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poetic-vulgarity · 1 day ago

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ᎮᎥᏖᎩ ᎮᏗᏒᏖᎩ II- Kim Minjeong x Reader

Word Count: ~7K

Prompt: When Minjeong transferred to an elite school, she didn't expect to catch the attention of Y/N, the golden girl. Then again, she also didn't expect Y/N to be the root of all her misery.

Tags: slow burn; angst; drama; high school! AU; richgirl!Y/N; happy ending (?) Part I, Part 2

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Minjeong was ignoring Y/N.

That much was clear.

It started happening after the night Y/N confessed to her.

There were texts left on read. Calls unanswered. When Y/N called for Minjeong in the school hallways, the short-haired girl just walked faster and disappeared. When Y/N tried talking to Minjeong before or after classes, the other girl put her headphones on and focused on her exercises.

Y/N thought she hadn't ruined anything with her confession.

She thought she and Minjeong could work things out with patience.

"Maybe I thought wrong."

"Are you kidding me?" Aeri frowned, her arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulder as the two walked along the hallways. "From what you've told me, you've been nothing but lovely to her."

"Well, clearly, something went wrong." Y/N shook her head. "She seemed fine when we were at my house. We even went to a convenience store, and I walked her home. I-why would she just start ignoring me?"

Aeri stayed silent, not really knowing how to answer. Her best friend had been the happiest she'd seen her in a while. It didn't make sense that Minjeong would just ignore Y/N for no reason after that.

The only possibility Aeri could think of was that Minjeong had realized dating Y/N wasn't going to work and had decided to break it off.

The problem was that ignoring Y/N instead of talking about it was a pretty poor way to-

Aeri tilted her head, an idea suddenly crossing her mind. "Didn't you say she's friends with Jimin?"

"Yeah, so-" Y/N turned to Aeri, her eyes widening ever so slightly. "You think she told her about my father?"

"I mean," Aeri hesitated, "Jimin did tell Ning that she regretted breaking up with you... and she always goes after what she wants."

Y/N took her time to think her options through.

It was ridiculous.

Jimin was the one who broke up with her. She was the one who let their parents' business get in the way of their relationship. Two years down the drain because Y/N's father was elected as mayor and not Jimin's.

And now she was ruining her relationship with Minjeong?

Y/N shook her head, looking down at her hands, picking at a few loose skins. "Jimin wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't she?" Aeri suddenly halted in her tracks, and Y/N turned to her in confusion.

She followed her gaze and felt her jaw clench in anger.

Walking right towards them were Jimin and her group-Yunjin, Ning, and Minjeong. Y/N felt a little sick to her stomach.

The group moved to walk right past her, but Y/N reached for Minjeong, her hand suddenly trembling.

"Hey." She tried to meet Minjeong's eyes, but the other girl refused.

Minjeong could feel Y/N's grasp on her arm but refused to meet her gaze. Her heart was beating out of control in her chest, a mix of emotions washing over her.

She didn't want to see Y/N.

She didn't want to talk to Y/N or get close to Y/N or get to know Y/N.

In fact, all she wanted was to forget her.

Because if she got close to Y/N, she'd only come to care for her more.

She'd only come to care about a girl who had done nothing but lie to her. A girl whose father had completely ruined her life.

"Can we talk... alone?" Y/N's voice was as calm as ever, but one look at her face told everyone that she wasn't very happy with the situation she found herself in.

"Actually, I need to get to class, sorry," Minjeong mumbled.

Minjeong felt bad about the way Y/N's face fell at her response, but she had a hard time caring about it at the moment.

All she wanted to do was get out of the situation and clear her mind.

Y/N's hand tightened around her arm. "Minjeong, please. I just need a minute."

"Didn't you hear her?" Jimin spoke up, wrapping an arm around Minjeong's shoulder. "She doesn't wanna talk to you."

Y/N clenched her jaw, her eyes darkening as she turned to finally look at Jimin. "What did you tell her?"

"Only the truth," Jimin replied calmly, her eyes never leaving Y/N.

Minjeong just stood there, frozen, as the two stared at each other. She was aware of her friends worriedly glancing at her, unsure of what to do with their situation.

"You had the chance to tell her everything on your own. You didn't, so I did."

"I was going to." Y/N's eyes fell on Minjeong. "Minjeong, I swear-"

Minjeong shook her head. "You had plenty of chances to tell me. You chose not to."

She stared at Y/N for just a little while longer as hurt filled up in her chest. "It's too late now," she finally said simply.

When the bell rang later that day, she pushed the door open and walked into class, ignoring the looks Y/N was giving her.

Their teacher was always late, so students were walking around the room, chatting with each other.

Minjeong settled down in her spot and pulled out her notebook. Her eyes instinctively rolled back when she caught a familiar figure approaching her from the corner of her eye.

"Will you, please, just hear me out?"

Minjeong tensed as Y/N took the seat next to her.

"Minjeong-" Y/N began.

"Don't." Minjeong found her voice again, her eyes glued to her notebook.

The last thing she wanted was to hear Y/N making up excuses, so she steeled herself and refused to look up.

"Look, my father did build your old school, and I knew who you were from the minute you set foot inside this school." Y/N decided she'd be honest and make herself heard. "I was friendly with you because I wanted to make myself feel better for my father's actions. I'm sorry. I promise you that everything I told you when I confessed to you was true. I really do-"

The room seemed to freeze as Y/N's head snapped to the side on impact.

Minjeong's hand stung as it left Y/N's cheek, the sound of the slap resounding through the room, and everything came to a standstill.

Minjeong could feel all the eyes on them, but all she could focus on was the wide-eyed, hurt look on Y/N's face.

Minjeong forced the words out of her throat, her breaths coming up shallow against the weight of the emotions in her chest. "You need to shut up and leave me the fuck alone."

She held Y/N's eyes for a second, taking in her wide-eyed expression. There was hurt in the other girl's eyes, the look nearly making Minjeong feel bad.

The moment didn't last. Once the door opened behind them and they heard the teacher's footsteps approach, Minjeong turned to the front of the room again.

Y/N looked down in embarrassment and shame. She stood up from her seat and wiped away the stream of blood in the corner of her mouth.

The slap had made her accidentally bite herself.

She moved back to her seat, ignoring everyone's eyes on her.

Minjeong tried her best to focus on the teacher and write down as many notes as she could. She had to keep her mind on something, and if writing down notes would help, she'd do it.

At one point during the lesson, she felt a pair of eyes on the back of her head.

It was a familiar feeling, similar to the one she had felt when she walked down school hallway earlier that morning.

Minjeong grit her teeth against the memory, refusing to take another look over her shoulder.

Y/N took the clue immediately.

It took her a slap to understand, but she did. She distanced herself from Minjeong. She didn't look her in the eyes anymore; she didn't try to talk to her or reach out for her.

Their friendship/relationship came to a complete halt...

For a full two days.

"Good afternoon!"

Minjeong's breath hitched at the familiar voice. It was Saturday. Why was she hearing this voice on a Saturday?

The short-haired girl looked up from her phone, and her eyes found Y/N standing there in her family's restaurant.

Minjeong almost dropped her phone in surprise.

She could feel goosebumps trailing down her arms as she stared at Y/N. The girl stood there waiting, an expectant look on her face, as if she expected her to say something.

Minjeong opened her mouth to speak-she wasn't even sure what-but her mother's voice echoed from the kitchen.

"Minjeong, you have a customer."

The girl swallowed nervously. Her phone went back into the pocket of her coat. She straightened her back and moved from her spot, making her way to where Y/N stood by the counter with her hands stuffed into her pockets.

The moment she came to a stop, a heavy silence fell over them.

Minjeong was sure she saw some bruising on Y/N's cheek and on the corner of the girl's lips.

Still, Y/N smiled gently at her and raised an expectant eyebrow, waiting for her to talk.

The short-haired girl's eyes were drawn to the bruising under Y/N's eye and on her lips. Her fingers twitched before she forced them into stillness.

"What are you doing here?" Her words came out harsher than she had intended.

If Y/N was taken aback by her harshness, she didn't show it. "I'm hungry."

Minjeong couldn't help but scoff. "And you decided to come here?"

Y/N stopped, looking around the place.

It was a restaurant, wasn't it?

"Is that okay?"

Minjeong's eyes narrowed, unsure whether Y/N was trying to mess with her head.

"There are other restaurants, you kn-"

A slap was delivered to the back of Minjeong's head. Her mouth fell open, and she turned to find her mother glaring at her. "Minjeong, why are you denying service to such a-"

The older woman turned to look at Y/N, and the latter put her most charming smile on display.

"-pretty customer?"

Minjeong's frown deepened as she watched her mother fall for Y/N's charm.

It was ridiculous.

Her eyes turned back to Y/N, who was looking at her with a hopeful gaze.

Minjeong clenched her jaw against the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her again. "What do you want to eat?"

Another slap. "Let her sit and get accommodated first," her mother hissed, turning to Y/N with a wide smile. "Sit wherever you want, sweetie. Minjeong will be with you shortly."

Y/N bowed her head thankfully, smile still there. "Thank you, Ma'am. It's a pleasure to finally meet Minjeong's mom."

The woman was surprised. "Oh, you two know each other?"

Minjeong opened her mouth to disagree, but Y/N beat her to it. "I'm courting your daughter. I was actually hoping to get your blessing."

She's what-?

Minjeong's face flushed with embarrassment, and all she could do was stare, mouth half-open.

Her mother didn't notice. Her eyes were wide, cheeks tinged pink as she looked at the beautiful girl in front of her.

"Oh, really?" Her mother glanced between them, her expression growing giddy. "Yes, of course, sweetie. Minjeong is a lovely girl-she can just be a little grouchy sometimes."

Minjeong's hands clenched into fists at the look on her mother's face.

Of course, she was completely smitten.

Her mother had always harbored an adoration for the wealthy and powerful, especially when it came to Minjeong's future partner. It was something Minjeong had grown used to, but it never failed to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.

Her mother ushered Y/N toward a booth and then turned back to her. "I knew sending you to that school was a good idea! Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?!"

Minjeong resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her mother gripped her arms, giddy beyond reason.

"I'm not seeing anyone. Y/N is an awf-"

Her mother cut her off, nudging her toward the booth. "I like her! Don't leave her waiting, come on!"

Minjeong gritted her teeth but gave in.

Her mom beamed as she walked away, completely oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing in her daughter's chest.

Minjeong reached Y/N's table and forced herself to take a deep breath.

Y/N's eyes followed her every step, watching her closely, completely entranced. She couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips.

"What do you want to eat?" Minjeong asked again, gritting her teeth against the urge to throw this girl out of her family's restaurant.

Y/N snapped out of her reverie, eyes widening as she cleared her throat.

This was a restaurant of what, exactly?

"I-uhh-" She looked around, trying to see what the other customers were eating, but she couldn't make anything out. "What-what do you have?"

Minjeong's eye twitched. The menu was right in front of her. Y/N was just too busy staring to notice.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Minjeong pointed at the stupid thing, her jaw clenching as the taller girl leaned in to look.

She could see her mom eyeing them from across the room, not being discreet in the slightest.

Minjeong wanted to be six feet under.

Y/N skimmed through the menu, eyes moving quickly over the selection.

"I think I'll have the dwaeji gukbap."

Minjeong nodded, ready to grab the menu and leave, but Y/N wasn't done.

"Also, the milmyeon, godeungeo-gui, agujjim, and eomuk, please. Oh! And can I get the dongnae pajeon and the guljeon?"

Minjeong rolled her eyes and yanked the menu away before Y/N could order anything else.

"What are you doing?"

Y/N looked confused. "I was... ordering."

Minjeong wanted to slap her. Again.

"What, you couldn't personally shower me in your money anymore, so you came to do that at my family's restaurant? Can't you be a decent person for once in your life and just leave me the fuck alone?"

Y/N just smiled. "Dinner's on me tonight. My parents are in town, and they brought a few friends over."

Minjeong clenched her jaw.

She hated how unbothered Y/N looked, how effortlessly she wormed her way into her life again.

If she had any shame, she'd just go home.

But no. She was there, flashing her money and privilege like always, getting exactly what she wanted.

Minjeong wanted to deny her service-kick her out, ban her from ever stepping foot inside again.

But the amount of food Y/N had just ordered... meant rent was covered for the month.

Minjeong hated her. More and more.

She was about to make that very clear when Y/N suddenly stood up and bowed, looking past her shoulder.

Minjeong turned to see her father approaching with a warm smile.

"Oh, fuck me."

Her father wiped his hands on the black apron tied around his waist as he reached their table. Slowly, almost carefully, he extended his hand for Y/N to shake.

"My wife told me to come meet my daughter's girlfriend."

Minjeong wanted to die.

"Hopefully in the future, sir." Y/N chuckled softly-a sound that tickled Minjeong's brain just right. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She reached out, clasping his hand with practiced ease, bowing just enough to be respectful.

She just had to be perfect at everything, didn't she?

Minjeong's father was immediately taken in by her manners, her gentle touch.

Minjeong wanted to scream.

She wanted to tell him about the lies.

She wanted to tell him about the secrets hiding behind that polite, practiced smile.

But she couldn't.

The amount of money Y/N was about to spend-the dinner her parents and their friends were about to have-would keep her family afloat for another month.

And Minjeong couldn't take that away from her parents.

It all felt like a cruel game.

Her chest tightened as she watched her father and Y/N exchange a few words. His eyes gleamed with admiration as he looked at Y/N, and Minjeong felt the sudden urge to throw up.

She kept her gaze fixed on the table, doing her best to block out the conversation.

Once her father left-after shooting her an approving nod-Y/N sat back down, looking entirely too satisfied with herself.

"You're a manipulative liar," Minjeong tried again, her voice firmer this time.

Y/N didn't budge. "A manipulative liar who's in love."

Minjeong's jaw clenched at the words.

In love?

The audacity of this girl to even say that.

Her fingers curled into fists.

How could one person be so infuriating?

She turned sharply, stalking back to the counter to put the order into the register-only to catch her mother watching their every move, a pleased smile on her face.

That was it.

As soon as her shift was over, Minjeong was going to off herself.

Meanwhile, Y/N simply watched her go, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Why was it so easy to get under Minjeong's skin?

She dragged out her time at the restaurant as much as she could.

As long as she was there, she was fine.

She got to see Minjeong. She got to talk to Minjeong's lovely parents. She got to not be at home with her parents.

It was perfect.

Unfortunately, Mr. Kim had other plans. He worked as quickly as possible, insisting that Y/N and her parents shouldn't have to wait long for their food.

So, far too soon, Y/N found herself stepping back inside her house, dinner in hand.

"What took you so long?" her father asked from the living room, seated among his colleagues.

"I was quick." She replied shortly, carrying the bags into the kitchen.

Grabbing a plate for herself, she made her way upstairs, wanting nothing to do with the circus unfolding downstairs.

The following days were the same.

Y/N would come, order a ridiculous amount of food, and leave-only to come back again the next day.

Minjeong's parents were absolutely thrilled by her presence.

And Minjeong?

Minjeong hated it.

The anger, the frustration, the sheer distaste burned through her chest every time Y/N walked through that door.

But after two weeks of the same thing, the fight had drained out of her.

She didn't yell. She didn't snap. She didn't even glare anymore.

She merely stood behind the counter, arms crossed, waiting while Y/N placed her order.

"Food will take around thirty minutes to prepare. You can sit while you wait." Minjeong's voice came out flat, her expression unreadable as she turned away.

She walked to the kitchen, relaying the order to her father.

"She here yet?" he asked with a grin.

Minjeong let out a slow, controlled breath, doing everything she could to hold onto what little patience she had left.

"She's here," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Her father's smile widened. "Good! Take care of her for me."

Minjeong's mother perked up from where she was wiping down the counter, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Let me go say hi to her."

Ten minutes later, when Minjeong stepped out of the kitchen, she nearly dropped the tray she was holding.

There, sitting comfortably at one of the booths, was her mother. And across from her, whipping the tables, was Y/N.

Minjeong froze.

Y/N-cleaning?

Her mother sat there like she hadn't just handed off one of her responsibilities to a paying customer, chatting away with a warm smile on her face.

Minjeong's fingers twitched against the tray.

What the hell was going on?

She stormed over, trying not to trip over her own frustration. "What are you doing?"

Y/N looked up, unbothered, a rag in one hand and a spray bottle in the other. "Helping."

Minjeong turned to her mother, expecting an explanation, but the older woman only beamed. "Such a sweet girl," her mom sighed dreamily. "She insisted, Minjeong! Said she wanted to help out since she's always here."

Minjeong clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay calm.

This was ridiculous.

She hated it.

She hated how easily Y/N charmed her parents.

She hated that Y/N was still here-in her space, in her life.

She hated that a small, stupid, buried part of her chest felt warm at the sight of Y/N helping out.

She exhaled sharply, shoving the thought away.

"Go sit down," she snapped, yanking the spray bottle from Y/N's hand.

Y/N grinned. "You're worried about me?"

"I'm worried about my restaurant looking like a joke," Minjeong shot back.

