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elryuse · 2 days ago

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ANTHEM pt.4

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOL X MALE READER

TAGS : Harem, Seduction, Multiple Female Love Interest, Kiss,

WORDS : 3,940 Words

For The Other Part Of My ANTHEM Series, Please Kindly Check Over Here.

Y/n stood frozen in the shower, the water still cascading down his back as he tried to process what had just happened. Yujin’s sudden appearance and her equally quick exit left him breathless, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He leaned against the tiled wall, his mind racing.

She couldn’t have seen too much, right? he thought, though the way she had stared at him suggested otherwise. The memory of her wide eyes, filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity, lingered in his mind. He shook his head, trying to shake off the image, but it clung to him like a second skin.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying himself before wrapping a towel around his waist. As he ran a hand through his wet hair, he glanced at the closed bathroom door, half-expecting Yujin to burst back in. But the room was silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Yujin wouldn’t come back, he assured himself. She was polite, considerate—she wouldn’t intrude further. Except… the look on her face hadn’t been entirely innocent. There had been something else there, something he couldn’t quite place.

He walked out of the bathroom, still toweling off his hair, when the sound of the door creaking open made him freeze. His eyes shot up, and there she was—Yujin. But this time, she wasn’t dressed. In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing. Yujin stood in the doorway, her petite frame illuminated by the soft light filtering through the curtains. Her skin glowed, smooth and unblemished, her curves delicate yet enticing. Her dark hair framed her face, which wore an expression of quiet determination.

“Y-Yujin,” Y/n stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He immediately raised his hands to cover his eyes, turning his head away. “What are you doing?!”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a step closer, the sound of her bare feet padding softly against the floor. Y/n could feel the heat radiating from her body, even from where he stood. His heart pounded harder, the blood rushing to his ears.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “You need to see.”

“N-no, I don’t!” he protested, his voice cracking slightly. His hands remained firmly over his eyes, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to look. “This isn’t—you shouldn’t be here like this!”

“Why not?” she asked simply, another step bringing her closer. “You saw me earlier. Isn’t it only fair?”

“That was an accident!” he exclaimed, his cheeks burning. “This is… this is different!”

She was close enough now that he could feel her presence, her warmth pressing against him. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his arm. The touch sent a shiver down his spine, his muscles tensing under her soft caress.

“Let me show you,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “Just… look at me.”

Her fingers trailed down his arm, her touch feather-light but insistent. Gradually, she pried his hands away from his face, her strength surprising him despite her slender frame. His resistance faltered, and before he knew it, his arms were at his sides, his eyes reluctantly meeting hers.

The sight hit him like a tidal wave. Yujin stood before him, completely bare, her body as perfect as he had imagined—no, more so. Her small, perky breasts rose and fell with each breath, her nipples peaked from the cool air or perhaps something else entirely. Her waist dipped invitingly, leading to hips that swayed ever so slightly as she shifted her weight. And lower still…

Y/n swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His gaze lingered, unable to pull away, and he felt a familiar heat building inside him. His towel did little to hide his growing arousal, and he clasped his hands together in front of him, desperate to maintain some semblance of control.

Yujin noticed, of course. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, her eyes darting downward briefly before returning to his face. “See?” she said softly, tilting her head slightly. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

“Yujin…” he started, his voice strained. “This is… this is crazy. We can’t—”

“Why not?” she interrupted, stepping closer still until they were almost touching. Her hands found their way to his chest, her palms flat against his damp skin. “We’re both adults. We both want this.”

“Do we?” he asked, though the question felt hollow even as it left his lips. The truth was, he did want her. Badly. Every inch of her called to him, her proximity making it impossible to think clearly.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss so soft it was almost teasing. Y/n’s breath hitched, his resolve crumbling faster than he could rebuild it. His hands moved without his permission, settling on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together.

The kiss deepened, her tongue slipping past his lips as her hands slid up to his neck, fingers tangling in his damp hair. Y/n groaned into her mouth, his grip on her tightening as the world around them faded into nothingness. All that mattered was her—her taste, her scent, the way her body molded perfectly against his.

Breaking the kiss, Yujin pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, but her gaze was steady. “Tell me you don’t want this,” she challenged, her voice trembling with emotion.

Y/n opened his mouth to protest, to reason with her, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew she was right. He wanted her. Needed her. And judging by the way she was looking at him, she needed him too.

His hands moved again, this time with purpose, skimming up her sides until they cupped her breasts. She gasped, her head tilting back as he thumbed over her nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Encouraged, he lowered his head, capturing one between his lips, teasing it with his tongue.

“Y/n…” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. Her legs trembled, and she tightened her grip on him, her nails digging into his skin just enough to make him groan.

He switched to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, his free hand drifting lower, tracing the curve of her hip before dipping between her thighs. She was already wet, her body betraying the depth of her desire, and the knowledge sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his core.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the word. Her hips bucked slightly, seeking more contact, and Y/n obliged, sliding a finger through her slick folds before pressing it inside her.

She cried out, her body arching into his touch as he began to move, his finger curling just right to draw another gasp from her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter, her nails leaving faint marks as she struggled to hold on.

“More,” she begged, her voice raw with need. “I need more.”

Y/n didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his finger, earning a whimper of protest from her, only to replace it with something far more substantial. Gripping her hips, he lifted her slightly, positioning her over him before slowly lowering her down.

The sensation of her tight warmth enveloping him was overwhelming, and Y/n had to fight to keep his composure as she sank onto him, inch by agonizing inch. Yujin’s head fell back, her mouth falling open in a silent cry as she adjusted to him, her inner walls clenching around him in a way that threatened to undo him completely.

When she finally bottomed out, they both stilled, savoring the moment, the connection. Then, with a slow roll of her hips, Yujin began to move, setting a pace that was torturously slow yet impossibly perfect.

“Yujin…” Y/n groaned, his hands gripping her hips tighter as he guided her movements, helping her find the rhythm that drove them both wild. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, the room filled with the sounds of their shared pleasure—soft gasps, broken moans, the slick slide of skin against skin.

But just as Yujin’s movements grew more frantic, just as Y/n felt himself teetering on the brink, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

“Y/n? Are you in there?” came a familiar voice—Winter’s, laced with amusement.

Yujin froze, her eyes wide with panic as she looked at Y/n, who looked equally horrified.

“Shit,” he muttered, his mind racing. “What do we—?”

Before he could finish, Winter’s voice rang out again, louder this time. “I know you’re in there, Y/n. Open up. Unless… you’re busy".

Winter’s footsteps lingered outside the bathroom door for a moment longer, her voice teasing and light. “Well, if you’re busy, I won’t bother you. Just… don’t take too long.” Her laughter echoed as she walked away, the sound fading into the distance.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, his arm still pressed against Yujin’s mouth as they both stood frozen in place. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure it would give them away. When Winter’s steps finally disappeared, he slowly released Yujin, his hand trembling as he dropped it to his side.

“Are you—” he started, but before he could finish, Yujin surged forward, her lips crashing into his with an intensity that left him momentarily stunned. Her hands gripped the sides of his face, pulling him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. He stumbled backward, his back hitting the cold tile wall of the bathroom, but she didn’t stop. Her body pressed flush against his, the heat between them igniting something raw and electric.

Yujin—the thought flickered through his mind like a spark. She wasn’t usually this bold, this daring. But here she was, kissing him as though she’d been waiting for this moment forever. Her lips were soft yet demanding, and when her tongue brushed against his, he groaned low in his throat, his hands instinctively moving to steady her hips.

She broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, her voice shaky but insistent, “I-I’ve wanted this for so long,” before diving back in, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. Y/n’s head spun, his thoughts a chaotic mess as he tried to keep up with her frantic pace. One of his hands slid up her back, tracing the curve of her spine, while the other cupped her cheek, trying to slow her down, to savor the moment.

But Yujin wasn’t having it. She pulled back slightly, her chest heaving as she looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. Before he could respond, she leaned in again, her lips trailing hot kisses along his jaw and down his neck, each touch sending shivers through his body.

Y/n gasped, his head tipping back against the wall as her teeth grazed his skin. “Yujin, we should—we can’t—” he stammered, but the protest died on his lips as she bit down lightly on his collarbone, her hands sliding under his shirt. Her touch was everywhere all at once, overwhelming and intoxicating.

“Why not?” she murmured against his skin, her breath warm and unsteady. “Winter already thinks you’re busy. And no one else is coming.” Her words sent a thrill through him, even as a small part of his brain screamed that this was dangerous. But when her fingers traced the waistband of his pants, all rational thought fled.

His hands moved on their own, gripping her waist tightly as he lifted her off the ground. She let out a soft yelp of surprise, followed by a breathless laugh, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. Y/n turned, pinning her against the wall, his lips finding hers again in a searing kiss. The taste of her, the feel of her, was driving him wild.

Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head with surprising speed, her nails skimming lightly over his chest as she tossed it aside. Then her fingers were undoing the button of his pants, her movements hurried but deliberate. Y/n’s breath hitched, his mind clouded with need as he helped her push them down, kicked them off clumsily without breaking contact.

Yujin’s own clothes came next, her dress slipping from her shoulders to pool at her feet, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in the dim bathroom light. Y/n’s gaze raked over her, his admiration evident as he took in every curve, every inch of her. She blushed under his scrutiny, but there was no hesitation in her actions as she reached for him again, pulling him close.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency. “I need you.”

That single word shattered whatever restraint he had left. He kissed her deeply, his hands roaming her body as he lowered her to the floor, his weight pressing her into the cool tiles. Their movements were frantic, desperate, as if they were both afraid the moment would slip away if they weren’t careful.

When he finally entered her, they both let out a collective gasp, the tension snapping like a taut wire. Yujin clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he moved, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge. Her moans were muffled against his shoulder, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

It was wild, unrestrained, and utterly intoxicating. Y/n buried his face in her neck, his movements growing more urgent as he felt her tighten around him, her pleasure cresting in waves. “Yujin,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re—god, you’re amazing.”

Her response was a wordless cry, her body arching against his as she reached her peak, her grip on him tightening as if she never wanted to let go. Y/n followed soon after, his release coursing through him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless and spent.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, tangled together on the bathroom floor, their hearts pounding in unison as they caught their breath. Yujin’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, her face buried in the crook of his neck. It was quiet, peaceful, until reality began to creep back in.

“What are we doing?” Y/n asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension.

Yujin lifted her head to look at him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kisses. She smiled, a little shyly now, her earlier boldness melting into something softer. “Something we probably shouldn’t,” she admitted, her tone light but her eyes serious. “But… I don’t regret it.”

He stared at her, torn between the warmth of her words and the nagging guilt clawing at the edges of his mind. This is complicated, he thought. Everything about this is so damn complicated.

Before he could say anything else, a loud knock sounded on the bathroom door, startling them both. “Hello? Are you two done in there?” came Karina’s amused voice, followed by a playful chuckle. “Because I kind of need to use the bathroom.”

Yujin’s eyes widened in panic, and Y/n froze, his mind racing. What the hell were they supposed to do now.

Y/n’s heart pounded as Karina’s voice lingered on the other side of the door. Yujin pressed a finger to her lips, eyes wide with panic, her breath shallow and quick. He nodded, trying to steady himself, but the heat radiating from her body made it impossible to think clearly. They were trapped—in every sense of the word.

“Uh… just a minute!” Yujin called out, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound casual. She glanced at Y/n, her expression a mix of fear and amusement. “What do we do?” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

He swallowed hard, his mind racing. “We can’t stay in here forever,” he murmured back, his voice barely audible. He glanced around the small bathroom for any possible escape route, but there was none. The only way out was through the door—and Karina.

Karina knocked again, this time more insistently. “Come on, you two! What’s taking so long? Did you fall in or something?”

Yujin stifled a nervous laugh, pressing her hand over her mouth to keep quiet. Y/n felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. This is bad, he thought. Really, really bad.

With no other options, Y/n took a deep breath and grabbed a towel, wrapping it hastily around his waist. Yujin followed suit, grabbing another towel and draping it over her shoulders, though it did little to hide the fact that they had clearly been up to something.

“Alright, coming out!” Y/n called, trying to inject some cheerfulness into his tone. He reached for the door handle, hesitated for a moment, then twisted it open.

Karina stood there, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised as she took in the sight of them. Her gaze flicked between Y/n and Yujin, suspicion written all over her face. “Well, well,” she said slowly, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. “Am I interrupting something?”

“N-no!” Yujin stammered, her cheeks turning scarlet. “We were just… uh…”

“Showering,” Y/n finished for her, though the excuse sounded weak even to his own ears. He adjusted the towel nervously, avoiding Karina’s penetrating stare.

Karina tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Together?” she asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

Yujin opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Y/n cleared his throat, trying to salvage the situation. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said quickly, though the way Karina’s eyes sparkled told him she wasn’t buying it.

“Hmm,” Karina hummed, stepping aside to let them pass. “Well, whatever you two were doing in there, make sure it doesn’t interfere with practice later.” She winked, and Y/n felt his face burn.

Yujin hurried past her, muttering something about needing to get dressed, and disappeared down the hallway. Y/n hesitated, glancing at Karina, whose expression had softened slightly.

“You know,” Karina said, her voice quieter now, less teasing, “you don’t have to act like everything’s fine with me. I can see how much pressure you’re under.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “What do you mean?”

Karina sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Being the leader… it’s exhausting. I’m always trying to keep everything together, to make sure everyone’s happy, but…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Sometimes I feel like I’m failing them.”

Y/n frowned, stepping closer to her. “Karina, you’re not failing anyone. You’ve done so much for this group—for me. Without you, I don’t think I would’ve made it this far.”

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said sincerely. “I respect you so much. Not just as our leader, but as a person. You’re strong, kind, and… I care about you. A lot.”

Karina’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she just stared at him, as if trying to process his words. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Y/n froze for a second, surprised by the sudden contact, before hesitantly returning the hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “That means more to me than you know.”

They stood like that for a while, the tension from earlier melting away as they simply held each other. Karina’s warmth seeped into him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. But eventually, she pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she said, her tone serious now. “And I need you to listen carefully.”

Y/n nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. “What is it?”

Karina took a deep breath, her fingers tightening slightly on his shoulders. “I’m not the only one who cares about you, Y/n. The others… they feel the same way. Winter, Wonyoung, Yujin—they all look at you differently. And I can’t stand the thought of you being torn apart because of us.”

Y/n blinked, stunned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” Karina’s voice wavered, but she pushed on, her gaze never leaving his. “I love you. But I know I’m not the only one. So, please… help them too. Be there for them, just like you’ve been there for me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. Y/n didn’t know how to respond. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but one thing was clear: Karina cared deeply—not just for him, but for all of them.

Before he could say anything, Karina leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Take care of them,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, stunned and speechless.

Y/n watched her go, his heart pounding in his chest. Help them? he thought. How am I supposed to do that? He ran a hand through his hair, overwhelmed by the weight of her request.

As if on cue, Yujin reappeared at the end of the hallway, now fully dressed and looking significantly calmer. She smiled when she saw him, though there was a hint of shyness in her expression. “Everything okay?” she asked softly.

Y/n managed a small smile. “Yeah. Just… talked to Karina.”

Yujin nodded, stepping closer to him. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Y/n agreed, his voice tinged with admiration. He glanced at Yujin, noting the way her eyes softened as she looked at him. Is this what Karina meant?

Yujin reached out, gently taking his hand. “Hey,” she said, her voice low and inviting. “Why don’t we… finish what we started earlier?”

Y/n’s breath caught at her suggestion, his pulse quickening. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her smile growing more confident. “More than sure.”

Without another word, she led him back toward the bathroom, her grip firm and determined. As soon as the door closed behind them, Yujin turned to him, her eyes dark with desire. She stepped closer, her fingers tracing the edge of his towel, sending shivers down his spine.

“Let’s make this quick,” she whispered, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Before someone else interrupts us again.”

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle, though his nerves were already on edge. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only for you,” she replied, her voice dripping with promise. Then, without waiting for a response, she kissed him—slowly at first, testing the waters, but soon deepening the kiss until they were both lost in the sensation.

The towels fell to the floor, forgotten, as their bodies pressed together, heat radiating between them. Yujin’s hands roamed over his chest, her touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume them both. Y/n groaned into the kiss, his own hands exploring her curves, memorizing every inch of her.

The shower turned on, steam filling the room as they stepped inside, the water cascading over them. Yujin’s laughter echoed off the tiles, light and carefree, as she leaned back, letting the water soak her hair. Her eyes met his, sparkling with mischief and something deeper—something that mirrored the ache in his own chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Y/n murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

Yujin’s smile widened, and she reached for him, pulling him closer. “So are you,” she whispered, her lips brushing his once more.

