#i couldn't recall the name for the life of me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halfmoonaria · 1 month ago

Text

what i can’t say

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara wants the only person she can’t have, but she’ll do whatever it takes to change that —even if it means risking everything.

word count: 10.7k

author’s note: yall don’t forget to wish me a happy birthday this friday on the 22nd!

Tara wasn't used to hearing the word "no."

Growing up, she'd mastered the art of getting exactly what she wanted, whether it was a toy, a treat, or just a little more attention.

All it took was a well-timed look, a hint of a pout, or a small scene in a public place—not that she ever felt bad about it. After all, it always worked, and it always felt worth it.

But more than any toy or treat, Tara always seemed to have what she wanted most: you.

Her best friend since... well, since you both were small enough to think scraped knees were the end of the world. You'd been there from the start, the friend who laughed with her, who stood by her through every phase and whim.

Tara didn't have to beg or throw a fit to keep you close. You just were. It was like you were woven into each other's lives, and if anyone asked, she'd say you'd always be there—like you were something she'd managed to keep just for herself.

If anyone asked, Tara couldn't quite recall a time before you.

You were there in every memory that mattered, the friend who understood her quirks, finished her sentences, and knew every dream she'd ever had.

You were inseparable, not just in the way kids cling to each other, but in the way people do when they know they'll never quite find someone who gets them like this again.

You shared everything with your clothes, midnight snacks, and every embarrassing crush you'd ever had.

You laughed together about the silly things you thought were love back then, sharing conversations about who you'd marry someday and who had the best smile.

Although. Tara was always a little quieter during these talks, listening more than sharing, and you never thought much of it. That was just Tara, after all, always keeping a bit of herself back, tucked away in her own mind.

But when it came to your middle school crush, she never missed a chance to tease you, brushing him off as if he wasn't as special as you seemed to think.

She'd laugh and tell you he wasn't as funny as you made him out to be, or that his smile really wasn't anything to write home about.

To you, it was just typical Tara, always finding a way to poke holes in the things you liked.

You didn't notice how her smile faltered when you gushed over him or how her gaze turned a little sharper, though even she didn't fully understand why.

It left her with an uneasy feeling, the kind she could never quite explain, that made her want to change the subject whenever she could.

And as time passed during this time, it seemed like your crush only grew, and so did the way you talked about him.

No matter how many times Tara brushed off your comments or tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, you still lit up whenever his name came up.

Brian.

Brian slipped into conversations almost daily, whether it was about the way he made everyone laugh in class or how he'd held the door for you that morning. And each time you brought him up, Tara felt a pang of irritation she couldn't quite explain.

She never told you how much she despised Brian, but the feeling ran deep. It gnawed at her whenever you mentioned him, and even though she tried to brush it off, she found herself disliking him more and more.

The worst part was, she couldn't understand why. It wasn't like you weren't allowed to like a boy—that was just part of life, after all.

Whenever she hinted at her frustration with her mom, she'd hear the same thing: it was normal, fun even, to have a crush, and Tara would experience it too someday.

But she hadn't. She'd never felt that way about any boy in your grade, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she should.

It confused her, and in a way, it confused you too. You'd always laughed off the fact that Tara never seemed to "crush" the way you did, teasing her about how she'd figure it out someday.

But whenever you'd gush over Brian, Tara would just sit quietly, trying to ignore the strange knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten with every word you said.

Time went on, and those middle school crushes never quite faded.

Brian only seemed to grow more attractive, transitioning from the shy boy you liked to someone who was effortlessly charming, with a confidence that made everyone notice him.

Back then, you'd have called him "cute," but now, there were new words—hot, gorgeous—terms that made Tara roll her eyes every time they left your mouth.

But you still felt that rush of excitement when he was around, that same giddiness you'd had since you were ten, only now it felt a little more real.

Tara, on the other hand, hadn't changed much when it came to relationships.

While others around you both dated, broke up, and fell in love, she stayed quietly distant, brushing off questions and teasing about why she never seemed interested in anyone.

The truth was, she didn't really know why herself. There was a part of her that felt left out when you gushed about Brian, when your other friends talked about crushes or brought dates to dances. She tried to tell herself that she just wasn't interested yet, that maybe someday she'd feel what everyone else seemed to.

But as the years went by, Tara started to realize that maybe she was different—and she couldn't shake the strange sense of frustration that came with that realization, especially whenever Brian was mentioned.

Somewhere along the way, as high school turned into something more serious, so did her thoughts about you.

Tara didn't want to admit it at first—not to herself, not to anyone. The idea crept up quietly, unexpected and unwanted, like some shadow she couldn't shake.

The way you'd laugh at something silly, the familiar warmth of your hand in hers, or the way her heart would skip when you'd throw an arm around her shoulders. It all made sense now, but it was a sense she desperately didn't want.

When the realization hit her, it was like she couldn't breathe.

There was this tiny voice in her mind that whispered, almost cruelly, You're in love with her. Tara's immediate reaction was to shut it down, to deny it with everything she had. This couldn't be right. She wasn't in love with you.

That wasn't what best friends did. She told herself she was just confused, that maybe it was normal to feel this strongly about someone you'd known your entire life.

But every time she saw you look at Brian—every time you said his name with that sparkle in your eyes—it felt like a punch to the gut, and there was no denying it anymore.

The more she tried to reason with herself, the clearer it became. And that terrified her.

She couldn't let herself feel this way about you. You were her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone else.

The idea of telling you—of you finding out and looking at her with pity, or worse, disgust—made her stomach twist. She could already imagine the awkward smile, the way you might back away, laugh it off, or even leave her behind. It would shatter her, and she knew that.

And so, she decided then and there that this secret would stay with her.

She'd lock it away, bury it so deep that even she could forget about it someday. Telling anyone—even her parents—wasn't an option.

Not only did she fear their reaction, but she knew they wouldn't understand. To them, you were her friend, nothing more, and the thought of losing you, or of anyone making her feel like her love was wrong, was enough to keep her quiet.

But keeping quiet wasn't easy. The secret felt like it was burning a hole through her, consuming her thoughts and leaving her frustrated in ways she couldn't explain.

She wanted to be around you, but every moment with you felt like a reminder of what she could never have, and it only made the ache grow stronger.

She was angry, scared, and hopelessly in love with the one person she could never tell.

So she became skilled at hiding the depth of her feelings, putting on a mask that had somehow become part of her daily life.

She played her role well, acting like nothing had changed between you both.

At school, she kept her gaze casual, listening to you talk as if she didn't want to lose herself in the way your lips moved.

During sleepovers, she'd lie next to you, forcing herself to focus on anything but the warmth of your arm just inches from hers.

And at parties, now that you were both old enough to go, she'd laugh and dance alongside you, all while pretending her stomach wasn't in knots from the way you looked at her under dim lights, a playful grin lighting up your face.

It was like living with a constant tug-of-war inside her, balancing between wanting to be near you and needing to keep her heart steady.

She'd perfected the art of nonchalance, even when you made it nearly impossible. When you got excited about something—eyes wide, laughing about some small victory—Tara would have to swallow down the urge to reach out, to brush a strand of hair from your face or lean in just a little closer.

The hardest moments were the little things, the 'normal' things, like when you'd give her an easy, carefree compliment, your eyes warm and sincere.

She'd feel the blush rise to her cheeks, and she'd quickly look away or laugh it off, hoping you didn't notice the way her voice wavered.

And when you held her hands, like you always did, squeezing them to give her a little boost of courage, she'd act as though it didn't send her heart racing, as though she wasn't fighting the impulse to hold on tighter.

Every smile you threw her way, every moment you lingered too close, she had to act like it didn't make her insides flip.

She trained herself to respond with that same easy smile, to pretend she didn't feel like the air had been knocked out of her whenever you looked at her like she was the only one in the room.

It was a constant game of pretending, a battle against herself that she had to win every single day.

And as much as she tried to hide it, each touch, each laugh, each simple, familiar look left her more tangled in her own emotions.

She tried to tell herself that these things were just... normal. Friends did these things all the time, she told herself, even if everything in her felt far from normal.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, her resolve was starting to crack. She couldn't help but notice her jealousy flare up when she saw you talking to other people, especially Brian.

Then, one Tuesday at lunch, you dropped a bombshell that flipped her world just a bit more.

She leaned back, half-focused on your conversation with the others at the table, when she saw you walking toward her with a grin so bright it felt like it could light up the whole room.

Tara felt her heart jump at the sight, her thoughts immediately swept into the excitement that was clearly radiating off of you.

You barely took your seat before bursting with excitement. "Tara!"

Tara's smile matched yours, though a part of her already felt a small pang of unease. But she pushed it aside and leaned in eagerly, mirroring your excitement. "What happened?"

You practically glowed as you told her, "He sat next to me in class today." Tara's chest tightened, but she held her expression steady, keeping that casual, easy smile.

She already knew who you meant—you didn't even have to say his name. It was in the way your voice softened, how your eyes sparkled with excitement she rarely saw except when you were really, really happy.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Seeing you so... in love, so giddy, felt like a punch she wasn't ready for.

You practically glowed, your whole personality seeming to shift as if you were that younger version of yourself again, like back in middle school when every new crush filled you with wide-eyed excitement.

Except now, it wasn't an innocent schoolgirl crush; it was real, and you were already slipping further from her reach with each passing second.

Tara kept smiling, but inside, every bit of her was tangled up in knots.

You'd never look at her like that. Never talk about her with that bubbly, uncontainable happiness. The thought clawed at her, a reminder she could never push away.

She was your best friend, sure, but she'd never be the person who made your cheeks flush or your heart race. And somehow, knowing that made it even harder to keep that same easy smile on her face.

"And?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her, even as she felt a knot forming. She listened as you recounted every word, every laugh you'd shared with him in that class.

Then you dropped the real news, your eyes sparkling. Your grin only widened. "And then, right before class ended, he asked me to go with him to that party next weekend."

Tara's heart sank, yet she barely let the smile slip. She forced herself to open her mouth in surprise, eyes wide, like she was just as thrilled as you were. "Really?" she said, trying to sound as shocked and happy as you seemed, her voice just a bit too bright. "Did you... did you say yes?"

Of course you did. Tara felt stupid for even considering asking you that question.

But you didn't seem to mind, you just nodded eagerly, your whole face lighting up. "Obviously!"

"Oh, wow. That's... that's great, actually," she said, her voice a little too steady, but it was the best she could manage.

Inside, though, she was unraveling. You were actually going with him. It shouldn't have been such a shock—after all, this was what you wanted, right?

But knowing that you'd be there, dressed up, all smiles and laughter... with him... felt like a lead weight sinking in her chest.

She could already picture it, the two of you in some dimly lit room with music thumping, Ethan leaning in close to say something to make you laugh, you smiling up at him like he was the only person in the world.

The thought of it made her throat tighten, her mind racing with feelings she didn't even want to name.

"Are you excited?" she asked, her voice coming out just barely above a whisper. She hoped you wouldn't notice how strained it sounded, how much effort it took just to ask.

You nodded, your smile impossibly bright. "Yeah, I mean... I didn't think he even noticed me like that, you know? But now... maybe he does."

The way you said it—hopeful, almost in disbelief—cut deeper than she wanted to admit. Maybe he does. Those three words stayed in her head, echoing louder with each second.

She was supposed to be happy for you, and maybe part of her was, but mostly, she just felt hollow.

Because even though you'd never know it, she'd been looking at you the way you were looking at him, longing for that same chance to mean something more to you. And now she was faced with the awful reality that she might never get that chance.

Swallowing down the bitterness, she forced a tight-lipped smile. "You'll have a great time, I'm sure."

But even as she said it, a part of her was already wondering if she'd do something she'd regret. The thought of watching you fall for someone else—someone who wasn't her—was more than she could stand.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew she'd do almost anything to keep you from slipping away.

Your eyes brightened again. "You should come with us!"

Tara's heart twisted at the invitation, feeling both flattered and devastated. Of course you'd want her there, being the good friend you were—unaware of what it did to her to see you light up over someone else.

Forcing herself to stay casual, she shrugged, managing a small playful smirk. "I'm not exactly great at third-wheeling."

Her voice sounded steady enough, but inside, it felt like she was clinging to the last threads of composure.

She couldn't stand the thought of watching you fall for him right in front of her, yet the idea of saying no, of letting you go without her... that hurt, too.

Maybe if she was there, she could stop whatever was beginning to grow between you and him. Just maybe, she thought, she'd find a way to keep you by her side, where you'd always belonged.

Her mind spun, the smile on her face frozen, all she could focus on was the sinking realization that she might actually lose you.

Until now, she'd convinced herself that her feelings for you were something she could handle, something she'd eventually learn to live with. But now, with Brian's name hanging between you, that quiet acceptance shattered.

She could see the way this might unfold, each painful step already clear in her mind.

She'd watched enough romance movies to know how these things went, and as much as she wanted to push the thoughts away, they crept in, vivid and unrelenting.

First, you'd go to the party together, and maybe he'd make you laugh so much that you'd find yourself leaning in, your hand brushing his.

She could already picture the two of you on future dates—sharing secrets over a quiet dinner or standing too close on some sidewalk, your face lit up in a way that made her stomach twist with envy.

And worse, she could imagine what might happen after those dates, how one day soon he'd reach for your hand, and you wouldn't hesitate to hold his back.

She didn't want to picture it, but the thought seeped into her mind anyway, filling her with a fierce, unfamiliar ache.

The image of you wrapped up in his arms, whispering into his ear, or—even worse—laughing with that same joy you always shared with her, but this time meant for him, made her chest feel hollow.

The thought kept spiraling, her mind betraying her with scenes she couldn't bear to picture.

You, with Brian, alone, closer than she'd ever be, maybe even leaning in for a kiss.

She imagined his hand brushing your cheek, the two of you getting so lost in each other that you forgot everyone else around you—including her.

The jealousy was sharp, hotter than anything she'd felt before.

She hated the way it took over, the way it made her feel small and powerless, like she was losing something that had never even been hers to begin with.

And then, a terrible, aching thought hit her: she might never get to be close to you in that way.

She might never get to be the person who held you, who kissed you, who made you laugh like that.

It wasn't just about watching you fall for someone else—it was the crushing realization that you might never look at her the way you looked at him.

Maybe it would be better if she came along?

The idea took a root in Tara's mind, an unexpected, half-formed plan that both excited and unsettled her.

If she went to the party with you and Brian, it might give her a chance to keep things from moving forward between you two.

She could play it off as tagging along to "keep an eye" on you, to make sure you had fun—and stay close enough to step in if Brian tried anything. It was risky, maybe even a little desperate, but what choice did she have?

At least if she was there, she'd know exactly what was happening. She wouldn't have to lie awake later, imagining him whispering things in your ear, pulling you close, stealing the attention she wanted only for herself.

She could keep you safe from all that, and maybe, if she was careful enough, find subtle ways to draw your attention back to her, where it belonged.

In her mind, it sounded almost justified. A "protective friend" sticking close to make sure you were all right. But the truth simmered beneath that excuse—she knew this was more than friendship, that she wanted to keep you to herself in ways you might never understand.

If Brian was going to try to win you over, he'd have to do it with her there, watching his every move, ready to swoop in the second things started looking too cozy.

And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to make sure that night ended with you still hers—still looking at her with that easy, trusting smile that had always been her anchor.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it, the chance to stay close to you a little longer, to stave off the reality she dreaded.

If you didn't have the chance to fall for him—if she could prevent that—maybe she'd finally have the time and courage to make you see her the way she saw you.

You nudged her lightly, snapping Tara out of her thoughts, leaning in with that familiar, hopeful smile that always made it so hard to say no to you. "Come on, Tara. It'll be fun—just this once. Please?"

Tara's chest tightened at the way you looked at her, like her answer actually mattered to you. It made something inside her ache, the way your face lit up with excitement, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in her mind.

She should've said no. She wanted to say no.

But the thought of watching you leave without her—without knowing what might happen between you and Brian—made her stomach twist painfully.

And now, thanks to the idea she'd let herself entertain earlier, the thought of staying home didn't feel like an option anymore.

That plan, desperate and reckless as it was, had already taken root, and no matter how much a small part of her whispered it wasn't right, she couldn't let it go.

What if she stayed behind and missed her chance to stop something from blossoming between the two of you? What if she sat in her room, alone, while you fell for him right in front of everyone? The mere idea made her skin crawl.

But going wasn't any better. If she went, she'd have to watch you fawn over him, maybe even see you with him. And that thought was enough to make her want to bolt from the room. Yet here you were, looking at her like her presence actually mattered.

But why? Did you think she needed convincing, or was there some part of you that truly wanted her by your side? Her stomach churned at the thought.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep her expression neutral. If she said no, you'd go without her, and that stung more than she wanted to admit. But if she said yes...

Her mind spun with the possibilities. She didn't even know what she'd do if she went—how far she was willing to take this twisted plan of hers. But what she did know, with a growing certainty, was that she couldn't stay behind. Not when the thought of Brian pulling you closer was enough to make her chest burn with jealousy.

Your face shifted slightly, your brows knitting together when she didn't answer right away.

"Tara," you pressed gently, your voice dipping into that teasing tone you always used when you were trying to coax her into something. "Come on," you pressed again, your grin widening when she hesitated. "You have to come. It won't be the same without you."

It won't be the same without you.

Those words sealed it, though not in the way you meant them to. Something twisted and desperate bloomed in her chest, making her pulse quicken.

You didn't even realize it, but you were giving her exactly what she wanted: a reason to stay close. A reason to be where she could see you—and control what happened between you and Brian.

"Fine," she said at last, forcing a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But don't complain when I tell you it sucks."

The way your entire face lit up at her answer sent an ache through her chest. Her stomach fluttered against her will, a mix of longing and guilt tangling together in a way that made it hard to breathe. She hated how much it affected her, how happy you seemed just because she'd agreed to go.

She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on something across the room, anything to avoid the way your joy sent another wave of guilt and longing through her.

She knew it wasn't right—none of this was. But she couldn't let it go. Not when her plan had already started to take shape. Not when the thought of Brian having you was enough to make her reckless.

Because no matter how hard she tried to tell herself this was just a party, just a stupid night out, deep down, she knew she wasn't going for the music or the fun.

She was going because if Brian thought he was going to win you over tonight, he was dead wrong.

___

"What about this one?"

Tara looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of your bed, her gaze drawn to the shimmering fabric you held up against yourself. It was a short, fitted dress, one you'd clearly been saving for a moment like this.

The way Tara sat there, watching you flit around the room, sifting through piles of clothes you'd pulled from your closet.

It reminded her of when you were younger, back when the two of you would raid your moms' closets, parading around in oversized heels and dresses that pooled around your feet. You'd giggle uncontrollably, striking exaggerated poses in front of the mirror.

But this wasn't dress-up anymore.

Now, the clothes were your own—real, grown-up outfits that fit you perfectly, accentuating curves and edges Tara wasn't sure she was supposed to notice. It wasn't just playtime; this was your life now. And tonight, you weren't dressing up for laughs or pretend tea parties.

You were dressing up for him.

Her eyes flickered briefly over the dress before settling on your face. You were beaming, the excitement practically radiating off you as you turned to the mirror, holding the dress against your body.

She should've said something. A simple "looks great" or even a teasing "a bit much, don't you think?" would've worked, but the words caught in her throat.

It wasn't the dress—it was the way your whole body hummed with energy, the way your smile was just a little too wide, your movements a little too quick. Tara saw it all, and it was like watching you wear your feelings on your sleeve.

The way you twirled the dress in front of the mirror, the way your hands moved restlessly as you smoothed down imaginary creases—it was all too familiar. She knew exactly what you were feeling, even if you didn't say it out loud.

Did Brian? She doubted it.

He didn't know the little things, like how your voice got higher when you were nervous or how you couldn't stand still when you were excited. He didn't know the way your lips pressed together when you were thinking too hard about something or the way your shoulders tensed when you wanted something to go perfectly.

He didn't know you, not like she did.

"What do you think?" you asked again, snapping her out of her thoughts. You turned, holding the dress out at arm's length, giving her a better look. "Too much? Not enough?"

Tara forced a smile, her heart twisting as she watched you. "I think it's... nice," she said carefully, her voice steady even as her stomach churned.

Nice. The word felt like a betrayal. It didn't come close to how she really felt—how beautiful you looked, how much she wished those bright eyes were sparkling for her instead of someone else.

"You think Brian'll like it?" you asked, your tone innocent, but the question struck Tara like a punch.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter. She wanted to tell you Brian didn't deserve you, that he wouldn't know how to appreciate all the little things that made you you. But instead, she kept her tone casual, masking the storm inside her.

"I mean... yeah," she said after a pause. "It's hard not to like you in anything."