Her mother gasped. "Minjeong! Don't be rude!"

But Y/N just laughed, wiping her hands on her pants. "I'm just waiting for my food," she said casually. "Might as well make myself useful."

Minjeong turned away before her mother could see the glare she was sending Y/N's way.

She had to endure this.

At least until Y/N got bored and finally, finally left her alone.

Easier said than done.

Y/N was persistent.

At school, it had been fine. They didn't have every class together, and Minjeong could simply ignore her when she approached. But now Y/N was at her restaurant, invading her space, and it was getting to be too much.

The frustration built and built, day after day, until it finally snapped. It happened in gym class.

The basketball ball hit Y/N's cheek with a loud smack, and she went down.

Hard.

The gym fell silent.

Minjeong's eyes widened in shock, regret washing over her.

It wasn't a light hit. It was a ball thrown with strength, purpose, and precision.

Y/N didn't even remember hitting the ground-just opening her eyes to see the teacher and several classmates hovering over her.

Fuck.

Minjeong looked around as the commotion grew. The coach knelt beside Y/N, checking on her, while the rest of the class murmured among themselves.

Her gaze met Aeri's and Chaewon's, who just so happened to be in that class as well. Their jaws were slack as they looked between her and their best friend.

Chaewon was never known for having the best temper. So it wasn't a surprise when she stormed over, shoving Minjeong back with enough force to make her stumble.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Chaewon's voice echoed through the gym, filled with unrestrained fury.

"Stop it, Chae." Aeri tried to intervene, wrapping an arm around Chaewon's waist to keep her from doing something she'd regret. She was angry too-they both were-but getting Chaewon expelled wouldn't help anyone.

Minjeong's head snapped toward them, her mouth opening to respond, but no sound came out.

Her eyes darted back to the group surrounding Y/N. Her stomach churned at the way everyone was looking at her-at the frowns on familiar faces, at the unspoken accusations in their stares.

"Girls, that's enough."

The teacher's voice cut through the tension as he knelt beside Y/N, helping her sit up.

"Chaewon, Aeri, take Y/N to the infirmary. Minjeong, stay behind after class. Everyone else, disperse! Class isn't over for another fifteen minutes!"

Minjeong's heart sank.

She had never gotten detention before.

And now, because she let her emotions take control, she had made a fool of herself in front of everyone.

She stood frozen, watching as Chaewon and Aeri carefully helped Y/N off the ground. Even from a distance, she swore she could see the glares they both sent her.

Detention it was.

Minjeong tried to see the bright side of things.

At least now, Y/N hated her. She would finally leave her alone. She would stop showing up at the resta-

Minjeong blinked.

There she stood, in front of the counter, completely soaked.

There was a storm outside. The restaurant was practically empty.

What the hell was Y/N doing there?

"Hi." The taller girl let out, the corner of her bruised lips tilting into a soft smile.

A loud crash of thunder boomed in the background, and heavy rain pelted against the windows.

But Minjeong wasn't paying attention to the storm. Her focus was solely on Y/N. On the dark purple bruise marring her left cheek-a clear, undeniable reminder of what had happened just a day ago.

And yet, she had the audacity to smile at her.

Minjeong didn't know how to respond. Thankfully, she didn't have to. A loud gasp surged from behind her, and she stiffened as her mother rushed forward.

"What happened to you?" Minjeong tensed as her mother gently cupped Y/N's face in her hands, tilting it up to assess the damage. She expected Y/N to back away, to flinch under her mother's touch. But she didn't. She just stood there, smiling, like a complete fool.

"It's been raining so much these days," Y/N said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I slipped and fell."

Minjeong's breath caught in her throat.

Did she just lie?

Y/N could have easily exposed her.

She could have ruined her right then and there, could have held it over her head like a trophy.

Minjeong had expected her to lash out, to finally snap and make her life miserable.

But she didn't.

She just stood there, soaking wet, a bruise on her face, and a stupid smile lingering on her lips.

Why?

Minjeong already knew her secret. She knew who Y/N really was and why she had approached her on that first day. She knew how rotten Y/N and her intentions were.

So why?

"You're completely soaked too."

Minjeong's mother turned toward her. "Minjeong, get her a towel and an ice pack, please."

Minjeong froze.

Her mother turned back to Y/N and ushered her toward a table. "You need to take care of yourself! Look at that pretty face of yours! And what if you get sick?"

Y/N chuckled lightly. "I'll be fine, Miss Kim. I was more worried about you, though. How's your leg?"

Minjeong stiffened.

Her mother had injured herself years ago-she had slipped during a storm, just like this one, and broken her leg. Even now, on cold nights, the pain lingered.

But how the hell did Y/N know about that?

Why did she care?

Minjeong's heart fluttered, just for a second. She gulped, pushing away the feeling, and stepped away to grab the towel and ice pack.

Her fingers gripped the fabric tightly as she glanced back at Y/N, who was still sitting, listening intently to her mother.

A nagging thought scratched at the back of Minjeong's mind, urging her to give in to this strange, persistent kindness.

She shoved it away.

"Here," Minjeong muttered, placing the towel beside Y/N and setting the ice pack down on the table.

She turned to leave- a hand wrapped around her wrist.

Minjeong's breath hitched. She looked down, expecting Y/N, but it was her mother.

"Hold the ice up for her, will you? I'm going to get her some soup to warm up."

Minjeong's jaw nearly dropped.

She could not believe what she was hearing.

It was pure karma.

She opened her mouth to protest, but her mother was already walking off toward the kitchen, leaving her alone.

With her.

Minjeong turned back to Y/N, who was still sitting, head tilted slightly, studying her with that same infuriating curiosity.

She sighed and reached for the ice pack.

A soft chuckle stopped her.

Minjeong's gaze flickered up.

Y/N was smiling-lips curled just slightly, dimples barely visible. She pulled the towel from her shoulders, setting it aside.

The sound of rain against the windows filled the silence between them.

"You don't have to do that," Y/N said, voice softer than usual.

Minjeong frowned.

"Just keep me company for a little while, please. I miss talking to you."

Minjeong felt it again. That stupid flutter in her chest.

Y/N had to be faking it. She had to. But the look in her eyes-

It wasn't the same glimmer she gave her friends, the playful twinkle that Minjeong had grown used to seeing.

This was different. It was softer. Gentler.

Minjeong swallowed, pressing the ice pack against Y/N's bruised cheek.

Y/N winced slightly at the cold but didn't move away. Instead, she smiled, shifting slightly to make space beside her in the booth.

Minjeong hesitated. Then, slowly, she sat down. Silence settled between them, but Y/N didn't let it linger."I'm sorry about Chaewon," she said, voice quiet. "She's... protective."

Minjeong tensed. It wasn't like she could disagree.

Chaewon was protective. But she was also right.

Minjeong had hurt her friend.

Her grip tightened slightly on the ice pack as she kept it in place.

"She had every right to be," Minjeong said, her tone cold. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

Y/N only smiled, leaning into the touch.

Minjeong's breath caught, her jaw clenched at the closeness.

How could someone she hated be so damn comfortable around her?

Minjeong wanted Y/N to get angry-to yell, to scream.

Not sit there and be friendly.

She clenched her jaw as Y/N smiled, "So you did mean to hit me."

Minjeong couldn't deny it. She stayed silent.

The rain outside filled the quiet that settled between them.

She could hear her mother moving around the kitchen, the clatter of pots and soft humming mixing with the sound of thunder in the distance.

Minjeong wanted to say something-anything. Even an insult would do. But her mind was blank.

The ice pack had started to warm against her fingers. She adjusted it against Y/N's cheek, pressing it gently into place.

"I still don't like you," she huffed, more to fill the silence than anything. "I'm not falling for your lies again."

Y/N exhaled, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

"I didn't lie about wanting to be your friend. Or liking you," she said softly. "I just... didn't approach you with the right intentions. I'm sorry. My dad-he's not the best person. I barely know him. But I knew that he hurt you. And I wanted to make it better somehow."

Minjeong's throat tightened.

She didn't want to hear that.

She nudged Y/N's shoulder instead, scowling. "Just shut up and keep drying yourself. You're soaking the sofa."

Y/N smiled.

It wasn't much but it was a start and she was patient.

So she kept showing up at the restaurant.

She kept talking to Minjeong at school.

Interaction by interaction.

Brick by brick.

Until, somehow, impossibly-Minjeong let her back in.

Things got better.

So much better, in fact, that on Christmas Eve, Y/N found herself standing in front of Minjeong's house, clutching bags of gifts and food in her hands.

When the door opened, Minjeong just stared.

Her voice caught in her throat, countless thoughts racing through her mind.

"Y/N-what are you doing here?"

Y/N hesitated for only a second before raising the bags slightly, a small, lopsided smile on her face.

"I promised, didn't I?"

Minjeong blinked.

If anyone had told her that Y/N would actually show up, she would've laughed and told them to get their head checked.

She hadn't even expected Y/N to remember. The words had been brushed off as a joke, an empty promise at best.

But she was there.

With food. With gifts.

Minjeong's chest fluttered painfully as she took in the sight of her.

The soft glow of Christmas lights reflected in Y/N's eyes, and the crinkle at the corners of her smile made her stomach twist.

"You're crazy," Minjeong mumbled, before sighing and stepping forward, pulling Y/N into a small hug. "Y/N, you didn't have to."

"It's nothing." Y/N shrugged, stepping inside when Minjeong opened the door wider for her.

And if Minjeong had thought her parents were easily charmed by Y/N, her siblings proved her wrong.

Y/N didn't even have to say anything to win them over.

The moment they saw her step inside, looking like Santa Claus himself with all those gifts, their eyes lit up.

Minjeong watched from the side as her siblings swarmed Y/N with excitement, admiring the gifts all for themselves.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a chuckle, but still startled slightly when her mother suddenly gasped.

"YOU CAME!"

Before Y/N could even react, Minjeong's mother had grabbed her arm and dragged her straight to the kitchen. "Come try my kimchi! You like spice, right? I made it extra spicy this year!"

Minjeong couldn't help but soften as she watched her mother pull Y/N into the bustling house, filled with the laughter and chatter of her family.

The sight of her siblings holding their new toys, excitedly showing Y/N their favorite things about the gifts, made her heart swell.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she slowly made her way into the living room.

But even as she sat down, her eyes never left Y/N.

The way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she fit so effortlessly into her world.

It took a while, but eventually, Y/N stepped back into the living room, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Y/N gave her a small smile. "Your family is lovely."

Minjeong stood from the couch, reaching for her hand without thinking. "They keep hogging you," she muttered, tugging her gently" "Let's run away."

Y/N laughed but didn't hesitate to hold Minjeong's hand. She smiled, glancing around as the other girl led her to her bedroom. The house was small, but filled with warmth and comfort. Y/N couldn't help but envy it a little.

"Thank you for all the gifts," Minjeong murmured, closing the door behind them. "You really didn't have to."

The silence was a welcome change, but it didn't last long.

Somehow, they ended up lying on Minjeong's small bed, facing each other, when Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped box.

"I didn't know what to get you," she admitted, "I'm sorry."

Minjeong let out a soft laugh, her fingers moving to gently take the box from Y/N's hands.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Y/N. But whatever this is-it's perfect."

The gift was small, wrapped a little messily, but Minjeong didn't care.

She was too focused on the way Y/N was watching her.

Nervously, yet eagerly.

She unwrapped the box, tilting her head when she found a guitar pick inside. It was gorgeous-an ivory color with the initials K.M. engraved on each side.

Minjeong ran her thumb across the engraving, feeling the smoothness of it.

She couldn't believe what she was holding.

"The guitar should be arriving tomorrow."

Minjeong's eyes snapped up at Y/N's words, her grip on the pick tightening.

Her brain barely registered what she just heard.

'The guitar should be arriving tomorrow.'

The words repeated in her head, over and over, as she just stared at Y/N, her mouth slightly open.

A million thoughts, emotions, words-nothing could properly form.

Y/N was crazy.

No-this was insane.

There was no way Y/N actually bought her a guitar.

Just the thought of it made her feel lightheaded.

"Do you like it?" Y/N asked hesitantly.

Minjeong was still staring at the guitar pick in her hands, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"I heard you tell a client you were saving up to buy one," Y/N continued, pulling out her phone and sitting up to show Minjeong a few pictures. "It's this one. I talked to a guy, and he said this one is good for beginners."

Minjeong's breath hitched as she looked at the screen.

The guitar was beautiful.

Glossy black, brand new strings, shining under the store lights.

She swallowed thickly, looking up at Y/N again-who was just watching her, waiting.

Patient.

The gift was expensive and gorgeous and thoughtful.

Minjeong's heart swelled, her chest tightening with an emotion she couldn't name.

So she did the only thing she could.

She threw her arms around Y/N's neck, hugging her tightly.

Y/N froze for a moment at the sudden warmth engulfing her-but then she melted. Her arms instinctively wrapped around Minjeong's waist, pulling her close.

Her heart skipped at the unexpected affection, her cheeks burning.

She closed her eyes and smiled, taking in Minjeong's warmth, the way she felt against her-her scent, her presence.

"I'm glad you like it."

Minjeong couldn't stop herself.

Her grip on Y/N tightened as she buried her face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

It was warm.

Comforting.

She sighed, her heart pounding as she closed her eyes.

"I love it."

Her voice was soft, muffled against Y/N's embrace.

She slowly pulled away, her face burning as she looked down at her hands.

"I also got you something," she mumbled, "but it feels useless compared to your gift."

Y/N frowned slightly at that.

Minjeong shouldn't compare gifts. That wasn't what this was about.

Before she could say anything, Minjeong stood up and walked toward her closet, pulling out a small box covered in reindeer-patterned wrapping paper.

Y/N's heart quickened at the sight.

She could see the effort Minjeong had put into wrapping it-the way the corners were neatly tucked, the way a tiny ribbon sat perfectly tied on top.

Her eyes flickered up to Minjeong, who was now holding the gift out for her. She reached over and took it carefully, her fingers running across the smooth wrapping.

The box was light and small in her hands. "Can I open it?"

Minjeong nodded.

Y/N smiled softly, taking her time untying the ribbon, making sure not to tear the paper as she lifted the lid off the box.

Inside, there was a layer of tissue paper.

She gently pulled it back and her breath hitched.

A blue jewelry box sat inside.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted it, flipping the lid open.

Inside, nestled against the soft velvet lining, was a golden necklace.

Y/N carefully picked it up, turning it over in her hands-

-and a small chuckle escaped her lips.

Dangling from the chain was a tiny, detailed basketball ball charm.

She swallowed thickly, her throat tight. It was so simple, yet it meant everything.

"You couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Minjeong smiled as she watched Y/N admiring the present.

Her heart squeezed gently as Y/N laughed and carefully lifted the necklace from the jewelry box.

Minjeong knew her gift was nothing compared to what Y/N had gotten for her. But seeing her like this-her face so soft, eyes full of warmth-made her more than happy.

The two stayed in Minjeong's room for as long as they could.

Which wasn't very long-because soon enough, her siblings and parents were calling them downstairs.

Y/N didn't linger much after that.

Christmas was about family, after all. The last thing she wanted to do was overstep.

So, despite Minjeong's mother asking her to stay for the twentieth time, she gently refused, saying she needed to get home before the snow started falling.

Minjeong walked her to the door, feeling a little sad to see her leave but too too shy to ask her to stay.

"Thanks for coming."

Y/N nodded, her chest feeling impossibly full. Minjeong had no idea how much tonight had meant to her.

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Minjeong's cheek. "Thanks for having me."

Minjeong felt her breath catch in her lungs.

The touch was gentle. Warm.

The spot where Y/N's lips had been tingled, heat rushing to her face.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling-burn it into her mind.

But before she could process it, Y/N was already pulling away.

"Drive safely," Minjeong managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled at her one last time before stepping out into the cold, pulling on her jacket.

Minjeong stayed by the doorway, watching as she got into her car.

And only when the car finally disappeared down the street did she allow herself to breathe again.

Time went on and Christmas break soon ended. Y/N was ecstatic to return to school after the break.

She couldn't wait to see Minjeong again.

As she walked through the hallways with her friends, there was an extra bounce in her step, a lightness in her chest.

They made their way outside for lunch, hoping the sun would warm them up.

"I don't know, I still don't like her."

Y/N paused mid-step at Chaewon's grumble.

She quickly exchanged an exasperated glance with Niki and Aeri before sighing. "Give it a rest, Chaewon."

"Give it a rest?" Chaewon scoffed. "Did you see the way she threw that ball at you, Y/N? That girl is dangerous, I'm telling you! What if she gets angry and throws another ball at you? It's psychotic. You were knocked out!"

Y/N shrugged, thanking Niki as he held the door open for her.

They stepped out into the school's wide garden, where the winter sun was shining brightly.

"She's got a strong personality, so what?" Y/N said easily. "Plus, she didn't mean to hit me that hard. And-" she grinned, holding up the charm hanging from her neck, "-she got me a necklace for Christmas!"

Chaewon snorted at that.