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 days ago

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vixen || the proxies

‘lust and drugs, no intuition’

sum: after succeeding in a particularly hard mission, The Operator decides to gift the proxies something they need more than anything else: a stress reliever

tw: filth. pure filthy smut. minors dni. FOURSOME. double penetration, drug usage (don’t do drugs), prostitute!reader, mask play, lowkey humiliation if you squint, throat fucking, overstimulation on the low

a/n: this shit was sooo fun to write. happy 3k!!!

“This was a stupid ass idea.”

Hoodie grumbled, slouching dramatically in his seat. Masky’s side eye was cold, his eyes narrowing under his mask. “How often do we get rewards from The Operator? Besides, do you have a better idea on how to spend it?” Masky asked bitterly. Hoodie rolled his eyes, propping his head on his hand. It would be any moment you were scheduled to arrive, the stale scent of the hotel room making Hoodie cringe.

It wasn’t often The Operator gave his proxies some free time, nevertheless offered a reward for good behavior. Recently the three of them, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby, had somehow won The Operator over just enough for him to grant them some stress relief. “Kate had a better idea, she was smart enough to ask for a steak,” Hoodie grumbled unhappily. It wasn’t that he was unhappy with the prospect of fucking whatever girl waltzed through the door. More so that he had to stay around Masky and Toby to experience it. He and Masky were constantly at each other’s throats, while Toby just annoyed him to shreds. His patience was wearing more thin by the day.

“Kate is also borderline feral and rarely speaks comprehensive words,” Masky argued. While he was trying to keep his cool, his own nerves were becoming evident as he glanced at the clock on the wall. Where were you? “How m-many did boss get us?” Toby chimed in. He had been quiet up until now, Hoodies suspicious that it was due to his obvious inexperience with women. “I’d assume one for each of us, right? He’s swimming in money, it can’t be that expensive to get three,” Hoodie answered. He wondered if they’d fight over who got who. A soft knock at the motel door made the three of them go silent, Masky hesitantly stepping over to the door. He peaked through the peak hole, before unlocking it. To the trio’s surprise you were the only one standing there, your hand clutching your small purse.

“Hi um, i’m looking for the uh-” You paused, reading a crumbled up note you had been clinging onto, “the proxies..?”

Your voice was unsure, Masky giving you an affirmative nod and signaling you to come in. Toby had seen prostitutes many of times, on television at least. But you didn’t look like any of them, the stereotypes all wrong. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding, there were supposed to be three of you,” Masky told you, gently shutting the door behind you. Your eyes nervously dragged to his face, staring at his eerie mask. “Right, about that, well-” You began, clearly nervous. Hoodie couldn’t help but wonder why you were more jittery than they were. “Your boss put on this note that this is a team exercise as much as a reward, the three of you meant to work together with, well, just me,” You explained.

Oh.

No wonder you were shaking in your boots. Three masked men eyeing you like prey, whose mouths were borderline salivating at the thought of fucking you. Masky grabbed the note from you, reading it himself. “You have got to be kidding me,” He grumbled, reading the familiar handwriting. In annoyance he dug in his pockets looking for a box of cigarettes. “All three of us? Is he insane? Look at her, we’ll break her,” He said, gesturing to you. True, you were smaller in stature compared to the three men. Toby stood up first, putting his orange goggles on top of his head. He rounded you like a wild animal, soaking in as much of your body as he could with his eyes. “S-She does look a b-b-bit small,” Toby agreed. Hoodie tilted his head to the side as he studied you. He was always interested in watching how people reacted to one another.

To his surprise despite how intimidating he knew the three of them were, he noticed the light tint of pink that had spread across your cheeks. “Actually, your boss offered me the job specifically. Said out of all of my girls and I, i’d be the only one who could handle it,” You admitted. This confession made Hoodie rise from his chair, walking up to you quickly. His gloved hand squeezed your face, forcing you to pucker out your lips like a fish. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation sweetheart. We’re not like the married men you pluck off of the streets. We can seriously hurt you,” He snarled. His ski mask stared down at you ominously, the tension in the room only becoming thicker by the minute.

“Actually, that’s why I accepted the offer,” You countered. Hoodie’s hardened facade cracked for a moment, his hand loosening. “Said you three with rough around the edges, but that you’d indulge in my darkest fantasies,” You confessed, your face turning a darker shade of red. Masky tossed the note aside, taking a step closer to you. “Oh yeah princess? And that’s that?” The brunette asked. Three sets of eyes stared at you intensely, awaiting your next words. “To be fucked ruthlessly by three mysterious men in mask,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Hoodie couldn’t hide his smirk, his eyes flickering up to his companions. “I think she’s starting to grow on me,” He purred, releasing his grip on your face.

“Before we begin, I also have these,” You say, digging into your purse and pulling out four pills. The boys rounded you in a circle, eyeing them suspiciously. “What’s t-that?” Toby asked. You scratched the back of your neck, as if you weren’t completely sure yourself. “Your boss attached them to the note. Said they’d help us all loosen up a bit,” You explained. Toby was the first to reach for one, popping the tiny pill without a second thought. “Well shit, if the kids doing it,” Hoodie grumbled, following his lead. You met Masky’s gaze, the last two pills sitting in the palm of your hand. “Ladies first, princess,” He said. You had taken ecstasy dozens of times before, but never with clients. You had known of The Operator for years, the girls you worked alongside serving his men on occasion. He had never requested you before though and he had never given his proxies an opportunity like this.

You hard swallowed the pill, cringing as it scraped against the back of your throat. Masky finally took the last pill from your hand, swallowing it as if it meant nothing. “You sure about this sweetheart?” Hoodie purred mockingly, admiring how flustered you already seemed. You shrugged off your trench coat, revealing nothing underneath. Toby��s eyes nearly popped out of his head, soaking in every curve that was exposed. “Knees, princess,” Masky barked, regaining your attention. You did as instructed, your knees scraping against the crusty old carpet. You couldn’t deny the bubbling in your stomach as the three of them surrounded you, undoing their belts in unison. The mixed clinking sounded like heaven to you, your tongue flattening out across your bottom lip.

Toby had taken out his cock first, your mouth gravitating towards him. You licked the bottom of his length from the bottom to his tip, kitten licking his slit. He visibly shuddered, causing you to grin. “You do that too much to the kid he’ll cum right now,” Hoodie snickered. Masky had casually lit a cigarette, tilting his mask up just enough to inhale the stick. “S-Shut up,” Toby argued weakly. Your hands found their way to Masky and Hoodies cocks, Masky more girthy and Hoodie longer. Toby was an even mix of the two, your mouth bobbing up and down on his cock. Your hands jerked the older proxies off, your eyes never straying from Toby’s face. The bottom half of his face was covered with a face mask, but his eyes. Oh, his sweet and delicious eyes stared down at you. You had captivated him, the way you took him to the base.

A rough hand grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking you off of Toby’s twitching cock. “Quit hoggin’ her,” Hoodie snarled. He shoved you onto his cock, your eyes welling up with tears as he hit the back of your throat. You struggled to keep up with his aggression, your jaw going slack as he face fucked you. “Shit, her mascaras running already,” Masky grumbled, inhaling his cigarette sharply. He rutted his hips into your hand, as he exhaled. Your core was aching, your thighs subtly rubbing together to create some form of friction. You could feel the ecstasy taking effect much faster than normal, your ultimate fantasy coming true before your very eyes. Fuck, you owed their boss big time.

Hoodie yanked you off of his cock, a string of saliva attached from his tip to your lips. “Open up your mouth pretty girl, let’s see if you can fit all of us at once,” Masky smirked. He could feel himself letting loose, his gloved hand grabbing your chin. You tried to open your mouth as wide as possible, the three of their cocks competing to shove their way in. “Can’t even suck three cocks? Pathetic. What’re you getting paid for?” Hoodie spat, a sadistic smile hidden by his ski mask. You struggled to breathe as they guided you onto the bed, Masky’s hand grabbing your chin first. “Either these drugs are really good or you’re looking really fuckin pretty princess,” He grumbled. He could feel warmth spreading through out his body, the exhaled cigarette smoke escaping through the sides of his mask. He loomed over you, leaning close towards your ear.

Your body was practically vibrating with anticipation, a chill running down your spine. “Maybe sometime i’ll have you for myself, just you and me,” Masky rambled, talking more than he usually did. A firm set of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, resulting in your back colliding with the mattress. “You’re s-s-supposed to share, remember?” Toby asked, relieved at the sight of your bare breast. He eagerly leaned over, pulling down his mask. His gash was hidden on the over side of his face, his pale gray skin a light shade of pink as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back nearly arched off of the bed, your nipples hardened and more sensitive than normal. “Hey loverboy, since you’re so in love go ahead and make yourself useful and stretch her out for us, will you?” Hoodie asked, tapping the head of his cock on your lips. Your tongue rolled out on instinct, licking the underside of his shaft.

Masky tossed the cigarette aside, using his gloved hands to pry apart your thighs. Your cunt was so wet it was almost dripping down your thighs, a sight so painfully mouth watering it took everything in him to not yank off his mask and dig in. Instead he took a deep breath, his body buzzing with euphoria. “Keep her mouth busy,” He replied. Hoodie smirked at his command, shoving his cock down into your mouth. With confidence you were unable to see him, the brunette slipped off his mask. He used two of his gloved fingers to open your folds, admiring your drenched sex. “Fuck, she’s so fuckin wet for us,” Masky grumbled, before attaching his lips to your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure almost mind numbing as he sucked harshly at your clit. Toby released your nipple, the bud growing only more sensitive from the abandonment of his warm mouth.

Toby reattached his mouth to your other breast, ignoring the feeling of your heart pounding against your rib cage as he sucked. “Feelin good sweetheart?” Hoodie asked mockingly, his ominous stitched frown staring down at you. His cock brutally hit the back of your throat, your moans vibrating his shaft further. Masky’s hands tightened around your thighs, keeping them pried apart as he devoured your cunt. “Awe does that feel good? Having Masky eat that pretty pussy of yours?” Hoodie continued, relishing in the sight of your thighs squeezing his partners head. The warmth spreading across Toby’s chest only made him more feral, his hips involuntarily grinding against the bedding as his teeth grazed your nipple. “This is what you wanted right? Your ultimate fantasy right?” Hoodie continued. His fingers were tangled in your hair, yanking ever so often. He enjoyed watching your body react to his every word, your skin littered with goosebumps.

“You’re trembling already. How are you gonna handle all three of us at once if you can’t handle a little foreplay?” Hoodie continued. He watched you attempt to keep up with his thrust, your mind spinning. Toby released your nipple, attaching his lips to your breast. “Awe you poor thing, the kids gonna litter you in as many marks as possible. Hope you like hickies,” Hoodie continued. You could feel your core tightening, Masky’s tongue relentless as he lapped at your clit. You could feel his tongue poke at your entrance, one of your hands flying down to his hair. Your hips grinded against his face, your breath shuddering as Hoodie pulled out of your mouth. Sinful moans instantly spewed from your lips, bouncing off of the motel room walls. “Sounds like someone’s close to cumming, how cute,” Hoodie grinned. He pulled your hair to continue looking up at him, preventing you from seeing Masky’s exposed face. “Go on sweetheart, cum on his face,” He cooed.

Toby released a patch of your skin with a pop, a shock of electric euphoria crashing down over you. Your back arched off of the bed as you came on Masky’s tongue, his hooded eyes watching your face as you shamelessly came. His gloved hands were harsh, keeping your thighs pried open. He continued to devour you until he was sure you were done, his chin coated in your juices as he emerged from your thighs. “I want her cunt,” Masky said instantly, claiming your pussy for his own. Hoodie grunted as he helped rearrange you, Masky pulling down his mask as he laid underneath you. On all fours you hovered above him, feeling Hoodies gloved hands pull apart your cheeks from behind. “Fine by me, kid you get her mouth,” Hoodie ordered. Toby was slowly jerking off cock, kneeling beside your mouth. ��W-Why can’t I get her ass?” He bickered.

You could feel Masky’s hands slide down your hips, causing you to bite your bottom lip to refrain from whimpering. “Because you’re going to nut in five seconds and I plan on fucking her until she can’t walk,” Hoodie argued. You could feel Masky align himself with your entrance, before pushing himself inside. Your velvet walls clung to him instantly, your loud moan interrupting the arguing at hand. You grabbed onto his mustard jacket, feeling him bottom out inside of you. “Fuck princess, you feel so fuckin, warm,” Masky sputtered. He could feel his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment, the ecstasy hitting him far harder than he could’ve imagined. It was like he could hear all of you, your breathing, your heart beat, even the little whimpers that were clawing their way out of your throat.

For a brief moment he swore he could’ve met your gaze, Toby’s thin fingers guiding your face to his cock. You teasingly sucked the tip, feeling Hoodie shove himself inside of you. “We may need to take her home, shit, she didn’t even need any, fuck, prep,” Hoodie groaned, bottoming out as well. Your head was spinning, the taste of Toby’s salty precum dancing on your tastebuds. Your body was electrified with warmth and lust, your vision growing spotty as you felt Masky and Hoodie begin to move. You grabbed handfuls of Masky’s jacket, unable to stop your sinful moans. Even as Toby guided you to suck his cock, your unholy noises were still as loud as ever. Masky grabbed your hips, noting the way tears free flowed down your cheeks. He rammed upwards into you, noticing the way your eyes rolled back into your head.

“That’s it princess, you can take it,” The brunette praised, mesmerized by you. You looked ethereal, falling apart between the three of them like this. Your jaw had gone slack and was growing sore as Toby used your throat as he pleased, satisfied in the gagging he made you produce. Hoodies hips never let up for a moment, his brain on auto pilot as his body rammed into you. Insults swam around his brain, failing to leave his lips as he fucked your unexplored hole. The four of you were too high to play mind games, addicted the feeling you gave one another. You felt caught in the middle, completely cock drunk as three strong pairs of hands kept you upright. “Feels soooo g-g-good, motherfuckin- I can’t,” Toby whined, his hips stuttering. He hadn’t anticipated his orgasm, his body producing one without any warning. His cum flooded your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you swallowed all that you could. Toby watched, mesmerized as you continued sucking him half hard.

He was twitching in euphoria, his hands fallen by his sides as he soaked in the overstimulation. “Knew the kid was gonna cum first,” Hoodie grumbled, his fingers digging so hard into your skin they promised bruises in their morning to come. Masky felt like he was breathing on manual mode, his breath shallow as he looked at you. “Princess, touch yourself. We’ll hold you up. Cum on our cocks so we can fill you up,” Masky offered, his words much more softer than he meant for them to be. Dazed, you used your spare hand to slither down to your clit, drawing sloppy circles around the sensitive bud. Your body began to tremble, Toby’s cock falling out of your mouth as you dropped your head. Your moans were babbles and curses, your mind completely cock drunk as Masky and Hoodie fucked you at the same time.

“Ha, feel that Masky? She’s about to cum already. Filthy girl,” Hoodie snickered, pretending that he wasn’t on the edge as well. Masky’s smooth voice was like the light at the end of the tunnel, the only thing you could audibly hear. “Come on princess, cum for us. Cum for me. Be good,” He encouraged, fucking upwards into your g spot. Your vision became hazy as you came, sweat dripping down your forehead and body trembling in their grasp. Your knuckles were white from grabbing Masky’s jacket so hard, your body withering in euphoria. The boys didn’t take long after that, cumming inside of your ass and cunt as they pleased. The four of you were entangled messes, the ecstasy overriding any sense of pride or moral obligation.

It was Toby who spoke first, cheeks flushed pink.

“So, we’re bringing her home with us right?”

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scoutofmymind · 3 days ago

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hey loved your fics you are incredibly talented. i have a scene picture some angst reader is kinda like jo march if u watched little women and luigi is laurie in that one hill scene. basically reader prioritizes acads because of her upbringing - high achiever, academic validations, the whole package and luigi somehow is the same but he compels the reader in a magnetic way because luigi gets to be so carefree and awesome about it and turns out luigi and reader have a common thread and it's turning out rlly good but then reader is slightly scared of commitment in a relationship dare i say? because it was all acads for reader even though there were dreams of having a relationship, it all seemed abstract and unreal!! and the angst comes when luigi confesses to reader and reader reacts very defensive i suppose spitting out word vomit enumerating reasons why luigi shouldnt like her and how he's too good for her and luigi just shuts reader up by pinching their cheeks and holding them steady saying i want you all of you all that sweet stuff...this is just a thought i want to say i admire you heavily your writing is pivotal

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, pining, best friends, purest love, summer, unrequited, lowkey gut-wrenching (sorry)

Wc: 6,843 (I could not stop writing)

Notes; Before we begin, I have to say, anon, I very much enjoyed writing this!! And thank you so much for sending me this request! ✨ there are only a couple bits of dialogue that match the hill scene, but I wanted to throw them in there!