Your grin widened, lighting up the room in a way that made her stomach flutter. You didn't notice the tightness in her smile, the way her eyes lingered on you for just a second too long.

"You're the best." you said, turning back to the mirror.

Tara's chest tightened, a quiet ache settling beneath her ribs. She glanced away, forcing a small smile as she leaned back on her hands.

She let her fingers dug slightly into the comforter as she watched you move across the room again, this time heading toward your closet. You sifted through the hangers with an almost frantic energy, pulling out one piece of clothing after another until something caught your eye.

"This," you announced, holding up a sleek black skirt and a tiny top with delicate lace accents.

Tara blinked, her focus shifting from the faint hum of her own thoughts to the outfit in your hands. The skirt was just short enough to grab attention, and the top would clung to the curves in all the right places—your curves, she couldn't help but think.

Her stomach twisted again, but not with the same bitterness from earlier. No, this was something else entirely. She couldn't stop herself from picturing you in it, couldn't stop the way her mind immediately conjured the image of you standing there, all done up, looking effortlessly hot and completely out of her reach.

She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away. "You're not wearing the dress?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Oh, I am," you replied with a grin, holding the outfit closer to her. "This is for you!"

Tara froze. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, her chest tightening as your words sank in.

She had been so caught up in watching you, so wrapped up in her own spiral of emotions, that she had momentarily forgotten she was actually going to this party.

"Me?" she echoed, her brows furrowing slightly as she tried to act like the idea of dressing up didn't make her stomach drop.

You laughed softly, stepping closer to hold the outfit up against her frame. "Yeah, you! Come on, Tara, you can't just wear that." You half-pointed to her attire.

Tara's eyes darted to the mirror, catching a glimpse of herself in her usual hoodie and jeans.

She had planned on blending into the background tonight, just another shadow in the corner, but now you were holding out a version of herself she wasn't sure she wanted to confront.

"It's... a little much, don't you think?" she murmured, her fingers brushing over the fabric.

"Not at all," you said, undeterred. "Trust me, you'll look amazing.

The way you looked at her, so excited, so hopeful, made it impossible for her to argue. The truth was, she didn't want to blend into the background—not really. Not if it meant letting Brian win.

"Alright," she said finally, forcing a small smirk as she reached for the outfit.

You grinned, clearly thrilled, and the sight sent her heart fluttering all over again.

As she stood up to take the clothes in you, the weight of the night ahead settled on her shoulders again. She knew this wasn't about the clothes or the party. It was about you—about keeping you close, about holding onto the part of you that still felt like hers, even if it wasn't.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Tara pulled the clothes from your hands, her fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary before she turned away.

She hesitated only briefly, her eyes darting to the bathroom door, but then she decided against it. It wasn't like this was anything new. You'd seen her change plenty of times before.

Slipping off her hoodie, she pulled the top over her head, the soft lace brushing against her skin in a way that felt oddly delicate, almost foreign.

The skirt followed, the fabric snug around her waist and flaring slightly at her hips. When she finally turned back toward you, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It was strange. She didn't recognize the girl staring back at her right away—not entirely. The clothes fit her so well, so effortlessly, that she felt a flicker of something unexpected: pride.

She looked... pretty. Not in the same way you did, with your radiant energy that drew everyone in, but still. Pretty enough.

Her heart jumped a little at the thought of you seeing her like this, of you noticing her in the way she always noticed you. She didn't know why she wanted that so badly, but the hope curled tightly in her chest, warm and persistent.

You looked up from where you'd been smoothing out your own dress, and your reaction was immediate. Your eyes widened slightly, and then your face lit up in that effortless way that always made her stomach flutter.

"Tara, oh my god, you look so good," you said, your voice soft but genuine, carrying none of the over-the-top excitement you sometimes used when joking around. This was real.

Tara felt her cheeks warm under your gaze, her fingers automatically reaching to adjust the hem of the skirt, as if she could somehow shield herself from the weight of your words. She tried to play it off, shrugging casually. "It's just a skirt," she mumbled, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

"It's not just a skirt," you countered, stepping closer. "You look amazing. Seriously, this is perfect for you."

Your words were kind, almost too kind, and Tara wasn't sure how to process them. There was no teasing, no playful edge, just an earnestness that made her chest feel tight and achy.

She glanced away, pretending to focus on her reflection again, but the warmth of your approval lingered, sinking into her skin like the lace of the top.

She wanted to feel good about it, to let herself bask in the way you saw her, but the nagging thought that this wasn't for her—that it was all part of your excitement for Brian—kept her grounded.

Still, the way you smiled at her, so unreserved and so entirely you, made her feel something she hadn't in a long time: seen. She wished, just for a second, that you were saying all of this for the same reason she wished you would.

You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over the pile of discarded clothes strewn across the floor in your excitement. Tara's breath caught for a second, her hand twitching instinctively like she was about to reach for you, but you caught yourself, laughing it off as if nothing had happened.

"You need to clean your room before someone gets hurt," Tara muttered, though her tone held more amusement than annoyance.

You ignored her, too caught up in the moment as you reached your makeup table, rifling through your collection with a kind of chaotic precision.

Pulling out a palette, you held it up, the colors catching the light as you grinned at her. "What do you think? Want me to do your makeup?"

Your voice was so full of unfiltered excitement, your smile so wide it made her stomach flip. Tara hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt as she glanced at the palette in your hands. She wasn't really the makeup type—not like you were—but the way you looked at her, like you were just waiting to make her feel special, made it impossible to say no.

"You don't have to," Tara said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I want to!" you insisted, stepping closer, the palette still in hand. "Please, Tara? I promise I'll keep it simple. Just a little something to go with the outfit."

She sighed, feigning reluctance as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Fine."

You grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her, gesturing for her to sit. "Alright, let's make you even more stunning."

Tara rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she leaned forward.

___

The buzz of the party hit you as soon as you stepped through the door.

Music pulsed through the house, the bass vibrating in your chest as voices overlapped in a cacophony of laughter and shouted greetings.

People crowded the space—groups gathered near the kitchen, couples pressed close against walls, and a few brave souls danced in the living room, already letting loose despite how early it was in the night.

You glanced over at Tara, catching the way her shoulders stiffened slightly as the noise and energy enveloped her. She'd been quiet on the drive over, her fingers drumming against her thigh in a way that let you know her nerves were kicking in. But she'd never admit that, not to you.

"See?" you said brightly, bumping her shoulder with yours as you stepped further into the house. "I told you this would be fun."

Tara gave you a look, one that was half-skepticism and half-amusement, as she tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

Your laugh was warm and easy, a sound that somehow made the chaos of the party seem less overwhelming. You reached back to grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd as you made your way toward the kitchen. The feel of your fingers around hers made something in Tara's chest twist uncomfortably, though she forced herself to ignore it.

The kitchen was just as packed as the rest of the house, but you managed to snag two drinks from the counter, handing one to her with a grin. "Alright, party rule number one: stay hydrated."

Tara raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cup in her hand. "This is definitely not water."

"Details." You waved her off, your playful smirk making her stomach flutter in that maddeningly familiar way.

Before she could respond, a voice called out from across the room. "Y/N! There you are!"

Tara's grip on her cup tightened as she followed your gaze, her stomach sinking when she saw him—Brian—making his way toward you. His smile was wide and easy, the kind of grin that would make anyone else swoon.

But Tara wasn't anyone else.

"Brian!" you said, your face lighting up in a way that made Tara's chest ache. She stepped back slightly, letting go of your hand as he drew closer, though her eyes never left you.

He didn't deserve that smile.

Brian's gaze flickered to her briefly, his smile faltering just a bit. "Tara, right?"

She nodded, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her drink. "That's me."

If he noticed the edge in her tone, he didn't comment on it, turning his attention back to you instead. "You look amazing," he said, his eyes raking over your dress in a way that made Tara's jaw tighten.

You beamed at him, clearly pleased by the compliment, and Tara had to look away, her hand gripping her cup so tightly she was surprised it didn't crack.

This was going to be a long night.

And it most definitely was.

As the night went on, the party only grew louder and more chaotic. People drifted in and out of the circle you, Tara, and Brian had settled into, friends of his joining the conversation with easy smiles and casual jokes.

You made a genuine effort to include Tara, always pulling her back in when she started to fade into the background, but it was clear who held your focus.

Brian.

He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours as he leaned in to talk over the music.

You didn't seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you didn't mind. Either way, the proximity between you two only seemed to grow as the minutes ticked by, and Tara couldn't stop watching.

Every time you laughed at something he said, her chest tightened just a little more.

You weren't doing it on purpose. Tara knew that. She knew you didn't notice the way her jaw clenched or how her fingers drummed against her cup.

You were just being you—kind, bubbly, and effortlessly charming. But watching you with Brian, seeing how much of your attention he was soaking up, felt like a slow, relentless sting.

She hadn't expected it to bother her this much.

At first, Tara tried to play along, chiming in when she could and taking small sips of her drink to distract herself.

But then Brian's friends started joining the conversation, their loud energy making it harder for her to keep up. You were still trying to include her, turning to her every so often to ask her opinion or flash her one of your brilliant smiles, but it wasn't enough.

Not when you lit up like a damn firework every time Brian said something that made you laugh.

Tara tipped back her cup, finishing it quicker than she probably should have. She wasn't much of a drinker to begin with—she never really liked how it made her feel—but tonight was different. Tonight, she needed the edge taken off.

"Want another?" you asked, noticing her empty cup.

She hesitated, but before she could respond, Brian offered. "I'll grab her one. Be right back."

She opened her mouth to say she didn't need another, but he was already walking away.

You smiled after him before turning back to Tara, your expression so full of effortless warmth it made her stomach churn. "You having fun?"

She forced a small nod, her grip tightening on the plastic cup. "Yeah. It's... fine."

You didn't notice the strain in her voice, too caught up in the energy of the party to catch on.

By the time Brian returned with her drink, she'd already decided she wasn't going to overthink it. She took it with a quiet "thanks" and drank just enough to feel the buzz set in. It wasn't much—maybe two drinks total—but Tara was short, and she always felt the effects quicker than most.

The alcohol didn't drown out her frustration, though.

Every laugh you gave Brian, every time you leaned in to whisper something to him, only seemed to magnify it.

And you? You were oblivious. Still trying to keep her in the conversation, pulling her in with the same ease you always had. But she could feel the gap widening.

Tara's foot tapped against the floor as she shifted her weight, her eyes flickering between you and Brian. She should've left, should've wandered off to another part of the house to escape this torturous little triangle, but she stayed.

Because if she left, she'd have to admit to herself why she couldn't handle this.

So instead, she took another sip of her drink and plastered on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she said quickly, her words sharper than she intended. "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. And as the night wore on, that became harder and harder to hide.

And after an hour, or maybe even more.

The alcohol was definitely working its way through Tara's veins. She could feel it, the familiar warmth spreading through her chest, making her limbs feel looser but her thoughts louder.

The edges of the room blurred ever so slightly, but her focus on you was sharp as ever, almost painfully so.

You were giggling at something Brian said again, your hand brushing his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tara had been watching you both like a hawk all night, trying to play it cool, but the subtle touches, the shared smiles, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him—it was getting under her skin.

She clenched her jaw, tipping back the rest of her drink as if it might drown out the frustration bubbling inside her. But it didn't.

It wasn't just the alcohol making her feel reckless, though it didn't help. Tara was desperate.

Desperate to do something—anything—that might shift the balance back in her favor. But how? She wasn't like Brian. She didn't have easy jokes or effortless charm. And she wasn't like you, all soft laughter and open smiles.

So she sat there, stewing in her own silence, searching for an opening she couldn't find.

Then she turned her head for just a moment.

A distraction—a loud burst of laughter from somewhere across the room. She glanced over, barely processing the source, and when she looked back...

Her heart stopped.

You and Brian were kissing.

It wasn't shy or hesitant. It was full and unguarded, like something out of the movies. His hands rested lightly on your waist, your fingers clutching the front of his shirt as though you were afraid to let go.

Tara's first thought wasn't sadness. It wasn't heartbreak or even surprise.

It was rage.

Her body went rigid, the plastic cup in her hand creaking under the force of her grip.

Because of course this wasn't a problem.

Why would it be?

You weren't hers. You'd never been hers. You were allowed to kiss boys, especially the boy you'd been crushing on for as long as she could remember. It wasn't like you were breaking some unspoken rule. She had no claim to you, no right to feel betrayed or blindsided.

But God, it felt like a betrayal.

Her rational mind tried to reason with her, repeating the same useless mantra: This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem. This isn't a problem.

But the other side of her mind—the side that had been clawing its way to the surface all night—was screaming the opposite.

It was a problem. A huge one.

The anger burned through her like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought as it spread. It started in her chest, hot and heavy, before curling into her throat and setting her teeth on edge. Her nails dug into the soft plastic of her cup until it crumpled under her grip, a sharp crack breaking through the buzz of the party.

And still, she couldn't look away.

She hated it. Hated the way his hands touched you so easily, like he'd earned that right. Hated the way you kissed him back like you'd been waiting for this your whole life. Hated how he got to have what she wanted so desperately without even knowing how much it mattered.

Her breaths came quicker, each one catching in her chest as if she couldn't quite fill her lungs. The alcohol amplified everything, stripping her bare of the filters she usually relied on. Every raw, unspoken feeling she'd buried for years was rising to the surface now, and there was no stopping it.

She wanted to scream.

To grab you and pull you away, to tell Brian to get his hands off you, to do something.

But she didn't.

Because no matter how angry she was, no matter how much she hated what she was seeing, there was a part of her—a small, quiet, agonizing part—that whispered:

You're not supposed to feel like this.

So instead, Tara sat there, her body tense and trembling, her nails biting into the palms of her hands. She didn't even realize she'd crumpled her cup until the sticky remnants of her drink dripped onto her lap.

And still, she couldn't look away.

Eventually you pulled back from Brian, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy from the alcohol coursing through your system.

A small, almost dazed laugh escaped your lips as you glanced at him, then turned to find Tara in the crowd. She hadn't moved from where she'd been watching, her posture stiff and her eyes fixed on some indistinct point on the wall—anywhere but you.

When your gaze landed on her, your smile widened, bright and unrestrained, like you hadn't just set her entire world on fire.

Tara's chest tightened, the molten frustration inside her bubbling hotter with every passing second. She couldn't stop her thoughts, couldn't silence the storm brewing in her mind.

You stumbled a little as you reached her, still grinning like a fool, your energy infectious to everyone but Tara. You leaned close, tipping forward on your toes, your voice loud but slurred enough to betray your tipsy state.

"I think he kissed me," you said, as if it hadn't been entirely mutual.

Tara felt something snap.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms so hard she half-expected to draw blood.

She couldn't speak, couldn't trust herself to even try. If she opened her mouth, she was sure she'd yell or say something she couldn't take back. Worse, she might cry—and that wasn't an option.

Her silence stretched on, but you didn't seem to notice. You were too lost in your own world, your thoughts spinning with the buzz of the alcohol and the remnants of Brian's touch. Tara's silence didn't matter, because you filled the space with another easy laugh, leaning closer so she could hear you over the pounding music.

"I need to use the bathroom," you said, your lips brushing near her ear. The warmth of your breath made her stomach twist. "Wanna come?"

Tara's mind scrambled for an excuse, her mouth dry as she fought the urge to say something reckless.

"No," she said finally, forcing her voice to sound casual, detached. "I think I'm good down here."

It wasn't true. She wasn't good down here, or anywhere else in the universe at that moment.

You gave her a light shrug, your expression still full of that easy joy that made her want to scream. "Okay! Be right back!"

You disappeared into the crowd, weaving your way toward the bathroom, leaving Tara standing there alone.

The second you were out of sight, she exhaled sharply, her hands shaking as she reached for another drink she didn't need.

She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the anger, or the ache of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. Maybe it was all three, swirling into something she couldn't control.

But one thing was clear—she couldn't keep this up. Not tonight. Not with you and Brian. Not with her chest full of feelings she couldn't name and didn't want to face.

Tara's eyes burned as they landed on Brian, standing not far from where you'd left him. His posture was easy, relaxed—too relaxed.

He stood there like nothing had happened, chatting casually with a couple of his friends, his hand lifting a red cup to his lips like this was just another night. Like he hadn't just kissed you.

The most beautiful girl on the planet.

Tara felt her stomach twist painfully, her grip tightening around the drink in her hand. How could he be so unbothered? So unaffected? He wasn't grinning ear to ear, wasn't puffing out his chest or gushing about how lucky he was.

He wasn't laughing with joy or smirking proudly like any sane person would if they'd just kissed you.

How was he not telling everyone in earshot about what had happened? How was he not reeling from the fact that you—you, with your blinding smile and endless energy—had given him even a second of your time, let alone your lips?

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she stared at him, her anger bubbling hotter with every second he stayed calm. Her hands itched to grab him by the collar, to shake him and demand he act like he understood the weight of what had just happened.

Did he even realize how lucky he was?

Did he know how many people in that room—how many people in general—would kill to be in his place? To have even the tiniest fraction of your attention, let alone that?

Her vision blurred, and it wasn't from the alcohol. Her chest felt like it was about to implode, like something inside her was trying desperately to escape, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it together.

Brian's laughter snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. He was laughing at something one of his friends said, his expression light, carefree—unbothered.

Tara nearly saw red.

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, the sharp burn doing nothing to dull the fury roaring in her chest. How could he be like this? How could he act so normal, so indifferent, after kissing you?

How could he not be overwhelmed by the fact that you'd chosen him, even for a fleeting moment?

It was insulting. Infuriating.

She wanted to march over there, to grab him and make him feel the way she was feeling. She wanted him to hurt, to ache, to boil with jealousy the way she was.

But she couldn't.

Because none of this was his fault.

The real issue—the one she didn't want to admit—wasn't Brian. It was the simple, heartbreaking truth that he could kiss you without consequence.

He could have you.

Tara wasn't sure what happened next.

What she was thinking when it happened, or if she was even thinking at all. Maybe it was the anger—burning hot and uncontrollable—making her body move before her brain could catch up. Or maybe it was the alcohol, buzzing in her veins and drowning out every voice in her head that might've told her to stop.

All she knew was that one second she was standing there, glaring at Brian like he'd committed some unforgivable sin, and the next, she was storming toward him.

His friends noticed her first, their chatter faltering as they shifted awkwardly under her sharp glare. But Brian, oblivious as ever, didn't see her coming. He was mid-sentence, that stupidly calm look still plastered on his face, when Tara grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

The movement was forceful enough to knock the air out of both of them, and before he could even process what was happening—before she could process what was happening—she pressed her lips against his.

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't sweet.

It was messy, rough, and fueled by a cocktail of rage and desperation. Her hands fisted his shirt tightly, holding him in place, her nails biting into the fabric. Brian stiffened for a second, shocked, but then his hands hovered awkwardly near her waist, unsure of what to do.

Tara didn't care. She didn't care about his reaction, about his hesitation.

Because this wasn't about him.

It wasn't about his stupid, clueless face or the fact that he'd kissed you without giving it a second thought. It wasn't about him being unbothered or unaffected.

This was about her.

Her anger, her frustration, her absolute inability to sit there for another second and watch him act like kissing you was nothing.

The kiss deepened as her grip on his shirt tightened, pulling him even closer. She wanted to erase the memory of you from his lips, to replace it with her own. To make him feel something, anything, the way she was feeling.

But it wasn't working.

If anything, the kiss only made it worse.

Because no matter how hard she pressed, no matter how desperate her movements were, it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel like you.

And that thought was like a punch to the gut.

Brian made a soft, surprised noise against her lips, his hands finally settling on her hips, but it only made her angrier. How dare he hesitate now? How dare he act so unsure, like he didn't know exactly what he wanted when he'd so easily taken you from her just minutes ago?

Her chest heaved as she pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against his, her heart pounding in her ears.

His wide eyes stared at her, confused and more than a little alarmed. "Tara—" his voice laced with bewilderment, but she silenced him with another kiss, pressing harder, needing to cut him off.

She didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want to hear him try to make sense of this, because she didn't have an explanation. This wasn't about him.

It wasn't about you either—not entirely, at least.

It was about her. About the way she felt like she was unraveling, about how every smile you gave Brian felt like another thread being yanked loose, every laugh you shared with him felt like a blow to the chest.

She didn't know how to make it stop, and the only thing her mind could come up with was this. She didn't have to think when she was kissing Brian. Didn't have to feel the jagged ache of watching you be so happy with someone else.

This wasn't about him.

But it was all she could do to stop herself from falling apart completely.

And Tara wasn't sure what was happening anymore.

Brian hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't stopped her, hadn't hesitated for even a moment after that first surprised noise.