"A strong personality? She sounds like a psycho to me."

They reached an empty bench, settling into the sunlight.

Aeri gently nudged Y/N. "Just ignore her. She's just petty she's single."

Chaewon went on to argue that, but Y/N didn't mind them.

She knew her friend was just being protective-and she was thankful for that.

But at the same time, she was sure of one thing.

"Chae, Minjeong would never do anything to hurt me again. Trust me, she's-"

The words died in Y/N's throat.

Her chest tightened, breath catching as her gaze landed on a new sight.

It felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.

Minjeong was leaning against a tree-not too far away.

And standing in front of her, with one hand gently placed on her waist and the other tangled in her hair, was Jimin.

Y/N watched, frozen in place, as Jimin tilted her head down and kissed Minjeong.

Minjeong tilted her head up to meet her, their lips pressing softly together.

Y/N could see everything, the way Jimin pulled away gently, the way Minjeong's lips curved slightly in response.

Her heart plummeted into her stomach.

The world around her blurred, sounds faded into nothing-her ears were ringing, her pulse pounding in her head.

She hadn't even realized that she'd stopped breathing.

Her lungs screamed for air but she couldn't breathe in.

For a split second, the urge to step forward burned inside her. To pull them apart. To rip Jimin's hand away from Minjeong.

But time had frozen around her.

And in that moment, Y/N was done.

#aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #winter x reader #kim minjeong x reader #aespa minjeong #aespa #winter imagines #kim minjeong imagines #minjeong x reader #winter scenarios #winter x y/n #winter x you #minjeong x you #kim minjeong #aespa winter

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oikarma · 3 days ago

Text

don't look back in anger

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: she knows it's too late as she's walking on by. or: all the times you have talked to max verstappen since that night.

a/n: more angsty than the first part? a lot more written stuff 🤕 sorry if you don't like that kinda thing.

part one

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by f1 and 3,279,148 others

kellypiquet: To us, and to many more years together 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

view 69,501 comments

user1: oh my god it's happening!!!

user2: about time he put a ring on her finger...they've already had a kid together

user3: eh eh, eh eh, i just want it to be you

user4: can we normalize not bringing up people's exes in the comment sections of their new partners? user5: @/user4 max and yn weren't even exes get your facts right user3: @/user4 what 😭 it's a cute song and they're getting married user6: my chronically online ass cannot comprehend how people like yn's songs but don't know about the lore behind them

yourinstagram: congrats, kelly! * liked by kellypiquet

user7: maybe max is the problem guys. user8: @/user7 like if his situationship and his fiance can get along so well.. user9: i would crash out if my ex best friend slash maybe soulmate commented on my fiance's post and said congrats to HER and not me user10: women supporting women 💪

user11: the ring is so pretttyyy

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ONE.

The sun has started to dip, gold strokes across the pearly white decor. Around you are guests and heightened murmurs. Of course they're excited: it's Max Verstappen's wedding. A world champion among the greats.

You're still standing there, left by a few guests who wanted to offer their thoughts on your music. Their words were kind and well-meaning, but all they did was remind you of how queer it was. That you were at Max and Kelly's wedding. Sweat beads pile on your forehead, threatening to ruin your makeup; the dress feels heavy, too heavy. It might suffocate you. You straighten your back and take a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out.

"You came."

Max's voice is low and hesitant, but it easily breaks through your train of thought. His words are just placed out there, like he's not sure if he has a right to say them at all. They sit there in front of you, an ache, a question.

There's a knot in your stomach. This was a bad idea.

"Kelly invited me." Your voice is steady, yet it sounds distant. Like someone else is speaking your lines for you, making things alright. You don't want to be here anymore. Not like this. "What did you expect? That I wouldn't show up?"

Max's hand trembles. He wants to step closer, you think. But he can't. Not like this. Not now.

"I didn't know if...you'd want to see me," he stammers.

You stiffen at his words, remembering the clear boundaries between the two of you. The paparazzi aren't here: it's a private event, at his insistence. But there are others, others who are watching and listening Max Verstappen talk to the girl who wrote an album of songs about the love she could not return him.

A sharp breath escapes your lips. You don't want to deal with this. Not now, when you're both standing on the brink of something final.

"Max, this is Kelly's wedding." Your voice hardens. "Your wedding. She’s about to marry you. So whatever you think this is—whatever it was—it doesn’t matter anymore."

Max looks at you, his jaw tightening. An old habit, you remember, as he chews back the words he can't say aloud. A part of you wants to reach out to touch his face.

It's up to you, as it always has been. He wants to say something, to reach for the words that will make you understand, but he knows it’s too late for that. The realization dawns on his eyes. The past is too tangled, too complicated. And Kelly is waiting for him to be by her side.

"I never meant for things to end like this." His voice cracks slightly, and it’s clear that the weight of your history is crushing him. He takes another step forward, almost against his will. "I asked for too much. I'm sorry I hurt you."

The silence between you two feels thick, stretching longer than it should. Max’s eyes soften at your words, but you can see the hesitation in him, the part of him that wishes he could do more, be more for you. Enough.

And it hurts in a way that you don’t want to admit. Not here, not now.

You should walk away. This conversation isn’t for this moment. But you can’t move. Your feet are cemented to the ground, and Max is standing too close.

"I just... I miss you," he whispers, his voice breaking under the weight of the noose he's never fully escaped.

A shiver runs down your spine at how raw his voice is. Your chest tightens.

There it is. That thing you’d been trying to ignore. You miss him too. In ways that make no sense when you look at him, standing there, about to tie his life to someone else.

You wish things were different. You wish that you could let yourself feel what he’s offering. You’ve wondered, countless times, if you made the wrong choice. If you had let yourself fall, would it have been easier? Or would it have just destroyed you both in the end?

Max shifts his weight, his gaze never leaving yours, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes, the hope flickering there like it might ignite. It almost makes you want to step forward.

Almost.

But you know better. You can't.

"I..." You swallow, your voice rough. The words scatch in your throat. "I can’t do this, Max. Not now."

His face falls.

You hate that you’re creating this distance, but you have to. It’s the only way to stop both of you from falling back into this mess you've never cleaned up. Writing your songs was supposed to help and it only worsened your what-ifs.

You force yourself to breathe again. "You're about to marry Kelly. You can’t look back at me now, Max."

A long silence hangs between you two. Max opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You know the truth. Sure, you've asked yourself if your intuition was right. But you know. You’ve always known.

You can barely hear him when he lands the last blow. "I never stopped loving you."

It's too real. He's struggling and you can hear it in his voice. This was a bad idea. This is his wedding. You can feel your walls crumbling at his words, the things you’ve buried beneath the surface shaking loose, but you push it all back down. You have to.

"Don't," your voice cracks. You can't hear anything but your own words and your heartbeat. "Please don't."

The two of you stand there. Life keeps moving forward, people laughing, and you think the piano is going to start soon. It's going to mark Kelly's entrance. And Kelly's entrance it is, into Max's life. For good.

For good.

You have to walk away.

And you take that first step back, away from your first friend. The first thing in your life that fit like it was made for you; never to be broken apart.

It still doesn’t stop the ache in your chest, but it's the right thing.

Max breathes in behind you, such a staggered sound it could be a plea for help.

You move toward your seat, hoping he will not look upon this moment too badly. That one day, in the future, his anger will have left him and he will realize this was your last act of love: to help him, even when it means breaking his heart a little bit more.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lando and 1,792,164 others

f1gossipofficial: Lewis Hamilton was spotted this weekend in Monaco hanging out with Y/N L/N. They collaborated on Y/N's debut album, even sharing a kiss in the music video for "toxic to the end." Is a romance brewing? And how does Max Verstappen feel about all this?

tagged: yourinstagram, lewishamilton

view all 61,382 comments

user1: oh...max..

user2: oml he's literally MARRIED he's OVER. HER. it was four years ago. why does no one understand?

user3: this feels so intrusive but whatever. why are you taking pictures of them grocery shopping together 😭 let them live their life

user4: i love how lando is casually liking this.

user5: @/lando WHAT DO YOU KNOW lando: 🤐

user6: i literally said this as soon as the mv dropped. Y/N girl you have the sexist man alive as your friend MAKE A MOVE

user7: they have such good chemistry though!! did you see the rimowa interview??? same vibe, they're so adorable user8: so much better than her and max...am i right?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago hemsworthss

Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet calling it quits.

You might call me insane. You might say nothing official is out, but I think this might be true. As of October 2025:

Kelly unpinned both the pregnancy and the marriage announcement on her account. This is odd: she's had both up there since she made the posts. It probably isn't a matter of her clearing her feed or anything, because her Vogue shoot is still pinned. I looked for the post on her account and it was GONE. I looked for the pregnancy post on Max's account and she was no longer listed as a collaborator. Max was never a collaborator on the marriage announcement.

She's been posting a lot with P and the young 'un, but Max isn't in any of them. In his Team Redline streams, Max is always alone. Neither of his kids has appeared. Judging from the locations on her posts, she and her kids are on vacation in Europe.

Kelly wasn't at the last two Grand Prixes. She posted a story of her watching one on the couch but that was it. Neither of her kids were there, either.

Max has been posting more recently and he's been spending time with friends over family. Lando has him in a few dumps: playing paddle, Max even holding a guitar. Who plays guitar? Y/N L/N but that's not the point. Max is learning new hobbies and spending alone time.

I think I'm right. And if DeuxMoi has anything to say about a famous athlete/model couple filing for divorce, I'm placing my bets on Max and Kelly. Thoughts?

dannyric03: I don't want to believe it. He's so happy with the kids. Fatherhood suits him well.

↳ AppleBiter12: But fatherhood and marriage are different things. I thought maybe they got married because they thought the child would bring them closer. And it didn't.

hamiltons8th: I don't know. It seems debatable. Maybe they're just taking a break. It has been a stressful season so far.

↳ FantasyFox719: Right. But Max loves his kids, of course he'd want to spend time with him. I can't think of why he wouldn't spend his time between races (as he normally does) with his family instead of colleagues. ↳ hamiltons8th: @/FantasyFox719 Well him and Lando are best mates, something like that. I do think it's odd he's not with his kids. Maybe Kelly suggested it.

PeacockJazz450: Unrelated but did you see the news about Y/N and Lewis?

↳ hemsworthss: I did, actually. I think they're a very cute couple (if they're dating) that complement each other's personalies and goals very well. Lewis is very career-focused and so is Y/N. Love both of them lots. Even if they're friends I'm sure it's a great relationship. ↳ PeacockJazz450: @/hemsworthss Lol. I agree. Maybe Max crashed out after seeing that and decided he needed a break too 😂 There was this one tweet going around that was like "Imagine winning in Abu Dhabi 21 but losing the love of your life to the man you beat." ↳ hemsworthss: @/PeacockJazz450 Oh that's diabolical. Celebrity drama is bad enough but so many of the drivers are bops and their dating life is mildly concerning. Very interesting though. ↳ PeacockJazz450: @/hemsworthss At least Y/N hasn't dated anyone that we know of. I hope it folds out well.

ApplestoApples: if it's true that's such a shame. they've only been married for a year or so.

↳ 5_vettel: Agreed. But celebrity relationships never seem very stable.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kellypiquet has added to their stories

[ caption: family first 🧑‍🧒‍🧒 ]

replies:

user1: the one parent?? the two kids?? KELLY DID YOU SPLIT

user2: uh oh...

user3: max what did you do this time

user4: hope you're okay queen!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by ladygaga, lewishamilton and 3,184,932 others

yourinstagram: left the door open and this DIVA walked through 📢 "APT." is out now & you can watch it live at my burnout mini tour!!

🔗 tickets on sale at ynln.com/live

tagged: brunomars

user1: new album? y/n??

user2: BRUNO DELIVERED OH MY GOD

user3: first lewis now bruno how is she getting all these icons for collabs 😭 actually insane her team must be working overtime

brunomars: don't forget to drink dance shower and freak

user4: not him saying shower instead of smoke lolol bruno being a responsible man as always

user5: i hear the dating rumors

user6: max verstappen. did you see the kiss? i bet you saw the kiss

user7: watch him block you on insta user8: two more boys y/n has kissed now and none of them are called max verstappen!

user9: could not be more proud of you queen 🤍 from starting an acting career, to dropping an insane album, and to collaborating with huge artists. i'm sure you'll keep doing great things and no one can stop you. * liked by yourinstagram

user10: what does this mean for her and lewis ☹️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

TWO.

The crowd is still screaming as you scramble down the stairs, face flushed and out of breath. Sweat clings to your skin and your chest rises and falls, the adrenaline still coursing through you. Everything feels infinite, all the love shown out there drowning out your doubts and your past.

"Hell of a show you put out there, rockstar."

Lewis Hamilton leans against the table with your glass of water on it. His arms are crossed, an easy grin on his lips. He's dressed like he belongs here—which, admittedly, he now does.

He already knew about the concert: you couldn't wait to tell him when Bruno. Mars. Called. You. It wasn't exactly good timing, him just finishing the Mexico City Grand Prix the day before, but he came anyway. And dressed impeccably, at that.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing the glass. "You're just saying that because you got backstage treatment."

Lewis chuckles. "You know I mean it. You were unreal. When's the album coming out?"

"Hold on, hold on. Don't rush me. Give me a podium celebration first, will you?"

He tilts his head and you can't quite breathe. He says you were unreal but he's unreal. It still shakes you, sometime, how such a wonderful and caring and completely perfect man picked you to be his...friend.

You keep it at that word for now, but appreciate how good he looks with shades pushed back into his braids.

"Depends. You up for a champagne shower?"

Nothing flusters you like Lewis's quick wit.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. "Not in this dress, I’m not."

Lewis chuckles, his gaze lingering on you for half a second longer than necessary. "Shame. Would’ve been a pretty memorable moment. We'll have to reschedule."

You're aware of how close he is. How the conversation feels lighter than it should. How his presence is grounding in a way you don’t often get anymore. Your thoughts are wandering again, eyes tracing the curve of his mouth and—

The air shifts.

It’s subtle, like a drop in temperature. Like something's pressing against your ribs. You feel the presence and you know exactly what it is.

(Or maybe it's the fact that your team has gone completely silent. No more hurried congratulations and squeals in the background.)

Max.

He’s standing just a few steps away, lacking his usual Red Bull gear. His hair is all messed up, as if he got off a plane and came straight here. His jaw is set, his hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes flicking between you and Lewis. There’s something there—something simmering behind that calculated look of his.

Your grip tightens on the water bottle.

"Didn’t expect to see you here, Max." Your voice is even, but it takes effort.

He exhales sharply, shifting his weight. "You think I'd miss this?"

The words are simple, but the matter is not.

Lewis, ever observant, stays exactly where he is—relaxed but present. "Didn’t know you were a fan of good music, mate." His voice is smooth. Yet deliberate. You can't do this right now. Why does he have to show up whenever things in your life are getting good?

Max’s gaze flickers to Lewis, and for a second, something almost like amusement tugs at the corner of his mouth before disappearing just as quickly. "I've been listening for years."

It lands heavier than it should. Your pulse jumps and both of them are probably aware of it. Max isn't talking about the music.

Max’s eyes stay on you, searching. "You didn't think I'd come, did you?"

You exhale carefully. "I didn't...invite you."

Max’s jaw tightens. "Well. Here I am."

It's too much. The weight of his words, the way Lewis is next to you—grounding, solid, present—and Max is just there looking like he's trying to figure out how everything slipped through his fingers.

The air between the three of you stretches, taut and fragile. Max’s words still hang there—Well. Here I am.

You shift under Max’s stare, your grip tightening on the water bottle still in your hand. Your throat feels dry.

"What do you want me to say, Max? That I expected you to come? That I thought about it?"

Max exhales sharply. It pierces you like a knife. "I don’t know. Maybe." His voice is lower now, almost bitter. "You never wanted to talk about it."

His voice is rough when he speaks again. "Tell me you don’t think about it."

You are acutely aware of Lewis's presence, but Max is slowly taking over your thoughts.

You inhale sharply. It's all you can do. "Max—"

"Tell me you don’t wonder."

Your throat tightens.

You do. You have.

Some nights when the lights are off and the city finally shuts itself up, you let yourself think about it. About him and the moment he kissed you. The way his voice cracked when he said your name.

But you also remember the fear. The way you couldn't have let yourself fold—not then.

And now?

Now, Lewis is here. Steady and patient in ways Max never was. Lewis, who has never asked you for anything more than what you could give, who doesn’t need you to be anything other than what you already are. Lewis, who will let himself be just a friend. Lewis...

You glance at Lewis instinctively. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something softer in the way he looks at you. He understands.

This, Max notices.

His jaw clenches, the vein in his neck jumping. His hands curl into fists at his sides and then relax so fast you could've missed it. Is it for show, all of this? Does he want you to think he cares or not? He exhales, looking away for a brief second. Just enough to compose himself. When he looks back, something about him is more guarded.

"Right," Max says, much quieter. He nods, more to himself than to you. "I get it."

But the problem is that you don’t think he does.

Despite everything, despite Lewis, despite the way you had chosen to walk away.