This is lowkey a mini-fic, so enjoy!

Side note: If anything is badly edited, I will likely come back to do some cleaning up. But maybe not. Also I’ve started picking songs to include in requests wherever they may fit in. I want to mention too that backstory is something I just simply can’t leave out when it comes to angsty or emotional scenes, so I’m sorry I literally can’t shut up.

The cicadas weave their summer hymn through the gentle lap of water against stone, your body stretched across whisper-soft grass beside the reservoir.

This spot holds years of you both — echoes of skinned knees and bruised elbows soothed by cool spring water, of childhood dares and teenage secrets.

"You never swim with me anymore." Luigi's voice carries no accusation, just a quiet observation that somehow makes it worse. You can picture his expression without looking —that gentle, knowing thing that always sees too much. "All you do now is torch yourself in the sun."

Your back peels away from the grass, elbows bent to prop you up. Through his borrowed sunglasses — because of course you forgot yours back at the house, and of course he had a spare —you study him.

He's summer personified: water-darkened hair curling at his temples, shoulders golden in the early evening light, wearing a smile easy as breathing.

"I just don't want to get my hair wet, Lu." You say it with the comfortable certainty of someone who's had this exact argument a hundred times before.

"Well, don't then." His retort is quick, familiar. He moves through the water with an easy grace that somehow makes the old reservoir look more inviting than it ever has, though you'd never admit it.

Your shoulders are painted with freckles from all these summer days — chasing chickens in the fields, racing bikes into the city with him riding at your back, his presence as constant as the seasons.

"But then when I get out, I'll be cold." The words float between you like lazy dragonflies, and Luigi just shakes his head, spattering droplets that catch the light.

He pouts, but not like you do.

Where your pouts are theatrical productions, his is a quiet thing — eyebrows drawn together in thought, bottom lip pulled inward instead of jutted out dramatically. His gaze fixes downward at his feet beneath the crystal-clear water, methodically toeing one stone over, then another, like the placement of each pebble might solve some grand puzzle.

You watch him wage his silent war of reorganization, using nothing but his ten toes as construction equipment. It's such a Luigi thing to do — finding the smallest tasks to occupy himself instead of splashing around like he usually does, trying to tempt you in.

"Bet the water feels incredible," he murmurs, more to the stones than to you. His toes have created a perfect semicircle now, a tiny amphitheater beneath the surface. "Like that lemonade your mom makes — you know, the one with mint?"

You do know.

The kind she only makes when the temperature crawls past ninety, when the air feels thick enough to chew. Like today. You can almost taste it — tart and cool and perfect — which is exactly what Luigi intended with that particular comparison, the sneak.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," you inform him, but you're already sitting up straighter, your legs beginning to tingle from staying still too long in the sun.

The grass has left impressions on your skin, tiny crosshatched patterns that Luigi always says look like secret maps, his fingers drawing lines upon them.

He doesn't look up from his underwater construction project, but one corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Never claimed to be subtle. That's your department, avoiding the water like it's personally offended you."

"The water hasn't offended me," you say, though you draw your knees up to your chest, putting another inch between you and the shoreline. "We have a mutual understanding. It stays there, and I stay here."

"Mhm." Luigi abandons his stone circle, wading a few steps deeper until the water laps at his knees, stood there in his trunks, the cobalt blue ones that hit just above his mid-thigh. "And how's that working out for you? Enjoying your dusty patch of grass while I'm out here living like a king?"

The problem is, he does look a bit regal out there, all long limbs and easy grace, like he was born for summer days and spring water.

You've known Lu since you were both gap-toothed and gangly, but sometimes — like now — he seems to have grown into himself while you weren't looking.

Yet, your own limbs still feel too long, too awkward, like you're wearing a costume that doesn't quite fit.

Meanwhile, Luigi wears summer like a second skin, all easy movements and natural grace, as if the universe decided to polish him up while leaving you in your perpetual state of stumbling through doorways.

"A king of minnows, maybe," you counter, but you're already uncurling, letting your feet stretch toward the water's edge. Not to join him, obviously. Just to... test the temperature.

"Ah," he says softly, watching your toes creep closer, his voice taking on a funny narrators tone, an accent thrown in that sounded similar to his fathers. "The snail emerges from her shell."

"Shell-less snails are just slugs," you inform him primly, but dip one toe in anyway. The water isn't as cold as you expected — it never is, but that doesn't stop you from putting on this show every single time. "And I'm neither."

"No," Luigi agrees, dropping the accent but keeping that amused lilt in his voice. "You're more like- like one of those hermit crabs. The ones that think really hard about switching shells but then just stick with the same one anyway."

You splash water at him with your foot, and he doesn't even try to dodge. "Fuck, Lu —That's the worst analogy I've ever heard."

"Is it?" He takes a few steps backward, deeper into the water, like he's laying out a trail for you to follow. "Because you're still sitting there, thinking about coming in, just like you do every time.“

Luigi could easily remember all the days spent here, in this very body of water together — the secret collection of precious gems that were really just polished river rocks, the fossil that turned out to be an old bottle cap, and that infamous river snake from an overturned stone that had you shrieking and refusing to dive under for weeks.

"Can't be thinking about doing it if I'm already doing it, Lu." You roll your eyes, your shins now lapping gently with clean, cool water. The trees droop overhead like nature's own parasol, their leaves casting dappled shadows that dance across your shoulders.

He's quiet for a moment, watching you with an expression you can't quite read. And then. “Remember when we thought we found actual dinosaur bones here?"

"You mean the plastic fork?"

"A very convincing plastic fork."

The water feels like silk against your skin now, and you find yourself wading deeper without really meaning to. It's muscle memory, maybe — your body remembering what your mind keeps second-guessing.

"At least I wasn't the one who tried to sell it to the museum.” you remind him, the water now swirling around your waist. Each step stirs up tiny clouds of silt that disappear into the clear water.

He splashes in your direction, grinning. "We were tweleve! And Mrs. Henderson at the museum was very nice about it."

"She gave you a cookie and a lecture about scientific integrity."

"Exactly. A win-win."

You're deep enough now that you have to lift your arms to keep them dry, though you're not sure why you're bothering. Your bikini is already clinging to you, and that familiar weightless feeling is starting to take over — the one that always made you feel brave before.

"You know what your real problem is?" Luigi quips, but this time his voice is gentler. "You forgot how to play."

The words hit harder than you expect, maybe because there's no teasing in them now.

Just truth, floating there on the surface like a leaf.

"I didn't forget," you say quietly. "I just- I put it away somewhere."

The look in his eyes tells you exactly what's coming, but muscle memory kicks in before you can retreat, your arms already up in defense position as he sends a massive splash your way, the arc of water catching sunlight like scattered diamonds before it hits you full in the face.

"Luigi!" you shriek, but you're already laughing, already moving. Your soul remembers this dance even if your mind's been trying to forget it, and the water parts easily as you lunge toward him, years of practice making your movements swift and sure.

He tries to dodge, but you know all his tricks — the way he always feints left before going right, how he can't resist staying just within splashing range.

The water battle that ensues is immediate and fierce, both of you laughing and gasping, sending waves in every direction, limbs smacking into each other at times, your body trailing away from his while he charged closer.

"See?" he manages between splashes. "The Queen of minnows!”

You're about to respond when your foot slips on a smooth stone, and suddenly you're going under.

For a split second, panic flares — but then the tranquility and silence envelops you, and it feels like greeting an old friend, your eyes open underwater, seeing the filtered sunlight create shifting patterns all around you, and suddenly you remember why you used to love this so much.

When you surface, pushing wet hair from your face, Luigi is watching you with a grin, his sunglasses pushed away from his face and atop his head instead, nestled in his damp black curls. “You got your hair wet.” He gives you one last gentle splash, his grin so carved into his features it may as well be everlasting.

Luigi, the son of Marco Mangione, whose genius lay in transforming his grandfather's modest Milan carpentry shop into Mangione Artisan Living — now a name whispered in the same breath as Fendi Casa and Bottega Veneta's home collection.

When Marco married Sofia Bernardi in the 80’s, a celebrated interior designer, they moved to America, the local papers painting it as another wealthy foreigner's passing fancy — this modernist villa rising among cornfields and weathered barns.

But Marco had seen something in these hills that reminded him of Tuscany, in the calloused hands of local woodworkers that echoed his grandfather's.

The Mangione Mansion stands like a slice of northern Italy transplanted to American soil, with its stark geometries softened by groves of imported olive trees and terraced gardens.

It's a world away from your family's farmhouse, where the paint peels in honest patches and the screen door creaks a familiar welcome, yet Marco moves between these worlds with effortless grace, discussing the merits of different wood grains with your father across the fence line, or clearing out your mother's farmer's market stall of preserves, declaring each jar Perfetto, just like my Nonna's! with the same genuine warmth he uses to greet European royalty.

Luigi, who could have been pressed into private academies and dinner jackets, groomed for Ivy League legacies and country club memberships, had instead grown up alongside you in public school — though his future was cushioned by both financial security and natural brilliance.

You can't remember a time when academic excellence wasn't your north star — every assignment a stepping stone, every grade a battle in the war for your future.

Being a veterinarian wasn't just a dream, it was your escape route from the endless cycle of farm life that had worn your father's hands to calluses and bent your mother's back.

Perfect attendance since kindergarten, straight A's through AP Biology, even showing up on Senior Skip Day — just you and Lacey Williams, the would-be neurosurgeon, bent over your textbooks in an empty classroom.

Now here you both are in the water — you with your scholarship letters and student loan applications waiting at home, him with acceptance letters from Harvard and Yale gathering dust on his desk.

Two lives that should never have intersected, meeting in the middle of sun-warmed water, your shared freckles catching golden light, limbs tangling as Luigi feints another playful attack.

•

Summer buzzes by your eyeshot like a cicada in a hurry, the season winding down with cooler, longer nights and shorter, blazing hot days.

August comes barreling through like it always does, hot and sticky air clinging to your skin as you sit with Luigi upon the sloped side of the barn, a Birds Eye view of the farm, this very spot the first place the two of you had tried smoking weed, the very first time you ogled at a traumatizing porn everyone at school was talking about — this spot, worn from years of shared moments together is the very place you create some distance.

For the first time.

“I think I want my own party this year.”

The words land like a stone in still water, ripples of hurt crossing Luigi's face before he can master his expression.

For a moment, he looks eight years old again, standing in the tall grass with his first American birthday cake — the one your mom made because his parents were still learning that birthdays here meant homemade frosting, not elegant catered affairs and grand garden parties.

"Oh," he says, and it's the smallest you've ever heard his voice. "Yeah, of course. That makes sense. We’re turning twenty-two. Not eight anymore.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes, hands fidgeting with the bracelet you’d made him years and years ago — the same nervous tell he's had since childhood. "Actually, Ma’s been saying I should do something more — you know, formal this year anyway."

The lie sits between you like a third person.

Luigi, who once convinced his parents to move his elaborate garden party to your barn because you had the flu has never cared for formal anything.

You can see him rebuilding his walls, brick by careful brick, protecting himself the way he never had to with you before.

"Send me pictures though?" he adds lightly, but there's at least fifteen years of shared candles and off-key, bi-lingual singing wrapped in that request, fifteen years of your mom's chocolate cake and his ma’s tiramisu side by side on the same table.

"Luigi, it's not-" you start, then pause, because it is exactly what he thinks it is. A separation. A gentle fracture. "I just need to figure out who I am without- without being part of a matched set. Does that make sense?"

The words feel clumsy in your mouth, inadequate to explain this need that's been growing since your acceptance letter arrived.

You watch him nod too quickly, the way he does when he's processing something that hurts.

The same way he looked when Benny, one of the milking cows had passed three summers ago, or the way he looked when you told him you couldn’t go on the Mangione trip to Italy, desperately needing the vet clinic hours.

"My party's probably just going to be pizza with my study group anyway," you continue, trying to make it sound smaller than it is, even though you've already planned every detail — your first real birthday party that isn't shaped around accommodating both your worlds. "And you should do something spectacular. Twenty-two is a weird number, but you could make it your thing.“

He laughs, but it's his polite laugh, the one he uses at his father's business dinners. "Maybe I'll rent out that new rooftop place in the city," he says, playing along with this sudden pretense that the two of you haven't spent months quietly planning your joint party like every year before. "Very grown-up."

The space between you fills with unspoken memories — dual parties with increasingly ridiculous themes, the year you both got chicken pox and celebrated in quarantine together, or the year his mother hired a magician who pulled you both on stage as assistants.

Fifteen years of wishes and synchronized candle-blowing, and you’ve put an abrupt end to it, with not so much as a warning.

"You're not mad?" you ask, even though you can see he is — not angry-mad, but hurt-mad, the kind that makes his shoulders tight and his smile too careful.

He stands abruptly, brushing invisible dirt from his shorts. "Mad? Nah, come on. We're not kids anymore." The words come out just a touch too fast, too light. "Actually, I should head back. Papa wanted to discuss something about the company tonight."

It's barely seven, and Marco's in New York City until Thursday — you both know this. But Luigi's already stepping back, that practiced social smile firmly in place, the one he uses when he needs to retreat but is too polite to say so.

"Night," he calls over his shoulder once he scales the side of the barn down to the grass again, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You watch him walk away, his usual easy stride now stiff and measured, leaving you alone with just the sound of the bullfrogs near the pond, and the chickens settling in their coops for the night.

The sunset feels colder somehow, and you wrap your arms around your knees, trying to convince yourself this is what growing up looks like as you sit there until the mosquitoes start biting, watching the space where Luigi disappeared and wondering if this is what independence is supposed to feel like — this hollow victory that tastes nothing like freedom and everything like loss.

•

The late August evening slowly begins to melt into night, the air carrying whispers of autumn though summer still reigns.

You breathe in deep — catching hints of hay being baled in distant fields, leaves just beginning their subtle shift from green to gold, and lake water evaporating off sun-warmed skin. The pontoon boat hums steadily beneath you, loaded with friends sprawled across every available surface, their laughter echoing across the darkening water.

You'd done your best to prepare them all, carefully explaining the separate celebrations to avoid awkward questions.

But Luigi's absence feels like a shadow you can't shake — in the pause after every joke, in the empty space at the boat's stern where he always sat, in the way conversations drift and fade without his easy charm to bridge them.

You're learning that some people leave gaps too precisely shaped to fill, and you catch yourself waiting for sounds that aren't coming —the full-bodied laughter that usually ricochets across the lake, the constant stream of Luigi's commentary that made even silence feel alive.

No one's standing at the boat's edge, goading others into increasingly ridiculous diving contests. The absence of these things sits heavy in your chest, like missing the last step on a familiar staircase.

"Good for you for doing your own thing this year," Mia offers, wine sloshing in her solo cup as she gestures vaguely. "Must be nice not having to compromise on everything for once."

Not really, you think.

The evening settles into dinner in the back garden, strings of lights casting warm halos over familiar faces — relatives, neighbors, friends who'd trickled in as the day aged and as if on cue, the peaceful scene splinters at the sound of tires on gravel and a booming voice that makes your stomach drop.

"Where's Luigi?!"

Cousin Tony's borrowed truck sits askew on the path, driver's door still swinging open like an afterthought.

He bounds toward you, one arm clutching what's clearly a wine bottle wrapped in what looks like yesterday's newspaper, his face bright with the anticipation of seeing his favorite duo.

The sight makes something in your chest twist.

He’s always treated you both as his own blood, never drawing lines between family and chosen family.

You're crushed into a bear hug before you can dodge it, his familiar cologne mixing with engine grease as you try to breathe through compressed lungs, but he’s still calling for Luigi over your head, each shout making the other guests shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"He's somewhere in the city, Tone," you manage to wheeze out.

Your phone burns in your pocket, where Luigi's latest Instagram story sits unopened — some rooftop view you're deliberately not thinking about.

"What'da ya mean?" His grip loosens just enough for you to see his face fall, confusion creeping into his features like a slowly spreading stain.

"We're... trying something different this year," you say, words feeling clumsy as you glance over your shoulder at the laden table — a spread that still unconsciously includes all of Luigi's favorites alongside your own. The sight of his mother's recipe for stuffed shells sitting next to your grandmother's pierogies makes your throat tight.

"Well, is he at least comin' later?"