No, he'd leaned into it. He'd kissed her back with the kind of intent that only made her angrier, made the fire in her chest blaze so hot she thought she might combust right there.

Because it wasn't supposed to go like this.

His hands slid from her hips, pulling her closer, pressing her tighter against him, and she hated it. Hated the way he responded like this was exactly what he wanted, hated the way he kissed her back like she wasn't just a replacement for you.

And worse than anything, she hated herself for not stopping it.

His hands moved lower, gripping her ass, pulling her even closer, and she felt herself clench her fists tighter into the fabric of his shirt.

She didn't know if it was the alcohol buzzing in her veins, numbing her better judgment, or if it was the anger still consuming her every thought, but she didn't do anything to stop him.

She should've.

But she didn't.

Because in this moment, it wasn't about him. It wasn't even about you. It was about the chaos she felt boiling in her chest, about the way she felt like she was spiraling further and further out of control.

Brian murmured something against her lips—she didn't catch it, didn't even try to—but his hands stayed firm on her, guiding her, pulling her toward the stairs.

And she let him.

Every step felt like she was wading through quicksand, her mind shouting at her to stop, to push him away, to pull herself together. But her body wasn't listening. She didn't know if it was the heat of his hands on her or the fog of alcohol clouding her better judgment, but she let him lead her.

Because stopping meant facing the truth. And Tara wasn't ready to do that.

Not yet.

She'd barely registered how they ended up in the room. One second, she was being pulled up the stairs, Brian's hand gripping hers tightly, and the next, they were in a dimly lit bedroom, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her heart was racing, but not from excitement. There was no thrill, no anticipation, just a gnawing sense of wrongness she couldn't shake. Yet she didn't stop it. She didn't stop him as his hands found her waist, as his lips trailed down her neck. She didn't stop herself from responding, from letting this spiral further than it ever should have.

It was mechanical, empty, and every moment felt like it was happening to someone else. Brian's touch wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't what she wanted. His lips weren't the ones she craved, his hands didn't spark anything but an aching hollowness inside her.

And yet, she let it happen.

Because, for a fleeting second, it felt like power. Like control. Like maybe, just maybe, if she could take this from him—take you from him in some twisted, nonsensical way—it would hurt less.

But it didn't.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word she barely heard, only drove the knife deeper into her chest.

When it was over, the silence was deafening. Tara lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body still and her mind racing. Brian shifted beside her, saying something she didn't hear, and the sound of his voice made her stomach twist. She felt nauseous, disgusted—not with him, but with herself.

What had she done?

Her chest tightened as she fought to keep her breathing steady, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill over. It hadn't helped. It hadn't made anything better. If anything, it had only made everything worse.

Because no matter what she did, no matter how far she went, it would never be enough to make her stop wanting you.

Afterwards Tara laid still, the dim light of the room casting shadows that felt too heavy, too oppressive.

Brian was beside her, breathing evening out as if nothing monumental had just happened. As if this was just another casual moment in his life.

Her mind, however, wouldn't stop.

It wasn't Brian she was thinking about—not the way he'd touched her, not the way he'd looked at her. No, every thought clawed its way back to you.

She pictured you in the bathroom, probably still staring at yourself in the mirror, giddy and flushed. She could almost see your smile, so wide it was infectious, and the way you'd probably tilt your head, trying to relive every second of that kiss.

You'd been dreaming of that moment since second grade, scribbling his name in the margins of your notebooks and lighting up every time he was near. Tara could already imagine how you'd be practically glowing, heart racing with excitement as you ran your fingers over your lips, trying to make the feeling last.

She wanted to hate you for it. But she couldn't. She never could.

You'd come out of that bathroom with a smile so bright it could light up the whole house, your hopeful eyes scanning the crowd as you made your way back to the spot you'd all been standing. And what would you find?

Nothing.

Tara wasn't there. Brian wasn't there.

She could imagine how your smile would falter, confusion settling in as you looked around, searching for the two people who were supposed to be waiting for you. How long would it take for the excitement to drain from your face? How quickly would hope turn to disappointment?

The thought was like a knife twisting in her gut.

And yet, she still couldn't make sense of why she'd done this. Why she'd let it happen. Because it didn't feel like she'd won anything. She hadn't taken Brian away from you. If anything, she'd stolen something from herself—something she could never get back.

Her chest tightened as the realization hit her like a freight train. She hadn't wanted him. She hadn't wanted this.

She'd wanted you.

And now she'd ruined everything.

#jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #ask #sam carpenter x reader

553 notes · View notes

notsoverymerry · 3 months ago

Text

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were.

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable.

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly.

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules.

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone.

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games.

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse.

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out.

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one.

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention.

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter.

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen.

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side.

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you.

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions.

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug.

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths.

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face.

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were.

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became.

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew.

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there.

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck.

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts?

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face.

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same.

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise.

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste.

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off.

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin.

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim.

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine.

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders.

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids.

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.''

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically.

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right.

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to.

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out.

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.''

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up.

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little.

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.''

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!''

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.''

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too.

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #fanfic #smut #x reader #fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

bugboi01 · 20 days ago

Text

I'll be gentle my love

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader

(A/n another addition to this wonderful genre. Let me know if you'd like to see this as a series or not)

You were ten years old when the accident happened. Your mother was on her way back from a business trip when she got into a car crash that took her life. That's what you had been told, anyway. Your memories of that time were hazy. By the time you processed what it meant for your mother to be dead, you were shipped off to Wayne Manor to be with your biological father.

Life in the manor was... cold. Bruce had his hands full already with five other children, children that shared a loot more in common with him than you. As the only non vigilante, you were viewed as the "easy child." The one Bruce and Alfred didn't have to worry over. Birthdays and holidays went by without a thought. Dinner was a lonely affair with most of the family out patrolling.

Today was the first time you had managed to have a meal with everyone in over a year. The chatter at the table was lively, but you were silent. These people were basically strangers to you even after seven years. You jumped when your name was called in a warm tone, looking up to see Alfred looking down worriedly at you. You couldn't recall the last time someone seemed so worried about you. The rest of the family quieted down

"Oh, um, sorry," you murmured quietly, setting down your fork. "Did you say something?"

"I was just wondering if you were well, young master. You aren't eating as much as you normally do," Alfred replied, causing Bruce to perk up and stare at you. Bruce's eyes scanned you over, taking in every inch to see what could be wrong. He knew he should have paid more attention, but he still cared about you. Especially if you were sick.

"I'm fine, Alfred. Just not all that hungry," you muturted with a not at all convincing smile. Bruce frowned, but his attention was drawn away before he could confront you. Throughout the dinner Bruce kept glancing at you as if expecting you to drop dead at any second. There's a strange sense of worry in his eyes, but you brush it off. Why would Bruce start worrying over you now?

Oh, how wrong you were.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc #my writing #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne

631 notes · View notes

gotta-winwin · 28 days ago

Note

Can I request a full oneshot on that dino when accepting an award like shouting out his wife and watching the internet explode and the members reaction to him I NEED THIS it got me kicking my feet and giggling just by thinking this 🛐🛐🛐 HAHHAHAHA

btw I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!! 😘

hehehe omg ofc! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing this dino has no business looking THAT fine and bias wreaking me( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) thank you so much for both requesting and enjoying my work!

where's the trophy... he just comes running over to me <3

masterlist fic that prompted this oneshot

word count: 1.4k tw/cw: idol!dino x wife!reader, childhood friends to lovers, public shoutout, a whole lot of sap, seungkwan clowning dino a/n: writing this just makes me want to see svt with their s/o in real life (we know these boys aint single bro)

It's a quiet and unassuming day until you're reminded that today is the MAMA awards. It didn't help that the award show wasn't hosted in Korea this year, leading to you being stuck on your couch, hands quivering as the show began.

It had been a tough yet rewarding year for Chan and his group mates, and you had been lucky enough to see it all. You felt proud that even with the distance, you had always been the first person Chan would call for anything.

Headlining Glastonbury? He had shined brightly onstage and even brighter during your video call, where he took you through his day, making it feel like you had been with him every step of the way.

Tour? He was texting you in between songs, updating you on the tiniest things despite you scolding him that he needed to concentrate on the show. He just couldn't help it, his mind immediately drifting to you whenever something remotely interesting took place. Baby, DK's pants ripped onstage just now. He'd text you, shoulders still shaking from laughter. Coups hyung got barked at again. Whatever tidbit it was, Chan's name lighting up on your screen was a warm embrace compared to the lonely nights without him.

It'd all be worth it now, you thought, as you let out a gasp of joy when Seventeen's name was announced as Artist of the Year. Your hands were still shaking as you picked up your phone to record the moment.

Chan's face glowed on your tv screen as he walked up with his members to accept the award. You couldn't help but remember how he used to look - kidish, tiny, cute and juvenile. You recalled how drastic the change had been, as you both matured and grew together, leading you to realize how hot he looked - so built and handsome. Yet it was the bubbly glow that stayed with him despite aging that you loved the most.

"Thank you Carats!" Your husband raised the trophy proudly into the air. "You know...I was the only one who didn't get to speak when we won a daesang last year..."

You couldn't help but scoff endearingly at how sassy he could be while receiving an award you knew would make him sob to you later.

"Ever since our debut," He continued, staring at you through the tv screen. "My dream was to be an artist that would remain in history."

You could remember that, even now, years later.

"I'm going to make you a promise." 15 year old Chan had told you, on the rare chance he had gotten a break from training. He had taken the two of you to the park in between Pledis and your house.

"Promise me what?" You had replied, lips feinting a small smile as you watched his eager expression.

"That one day, I'm going to be an artist that will stay throughout history." His face was full of raw determination. "And that you'll be right there with me. On top of the world. One day, I'll be an artist you can be proud of."

Seems like he kept that promise.

"And those feelings..." He continued speaking into the mic. "Those feelings will continue as we go into the future with Carats." The crowed cheered at his words.

You could tell from his face that something was up. He had that mischievous look that would only come out whenever he was about to do something to tease you.

"And..." He took a pause, smiling at the dramatic effect it had caused. "Well..."

You half wanted to reach through the tv and smack him, as your heart raced in anticipation. You had ran through his speech with him on video call days ago. This wasn't part of it.

"I once made a promise to someone," He finally said aloud, and you knew immediately what he was doing, mouth dropping in both surprise and realization. "A long time ago, when we were both very young, I made a promise that I would become an artist she could be proud of." He smiled bashfully at the memory of both the moment and the person. "I also promised her that she would be there with me, on top of the world."

You had to sit down, your legs failing you.

"I kept my promise, didn't I?" He said into the mic, and you could tell he was speaking just to you. "I hope you're proud of everything I've done, my lovely, patient wife. Only you could've stuck by me for fourteen years." He added the last part teasingly. "I love you." He raised the trophy in his hands. "This- this is for you." Pausing, he corrected himself. "Well- for you and the members." He smiled sheepishly at the boys behind him. "It is our award."

Dino had gotten Seungcheol's approval minutes before the award show began, begging the leader to let him shout out his wife. "Please, please, please, hyung." He had pleaded, trying to convey that this was literally his lifelong dream. "I've always wanted to do that. Just drop a bomb into the world and walk off." Seungcheol could only sigh, staring at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. He nodded, although he knew it would inevitably create a media frenzy for the company to clean up. "Go for it." He patted their maknae on the back. "Not my problem, not my mess."

Jeonghan had been kept blissfully in the dark until he was watching their acceptance speech live. The further Dino's speech went, the further his jaw dropped. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Dino was shouting out his wife on the stage at MAMA awards, accepting an AOTY award. Immediately after, he calls Dino up, scolding him for not telling him sooner and admitting it was a baller move.

Joshua had been busy trying to comfort a near-tears Seungcheol, Dino's speech barely registering in his ears. He's blissfully confused when the crowd goes bonkers, yelling into DK's ear to tell him what on earth happened. He's proud of Dino, acknowledging that their maknae has grown up to the point that the world now knows he has a whole wife.

All the way in China, Jun's watching the show live on his phone from his trailer on set. The connection is spotty, leaving his members in pixels and full of lag. Thankfully, the only clear part is Dino's speech, leaving Jun in deep shock and a little wounded. He wished he had been there for that.

Hoshi's loud ass gasp is the only thing fans can hear from the crowd other than their own screaming. It's clear on his face that he's flabbergasted - leading fans to speculate if he even knew Dino had a wife.

Wonwoo can't help but let out a hearty laugh once the weight of Dino's speech sinks into his bones. He knows the media and fans are going to have sooo much fun with this. He feels bad that you're now in the spotlight and hopes Dino got your permission beforehand...did he?

Very busy trying to will his tears away, Woozi's shocked out of his feels, tears evaporating at the sound of Dino's voice and the word wife. He's shocked, but happiness takes over when he realizes this will overshadow the fact that he's about to ball on global tv.

Minghao's just got that goofy shocked expression on his face as he registers the moment. He's smiling from ear to ear, basking in the joy that's radiating off of Dino. Who is he to stand in the way of Dino finally showing off his love?

Mingyu is over the moon. Having been your biggest supporter, he's elated you and Dino are finally going public. The fact that he's currently onstage accepting a daesang is completely thrown out of his mind, replaced with the joy of seeing Dino thrive.

Poor Woozi has DK's arms wrapped around him as if DK's trying to suffocate the man. He can't contain his excitement and joy at the reveal, accidentally using Woozi as a stress ball. He tackles Dino as they walk offstage, yelling about how CUTE that was and how lucky you are to have each other.

Seungkwan's stunned into complete silence. He's lowkey judging (just a little bit) at how insane Dino is acting right now - knowing this is bound to stir the pot online. He's the first one to tease Dino, going as far as clowning him during his own speech. "I once made a promise..." Seungkwan fails to keep a straight face as he clowned Dino's speech to his wife. "And I-" He's kicked off the mic by Dino before he can finish.

Vernon simply nods in approval as he watches Dino finish his speech. He respects the confidence and craziness to do such a thing, especially with how dating was basically a taboo for them as idols- and bros hard launching a whole ass wife!

#seventeen imagines #seventeen ot13 #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt #seventeen #svt fluff #idolverse #idol fic #idol x reader #dino x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fic #svt reactions #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt scenarios #requests

460 notes · View notes

anomalyaly · 28 days ago

Text

right where you left me

Summary: You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.

I profusely apologize for the pain.

Inspired by @sychenb for the prompt idea. Also crediting @sloanesallow for her headcanon about Sebastian keeping track of numbers.

(also sort of inspired by Unus Annus - iykyk - and Taylor Swift, if you couldn't guess by the title)

Tags: Angst, F!Reader POV (you), unreliable narrator, vague ship (Sebastian x reader/Ominis x reader), Sebastian was in love with you but never confessed, death, grief, ambiguous ending, overall the sads in general, I cried while writing this

AO3/Wattpad

It had been 279 days since you died.

At least, that’s what Sebastian tells you — your portrait, anyway. It was all that was left of you after the devastating battle you had fought and never walked away from. You hadn’t even known he’d had a portrait of you commissioned when you were alive until you woke up, your body cold, your face illuminated by the flickering candles of the Undercroft.

He comes to visit you every day — some days, he simply sits in front of you, cross-legged and silent. You creep into the frame and study him, the shadows on his face, a haunted look in his eye — unfamiliar. You can only recall a bright, talkative, charming boy with whom you were once close. You didn’t recognize him the first time he visited you, yet his presence brings you comfort.

On other days, you see traces of the boy he was before. He bursts in through the gate talking nonstop about everyone who misses you, about something he saw that you would have liked or that reminded him of you. Sometimes, he even brings you gifts and places them in front of your frame so you can admire them when he’s away.

That’s where he keeps you — hidden behind a wooden crate in the Undercroft like a sacred shrine, untouched by anyone but him. He only speaks with you when he is alone.

Another boy comes in on occasion, and you only know because of the sound of his voice and the pulsing red light of his wand that you can see from behind the pile of crates. Ominis, you remember Sebastian telling you, another friend from when you were alive. Sometimes they argue, other times they refuse to acknowledge each other. But Sebastian always keeps you tucked away, his own personal secret.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he sighs as he plops down in front of you. “300 days since you…well, since— ”

He could never bring himself to finish that sentence, even after almost a year. You never finish it for him.

“Are you going back to Feldcroft?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t do that to you.”

You knew he probably hadn’t been back since that dreadful day. He had only spoken of it once to refresh your memory. He never brought it up again.

“Sebastian,” you say, and he perks up at the sound of his name leaving your painted lips, “how come you always hide me away when Ominis comes in? Doesn’t he want to talk to me, too?”

His eyes flash with something — anger, perhaps, it was hard to tell from your two-dimensional world — and he stands, approaching your portrait. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only a portrait,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you’ve been practicing necromancy.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, but you don’t completely understand why. He turns away from you, fists clenched, shoulders tense and hunched over, before running his fingers through his hair and repeating himself more adamantly. “He wouldn’t understand.”

You remember him uttering a similar statement throughout your short life at Hogwarts — secrets that only the two of you shared, unbeknownst to Ominis until it was too late. “Surely he misses me, too— ”

“Did you love him?”

The question takes you by surprise, though you think it’s not the first time he’s asked it. “What?”

Sebastian whirls to face you, his gaze intense, demanding. “Did you love him? Or did you love me?”

Your portrait blinks, confused. Truthfully, you hadn’t been alive nearly long enough to confirm your feelings for either of them, but you knew that both boys had been important to you during your last few months of life. The portrait of you had only been a time capsule of your fifteen-year-old self — undecided and immature. You’re not even certain if the emotions you feel now are real or remnants of what you experienced when you were alive. “I…I cared deeply for both of you if that’s what you’re asking.”

Your answer nearly breaks him, as if he’s heard it a million times before. He tugs at his hair, the movement causing him to look frenzied and mad. “That’s not what I asked! Who did you — ”

“Sebastian?”

The voice of the intruder causes both of you to freeze. Sebastian pulls himself out from behind the crate and holds a finger to his lips before pushing it in front of you once more.

“Over here, Ominis.”

You hear footsteps and see the red glow of the other boy’s wand, then shuffling as Sebastian strategically places himself in front of the wooden box. The echoing footsteps grow closer, and you straighten at Ominis’s frantic tone as he speaks.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks. “I…I thought I heard…her.”

“No one else is here but me,” Sebastian says, guarded.

You can practically feel Ominis’s internal struggle to believe him. You decide that there have been enough secrets between the three of you — you’re not going to let it carry on post-mortem.

“Ominis? Is that you?” you call out. You hear Sebastian press his body against the crate in front of you. Ominis pushes past him, and they both tumble into it, knocking it over and exposing your portrait.

Chaos ensues at Ominis’s realization. The two boys are shouting at each other in front of you as you are helpless to stop them — Ominis, for having yet another secret kept from him, and Sebastian, for defending his reasonings. You aren’t sure if it’s because of jealousy, grief, or some combination of the two, but all you want is for the noise to stop.

You call out helplessly from your portrait, wishing you could step between them, just as you had done time and time again all those months ago. Before everything had gone so wrong.

Suddenly, hot, angry tears are pouring down both of their faces, and you are overcome with just how useless you are at this moment — a fragmented memory, trapped within the confines of your magical canvas. You want nothing more than to hug each of them, to let them feel your arms around them in comfort and take their pain away.

But you are gone.

The two boys now stand solemn and silent in front of you. Ominis takes a step closer, his wand hovering over your portrait before he runs his fingers along the gilded frame. “Is it…really you?”

“No.” You can hear the flatness in Sebastian’s voice, how tired and worn he truly is. He repeats exactly what you thought only moments before as if to confirm it. “She hardly remembers what happened, or even who we are. She’s just a fragment. A memory.”

You want to argue that it is you, but you know that he’s right. You barely remembered your living self until Sebastian explained everything to you on his daily visits. Whispers of your personality still shine through on occasion, but you are otherwise simply existing.

Ominis sighs, and you can hear the weight behind it, as if he had been holding his breath and finally allowed himself to release it. He traces his fingers along the divots of the frame once more, and you try to will yourself to feel it.

The two boys exchange an unspoken conversation that thickens the tension in the air. They seem to come to an agreement, and you let out a small breath — if you can call it that — of relief when they sit down in front of you and appear to bask in your presence. You stay quiet and allow them this moment — it’s the only thing you can do.

The days that follow are the same. No longer is Sebastian coming in alone for covert meetings with your portrait. Now, you see both Sebastian and Ominis at the same time every single day, a religious appointment that they’ve set aside just for you. They take turns talking to you, even if they can only manage a few words, and you learn to appreciate their company, knowing that you were loved by both of them in life.

Just like old times, Sebastian says, and the three of you laugh.