You still...

Max lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Right. Because it’s never the time, is it?"

Not this. You flinch, because he's right. You don't want to talk about it. How he kissed you, drunk but so eerily sober in the way all his thoughts came out at once. The weight of everything in between the two of you spilled over, something you weren't ready for. About how, even now, sometimes you catch yourself missing him before you remind yourself why you had to leave.

The fear is back.

Your whole life had began to shift, focusing on you. Y/N L/N, rising actress. People talked about you...and your friendship with Max. What it was. And if you had let yourself feel something for him—if you had let yourself fall—what would have been left of you?

"There was nothing to talk about," you say. It's hollow, like another word could crush it into smithereens.

Max's mouth purses into a thin line. "That’s bullshit. You know it."

You're too aware of the people in the room, again.The way Lewis is still there, watching but not interrupting, not yet. The way Max is standing too close, and yet not close enough.

You shake your head, only able to reiterate all the things you've already told him. "This isn't the time for this."

Lewis shifts beside you then, speaking for the first time in minutes. He's had enough. His voice is calm, smooth, but there’s something sharper beneath it. Water over rocks, threatening to split the waves any minute. "If you're looking for something from her, maybe you should ask yourself why you didn’t do it when it actually mattered."

Max turns to Lewis, his posture stiffening. There's a respect between the two, but spite typically taints it. Now? No malice—just frustration, just regret. Just something ugly and old between all of you.

You close your eyes for half a second, steadying yourself. When you open them, Max is looking at you again, waiting.

But he’s always been waiting, hasn't he?

And you?

You’ve always been running. From what? you wonder now. From something real?

Something has changed. Now you're not sure if you're tired of running or just afraid of what happens when you stop.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kellypiquet and maxverstappen have added to their stories

replies:

user1: so it was true??

user2: praying for you kelly <3

user3: 5 bucks it has to do with y/n and whatever he did when he showed up at her concert

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

THREE.

The coffee shop is cozy, the kind of place you go when you want to be alone with your thoughts. You're sitting at a corner table, flipping through your phone. Doomscrolling, they call it.

It’s been a while since you last saw Max—months, maybe. His divorce from Kelly was all over the media, and yet, here you are, sitting in the same coffee shop as him. The silence is louder than any of the questions you had when the news first broke.

You didn’t expect to run into him today.

You'd also thought you were over all of it. Buried, deep down. But when his voice meets your ears, it's all coming back.

"You still like this place, huh?" Max sounds like he's been thinking about his question for a while.

Glancing up, surprise flickers across your face. "Max...didn't expect to see you here."

He stands there for a moment, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. You feel the awkward tension rising like steam from your mug.

“You’re hard to avoid these days,” Max says, his words coming out almost casually. "Guess we keep bumping into each other."

You raise an eyebrow, setting your phone down. “We never really bumped into each other before.”

Max’s lips tighten for a moment. Caught. “No. I guess we haven't."

Neither of you move. Then, Max steps forward, hesitating just slightly before sitting across from you.

“Nice seeing you. Didn't expect it to be here."

You nod slowly, unsure of how to respond. "Yeah...well, things change."

Vulnerably flickers in his eyes. You haven't seen that in a while. "They do," he agrees.

It's unfinished, this mess between you.

"I know things got complicated," Max continues. "I shouldn't have pushed you. I didn't mean to make it worse but I did."

You want to say something—anything. But the words are stuck. Everything: the kiss, the distance, all the memories you've shared. They're all under the surface, waiting for someone to make sense of it all.

Instead, you try to find your footing. "Max...what are we even doing here?"

Something like the Max you used to know. He's less guarded, less distant. "I don't know. But I don't want things to be like this. No forever."

You swallow hard. You want to respond, but there's too much going on in your head.

Max breaks the silence. Again. This time, he's more quiet. "So, what about him? Lewis?"

The way he says it makes you wonder. Jealousy? Not that, he's past that. But it's a question wrapped in old pain. He wants to know. He always has.

You lean back in your chair, letting out a soft sigh. "What about him?"

Max’s eyes are searching. "You're...close. Do you, I don't know, care about him?"

The answer isn't as simple as either of you would like it to be. There's a part of you that wants to spill out all the feelings. That you don't know. Still don't.

"He's good to me. I don't know what else you want me to say."

It's not the answer he wants to hear, but he nods anyway. "Yeah, I get it."

The past is complicated, and the present is no less so. There's a peace with Lewis. But Max...Max has a way of making everything feel unresolved.

You bite your lip, unsure if you should talk more. You want to say something that makes sense, that will give both of you the closure you need. The truth is, there's too much unsaid. Unresolved. It's sitting there, loose strings and all.

"Maybe we never had the chance to figure it out. It wasn't just about what we felt, Max. It was everything else too."

His expression tightens. Like the words aren't forming right. The old ache is there in his words, in his face. They never healed. "I was an idiot, wasn't I?" he mutters.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on that when he's already beat himself up for half a decade. "We were both...confused. We had different things to figure out."

You can't place the look in his eyes. "Maybe. But I was never just confused about you. I was scared of losing it all. Of losing what we could've had."

It hits you in the chest. Then, the words come out before you can stop them. "Max...we shouldn't leave it like this. I don't want to leave it. Again."

"So what does that mean?" His voice is hopeful, though he has his doubts.

It won't be the same. That's impossible.

"I don't know. We'll have to figure it out." You hesitate before taking out your phone. "Maybe we can...talk more. Not lose touch again."

A smile breaks across his face, though he tries to hide it. "That sounds good. I'd like that."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

did you like this? i wanna make a part three. it's like...closure but not completely, you know? there's still a lot for them to deal with and also lewis! beautiful beautiful lewis! messy max or lovely lewis ? 🤨

#max verstappen x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #x reader #x you #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 x you

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4rticbolt · 2 days ago

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Card DECLINED |Master-List|

Monster Trio+Law x !Fem!Reader, crack, fluff, modern-au, poor core (real), cashier is going THROUGH IT, !Early-relationship! , Ugh I thought this was so adorable, might be my favorite so far

They take you on a date and there card declines in-front of you...

Lemme know if I should do a fic for one of em' :)! (And spelling mistakes)

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

Luffy

100% bought it all on fast food, he holds a Guinness World Record for the most amount of food eaten, period.

Would be confused at first, and wouldn't get it till you finally told him somethings wrong with his card. He about shoved it in there 100x times...

"HAH!? Why's it not working!''

"Wait huh seriously? Aww man..."

He'd definitely apologize and laugh it off. But he'd silent judge his card for failing him now as he attempted to finally buy you something. He ould definitely go and text Nami to Venmo him some quick money for you--in which she'd automatically decline.

(Much like his card)

Your bf would grumble, but he'd be quick to mask it with his short attention span.

He ended up dragging you into another random store after finding a whopping 5 bucks on the ground, sopping wet and crumpled from the rain... But somehow the cashier accepted it out of pity and he'd managed to buy you a little doodad in exchange--coming up behind you with a surprise in hand.

He giddily spun you around gleaming with excitement as he pecked you on the cheek.

"Shisihi, look what I got youuu! It's awesome"

(It was a crooked hot-wheels, but you ended up putting it on your shelf to cherish it)

Zoro

Sake was his downfall. Alcohol as we all know is incredibly expensive so it wasn't even a surprise, you expected it to eventually happen with how much he loved his booze...

Moreover you'd think it was a turn off with all his bottles but he'd always been a responsible drinker, and he barely got drunk...maybe a few times if he'd finally eased up in your arms.

Though when he swiped his card, it hadn't gone through. He'd pause and play it off a first, trying again, but when the cashier finally told him their were insufficient funds he'd go beet red.

"I don't know what you're talking about, it's gotta be your stupid machine..."

Not slick, at. all.

He'd act dense abt it, though deep down he knew he royally fucked up, so much for a romantic date...

When you finally offered to pay, he stubbornly grumbled as you had placed some spare cash on the counter.

"Oi, You didn't have to do that..."

He wouldn't immediately say thank you, but he'd been quietly grateful you were smart to bring 'just in case' cash... which he'd also said wasn't necceasry... but look what happened.

You tended to be right in these scenarios.

Eventually, a few days later he'd begrudgingly said thank you and handed you some floppy but colorful flowers as he had randomly stopped by your house to work.

Coincidently getting lost, but he'd never admit it.

The offering was rather chaotic as you'd just gotten out of the shower, but it only made him more flustered.

"Didn't uh, mean to interrupt, just wanted to drop these off. And thank you for the other day."

Sanji

I physically cannot see this man's card declining, so he had probably used the wrong card...

But even if he did I could see him full on freaking out, like telling the cashier to run it again and crossing his arms as his fingers anxiously tapped on his arm. He almost went to call his bank until he realized it wasn't his main card and his embarrassed meter went through the roof.

He went pink, but as you offered to pay he immediately shut it down. Sanji would never let you pay for anything, he wanted to take care of you and spoil you like no other--so forget asking. Even if you weren't that far along in dating.

He'd rather search the floor for pennies than letting you pay.

Though if you did somehow manage to pay, he'd pay you back beyonddd extra. Like I'm talking about full on flowers and little chocolates or anything romantic you could imagine...

Even if you thought it was rude to accept, he'd quickly assure you it was okay and that 'he wanted to' so it didn't matter if it was 'payback' or not. He'd came over to hand out and he'd gently grab your hand kissing it as he spoke with gentle words.

"My love, just take it please, it'd mean the world to me."

Law

Law's card wouldn't normally decline, but one of his transactions for his action figure(s) had finally come through and he didn't realized it till he'd taken you out for lunch.

The waiter had handed him back his card and he deadpanned for a moment--before telling them to try it again--but hopelessly it didn't make a difference. And to make things better the waiter outright said he was broke and needed a different form of payment.

Law would loathe the moment, feeling second-hand embarrassment for miles as he brooded wishing it happened anywhere else no mattering the time.

He'd be in embarrassed, growing quiet with a darkened expression as he averted his gaze. And it only intensified when you happily handed the waiter your card, assuring him it wasn't the end of the world... and that you were just happy to be here with him.

He had gone increasingly quiet, and you couldn't help but laugh as he covered his face with the tilt of his infamous hat.

"L-Let's just go."

This man would NEVER let it happen again, and he'd carefully watch his guilty spending habits with a sour expression. The thought of that moment practically kept him up at night.

Law didn't pay you back, but he'd taken a little time off work to spend more quality time with you as that seemed to make you happy. And your doctor-in-training wanted nothing more than to see your smile.

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vigilante-3073 · 2 days ago

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Honey & Lemon

Draco Malfoy x Female Hufflepuff Reader

Summary: Draco Malfoy has always longed to be loved and accepted. As he falls in love with Y/N, a studious young Hufflepuff, he starts to wonder if his happy ending may be closer than he could've expected.

TW: Lovesick Draco, kissing, hand holding, jokes.

Draco Malfoy met Y/N L/N when he was in his third year at Hogwarts. If he had to be completely honest, he didn't know that she existed before she stood in front of him after their Potions class that day.

Y/N had always been a good student but she had a lot of trouble with Potions. Y/N had gone to Professor Snape for help and he sent her to Draco for some tutoring. Draco was at the top of the class and Y/N could learn a lot from him.

"Hello," Y/N said softly, holding her books close to her chest as she stood in front of his lab table.

Draco glanced at Blaise before looking up at the Hufflepuff girl, "Can I help you?" He asked, not bothering to hide his disinterest.

"I've been having some difficulty in this class and Professor Snape recommended that I speak to you about possibly receiving some assistance," She said.

Draco straightened in his seat at the mention of the Professor, "What's your name?" Draco questioned.

"Y/N L/N," She replied.

"Alright, Y/N, bring your supplies to the library after dinner tonight. I'll meet you there," Draco said.

She smiled, "Thank you," Y/N said quickly before making her way out of the classroom.

Draco watched her leave, the smell of her perfume lingering even after she had disappeared out the door. The scent was light and warm with notes of vanilla and citrus.

"You're tutoring Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy?" Blaise questioned with a smirk.

"Shut up," Draco snapped, gathering his supplies.

Draco and Y/N met in the twice a week and she eventually began to get the hang of some potions. She still struggled, but she was much better off than she had been.

Y/N wanted to learn and it frustrated her that she wasn't picking it up like everything else. Draco almost found it humorous, seeing such a sickly sweet person be anything other than delightfully pleasant.

As their potions class approached its final days, Draco found himself disappointed. He had grown quite fond of Y/N during their time together and he wasn't ready to see it end.

They sat in the classroom for their final tutoring session, brewing the last potion that he would assist her with. Y/N was focused on her textbook, following the directions carefully and adding each ingredient to the bubbling cauldron.

She dropped the final item into the liquid, taking a breath as she stirred the potion. A victorious smile appeared on her face as the liquid changed to the desired color, a bright and beautiful green.

"I did it," She said, looking to Draco.

He watched her with a soft smile, "It's like you don't even need me anymore," He teased.

"Of course I need you, silly. I wouldn't have known how to prepare half the ingredients otherwise," Y/N said, sitting down in the chair beside him.

"You would've figured it out. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for," Draco said.

"Thank you... That means a lot," She replied softly.

"I was wondering, since classes are almost over... Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me after exams?" Draco asked.

"Really? You'd want to go with me?" Y/N asked.

"I would... I actually have a bit of crush on you if I'm being honest," Draco said, fidgeting with his quill.

"You do?" She asked, a smile slowly appearing on her face.

"Yeah," He stated.

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Draco," She replied.

...

From that day forward, Y/N and Draco were inseparable. They continued to study and work on assignments together, he walked her to all of her classes and snuck over to the Hufflepuff table to sit with her during meals.

If the teachers noticed, none of them said anything. Y/N was good for Draco and her companionship had changed him.

Draco was kinder, the vicious jabs he often slung at other students had dwindled and the difference was definitely noticeable. Draco was absolutely smitten, devoting all of his extra time to Y/N.

Y/N made him happy.

Draco had never experienced real happiness in his life and it made him value what Y/N brought to his life so much more. Draco had only ever known pain, violence, disappointment and loss.

His father held him to an incredibly high standard that he had never been able to meet. Draco strived to be the greatest, but always found himself finishing in second or third place.

It made him angry and he chose to lash out at those around him. Y/N exuded warmth, kindness and love every single day, Draco found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Draco considered himself to be blessed when Y/N woke up every morning and chose to spend her time with him. He was lucky to have her by his side and he knew that.

Draco was determined to keep her existence a secret from his father for as long as possible. Draco had talked about Y/N with Narcissa and she was excited to meet the girl, but allowed Draco to decide if and when they would be introduced.

He wanted to keep this one good thing untainted, even if it was just for a little while.

Draco didn't know what he would do if his father ordered him to break up with her. He couldn't do it, not to Y/N. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Y/N had introduced him to her parents briefly when they met at the train station at the end of their third year. They were delighted to meet him, welcoming him with opening arms after everything their daughter had told them.

Draco had never seen Y/N's cheeks go so red and he couldn't help but smile, taking her hand in his. Y/N's mother had even made him a batch of cookies, promising to send more if he enjoyed them.

Her parents were just as warm and kind as Y/N and he fell for her even harder. He felt lucky to be accepted into such a beautiful family, especially since they knew who he was. Or more importantly, who his father was.

People tended to judge him without getting to know him because of who his parents were and he didn't blame them. He hadn't done much to establish a good image for himself, but he was working on it.

Y/N made him want to work on it.

Draco was beginning to think that he had gotten away with keeping Y/N's existence a secret until the start of his fourth year. Lucius insisted on taking Draco to Diagon Alley to shop for his fourth year supplies. Draco kept his head on a swivel, hoping to spot Y/N before she saw him if she was out shopping.

He was embarrassed, but not of her, his father tended to blurt out rude comments that left an awful taste in people's mouths. Draco hoped to avoid the interaction, he didn't want Y/N to endure any of his father's abuse.

"Draco!" Y/N called, he immediately froze and his body tensed.

Y/N made her way through the crowd with her parents following closely behind her. She wrapped her arms around Draco and he quickly returned her embrace. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her perfume to steady himself before letting her go.

"How was your holiday?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"It was good. How was yours?" He questioned.

"Fantastic! I got a lot of new books that I can't wait to share with you," Y/N said.

"Hopefully you got a few on Potions because you are still just awful at that?" Draco teased.

"I did actually. I've been reading up over the break so hopefully I'll be able to teach you something this time around," Y/N replied.

"I look forward to hearing all about it," Draco smiled.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" Lucius questioned.

Draco's smile fell, "This is my girlfriend, Y/N... Y/N, I'd like you to meet my mother and father," Draco said.

"Nice to finally meet you both, Mister and Missus Malfoy," Y/N greeted.

"You as well, dear, I've heard a lot of good things," Narcissa smiled.

"How long has this been going on?" Lucius asked.

"Since last year, father," Draco admitted.

Lucius' eyes flickered over Y/N's form before looking behind her at her parents, "You should be focusing on your studies, Draco, not gallivanting around with a Hufflepuff," He spat, scowling at the young girl.