"No." The word falls between you like a stone. "He couldn't cancel his reservation without losing the booking fee, so I just told him it was fi-"

"No, no, mia cara," Tony drags his hands through his hair, face crumpling like you've just told him the world is ending. "Potrebbe essere l'ultimo!" The words tumble out in his rushed native tongue, his distress making him forget himself.

"You just said that in Italian." Your voice sounds far away, even to your own ears, like it's coming from the bottom of a well.

"Shit — It could be your last time, cuginetta." Tony's sigh seems to come from his bones as he pulls out his phone, cursing when he sees the no-service icon.

"My last time?"

Tony lifts his head slowly from his phone screen, eyes finding yours with a weight that makes your stomach drop. "What — oh, Dio — do you mean to say he has not told you?"

"Told me...?” You brace yourself, chest aching with a sudden, sharp regret for all those breakfast lessons with Luigi's nonna, her patient voice guiding you through pronunciations you'd carelessly let slip away between coffee and lunch.

"He got big'a job in the big city," Tony's hands sweep upward, as if trying to encompass the vastness of a metropolis that stretches far beyond any gesture could capture. "Saying bye-bye forever to smelly farm." His hands fall, and his expression softens into something dangerously close to pity. "Sorry.”

"Leaving? Like — he's moving there?" The words feel strange in your mouth.

You're standing in the same garden where you and Luigi once buried treasure maps at age eight, where you learned to cartwheel together at twelve, where you shared your first illegal beer at sixteen — and suddenly it all feels like archaeological evidence of something that's already gone.

"That's where zio Marco is now, making sure Princess Luigi has all the things he need there for — uh—" Tony lapses into rapid Italian, but you've already stopped listening, the rest of his words fading into white noise.

You're hung up on the present tense of it all — Luigi’s father is there now, apartment hunting, setting up a brand new life while you stand here in your shared history, surrounded by people who apparently knew more about Luigi's future than you did.

The realization hits very suddenly.

Luigi was moving away, and he spoke not a word of it to you.

Tony manages a plate of food before borrowing your landline, desperate to track down Luigi in the sprawling city and when his truck finally crunches back down the gravel path, you feel it like a physical wound — as if he's taking a piece of you with him, torn straight from your core, yet, you maintain your composure with award-winning precision, a smile fixed firmly in place as guests filter away into the darkness.

You go through the motions, accepting kisses on cheeks, graciously receiving gifts labeled with just your name - no more Dynamic Duo or Thing 1 and 2 scrawled in familiar handwriting.

You help clear the garden, stack chairs, wash dishes that held food Luigi would have fought you for the leftovers of. You kiss your father's cheek goodnight, and tell your still-bustling mother you're heading out for some stargazing.

It's not entirely a lie.

You do end up beneath the stars, though you hadn't exactly planned to collapse here by the waterfront, where the distant dock creaks its lonely song, the splash of jumping fish and the bold croaking of nearby bullfrogs barely register — sounds that would normally make you jump now feel as distant as satellite signals.

You're lost in the undertow of your thoughts, barely noticing the warm tears tracking down your neck until your t-shirt is damp with evidence of a grief you didn't know you needed to prepare for — the silence holds you, envelopes you, and you’re almost convinced you can disappear here until-

"Hey, stranger."

His voice cuts through the cricket symphony like a knife, and you freeze, tears still wet on your face.

You don't turn around — can't turn around — because you know exactly what he'll look like: silhouetted against the moons full and distant glow, wearing that stupid designer jacket he bought last month that suddenly makes too much sense.

Big City boy.

The grass whispers beneath his feet as he approaches, each step measured like he's greeting a spooked animal.

It's funny — he used to just crash down beside you, all elbows and laughter.

When did you become something he had to be careful with?

"Tone called me," he says softly, still standing. "Said he found you but couldn't find me." There's a pause, heavy with unspoken words. "Told me other things, too."

The lake laps at the shore, a steady rhythm that used to calm you both on countless nights like this.

Now it just sounds like a countdown.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice sounds small against the vastness of the lake, broken and confused, betrayed and disbelieving.

"Would it have changed anything?" His words come sharp, defensive. "Would you have suddenly decided to stay?"

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" The laugh that escapes him is bitter and unfamiliar. "You want to talk about fair? I watched you apply to every college more than fifty miles away. Watched you light up talking about leaving, about getting out. Never once asking—" He cuts himself off, his gaze turning up instead at the trees that sway and rustle in the midnight air, a chill taking your spine.

"Asking what, Lu?”

"If I wanted to come with you." The words hang in the darkness between you. "If maybe I had dreams too, ones that didn't involve watching you disappear."

"I never said you couldn't-“

"What do you think I was going to do, wait around forever?" His voice cracks at the end, brittle and broken. "God, I've spent my whole life orbiting you like a personal Pluto. I don't even remember my life before you." He paces now like an agitated zoo animal behind a sheath of thin glass, just out of reach. “And yet, you expect me to stay here without you? While you go to college, make your own dreams come true?"

The moonlight catches his face as he turns, and you see something break in his expression. "I would have waited. I would have always waited, but fuck—" His hands tremble as they rake through his hair. "You've pushed and pushed and pushed me away. Every college application, every excited story about your future somewhere else, the party -“ he watches as you stand, your posture ridged and nervous, but attentive.

"Lu, please -“

"So what do I do?" His voice drops lower, trembling. "I have to think of myself too. I have to accept that we won't always be this way." He watches as you scrub your hands over your face, your unsteady legs carrying you off the dock.

The cool, damp grass beneath your feet becomes an anchor, something real in a moment that feels anything but.

He follows, his body angled toward yours like a compass finding north. "But it didn't have to be like this." His voice softens to barely above a whisper, his dress shoes crushing the grass with each step.

"Well, what exactly did you expect?" You whirl around, wiping furiously beneath your eyes, moonlight catching the tears on your cheeks that refuse to be unseen. "We were going to play in the river forever? Did you think we'd just find our way without ever trying?" The words come out harder than you mean them, sharp with the kind of anger that's really just fear in disguise.

"I- you-" Luigi's voice breaks.

His eyes are bloodshot, the bridge of his nose red from earlier tears hastily wiped away in the party bathroom. In the half-light, he looks both younger and older than your shared twenty-two years — a boy trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers, a man facing his first real loss.

"You know, maybe it might have been that easy for you, Lu." Your eyes drift to the Mangione Mansion, its windows gleaming like jewels against the dark hills, an anomaly among the endless cornfields. "You never had to lift a finger — it always just..." You gesture vaguely, bitterly. "Fell into place."

The words taste like copper in your mouth, sharper for how unfair they feel.

Because he's always shared everything.

Those lavish family dinners where his mother insisted you sit next to her, those delicate necklaces from Rome that he'd drape around your neck with careful fingers, those shopping trips where his nonna would press dresses into your arms with a conspirator's wink.

He's never once made you feel like charity.

But there are some things that can't be shared, some advantages that run deeper than generosity.

While you pieced together credits between evening classes and online courses, fighting for every inch of progress, he'd come home rolling his eyes at another Harvard letter, another Yale recruiter calling.

You take a deep breath, feeling the summer air fill your lungs, and air that smells like it always has, like corn silk and cut grass and the all-consuming night. "Did you think we'd just stay here in our bubble, Lu?" Your voice softens despite yourself. "The only place we've ever known?"

All he can do is stand there, helpless, caught between a nod and denial.

His expression crumples into something raw and pleading — such a far cry from the boy who, just last week, had painted patterns across your skin with river mud, both of you laughing until your sides hurt.

The same boy whom you could communicate with without even speaking to, who knew exactly how you took your coffee, who was born the day before you, and who could read your silences like a book he'd memorized; yet now he's looking at you like you're written in a language he never learned to speak.

"No." The word propels you forward, feet moving before your brain catches up.

His face softens into something unbearable — like watching a star collapse in slow motion, finally understanding that this isn't just another one of your theoretical late-night talks about the future.

His carefully constructed composure crumbles, leaving behind something young and scared and achingly real.

"I love you." The words fall from his lips like muscle memory, like breathing, like the thousands of times before — whispered against your hair during movies, shouted across parking lots, mumbled sleepily during long car rides. But now they land heavy between you, a weight pressing against your chest until it hurts to breathe. "I always have, and I always will—"

"No. No, Lu." Your voice cracks on his name, and your pace quickens, bare feet crushing grass beneath desperate steps.

But he matches you stride for stride.

“My life has been so intertwined with yours, when you began to pull away - I- I panicked,” He was rambling now, quick and out of breath but keeping up with you nonetheless, the two of you navigating the vast property, moon and starlight the only thing guiding your path. “I settled on what I knew would be easiest,”

“That’s the problem.” You stop again to look at him, your chest heaving. “You don’t need to settle, Lu — you’re brilliant, you’re so fucking brilliant-“ he grabs your wrists gently, taking several steps to close the gap between you.

"I have never settled on you." Luigi's voice goes rigid, cracking in the middle like ice breaking over deep water. Each word carries the weight of years — shared secrets, dreams whispered under blanket forts, and promises made in tree houses. "You have always been my first option."

You catch your breath, the familiar warmth of his hands on your wrists suddenly feeling like shackles.

Your head shakes, slow and deliberate, as you try to pull back — but his grip steadfast remains. "How would you know of the other options?" The question comes out softer than you mean it to, weighted with everything you've both been too scared to say. "Do you know yourself without me?”

"I don't want to know myself without you."

"Luigi. Please stop-“ You wrench your wrists from his loosened grip, your feet carrying you forward through the night but he follows, like an echo you can't shake, like a shadow that refuses to fade with distance.

His words tumble out faster now, chasing the shrinking space between you and home, visible through the wavering corn stalks like a lighthouse warning of rough water ahead. "I know I'm not — I know I'm not Matthew Williams, or that guy that works the stables near the Bradshaws. And I know I’m not a perfect man, but—"

You stop once again, so abruptly this time he nearly collides with you, turning to face this strange new version of Luigi — one you've never seen before, one who wears his insecurities like an ill-fitting suit.

He's brave, you'll give him that, but he's also terrified in a way that makes your chest ache.

This boy who's never had to compete for anything in his life, suddenly listing off names like entries in a contest he thinks he's losing.

"You stop that." Your finger jabs at his chest, connecting with the expensive fabric of his jacket. "You are the most-the most magnificent person I have ever met, Luigi. And you're not perfect, no-“ You swallow against the rising bile, against the irony of having to defend him to himself when you're the one walking away. "But you're honest, and you're good — a goddamn great deal too good for me."

The last part comes out like a confession, like something you've carried so long it's carved itself into your bones — the real reason you're running, the fear that someday he'll wake up and realize it too.

The night holds its breath around you, your ragged exhales mixing with his in the space between heartbeats, and the trees shiver their leaves like witnesses to your undoing, crickets falling silent as if they too understand the gravity of this moment — this closing act.

"But-“ You step into his warmth, drawn forward like a moth to flame, even now, knowing it would burn. You’re close enough to catch the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with fresh-cut grass and summer sweat. Close enough to see the moonlight catching in his eyelashes. Close enough to break both your hearts properly. "I can't love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The words tear themselves from your throat like barbed wire, each syllable drawing blood.

Your stomach twists inside out, acid creeping up your throat again, "I can't love you like that. I’m - I’m so, so sorry, Luigi — I just - I can’t,

His hands find your face with the reverence of a prayer, thumbs brushing across your cheekbones like he's trying to memorize the geography of your skin. "Listen to me," he whispers, his voice thick with desperation. "Listen."

The tenderness in his touch nearly breaks you — the way his fingers tremble against your jaw, the gentle circles he traces beneath your ears, the familiar callous on his right thumb from his tree-climbing habit.

His forehead drops to rest against yours, and you can feel his breath hitching, unsteady and warm against your lips.

"You've already loved me better than anyone else ever could," Luigi's voice cracks, splintering like ice in early spring. "You love me exactly as I am — not the heir, not the prodigy, not the Mangione name." His hands slide into your hair, “You have loved me even though I can’t remember to help feed the hens, but I can recite every constellation. And you’ve loved me even though I name every cull cow — even though you think it’s cruel.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, and the raw hope in his gaze is almost unbearable. "Please," he breathes, the word more air than sound. "Please don't decide for both of us what kind of love I deserve." His thumbs catch the tears you didn't realize were falling, smearing them across your cheeks like war paint. "Let me choose.”

“Then choose someone else!” You shake your hands at him, helpless and wishing to disappear. “I - I’m so unsure of myself - every goddamn thing I do, Luigi. I break everything, I’m useless at being a homemaker. I’m awkward, I’m a black sheep, even all the way out here.”

You aren’t made for the big city like he is.

The moonlight catches in his dark eyes, turning them to liquid as they search yours. "I don't need perfect love. I don't need textbook romance or fairy tale." His voice breaks, raw with honesty. "I just need you. But - but I can’t live like this forever" He’s speaking faster than you’ve ever heard the smooth-talking, easy going Luigi say anything.

You try to turn away, to escape the weight of his words, but his touch holds you steady — gentle but unwavering. "Luigi — let me the fuck-“

"No," he breathes, the word ghosting across your lips. "No, don't push me away because you think you're protecting me. Don't make decisions about what I can handle." His fingers thread through your hair, cradling the back of your head. "I choose this. I choose the messy parts, the broken parts, the parts you think are unlovable. I choose all of it."

I am stopping this here. Love you 💕

#req #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfic #also thanks so so much for the compliments anon!! I’m here to serve you

224 notes · View notes

4linos · 15 hours ago

Text

they call you clingy.

ot8 x gn!reader

warning: really angsty, feeling insecure/unworthy, no happy endings. (sorry)

wc: 8708

bang chan

You and Chan had been together for a while, and things were generally great between you two. You had your own lives, your own routines, but there was always a sense of closeness between you that you both cherished. Lately, though, you’d found yourself tagging along with him more often, especially when he had dinner plans with the members.

At first, he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed having you around, and the other members seemed to appreciate it too. Some of their girlfriends were there as well, so it felt natural, like a group gathering. But after a while, you started coming along more frequently, not wanting to spend evenings apart. You thought it was a way to spend more time with him, but you could tell it was starting to weigh on Chan, though you weren’t sure why.

Chan said nothing at first, but you could tell he became quieter and more distant throughout these dinners. He looked at his phone more frequently, and his smile seemed forced when you spoke with him or the others. Still, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was just your imagination. You weren't doing anything wrong by wanting to be with him, right? You had every right to join him on nights when he was with the other members. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

One evening, as you all gathered for a casual dinner at a restaurant, the atmosphere was different. You were laughing, eating, and talking with some of the other girls when you realized Chan was particularly quiet. He was nibbling at his food and not really participating in the conversation. You leaned over to him, laying your hand on his arm, attempting to draw him into the moment.

"Chan, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle and anxious.

He shuddered slightly at the contact and gave you a fake smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he said, but the tiredness in his voice was clear. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did. It felt like he was pushing away from you just a little. Your stomach twisted as you tried to ignore the unease creeping in. Then, the conversation shifted. As the dinner continued, someone brought up how often you came along with Chan to these meals. You didn’t think much of it at first, but you could feel his discomfort growing.

“Honestly, though,” Chan suddenly chimed in, his voice a little more sharp than usual, “it’s getting a bit much. She’s always tagging along. It’s like she can’t ever be away from me. It's kind of suffocating.”

The words hit you like a smack in the face. You froze, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension in the air evident. You could feel everyone's gaze on you, and your cheeks reddened with shame. You tried to shrug it off, believing it was a joke, but the expression in Chan's eyes revealed his disinterest. He was not joking. Time seemed to slow down, and you could feel the sting of his words settling deep within you. Without thinking, you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom, your chest tight and your eyes welling with tears. You locked yourself in a stall and tried to calm your pounding heart, but the words replayed in your mind over and over again. “Clingy,” “suffocating.” You felt small, insignificant, and utterly hurt.

Meanwhile, at the table, the other members exchanged glances, seemingly uneasy about what had just happened. After a minute, Hyunjin spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Chan, that wasn't cool, man. Why would you say anything like that? She isn't clinging at all. She's just trying to spend time with you."

Felix nodded in line, his tone quiet yet forceful. "Yeah, we really like having her around. She makes things more fun, you know? I don't understand why you'd say something like that.”

Chan wasn't sure how to answer. He had meant it as a joke, something to relieve the stress he'd been experiencing lately, but now that he'd heard the other responses from the others, a rush of shame swept over him. He felt he'd crossed a boundary, but it wasn't until they spoke out that he recognized how serious the situation was. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered, but his apologies seemed hollow even for him.

His thoughts was muddled by remorse, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely embarrassed. "I think you should go talk to her," Minho said softly. "She is probably really hurt right now. You have to make it right."