Christmas approaches quickly, or that’s what they say when they come to visit a short while later. They bring your favorite things from when you were alive — chocolate frogs, flowers, even books, which Sebastian reads to you — and they tell you stories about you and the kind of person they knew you to be. You wonder if it’s true, or if they have created an idealistic image of you since you are no longer there with them. Not really.

Kind, they say that you were, thoughtful, loving, self-sacrificial, and maybe a bit idealistic. You were friends with both of them, after all, the mischievous pair that they were, before everything was taken away from them, before life was unfair. They try to smile for you and remind you that Christmas at the castle is a time for celebration, but you can tell that it’s a weak facade.

You smile back at them anyway.

The anniversary of your death approaches. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything, aside from a few words to honor you. So the three of you sit in tearful silence, admiring the flowers that they decorated your portrait with. You think you can almost smell the sweet aroma of the bouquets.

Something changes in the air — you can sense it — though you aren’t sure what. You notice it when their visits become shorter, with fewer stories to tell, and fewer presents left in front of your frame. Sebastian and Ominis start showing up at separate times, stopping in for a brief hello before leaving with an excuse. You start to wonder what they are doing when they are gone, but you are unable to leave your frame — only one portrait of you was ever commissioned.

Soon, they start missing days, returning at a later time with profuse apologies about how life was busy, but they still miss you. Difficult classes, detention, studying for NEWTs, and preparing for a career — all of these seem to take precedence over you. But they still manage to make time in all of the hectic day-to-day activities, and you look forward to the days when they do come.

You wake up one morning and realize you are in a different location — Feldcroft, most likely, though you hadn’t seen it since that fateful day. Sebastian hangs your frame up on the wall, promising that he and Ominis will come to visit you more often now that they have graduated.

They don’t.

The length of time in between seeing them grows longer, you’re certain of it. Each time one of them arrives, they look a little bit different — sometimes they have longer hair, other times a bit of scruff around their chins, but they always come in looking more weathered than they had when you last saw them.

You realize that they are doing something that you will never again be able to join them in — growing older. You start to wonder about their lives outside of you, yet your painted mind cannot comprehend what an adult life looks like, forever frozen in your adolescent state. You find that you are unable to relate to any of their stories, and they seem to be holding back in what they choose to share.

I wish you were still here, they always say before they go, and you start to wonder if they mean it.

At long last, the visits from your once two closest friends become scarce, and you aren’t certain how much time has passed since someone last spoke to you. The bright flowers that once decorated your golden frame wither and die, and the little gifts they used to leave stay untouched and unopened. The tiny cottage in Feldcroft becomes a sepulcher of your essence — a permanent reminder that you are no longer among the living.

You can’t help but wonder if it was something you did, if their reasons for not returning were your fault. You can feel the stories that they used to tell you fading away, unable to retain the memories in your current form.

You decide that it’s time to rest.

In the quiet house, just south of Hogwarts, your portrait closes its eyes. You do not wake again.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #angst #hl fanfic #hl angst #hogwarts legacy angst fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot #reader pov

501 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Text

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests weren’t exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

5K notes · View notes

sylusjinwoon · 5 months ago

Text

{ 203 }

attention seeker.

alternate title: the five times he purposely got injured to get your attention.

sylus x (non.mc)healthcare.worker!fem.reader

notes: healthcare worker can be any profession of your choosing in the medical field like nursing, physician, pharmacist, physical therapist, etc.

{ i know you’re faking it, but that’s okay. }

ever since sylus knew of your occupation as a healthcare worker, the man stopped healing himself using his abilities, always wanting you to take care of his injuries and wounds.

he didn’t care how his wounds could heal with just a mere snap of his fingertips. all he wanted was to feel your soft touch; to bask in the way you would always dote on him as your fingertips would lightly trace at his cuts and bruises.

“what's this? aren't you the almighty leader of onychinus who can't be killed? why would you ever need my services?" he recalls you asking him in a giggle, earning a growl of your name from him as he gave you paper thin excuses.

"i have been feeling more exhausted than usual, and am unable to bring forth such abilities. so... are you going to heal me or not?" his haughty reply would always earn him a playful roll of your eyes at him, yet you were never one to deny him of his needs (a fact that he was all too willing to take advantage of.)

currently, he was busy examining his supply of weapons, and his hands itched with a sudden desire to run his fingers through your hair while bringing your pliant form into his embrace. frustrated at how distracted he was feeling, sylus pushes himself away from his desk all while taking deliberate strides toward your shared bedroom.

he arrives at the master bedroom within a few minutes, letting a huff in response as he pushes aside the doors, revealing your sleeping form settled comfortably atop the king-sized bed. sylus freezes in his steps, wishing to take a moment to admire you. crimson eyes trail down your body with adoration shining within his gaze, taking note of how vulnerable you looked as his silk sheets were tangled up within the length of your legs.

after spending a few moments simply watching you, sylus steps closer to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he reaches out a hand to brush back your hair. while burning your image into his very memories, he couldn't help but reminisce about the times he had given himself an injury or experienced pain, just so he could begin to heal with your gentle touch...

{ ... }

sylus had purposely put himself in the middle of a bar fight the moment the bastard had managed to give him a black eye in response to his intervention. he was around the area, wishing to check on the businesses he owned when he stepped foot into the bar.

immediately, he knew something was amiss when he caught sight of a drunkard messing with one of the female bartenders, the scent of vodka reeking from the bastard's very veins when sylus stepped closer to him. he merely placed a hand on that drunkard's shoulder when the bastard swung at him, managing to land his fist against sylus's eye.

red hot anger was felt coursing through his veins as he grabbed the vodka drenched man by the collar of his torn shirt, forcing him to land head first against the onyx counter. when he hears the satisfying crunch of bones breaking against the marble counter, a sense of satisfaction fills him-

but sylus wanted more-

he was bloodthirsty, and he felt the way his left eyelid seemed to pulse from the sudden impact of the asshole's punch-

yet what ultimately stops him was the sight of your smiling face, and how you would have been so disappointed in him for ruthlessly killing for no good reason.

with a scoff, sylus shoves the drunkard away from the counter before dragging his body out of his bar, tossing him outside and into the pouring rain. "you're lucky i felt generous enough to spare your life. leave this place and never come back, unless you really have a death wish."

sylus was uncertain if the man had even heard him when he started to puke profusely, earning another grunt of disgust from onychinus's leader as he looked away from the vomiting man.

turning away from the mess, sylus goes to check on the bartender, and once he was certain she was unharmed, he leaves the bar through the back exit and rides his motorcycle, with the intention of returning home to his shared penthouse-

of returning home to you.

filled with motivation thanks to the thought of you, sylus purposely speeds through the rain, dodging traffic as he rode between several vehicles with you as his sole purpose. after racing through the city, he finally arrives back home, parking his bike in its usual spot before making his trek back to toward the penthouse settled at the top floor.

the moment he unlocks the door, he was greeted by your smiling face, with your arms already outstretched to welcome him. however, when you notice the purple and black bruise beginning to blossom against his left eye was when your demeanor completely changes.

"oh my god, what happened to you, sylus?!"

"hm? what do you mean?" he was frowning, but here you were, chattering around him like a worried, mother hen.

"your eye...! your left eye has the worst bruise on it!" you tell him with a hiss, taking him into your shared bedroom before settling him on one of the couches. he was ready to protest, the words ready to spill from his parted lips when you suddenly disappeared into the bathroom, pulling out a first aid kit before rejoining him on the couch.

with your eyes filled with love and concern for him, he allows you to gently dab at his bruised eye with a cold handkerchief, biting back a grin as you worked on treating his bruise.

he never used his powers to heal that night, for he found a much deeper comfort in having you care for him instead.

{ ... }

the day he had broken his arm was completely and utterly accidental on his part. he was simply working out, not paying any attention when the weights on the shelf slid down and just happened to land on his arm.

upon feeling such an impact on his arm, he let out a string of curses, but refused to readjust his arm and heal himself. when he steps out of his personal gym and greets you, he purposely lays the extent of his pain on thick.

"sweetie... i'm afraid an accident happened... could you help me? i believe my left arm is broken."

you were in the midst of reading a book when he returned back home to you, already seeing the worry in your gaze as you stood up from your seat. "sy, what happened?"

he lets out a hiss when you gingerly touch at his arm, hiding back a grin before admitting to you. "i think a fifty pound weight fell off from the shelf and landed on my arm when i tried to catch it. the pain... it's too much to bear. i can hardly focus."

that was when your doting nature reappeared, helping him into bed with the same determination shining in your eyes as you put some ice on his arm while offering him some medicine to aid with easing the pain.

you spend the next hour or so scolding him, telling him to be more careful as you help with keeping his arm in place, already making plans to set up an appointment at the clinic for him as sylus couldn't help but simply smile in response.

never before had another human being shown so much compassion and concern for him-

and he loved every minute of it.

{ ... }

the bruises on his back and abdomen caused by luke and kieran's training was also a mess that sylus had purposely brought upon himself.

knowing that his kids henchmen were all too eager to train and show off their newly acquired skills at ambushing him, sylus allows the twins to treat him like their own personal punching bag, knowing that their blows were hardly painful-

but it was enough to cause a series of bruises appear all across his body, causing your gentle hands to remain glued to him, doing everything that you could to help him heal.

after spending two hours with the twins, sylus dismisses them the moment he hears you coming home from work. knowing that you were currently undressing in the bedroom, ready to destress after a hard day at work.

with a half smirk donning his features, he enters the bedroom dressed in his gym clothes. calling out your name, he catches your attention, watching as you turn around and face him.

"hello, my grumpy crow." he grumbles at your nickname for him, but welcomes you in his arms with little hesitation. you lean up to press a kiss against his lips, allowing him to deepen it for a brief moment before pulling away from him.

you meet his gaze, arms already coming up to wrap around his neck when you saw several purple and black marks on his chest.

"sylus, what happened to you?!" you let out a gasp, taking a step back as you saw several bruises blossoming against his pale skin. he simply hums, feigning innocence as he looked down at his chest. "oh, luke and kieran's punches were so light that i barely felt them. i guess they're getting stronger now if they're able to bruise me like this."

a look of suspicion crosses your lovely features, but instead of questioning him, you let out a sigh before taking his hand and leading him into your shared bathroom.

with his luxurious, porcelain tub in sight, you turn on the faucet, allowing the hot water to fill before focusing your attention on sylus. he meets your gaze, expression filled with a calm confidence. he watches as you step closer to him, hands running up the fabric of his tank top before sliding it off his body. you do the same with his shorts and boxers, leaving him completely bare for you.

"wow, you've stripped me of all my clothes and have yet to pounce on me, that's quite an achievement, kitten." you roll your eyes at his teasing words, pushing him into the tub as he lands inside of it with an audible splash!

his eyes darken with desire for you, hands running through his now soaked strands of hair. he sits back up against the tub while watching you with hungry eyes as you shed the rest of your clothes. once you remained just as bare for him, you join him, settling yourself on his lap while gently massaging and soothing the bruises seen across his body.

unfortunately for you, your innocent touches simply served as a means for sylus to unleash the entirety of his desires on you, making love to you as he stopped caring about the sheer amount of water that lands against the marble flooring of the bathroom in response to sylus's passionate movements... simply basking in your cries of pleasure.

{ ... }

the day he had gotten sick with a fever was something that was truly accidental on his part.

it was a stressful time for him, with news of a traitor lingering within onychinus taking over his time as he sought out the mole. sylus had spent countless nights looming over his men, his eyes never leaving their sights before he came into contact with a man who's thoughts were filled to the brim with greed.

upon realizing that the bastard had been leaking important information to a rival, sylus takes it upon himself to get rid of the problem permanently, refusing to give the man a second chance (even as he begged for his life.)

yet by the end of it all, a strange exhaustion was felt coursing through his veins. his steps were uneven and heavy when he manages to return back to the penthouse, panting while thinking of you (always thinking of you).

the moment he comes home and sees you in the kitchen, the scent of your cooking filling his nostrils, he thought he would be excited to see you; to bask in your cooking as he was finally able to relax after such an arduous event.

but all he felt was an impending nausea, leaving him trembling and coughing as he struggled to get on the couch. hearing his struggles, you shut off the stove and cease cooking, coming closer to him.

"sylus!"

you settle yourself in front of him, taking note of the haziness seen within his gaze. normally, his eyes shone a bright red and ruby hue, so filled with life-

yet now, they became hazy and dull, losing the light it once had due to his mental exhaustion.

sylus was unable to respond to you, letting out a deep sigh when he feels the palm of your hand touch at his skin. you gasp, feeling just how hot his skin was beneath your touch. "you're burning up...!"

still in a haze, sylus was dimly aware of the way you helped him stand up, practically dragging his body towards the bedroom as his fevered body was pressed up against you. he didn't know when or how it happened, but you had placed his body in bed while peeling off his clothes, leaving his expensive suit in a pile in the corner of the room.

the man was about to respond to you, telling you how his suit was worth what a businessman makes in a year, but was unable to do so. he was going in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of you saying "i'll be right back..." before disappearing from his view completely.

sylus's hands itched with the urge to grip at your wrists-

to prevent you from leaving him so soon when all he wanted was for you to stay by his side and hold him; to comfort him when he was in such desperate need of you.

without you here, the man found it difficult to close his eyes and fall asleep, your absence making him feel even grumpier as he sat up from his spot in bed. losing track of time, he was ready to stomp out of the room (using all of his remaining strength if he had to) just to get to you and force you to come back with him.

but his anger soon disappears the moment you enter the room with a tray in hand. he tilts his head at you, seeing what looked like a steaming bowl of soup with a tall glass of ice water and some tylenol. setting the tray on the nightstand, you click your tongue and hold the bowl in your hand.

"what am i going to do with you?"

sylus chuckles in response to your question, "what are you going to do with me? well, you're going to take care of me, of course."

you let out a soft laugh before dipping the spoon in the broth, gently blowing on it before feeding it to him. you bask in the way he allows you to feed him, showing you a vulnerability that you had never seen before. once he finishes eating the soup, you offer him two tablets and watch as he drains it with the glass of water. only when you place the emptied glass on the tray did he make his move.

with your hands free of all bowls and utensils, sylus wraps his arms around your body, crushing your form close to his chest before laying back in bed with you. a series of giggles was heard coming from your parted lips, and sylus found that he had enough strength to bask in such a sweet sound.

he continues holding you, allowing your gaze to meet with his, you gently brush back his hair with a smile, smoothing back the lines seen against his forehead before gently telling him, "go to sleep... you need it."

sylus lets out a huff of your name, taking a hold of your hand before biting down against the side of it. "only you have the power to tell me what to do and how to live my life. remember that."

returning your form closer to his embrace, sylus holds you to his chest before slowly falling into a peaceful slumber, feeling all of his stress melt away the moment your warmth begins to surround him.

{ ... }

it was just a simple cut on his cheek-

but the way he kept pouting glaring at you made it seemed like he was in an excruciating amount of pain.

sylus was mad at you, remaining settled on the couch while refusing to look at you.

"if my blood drips on the couch, then it's your fault for not healing me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes even further upon hearing his theatrics. "sylus, you and i both know that you can survive a simple gunshot wound to the chest. this cut is nothing in comparison, my love."

a plethora of grumpy sounds were heard coming from him, his arms now settled across his chest as a bitter scowl paints his expression. "and i told you i don't like abusing my powers. so are you going to help this heal or not?"

bullshit.

if that's the case, how on earth did you heal before i came into your life?

you wanted to call him out on his lie, you really did-

but seeing the soft (almost puppy dog look) in his eyes makes you stop. as you sift through your memories and think back to all the times you had helped sylus 'heal,' you had a sudden epiphany.

perhaps it wasn't the fact that you could help him heal him, but rather...

he liked the fact that you worried and constantly doted over him, since caring for him was an integral part of your love language.

with a wistful smile, you head back into your shared bedroom, taking out your first aid kit before returning to sylus. you sit directly beside him, gently taking a hold of his chin, revealing the thin cut on his defined cheek to you. with a q-tip in hand, you apply some of the antibacterial ointment on it before gently covering the slender line of blood with it. once it was completely covered, you choose a rather colorful band-aid decorated with blue penguins, settling it directly over the cut.

"there, better?" you set off the first aid kit to the side, ready to leave when sylus grips at your wrist.

"not quite, darling. you missed a step." his eyes were shining with mischief now, pointing directly at his 'injured cheek' now covered with a bandaid. "you know what to do."

letting out a feigned sound of annoyance, you lean in closer, pressing a kiss directly over where you had placed the bandaid as you felt him smiling against your lips. before you could move away from him, sylus ends up tackling your body against the couch, littering your face with obnoxious kisses as he elicits the sounds of joyous laughter from you.

{ ... }

by the end of his reveries, he was left smiling, heart filled with love for you as he slowly joins you in bed.

making sure that his movements were slow and steady, he manages to get into bed without disturbing you, taking you into his arms with a grin on his face.

sylus takes a minute to admire you once more, brushing back your hair while relishing in your natural beauty. "i can never get enough of you..." he admits in a hoarse tone, wondering just how lucky he was to be able to say that you were his; that you belonged to him alone.

filled with adoration for you, sylus allows himself to close his eyes, visibly relaxing in bed as he places your body on top of his chest. you stir for the briefest of moments, but end up smiling in your sleep, somehow knowing that you would always be loved and protected by him...

a.n. - lmao my current major / career goals has to deal with the medical field, so this was a very self-indulgent story for me to write (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #jin woon x reader #jin woon x you #sylus x you #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #.stories

1K notes · View notes

jaylver · 7 months ago

Text

THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS

synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining

warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence

wc: 6.5k

a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.

He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.

A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.

An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around.

You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one.

It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay?

The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable.

jjong: you up?

you: ?

jjong: did you delete my number?

If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.

you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?

jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago

you: okay …?

jjong: you said if we're both still single in five years, we should get married

you: you took that seriously?

jjong: should i not have?

you: dumbass, i was tipsy

jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober

you: it's stupid

jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.

He missed you?

jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?

you: you swear you're not going to pull something?

jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows

you: cut the crap, jay

jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest

jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)

How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now.

It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say?

The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.

The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.

You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay.

It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.

You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging.

"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"

The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.

"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead.

He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.

"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything.

"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"

You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him.

Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"

You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock?

"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"

The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"

"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right.

Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place.

"Can I hug you?"

For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better.

The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.

The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held.

Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.

"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away.

You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.

"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"

To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.

Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.

"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.

You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"

"For now," Heeseung chimed in.

"What?"

"You were literally holding hands with him,"

"It's platonic,"

"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.

"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you.

"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places.

"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.

"You're still hung over him? It never … went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.

"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"

The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?

Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.

"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room.

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably.

"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay.

You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"

Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."

Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk.

"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.

He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step.

"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.

You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?

"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"

You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"

Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Will you stay?"

You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.

"I'll stay."

That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay.

You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again?

Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.

With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.

It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real.

"Can we talk?"

Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.

"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"

"What?"

"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"

It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"

"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"

You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained.

"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent.

"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"

"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope.

"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"

Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."

Was it possible to mend everything?

Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while.

The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was.

That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.

"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"

"It's complicated,"

Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"

"Hey!"

"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?"

"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"

"Why not?"

"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.

"Then would you rather regret it?"

"Huh?"

"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."

Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him.

Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them.

"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.

"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.

"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase.

"What?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"

Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"

"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.

"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.

"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon.

"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare.

"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers.

He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.

"Jay—"

There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.

"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night.

You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.

"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you.

"Jay, it's okay,"

"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry,"

"Jay—"

"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all?

You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened.

Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all.

"You're just going to leave it at that?"

A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?

"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"

Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"

"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."

Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself.

Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears.

"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you.

The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?"

"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.

Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"

In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"

"Of what?"

"Of you leaving again,"

Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"

The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated.

You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"

Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.

It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced. Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.

Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else.

"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"

You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."

That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.

That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close.

For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.

Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget.

It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.

You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"

"Chocolate cake?"

"Okay, something not edible,"

"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.

"Close your eyes,"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes,"

You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you.

"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"

This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.

"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"

"Are you staying over tonight?"

"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side.

"You know it always is."

Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog @eleanorheartschishiya @nanabbg @letwiiparkjay @teddywonss @classicroyalty @run2x @yannnnaj @jakesfurry @gyuwooboozle @nylajp24 @usedto-me @vernonburger @simjyunnie @haerasblog @rikizm @jakevascaino @sunpov @ms-no1kpopstan @jiawji @rikizm @cheerrxy @kimsunoops @heelariously @thesassy-mia @shawnyle @cloud-lyy @aposjsj

988 notes · View notes

stvrnzcherries · 10 months ago

Text

› BRUTAL

c. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: Chris got into a fight with his girlfriend Paige and you comforted him until things led to another...

warnings: dom!chris, angst, smut, fingering, degrading kink, make out, pet names, cheating, alcohol, use of y/n, throwing up, toxic relationship.

word count: 2.4k

You were at a house party that a few friends of the triplets organized. You were near the drinks table with Nick and Madi while Matt, Chris, and his girlfriend Paige were on the other side of the house. The thing is that you’re drunk right now and you can't help but stare at Chris, the way he caresses Paige's waist, the way he leans to whisper dirty little things to her, you want that, you want to be the one that he says those things, you want to be the one he can touch, love, crave for.