Y/N tensed, "We actually met when Professor Snape chose your son to be my tutor in Potions. Respectfully, you can't get any higher than top of the class, Sir" Y/N said.

A tense silence settled between them before Lucius replied, "A Hufflepuff with a backbone... I suppose there's a first time for everything," He stated, walking off and into the next store.

Narcissa sighed, "It was nice to meet you, dear," She said with a smile.

"You too, Ma'am," Y/N replied.

Narcissa introduced herself to Y/N's parents before following her husband into the store.

"Darling, we're just going to head into Flourish and Blotts. You can meet us there in a bit, alright?" Her mother questioned.

"Sounds good, mum," Y/N replied with a smile.

The couple quickly disappeared into the crowd, allowing Draco and Y/N to spend a moment alone.

"I'm so sorry for my father. I knew he'd be like that and I tried to keep him away from you," Draco said, holding her hand in both of his.

"You don't have to apologize, Draco. He's your father and I would've needed to meet him sooner or later," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He nodded.

"Your mum is really nice," Y/N said.

Draco huffed a laugh with a smile, "Yeah, she's been wanting to meet you for a long time," He said.

"How long is a long time?" Y/N asked.

"I wrote to her after our first tutoring session in the library. I really liked you," Draco admitted.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, his eyes drifted shut and his hands shifted to hold her hips. She pulled away and his eyes fluttered open, leaning his forehead against her's with a soft exhale.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," He said, lifting his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I feel the same way about you," Y/N smiled.

...

The time for the Triwizard Championship had arrived and the competitors were selected from the Goblet of Fire. Of course, by some random burst of impossibly bad luck, Harry Potter's name flew out of the goblet and into Dumbledore's hand.

Draco attended the events with Y/N by his side, the amount of risk involved with the competition made her nervous. Her nerves just meant that she held on tighter to Draco so he couldn't complain.

Draco was excited when the time came for the Yule Ball, he asked Y/N to be his date the minute it was announced and she couldn't keep the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Draco offered to pay for her dress, but Y/N brushed him off and assured him that she already had the perfect gown.

Y/N couldn't have been more right.

Draco was absolutely awestruck when he saw her making her way down the stairs on the evening of the Ball. She was wearing a floor-length gown made of lace and silk with her hair done perfectly to match.

Y/N looked like a princess and Draco was completely speechless.

"You look absolutely stunning," He finally managed, taking her hand as she made her way down the staircase. His thumb absent-mindedly ran across her knuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from her form.

"Thank you. You look handsome," Y/N replied.

"I'm glad you think so," He smiled, looping her arm through his and resting his hand over her's on his bicep as they walked into the Great Hall.

It was a wonderful night, they danced for hours before Draco led her away from the crowd, "Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned.

"I love you," Draco stated.

Y/N smiled widely, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him. Draco rested his hands on her waist, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I love you too, Draco," Y/N replied.

They spent the rest of the Ball together before the students began to disperse. Draco walked Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her shoes dangled from her fingers, her other hand holding onto Draco's as they walked through the castle.

Draco's bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. He glanced behind him when the voices and laughter of other students fell silent.

Draco slowed to a stop, still holding onto his girlfriend's hand, "Hold on for a second," Draco said.

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him "Is everything alright?" She asked.

"I've been waiting to get you alone all night long," Draco said.

Y/N smiled, "And what did you have in mind now that you have me, Mister Malfoy?" She asked.

"Oh, I don't know, but I certainly won't be keeping a very respectable distance if that's alright with you," Draco said, resting his hands on her hips while backing her into the stone wall.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, "I don't mind at all," She replied.

Draco leaned in, pressing his lips to her's as her hand tangled in his hair, manicured fingernails scratching gently at his scalp.

His arm slid around her waist, large palm pressing against the small of her back and pulling her body closer to himself. His thumb traced over her hip bone, grip tightening as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Y/N moaned softly into the kiss, tugging gently on his hair.

The couple pulled apart quickly as someone cleared their throat. Draco wiped her lipstick from his bottom lip with his thumb as Y/N tried to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast.

"Helping Miss L/N return to her dormitory are you, Mister Malfoy?" Snape questioned.

"Yes, Sir," Draco replied.

"No snogging in the hallways," Snape stated, walking off down the hallway.

Draco burst out laughing as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

Y/N smiled, swatting his chest, "That was not funny, Draco! I'm absolutely mortified," She scolded half-heartedly.

"Of all the people in the world who could have possibly caught us snogging," Draco laughed with a shake of his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they continued on their way to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

They arrived at the entrance to her dorm far too soon for Draco's liking. He watched her input the password before the door opened.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Draco," Y/N said.

"I did too," He nodded.

"I love you," She smiled, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her skin gently.

Y/N pulled away and he smiled down at her, "I love you too," He said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N stepped away from him, "Sleep well, Draco," She said softly.

"You too," He replied, watching her step into her dormitory.

The door closed behind her and Draco walked back to the Slytherin dormitory with a smile on his face. He got changed, flopping back onto his bed with a happy sigh.

Draco looked over at his nightstand, there was a picture of him and Y/N. They were talking, she laughed at something he said and he just smiled at her.

It was his absolute favorite picture of them.

The picture made him think about what his life could be like, he could see a future with Y/N and he wanted it more than anything.

Draco wanted Y/N more than anything.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #hogwarts #hermione granger #ron weasley #albus dumbledore

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tsuyalovebot · 9 hours ago

Text

don't make me wait forever.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

cw: sfw. semi-prominent reader characterization (spoiled, occasional use of she/her pronouns, referred to as a "little sister" once). kisses. casual touches. throat holding (both by reader and by caleb). use of "older brother" to address caleb (not by reader). pipsqueak as a term of endearment. reader wears makeup. some spoilers from tender moments, memoria, and bond story. caleb typical warnings (manipulation if you squint).

wc: roughly 3-4k words. unnecessary word vomit.

author's note: a man who yearns is a man who EARNS. hi, it's me again! i had an idea and had to bring it to life. enjoy! ( ^ -. ^ )

Caleb wasn't lying when he said he spoiled you too much as children.

You didn't quite get it at first—he was nothing but sweet with the occasional menace during childhood, sure, but he didn't spoil you spoil you.

You were leaning into his chest, eyes closed while listening to the TV in the background as his large arm wraps itself around your waist. Tucking you against him, feeling his lips against the crown of your head.

"I baby you too much," he sighed, a mellow cheeriness beneath his words.

"And yet, you sound so happy over it," you grumbled. Sleep is so close yet so far, and you'd been squirming around in search of the closest boarding gate. His touch delicate as he pulled you onto his lap.

You snuggled closer on instinct. Picking up on the faint smell of sandalwood and something finer, richer. There was movement on your back, Caleb's palm stroking up and down, while the other held you by the back of your neck like an infant.

"I spoiled you, too."

You frowned, looked at him blearily. "Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh." He pushed your head back onto his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

Sure, Caleb took extensive measures to ensure your comfortable upbringing with him. But you weren't spoiled.

Right?

But you go on your first date with someone that isn't him, and it kind of hits. Making an offhanded comment about how the water temperature was more cold than warm—you asked for room temp—doesn't result in your date immediately requesting another glass or them buying you bottled water from the convenience store across the restaurant.

Instead, you're told, "they probably forgot, it's fine" and the date continues. You watch the condensation form on your glass quietly. Every rational droplet is speaking to your acrid gut feeling—it's just water. It'll be room temperature eventually.

Later on, your date messages you. They asked if you got home safely, all the while you'd been drinking a glass of lukewarm water in Caleb's dining room. You pressed block once you heard his familiar, curious voice asking how the date went.

"It was meh." And you asked for another glass.

Another time, you'd been hanging out with old high school friends as a simple gathering. Though, you hadn't expected that it would lead to seemingly endless anecdotes in relation to you. Over fruit smoothies and café pastries, they'd all been exchanging stories once the conversation turns over to yourself in high school.

"Remember when she would always ask us to do stuff?" One girl laughed, cutting into her french toast.

Another cleared her throat, exaggerating her voice into a falsetto, "hey, can you get me a bun from the cafeteria? Oh, there's no more? Then, a banana milk and whatever pastry they have."

It earned a crackle of laughter along the table of five people. You, the object of discussion, smiling at the head of the table. Rather awkwardly, too, as you sipped on your drink.

"You forgot to add on the "you can do that at least, right?" at the end!"

"Oh, oh, the sulking too, if you don't do it!"

"She'd always complain about our fans, too."

"Oh my God, yeah. "Why does your fan battery run out so quickly? Did you not charge it?" Like, hello?"

One of the girls face you amidst the active exchange, grinning. Despite the recollection of your nature in the past, they weren't mad. Simply taking the entertainment value in it.

"Don't worry," and she said your name, placing a hand over yours on the table.

"You've got an older brother, right? It may have been annoying, but we're friends. You were like, our little sister."

A muscle in your jaw ticked. His face popped up in your face and you wanna punch him, despite him being nowhere near you at the time of this event. But, you laughed and nodded; acquiescing to her reassurance was easier this way.

It slipped out once more when you go out for movies with Tara. It's the same theater you and Caleb always frequented before. You already swiped your card for payment of movie food, and had besn walking to the screening room.

"Tara, can you check the bucket? Make sure it has enough butter on it?"

"Hm? Okay," she replied. While you scrolled on your phone, you heard the plastic lid of the bucket pop open.

"Seems good to me. You check."

When you move your attention over to the bucket, you're met with mediocre-looking buttered popcorn. The golden syrup of butter scattered over the pieces. You frowned. Since when were they so shy about buttering literal corn?

You stopped walking, brows furrowed. "It's so... pale. Let's go back and ask for more, I didn't pay for that."

"Huh? Oh, okay?" You didn't really register Tara's confused tone of voice until after you had a spat with the person at the popcorn station.

It was some moody teen probably working minimum wage. He was scowling while you talked about the butter portioning.

He sneered, "over some popcorn? Really? Were you that spoiled as a kid?"

It winded you. Tara was pulling at your arm, seeming to try and hold you back despite you being frozen. The manager came out once the commotion seems to stop, only because you were gobsmacked.

He'd been apologizing profusely to you and Tara upon recognizing you both as hunters; his eyes had landed on you with so much familiarity. He's probably been working here for a decade or so. Long enough to have previously seen you and Caleb at movie screenings.

Tara's at the butter dispenser of the self-service station—something they closed over half a decade ago apparently, but frantically opened for today, coincidentally—with you behind her when she finally spoke

She was a bit bewildered, but it was easy to pick up the lighthearted tone. "I didn't take you for the pampered type. That was the normal amount of butter on popcorn for most places."

You shook your head. "No, it wasn't. I was a regular here in the past. Every time we got a bucket of popcorn, they were always so generous with the salted butter."

"By yourself?"

"No, with my friend."

There'd been a pause between you two. She pressed the lid back into place and begun shaking it, the popcorn rattling. Then, she turned to you, like she knew something that you didn't.

"And you never once thought this friend scared the employees into putting extra butter for you back then?"

It always went back to him.

Whenever you'd go to a colleague's place and bore holes into the crooked cuts of the apple slices on a plate, you found yourself recalling Caleb's expert cuts. These ones weren't even red delicious apples.

You're a bit peeved when the food from the monthly catering service at the Association doesn't taste the same way that Caleb makes it, even though the food is the same kind and recipe.

Your next trip to Skyhaven is definitely highly anticipated. You're been exhausted and haggard for the past few days. It only amplifies as the day stretches on, grimacing when Caleb opens the door. He's surprised to see you, panting and sweaty in his white tanktop. Fresh from a workout, most likely. It makes you a bit, a tiny bit, mad.

"Pipsqueak? What's the occasion?"

"You," you hiss, releasing your hold on your suitcases. You kick off your shoes as you push your way into his place, pointing an accusing finger to his chest.

Caleb's confused. It's clear in the furrow of his brow and frantic blinking that his synapses are doing rapid fire checking of what today is, what he's said or done recently, what stores are on sale, and what snacks you need.

Despite being the one who said he himself spoiled you, he clearly has no idea how it's manifested in your life, and it pisses you off even more.

"I'm the occasion?" He squawks, confused. "It's too early for my birthday—"

"You and your stupid past self. I should have your head on a stake," you bark, slamming your fists onto his pecs, pushing him further into his own home.

He laughs a bit, still completely in the dark, but his voice gets a bit more pitchy.

He leans down, cranes his gargantuan ass down to your height. It's polite. You know this, he's done it countless times. But your gut speaks to you. You're going to throttle him.

"Huh? What did I do?"

"You piss me off!"

His face softens with concern. His hands come up, ghosting over yours. He murmurs your name—

Then you're gripping him by the neck. You get to drink in the way his eyes widen to saucers as your fingers delicately wrap around his throat, palms on either side. You don't squeeze, and instead, aggressively shake him. "Pipsqueak?"

"You spoiled me!" You shriek, voice shrill with accusation.

Frustration, the buildup from the past couple of weeks comes to full fruition in this very moment. It's only for a split second that you see realization dawn on Caleb's face before you continue yelling.

"I relied on others to get me snacks because of you, I complain over batteries because of you, now I want specific water temperatures, I can't stand pale popcorn because you demanded extra butter, I'm picky over food—"

"Hey—"

"Don't you hey me, mister!" You jut your finger up at his face, and he shuts his mouth instantly. "I'm like this, because of you!"

You don't miss the glitter of mirth in those stupidly ethereal eyes of his, and it's wholly unreal how your anger amplifies when you notice his twitching lips. He found this funny.

"You're laughing?" You whisper, low and indignant. You squeeze his throat, feel his breath pass under the skin. Adrenaline riveting and real in the low thrum of your heartbeat.

"I'm here, devastated over the effect of your stupid actions on my life, and you're laughing?"

"Devastated?" Caleb echoes. The idiot sounded delighted over this. Like he was finding a great deal of validation in your admission.

A grin quirks his lips into its signature, charming curve, and he's leaning down into you some more. One of his hands sliding over yours with a gentleness only he could emulate. Your resolve stutters, and he's quick to take advantage of that.

"Oh, please, pipsqueak." He chuckles. "That's not true and you know it."

His fingers gently slide between the gaps of yours, making room for himself and filling the emptiness. Effectively peeling them away from his throat, and doing the same to the other hand. You relent, letting your arms hang loosely at your sides.

Caleb's still smiling when he takes a step forward, crowding your space now. It doesn't register that he's cornered you until your back is flat to the closed door and you're surrounded by him and everything about him.

The very man who's fed you every granule, acquainted you with the taste of having the world at your every whim. A charged zap runs up the base of your spine when he lifts your chin.

"If you were really devastated, you'd have come here cryin' instead. You'd be on your knees, weepin' over how I've ruined you. Not yelling and screaming and accusing me," he coos, sickly sweet. His thumb rubbing below your lower lip.

"Are you done? Do you feel better after getting it all off your chest?"

His gaze feels abysmal. Two pools of an oceanic depth, spatial and intergalactic and beyond your comprehension. Hungry.

Something darker lurks there. That one look that flickers in and out of conversations whenever you're close to him, or when the topic tilts into something that you know you shouldn't be touching. Like he's satiated, but still craving more and more. You feel small under it every time.

"Even a kid knows how to manipulate their guardian into givin' them what they want."

The double meaning, one of comparing you to an immature brat, isn't lost on you. Heat crawls up your skin as your cheeks round with the scrunch of your nose. Ready to retaliate with equal venom, even if his words weren't inherently insulting.

But, before you even could, the expression on his face stops you in your tracks.

It's like looking at the colonel. Caleb cocks his head to the side, expression clinically cold. "When someone is speaking, we?"

He stares. He's waiting for a response, you realize.

You finish his sentence, pacified. "We listen."

"Good. Seems you still have the manners I taught you."

Your face heats up.

That stupidly patient smile on his lips was grating on your nerves, far more than any revelation of his ingrained presence in your every action, thought, word, and emotion.

His thumb is soon pressed flush to your lips. He isn't prying it open like he did before, instead rubbing the pad of his thumb along your lips, caressing the divot of your cupid's bow. He's playing with the glossy texture and film of your lippie, smearing it past the corner of your lips.

The first thing you want to do is push him away. Shove him, hard, and make space between the two of you so that your train of thought could return. Yet, the softness that decorates his grape-colored irises was making you hesitate. He's an annoying guy, someone who gets on your nerves, with featherlight caresses and an admiration so sincere.

Rouge stains the pad of his digit when he draws it back. He's curious, his gaze thoughtful as he examines the pigment. Then, you're watching as he lifts it to his mouth with a deliberate kiss. Lashes fluttering over his cheekbones.

When he drops his hand, the scarlet pigment is smeared over his lips like a brand.

You're burning alive. You reach up, immediately trying to wipe it from his lips. "You—"

"Weirdo? I know." Caleb catches your hand with ease, beaming with half-lidded eyes. "Buuut, you're just as weird as me for lettin' me do that, y'know."

He's making a point. You're going to gut him alive, you think to yourself. In stealing an indirect kiss from you, he's replicating every scenario you've ever bared yourself to him. How easy it is, to melt in one's earnest wonder and affection, unable to say no.