Chan’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to think about how badly he’d hurt you. His usual confident self was gone, replaced by a knot of regret.

lee know

It was one of those days. The sort where everything you touched seemed to fall apart, and every corner you turned revealed another disaster ready to happen. The day began with your boss screaming at you for something you didn't even do, his anger pouring out on you as if it were your responsibility that the world was collapsing. You hardly had time to calm yourself before spilling your coffee all over your blouse at lunch. The entire day had been an upsurge of humiliating incidents, missed deadlines, and biting your tongue to resist snapping at everyone who gave you the wrong look.

You were physically and emotionally drained when you arrived home. You just wanted the day to end, to close your eyes and forget everything. However, when you walked through the door, you were welcomed by a familiar, comfortable smell.

Minho was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and humming softly to himself while making something. Your heart lifted a little because he was here, cooking for you. The simple gesture of kindness was a welcome breath of fresh air after a long day of drowning.

You stood by the door, hesitant whether to interrupt, but then he turned toward you with a gentle smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You forced a smile, despite the weight of the day pressing on you. “It was... fine. I’m just glad to be home.”

He noticed the weariness in your eyes and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. It was the kind of comfort you needed, even if you didn’t know it until he offered it. “Relax. I’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you just sit down and take it easy?”

You nodded, thankful for his concern, but something inside you refused to just sit back and do nothing. It felt awful to be passive while he was so busy. "Let me help," you volunteered, heading near the counter, attempting to gather yourself after a stressful day. Minho gently shook his head, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "There's no need. "Please relax, okay?" You couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. He was always so selfless and compassionate, and you didn't want to be someone who just sat by. Instead of disputing, you nodded and gave in to his desire. He was right, after all; you could use a break. “Alright. But give me something small to do.”

Minho paused for a moment to contemplate, then assigned you a tiny task. "Okay, could you please tidy up a little while I finish the soup? Just wipe down the countertops." It seemed simple enough.

You took a rag and followed his instructions while he worked on the soup. The house was peaceful, almost serene, and you hadn't felt that type of peace all day. It was good to be here with him and feel like you weren't confronting the world alone.

But in the middle of cleaning, your eyes darted to the pot of soup on the stove. It smelled incredible like something he had poured his heart into. You felt a surge of gratitude, the kind that made you want to help him, to show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

Without thinking, you decided to move the pot, to give him a little more space so he could focus on finishing everything. You gently lifted the heavy pot, but as you tried to shift it, your grip faltered. The edge of the pot slipped from your hand, and in an instant, it tilted, the boiling liquid splashing violently all over the kitchen floor and onto your leg.

You screamed out in shock, the searing heat of the soup burning into your skin, but the pain on your leg was nothing compared to the way everything seemed to shatter around you. The kitchen became chaos. The pot had fallen, splattered everywhere, and the delicious smell was suddenly replaced with the pungent scent of spilled soup. You tried to gather yourself, but the kitchen was now a disaster, and so were you on the verge of tears, overwhelmed, hurt, and defeated.

Minho turned when he heard the accident. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance in an instant. You looked up, and his eyes were filled with anger. The following words he said struck you harder than the burn on your leg. "Why are you always so clingy? I spent hours making that! "If you had just stayed out of the way for once, this could have been avoided!" His voice was harsh and slashed through the air like a razor. You stared at him, frozen in shock.

Was this actually happening?

His words felt like a punch to your chest. They were not what you expected, not from him, not when you were already dealing with the weight of the world. Your mind scrambled to make sense of it. How had it come to this? How had you gone from being the person he always tried to comfort to someone he now seemed to resent?

He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. "God, I can't believe this," he said quietly, shaking his head. You always do this. You always get in the way. "Why can't you just relax and let me do it?"

You couldn't react because your heart was hammering painfully in your chest. You had spilled more than simply the soup. It was not only the mess. It was the sting of being accused of something you never wanted to do, like being too much. You did not want to be a burden for him. You never intended to make things more difficult, yet everything you did seemed to make things worse.

Minho sighed, looking at the mess with frustration. “Just… go to the room or something,” he snapped, turning away from you.

You stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling smaller than you ever had before. You knew he was angry, but the way he dismissed you, the way he acted like you were just an inconvenience, was something you hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t usually like this. But right now, it felt like you had done something unforgivable. It felt like everything you had ever tried to do for him had been wrong, every gesture of kindness or help misplaced.

Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, trying to steady yourself, but your hands trembled with the weight of his words. Hot tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. The physical pain in your leg from the burns was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You had wanted to help, to make things better for him. But now, all you could do was try to tend to your own wounds both physical and emotional alone.

You pulled yourself up slowly, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, trying to find the strength to move. Minho was still in the kitchen, silent now, cleaning up the mess you had made, but his anger still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

You left him there, retreating to your bedroom, feeling more isolated than you had in a long time. The night was quiet, but the silence between you and Minho felt louder than ever. And in that silence, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep trying to be the person he wanted you to be when everything you did seemed to push him further away.

changbin

The evening started out like any other. You and Changbin were going to go to the gym together after a long day. You were excited to spend more time with him, especially since you had been trying to join him at the gym more often recently. At first, it seemed like a fun bonding activity. You'd go to encourage him, attempt to keep up with some of the exercises, and simply enjoy being with him. Changbin had always been a bit of a lone wolf, preferring his own time to recuperate, but he'd been nice enough to let you tag along at first.

You didn’t realize that things had slowly started to change. What had initially felt like an innocent way to spend more time together had started to weigh on him. Maybe it was because you’d started following him around everywhere always just a few steps behind, trying to do what he was doing, lingering around him during his sets. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his usual space anymore. But whatever the reason, Changbin was beginning to feel the pressure, and he didn’t know how to tell you.

You had no idea how much your presence at the gym was bothering him. He wasn't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad about wanting to spend time with him, but tonight was different. He could feel his patience fading and his irritation growing the more you wanted to incorporate yourself into his routine. It was supposed to be his time to escape. He needed the gym to be his sanctuary, a place to unwind and clear his mind. But tonight, as you followed him from machine to machine, everything came to a head.

The air in the gym seemed heavier than usual. Changbin could feel his patience fraying as you followed him for what seemed like the umpteenth time. You weren't doing anything wrong, yet he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that you were constantly present. His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall; he'd been here for nearly an hour. And it wasn't that you were clingy in an obnoxious way; it was simply that you were always with him, which was enough to frustrate him.

He couldn't concentrate, couldn't clear his mind as he used to. You were always there, following his every move, asking questions about his setups, and attempting to get in the way of his routine. His thoughts were clouded, his mind no longer able to concentrate on the iron and his own movements. He couldn’t unwind. He couldn’t breathe.

When you followed him to the weights area once again, his frustration bubbled over.

“Y/N, can you just stop?” he snapped, his voice harsh and sharp, completely different from the usual warmth you were used to. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Can you just let me have this one thing? The gym isn’t supposed to be some place where you follow me around all the time. I need it to be my own. I need my space. You’re always here, and it’s... it’s too much.”

You froze, a cold shiver of confusion running through your body. Your eyes flickered from his irritated face to the ground, unsure of what to say. You had always been so excited to share things with him, and this was the last place you thought something like this would happen.

“B-Bin... I didn’t—" you started, your voice faltering, but he cut you off, his frustration spilling over.

“You’re always clinging to me, Y/N. And at first, I thought it was cute. But now? It’s just too much. The gym is supposed to be my alone time, somewhere I can relax, somewhere I can focus. But you’re here, and I can’t even do that anymore,” he said, each word feeling like a weight crashing down on you.

Your chest tightened and you found yourself unable to breathe for a little while. It felt as if the world had stopped moving around you, and all you could hear was the flow of blood in your ears. You weren't expecting to hear those words from him. Changbin had always been supportive and loving, even if he was a little protective of his space. What about now? Now it felt like he was pushing you away. And the way he avoided your gaze while he spoke, as if he couldn't stand to witness the pain he was causing, you could feel your heart breaking piece by piece.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat was too big, and the pain was too overwhelming. You weren’t clingy. You just wanted to be close to him. You didn’t realize that your presence, something you thought was innocent, had been smothering him. But hearing it from him so bluntly… it felt like a punch to the gut.

You said nothing at first. Your body was stiff, your eyes filled with unshed tears. You wanted to say something, but the words would not come out. Instead, you simply turned slowly and began to walk away. "I'll go," you said softly, your voice barely audible. Your steps were wobbly as you approached the exit. Changbin turned around, his heart sinking into his chest. It hit him, followed by the look in your eyes. Your lips quivered. He realized what he had just said. The frustration and fury had been misplaced. He didn't mean to hurt you. He wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted. But it was too late now. The damage was done.

“Y/N—wait!” he called after you, but it was no use. You didn’t even turn around. You just kept walking, your back stiff, your steps hurried.

hyunjin

(a/n: you and hyunjin aren’t a couple here, you’re childhood best friends)

The after-party had been buzzing with energy all night, full of celebration and the kind of chaotic, joyful atmosphere that followed every successful concert. It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a chance to let go of the weight of the stage and just relax with friends. You, however, couldn’t seem to shake off the knot of tension that had been growing inside you for weeks.

It hadn’t been an abrupt change, not really. Hyunjin, your best friend, had slowly started to become distant. At first, it was subtle, a shift in the way he looked at you, the way he barely seemed to notice when you were around. But now, it had become glaringly obvious, especially in moments like this, when you found yourself desperately trying to keep the connection you two had built over the years.

You’d always been there for him, supporting him through everything the highs and the lows. But lately, whenever you tried to lean on him, he pulled away. The distance between you had begun to feel insurmountable, and tonight, surrounded by the group at the after-party, it felt like the final straw.

You felt an odd, uncomfortable pull as soon as you walked inside the party. The sight of Hyunjin laughing with the rest of the group should have made you happy, but instead it made your chest tighten with anxiety. He looked... unusual. His eyes, the way they avoided yours, made it clear that something had changed between you two. You despised the sense of being on the outside, like you didn't belong anymore.

You had tried to give him his space during the last few weeks, respecting the growing distance between you. But tonight, you were determined to be present. To pretend as if everything was still fine.

After all, you were his best friend, right?

You moved over to where he was sitting, talking with Seungmin and Jeongin. When they saw you approaching, Jeongin's face lit up with that warm, welcome smile that always put you at at ease. He gave you a warm nod and motioned for you to join them, which you immediately did, thinking that the familiarity of the situation could help the uneasiness that had begun to settle over you. But once you sat down, Hyunjin's tone changed. His eyes flicked across to you for a quick, unreadable look before returning to the others. You tried not to take it personally, but it hurt. Jeongin was chatting animatedly about something, but you couldn't pay attention. All you could think about was how Hyunjin had practically turned his back on you.

After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You leaned closer to Hyunjin, trying to keep your tone light, as if everything were normal. “Hey, Hyunjin... you good? You’ve seemed off lately.”

He looked at you, his expression suddenly sharp. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly, and there was a coldness to his voice that cut through you like ice.

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been able to talk through things before, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to acknowledge you. You tried again, your voice trembling just slightly, “I’m just checking in... I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distant.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, as if he were irritated with you asking. “You’re always around,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t need you following me everywhere. It’s annoying.”

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, the weight of his comment sinking deep into your chest. You had no idea where this was coming from. You had always been there for him, not because you needed to be, but because you cared about him. You wanted to be there. But now, suddenly, it felt like you were an inconvenience.

The room felt suffocating, the noise of the party growing distant as you tried to process what he had just said. You had always been careful not to smother him, always tried to give him space. But now he was telling you that your presence, your very existence, was too much for him.

It was too much.

The lump in your throat grew, but you weren’t going to let him see you falter. You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, but you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that came flooding to the surface. You had tried so hard to be understanding, to be patient, but this was too much to handle.

Before you could say anything more, you snapped. “You know what, Hyunjin? I’m not following you around,” your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m only here because Felix invited me. As his date.”

The words hung in the air, sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. You could feel the sting of betrayal, the way Hyunjin had made you feel small, and the anger bubbled up inside you. The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention now focused on the exchange.

You didn’t look at Hyunjin. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned on your heel, your pulse pounding in your ears, and walked straight to Felix, who was standing nearby. He gave you a surprised glance, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, offering you a comforting presence in the midst of your emotional storm.

You didn't speak for a time, your thoughts racing from the argument, but Felix didn't press you to explain. He just let you sit there in peace, his arm resting comfortably on your shoulder. You leaned into him, attempting to center yourself and escape the overpowering pain that threatened to consume you whole. Felix did not deserve to bear the burden of your wounded heart, but in that time, his comfort was the only thing that made sense.

Hyunjin's gaze stayed fixed on you as the party went on. But you refused to look his direction. He'd already made it apparent that your presence no longer mattered to him. He had driven you away with his hurtful words, and as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew deep down that it was too late to fix things.

The rest of the night was a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how he had made you feel so small, so insignificant. The person who had once been your best friend, who had always been there for you, was now the one who had cast you aside. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know why.

As the party wound down and everyone began to leave, you stayed close to Felix, not looking back, not wanting to face Hyunjin. You didn’t know what had changed between you two, or why he had suddenly decided that your friendship wasn’t worth his time. All you knew was that the person who had once been your closest confidant, the one who knew all your secrets and fears, had just torn your heart apart.

And you didn’t know how to fix it.

HAN

The evening began like any other, or so it was supposed to be. But Jisung felt as if the world was pushing down on him with every step he made into the apartment. The intensity of the day still clung to him, like a physical weight of frustration, disappointment, and tiredness. He had spent hours in the meeting with the company staff, only to hear criticism for the smallest mistakes and missteps. It wasn't the first time, but it always hurt. This time, however, it seemed different; he couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy.

The door clicked behind him, and the familiar aroma of home didn't bring much comfort. Instead, it was almost smothering. His limbs ached, his mind raced, and all he needed was peace, time to unwind.

But you were there.

You always were.

As soon as he walked through the door, your eyes searched his face, and he could see the concern etched over your features. He could tell you'd sensed something was wrong. He attempted to disguise it when he saw you earlier that day, brushing off your "are you okay?" with a quick "yeah, I'm fine," but now, as you stood there with that sweet look in your eyes, he couldn't help but see it. You could look right through him, like glass.

"Jisung," you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tone you always used when you knew he was struggling, "are you sure you're okay? You don’t look okay."

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked. You'd been asking since the moment he came home, like you always did when you saw him worn down, like you always did when he looked like he was holding a little too much in. But no matter how well you meant it, no matter how much you truly cared about him, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Not today. Not tonight.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

You hesitated, eyes scanning him again, sensing the distance between his words and the tension in his body.

"Jisung… I know you’re not fine," you said softly, a frown pulling at your lips. You reached toward him, wanting to bridge the gap that was widening between you, but he stepped back before you could touch him.

"I’m fine," he repeated, louder this time, irritation lacing his voice. "Just stop asking."

Your heart twisted, but you tried to swallow the hurt, not wanting to push him further. But you couldn’t stop yourself from trying again, desperate to get him to open up. "Please, I can tell something’s wrong. If you need to talk, I’m here."

He froze at that, hands clenched at his sides, jaw clenched. His frustration, the irritation that had been building inside him all day, finally cracked open.

"I said I'm fine!" He snapped, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with anger, not at you, but at the world that had worn him down. "Why are you always so clingy? It's annoying. I do not need you hovering over me like this. I don't need you constantly keeping tabs on me!" The words were biting and nasty. You trembled, a flood of hurt smashing over you, but you tried to stay calm.

You couldn't help but feel the sting of dismissal and the weight of his harshness. "I'm just trying to help you," you said softly, your voice quivering slightly. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Why don't you let me help?"

He glanced at you, the spark of guilt in his eyes swiftly drowned out by the a flood of frustration within him. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to apologize. He knew he hurt you. But the words did not come, and he had no idea how to make it right. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted when everything inside him felt like it was about to come apart.

You did not wait for him to say anything. The anger, bewilderment, and hurt welled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and marched out, your footsteps loud and strong as you made your way to the bedroom.

The door slammed behind you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. You sank onto the bed, feeling the weight of the frustration both his and yours press down on your chest like a suffocating blanket.

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to feel this way. You had only wanted to help him. To be there for him when he was struggling. But all he had done was push you away.

You heard no footsteps, no soft knock on the door. Normally, when something like this happened, he would come after you. He would apologize, his voice soft and regretful, and you’d make up. He’d say something about how it wasn’t you, how he was just having a hard time. But this time, the silence stretched on. The door stayed closed.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t coming.

The silence felt so loud, so suffocating, and it only made everything hurt more. He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to soothe you like he always did.