And it killed you that she was perfect and you felt like you would never be like her.

Little did you know...

“Y/n!” Nick snaps you out of your trance waving a hand across your face.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You asked while you kept glaring at Chris’ direction.

“Do you want to play beer pong with us?” He asked once again

You nodded and that's when you saw Chris leaving with Paige upstairs.

Ouch.

This shouldn't be affecting you this much, but it hurts like hell. You can’t even recall when you started to feel this way about him, but it drove you crazy.

“Sure, but I kinda need some water…” And that’s when you felt it, your stomach turning, feeling the lump forming in your throat, this was the moment where your decision to get drunk would make you suffer the consequences for it. Kneeling on the floor, wrapping your arms around your stomach, feeling the acid making you gag, your first instinct was to pick up your cup and throw up on the inside, If you were going to humiliate yourself, the least you could do was to not make a mess on the fucking floor.

Feeling the sensation wear off slightly after literally throwing up your intestines (or at least that’s how it felt) you tried to stand up. Failing miserably, causing Nick and Madi to pick you up and rest your left arm around Nick’s shoulders and your right arm on Madi’s shoulders, trying to carry you to the bathroom as fast as they could.

Chris' POV

I went upstairs with Paige since she needed to talk to me. I think I’ve never felt so anxious in my life as I do right now. That’s when we got there and the conversation in reality was just Paige complaining about a trip I was going on with my brothers in a few days. “I just don’t understand why can’t you stay here with me!” she yelled.

“I already told you a few weeks ago that I’m not canceling another trip with my brothers just because you feel like not letting me go, you’re not my fucking mother to tell me where I can go or not, what I can do or not! Because guess what, Paige, I can do the fuck I want.” I snapped back, making Paige turn around and slap me harshly, leaving a red mark across my cheek.

I held my cheek, not feeling slightly shocked anymore since this started way back ago, I could tell by her face that she regretted it instantly.

“Chris, baby…” she tried to place her hand on the spot where she marked, making me pull away from her touch.

“And now you just gave me more reasons to go on that fucking trip,” I added between sobs, trying to hold back the tears, turning my back to her.

"Please, don't leave me… I can fix this..." She gripped my arm.

"As far as I remember, you mentioned the same thing last time we fought." The resentment showed up in my voice, but I couldn't help it. How could someone so perfect turn into a complete monster? How can someone hurt someone they love?

And when I left the room, I would rather not see her face or hear her voice.

Y/n’s POV

You were in the bathroom throwing up while Madi was making you a ponytail and Nick rubbed your back. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Shit,” Nick murmured as you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling way better than how you were.

“What?” Madi asked, her voice sounding tense.

“Matt just texted me we’re leaving right now.” You sat up straight, panicking, “What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to go until 1:00 AM…”

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, there’s a change of plans.”

You checked your phone, and it was only midnight, “You guys should convince Matt if we can go in 30 minutes?”

They looked at each other and then back at you, “We won’t leave you here, y/n.”

“I’ll be fine, guys don’t need to worry about me.” You smiled at both of them.

Nick shook his head. “I’ll just text Chris to ask him if he can try to convince Matt to let us stay a little longer.” He spoke as he started to type on his phone. “We’re not leaving you here alone, end of the conversation.”

"Alright, Dad," you replied jokingly, having as a response an eye roll from Nick as he was about to laugh.

Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of you were still inside the bathroom waiting for Chris’ answer. “Did he text you already?” You asked as you rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting sour taste you had.

"Yes, and he's giving me a headache already!" Nick answered as he kept texting back and forth with whom you supposed was Chris, "He won't stop being a fucking baby, and it's bitch complaining to me that Matt keeps insisting that we have to go now."

"Well...maybe we should try to—" You got interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, you all looked at each other confused.

As you open the door, you see a long-haired brunette and a pair of pretty blue eyes.

It was Chris. His eyes seemed puffy and a little red as if he were crying. “Is Nick here?” Anger was plastered on his face.

That’s when Nick stood up and opened the bathroom door, “What the fuck, Chris? Can’t you do a simple task?” causing Chris to scoff “And you clearly can’t read. I texted you back saying that Matt didn’t give a shit about you guys needing more time. He wants to go now.”

“Did you explain to him that y/n is not feeling well right now?” Nick snapped back, crossing his arms.

Chris rubbed his face with both his hands before scanning your entire face. “Isn’t she okay now?”

“Chris! She could barely walk by herself a few minutes ago, why’s is it so hard for you to do a fucking favor and ask our brother to give us some time?!” Nick answered, his voice rising.

“Because I don’t understand why the fuck you guys need more time, y/n look completely fine, and you’re making a huge fucking deal out of it!” Chris’ voice also got a little louder.

“Because it will be a fucking huge deal when she’s throwing up all over the fucking car!” He shouted.

Chris’ jaw clenched.

“Then why don’t you ask Matt, since it’s such a big deal, huh?”

“Fine, I’ll fucking go and instead you and y/n will stay here while Madi and I sort this out since it’s so difficult for you.” Nick left the bathroom, Madi following his pace as Chris moved out of the way so they could get out.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—” Chris shut the door behind him and looked at you, tears forming in his eyes. Your first instinct was to hug him.

He just cried as silently as he could. You guessed that alcohol hits him differently than it does to you. He dragged you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, and you began to stroke his hair. “Everything’s going to be alright, Chris.”

“No, it’s not, I’m a fucking burden to everybody and,” His sobs getting louder than before. “First, I fought with Paige and now Nick.”

You pulled back to look at his face, pulling his chin up so he could look at you, “You’re not a burden to no one, Chris.” You said, “You’re like the sun, and when the sun comes out, everyone smiles.” You kept talking, caressing his right cheek with your thumb, “Besides, whatever you and Paige fought about was just because she was drunk, it’ll pass.”

He just nodded and then rested his face on the crook of your neck and kept crying a little.

A few minutes had passed, you and Chris were sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing and talking a little.

“You know, If I’m being honest…I kind of envy Paige.” You said while looking up at the ceiling.

“Why?” Chris replied, furrowing his brows slightly

“Because she’s so beautiful and I’m not…” You admitted.

“Well that’s not true, you are really beautiful too.” He looked at you and smiled.

Beautiful, he called you beautiful.

A buzz sound came from Chris’ phone, he picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”

“What he said?”

“Matt accepted to stay a little more.”

“Excellent! This means I can finally get out of this bathroom.” You stood up and fixed your dress a bit, offering a hand to Chris.

He took your hand and stood up, as he was looking at you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips.

And that’s when you noticed how your faces were just inches apart, feeling his breath hitting your face softly. “Chris…”

“Y/n…”

His palms were resting now on your cheeks, your mouths almost touching, “Do you want to kiss me, hm?” He suggested, grazing his lips against yours teasingly, causing you to shiver a little.

Of course, you wanted it, but was it right? Will he regret it? Will you regret it?

Something snapped you back from reality, cold hands running on your lower back down to your ass, gripping it slightly, “I asked you something.” His voice shifted to a demanding tone.

Fuck it.

You crush your lips against his. At first, it was sloppy, both fighting for dominance, he kept his grip on your ass, gripping it harder. Making you gasp.

And that’s when he gets the chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. Your body pressed against the cold marble sink that was right behind you, his hands now resting on the sides of your hips. Chris picked you up from your thighs and sat you up on the bathroom sink. Lifting your dress to reveal your black laced panties.

His hand snaked down to your inner thigh. His kisses lowered from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. His fingers finally got to your heat, your panties soaking wet. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered, causing you to whimper a bit. He pulled your panties to the side and began to rub in circles your sensitive nub, whimpers coming out of your mouth. Shaking breaths, your hands gripping on the sink, your knuckles getting white.

“You fucking like that, don’t you?” Chris asked through gritted teeth, applying more pressure on your clit. You nodded but that made things worse, “You better use your fucking words, y/n. Or else I’ll stop and leave you all alone.”

“Y-yes, I l-like i-it.” You handled letting out. Chris smirked and kept stroking your clit. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, your head resting against the mirror wall, feeling the wave of pleasure consuming you. “Fuck…”

But then, the pleasure stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Chris, he was smirking at you while he sucked his fingers, guiding them back to your throbbing pussy. Slipping them inside you, painfully slow. Your walls clench around his fingers, your legs squeezing with each other, a loud gasp coming out from you. Chris began to pick up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you “Just like that, keep making those pretty noises for me like a good girl.” He groaned, intensifying his speed with each thrust.

He looked down where his fingers were working their way to bring you over the edge, you let pornographic moans out of your mouth, giving Chris what he wants.

Control.

“You look so fucking pathetic right now.” He grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced you to see him, his eyes darkened and full of desire. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You fucking slut.” Chris whispered to you, pumping his fingers mercilessly in and out of you. “You wanted this? You wanted me to finger you?”

You nodded desperately, feeling the well-known knot forming inside of you, you were about to come. “I-I’m so c-close,” you mumbled. “What was that?” He gripped your chin tighter. Your hands grasp tighter on the bathroom sink, your climax getting closer and closer with each thrust. “Don’t stop, fuck.” You spat, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt finally getting to the edge.

“I won't.” He replied, getting closer to leave a few hickeys on your collarbone and the crook of your neck. That's when you felt your release “Fuck!” a loud moan coming out from you, your walls clenching around Chris’ fingers. Your juices flooded all over his fingers. Chris took out his fingers, a popping sound as he did. Your chest goes up and down violently, and your breath is heavy.

He looked at his fingers then at you, “Open your eyes, now.” You open your eyes slowly to get the view of Chris cleaning out his fingers until there isn't a single drop of your juices around his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, ma.”

What the fuck was going on tonight.

You were in the backseat with Nick and Madi, gossiping about tonight's party “It was fun.” Nick admitted.

“Yeah, I think I’m not going to parties anymore,” Matt added.

And there was Chris, glancing at you a few times before they left you at your apartment.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said to them as you waved at them.

You're finally in a quieter place, where you can think about what just happened tonight with Chris.

It finally happened, you finally got what you wanted with Chris and even more.

But it wasn’t enough, you craved for more.

But then, reality hits.

He was still with Paige, and you were just a distraction to him.

Or that’s what you thought until…

You got a text from someone.

It was Chris.

a/n: not the best one-shots ever but here you go!!! Lmk if there are any mistakes!

Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #smut #imagine #angst #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #stvrnzcherries˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

1K notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago

Note

Hi bunny!

Can I please have Belgian waffles, angel food cake and on the house ( hopefully that is the correct thing to say) with max or danny or both 🫶

Love all you have written 🫶🫶

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's great to hear what orders you come up with! as for this lovely request from @biancathecool thank you! and yes i can write for the other two drivers you sent in another message (their names escape me as i write this), but yes! hit me with it!! thank you! enjoy!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + on the house: coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen & daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, maxiel + reader, rivals au, ferrari!reader, cock & pussy drunk, degrading language/dirty talk, mean!max, mean!daniel, rough sex, dom/sub, biting/marking, possessive beheaviour, hate fuck, facials & back shots, cum eating

sharing was caring, at least in daniel's eyes. he had shared a lot of things over the course of his friendship with max verstappen. there were normal things like food, plane rides, they spent weekends together even. he could even recall a night austin when they both shared the same girl for an evening.

so it only made sense that daniel ricciardo would share his favourite rival. the cute little thing on the ferrari team. lucky number forty-seven.

max was mad by the end of the dutch grand prix. one clip from you, another from leclerc. he was getting pummelled by the prince and princess of ferrari on his home turf. and that left a bitter taste in his mouth as he hit his helmet against the wall once the race was over.

you dressed in your ferrari red, beaming at charles who came in first. ferrari took first and second while the lion of the netherlands barely clung to fifth. as you and charles sprayed champagne on each other and laughed, max could feel the anger in his veins.

and daniel was like the devil in max's ear, "hey max, seem kind of pissed." he placed his hand on max's shoulder, "you know, i'm seeing her after this... in my hotel room. you're free to join us, maybe get some of that anger out." he patted the other man's shoulder.

max's jaw tensed for a moment as he got a full view of you on the podium, laughing and waving. max couldn't very well put you under his boot, but he could make a mess of your pretty insides.

"we have a guest tonight." daniel chuckled as he served you more wine.

you were in the hotel room robe with very little underneath. you were tired of wearing clothes after being in that stuffy uniform all day. you happily accepted the wine and brought the glass to your lips, "guest? you didn't."

daniel chuckled and put the bottle down back on the coffee table, "word won't get out. he's good at keeping secrets." he patted your thigh.

the wine tasted good, expensive in a way that you weren't accustomed to. you had your fair share of grocery store wine, but the more that daniel lured you in with the finer things in life. it was getting harder to go back to your old ways. money couldn't buy taste, but it could buy flavor.

there was a knock on the door and daniel got up. you took sight of his ass in those the sweatpants he wore. there was no use looking formal, you were both here for the same thing.

daniel didn't say who the guest of the evening was. but you almost spilled red wine all over yourself at the sight of max on the other side of the door.

"daniel." you said, "not max."

daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled, "c'mon, princess. i can assure you that he won't hurt you... too much." that gleaming smile of his always seemed to get you into more trouble.

you put the glass down and kept your focus on the two men as max entered the hotel room.

"she looks good." max said as if you weren't in the room with them. you swallowed when he looked at you, "she looks better without the uniform on."

"max..." you said.

"well you know, mate." daniel smiled "i cum in that every night." your arrangement had been going on for some time. it didn't help that you lived in the same building during the off season and he'd often visit you in your driver's room. often to get a taste of that soaked cunt he adored.

your ears went hot as you replied, "danny, what the fuck."

max took a step forward and got his shoes off. he stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans. his eyes gazed with hunger on you. it made you close your robe a little more.

"princess." daniel said as he went back to the couch and pulled you close to him, "i think you own max an apology. you've been fucking with him, toying with him. i see how you look at him, when i mention his name you get wet." his grip on you grew tighter, "it's only right you make amends for your team."

you were soon seated in the middle of the couch between the two men. usually the routine with daniel was that you two would have some wine, indulge in kinky and he'd often cuddle you until you made a hasty escape back to your hotel room before anyone caught on.

but there was a look in daniel's eye that had you worried. it felt like you were between two lions who wanted nothing more than to sink their claws into you. chew you up and devour you whole.

daniel started to undo the robe you wore, while max held you face in a tight grip. you weren't going anywhere fast. daniel's lips were on the back of your neck, in a sensitive spot and max was kissing you deeply

"are you going to be good for us, princess?" daniel asked before he made you keep eye contact with max by holding onto your hair.

you looked into the other's blue eyes and swallowed, "you two are sick."

max raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze looked to daniel, "seems you haven't trained her." he spoke about you like you were a dog, not the second place of this weekend's race.

daniel got a hand around your throat and held onto it tightly, he tilted your head back to look at him. he said in a soft voice, "you're making my look bad. i promised our good friend max here a good night tonight."

you swallowed, you felt something boil in your stomach. like it was all going to boil over soon. you were sandwiched between two men who honestly hated you after the grand prix.

you looked at daniel for a moment before you said, "sorry, sir."

"and you'll be good for our friend tonight? treat him nicely. no teeth, no attitude?"

you nodded like an eager puppy and daniel kissed you on the lips. you were pushed up further against the australian driver as max pressed further into you. further being squished between the two men.

when you stopped kissing daniel, max captured your lips once more. you held onto the back of the couch with one hand as a means of some sort of support.

you were stripped of your robe before daniel made you get off the couch and onto the bed in the other room. you scampered away on shaky legs, basically exposed to both men. you could feel their gazes on you.

"why not the couch?" max asked, it would've been easy for max to fold you in half or toss you over the couch.

daniel chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, "it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed. she's pretty flexible, can fuck her about anywhere. but i'd love for us to have a little more comfort." then got off the couch to join you with the dutch driver close behind.

you knew that if you wanted to keep your underwear in one piece, you had to get them off before the other men came. your kicked off your panties and your bra was on the floor before you sat on top of the bed, one leg over the other.

this all felt so sick, it was almost degrading. their stares and their words pierced through you and left your brain running on carnal desires.

you watched them come in, and you tried to make yourself appear a tad smaller, but daniel's voice made you sit up straight once more.

"show them off, princess."

daniel was on you first, he clothes went flying as he smothered you against him. he weight on top of you kept you pinned down to the hotel room bed.

he kissed you with a fever, only breaking it to get his t-shirt off over his head. you felt the leg of his jeans grind against your soaked sex which made you whimper.

he looked over his shoulder for a moment to say to max, "come on in, the water's fine." before he went back to kissing you with a heated passion.

max was slower to get his clothes off. everything came off slowly as he felt a throb between his legs. watching his friend make you a debauched mess.

daniel was a good friend, letting max have a taste of you. letting him sink his teeth into you. and you were such a good little girl for letting max enact his revenge for your little stunt on the track. maybe that'll teach you.

you were meant to look pretty for ferrari, their logo plastered across your pretty tits, not to get in the way of men like max and daniel.

daniel got away from you and propped himself on the bed beside you. his expression was wild and his cheeks were hot. "c'mon there, maxie! don't be so shy!"

max was in his briefs and you swallowed at you looked at him. even so physically exposed, his gaze remained stern on you. you knew he could crack jokes and be funny. but your (almost) win left something searing inside of him.

you swallowed and with a bit of confidence you crooked your finger at him, "yeah, mad max."

"wouldn't be so mad if you gave me a reason not to be, princess."

you swallowed and tried to bite back, in a last ditch effort to gain some sort of control between these two men, "maybe you should race better."

the corner of max's mouth twitched before he looked at daniel, "i'm taking her throat." before he got onto the bed and got himself up against the headboard, he gave his thigh a pat.

daniel was in your space once more, hand on your hip as he said, "you heard the man, hands and knees, princess."

you got between max's legs, your front pressed against the bed to give you the best chance to suck his cock. your ass was stuck up to give daniel a good angle as well. you were to be used.

you looked up at max, his cock pressed against your cheek. you let out a shuddered breath.

"not much of a princess." he said as he took your hair in his hand. his grip was tight, not enough to rip any of it out. but firm enough to guide you onto his cock.

daniel slapped your ass before he placed those large hands on your hips. he chuckled in response, "more like a whore. i wonder what ferrari would think of this? sandwiched between two other drivers. shame, shame." he rubbed his tip up against your wet slit as you started to suck max off.

max held onto your hair as you got your lips around his cock. he took back anything he said about you not being trained. you sucked cock like an obedient dog.

daniel noticed max's expression and chuckled, "i told you she would be good for you." their gaze's met and he added, "took her about eight months to lose that gag reflex. now she's the cock sucking champ of formula one."

max felt something unfamiliar curl in his stomach, "do you share her often?"

daniel shook his head, "no way. she's isn't some whore i give out at parties. we're friends, max. and she needs to learn a lesson."

max looked down at you and pinched your cheek, "if charles fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you." a threat about your teammate. that you were responsible for the entire team. to not upset the likes of max verstappen.

daniel was lapping this up. he knew that sometimes you could be a bit mouthy in the bedroom, so it was nice to have someone fill that gap. keep you nice and quiet.

you whimpered when daniel stuffed his cock inside of you suddenly and your back arched more which allowed the man to push further into you. you were drooling around max's cock, having it almost choke you.

"always wondered how she got in." max said idly as he ran his fingers through your hair. he kept an eye on how well you choked down his cock, "i know her daddy didn't buy her way in. she wasn't the best in any race she was in." he spoke like you weren't in the room. he pushed his cock deeper, your nose in his trimmed pubic hair, "did you give mister vasseur head, princess?"

you met his gaze like you were going to respond but the driver's cock in your mouth left you unable to form much of a sentence. max liked when you looked at him, below him. less than.