In an attempt to regain your composure, you scowl with all the feigned vitriol you could muster. "You're even weirder for condoning my every action."

He cocks his head, like he was reloading a couple memories from the past. The countless times he let you get away with things.

"It's... not that easy for me, pipsqueak."

"Yes, it is." You huff and free your hand from his grip. Settling your palms flat over his chest, fingers curling into the stretchy fabric. "Telling me no couldn't have been that hard."

"Yeah?" He teases. "You think it's that simple for me?"

"Grandma could handle me."

Caleb deadpans at your mention of her, his face relaxing into something like bemusement.

"If Gran or I took away your stuffed animal to clean it, you'd kick and scream and cry. If I denied you of your favorite food or a candy apple, you'd say you hate me."

You blink. That wasn't the response you were expecting. All of a sudden, you feel like someone's wiped your mind of everything you've ever known, and redefined your recollections of childhood. Embarrassment crawls up your face in burning streaks.

"Gran could handle you?" He repeats, shakes his head with a sad look.

There's a pained aspect to his current physiognomy, the furrow of his brow, the deepened set of his mouth. "That's because it's her. Of course, she wouldn't mind your cries. But I did."

He crouches, and for a moment, it was as if he was falling. The sunlight filtered in through the glass of the door behind your head, catching on the nutty brown strands of his hair. Cradling his head against the junction of your neck and shoulder, hiding away his face.

"I didn't want you to hate me." He admits, the words fanned over your throat. You inhale deeply, and his familiar scent invades your senses. You hope that stupid central organ wasn't too loud, or else he'd hear the beating of your pulse working double time.

Caleb's a constant in your life. He was a pillar, from youth 'til now, that never failed to offer you assistance regardless of the circumstances. You knew him to be reliable, persistent, generous. Perhaps it plays into the way he's coated your teeth in sugar, nipping at your enamel in a thick film that tastes of sweetness.

Yet seeing him like this, frustrated and amused and annoyed—it was unfounded.

"I didn't know much." The vulnerability was low yet blaring. "I just knew I didn't want you to hate me. I knew I loved seeing you happy. And if I denied you, you weren't happy."

It's too black and white. So childish and simplified. It's an easygoing description of his feelings toward you during early youth, one that could easily be swallowed up and consumed by the nasty nature of the world.

Yet, you card your fingers through his hair. Press your lips to his temple all the same, and listen to his utterances.

Your bottom lip is jutting out before you can stop yourself. And in spite of his own admissions, the uncomfortable nakedness that comes with it, you mumble a pointed, "you made me high maintenance."

"You're only figurin' that out now?" He snickers against your skin and the subsequent vibrations make you jump. "Pipsqueak, everyone's known you're high maintenance."

You protest, "that's not true."

"Yes," he says, amused. "It is."

Peeling away from your neck, Caleb's face is less grave now. Relief floods your senses and you cup his face, smoothing over the corners of his lip to wipe away the frowns. There's a weight behind you that isn't the door, his palm a welcome touch as his fingers splay over the small of your back.

His other hand resting on the side of your throat, fingers resting on your nape and thumb rubbing the ridge of your jaw. The motion is soothing, and you close your eyes to memorize its rhythm.

"Even if you're high maintenance, I'm the one who caused it. Allegedly."

You bristle and your eyes fly open, "allegedly? There's proof—"

"Ah-ah."

Caleb's brows are raised on his forehead as you pipe down, amused by how quick you were to correct your behavior.

"Much better. As I was saying."

Despite the extra firmness to his voice, his touch on you was nothing short of gentle. Like your body was carved from marble, reinforced by a fragile porcelain, he does that thing where he tilts your head with the hand on your neck. His thumb rubbing your earlobe.

But the most violating part had to be those intense, smoldering eyes that beheld you with utmost priority. How did you ever think he didn't care for you?

Caleb's tone of voice is chiding. "You're high maintenance because of me, and that makes you mine to maintain."

He's talking down to you. Treating you like one would to a child learning how to tie their shoelaces, his voice chiseled with the vines of condescension. Heartbeat speeding in your chest, distinguishing your heartbeat from your rampant thoughts became far more difficult.

The little smile that's on his lips seems manic. Far away, distant, as you slide your hands over his pecs. A shudder ripples over your skin.

"After all, it's my fault for making sure you're comfortable. It's my fault for prioritizing you above all else, as children and as adults." He starts, chillingly calm. He shakes his head to himself with a deep sigh, and tilts your head back against the door. Examining you with an unblinking, almost detached visage. Yet, his words were anything but, thick with emotion.

You breathe slow, torturous inhales and exhales, feeling Caleb's hand wrap itself around your throat. Alarms ring out in the back of your mind—loud, incessant, disturbing, yet you close your eyes and let him hold you there.

He won't hurt you. He never would, intentionally.

Quietly, like a forbidden fruit to not be consumed or heard, he mutters, "it's my fault for wantin' nothing but the best for you, because it's what you deserve. Nothing less."

Oh, you breathe out.

There's absolutely no pressure to the way he holds your neck. His palm wasn't against the column of your throat, instead, the pads of his thick digits were clasping the skin with a touch so invisible it almost felt nonexistent. When you swallow, the flexed skin presses itself up to his touch.

"Do you really want me to take it back?" Caleb asks, breaking the momentary silence and taking you out of your thoughts.

You blank out for a moment too long. "What?"

"You came over to let me know I've spoiled you beyond reversing repair, without wantin' me to change?"

Why did you come over? Why did you decide to come up to Skyhaven one day, literally days away from your regular times of visiting him? Over something like this? Literal outdated information that you've only recently discovered.

Why? You don't know, but you're rushing to speak, holding onto his top. "That's not what I—"

"It's not what you what?"

He tilts his head down toward you and every coherent thought exits your headspace instantly. God, his eyes. They're darker now. Frustration brimming in the burning fuchscia, the indigo of his irises all-consuming.

"I can stop pamperin' you starting today." He offers.

The surfacing ache in your chest is abrupt, disruptive.

"Starting today, I won't buy your favorite snacks. I won't ever pat your head again. I'll leave you to fend for yourself in every fast food line, and you can get your own stuff when we go shopping. You can even do your shopping alone. Is that what you want?"

No. No, it's not what you want, but how do you express that? An entity, so puissant and arresting, is crawling up your esophagus, scraping at the backs of your teeth, trying to pry your mouth open, and wail its truth into the minimal distance between you and Caleb. It's an ugly feeling, one stripping you down to your base needs.

Pain bleeds into his expression, his eyes only softening as a thought crosses his mind. "Are you gonna tell me you don't need me again?"

"Caleb, no," you manage.

"If not, then what's the problem? It's too late. If I've ruined you, you've destroyed me."

You destroyed him? When? You've never... When have you ever—?

Your chagrin spikes in time with your bewilderment. "I never did anything like that."

Caleb peered into your eyes. Your soul. Questioning, a bit disbelieving. Like he can't really believe your own blindness. An incredulous laugh slipping through his nose when he realizes you weren't lying.

He takes a step forward. You're fully sandwiched between him and the door now, and one of his arms come up to rest above you on the surface. "Caleb–"

"I can't go through the grocery store without thinking of what you want for dinner." He admits, the revelation so tender and tied with candor. Your words die on your tongue and dissolve.

"I can't do my laundry anymore unless it's with your brand of fabric softener, since it reminds me of you. Every time I try on a new jacket, I wonder how it would look good on you."

The information comes pouring out of him like a geyser. And his voice is full of nothing but love. You press your hands to his chest with more force, but he won't budge. Your ears are scalding and you're avoiding his gaze now, his face.

"You dedicated a journal to me. You came to every basketball game." Caleb laughs, breathless. A little in awe of you, so full of adoration. "You always visited Skyhaven when I moved out. You pretended to be my girlfriend. You didn't want me to get a girlfriend. You kissed me at my graduation."

He stutters over himself at the end, sighing deeply and it's making your stomach do flips. "God, you kissed me."

Really? You're burning. Did he have to bring that up?

He's pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, using his hold on your yielding neck to find your gaze once more. You could crumble into ashes right now. In fact, you hoped the floor underneath you would just swallow you whole and leave nothing behind for Caleb to dissect.

"You're think you're spoiled, pipsqueak?" Another laugh, and it's mixed with raspy agony and disbelief, shining in his stare. "I'm rotten."

In Caleb's home, you never really heard much commotion. Simply the low hum of the television in the background, the living room a few paces away. Yet, your heartbeat was the soundtrack to his life, and he's made it his favorite ringtone.

You could feel his own racing heart under your palm. He looks defeated now, conflicted. Oh, Caleb.

"You never wanted me to take it back." He says it to himself. Like he's trying to get himself to believe it.

"You just wanted reassurance that I'd never leave you, no matter how coddled you are."

The heart that's thudding rapidly against your ribcage was so fickle, so naïve. It might jump out of your throat at this rate—God, Caleb could probably feel your pulse like this.

Your mind's racing. There's only one way you could resolve this rift formed from these series of revelations and confessions. You weren't going to lose him again. He has no right to leave after this.

"You're so quiet now. Don't tell me you're thinkin' of runnin' away, pipsqueak." His voice is lighter, more in jest now. The first sign of distance, denial.

You clasp his wrist, and whisper, "I'll take responsibility."

"What?"

"I'll take responsibility. For ruining you. In exchange, take responsibility for me too." You declare, louder. You sound more sure.

He's blinking at you now. Then, his brows furrow and a bewildered laugh leaves him. Before he could reply, you push forward, not allowing him any time to recover.

"I'm in your hands now, aren't I? You said so yourself. You did this to me. I did this to you. I'm yours to deal with."

You wind your arms around his neck, hearing how his breaths stutter and feeling his hand leave your throat. You're on your tippy toes, pulling him down so you could settle back against the door, feeling his grip settle over your waist. It's a lovely sensation. One so right. It cements your resolve.

"The only ones who can handle us are each other. Nobody else."

You don't know what you're saying anymore.

But you know you like the rising determination, you like whatever this is. You like the hope that swims in his gaze. The fear that's within them, terrified of this being one of your pranks. It wasn't; you'll prove it to hom.

"You can't make all these promises and leave me alone," You speak in a hushed tone, finality thick in the waver of your voice. You're leaning in before you can stop yourself and whispering, "I won't let you."

You can't help but feel like whatever game you two are playing now, you've lost. He's won yet again. Yet it doesn't quite feel like a loss this time around, not when Caleb's face is smoothing out into one of relief. One of contentment as he closes the distance.

The breath that fans over your mouth is hot and his voice is full of yearning, "I never planned on it."

#𐙚 ; bǎo bèi.#mimi.writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #lnd #lnd x reader #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace caleb x reader #lads caleb #lads caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb fluff

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clubsoft · 2 days ago

Text

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⠀ ⠀ SUMMER , LO SIENTO ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ cupid's arrow arrives in the form of a pink cadillac && takes root . WARNINGS ⋆ mechanic!jey / nods towards sexual acts but none are written out / mentions of blood / puppy love heartbreak / lots of fluff / lots of angst / a man talking abt cars but its jey so its cool / longing / minimal char description but written w woc in mind / age gap ( reader is mid - late 20s , jey is late 30s ) / size difference / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 3 . 2 k NOTES ⋆ i originally wrote this fic abt 6 - 7 years ago w someone entirely different in mind but i love it sm that i went back n edited it to fit jey . it's mostly proofread but i doubt its perfect , there might b a difference in quality as well but i think thats the charm of re writing an old story . anyway !! enjoy !!

ACT . 1

With summer that year came the death of Jey— figuratively, of course. The heat nipped at his flesh and sweat beaded on his forehead as his low cut muscle tank stuck to his back. He spent his hours at his workplace, surrounded by the smell of car grease and rubber, and his free moments at the beach, but he could only watch so many sunsets before his heart ached for something more.

That day, the sun was burning intensely and stepping out of the air conditioned car garage had quickly become an irritation inducing task. Jimmy, his coworker and twin brother, was away for the week, visiting some friends down in the valley. That left Jey alone in the mechanic shop to tend to however many customers he could before he finally closed for the day.

His last customer— as dramatic as it may be— waited in her 1962 Pepto pink Cadillac. With her feet perched up on the dashboard, eyes transfixed on her phone screen and earbuds tucked in, she didn't notice the man until his knuckle rapped on her window. He watched a gasp form on her lips as she shot up, rolling the window down for him.

"Sorry— I didn't see the line go by," she said slowly, smiling sheepishly. He chuckled politely in response, ever the sweetheart, never one to make a customer feel uncomfortable in his presence.

"All good. What can I do for ya?" Jey fixed his loose top and leaned down, eyes shifting hastily over the sleek leather interior of the car. Impressive.

"I just need to get the battery replaced…" Judging from her hesitation and the way she bit the inside of her cheek after replying, she wasn't quite sure of what she needed. Just as he'd expected, her words were quickly followed by: "I think." Jey grinned that easy grin of his, his cheeks dimpling.

"What are the problems you've been having? Is it just not starting?" Her answer came as a confident nod and he held his hand out for the keys, which she placed in his palm before stepping out of her car. He wiped his dirtied hands over his jeans as he stood straight, glancing at the matching pink heart that hung from the keychain— he assumed it was some sort of obsession, but he himself had never found the shade of Pepto Bismol to be appealing.

The sky was beginning to darken, the lights in the garage shining much brighter than they did in the daytime. His last task of the day was an easy one, but he'd missed the sunset with how long he'd been at it. Older cars were set up differently. They were easier to fix— thankfully— but he found himself being extra careful not to touch the clean exterior with his grease stained fingers. The silence was awkward, but it wouldn't have been if there weren't so many questions swimming in Jey's head.

"This is real nice. S’this your car?," he finally asked, looking up for a moment, catching the girl's eyes. Had she been watching him this entire time? Many customers did, more often than not, so to feel a shiver run down his spine upon realizing she was doing such was… odd. What was so different about— Not all of those customers were so pretty… that was what set her apart. Jey blinked; once, twice, a third time, and then cleared his throat. To answer his question, she shook her head and just when Jey assumed she'd leave her answer at that, she began to speak.

"It's my grandmother’s. She's had it for forty years,” she replied, to which Jey nodded. "It's been broken down for a while, I just thought it would be more serious than a dead battery." This time, he shook his head.

"Sometimes, cars shut down if you don't turn ‘em on for a while. Usually, s’not just a dead battery. You got lucky, really." He watched her nod in understanding and divert her gaze back to her phone. There was something detached about the way she answered his questions, how quick she was to turn her attention away when it would no longer be too rude and how focused her words were, as if she picked each and every one carefully as she spoke. He didn't pry, he didn't feel the need to at that time. Everyone was always disturbed in their own ways, it seemed.

It soon became evident that his encounters with the girl would never end. After their first meeting, he'd forgotten her face within the next twenty to thirty minutes, much to his relief. Pretty faces weren’t good news when it came to him. Their second meeting, two weeks later, was passed off as a coincidence— it's a small world, he thought. After their third time stumbling across one another, he finally found out her name. He remembered her face after that night; glittering eyes and honeyed skin, lush lips and a perfect nose.

Jey could recognize her figure anywhere after that, and if he were to say he didn't miss her fingertips brushing against his hands as he held her hips or the feeling of her nails scraping his nape as she crooned his name, he'd be a lying fiend.

ACT . 2

Jey felt dainty fingers thread through his hair, the light scratching of long nails against his scalp. He breathed out a sigh.

"What are you doin’, baby?" he mumbled. Soft tresses brushed against his shoulders as she leaned down to press her lips to his, moving her body into his lap where his arms encompassed her waist. Her lips planted roses and tulips along his jaw and she buried her nose into the crook of his neck, exhaling gently and sending the butterflies in Jey's stomach to his spine, making him shudder.

"I have to leave," she whispered. She never met his eyes when he tried to look at her; instead, she borrowed her face into his chest, avoiding his gaze at all costs. She feared she'd cry, or say something he didn't want to hear just yet. She feared he wouldn't care— worse, she feared he'd leave her first.

"Hey, look at me." She felt the rumble of his voice in his chest, the tenderness of his fingertips against her chin, guiding her eyes to his own. Jey's hand shifted to cup her cheek, his thumb running gently over her skin. "What's wrong?"

"My dad…” she began, and then trailed off.

“Your dad?” Jey coaxed, gently.

“He doesn't like you and he— fuck— he saw me kiss you that one night when you dropped me off and he doesn't want you near me, because he doesn't like that I'm dating someone like you so I—”

Confusion apparent on his countenance, Jey tilted his head, and repeated, “Someone like me?” He wasn’t sure what that meant, for she avoided the topic of him meeting her family like the plague. He’d always assumed it was to do with things she wasn’t ready to tell him about. Never did he think it was to do with him. A naive way of thinking, when he reflected upon it. Yes, he was older, a good decade and some change separating their years, but she was old enough to know what she wanted. He didn’t have a career that made him six figures a year, nor did he plan on working towards one. The only thing he was good at was fixing cars, and he did that with no complaints. To her family, who’d worked hard to get her a college education, put themselves in debt to ensure her a future, Jey wasn’t an equal. Sure, it hurt to not be seen as enough, yet a single glance at his baby and his hurt faded, washed over by the sheer love in her tearful eyes.