And maybe this time it wasn't all about him. Maybe it was more than simply his tiredness and irritation. Maybe it was about something deeper, something more than just a bad day at work. Your heart broke at the thought that he might have pushed you away because he didn't know how to accept you. Maybe he'd been hiding his pain for so long because he was frightened to show you the parts of himself he thought were too shattered. Maybe he was just too stressed to recognize that you weren't a burden, but rather someone who wanted to help him shoulder the weight.

But right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had called you clingy, had pushed you away when all you wanted was to hold him close.

You curled up in bed, hugging your knees to your chest, and tried not to cry.

You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt the weight of the bed shift beside you. Jisung’s presence was always so familiar, so warm, but tonight it felt distant. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, in the darkness, as the minutes dragged on.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t know if you could ask him again if he was okay. Not yet. Not until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t.

felix

It had been one of those days where everything seemed strange, as if a thin film of tension had been applied to the edges of everything you did. The kind of day where even the most basic tasks felt significant, and no matter how hard you tried to make things feel normal, you couldn't escape the growing distance. Maybe you chalked it up to stress. Maybe it was just a phase. Everyone goes through a hard stretch, right? But when you woke in the middle of the night, your hand instinctively going for the warm spot beside you, only to find it empty, that emotion became too strong to ignore. Felix had always been the one to stay close, even in sleep. He was always so attentive to your needs, so present. But now, the space between you was cold, and the bed felt too large without him there.

You sat up, the quiet of the room pressing in on you, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. The soft glow of the TV in the living room flickered across the hallway, casting long shadows.

As you made your way down the hall, you saw him there, slumped on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen but unseeing, staring at it like it held some answer that he couldn’t quite grasp. You could see the strain in his posture, the weight of something pressing on him, but he didn't acknowledge you as you approached.

You stopped a few feet away, unsure what to say. The silence between you two felt like a wall, immovable and unbreakable. This wasn't the Felix you knew, the one who would always offer a comforting smile or an encouraging word when you needed it. This version of him was remote and frigid, as if he built a fortress and did not plan to let anyone in.

"Felix," you whispered slowly, trying not to shock him, your voice trembling with emotion. "What's wrong?"

He didn’t respond at first, as if he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like it added more distance between you two. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and it hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Nothing,” he muttered, though it was clear that wasn’t true. His words didn’t match the heaviness in the air, the emptiness that had settled between you two. “Just… leave me alone, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Leave him alone? You didn’t understand. Since when had he ever asked you for space, especially like this? Felix had always been the one to reach out, to comfort you, to be the one you could lean on when things got tough. But now, he was shutting you out, pushing you away.

You stood there, paralyzed, staring at the back of his head as the emptiness in the room seemed to swallow you whole. His posture was stiff, almost defensive, like he was trying to make himself smaller, trying to hide from you, and it hurt more than you ever expected.

"You don't have to be so clingy all the time," he said, his voice more clipped and distant than you'd ever heard. It was as if the words were spoken by someone else, a stranger in the body of the person you loved.

Clingy? The word resonated in your thoughts, sending you reeling. You'd never considered yourself clingy. Have you really gotten so annoying? Was your affection and presence too much for him? You couldn't understand it. The connection, the intimacy that had once been so natural between you two now seemed so far away, as if it were a dream you couldn't fathom.

“I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry, not to show him just how much his words had wounded you. “I just wanted to know what’s wrong. You’re… you’re not like this, Felix. Not with me.”

You took a tentative step forward, hoping that your proximity would reach him, that your presence would somehow break through the wall he had built around himself. But he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, and that hurt more than anything else. It was the silence, the refusal to face you, that felt like a betrayal.

"Please talk to me," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched him remain motionless on the couch, his eyes still fixed on the television, as though he could pretend you weren’t even there.

But Felix didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his focus on the screen, the distant expression on his face more painful than any argument. You could feel the distance between you growing, spreading like a chasm, and it felt like you were standing at the edge, about to fall into the void.

It wasn't always this way, you thought, recalling times when simply being in the same room was enough to make you feel connected. It seemed as if you blinked and everything had changed. He wasn't the same Felix who would stay up with you when you were feeling sad, holding you and whispering comfort in the darkness. The man who had once looked at you with warmth and love now seemed so distant, like a stranger you didn't recognize.

Your heart ached; the anguish of losing him, feeling him slide through your fingers, was almost excruciating. You could not tolerate the deafening stillness between you any longer.

With a last, desperate glance at him, you whispered, “I’m here, Felix. I’m always here for you. If you need space, if you need time, I’ll give it to you. But I just… I just need to know you’re okay.”

But he didn't respond and didn't move. His silence hurt worse than words could, and you realized, with a sickening feeling, that you had no idea where you stood in his life. The Felix you knew, the Felix who would always reach out to you, seemed like a memory you could no longer grasp onto. You turned away, your feet feeling heavy as you walked back to the bedroom, the distance between you two becoming more than just physical.

The weight of his disinterest crushed against your chest, smothering you, and you wondered whether things would ever be the same again. Will he come to you eventually? Would he tell you about what was bothering him, or had you already lost him in ways you couldn’t fix?

You climbed back into bed, the sheets cold where he should have been beside you. And as the night stretched on in silence, you tried not to feel the unbearable emptiness that had settled in your heart, wondering if Felix would ever look at you the same way again.

seungmin

The front door creaked open, and you could hear Seungmin's footsteps in the hallway, dragging slightly, indicating how exhausted he must have been after a long day of practice and vocal lessons. You'd been waiting for him, possibly too eagerly, though you tried not to admit it. You had planned to talk, the conversation you'd been putting off for days because the silence had gotten unbearable. The subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he became more distant and engaged in his own world, weighed heavy on your chest.

You knew how busy he was, how much work he put into his training and craft. But it didn't take away the sting of feeling like an afterthought, as if you were no longer a part of his life. You had tried to keep it together, to give him his space when he needed it, but the continual feeling of being neglected was gradually pulling you apart. You needed him to see you. You needed him to care the way he used to, to put forth the same effort that you did.

So, as the door clicked shut and you heard him move toward the kitchen, you braced yourself and entered the hallway to greet him.

"Seungmin," you called softly, but there was no immediate response. He didn’t even look up, didn’t even glance in your direction.

You took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety from choking you. "Can we talk?" Your voice was steady, though you could feel the tremor beneath it. "It feels like we’re not the same anymore."

His footsteps faltered for half a second, and you thought maybe you had caught his attention. But instead of stopping, he just continued walking past you, brushing past your shoulder so closely you could feel the coldness radiating off him. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

"Seungmin," you said again, but this time there was a little crack in your voice, a vulnerability you didn't want to express. You needed him to hear and see you, even if just for a moment. But he did not stop. Finally, he gave a low, exasperated groan that hung between you like a wall. He turned halfway, his eyes flickering to you with an enigmatic expression. "Why do you always make things so dramatic?" His comments were harsh, cutting through the silence and making you flinch. "You're really clingy. Just leave me alone for once."

The words were like a punch to the gut. The force of them knocked the wind out of you, and your heart seemed to stop for just a moment, trapped somewhere in the space between your chest and throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say something so cold, so dismissive. All you had wanted was to talk, to bridge the distance that had formed between you, but now it felt like you were drowning in it.

Your body went still. You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how unfair that was, but no words came. How could you even argue against that? How could you explain that all you wanted was his attention, his care? You weren’t clingy you were hurt.

"Seungmin, I’m not—" The words tumbled out weakly, but they didn’t seem to matter.

"You are," he interrupted, his tone now flat, distant. "I don’t have the energy for this right now."

He turned away from you, heading toward the kitchen without another glance, leaving you standing in the hallway, shattered.

You stood there for a long moment, frozen in the aftermath of his words. Everything you had been holding back, all the frustration, the confusion, the loneliness that had built up over the last few weeks, was suddenly crashing down on you like a wave. Was that it? Was that all you were to him now? Someone who was too much to deal with?

You had never felt so small. So invisible.

You had tried to keep it together. You had told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just stressed, that he didn’t mean it. But now, standing there in the hallway with nothing but the echo of his dismissal ringing in your ears, you realized that maybe this was the problem the distance. The lack of communication. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you could never reach him, never get him to understand what you needed, what you were hurting from.

You wanted to chase after him, to try again, to make him see how much his words had stung. But something inside of you had broken. There was a voice inside you now that said, "It’s too late. You’ve tried. He doesn’t want to listen." And that was more painful than anything else knowing that, deep down, he didn’t even want to meet you halfway anymore.

You had hoped, and even prayed, that things would return to normal, that the love you once shared would reemerge. But standing there, you couldn't help but feel as if you were fighting a losing war. You didn't ask for much: simply his time, presence, and devotion. You never expected this level of coldness in return.

The silence in the home became intolerable, and each second felt like a weight on your chest. You wanted to yell at him and urge him to care, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the barriers between you two grow higher and higher.

You turned away slowly, your legs heavy, your head spinning with everything you had just heard. You didn’t know what hurt more: his words or the fact that he had walked past you like you were nothing.

You needed him to care, but right now, it felt like the person you needed was already gone.

I.N

The evening had been everything you hoped it would be: thrilling, warm, and full of laughing. You'd been dating Jeongin for about a year, and he was finally introducing you to his members. It seemed like an important milestone in your relationship. You'd heard so much about them, and now you'd get to meet the people he cared about the most. The anticipation had you beaming all evening as you helped Jeongin in cooking dinner, your heart filled with delight at the prospect of cooking together and spending time with the people who were such an important part of his life.

The dinner had gone smoothly. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the sound of happy chatter and the clinking of silverware. The members were friendly, teasing each other and joking around. You could see why Jeongin was so close with them they were like brothers, comfortable and at ease with each other. You had felt so welcomed by them, their laughter contagious, and the food you had helped prepare had been met with praises.

As the night wore on, everyone settled into the living room, enjoying sweet treats and wine. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening, or so you had thought.

But as the evening wore on, you noticed something that made your stomach churn. Jeongin was distant. He had been quieter than normal, with his focus wandering. Normally, he would be the first to steal a kiss from you or press his hand on yours if you were close. But tonight? Tonight, it felt as if he was purposefully keeping distance between the two of you.

You brushed it off at first, believing he was just weary or stressed after introducing you to everyone. After all, meeting his members was a major step, and maybe he was just concerned with making sure things went smoothly.

But it wasn’t just that.

When you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, like you had done numerous times before without thinking twice, he pulled away almost immediately. The action was swift and sharp, as if you had done something wrong. You blinked in surprise, a frown tugging on your lips, but before you could ask what was wrong, he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "Stop being so clingy." The words struck you like a physical punch. You froze, the warmth of your feelings for him vanished, replaced by a frigid knot of perplexity and embarrassment. Did he mean it? You could feel the weight of the members' gazes as you looked around the room, though no one said anything. But you could tell they had heard, the awkward silence that followed making it painfully clear.

You felt heat rising up your cheeks, humiliated. Had you overstepped? You had never been clingy before and had never thought of yourself in that way. But his comments, which were cutting and contemptuous, hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. The casual tenderness you had always shared seemed like a distant memory today, a bitter reminder of how things had changed without warning.

Jeongin had always been so warm and tactile with you. Kisses on your cheek while cooking, his arm slung over your shoulder while watching TV, all the little things that made you feel safe and cherished. But tonight? Tonight he was a different person.

You tried to ignore it, thinking maybe it was a bad moment. Perhaps he was just tired, or maybe something had happened at work or with the members that was weighing on him. But as the night continued, the distance between you only seemed to grow. When you tried to brush your hand against his, he pulled it away, a small frown on his face. When you tried to rest your head on his shoulder again, he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your touch with a small sigh.

It was as if you were a stranger to him, someone he couldn’t stand to be close to.

Your heart dropped. It was a feeling you never expected to have with him, the type of coldness that made you question everything, including the entire foundation of your relationship. You had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the way he was treating you now felt so different from the Jeongin you had fell for.

You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and prevent yourself from entirely disintegrating. The quiet hum of the talk in the living room followed you as you walked back, the members' voices merging into the background as your thoughts occupied you.

Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he was embarrassed by you, by your clinginess. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as the guy who couldn’t control his girlfriend. Maybe you were being too needy, too dependent, and he just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he had changed, and you were the one who had failed to notice.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the tightness in your chest. When you returned to the living room, you tried to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. But the look on Jeongin’s face when you came back made your stomach twist even further. He didn’t smile at you like he usually did. He didn’t reach for you. He just sat there, a distance between you that felt like an ocean.

You sat down again, feeling smaller than you had with him before. You did not want to confront him in front of the other members. Not when things were going so well. You didn't want to ruin the evening or make things uncomfortable for everyone. But the awkwardness was already there. It seemed like a thick cloud suffocating you, and you knew he felt the same way.

Eventually, the evening came to an end. The group began saying their goodbyes, laughing and conversing, although their voices were scarcely audible. You were too consumed by the subtle tension between you and Jeongin, who hadn't spoken anything to you since your previous conversation. You gently grabbed your stuff, not quite meeting his eyes.

When you reached the door, Jeongin still hadn’t moved. He was standing by the couch, talking to one of the members, completely ignoring you. It wasn’t how you thought it would go. This wasn’t how you imagined the night would end.

It wasn’t until you were halfway out the door that he finally spoke, his voice distant, flat. "You okay?" he asked, as if the tension between you hadn’t been there all evening.

You stood frozen, looking back at him, your chest tight. You wanted to say so many things. You wanted to ask why he was acting this way, to demand an explanation, to tell him how hurt you were by the way he had dismissed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice quiet, strained. "I’m fine."

And then you stepped out, leaving the apartment behind, the discomfort and uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick cloud. You had no idea what had happened or what had caused this abrupt change, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something in your relationship had just broken. Something that might not be fixable.

And as the door clicked shut behind you, you weren't sure if Jeongin noticed.

(proofread ❌)

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clarii · 2 days ago

Text

Three times

Summary: For more than a year, you’ve had a huge crush on Eddie Munson, but after being rejected three times when you gather the courage to ask him out, you finally decide to stop trying. As you distance yourself, Eddie struggles with his feelings and how to approach the girl he believes is out of his league.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (initially), fluff at the end, happy ending. Pretend the song choice came out earlier in this story timeline.

First time

The air was warm and filled with excitement as the school year at Hawkins High wrapped up. You were leaning against your car, trying to calm your racing heart while watching Eddie Munson dig through his messy van. You'd had a crush on him for ages; the way he commanded attention with his loud personality and wild hair was just incredible. But underneath all that chaos, you saw how kind he was, especially with his friends in Hellfire Club.

Gathering your courage, you finally called out to him. “Eddie!”

He looked up, a bright smile appearing on his face. “Hey, sweetheart! What’s up?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your backpack strap. “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”

Eddie’s smile faltered slightly, and a silence stretched between you. You felt your stomach drop. Finally, he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “Uh, I’m a bit busy right now with Hellfire stuff and… you know, campaigns to prep. Maybe another time?”

You forced a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course. No worries.”

But inside, it hurt. You had put yourself out there, and he didn’t seem interested.

Second time

A few months later, it was October, and you decided to hang back more after Hellfire meetings, hoping for a moment with Eddie. Tonight, as everyone packed away the game's pieces, you felt a spark of hope again.

“So, Eddie,” you started casually while everyone else filtered out. “There’s a showing of The Thing at Hawk’s Theater this weekend. I thought it’d be cool if we went together?”

Eddie stopped mid-movement, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape. “Ah, man. I’m kinda not… dating right now. Just got a lot on my plate, you know?”

Your heart sank. You nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

But deep down, you were starting to feel defeated. What was wrong with you? You were just trying to reach him, but it always felt like he was brushing you off.

Third time

The day after one of Eddie's band performances at The Hideout, your friends Steve and Robin convinced you to go. You watched as he poured himself into the music; he was electric on stage. Afterward, as the crowd began to thin, you took a chance and made your way to him, holding a bottle of his favorite cherry cola.

“You were amazing tonight, Eddie!” you said, trying to keep your voice upbeat while passing the drink to him.

Eddie smiled wide, his cheeks flushed as he accepted the drink. “Thanks, sweetheart! I’m glad you came out.”

This was your chance. “I was thinking… maybe we could grab burgers after this? My treat?”

But again, Eddie's face fell. “Oh, um, I’m just not looking for anything complicated right now. Sorry.”

Your heart sank even further. You gave a quick nod, forcing back the disappointment. “Okay. I understand. No problem.”

That was it. Three times, you put yourself out there in hope that he would change his mind. You couldn’t keep trying anymore. You turned away, feeling like you wasted your time on a guy who clearly didn’t want you from the beginning.