"danny won't pass you around, but i bet every head principal got a taste of you." max said, "i be you started with the best and worked your way down." he gripped onto your hair tighter, "whored yourself out for a good contract."

you whimpered, his demeaning words made you cunt tighten around daniel's cock. you were a good driver! you knew that! you came in second and these two were acting like you has the worst record in modern f1!

daniel smirked as he groped your ass cheek, threatening to bruise the skin with his grasp, "while i would agree with you." he licked his lips, "she had actually never had sex before we started to mess around. it only started because she just got so fuckin' turned on after races. taught her everything i could."

max's expression looked surprise, "oh.." he looked down at you once more, "seems you've been a good girl for daniel. i'm surprised, given that mouth of yours. but i guess you just need something to occupy it."

you whined as you felt daniel's cock deep in you. you were being fucked both ways. the princess of ferrari made a mess of. you held onto max's bare thighs and let out a small whimper as they continued their motions against you.

daniel seduced you early on with that laid back attitude, but the more he unwrapped about you. the more he knew that you were just a little slut waiting to happen. you had been a good girl your entire life and now handed a lot of freedom and piles of cash, you needed someone to reign you in.

thankfully daniel liked to keep his favourite rival on a short leash.

"i think after tonight, she'll be a little more gentle on the track." daniel pushed you further into the bed, which made max's cock hit past where your gag reflex used to be.

you felt raw all over, there were a few stray tears in your eyes. but yet it all excited you. letting these two enact their wrath over your second placement.

"she better be." max replied.

the two of them continued to fuck you and you were subject for wave after wave of pleasure. you felt sore all over. daniel's cock rearranging your guts while max's cock was cutting off proper air circulation.

depraved nonsense.

"prettier when she's quiet." daniel mentioned.

max chuckled in response, his cheeks stained pink, "of course she's greedy enough for two cocks."

daniel was the first to finished, he quickly pulled out and jerked off on your back before he finished all over your skin. covering your lower back in pearly white cum. you groaned at the feeling of it across your back, the mess that was made.

"don't cum until our guest finishes. it's called being polite, princess" he said, his voice hot in your lust ridden head.

you mouth on max was sloppy, the driver made sure that you were taking it all the way to the base. and when he was close to finishing, he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock until he made a total mess. letting cum land across your cheeks and up into your hair.

max rested against the headboard and looked at the mess he made. if only he had his phone.

"she's something else. if only she brought that energy to every race." daniel chuckled.

you whimpered and tried not to get cum all over the hotel sheets. the embarrassment of house keeping finding it made you want to die. but you weren't covered in cum for long. soon you were fed the cum all over your face and back by the men who put it all over you.

their fingers shoved in your mouth as you whined. their digits dragged across your teeth and the inside of your cheek. they made sure to get the seed all over your tongue so you'd taste them for the next few hours.

number forty-seven for ferrari was a good driver, but an even better cum slut.

you woke up in the morning rested against daniel's chest. while that felt familiar and all. there was no way both of his arms were wrapped around your waist like that.

you lifted your head and saw max holding you from behind. the previous night came back to you and you tried to move. but max's arms tightened around you.

"where are you going, princess? we're not done." max's sleepy voice could be heard.

daniel's eyes slightly opened before he pressed your head back to his chest. he held you there for a moment and added, "you're not getting away that easily."

your eyes went wide for a moment. the princess of ferrari had fallen into the jaws of the f1's most ferocious predators. you laid there for a moment, your hand across daniel's chest. you swallowed, there was no where you could hide that daniel and max wouldn't find you.

daniel gripped the back of your head for a moment. he believed in sharing with his good friend max verstappen. didn't matter if it was a slice of pizza, an extra euro for a vending machine, or the princess he had meticulously trained. <3

677 notes · View notes

renjunphile · 6 months ago

Text

freedom ain't nothing but missing you ☆ jung sungchan

ᯓ★ WORD COUNT: 13.6k

ᯓ★ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader

ᯓ★ TAGS & WARNINGS: college!au, second chance romance, college antics - partying, drinking, brief mentions of vomiting, reader has mad commitment issues you wanna punch her in the face, pining

ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS: the last time you saw him was when you looked over your shoulder at his weeping figure one last time at the airport. four seasons have passed and your heart tightens at the sight of his smiling face, wishing it was directed at you.

ᯓ★ NOTES: what would a renjunphile fic be without a second chance romance element ! sorry it's my favourite trope i can never let go of it :') all my stories are really the same now ! also me *handshake* using aespa members as side characters lol at the start of story, y/n and hyung line are going into 4th year, sohee and seunghan into 3rd year and anton into 2nd year.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You hear your best friend's voice before you see her. If you had just looked a little more to the left, you would've spotted her immediately anyway as she waved a large piece of pink card-stock with your name displayed in a glittery explosion.

"Y/N! Over here!" she cooed at you loudly from behind the barrier, "Y/N!!!"

You quickly weave around the other passengers as expertly as you could with your trolley of bags, but Minjeong is quick to meet you at the exit. She drops the sign onto your cluster of suitcases and wraps her arms around your neck, squealing into your ear with glee.

"I missed you too, Jeong," you giggled at her embrace, "I told you that you didn't have to get me!"

She scoffed at you as she pulled away, "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't welcome you back home after a year away! You said your parents couldn't come and meet you, so I came!"

You think back to your conversation just before you got on the god-awful long flight with her, recalling how your parents thought it was too far for them to drive up from your hometown when they were already coming the week after for your birthday.

"Thanks babe," you thanked her sincerely, bumping your hip against hers while the two of you began to push the cart together. You couldn't believe that you were able to pack your whole life in just two large suitcases and one small one, "By the way, how are we getting back into the city?"

Minjeong didn't drive; she'd rather walk to her destination in the wind, snow, hail or storm than learn how to get behind the wheel. She was a self proclaimed "passenger princess", which you admired and envied from the way your friends (including her) used you like their own personal taxi service when you had your car. Sadly for your friends, you were not hesitant when it came to selling your car at the end of your second year of university, just weeks before you packed up your life and moved to New York for the new school year. While you sometimes missed your slightly beat up Hyundai on the days that you had to get on the subway with arms full of groceries, you couldn't justify the purchase of a car again for your final year of university.

"I assisted the help of a special someone," Minjeong winked at you happily, watching your face contort in horror immediately, "Wait, no. Not that one. I promise."

You let out a sigh of relief that you didn't even know you were holding back as you cramped together in the car park's elevator. There were many people you haven't seen in a year. There were many people you've missed and wished to see. But you didn't think you could face him right now, at this very second.

"Who is it?" you prodded curiously, but she just gave you an innocent smile and pushed the cart out of the elevator and towards a shiny car about 30 steps from the doors

You couldn't make out the figure sat in the driver's seat, no matter how you craned your head until he got out and faced you straight on.

"Chanyoung!" you gasped in surprise, welcoming him in a tight hug, "Since when did you learn how to drive?"

"Just this year, noona. Welcome home!" he chuckled from above you. You wondered if he grew any more since the last time you saw him, cause it definitely felt like it.

Chanyoung was Minjeong's little cousin that began his studies at your university as you were leaving. Despite that, he grew to be a familiar presence as he lived nearby and always dropped by the apartment you shared with his cousin. He was truly one of your favourite people since he was so sweet and caring.

Before you could finish your greetings with Chanyoung, Minjeong had already loaded your (very heavy) bags into the trunk of Chanyoung's new car and had collapsed in the back seat, "Let's go guys. I'm sure Y/N's tired, but you can sit in the front."

Without another word, she dropped her head to the window and began to doze off. You clambered into the front seat and gave Chanyoung a thumbs up to head out.

"How was your first year at university, 'Ton?" you asked.

"Super good, actually. It was really helpful to know all of your friends before I entered so I never felt alone or lost or anything," he recounted the times that you missed, "By the way, thank you for letting me stay in your room. My first year definitely wouldn't be the same if I still lived at home."

You shared a two-bedroom apartment with Minjeong just off campus during your second year at university after meeting her on the first day of first year and becoming fast friends. You had warned her that you probably would have to find a temporary replacement while you were halfway across the world, but when word got out to her little cousin, he begged to take over your room while you were gone. Since he lived in Seoul already, his parents weren't very willing to let him test his luck and go into dorms with a stranger, but they were much more open to letting him live with his older and allegedly more responsible older cousin until he found friends to live with for the next year.

"No worries; I'd rather it was you than a stranger," you shrugged, "Who are you living with again?"

"Sohee and Seunghan," he tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the song quietly playing on the radio, "You know them, right?"

Your heart squeezed again at the thought of the boys you got to know in the year before you left, "Yeah, a bit. Haven't spoken to them in a long time, though. I hope it's not awkward to see everyone again, otherwise I'll just lock myself in my room until I graduate."

"Everyone misses you, noona," Anton assured you softly, "I know that for sure."

You opened your mouth to say what your heart desired, but closed it again hesitantly as your brain came to the rescue of your emotions. Anton flashed a look at you from the driver's seat, but chose not to comment when he saw the conflicted expression on your face.

"Tell me about your time in New York," his soft voice pulled you gently out of the mess that was unravelling in your head.

You gave him a small, knowing smile and began recounting your favourite memories and your life in the city that never sleeps.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Around 4PM, you waved your parents away as they pulled out from the car park under your apartment complex. They had a pretty long drive back to your hometown with work early the next day, but you were grateful they made the drive up in the morning to celebrate your birthday with you. You had taken them to your previous favourite Italian restaurant for lunch, but after tasting more authentic cuisine in New York in the predominantly Italian neighbourhoods, you weren't sure if the restaurant was as good as you remembered it to be. Still, you enjoyed the lunch and catching up with your parents with what had happened in the last 6 months since they came to visit you abroad. With a hug and a kiss goodbye, they were driving away from you once again.

When you returned back upstairs to your apartment, Minjeong was waiting for you patiently on the couch with her legs and arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" you groaned in anticipation.

"I picked out an outfit for you while you were out. It's on the bed. Get ready," she grinned, clapping her hands together, "We have dinner plans. Meet back here in an hour and a half."

"That's really not necessary, Jeong," you pleaded, but she just turned her nose up at you, reiterating her instructions.

To be honest, you had planned to spend the rest of your birthday cuddled up on the couch with your best friend, probably watching a chick-flick or a horror or both. She stomped away to her room and you fearfully tiptoed to yours. Knowing her, she would have picked out something a bit more showy than you would like.

However, you were pleasantly surprised at the dress laid out on your bed, with a note in her handwriting. It wasn't something she picked out of your closet- it was a dress she had bought for you. It was a flowing mini dress with ruffles extending from the skirt and a corset bodice you knew would flatter you. You sent her a grateful text and began to freshen up your hair and makeup from your morning outfit.

From your outfit, you guessed it would be in a sit-down restaurant that was more refined than a bbq restaurant whose smoke would cling to your hair, skin and clothes for days. However, knowing Minjeong, you couldn't put anything past her. After all, she was the one that convinced you to drink soju with her at a stall on the side of a dirt road in your floor length silk dresses after your first year ball. An hour and a half later, you had curled and then re-curled your hair, did your eyeliner twice and marvelled at how the light pink dress your best friend bought you fit you like a glove. When you heard Minjeong calling out your name, you were finishing buckling the heeled Mary Janes that you loved and made sure that everything you could need for the night was in your purse.

In the week you had been back in Seoul, all you had done was unpack your suitcases and make the room feel like yours again. School wasn't starting for another week, so all the friends that you tried to meet up with told you that they were still in their hometowns, due to come a few days before the fall semester began.

"Urgh, I knew it would look amazing on you!" Minjeong analysed you in awe. Trust the fashion design and marketing major to have an eye for these types of things.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" you eyed her suspiciously as she looped her arm around yours and dragged you out of your shared apartment.

"You can find out when we get there," Minjeong tapped on her phone, "The taxi's outside, quick!"

The destination set for the taxi was somewhere you weren't familiar with. The street name definitely didn't ring a bell. Perhaps a new restaurant had opened in that area while you were gone and Minjeong was just trying to catch you up to the city again.

Speaking of the girl beside you, she spent the whole ride with her eyebrows furrowed together as she furiously tapped away on her phone. You wouldn't say that you were a particularly nosy person (lie), but her privacy screen protector made it impossible for you to see who she was texting. It was probably Heeseung anyway- her on-again, off-again boyfriend of four years, but more like two.

"Are you guys fighting again?" you teased.

"Huh?" she looked up at you in confusion and her face flashed with recognition, "Yeah, yeah. It's nothing. Don't worry, but look we're basically here."

Apparently 'here' meant on the street that was lined by endless blocks of high rise flats and a few convenience stores dotted about.

"Did you make me dress up to eat ramen at a GS25?" you prodded your finger in the direction of the store.

Minjeong laughed heartily, "No silly! I made you dress up to eat ramen at a 7/11!" she pointed at the stripy neon sign at the opposite end of the street. She captured your arm in hers once more, tugging to make you walk with her, "Just trust me. It's the hottest place in town."

You don't think that the hottest place in town was Block 7 of this high rise complex, but you say nothing as she buzzed for apartment 08 and caught the lift up to the 4th floor. Minjeong was known to find all the hottest spots in town, so you really try to keep it to yourself as she knocked on the door that looked far too much like an apartment door, including the mail next to the door mat.

She didn't even wait for someone to answer, just pushed down on the handle and nudged for you to enter into the darkness.

"Surprise!"

You clasped a hand over your mouth as light flooded the room and a group of about 20 people screamed at you. From behind you, Minjeong was cheering, pushing you further into what now seemed to be an apartment instead of a restaurant. With 20 pairs of eyes staring at you all at once, it took you a few seconds to shake yourself out of the shock and recognise anyone. The place was decorated with banners and balloons of your favourite colours, with steaming food on the dining table in the corner of the room.

"Happy birthday! Welcome home!" Karina, Yizhuo and Giselle were the first to crush you ina hug.

"We're sorry we declined your plans to hang out," Yizhuo pouted, "We thought we would give away the surprise that Jeong planned if we saw you."

You waved a dismissive hand at your younger friend, "It's okay. This is so sweet of you guys!" You felt Minjeong join the embrace.

"We thought you deserved it since we didn't get to spend your birthday with you last year," Giselle added on as the group pulled away from you.

Last year, you had spent your birthday alone, wandering around New York City for the first time and procuring free birthday goods from all the establishments that offered it.

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" you heard a deeper voice coo at you as you were pulled away from your girls. You were suddenly face to face with one of your closer guy friends from before.

"Eunseok!" you accepted his side hug, "Hi!"

"Welcome home! We all missed you so much," at his words, you dart your eyes around the room and find 5 boys hiding behind Eunseok's tall figure. They each hug you one by one, ending with Chanyoung who gives you the cheekiest grin.

"Welcome to our apartment," he grinned proudly, gesturing at himself, Sohee and Seunghan.

"Where'd you get all this money from, huh? I should've charged you more rent," you teased, eyeing the modern, open-plan space. The floor to ceiling windows on one wall of the room with a view over the river really sold you on the idea that this was an expensive apartment.

"You can throw as many parties as you like here," Shotaro giggled, "We know we're going to!"

"Yeah, whose birthday is it next?" Wonbin pondered.

"Oh! It's-" Eunseok smacked Sohee in the stomach before he could finish his words, laughing nervously.

The 6 boys in front of you watched in despair as your smile fell ever so slightly before you recovered it again.

"I'll go say hi to everyone else," you murmured softly, catching Wonbin's regretful face.

"Y/N, he's-"

"It's okay, Bin," you smiled softly, ignoring the pounding in your heart and head, "I wouldn't have expected him to come. He probably hates me, right?"

You turned around without letting any of the boys say another word, joining your group of friends from your dance club. While your friendship with them was something you treasured deeply, you fell out of touch with them in your year abroad quite quickly. You didn't put much thought into the people that did or didn't keep in contact, considering you were focused on making friends and trying to live in the moment abroad. Besides, you were coming back anyway. What's a year in the grand scheme of things?

Your heart panged at that thought, but you tried to push it away as Jisung tackled you in a tight hug. Ryujin and Yeji had to physically peel the towering kid away from you as you dove into conversation about what you had spent the last year doing.

As the conversation came to an end, your eyes fell on the 6 boys stood around in a circle, whispering hushedly and stealing quick glances at you. When you caught Seunghan's eye, he just chuckled nervously and dismissed you, but the sight of them, incomplete, caused your heart to tense up.

All the most important people in your university life was in this room. All, except one.

"Jeong, I'm just gonna catch some air. Just quickly," you tapped your best friend on the back, just before waving and greeting her potentially current boyfriend Heeseung.

"Oh, I'll come with!" she began to untangle herself from his embrace, but you just clicked your teeth and shook your head.

"No, it's okay. I can go alone; I'll be quick. Just buzz me up when I ring?" you requested. She gave you an unsure look, but settled back into Heeseung's form.

Ignoring the stares on your back, you ran down the two flights of stairs and pushed open the door to outside. Since it was the start of fall and 6pm, the sun was beginning to go down. The sky wasn't yet pink and purple, but instead glowing an ethereal gold, bathing you in light rays. You fiddled with the phone in your hand, grasping it tightly as you debated what to do. His contact was staring up at you, almost taunting you to do something with it. Call it? Message it? Delete it?

Your finger hovered over the phone symbol. Surely he'd want to hear from you, right? The way you ended things wasn't... satisfactory. It gave neither of you closure. You needed to speak to him, right?

Fuck it, you think to yourself. It's your birthday. You can do whatever you like. As you pressed the call button, you shakily lifted the phone up to your ears, counting the rings.

Ring ring, ring ring, ring-

"Y/N?" his voice is familiar, soothing the nerves that plagued you at the thought of him letting your call go unanswered.

"Sungchan," you began hesitantly, "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm uh- I'm back in Seoul."

"Y/N," he repeated, making you aware of the sounds of his feet hitting the pavement through the phone and his laboured, shaky breaths.

"Shit, are you busy? Am I interrupting something?" your stomach folded in on itself as you realised he didn't answer your statement. He was probably at the gym- Minjeong told you he'd taken that up in your absence.

"Y/N," he breathed out again, the patters of his feet coming to a stop, "Look up."

You tore your eyes away from your feet- the only thing that was distracting you from internalising too hard that you were calling your kind-of ex-boyfriend.

As you lifted your eyes up, a tall figure came into view across the street from you. Sungchan was stood panting, one hand holding his phone up to his ear and the other holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Sungchan?" the call dropped as the figure took a step into the street, hastily running over to stop just shy from you.

"I don't hate you," it's the first time you're hearing his voice in one year, "The boys- they said that you said- I wanted to come, but I didn't know if you wanted me here."

He's trying to maintain eye contact, but he's clutching the flowers to his chest as he pants. You were at ease enough to chuckle, "Sungchan, did you run here?"

In this light, his eyes shined and sparkled. You've missed looking into them and getting lost all night in his gaze. You missed the way he would look at you like you were the most precious thing on earth to him.

He flashed you a toothy smile, "Mhm, didn't want to make you wonder. Just wanted to tell you that."

"A text would've sufficed."

He analysed your expression and took one large step back, "Ah, am I reading this wrong? Did you not want me to come?"

You took one step forward, "I'm sorry I didn't call as soon as I got back."

Relief flooded Sungchan's whole body as he stretched his arm to offer the bouquet to you, "It's whatever. Happy birthday, Y/N."

"Thanks, Sungchan," you smiled sincerely, "Do you want to head up now together? I'm kind of hungry and I think there's pizza."

"Yeah, sure!" his face is practically lit up at your invitation, but he hesitated to follow you, "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you," he whispered shyly, "Just so you know."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You met Sungchan three weeks into your first year of university. Minjeong's boyfriend Heeseung had joined the soccer team in the first week and their first game came around quickly. The two of you were like two peas in a pod, bundled up together in matching scarves bearing your university's colours and logo, shivering on the school's bleachers.

Your friend's eyes were trained on her boyfriend from home, but you had the lucky status of being able to cast your eyes on each player and make your judgement. The game had been going on for about 30 minutes with your school being 2-0 up. Both goals had been scored by the team's #23, a scrawny tall boy whose name you could just about make out from your distance.

"Jung's pretty good," you hummed to your friend.

"#23? His name's Sungchan, I think. Hee says he's really nice. Want me to get you two acquainted?" Minjeong wiggled her eyebrows at you, but you rolled your eyes.

You were determined to find love as naturally as possible at university. Back home, you'd been on a few first days with a few guys set up through your friends, but they were all the same to you- not cute enough, not interesting enough. You hadn't been desperate to get into a relationship, especially knowing that you were going to apply to spend your third year abroad if you kept your grades up. But when Sungchan slid in to the seat beside yours for your shared lecture meeting your GenEd requirements, you had lost all semblance of that.

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" he had offered his hand out to you, "I'm Sungchan. I've seen you around with Heeseung's girlfriend and I've seen you in this lecture a few times."

You had taken his hand in yours, gripping firmly and giving him a shy smile, "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you,"

When he continued to sit beside you for another few weeks, asking you questions in hushed whispers and explaining concepts to you when you looked lost, you said nothing. When he started asking if you wanted to study in the library together in your two hour gap after your shared lecture, you said nothing. When library study-seshes turned into studying at a cafe where he'd buy you a drink, you said nothing. When that turned to just two hours of the two of you chatting and getting to know all about each other's lives with your laptops abandoned on the table, you said nothing.