“Age and job, college degree and— bullshit, it’s all bullshit! You take care of me, you make me happy, s’that not enough?” Her voice was raising, becoming fervid with perplexity. Jey cupped her chin with one warm hand, and watched fondly as the simple touch led her to match his slow, steady breathing, letting his closeness answer for him.

Droplets began to flow freely from her eyes, trembles running down her back. She cried herself tired in his arms, only relaxing under the sensation of his fingers drawing circles into her skin. "I don't want to leave you, but he knows I'm gone and if he finds me with you, he'll send me away.” Her embrace tightened around his torso. “Baby, I don't want to leave you."

"S’okay, sweetness," he mumbled. "We’ll figure somethin’ out."

"I have to get away from him, but where am I going to go? And what about you? What am I going to do without you?" Fresh tears raced down her cheeks, swiped away by Jey's thumbs. "I can't make you leave your life here… not for me.. not even temporarily… and I can't stay with him because he'll send me away to somewhere I might never see you again.” Utterly despondent, she let a sob shake her frame. “I'll lose you either way… I'm flirting with the edge of a cliff." Strong arms squeezed her tighter in reassurance. Jey’s heart was aching, hearing her sound so hopeless taking a much bigger toll than he feared he could handle.

"I won't let you jump… I said I’d never let you go, I meant it." Again and again, those words had left his lips. What a fool he’d been to think this was anything but love. When he mistakenly thought he missed the softness of her thighs and the smoothness of her lips instead of her, when he only held her close to listen to her whimper and groan, to feel her legs quivering around his waist. When he thought he would one day get tired of her voice, her laugh, her touch. Inhaling deeply, he filled his senses with her scent, and those three words slipped away before he even felt them on his tongue.

I love you. I'm never letting you go.

Fear had made his body freeze, the gasp that left her lips and the sigh that followed. The lust and courage drained to be replaced by lovesick whispers and tender touches. The soft dips and curves of her body were stamped into his memory and he refused to make himself forget.

His fingers basked in the softness of her locks as he let his mind wander, hoping to find a fragment of a solution among the growing shadows of anxiety. His lover had gone silent, her soft breathing indicating that she too, was in deep thought. He held her tighter, left kisses along her brow, and closed his eyes.

He could take her somewhere, leave behind what he'd known for years. They'd say he ran away for a girl, that she ruined him. It's what his friends always assumed, that she was in it for something else; rarely did women who looked like her truly love, but his baby was a fallen angel with tears of gold and a kiss like freshly bloomed cherry blossoms. Perfect. Oh, so perfect.

There was bound to be somewhere underneath the palm trees where they were safe.

"Baby," he began, his chest rising with a deep breath. "Let's take a trip."

ACT . 3

Jimmy thought Jey was wasting that golden heart of his on the wrong one; ruining his time on someone who'd run away once he was no longer enough, so the news of Jey's departure, especially as it was announced over the phone, had him shaking with anger. Every attempt made at getting his brother to rethink his decision was hastily dismissed, and though he understood how much joy the girl brought the man who'd been wallowing in his own angst, Jimmy was too careful to let her grow on him.

"You're just worried. She's not like that, she's… perfect."

Really, it wasn't her mistake; Jey was the happiest Jimmy had ever seen him, but that happiness was there years back as well, with Jey's high school sweetheart who hadn't looked back after she stomped his heart into the sidewalk and disappeared— completely vanished into thin air. This happiness wasn't nearly identical to the one from years ago, a seemingly purer form of it, but Jimmy never cared to look too closely at the details; he just wanted to help his twin avoid heartbreak.

"It'll only be for a bit, until she can fix things with her dad."

The repair shop was closed already, a sign hanging from the doorknob claiming they'd be back soon! in bright red letters that bugged Jimmy the longer he looked on. He struck the door with his fist, wincing as the metal shook on its hinges.

"You don't get to tell me who to love."

Jey's voice was so awfully calm when he spoke those words, but Jimmy had heard the sigh that followed— the soft, shaky sigh. Jey was scared, no matter how much he denied it, he was scared, but not of leaving, no. It was something else, something Jimmy couldn't guess.

"We both remember what happened the last time you said that, Jey."

Jey's high school sweetheart was a childhood friend of Jimmy's first. As twins, they shared everything. It was only a matter of time before Jimmy’s first friend became Jey’s first love. As they grew older, distance was inevitable. The boys who once played racing games together on their GameCube as kids dodged death by the skin of their teeth while taking part in a race of their own, one with nasty twists and competitiveness that overshadowed their care for safety. Jey being the winner while Jimmy coughed up blood behind the wheel landed them in a fight so brutal, they spent the weekend in the emergency room. Even after that, Jimmy was always there. He was there when Jey ran away from their dad's place, and he was the one who snuck back into their dad's house when they gathered the stuff he'd left behind. He’d been the one to co-sign on Jey’s small apartment, the one to give him his first real kitchen appliance, the only person in his life who could bring him out of a slump with a trip to the movies and cheap margaritas at their favorite diner. Nine minutes older, Jimmy never failed to be a good older brother… but when he made a mistake, it was a big one. He was the one who’d set Jey up with his first love, the girl who held no remorse after abandoning his other half since birth.

"She left me. She just— she's gone… Jimmy, she said she doesn't love me anymore…"

Heartbreak clung to each and every word that left Jey's mouth that night, his voice trembling, tears spilling down his cheeks, the pain in his eyes so evident, even in the dark. That night was stamped into Jimmy's memory and he wished to forget it for it brought on an ocean of guilt that'd drowned him for the months after the breakup. It took years for Jey to recover, the change in body language when her name was mentioned, the sad glint in his eyes still visible, but not anymore; not since the girl arrived in her pink Cadillac.

"I think I'm in love, and I'm not just sayin’ that. I've never been so mesmerized by someone's presence before. Hell, today, I stared at the lil’ crinkles that appear around her eyes when she smiles the entire time she was here. I know you were scared this would happen but she isn't one’a those girls… she doesn't have any other guys; I told you that before. You know that one girl we met at the bar when we all went? She said my baby was the best person she knew… she can't be lying, right? If she is… S’too late. I think I'm in love."

ACT . 4

Her hands shook in her lap, dainty fingers curling and uncurling, gripping onto any piece of reality she could as neurotic thoughts suffocated her and twisted their claws into her flesh. The girl couldn't stop trembling, the countless deep breaths she took useless. She only found solace in Jey's touch, but even those sensations soon rendered futile. Still, he held her hand and wiped her tears.

Jey was humming some old song, moving about the hotel room as if he was indifferent to his own circumstances, but his restlessness spoke louder than his words. He kissed the crown of her head when he came back from the shower, clad in only sweatpants, and as they lay on the bed, he kept her small hand on his bare chest, where she could feel the subtle vibrations of his heartbeat. He ran his fingers through her hair— soothing her nerves to the best of his ability.

Below her fingertips, his smooth skin was stained with ink. Tatau, he called it. Beyond those grease stained shirts and calloused fingers was a vision of beauty, a symbol of the tenderness her beloved possessed. It's for my uncle, he'd said, he was wonderful, woulda adored you.

She was burrowed into his side, head resting on his outstretched arm and her legs thrown over his. Aside from her soft breathing, she was silent, lost in her own sea of thoughts. He could see them swimming in her orbs like koi fish in ponds, each one holding its own maybe's and what if's. Jey hummed, tugging gently on a lock of hair.

"Tomorrow, we'll do something fun," he whispered. The girl's response was a quick nod; she hadn't heard him, he was sure of it. Instead of snapping her out of her daze, he put his hand over hers and let her wrap her fingers around his pointer and middle digits. To believe such small palms held his entire world. "Baby." He squeezed her hand gently. This time, she hummed in response. "Tomorrow… we'll do something fun."

"Okay."

It would take time to keep her ring of fears from tightening around her chest, to stop her from apologizing for something he'd voluntarily done.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." She shifted to press her lips to his jaw, lingering there for a quick heartbeat before he tilted his head down to mold his lips against hers. Her hand gripped his fingers tighter, and Jey couldn't ignore the rush that went through his body the moment her chest pressed against his. Her heart was beating so fast as his lips slid down to her neck and his teeth grazed her skin. "Jey?"

"Yea, baby?" he murmured against her bare chest, untangling their legs to bring himself up to the pillow.

"I'm sorry." She hid her face in the crook of his neck before she continued, "for making you do this."

"You didn't make me do anything," he spoke into her hair, his chest vibrating with each word he rasped out. "Oh, baby… if you only knew all the things I'd do for you."

⠀⠀ ⠀

TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe / @uceyliyahh / @uceypunk / @punksyeet / @chasssssworld / @ctinadiva / @bookuce / @bratzzzdoll / @mselenalovebug / @sheaabuttaababyy / @partypoison00 / @meemee444u / @pr0wlerpunk / @queeny23 / @mingisfavgf / @brianochka if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my wrestling fics , pls like this post !!

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #wwe fanfic #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x poc reader #jey uso imagine #bloodline x reader #idk what else to tag this #jey uso fluff #fic.

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yncoreee · 1 day ago

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10 STEPS TO GETTING A GIRL. Hanni x reader

February 1st, 2025

Dear Diary,

I'm literally dying of boredom in class right now. I've been secretly scrolling through TikTok under my desk (don't tell the teacher), and I stumbled upon this hilarious video of a girl trying to get her crush's attention. She said she was going to "show off her charms" to see if it would work. And, surprisingly, it did!

I watched the video like three times, and I couldn't help but think, "Why not me?" I mean, I've had a crush on y/n for ages, and I've been too scared to even talk to her. But today, I decided to take a chance.(•̀ᴗ•́)و

As luck would have it, y/n was sitting right beside me in class. I "accidentally" dropped my pen on the floor next to her, and I stood up to go pick it up. I gave her my best "innocent-like eyes" look and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. I was trying to channel my inner “soft girl" vibes.

But, um, let's just say it didn't quite go as planned.~(>_<~)

As I looked up at y/n, I expected her to, I don't know, melt into a puddle of love or something. But instead, she just gave me this blank, questioning look. Like, she had no idea what I was even doing.

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment, and I quickly apologized and stood up to return to my seat. As I sat down, I couldn't help but curse myself for making things so awkward. I mean, who tries to flirt with someone in the middle of class?

I glanced over at y/n, who was now staring intently at the teacher. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Was she confused? Amused? Repulsed?

Ugh, I don't know why I even tried. I'm just going to stick to my usual self from now on. No more trying to be someone I'm not.

But, as I looked at y/n again, I couldn't help but feel this tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't notice my awkwardness. Maybe she'll even talk to me someday.

A girl can dream, right?( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

I'm going to bed now, diary. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Goodnight!

P.S. I'm renaming this operation "10 Steps to Getting a Girl (Without Making a Total Fool of Myself)".

February 2nd, 2025

Dear Diary,

Today was the day I decided to try out my hair flip move. I practiced it in front of the mirror for hours, perfecting the technique. I mean, who doesn't love a good hair flip, right?٩(ᐛ)و

As I walked down the hallway, I spotted y/n leaning against her locker, looking adorable as usual. I took a deep breath, flipped my hair, and gave her my brightest smile.

But, of course, things didn't quite go as planned. As I flipped my hair, I lost my balance and stumbled into the locker next to y/n. I mean, it was like the universe was conspiring against me.

Y/n looked at me with this confused expression, (o_O) like she was trying to figure out what I was doing. I just laughed it off and played it cool, like I meant to do that.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, trying to sound casual.

Y/n just shrugged and said, "Not much. Just waiting for my tutor."

I nodded and stood there for a few awkward moments, trying to think of something else to say. But before I could come up with anything, y/n's tutor showed up, and they walked off together.

I watched them go, feeling a bit deflated. I guess my hair flip move needs a bit more work.

But I'm not giving up! I'll keep trying until I get it right.(>ᴗ•)

Until next time, diary...

P.S. I think I need to work on my balance.

February 4th, 2023

Dear Diary,

Today was the day I decided to do a good deed for y/n. I figured, what's the best way to get someone's attention? By being kind and thoughtful, of course!

I spent hours thinking about what I could do for y/n. Should I carry her books? Buy her lunch? Help her with her homework? The possibilities were endless!

Finally, I decided on the perfect plan. I would buy y/n's favorite lunch and surprise her with it during class. I mean, who doesn't love a good surprise?

I arrived at school early, eager to put my plan into action. I bought y/n's favorite lunch - a turkey sandwich and a bag of chips - and carefully placed it in a bag.

As I walked into class, I spotted y/n sitting at her desk, looking adorable as usual. I took a deep breath, walked over to her desk, and proudly presented her with the lunch.

"Hey, I bought you lunch!" I said, trying to sound casual.

Y/n looked up at me, surprised, and said, "Oh, thanks..."

But before she could even take the lunch from me, disaster struck. As I was handing her the bag, I tripped on my own feet and spilled the entire contents of the bag all over y/n's shirt. (」°ロ°)」

I mean, it was like the universe was conspiring against me. Again.

Y/n looked down at her shirt, now covered in turkey and chips, and let out a deep groan. "Seriously?" she said, her voice laced with frustration.

I was mortified. I immediately apologized and tried to help her clean up the mess. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! Let me help you clean that up!" I exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins from the desk.

But y/n stopped me with a sigh. "Don't worry about it. It's okay."

She stood up, her shirt stained and dirty, and began to walk away. I felt a pang of disappointment and embarrassment. I had really messed things up this time.

"Wait, y/n! Let me at least help you clean up!" I called out after her, but she just shook her head and kept walking.(╥_╥)

I watched her go, feeling like a total failure. Why did I always have to be so clumsy around her? Why couldn't I just be normal for once?

As I sat back down at my desk, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just blown my chances with y/n. Had I scared her off for good?

I sighed and buried my face in my hands. Why did I always have to make things so complicated?(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

Until next time, diary...

TAGLIST 🏷️ @sixflame438 @saysirhc @trovao-penguins @drvirgus @glassypze @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @wintersgff @somedaydream @yxlis @artrizzler19 @haerinkisser @gtfoiydlyj @stareaa @sseulforgii @yjiminswallet

#fluff #kpop x reader #newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #newjeans fluff #hanni x reader #Hanni fluff #hanni x you #newjeans x you #newjeans x reader fluff

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stormbabylore · 1 day ago

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Aeryn doesn't know her age—doesn't even have a nameday, as far as she knows. She "arrived" in Eorzea as a "young adult" with no memories beyond a vague guess at a name, and so she has no determinable age. An astute observer might peg her somewhere in her mid-20s, and that is roughly where I place her on the age chart.

Her other self died in her late teens, at which point she was promptly locked in stasis by Hydaelyn (to prevent the physical manifestation of a dying star from entering the lifestream). She didn't age in stasis, not until the most recent calamity on the Source claimed the life of her reflection there. The rejoining cracked her stasis, causing her to age again, so she would essentially have aged five years from the time of her death to the time she is "reborn" on the Source.

All that to simply repeat: Aeryn doesn't know. I assume she shrugs and stays quiet when questions of her age arise and might jot down arbitrary numbers whenever required to on paper. (This would lead to vast discrepancies about her age within Eorzea's Warrior of Light rumor mill.)

As for outliving her loved ones… yes, she likely will. Which of course makes me very extremely sad. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) Many fictional character life-death emotions behind the cut:

The fusion with her star drastically impacted both Aeryn's lifespan and aging process, so she'll live a good deal longer than the average hyur. I'm sort of hooked on this poetic notion of her burning out like a star, and her aging would mimic this: she would seem unnaturally ageless for many, many years; then have sudden, milder bursts of growth/change over the span of a few months. (Those who see her regularly would find the signs of aging still too gradual to note from day to day. Anyone who did notice she seemed older than when they last met would shrug it off, because she still looks darn good for a hyur of her age, all things considered.)

She's not immortal and is actively dying like most folks. The time she has is just prolonged. If I had to put a number to it, I'd say her star magic extends her life by roughly 75%, allowing her to live 60-75 extra years and placing her general life expectancy somewhere in the range of 120-175 years, total. As such, even assuming the scions (et al.) get to live full lives and don't have the typical "Eorzea is dangerous, so most people die before 50" endgame… Aeryn's probably still outliving the majority of her non-viera friends.

Lately I've toyed with the notion of her living even longer: becoming a nomad after all her immediate acquaintances pass on and doing as [redacted for spoilers] challenged, ensuring she sees everything of the world she can possibly find. If so, she would eventually stop and/or return to discover a full generation has come and gone, and that few even knew her anymore outside myth/history/legend.

Though I find that particular bit painful to think about, I very much enjoy the idea of Aeryn's story being circular this way. She both begins and ends her journey on the Source "alone," but she is content in her solitude at the end because of the journey she's taken and the way she's grown to love and accept her circumstances... and herself. She burns out, not lamenting a life (a past) she never found, but satisfied with the life she allowed herself to live.