————-

You started avoiding him, skipping Hellfire meetings and not going to his gigs. It was easier that way, or so you thought. You tried to fill your time with friends, but the emptiness lingered. But, you still continued to do anything to erase the embarrassment and time that you used on him.

Meanwhile, Eddie felt horrible. In school, he acted cool, lazing back in his chair, but inside, he was a mess. Ever since the first rejection, it was eating him alive to even say an excuse. He could pretend for a while, but without you, he felt incomplete.

———-

One evening, Eddie found himself at home with Wayne, lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

“Alright, son. Spill it,” Wayne finally said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Eddie replied, half-heartedly.

“Don’t give me that. I know something’s bugging you,” Wayne pressed.

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face. “It’s this girl, okay? She asked me out a few times, and I said no. Now she’s stopped talking to me, and it hurts.”

Wayne gave him a serious look. “And you’re upset because…?”

“I didn’t want to say no at all. It’s just…. I don’t know….She’s perfect. Funny, smart… and I just… I didn’t want to mess it up. She’s the most perfect girl who could have anyone in this world but I don’t know why she keeps coming back to me .” His voice cracked, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I was scared. Scared that I would ruin the best person to ever enter my life.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “Scared? You’re messing it up more by pushing her away. You keep mentioning how she’s perfect but what if in her point of view, she doesn’t see herself like that. What if she sees you as the most perfect person ever and you are ruining your chance at true happiness and love. You said she asked you a few times, right? Then why are you sitting here all sad? When you can do something about it? Be the brave one finally and get her back.”

Those words stuck with Eddie. He left Wayne’s place with a renewed sense of purpose. He had to fix things.

——

A few minutes, Eddie found himself rushing inside Family Video to met up with Steve and Robin. “I need your help,” he said, bouncing up and down in determination .

“Help with what?” Steve asked, grabbing a movie from the floor.

“I…I messed up with Y/N and I need to show her how I feel,” Eddie explained, his confidence building. “I want to ask her out but I want to make it big. She deserves it especially after everything.”

Robin leaned in, her eyes sparkling with ideas. “I have a plan that could work!”

The group spent the hours brainstorming, and after much chatter, they settled on a surprise performance at The Hideout. You’d be there, like before, and this time, Eddie would sing a song just for you.

“I’ll do ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’” Eddie declared, excitement coursing through him. “It’s her favorite.”

————-

When the night arrived, you were out with Steve and Robin at The Hideout, not suspecting a thing. The atmosphere buzzed with energy. When Eddie walked on stage, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Naturally, you never could even after he hurt your feelings.

As the first chords of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” rang out, your heart raced with a mixture of joy that your favorite song was being played . The way he strummed the guitar and sang softened you. Eddie's voice was raw and emotional, resonating with every word.

As he sang, his eyes locked onto yours, and he filled the room with his sincerity. It was clear he meant every word, and you felt your heart swell with hope.

“I can’t take my eyes off you…” he crooned, glancing at you with a look that was both shy and bold. “You’re just too good to be true…”

As the final notes echoed, your friends cheered, but Eddie was focused just on you as he stepped forward, heart racing. “I know I messed up. I was scared and a total idiot for not giving us a chance. It’s just I couldn’t believe a girl as perfect as you wanted to be with a guy who isn’t. But I want to try now, if you’ll have me. I want to take you to every place you want to go. I don’t care if I have to send a lot of money, I truly don’t have but as long as I got you. Can you please forgive me?”

Your heart soared, and without thinking, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him. “Of course, Eddie! I’ve been waiting for you and wouldn’t mind if I have to wait a little longer because you are the perfect one for me!”

As you pulled back, Eddie smiled brightly, relief washing over him. The band continued to play the melody softly in the background, giving you two a moment.

With the excitement and relief bubbling between you, you leaned in and kissed him, finally closing the distance. It felt magical, like everything had fallen into place at last.

As you pulled away, laughter erupted around you, and despite the audience, none of it mattered. It was just you and Eddie, ready to embrace whatever came next together.

The End.

#stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson #robin buckley

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takes1 · 2 days ago

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aaa HI OMG!!!i love ur writing . i ate UP that kuroo x hard-to-get!reader.

i have a req; could youuu… write kuroken x reader nsfw? >< u can choose the gender, established relationship, reader is sooo neeedy, kuroo/kenma both please them together and continuously praise them for taking it all so well…

>_o whatever the answer may be to this,THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!!!

p.1 kenma sharing you with kuroo

hi babes!! love this idea and it came at a good time too. this is a soft continuation of the needy!kenma fic

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / third!kuroo / established relationship / kuroo being so horny for you and kenma / crushing on kuroo / kuroo being rough / adult conversations / angsty smut / porn with plot / heavy petting / ass grabbing / getting walked in on / praise kink!reader / kenma being a great partner / 2.4k words / hopefully just a two-parter / pls reply to be added for next part!

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3.

"Ohh-Hooo-h shit-!"

Kuroo stuttered, eyes briefly getting their fill of that pretty body perched atop his best friend- who was- god damn- far more hung than he would've guessed.

Kenma raised his voice, half-sitting up to help cover you, with an incredulous, "Dude!"

That's right- he forgot that he was just standing there, mouth open under his palm. He was checking out the way you covered your tits with one arm, and attempting to cover your boyfriend with your free hand.

His surprise morphed into a guttural laugh at his honest mistake. He slammed the door closed behind him.

You could both hear a cackling that seemed like it was generated from the walls themselves.

"You okay?"

Kenma's hand cupped your face, cooling your warm skin down. It took you back to what had been a very intimate moment.

The sudden interruption, though nerve-wracking, didn't turn you entirely off like you thought it might. You leaned into his touch, a bit of worry on your brow, but didn't demand any extra coddling.

"I'm- I'm oka-y," You kissed his palm with a shaky sigh.

It didn't need to be a spoken thing; Kenma threw some sweatpants on, careful to keep an eye on you to ensure that was the truth, and slipped out to deal with Kuroo.

Kenma held his aggravation in a more grumpy, rather than wrathful, way. Where most guys would have flown off the rails, maybe keen to pick a fight with him, Kenma shut the door softly. He kept his tone even.

The taller of the two knew it was serious when he kept steady eye contact. That didn't necessarily mean he would suddenly stop finding the situation funny, but he respected -or, at least tolerated- the idea of privacy and 'territory.'

"Why are you here?" He mumbled, accusatory.

Kuroo raised his hands with a shrug, then let them flop to his sides in a defensive motion, "I was checking on you! It sounded like you were having a heart attack over the mic,"

"-I had no idea you were..."

His looked right through him, trailing over your lingering form in the door. He bit back a smirk.

It was such a prestigious opportunity at his fingertips. If he played his cards just right.

Kenma followed his eyeline to you, clad in his shirt that barely touched your thighs if you stood up straight. Good thing you were leaning on the frame, pulling a little on the hem, waiting for him to come back. His groin ached with the need to cut this short.

His voice lowered at your presence, "-Having so much fun."

The suggestive tone, worsened by the filthy expression that always made him look somewhat guilty, had you both warm at the topic.

"Well, thank you-," You were little raspy from what you had been doing, and moved forward to put a supportive arm around Kenma's waist, slowly pulling him back towards the bedroom, a little 'Let's Speed This Up.'

"For- um, checking on him."

Your partner couldn't help but smile, a soft and distracted look on his face as he turned to press a kiss to your cheek.

Physical touch, PDA, all wasn't a big deal to Kenma. It was how he loved, both with you and his friends. Kuroo had been an enthusiastic witness to some pretty raunchy stuff, over time.

Even a blind man could see that you two were checked out of this conversation already. You moved back into the bedroom, that shirt simply not enough fabric to cover your ass.

Before you could tell Kuroo 'Thank you,' one more time, he put a hand against the door.

He wedged half of his body in, like he was trying to squeeze into an already crowded elevator. You stayed standing just a little behind Kenma- not because you were threatened, but mostly because you didn't want to get in the way of their conversation. It felt like this should stay between two long-term friends. To make matters worse, the way you felt about Kuroo was confusing, and you weren't ready to dissect it yet.

"Ah-haha, you know," He laughed at himself, unable to find the right thing to say for the first time in a while, "I- I...I joke about it a lot-- but,"

He cleared his throat, mostly looking to see if Kenma was going to stop him, in the midst of what you all knew he was going to say.

"If you're looking to... 'spice things up,'" His nervousness was secondary to that cocky smirk across his jaw, "I know a guy who's available right now."

The 'You need a third?' joke was replayed so much that you and Kenma had grown desensitized to it. Now, it was catching up to you. You wished you had talked about it, sooner.

Satisfied with leaving Kenma to speak, you looked away, but realized all your toys were still out. The sight made you squirm, hoping Kuroo had not noticed (he did), and when you looked up- they were both staring at you.

"What?" Was so quiet that it was barely a word- so you swallowed and gave a panicked look to Kenma, whom you trusted, and figured would handle this in a conventional 'No, thank you' way-, "Why are you--?"

He wasn't so confident, especially not as sure as you'd have preferred, "I mean... It- doesn't sound too bad."

It felt like a test.

"Sweet," Kuroo laughed and stepped further inside- the only one able to be so lighthearted, with no difficult questions to consider.

"Wait-wait, wait, are you--," You were trying to decipher Kenma's passive demeanor here, "Are you serious? He's your friend."

Kenma nodded slowly, eyes closed, "I know."

He sighed, and made sure to be gentle with the way he worded this and the way he delivered it. It still felt like a knife to the stomach when he turned to you, took your hands, and said:

"But, I know you like him."

Heart racing, you looked both guilty and upset, and though you tried not to look at Kuroo, you couldn't help it. He was standing still, arms crossed, with one hand covering his mouth in concentration at the scene playing out before him.

"Hey," Kenma brought your attention back to him, "Hey, I'm not upset about it- look at me, baby."

You had to sit down. How could he know that, when you didn't- at least not yet? That wasn't what you had deemed it to be. In the midst of your conversation, Kuroo quietly slipped out of the room once more to give you both some emotional space. He did not mean for it to get that serious.

You were so faint that it was difficult to hear you, even standing right in front of you. He held your face in his hands and attempted to rub your stress away.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly--," You took a shaky breath in, and tried to find the right way to word it, "I think he's- attractive, I guess, but you know I love you. You're mine."

Kenma kissed your forehead a few times, relatively unbothered, "I know. And- I love you too. A lot."

You both smiled at one another and found comfort there.

"I'm just saying... It's okay to like him, too." He was the only one who could eye contact. The concept of it bothered you, but you liked the way you were being acknowledged, and validated.

"I promise."

His thumb brushed your cheek, and he caught another pretty, but still repentant, smile.

"It doesn't bother me," He asserted one more time for good measure, and let his lips fall onto yours.

It was warm, and kind, and soft- an 'I love you, no matter what,' in physical form.

His hands shifted, gentle and slow, up into your hair, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip before sucking on it, just to close out the kiss.

"We-," You lost your breath, so you took a moment to catch it, as he straightened back up, "Um- we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Five feet away, Kuroo was silently punching the air, absolutely geeking over the possibility that after all of that, there was still a chance he wouldn't get to fuck.

Kenma wiped his mouth of the trail of spit you hadn't caught in time, a little raise on his brow.

"I just wanna try this out."

He sounded so sure. Like he was only waiting to check that you were game, first. Where was the hesitation for him? Was this something he had already worked through, on his own time?

You watched him adjust, then rub a hand on the back of his neck.

He called to Kuroo.

His head peeked through the door, "Are you guys- uh, all good, ooor?"

Kenma opened the door wide for him. Their body language was just a little off. You couldn't tell exactly how, other than the energy between them as they looked each other over. It certainly wasn't aggression, like it had been before your conversation.

Kuroo stepped inside, rubbing his palms together, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see that you made the right choice."

Two big, rough hands had you by the middle so easily, so casually, that it startled you out of your wits. The instant reaction was to shut him down like you usually did. You pushed on his forearms with an awkward laugh.

He kept you plastered to his front after a small struggle, hand guiding your chin. Having to look up was new.

"Wooah- I know your little boyfriend just said you were into me-," His lids were low, and his grip was so strong that it made you weak in the legs, "So don't act all shy."

Kuroo was only single because he couldn't keep his attention limited to just one person. There had been countless times in the past year of dating Kenma that his girl trouble was the talk of the school; so-and-so was upset with what's-her-name because she was distracting Kuroo in class. Or, he was being too touchy with his girl-best-friend while trying to juggle two others in secret.

It was a good reminder that too much attention could spoil an otherwise great, fun-loving, guy.

In your attempt to look away towards Kenma- sweet, familiar Kenma, you finally felt his comforting presence behind you.

"Well," His hands trailed over your hips, eyes downcast at the way your ass was poorly hidden in his shirt. He hiked it up, a warm palm squeezing the fatty muscle there-- you couldn't help but slip your arms around Kuroo, hiding your warm, embarrassed face in his shirt.

"She's normally pretty shy."

You felt the bass in Kuroo's chuckle resonate through your chest, and remembered how surprised you were a year ago to hear him speak. He had a voice that always felt a little too deep.

A hand massaged through your already messy hair, grounding you.

His interested, "Oh, yeah?" made you clutch his muscular back.

Kuroo watched from over your head, fisting more of that shirt up to your mid back, as Kenma pressed his clothed hard-on between your supple flesh.

It felt exhilarating, both having somebody to hold onto and a dirty observer to all your bedroom activities. Kuroo's cock was already firm, trapped under his clothes, against your tummy. That didn't stop him from grinding into whatever he could.

The height difference would seriously take some adjustment. You and Kenma could fuck standing up-- you would need a step-stool for his bigger friend.

You gasped at his another hand gripping your ass, harder, sharper than you were used to. Kenma felt so good, even confined, grinding against your folds.

"Mn-!" Was muffled into Kuroo's t-shirt.

It should've been no surprise that he fisted a handful of your hair to make you look at him again.

You shut your eyes, resisting his hold, because you couldn't stand to look at him in this context. It was too new.

Instead of letting you go, he gripped you harder, eliciting a short, "A-ah!"

He took advantage of that, too, and tried to steal the kiss that he felt owed. But you turned your head at the last second and made it into a sloppy, unfinished cheek kiss. The remnants of which remained smeared across your warm cheek.

A defeated, audibly frustrated sigh-- he lost his grip on you, and in the process, you pushed him away.

Kenma pulled you close and out of Kuroo's arms. Onto his own chest, instead.

"The fuck?" Was a pitiful groan, and a look that you were embarrassed to receive, from Kuroo. He palmed himself freely, but stared at you like you broke some sacred pinky promise.

He ran a hand through his hair, stressed, and motioned to Kenma, "I thought you said she was into me. This- this isn't 'into' me. This is- is- like, fuckin' scared of me."

"She is into you-," His grip was soft, and nice, and though firm, it was still reassuring under your shirt.

Kenma laughed, thinking, as he kissed the side of your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at Kuroo, but you still found the strong desire to show off in front of him.

"Man, you're just--," He sighed, about to finish his thought.

"Just what?" Kuroo insisted, pissed off.

"You're too rough. Just... slow it... down."

Kuroo's hands rubbed down his face, brow working hard- he looked completely out of sorts, all frazzled and distressed.

An uneven tone, still worried as he tilted his head down, sideways, at you.

"O-kay, okay- yeah, I can..." He blew out a breath, "I can be... gentle."

As Kenma slowly peeled his shirt off of you- turning you around to face his best friend- revealing everything he ever wanted to see under that stupid uniform- his mind was made of stone.

He was not going to leave without touching you, tasting you. Kuroo lost a bit of feeling in his legs; he swallowed, dry, and nodded like a dumbass, over and over again.

"Yeah...Yea-h, I can slow it down for ya," He mumbled, mostly in an attempt to hype himself up. He pulled his shirt off by the back and closed the distance, with a different approach this time.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

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mimipolo · 2 days ago

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hi darling, how are you?

genuinely thank you so much for writing about Nam-gyu, I love him and it's kind of disappointing to see that there are almost no fics or headcanons about him :(

I am honestly in love with your way of writing (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

I would love and be very grateful if you could write something about Nam-gyu dating a girl who is more shy and quiet

thank you so so nuch

have a great day/night 🤍

Nam-gyu x shy!reader

|HIII I'm doing good tysm for asking‼️

|You gave me the opportunity to listen to one of my softer playlists while writing this so kudos to u

He's tries his best to be gentle with you, almost too much. Sometimes he mistakes your meekness for also being weak. Yes weak willed but not necessarily a complete push over. You just prefer to keep to your thoughts to yourself. He genuinely admires you for it because he could never tolerate someone talking shit to his face.