It then turned into butterflies slowly erupting in your stomach as his face lit up the second he saw you in the theatre. It turned into your heart beating a little faster whenever his hand brushed against yours on the walk to the café you now frequented with him. It turned into finding comfort in him as he slowly began introducing you to his best friends, who would tease you endlessly. It turned into nervous giggles and pink cheeks as you spent the whole fall and winter denying anything was going on with you and Jung Sungchan.

When spring of your freshman year began to roll in, Sungchan had mustered up the courage to take your hand in his whenever your fingers did graze each other on the walks. Whenever you'd look up at him to question it, he'd just smile slyly and look off into the distance, quickly changing the topic before you could address it.

Spring break had you realising how much of a presence he was in your life. Walking through the parks of your hometown felt melancholy without him by your side. Studying at a cafe alone was productive, but you would miss the way that every time you looked up from your screen, he'd already be staring back at you, a soft smile permanently etched on his face.

Cherry blossom season was your favourite time of the year. So when you returned to your campus and found out the main square was lined with these bloomed trees, you had dragged Sungchan there immediately, even if he had just arrived from his hometown.

The joy in your eyes must have been so evident, reflecting back in his eyes as sparkles. When Sungchan had placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you bouncing, and then leaned his head down closer to yours, you didn't stop it. You had long been used to the way he made your heart race. It was a welcome feeling as he softly planted his lips on yours for the first time under the falling petals.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"Y/N," the sharp voice plucked you from your daydream, a bag making a thud on the wooden table, "What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" your eyes focused in on Karina taking a seat in front of you at the café, "Nothing, nothing. Did you just have class?"

"My class ended early and I was just walking to my next class in 15, but I saw you through the window looking all sad and aloof," she explained, her eyebrows drawn together in worry, "Are you okay, girl?"

You met Karina with Minjeong at a club in the first week of your freshman year. She had been throwing up in the toilet with the door open and no one holding her hair, so Minjeong did that while you rubbed her back and cooed reassuring words. After confessing that she was getting drunk because she had just broken up with her high school boyfriend, the two of you captured her in your little group.

"It's just weird being back," you admitted.

She pouted at you sadly, "Aw, don't tell me you like your New York friends better than us?"

"No!" you squealed, laughing, "It's not that. I love you guys. It's just weird being back with Sungchan."

Her eyes morphed into a mix between empathy and sympathy, "Aw, babe. I'm sorry; I know it's weird. Whenever I meet my friends back home, I get a weird feeling seeing my ex there too. I imagine it must be worse for you since you ended on better terms than me and Mark did. It must be confusing, huh?"

Out of all your friends, Karina was the best one to be having this conversation with. While you loved Minjeong more than anything in the world, she was famous for breaking up with her boyfriend for random spats, but calling him and asking to get back together the very next moment she missed him. Absolutely no sense of longing in that department.

"I just don't know how I should act around him. Do we just go back to being friends like in first year? Should I pursue him again? Why does it feel like we're strangers to each other?"

During your party, you had thought Sungchan would stay by your side, but he quickly excused himself to join his friends and only gave you reluctant smiles through the night. Where had all the confidence disappeared to?

You saw him one more time in the two weeks after your party at the library. Eunseok had booked a large private study room at the library and texted you to come. Sungchan was already there when you came, his head stuck in a textbook. Other than shooting you a greeting and sliding the box of cookies in your direction, you got nothing else from him in three hours.

"You just need to get the worst of it over and talk to him. He must be just as confused as you are, to be honest," Karina sighed.

"He hasn't found someone else, right?" you asked reluctantly. Even if he had, it would have been your own fault anyway after the way you left him for dust at the airport.

Karina scoffed and rolled her eyes, "The only thing he's found in the past year is the gym. Taro says he's gone crazy. You know- post break-up glow up? He's become quite the heartbreaker, actually. All these girls started to notice him, but he never gives any of them the time of day."

You fight the scowl threatening to display on your face, "Oh, really?"

"Please, Y/N, he was always going to wait for you. I'd never seen a man so down bad and I know Heeseung." she scrunched up her face at the thought. Heeseung was famously untouchable by the girls at university, no matter how much they threw themselves at the football captain. Anyone else would be embarrassed by getting broken up with by their girlfriend every couple of months, but Heeseung always took it with stride and came crawling back with on his hands and knees towards her every time.

"Hm, you're wrong. I don't think anyone can beat that man," the memory of him scoring a hat-trick in the regional final with the words 'Take me back, Minjeong' written on his undershirt that he flashed while he celebrated the last goal cemented his position of number 1 loverboy in your mind.

"Potentially, but Sungchan drove four hours overnight to your hometown when your pet hamster died to comfort you in the summer between first and second year," Karina reminded you, "He charmed your strict parents so hard that by the time the night came, they let him stay in your room with you!"

"He brought expensive melons," you rolled your eyes, "I don't even know where he got those from at 2 in the morning."

"Exactly. Even I wouldn't gift my in-laws that expensive of a fruit no matter how much I wanted to impress them," she countered, "Just talk to Sungchan, I beg. I don't want to watch you go through the whole will they-won't they song and dance of first year again. I gotta go to class, but text him now, yeah?"

You dumbly nodded at her instruction, watching her race out of the cafe and waving goodbye through the large window. Everyone always teased you about how much Sungchan seemed to like you. They never knew that you were equally as smitten.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You made it to the café before Sungchan. Unfortunately, that just gave you more time to panic and stress over what you were going to say to him after all this time. Your chocolate frappe and his iced americano sat in front of you, slowly melting in the unrelenting sun. You asked to meet at 1 and there was still 5 minutes 'til then, but Sungchan had the habit of being early. That was one thing he passed down to you.

"Y/N," Sungchan gave you a gentle smile as he slid into the seat across you. It was hard to meet his eye, but you held eye contact for as long as you could (not very long) before you tore your eyes away and slid his drink over to him. He thanked you sincerely and took a sip, giving you the chance to speak first.

"Thanks for meeting me, Sungchan," you began nervously, "I know it's been, um, confusing recently- at least for me. I just wanted to catch up and see where we are or get some closure, I guess. I feel like you deserve more of an explanation than what I was able to give you."

In an instant, you're transported back to one week before your flight to New York in the comfort of his bed. You had tearfully explained how hard you thought it was going to be to do long distance even when you had spent a better part of the situationship deluding yourself and each other that it would work out not matter what.

You don't think you could ever forget the look of heartbreak plastered on his face as you spilled your worries to him that night. You don't think you'd ever forgive yourself for making his body shake with sobs, pleading you to think about it again.

That's why it's hard to face him right now- because of all the shame and guilt.

"To be honest, Y/N, you told me before we got involved that you were doing your year abroad and that you didn't think it would be in the best interest of either of us to be in a new relationship by the time you left," Sungchan hummed, swirling his straw in the ice of his drink.

Suddenly, it's a year and a half earlier in your head as you and Sungchan celebrated and 'not really 1 year anniversary' because you two refused to label yourselves as a couple despite functioning identically to one. You remembered the cake, the flowers, the candles that you blew out together.

"I feel like I led you on," you admitted.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "I don't feel that way. You didn't want to get into a relationship, but I kept pursuing you anyway until you fell in- until you liked me," he coughed.

Your demeanour softened as the words slip from his mouth. When Sungchan tried to utter those three words to you at the airport for the first time and you stopped him before you could, you instantly knew you were making a mistake. But by the time you had gotten through security and settled yourself at your gate, you had manipulated yourself to think otherwise.

"Stop being so nice about it, Sungchan. I did you so wrong," you frowned deeply at him, picking at your nails in nerves. Your heart and stomach honestly ached in displeasure every time you thought about what happened.

"We made choices, and I guess we're better people now for it," Sungchan returned a tight-lipped smile, turning his head to stare out of the window and into the street.

When you left, Sungchan was shy and awkward with his limbs flying all over the place and never seeming like he had control over them. His hair fell around his eyes in an adorable cut and it would take him a while to muster up the courage to look anyone in the eye. That wasn't to say he wasn't a friendly and amazing guy- just one that had to warm up to you.

The Sungchan you returned to walked with confidence and seemed like he was now sure of himself. He kept his head up, initiated conversations with people and just moved through life more freely. You can't help but think that you were the one thing holding him back.

You didn't know what to reply with. Were you really better off? You had spent the past year trying to enjoy your life abroad, but grovelling with guilt for the life back home that you left.

Before you can open your mouth, someone beats you to it.

"Channie?"

The affectionate nickname falling from another person's mouth instantly conjures a bitter taste in your mouth. Your heads snap towards the guest standing at the edge of the table, smiling down at the man in front of you.

"Ah, I knew it was you," she beamed brightly, "Haven't had the chance to talk to you- how was your summer?"

Sungchan's eyes flickered to you so quick that you almost didn't catch it. You could tell he was hesitant in his reply, "It was good, Jiyoon. How was yours?"

She clapped her hands a little and nearly let out a squeal, "Awesome! Went to that mountain you recommended climbing! You're playing at the game tomorrow, right?"

Game? Oh, he was still on the soccer team, of course.

"Yeah," his grin was lopsided and awkward as he turned to you, "Um, Jiyoon, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jiyoon. We met in class last year."

"Nice to meet you," she extended a hand down to you, which you reluctantly shook with a terse smile. You could practically feel the uncertainty and jealousy bubbling in the pits of your stomach as she continued, "Me and Channie were seat mates in our lectures last year! It's such a shame we don't share any this year."

The feeling is so unfamiliar that it makes you uncomfortable seeing the way she grinned and looked at him. He used to look at you like that too- the longing and the pining in the gaze when you wouldn't give into him. It was clear they weren't dating, but it felt like there was something more.

"Nice to meet you too," you clutched your drink tight in your hand as you picked up your bag, "I actually have to run somewhere so why don't you take a seat and catch up? Seems like it's due. Bye Sungchan."

In your rush away from the table, Sungchan caught your wrist again, "Y/N, don't-"

Once again, you'll never forget the face of heartbreak written all over his face as you pulled your wrist away with a sigh, "Thanks for speaking to me, Sungchan. Good luck for tomorrow."

You don't dare look back as the bubbly Jiyoon slid into the chair you were once occupying.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Minjeong has her arms crossed in your doorway with a pointed look directed at you.

"Why aren't you ready?" she squinted her eyes menacingly at your slumbering position on the bed, "We're going to be late! You're lucky I asked Sunghoon to save us two seats."

You pulled the covers over your head, "I'm not going. Leave without me."

The little pitter-patter of her footsteps on your hardwood floors echoes before she ripped the sheets away from you, "And why is that?"

You made grabby-hands at the duvet, but she tossed it behind her. You gave her your best innocent look and produced a cough, "I'm sick?"

Minjeong scoffed loudly and tugged on your arm, "I'm not taking no for an answer, missy. This is your final first game of the season! And we're playing our rival team, so show some school spirit."

"But 'Jeong," you whined in protest as she threw open your wardrobe and began to search for your school merch.

"You don't have to see him if you don't want to," she sighed empathetically, "We'll run away as soon as it's done, but you loved school football games, right?"

It's about the time you realised that Minjeong wasn't going to let up on her insisting, so you slipped on the crop top and jacket with your school's logos and shimmied into the skirt she was making you wear, despite the temperature outside. Arm in arm, but in measured silence, the two of you fast-walked to the football arena that was only 15 minutes from your house. Thankfully the game hadn't yet started when you two clambered into the seats between Sunghoon, Heeseung's friend, and Anton.

"It's nice to see you again, Y/N!" Sunghoon grinned, taking you into a hug, "Did you miss Korea while you were gone?"

"Of course, but it was nice to experience a new culture for a bit," you replied, trying your hardest to keep your eyes off the pitch where the teams were getting into their positions, "How's the skating?"

"I won college nationals this year," he said proudly, to which you clapped and congratulated him. He was truly one of the school's pride and joy, but he didn't want to take it any further than collegiate sport, "Anyway, are you going to the after-party later? It's at the Rho Zeta house."

Minjeong's face planted into your right shoulder, "We are!"

"Jeong! You said we're leaving straight after the game!" you protested, turning your body to face her's.

"Yeah, to the party," she cackled, slapping an arm around her cousin's shoulders, "Tell her, Chanyoung. We're going to the party, right?"

His eyes suddenly turned pleading and you knew you were doomed for, "C'mon, Y/N! It's the first party of the year win or lose so you have to come."

Sunghoon looked at you with expectant eyes too and you honestly believed they were about three seconds away from begging on their knees when you rolled your eyes and dismissed them. Minjeong took this as a win and began to cheer, while also redirecting your attention back to the game in front of you.

When you were dating/not-dating, you used to come to every one of Sungchan's games wearing his jersey rain or shine. That's how you gained the status of being one of the most notorious couples in the grade. You didn't know why, but you were glad to see that no other girl was sporting his name and number on their back from what you could see. They weren't a famous team; they didn't sell jerseys with the players' names in the school store, so you were a little bit relieved to realise Sungchan wasn't giving out his jerseys to girls left, right and centre in your absence.

What was evident though, was the rambunctious screaming every time the ball fell at his feet. He was one of the team's star players along with Heeseung and Lee Minho, so you weren't surprised. However, the cheering had definitely stepped up a notch ever since he checked himself into the gym while you were gone.

The game passed by pretty quickly. Both defences were very good, so there weren't many goals scored. Heeseung had scored two both assisted by Sungchan and the other team had done the same. Though the game ended in a eventful tie, the crowd was still buzzing with pride and school spirit. Through the streets around the arena and the campus, you could hear them chanting some school songs.

"Are we meeting Heeseung there?" you asked Minjeong curiously as you walked together towards Greek row. Sunghoon had disappeared after the win to find some of his friends before the party, meanwhile Chanyoung was whisked away by Seunghan into the crowd

"Yeah, they'll be a while before they get to the house, I think. I know I was heavy persuading you earlier, but you're actually fine with coming to the party, right? You can tell me if not," her eyebrows are stitched together in worry, but you just link arms again and continued walking.

"It'll be nice to go out and do my normal things," you reassured her.

The Rho Zeta house was one that was very familiar to you. It was a house you had spent many a nights in during your second year when Sungchan lived at his frat house. You wondered if he stayed there or moved out with his friends.

There's some rushing freshmen on the door duty and you were let in swiftly when Minjeong uttered your names. Though Heeseung was a member of a different fraternity, the friends and partners of the football team were always invited to the post-game ragers. Making your way down to the basement where most people chose to spend their time, you waved to Eunseok in the kitchen making cocktails.

A fair few spectators had already made it to the party after the game finished, knocking back their third, fourth or fifth beer or beverage of choice already. When Wonbin pressed a shot into your hand and clinked it with the one in his, you had no choice but to chug it down with a grimace. Before you knew it, Eunseok was tipping back a cup of mojito down your throat and you and Minjeong were doing shots of tequila with your arms intertwined.

The Rho Zeta basement was expansive, but very busy. There were people playing beer pong in one corner (Sohee was losing badly to a grinning Anton) meanwhile sober monitor Shotaro was trying to pry the darts out of a drunk Seunghan's grip before he could try to throw them and potentially hurt someone. You swore that they kept those locked away in a cabinet during parties, but Seunghan was always a crafty guy.

Endless bodies swayed in the gaps of the basement to the rhythm of the music- the music being the mixes that Nu Sigma Tau alumni Johnny Suh was producing from his speakers in the far corner. He was truly a man stuck in his college days, but he always provided the best tunes. You had lost track of time early into the night before losing track of Minjeong completely when the football team arrived. You hid behind Johnny's equipment, making small (loud) talk with him about what he had been getting up to. In the corner of your eye, you had spotted Sungchan hovering in the crowds since he was probably a whole head taller than most of the attendees.

"I heard what happened to you and our bambi over there," Johnny uttered nonchalantly as he prodded at some buttons that you could never grasp the use of, "How's that working out?"

"It's the consequences of my own actions," you hummed sadly, "I've never regretted anything more."

"Does he know that?"

You flick your glance to the guy chatting with his best friend Eunseok by the wall, "I think I owe it to him to let him move on. There's so many girls interested in him since I left."

"And clearly he rejected all those girls if he came alone. I'm banishing you from my booth, so go talk to him." Johnny cooed at you before pushing you lightly away and into the crowd with a wave.

After the fiasco that was the café and Jiyoon, you certainly weren't prepared to face Sungchan. What could you even say to him? That you were burning with jealousy that you couldn't help but run away?

Yizhuo and Giselle occupied your time for a little bit on the couches, but once the smell of sweaty party goers began to invade your senses even while getting progressively drunker, you dashed/stumbled up to the second floor living room that was always much more chilled out.

"Y/N!" Soobin cried out excitedly as you entered the large room. He was already reaching over to offer you a beer, which you took. Behind Soobin's tall stature, you don't even notice the people sat in a circle behind him, "We're playing truth or dare."

Soobin was one of your friends you made in a club you joined in your freshman year. You didn't speak to him very much over text, but the two of you always had a good time when seeing each other. He wrapped his large hand around your wrist and dragged you over to sit in the circle. You recognised a few familiar faces as you cast your eyes around, namely Karina and some of Heeseung's friends, but your heart dropped when you saw Sungchan and Jiyoon sat cross-legged next to each other a few spaces to right of Soobin.

Even in your state, you weren't so much of a masochist to stay and watch. Leaning over to Soobin's ear, you whispered, "Shit Bin, I think I'm gonna sit this one out."

"No," he whined like a baby, "I haven't seen you in a year, so stay!"

His protest was so loud that it called the attention of some of your other friends who all drunkenly pouted and pleaded for you to stay. Some guy who you recognised as Sunwoo reached over the space in the middle and spun the bottle. You kept your eyes trained on it as spun around and around, praying it wouldn't land on you. A sigh of relief left your mouth as it fell on Chaerin, who quickly chose dare.

"Text your most recent ex and tell them that you miss them!" Sunwoo giggled through his drink.

As you nursed your own drink, you mirrored Chaerin's grimace and fought all your might to avoid looking at Sungchan. You would be horrified to have received that. Chaerin gingerly pulled out her phone and typed a few words before flashing her screen around the circle as proof. She then grabbed the bottle and spun it harshly.

"Jiwoo, truth or dare?" Chaerin taunted. Your eyes flashed to her figure momentarily as she giggled and chose dare as well.

"Kiss the person you'd most want to date."

You don't think you've ever felt such burning sadness as you watched Jiwoo quickly grab Sungchan's face and bring it down to hers for a quick peck. The grip on your bottle was nearly enough to smash the glass into a million pieces the way your heart was breaking.

It took everything in you not to get up and run away, especially when the alcohol in your bloodstream was making you feel your emotions ten times as strong. You couldn't make it about you- Sungchan didn't deserve that. The rest of the group's eyes had already turned to you after Jiwoo's kiss, considering that you and Sungchan never really kept it much of a secret. Even Karina was making 'are you okay?' eyes at you from across the circle. You simply gave her a subtle nod and a smile as Jiwoo spun the bottle too.

"You and Sungchan aren't back together?" Soobin dropped his face low to your ear.

"Does it look like we are, Soob?" you exhaled, watching Nayoung give Jay a drunk and joking lap dance.

"Shit," he breathed out under his breath, "Sorry I made you stay."

"It's okay. I should move on anyway, right?" you smiled assuringly at him. You don't think you've ever given such a fake smile in your life.

"Y/N," Soobin trailed off, trying to pry the bottle that you were sipping on away from your hands, "Should we go?"

"No, it's fine," you gritted out, pointing at the bottle spinning to direct his attention. Your heart dropped as it landed on you.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Jay mumbled.

You weren't going to risk it; Jay was known for giving batshit ideas, so you settled on, "Truth."

"How many people did you sleep with or kiss on your year abroad?" he smirked.

"Zero," you deadpanned instantly, "For both."

Jay pouted at your boring answer, but gestured for you to choose the next person. It landed on Yuri, who chose dare bravely. You were starting to dissociate a little, but managed to murmur some dare about giving her phone to Sunghoon and letting him post whatever on her story.

The game continued a while with you trying to focus as much as possible at burning a hole through the glass of your drink with Soobin asking you if you were okay every couple of minutes. It was hard not to turn your head and steal glances at Sungchan and Jiwoo, whose laugh reverberated through the room, your bones and then into your heart.

You were certain Jiwoo was a nice girl, but where did she come from? All your friends convinced you that Sungchan hadn't entertained anyone despite the newfound attention that you leaving brought to him and even his friends never mentioned anything when they would occasionally talk to you. Surely Jiwoo and Sungchan were close, right? Close enough for them to be recommending each other things to do in the summer and close enough for Jiwoo to quite literally kiss him in front of everyone.