What age is your WoL, if they know it? Will they outlive their loved ones?

#ffxiv #wol questions #wol #wol lore #ffxiv oc #wol death #aeryn stormwater #she deserves to have a confusing age in the ffxiv time bubble #yes I've written her death #yes it makes me cry

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the-heliophile · 2 days ago

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COFFEE - SEVIKA

FROM FOURMI 🐜💌 Currently suffering from an unhealthy Vi, Sevika and Ambessa obsession, yes I have a type what can I say I love hot women that can just throw me around

song. coffee, chappell roan

pairing. ex!Sevika x ex!reader

content. angst/sadness, no happy ending, kind of toxic Sevika?, no use of she/her but fem implied reader

summary. your ex Sevika asks you to meet up for drinks and you try not to end up in her bed again

You were lounging in bed, still blinking away the fog in your eyes when you got a text. You picked up the phone and squinted to read the time, 8:36AM, you sighed before looking at the actual text.

Unknown number : up for drinks later today?

You sighed, knowing exactly who it was from and how it would end. You and Sevika had broken up over three months ago but you still received an occasional text from her. You fought the urge to answer right away, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your heartbeat first. After a few minutes you gathered the strength to type out an answer.

You : sure, coffee after work ?

Unknown number : only coffee ?

You : I kind of have plans for tonight sorry

"I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but,

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so"

You had made that mistake too many times, meeting Sevika for drinks at the end of a rough day, expecting it to end with you parting ways amicably just to be proven wrong each and every time. There was something to her, an allure that you quite couldn't resist, as if her soul was calling out to yours but her heart was constantly pushing you away. It was the reason you had broken up in the first place, her pushing you away, keeping out of the loop so you would never get involved in Silco's business. She meant well and you knew it, but there was only so much you could take. Too many nights where you'd stare at the clock wondering if she would make it home this time, too many times only getting to see her in the early hours of the morning just for her to be too drunk to even speak. You wanted, needed security, someone who could spare some time for you, confide in you and make you feel like a partner instead of a child they must keep out of everything.

"I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie"

You remember the last time you agreed to go out for drinks with Sevika. You both stayed at the Last Drop for several hours, reminiscing the good moments of your relationship, catching up on each other's lives. It only took a couple drinks for the look in her eyes to go from its usual detachment to that dark arousal you'd see whenever she would get home after a hard day. And it was only a couple more drinks that led to Sevika kissing your neck in the back of the bar, she still remembered every erogenous zone, every sensitive spot there and she was kissing them almost earnestly. You crumbled in a few minutes and you ended up in her bed, once again, and once again you promised yourself it would be the last time. She never had any regards for you in the morning, barely addressing you while you were picking your clothes up and getting dressed, it made you feel dirty and yet you could never resist, you always fell for the sweet nothings she had whispered in your ear in her drunk haze.

"If I didn't love you, it would be fine"

Sevika knew she was hurting you every time it happened, but you also hurt her when you broke up with her. She was trying to do the good thing in your relationship, saw you as a light she did not want to dim with stories of the things she did. The truth was that Sevika loved you, in her own way, but she saw you as something fragile, breakable that she should protect. She was incredibly angry and hurt that you had broken up with her after two years, despite all the times she had explained her reasoning, she felt as though it was selfish of you and so she refused to let you just move on. Whenever she found herself missing you she would send a text, asking to go out, knowing full well you would never say no. She would never ask you to take her back, instead she would rather wait until you asked for her to come back to you, but every single time you joined her for the evening Sevika could tell how stiff you were, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and refusing to look in her agate eyes. Every night ultimately ended up with you in her bed and her almost urging you out in sheer frustration that you wouldn't make the first move. So even if she knew her actions were hurting you, she also knew you still had feelings for her and she texted you once again, capitalizing on your feelings for her to secure a spot by your side, albeit temporarily.

"I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee,

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place"

You had just gotten home from work and you immediately started getting ready, there was a little skip in your step for the whole way home, the idea that you would get to meet up with Sevika for something other than getting drunk was making you feel almost giddy. While doing your make-up your mind started drifting to all the soft moments exchanged between Sevika and you and eventually memories of your drunk nights together. Eventually the giddiness faded into bitterness, the corners of your mouth lowering from the grin you were sporting earlier and your shoulders slumping slightly. You knew, deep down you knew. It wouldn't be just coffee, she'd suggest the Last Drop and you'd agree with a "something came up" text to your friends. And once more you'd wake up in her bed feeling used. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling Sevika's hand around your heart tightening, you were almost fully done up but your mood had significantly worsened compared to when you stepped into your bedroom.

"So let's not do coffee, let's not even try,

It's better we leave it and give it some time"

You let out a defeated sigh before grabbing your phone, typing a quick text to the number you still haven't saved again since you deleted it the first time because "that way you won't be tempted to text her".

You : Sorry, something came up, raincheck?

Unknown number : Sure, what about Saturday?

You : I'll be busy sorry, but I'll text you when I can !

You lied, you won't text her, not again, it had to end. It was time for you to move on and get on with your life. You shed a few tears, your mascara now running down your cheeks and take a deep breath to steady yourself. Promising yourself it was the very last time you had given her the time of day.

''Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee,

It's never just coffee"

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika angst #arcane angst #wlw angst #wlw #wlw post #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #arcane sevika #angst x reader #angst #longing #pining #ex lovers

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corviiids · 2 days ago

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hello! how do you find consistent friends in fandom? as in, how do you find people who stick with you through different fandoms and listen and read your work. also, how long have you been writing for and how long did it take you to get so good at writing and character analysis.... your work is such an inspiration to me, genuinely one of my top 3 authors across ao3. i hope the writing goes well!

hey! this is really sweet, thank you very much for your lovely kind words. 💖

re: friendship: i don't mean to be a downer about this so i hope it doesn't come across this way, but i do think the concept of friends where you follow each other through all your fandoms and continue to read each other's work etc kind of... either doesn't exist or is just a rare phenomenon and not a 'type' of friend per se more than it is something that just happens out of luck. i am lucky enough to have friendships which have persisted through all of us changing fandoms, but the reason those friendships last is actually because we found connections that went beyond common interests. i think sharing a fandom/interest is great as an initial point of connection and a way to meet, but for a relationship to last, you need to have a deeper bond than both being into the same thing--so contrary to what you've asked about (oops sorry) those friendships im speaking of only last because we didn't follow each other into different fandoms, really. we didn't have to. along the same vein, i'd respectfully argue that it wouldn't be productive or fair of me to group 'reading my work' in as an element of friendship, so to speak--i definitely don't expect my friends to read my fic and vice versa, we all understand that we can support each other in our creative pursuits and lives in general / in the abstract without needing to be a fan of the same things or even necessarily being fans of each other's work (although of course it's always nice). i know this doesn't really answer your specific question but i hope it doesn't come across as pessimistic as it might sound. i truly and genuinely believe it's a positive thing that the idealised friendgroup traipsing through fandoms together doesn't really exist (or if it does exist, it's luck and not something to shoot for in itself), because this just tells me to look out for these great opportunities to form bonds that last beyond superficial interests.

in terms of how to make those friendships to begin with, im honestly even less help. my friendships kind of just happened to me. im actually quite terrible at reaching out to people and i am notoriously difficult to reach myself hahaha so honestly all the credit for my friendships goes to my friends for being patient and sticking with me despite that. i am honestly just very lucky in that i've been able to talk out loud into the void and have had wonderful people reach out to me because of it, but that's hardly a reliable strategy... i guess i'd encourage you to be more like my friends, who are the anime protagonists wielding the power of friendship to my prickly antagonist, or whatever. oh another thing to remember i guess is that some friendships just don't last this way and will stay within fandoms and may peter out, and that's ok. i don't consider those relationships less real or valuable for being less lasting.

re: writing: i want to caveat that i don't think i'm fairly able to say (or comfortable saying) that i'm particularly good at writing or character analysis, certainly not to an extent that i'd be willing to hold myself up as an example of it, but i really appreciate that you feel that way about my work and am incredibly honoured to be considered an inspiration in any capacity!!

with that disclaimer made, i'll do my best to answer for whatever it's worth. i've liked writing ever since i was a very little kid, but i will credit any actual progress i've made in developing the skill to writing fanfic because i think that being able to focus on building character and logical flow in plot progression over other things like creating characters, worldbuilding, inventing plots wholesale, etc--which has allowed me to sort of expedite those skills in particular and which i think are helpful in writing more broadly. (this also answers the 'character analysis' part specifically--when you don't have to/get to invent a character, you have to spend more time taking them apart.) anyway, i started writing fic about twelve or thirteen years ago, and there have been periods within that where i've progressed faster or slower depending what's going on in my life haha. i do think time played a massive role in any skill developments i've made, but i also know people take less time or more time to make similar progress (caveat again: progression is subjective, this is very approximate), so i think the other key ingredient besides time is engagement. if it's helpful, i went into that a little bit more here, but as stated i have a lot more to learn and would never present myself as an expert lol

#asks #sorry god i dont know if this is remotely helpful. probably not.#i dont know how to express in a measured way that im possibly the worst and least helpful person to ask about friendship #im very 'tch... friends... what the hell is up with that shit...' and then my beloved friends go 'ok dude' and care abt me anyway #so. i am sorry. im very little help on this front. ive learned a lot about 'friendship' in the abstract FROM my friends but #very little about how to MAKE friends like on purpose because my friends just kind of happened to me. because im lucky?#but i will say the perspective ive gained on friendship and what one can realistically expect from it has been very valuable #and has led me to value my friendships even more #anyway... tch... friendship... what the hell is up with that sh #rookthots #hi my friends reading this i love you

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freshxsturniolo · 2 days ago

Text

but, why? CHRIS STUNRIOLO x FEM!READER - PART THREE.

Part 1 ∣ Part 2

a smile illuminates your face as you walk across the bar after using the bathroom, jasons eyes finding your instantly. gods, he was gorgeous. so gorgeous. you'd had such a lovely evening and enjoyed every second of his and his friends company, but there was a feeling inside of you that just needed to be home.

"did you manage to get an uber?" he asked as you reached him, his hand reaching for your instantly as you sit down. you plaster on a smile and lean forward to drop a small kiss to his lips. gods, those lips.

"yeah. it'll be here shortly." you say, pulling back away and squeezing his hand tightly before letting go, grabbing your drink and finishing the final sip. you had no idea how many drinks you'd had over the last few hours. jason and his friends had done a fine job of ensuring your purse and bank card stayed firmly away, and a drink was always in your hand.

"I feel so bad. are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he leans forward, his hand finding your thigh. your leg tenses on contact, and a warmth washes over you as his hand slowly rubs against your bare skin. "we could go back to mine. or yours." he drops kiss behind your ear and you let out a shaky breath.

truthfully, you had fully expect the night to end exactly like that. you'd made every effort possible, you'd cleaned your apartment within an inch of its life incase he finally came back with you, but still, as much as his touch and his voice was incredibly tempting, tonight didn't feel the night.

"i promise, next time." you flush. and he chuckles into your ear before pulling away, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. "anyway," you start, looking around at his friends who are all around your table, laughing and joking with each other. "imagine what this lot would say if we ran off together."

jason chuckles, picking up his drink. "i dont care, as long as its you im running off with."

your phone pings at exactly the wrong time. your heart swells. you almost want to curse yourself for texting him. asking him to pick you up. theres a light blush against your cheeks and you're about to say something when one of his friends slaps his shoulder, leaning forward and passing another drink forward. you take your chance to look at your phone, seeing his name and letting out a smile.

"i didn't get you one, y/n." your head whips up. "unless you've decided to stay?"

you smile at jasons friend, before you grab your bag from the arm of your chair.

"my ride just got here, but thank you." you smile, starting to stand up. jason follows suit, and you give him a quick look before turning to his friends. you thank them all for a wonderful night, and to your surprise every single one of them stands up to give you a hug. it takes a while, all 5 boys pulling you in and wishing to see you soon, but when you finally spin back to jason, he's made his way to the bar and is leaning against it, staring at you deeply. you walk your way over, and your hands find his neck immediately.

"im busy for the next few days," he starts, and you nod. "but can i call you tomorrow? and the day after that? and then the day after that?"

you laugh, dropping your head down before looking back at him. "of course."

he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips to yours and you accept gratefully. "let me walk you out." he says, and your heart rate speeds slightly, but you give him a smile.

"im fine, babe. go enjoy yourself."

he's hesitant, but he smiles before leaning forward to drop another kiss."let me know when you're home safe, please." he whispers into your lips.

"of course" you whisper back, and then you give him a final peck before squeezing his arm slightly, and walking away. a laugh escapes you as you hear his table of friends cheer at him as he walks back, and it takes everything in you not to turn around and stare at him one last time.

and yet, the minute you get outside and are greeted by your best friend, you heart leaps a little.

"your carriage awaits" he speaks, leant against the wall. your smile falters as you role your eyes.

"dont gloat" you say, and he laughs, pushing himself off the wall and grabbing you into a hug. your arms are around his back instantly as you give him a squeeze.

"you absolutely stink of vodka" he says into your ear, and you pull away, pushing him away. he laughs, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. "and mr lover boy hasn't even walked you out?"

you roll your eyes again, but grab his wrist for support. "his name is jason. and no. i told him to stay inside."

"such a gentleman" chris mutters, grabbing your arm as you walk towards the car.

"i'll go back inside if you can't be nice." you say, coming to a stand still.

your best friends had become more open over the last few days to your relationship, or not relationship, with jason. but chris still stuck on the fence. disengaging when conversation arose, changing the subject at every possible moment too without it coming across as rude. you had sighed just the night before as you lay in bed with nick, turning over to him and asking him WHY chris was so cold with any man you entered into your life. nick had been hesitant, and he had looked at you like he didn't know what to say for right or wrong, but he had pulled you into a hug and told you to have fun, regardless of what his brother thought.

chris stopped walking too, but a laugh escaped his lips as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

"im only joking, come on, lets get you food."

and so you did. the moment you got in the car and chris played your favourite playlist, you felt the most relaxed you had had all evening. you were drunk, so incredibly drunk, and for some reason chris' energy and presence had bought it out in you. but he took it in his stride. he laughed with you, he payed for your food without question and he sang along to all your favourite songs with you.

when he finally pulled up, at his and the boys house you noticed, you grabbed your phone out of your bag and pinged jason a message to let him know you were home safely, and thanked him again for a great night. when you put your phone back away, chris was staring at you intensely.

"what?" you laugh, grabbing your drink from the cup holder at the side of you. the full sugar pepsi after copious amounts of wine was much welcomed.

chris stared at you, but shrugged as he turned to get out the car. the moment long forgotten when your phone pinged again. you got out of the car, drink in hand and your heart jumped a little when you saw jasons message, telling you he would call you in the morning. placing your phone back in your bag, you make your way towards chris.

"i don't remember asking you to bring me back here" you joke, slipping your hand into his. he looked down at your hands before he interlocked them, grabbing your closer.

"i don't remember you telling me to take you home, either." he jokes. you laugh.

"if you want to spend more time with me, you only have to ask." you say back, hitting his shoulder with yours.

but chris says nothing as you walk into their house, chaos descending the minute nick hears your heels on the floor. you're pulled from chris' arms immedately, nick spinning you round and asking you for every single little detail possible about the night. you were a smirking giddy mess by the time you were done, explaining all the times jason had squeezed your thighs under the table, the kisses behind your ear. nick had listened and gasped in all the right places, but it was matt who bought you back to earth as he flung himself down on the couch after listening from the kitchen.

"so, why the fuck are you here and not at his house?"

you whip your head to him immediately, but it takes you a second. because you're not sure. your eyes scan to chris, and he's staring at you again, exactly how he did in the car. it isn't lost on you that you can't seem to tear your eyes away from him.

"does it fucking matter, matt?" nick chimes, and your trance is broken as you turn around to nick. you smile, internally thanking him for speaking out. you hear matt chuckle behind you, and then nick is on his feet.

"are you staying the night? fuck why am i even asking, you're absolutely staying the night. i have some of your make up wipes in my bathroom. matt, did you throw her stuff from last night into the laundry?"

you spin round to matt, and he stand immediately. "yeah, let me get them."

you smile. "can i borrow a hoodie?"

matt rolls his eyes, but gives you a grin afterwards. you laugh, sinking back into the couch, flinging your heels off onto the floor and pulling your knees into your chest. but when the room becomes silent, matt and nick in other rooms, chris' voice pops up.

"why did you?"

you look to him immediately. you screw your eyebrows. "huh?"

"why did you? come back here? why didn't you stay and end the night with him"

"i-"

he doesn't let you answer.

"what was your excuse for coming home?"

you gulp. "i said i was tired."

"and who did you tell him was giving you a ride?"

you pause. "i told him i called an uber."

he stares at you for what feels like an eternity, before he stands up.

"i cant do this."

"chris-"

but he's off down the stairs to his room before you can say something else.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic

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