"Sungchan, truth or dare?" an unfamiliar voice caused your head to slowly lift up.

"Dare," it's the first time you've heard his voice the whole game.

"Kiss the person you'd want to date in this room."

A light gasp escaped nearly everyone's lips as you examined the smirking player. You definitely didn't recognise him; maybe he was a freshman. His eyes were darting with a cheeky glint between Sungchan and Jiwoo, assuming that he was setting up a couple by echoing Chaerin's earlier dare for him.

"Taesan, choose a different dare," Karina's voice boomed as she directed laser eyes towards the boy. He instantly frowned.

"Why? It's fun!"

"Choose a different dare," Soobin repeated next to you.

In that moment, you wanted the world to just cave in and swallow you up whole. You didn't think that you could bare to watch your ex-boyfriend- the one who held your heart but the one whose heart you stomped all over- kiss another girl in a confession. Despite that, you were completely paralysed in your spot, cross legged and head having turned to Sungchan's direction.

At the same time that Karina began to get up and say, "Y/N, let's go downstairs,", Sungchan had pushed himself out of his seat under the watchful eyes of Jiwoo.

"Fuck it," he had laughed dryly.

Your vision changed in a moment's notice. Sungchan was staring straight into your eyes bearing the emotions of pleading. Pleading to ask you if what he was about to do was okay.

You think that you probably nodded unconsciously, because in an instant, Sungchan's plump lips found yours again for the first time in a year. They slotted perfectly in between your hesitant mouth, but like a reflex, your brain had finally connected to your body again and started moving against him.

Similar to the earlier gasps from all those who had known about your history together, the whole group had gasped and fell silent as they watched the scene unfold.

The kiss was not gentle at all. He moved against you harshly, desperately and his hands on your cheeks burned your skin, lighting a thousand flames inside you. Sungchan tasted a bit like the beer he was drinking, but also like the cherry lip balm that you had once bought for him and got him addicted to in the past. It caught you so off guard that you fell back onto your hands behind you, causing him to push deeper against you.

You were both panting when he finally pulled away.

"Y/N," he murmured lowly against your lips, "Let's go to my room."

You remembered getting up. You remembered his fingers interlacing between yours. You remembered practically running through the corridors to reach his familiar door at the end. You remembered Sungchan pressing you up against the wall inside his room and connecting his lips to your neck.

Then you don't remember anything after.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The next time your brain registers you're awake, there's a swirling in your stomach and something rising up your throat. In the lamp-lit glow of the seemingly strange room, you peeled the duvet off your sweating form and made a bee-line straight to the bathroom.

You didn't realise how you even knew there was a bathroom behind the door you had opened until a familiar hand was pulling your hair away from your face and rubbing your back as you emptied out the contents of your guts into the toilet.

"It's okay, baby," he cooed sweetly. The term of endearment flew over your head pretty much immediately, but your heart probably skipped a quick beat.

Tears brimmed at your lashes and threatened to spill as you hurled and hurled. How much had you had to drink?

"Sungchan?" you croaked out in between heaves.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here," he whispered into the dark, "You're in my room at the frat house."

Binge drinking wasn't a common reoccurrence of your freshman and sophomore days, but when you did, you always threw up in the middle of the night and became disorientated. You never knew where you were and how you got there.

When you finally finished throwing up, Sungchan had already tied your hair back with a tie he found on your wrist and had pulled you up against his body in the bathroom. With the lamp in his room on and the door open, you could make out his sleepy figure and messy hair in the mirror.

"Here, wash your face and brush your teeth," the toothbrush he handed you was old, but you recognised it as the one you kept in his room for the nights you would sleep over. Despite the banging headache and the questions floating around in your head, you managed to follow his instructions. There was no makeup left on your face from what you could tell, so someone must have taken a wipe to your face. You just splashed some water to refresh yourself and brushed your teeth to get the nasty taste out of your mouth.

Looking down, you were still in the skirt and college top from the party, but your socks and shoes had been replaced with fluffy socks that you loved to sleep in and all of your jewellery removed. Sungchan was waiting at the edge of his bed, eyes only half opened until you stepped back into the room again.

It looked the same as when you left, with a few pictures of you together removed in places. There were some weights in the corner too, but otherwise, it was a picture perfect reflection of before, as if time never passed.

"What happened? What am I doing here?" your throat burned from all the heaving you had been doing, but Sungchan passed you a water bottle and a pill, "All I remember was the game and you kissing me."

"We went to my room, but you passed out pretty quick," Sungchan recounted, "Sorry I kissed you. I slept on the floor, by the way."

You noticed the pillow and blanket missing from the bed. From the digital clock on Sungchan's desk, you could see it was still only 4am.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I'll catch a taxi home now," you looked around the room for your shoes, "Sorry for the vomit and stuff."

Sungchan rose to his feet, "Y/N, just stay. It's dangerous for you to leave at this time and you need to rest. It's okay. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep in Eunseok's room."

Although your brain was blaring alarm signals in your mind and telling you to get out of there before anything else tragic could happen, your heart belonged to the bed that you missed sharing with him.

You sighed heavily and crawled back under the covers. With your eyes closed, you bared your true feelings into the silent room, "Please stay."

"Okay," he hummed, walking over to the other side of the bed where you assumed that he set up the pillow and blanket.

"Can you sleep with me? On the bed?" your voice was so quiet and hesitant despite your state that Sungchan didn't know if he just conjured that in his imagination until you spoke again, "Please?"

You shuffled over closer to your side of the bed closer to the door. He slid in on his side, closer to the window. Your head was spinning even lying down and you could feel yourself slipping out of consciousness already as his body heat combined with yours to wrap you up in a comfortable and familiar sensation.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm lying. I'm not sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry that you had to see her kiss me though."

"Why?"

"I'd never want you to think that I want anyone else other than you."

Your awareness faded into nothingness as you felt Sungchan's hands slip in between yours under the sheets.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"Y/N? What the fuck happened last night? Karina texted me and said some shit went down upstairs and you disappeared with Sungchan?" Minjeong's voice was laced with worry as she rushed to the door the second you stepped through.

Although she looked as haggard as you, she was much more preoccupied about where you went after she handed you your 3rd mojito of the night. You winced at her volume, "My head hurts like shit, Jeong. And my heart too."

"Jay told me what happened. Are you okay?" Heeseung's voice was quieter as you entered the open plan living space. He was sat on your couch with a bowl of cereal in the space between his crossed legs and Minjeong's iPad playing some TV show on the coffee table.

"Y/N? Hello?" Minjeong waved in your face.

"I don't want to talk about it, guys," you groaned, "Some girl kissed him. He kissed me. We went to his room. I passed out immediately and woke up throwing up. That's all."

"You didn't talk? Not this morning?" she prodded on.

It was only 11am. Your face involuntary cringed with regret.

Minjeong gasped dramatically, "Y/N, if you tell me right now that you left before he even woke up, I'm literally going to kill you. Y/N, that's such shitty behaviour. Honestly."

"Please don't make me feel worse than I already do," you sniffled as her words brought tears to your eyes, "I literally don't know what to do. All I want to do is let him go for his sake, but he keeps dragging me back to him."

She wrapped you up in a tight hug and smoothed out your hair, "Y/N, just go back to his room and tell him how you feel. Let him tell you how he feels too. You're going to keep going around in circles if you keep running from him, and it's going to end in heartbreak again."

You cried into her shoulders for a few minutes in sheer frustration, until she pushed you out of the door and made Heeseung drive you mid-bowl of cereal to the frat house to make sure you actually went inside.

On your grand exit out of the house that you prayed would go unnoticed, you had ran into Shotaro in the living room cleaning. He had given you a disappointed look, but your pleading eyes convinced him not to say anything as you slipped out of the door shortly after waking up. The expression on your face must have told him that you were sneaking away from his best friend.

It was Shotaro who opened the door for you when you knocked just 20 minutes after you left.

"You came to your senses?" Shotaro quirked an eyebrow at you as he stepped aside to let you in. You waved goodbye to Heeseung as he drove back in the direction he came in.

"I'm sorry, Taro."

"I'm not the one you should be saying that to," he sighed defeatedly, "Please don't hurt him again, Y/N. I love you both, but please."

All you could give him was a faltering smile as you ascended up to the second floor again. There were still some cups and miscellaneous items left strewn around the house, so you assumed that the frat brothers were mostly still asleep.

You tiptoed up to Sungchan's room and knocked three times, lightly, before pushing the door open. He was still curled up tightly on his side of the bed, cuddling a stuffed bear that you got him. It was exactly how you found him when you woke up again in the morning.

His face was so peaceful and angelic when he slept, soft snores escaping between his parted lips. In the past, you used to wake him up by peppering kisses on his smooth skin until he woke up. He used to wake up confused, until a smile would invade his face when he realised you were there. It used to make your heart feel all tight and warm in the best way possible.

Your breath hitched when Sungchan stirred to face his body towards you. Though his eyes stayed close, his breathing became noticeably shallower.

"You left," his voice was mercifully devoid of accusation, but it made your heart split down the middle all the same.

"I'm so sorry," it was pathetic, but that was all you could bring yourself to say.

Unwrapping his arm out from the tangle with his stuffed plushie, he patted the empty space on the bed that was still a bit warm. The weight of your body dropping onto the bed caused him to scooch a bit closer to you with his eyes still firmly closed.

"Can we just stop being sorry now? You're back now with no plans to leave again, so why do you keep running away from me?"

"Sungchan," you breathed out his name, but he opened his mouth again.

"I'll prove to you that all I want is still you. There's no one else, Y/N. You hurt me a lot, but I know you didn't want to. Let's give it another go. Do it properly and call each other boyfriend and girlfriend," his lips tugged up into a soft smile.

You didn't even know when you started crying but at the sound of your sniffle, his hands came up to wipe at your cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

"What did I do to deserve someone like you? You deserve someone better," you choked out through your hot tears.

He let out a soft laugh as his eyes finally opened slowly and met yours, "Stop asking questions and saying sorry and just accept that I want to love you, Y/N."

His words triggered a waterfall of tears to stream down your face, but he pulled you down into the bed with him and wrapped you up in his arms tightly. It felt like home again.

"I loved you, Sungchan. I did."

He brushed the hair out of your face and planted a searing kiss on your temple, "I know, Y/N. I knew. Stop crying and go back to sleep with me. It'll all be okay when we wake up. I promise, baby."

He tucked his bear into your grasp and pulled the sheets over your bodies again. His arms returned around you and he continued to press the most gentle touches of his lips on your forehead, your temples, your nose and finally onto your lips that held back choked sobs until you slipped out of consciousness.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"I wanna know everything you did in New York," Sungchan requested softly as he swung next to you. On the walk to your apartment from his that he accompanied you on after you both woke up, you spotted the playground equidistant between both residences empty. The two of you had spent a few nights there in the past swinging beside each other and talking, so it seemed perfect to go there again to talk- somewhere public and open.

You texted Minjeong that you were on the way back to your flat to change and freshen up and she kindly left with Heeseung as to not make the situation any more awkward or tense by having them meet in such a circumstance. Sungchan just sprawled in your bed and scrolled on his phone as you showered, changed and applied your skincare. After a night of drinking, throwing up and not moisturising after washing your face in the middle of the night, your skin had been going through it. When you plugged in your hairdryer and made him scooch over silently so you could sit on the bed, Sungchan had sat up and taken the dryer out of your grasp, motioning for you to turn around.

"Someone's watched Queen of Tears," you humoured over at him as the humming and heat began to fill the room.

"Just like the entire country," he jested back, "I guess we're a bit like them."

"Chaebols who get married and hate each other until one of them gets a seemingly incurable illness?" through the mirror at the end of your bed, you saw Sungchan roll his eyes playfully.

"Two people that find their way back to each other," he had corrected softly.

His words struck you silent, just watching him direct the dryer at your hair while thoughts swarmed in your head. You weren't sure if your neck was burning up from the dryer or from his fingers bumping against your skin every so often.

Since the two of you woke up, you could probably count on your hands how many times you'd spoken. You'd settled into this comfortable, but weighted silence knowing that sooner or later you'd probably have to properly talk to navigate the events of the night prior. You had delayed it a bit by asking to go home and change and he walked you all the way wordlessly other than suggesting to go to the park after.

When you were done getting ready, the two of you made your way to the park. This time, Sungchan had grabbed your hand firmly in his at the very first instance of your skin brushing. He was much more bold than when you had left.

"What do you want to know?" you quirked an eyebrow as he kicked off the ground to swing higher.

"If it was everything you dreamed of. If you missed home. If you made friends," he listed out, looking over at you.

You sighed and thought back. Over the past few weeks since you'd been back, everyone had asked you the same questions. For the most part, you had given the same answer to all of them robotically, but you felt like Sungchan deserved a bit more than your usual spiel.

"The city was incredible. New York was always my dream. I got to travel a little around the country too, so that was nice. It got really lonely pretty quickly, even though I made a lot of friends. It's just so busy and everyone has their own thing," you recounted slowly, "I missed home as soon as I left, but I do miss the friends I made in New York. America is very different to Seoul though."

"Did you mean what you said at the party? There was no one else?" his voice was shaky as he asked. You knew it wasn't something he took lightly.

"I wouldn't lie to you," you affirmed strongly, "I really did miss you and regretted everything the second I left. I was too ashamed to admit my mistake, so I'm sorry for hurting you unnecessarily. I don't regret going to New York, but I regret leaving you."

He stops the swing by planting his feet firmly. His eyes bore into yours as he tried to analyse your emotions.

"I grew a lot in that year apart, so I guess I should thank you for that. I learned that I should fight for what I want and I think we can be better this time around," Sungchan nodded, "And I missed you a lot. I keep saying it, but I just want you to know I never hated you or thought of you in anger while you were away."

The silence that followed must have freaked him out a little because he quickly continued.

"And about Jiyoon. Just, um, ignore her, please. I never knew she felt that way and I promise that I never acted in a way that might have conveyed that I felt the same," Sungchan blurted out with wide eyes, "I just- didn't know how to bring you up to her. We honestly didn't see each other very much; she just exaggerated."

You giggled a little at his panic and reached over the iron links to take his hand, "I trust you, Sungchan. You were free to do anything you wanted, but still, I trust you. You're allowed to have friends."

With a squeeze of his hand, Sungchan stood up and loomed over you on your swing. He tugged softly to get you up on your feet and clasped his hands around your waist when you did. Sungchan pulled you close to him, chest to chest.

Gasping, you looked around to make sure the playground was still empty, "Sungchan!"

He nuzzled his face down, close against yours with your foreheads pressed together, "You're all I could ever want. Please don't leave me again."

Your body completely melted into his as you brought your cold hands up to his warm cheeks. Bravely, you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely missing his lips, "I won't, Channie."

"Is it too fast to tell you I love you? I've been waiting to say it for over a year," Sungchan pulled his head back and scrunched his face up, "Does that make me too much of a loser? Being this down bad for you?"

All the tension and stress left your body; you could finally return to normal and joke with Sungchan as you giggled into his neck, "Maybe. Do you not want to be?"

"No, I love you," he chuckled along, grazing his nose against yours again before pressing his warm lips on yours.

His lips were pillowy, parting your lips and allowing him to push deeper. He was much more gentle this time than the night before, but a squeeze on your waist caused your breath to hitch and allowed him to run tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel the outpour of emotions in his kiss and how desperate he was to let you know them.

In the year without Sungchan, your heart grew fonder and fonder and you thought to yourself how you were never going to waste another minute with him.

Sungchan had been the first to pull away, looking down at you with half-lidded, passion-filled eyes, "Let's go back before some family comes and reports us to the police."

"Ha, for doing what?" you teased, hooking your fingers around his belt loops.

His eyes transformed into a glare as he stepped away from you and moved towards the exit, "Very funny, Y/N. Yours or mine?"

"Mine," you shrugged, "Minjeong's out with Heeseung and your frat brothers are all home and hungover."

Sungchan just grinned at you, swinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight to his body, "I can't wait to tell everyone you're mine again."

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The last game of the season was the national finals. You had been nervous all week watching Sungchan leave every day for extra practice when he usually only trained once a week with the team.

With a cup of cola in one hand and a cardboard sign in the other, you fought through the crowd on the bleachers to find the available seat between some of your friends. Minjeong was already settled in her seat, scolding Seunghan and Sohee for playing with her I <3 Heeseung homemade headband.

"You made it!" Chanyoung clapped happily as you sat between him and his older cousin. On the other side of him, the rest of the boys waved at you excitedly.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, of course!" you beamed. The whole arena was vibrating with excitement as nearly the whole student population turned up for the game. It was the final big event in the school calendar before the stress of final exams took over, so everyone was letting their hair down a little.

There was a section of supporters of the other team tucked away in the corner, but otherwise the people meshed together in a sea of your school colours. They had won the draw as to which school the game would be played at. You yourself was sporting a jersey nearly identical to the one that Sungchan would be coming out in soon. The shirt on his back fit his frame nicely, but it draped over you like a dress.

"Channie's gonna play good tonight because his lucky charm's here," Wonbin snorted teasingly, "He was shit all of last season."

"Wonbin," Eunseok hissed, but you just laughed with the long-haired boy.

"I'm really excited. I know they'll win." you waved the "GO #23" sign towards them.

You watched the field in anticipation as they ran out to erupting cheers from the supporters and watched as Sungchan searched the crowds for his group of friends as soon as they settled in a line. He waved in a small gesture, but all of you stood up and flailed your hands everywhere. You shook the sign vigorously and watched as his face contorted in awe and appreciation.

The game was absolutely nerve wracking. Your arms were interlocked and clutched tightly with Minjeong's and the two of you moved like one being standing up to shout at bad referee decisions or cheer at good tackles. Heeseung and Sungchan were playing well up front together, dominating the field so far with a few decent shots on target. Being the most dangerous on the field, the other team's defence were taking them on left, right and centre, causing your faces to be stuck in a permanent grimace for the first half.

Seunghan tried to start a cheer at half-time and that provided enough entertainment for your group when it miserably failed to notice the passage of time. In fresh shirts and refreshed motivation, your team went all out and scored 2 goals. Heeseung's celebrations towards Minjeong were sweet and had her swooning with flushed cheeks.

The other team had managed to score a goal, but in the 87th minute, Sungchan had broken away from his marker around the halfway line and poured all of his might into completing his run to the goal. The goalkeeper had a lot of time to anticipate Sungchan's goal, but his left foot was powerful enough to send the ball hurtling past the keeper's fingers and into the back of the net.

Screaming and yelling in joy, Sungchan slid in the direction of your friends and blew kisses in your direction. Beaming ear to ear, you deafened your friends with your ecstatic whoops. His teammates jumped on his body and then dragged him back to his position for the final 3 minutes.

Safe to say, they won the final.

After a celebration with medals, Prosecco and school cheers, you were waiting in the lobby just outside the changing rooms.

Sohee was talking your ear off about some game that he had started playing with Seunghan when a hand snaked around your waist and you felt the flutter of lips hovering over your neck.

"There's my girl. Hi, baby," he murmured against you. After sweating for 90 minutes, the boys definitely all had to take showers, so his hair was still slightly dripping over the jersey on your back.

"Channie, I'm so proud of you. Congratulations!" spinning around in his grip, you hooked your arms around his neck as he buried his head in yours.

"Your support meant everything to me. Thank you for the banner! I have the best girlfriend ever," he pulled back and beamed down at you, planting a peck on your expectant lips.

Despite having been officially his girlfriend for over 6 months now, the title still made your heart flutter to this day. You'd never forgive your past self from depriving yourself from having Sungchan as you had him now. Despite being the sweetest companion in your early university days, he had held himself back a little due to your hesitation.

Now that you were all in, Sungchan showered you with love, praise and support in anything you did. You tried your best to reciprocate and most days, it felt like your heart could explode every time you looked at him from how your love seemed to grow more and more every day.

He was the perfect gentleman and the perfect boyfriend. He brought you snacks whenever you had to stay late at the library and tucked you tight in his chest under the covers on the days that the world seemed to be collapsing - it never did, maybe thanks to him.

In short, adoring Sungchan became part of your daily routine. A task that you were happy to continue for the rest of your life.

"And I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world," you rested your cheek against his chest as you squeezed him tighter, "I love you, Sungchan."

His heartbeat thumped in your ear as he smoothed out your hair with his palm. The rhythm was strong and constant, as dependable as he was. You felt the love in his touch, no need for words.

Jung Sungchan was a man of his word. As long as you stayed by each other's side, everything would be okay. The world continues to spin. Your heart continues to beat for him.

662 notes · View notes