Speaking of he's super quick to defend you, any word he believes could offend you( it offended him more) is immediately being damned to hell. He's holding you close to his side as he shouts at the supposed perpetrator.

We all know he's a super yapper when given the chance so he loves being in your company and talking to you, or well, talking at you. More often than not he's being spoken over or whatever he's saying isn't being received but it's so much more different with you. You're happy to sit and do whatever you're doing as he talks your ear off. Sometimes when he says something especially interesting you ask a question and he's already giddy and ready to explain in unnecessary amounts of detail.

Feels like he's the chosen one because you chose him out of all the loud bastards out there to be with. He wants to brag and show you off so badly but he has to physically restrain himself because he knows how much you'd hate having so many people you didn't know have so much information about you. Sometimes slips in a comment or two...or more to Thanos, nothing too crazy.

You understand him better than anyone else, when he's about to go from frustration to anger, then anger to violence. You're that voice of reason just behind him urging him to reconsider what he's about to say or do. At some point he realises he hears your soothing voice coaxing him to calm down when you're not there. Genuinely shudders at the thought because you have that much of an affect on him?? Terrifying.

Sometimes he likes to sit in silence with you, the windows open and it chills the already cool room as his head lays in your lap. You're humming quietly to yourself as you make a mess of his hair and he's content on staring up at you blissfully as you do so.

Takes into consideration you don't usually like PDA so keeps most of it at home. But any threat of someone even hinting at hitting on you he's softly grabbing your hand to pull you away, mean mugging the person the whole time. You hate confrontation at all costs, remembering how you jumped in shock at him just shouting at someone haunts him endlessly. Avoids doing so unless very much called for.

One thing you'll always acknowledge is how much he tries to remember all the little things about you, the effort he puts into making sure you're comfortable noticeable in every interaction. Even if it looks unnatural on him, he swears he's trying.

Guiltiest pleasure is purposefully making you flustered. Loves turning your head up to meet his eyes just for you to snap your head away as you shrink under his gaze. Thinks it's the cutest thing ever. Especially if you take hold of his wrists and tell him to stop it but don't actually push him away.

One thing he always makes sure of is keeping Thanos in check when he's around. It'd honestly be easier just to avoid him all together but the man is anywhere and everywhere. Has elbowed his stomach roughly when he was halfway calling you Senorita. Would do it again gladly. Got teased a lot after for being so protective you, Thanos clapped his back like some proud father as if he wasn't the main culprit.

He's your number one defender. If you have no fans he's legally dead. Supports every small hobby you do, and insists you make something big with it. Just wants to see you excited about something.

He's a snappy guy with a smart mouth so he has to tripple check himself every time he's slightly upset at you. It's not that he means to hurt you with his words he's just a little too creative. But due to your lax nature conflicts occur very rarely, a sense of peace only you could provide him with. Even if you did argue he'd be folding immediately after he's cooled down.

"Don't hate me kay? I didn't mean it."

"Speak to me pretty, ya know I said sorry."

Doesn't let up until you give out a short laugh, signalling his success.

#squid game #squid game x reader #nam gyu #nam-gyu x reader #player 124 #nam gyu x reader #player 124 x reader #shy reader #fluff

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yassbishimvintage · 2 days ago

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Big Dude

Warnings: None. Fluffy fluff.

A/N: Look I was inspired by 'Bitch I'm Big Dude.' And yes this fic has two songs that inspired it

Imani stood at the laundry table, folding work clothes and neatly stacking Terry’s shirts. The rhythmic beat of Big Boogie’s song thumped from the speaker on the kitchen counter, filling the house with energy. She bobbed her head to the music, the lyrics pulling a smirk onto her face.

As the song hit the chorus—"Bitch, I'm big dude"—she glanced out the window and froze for a moment. There he was, Terry, outside in the driveway, spraying down his truck. His shirt was tossed over the edge of the bed, and the water from the hose glistened on his back, tracing the definition of his muscles as they flexed with every movement.

Imani bit her lip, her smile widening. She leaned slightly against the counter, watching him work with casual precision, completely unaware of the effect he was having on her. The lyrics of the song played in perfect sync with her thoughts. It really does apply to him, she thought with a soft chuckle. Big dude, indeed.

Terry turned slightly, catching her watching through the window. He smirked, giving her a playful wink before turning back to rinse the tires. Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

She folded another shirt, shaking her head. “Lord, you blessed me with that man for sure,” she muttered to herself, still swaying to the beat of the music. Moments like these reminded her how much she loved the little routines of their life together.

Imani’s smile lingered as Terry stepped through the door, towel slung over his shoulder, beads of water still clinging to his skin. His shirtless frame filled the doorway, muscles taut from the workout of cleaning the truck. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink.

Her eyes followed the path of the water dripping down his neck and chest. “Enjoying the view, Ms. Carter?” he teased, catching her staring.

She chuckled, folding a pair of his socks. “Just admiring my hardworking boyfriend.”

Terry smirked, wiping the sweat from his brow with the towel. “Oh, I see how it is. Big Boogie got you in your feelings, huh?” he teased, referencing the song still playing.

Imani rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, the music's not even the reason. You’re walking around looking like a thirst trap.”

He leaned on the counter, closing the distance between them. “Only for you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

She raised a brow, stepping closer. “Good. Keep it that way.”

His grin widened. “Always.”

She kisses him. He gently lifts her onto the kitchen counter. “T!” She giggles.

Terry’s grin deepened as he settled her on the cool countertop. “What? Just getting comfortable,” he teased, his hands resting firmly on her hips.

Imani giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” Terry echoed with a smirk, his voice low and teasing. “Nah, I’m just getting started.”

Imani raised a brow, her giggles bubbling up despite herself. “On the kitchen counter though? Really, T?”

He chuckled, brushing a stray curl from her face. “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

She playfully pushed at his chest. “You’re lucky I love you, or I’d be kicking you out for turning my kitchen into your playground.”

Terry leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from hers. “I’m not hearing any complaints.”

She smiles and hops off the counter. “Let me put these away T.” she says. Just like that his hand makes contact with her ass. She involuntarily moans at the sensation.

When Imani returned to the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. The sight of Terry back outside, shirtless and focused as he meticulously dried the truck, caught her off guard. She tilted her head, her gaze trailing over the way his muscles flexed with each movement.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she rested her chin in her palm. How does he manage to look so good doing the simplest things? she wondered, a small laugh escaping her. She shook her head at herself but couldn’t look away.

The way the sunlight hit his skin, the easy confidence in his movements—it all had her mesmerized. It wasn’t just how he looked; it was the steady, grounded energy he carried, a strength that made her feel safe and loved.

She caught herself biting her lip and quickly shook the thoughts away, grabbing a glass of water to distract herself. As she took a sip, she muttered to herself with a chuckle, “Get it together, Imani. You’re staring like it’s the first time you’ve seen him.”

But as Terry glanced back at the window and caught her looking, his smirk made it clear he’d noticed. He gave a little wave, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and mouthed, Caught you.

Imani rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. She mouthed back, Finish the truck, Big Dude, and turned away before he could see the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Terry walked into the kitchen, his presence commanding as usual. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between them, scooping Imani up effortlessly. She let out a small gasp of surprise, her arms wrapping around his neck as her legs instinctively locked around his waist.

“Terry!” she squealed, half laughing, half protesting. “You didn’t even dry off properly!”

“Couldn’t wait,” he murmured, his voice low and warm against her ear. “Caught you staring, remember?” His lips brushed her temple, sending a shiver down her spine.

Imani rolled her eyes playfully, though the blush blooming across her cheeks betrayed her. “And what if I was? Can’t a girl appreciate her man without being manhandled the second he comes inside?”

He smirked, his grip on her secure as he carried her to the counter and gently set her down. “Oh, you can appreciate me all you want,” he teased, leaning in so their foreheads touched. “But don’t think I didn’t notice you blushing when I caught you. It was cute.”

“Cute?” she repeated, arching a brow. “Big Dude thinks I’m cute?”

He chuckled, his hands settling on her hips. “More than cute, Ms Carter. You’re everything.”

Imani’s teasing demeanor softened, and she leaned in to kiss him, slow and tender. “You’re lucky you’re sweet,” she murmured against his lips.

“And you’re lucky I can’t get enough of you,” he countered, his voice dripping with affection as he kissed her back.

“So why ‘big dude’?” he asks her.

Imani chuckled softly, her fingers idly tracing patterns on Terry's broad chest. "Well," she teased, "Big Boogie was playing, and when I heard ‘Bitch I’m big dude,’ I couldn’t help but think how fitting it was for you."

Terry arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking in amusement. "Oh yeah? So you think I’m ‘big dude’ material, huh?"

She grinned mischievously. "I mean, look at you." Her eyes swept over him meaningfully. "Six-foot-three, all muscle, tattoos... You’re like the definition of a big dude."

His deep laugh filled the room. "Guess I’ll take that as a compliment."

"You should," she quipped, leaning back with a playful glint in her eye. "Besides, it’s not just about your size. It’s your presence, the way you carry yourself. You don’t just walk into a room—you own it."

Terry pulled her closer, brushing a kiss to her temple. "And you’re not intimidated by that?"

"Intimidated?" Imani snorted softly. "T, I handle you just fine."

He laughed again, this time more quietly, his voice low with admiration. "Damn right you do."

Imani's heart fluttered at his words. She smiled warmly, her eyes softening as she met his gaze. "I love you too, T. More than you'll ever know."

Terry's expression grew tender, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You mean everything to me." His voice dropped a little, becoming more sincere, his love for her clear in every word. "I don't say it enough, but damn, I do. You've made my life better in every way."

She reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing his skin. "You’ve made mine better, too." Her voice was soft but filled with certainty. "We’ve got this, you know? Us. Everything. We’re a team."

He leaned into her touch, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "A damn good team."

Imani smiled, her heart full. "Always."

Tags 🏷️

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#terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black reader #yassbishimvintage writes #aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #terry richmond x black female oc #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc #yassbishimvintage #aaron pierre x black reader #Spotify

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oneforthemunny · 2 days ago

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my funny valentine |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: your first official valentine's day together as a couple, and eddie wants it to be perfect. he's planned for everything- well, except one thing.

contains: fluff lol. lovey dovey mushy shit. they're so in love here (it's the engagement era). a little bit of light fighting? language. alludes to some smut but nothing graphic. valentine's day fic for the masses <3

“Alright, I’m just going to ask,” Farrah wrinkled her nose, heels clicking across the marble floors of her Hills home, swinging the dress shirt bag around. “Why would you need a red suit?”

Gareth looked up, snickering around the cigarette in greeting while Eddie set down the guitar he’d been strumming. “For Valentine’s Day, Farrah.” Eddie hummed like it was obvious, standing and taking the fresh suit out of the Versace bag.

“Look at that. Fuckin’ cool, isn’t it?” A ringed hand hit against the plastic of the bag, Eddie’s chest swelling with excitement.

“Yeah, Ed, looks sick. Leather too?” Gareth grinned, leaning over to Farrah, kissing her in greeting.

“Yeah, leather and red. Practically made for me, I fuckin’ swear.” Eddie grinned ear to ear, positively beaming with joy. “And just in time for Valentine’s Day. I mean, it doesn’t get more perfect than that, huh? She’s gonna love it. Don’t you think, Far?”

Farrah’s usually chipper, giggly nod of reassurance didn’t come. Instead, her lips pulled, in a downward grimace that she tried to hide. A terrible poker face, you always told her with an eye roll.

“Um, yeah,” Her words were forced, filled with uncertainty, eyes rolling down the fabric, fingers fiddling and twisting her rings.

“What?” Eddie frowned, looking at the suit. Fresh off the runway, he saw it in one of your Vogue’s and called his agent immediately. It would be perfect for Valentine’s Day, perfect to surprise you in. You would love him in it, swoon and coo and kiss all over him so sweetly, he was so sure of it- Well, he was until now.

“What you don’t- You don’t think she’ll like it?” Eddie looked from the suit, back to Farrah, eyes wide with wild uncertainty. Maybe it was too much, too flashy.

“No, no, no. The suit? She’ll love it.” Farrah said sincerely, head shaking. Still, her face held some hesitancy that made Eddie’s stomach drop.

“Then what? What’s the- Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, Farrah, you’re freakin’ me the fuck out.” Eddie growled.

“Ed, man, chill-”

“-I’m not looking like anything. The suit is fine.” Farrah rolled her eyes, gaze meeting Gareth’s carefully. “It’s just… Uh, I didn’t know it was for Valentine’s Day, that’s all. I thought- I dunno, I thought it was for a red carpet or something, not… Not Valentine’s Day.”

Eddie blinked, confused. “What? Why- What are you talking about? So what it’s for Valentine’s Day? Should I not wear red on the one fuckin’ day of the year everyone wears red?”

“No,” Farrah snapped defensively, Gareth’s arm tightening around her waist, glaring at Eddie over the top of her curls. “It’s nothing. It’s fine. Just wear the suit.”

“No, clearly it’s something.” Eddie frowned, good mood turned sour at the lack of excitement he felt from your best friend. “What’s the matter? It’s not the suit, so what?”

An uncomfortable silence fell between the three, Farrah fidgeting, looking at Gareth helplessly. “What is it? Valentine’s Day?”

Farrah hesitated, lip rolling between her teeth, eyes flashing to Eddie in a way that gave him his answer.

“Farrah, seriously, what’s the big deal with Valentine’s Day? I mean, I’m takin’ her out and doin’ nice shit, so what’s the problem?”

“Nothing, nothing it’s nothing,” Farrah waved him off, pausing for a moment, nose scrunching in a soft cringe.

“… but, like, where are you going?” Farrah’s head quipped to the side, lip still rolling between her teeth, brows knitted in nearly a sympathetic way. “Is that appropriate?”

“Is it- Yeah, I think so.” Eddie scoffed, eyes rolling with arrogant confidence that made Farrah pity him even more. He really had no idea.

“‘M takin’ her to Spagos in the Hills. They’re doin’ this Valentine’s Day special with the white table cloths and candles. I called Marty and he got us a reservation.” Eddie’s chest boasted with pride, lips curling in a smug grin. Gareth and Eddie shared a confident smile, nodding at each other, oblivious to Farrah’s nervous expression.

Your first official Valentine’s Day together as a real couple, really together, really engaged. Eddie was determined to do it right, to make it count. You were his wife, afterall- well, soon to be wife. There’s nothing he wanted more than to spoil you the way you deserved. Flowers ordered, reservations made, the driver scheduled, and a gorgeous ruby necklace sitting in the jeweler’s vault, waiting to be picked up. It was all so mushy, so lovey and sweet. You really had changed him, and he knew you’d love to see that. Gush and squeal and be so sweet to him.

It was all so perfect. Every detail was so thought out and so romantic.

Except one.

“What’s this Farrah’s telling me about a Valentine’s Day dinner at Spagos?” You hummed, lotioned hands sliding down your arms, smoothing over your skin. Your eyes watching Eddie’s carefully through the vanity mirror.

He stilled, head snapping up and eyes rounded and wide- always looking like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Void of any playfulness, dripping in genuine, true shock. It made your lips curl.

“W-What? What?” Eddie stammered, his heart skipping, sure he’d heard you wrong. “What are you talkin’ about-”

“-Spagos?” You lifted a brow, turning in your chair to look at him, hands rubbing the excess lotion in. “For dinner tomorrow night? For Valentine’s Day?”

Eddie blinked, mouth falling and closing around words he couldn’t seem to find. He’d been so, so careful. Planned it all perfectly, every single detail. He’d put more care into this than practically anything before, and now it was ruined.

“I-I- fuck- I thought you liked Spagos!” Eddie threw a hand up, letting it fall against the throw pillow with a loud, dramatic thud. “You-You said you liked it, and-”

“-I do like it.” You hummed sweetly, standing from your stool, leaning to flick the lights of the mirror off. “I love Spagos in the Hills.”

“Then, ok,” Eddie huffed, irritation and disappointment building in his chest. Why the fuck had Farrah told you? Ruined his surprise. “What’s the problem then?”

Your lips pursed, hesitating, just for a moment. Eddie huffed in annoyance. It was the same look Farrah had given him and now you? He was beyond annoyed.

“Seriously? What’s the problem? I mean, I planned this perfect fuckin’ dinner, did all of it right, and what? It’s not good enough? It’s never fuckin’ good enoug-”

“-Ed,” You huffed, an eye roll of annoyance at his erraticness cutting him off. “It’s very sweet. It’s perfect.”

Eddie’s frown softened, posture lifting at the praise. “It’s absolutely exactly what I would want if I liked Valentine’s Day.” You said, face neutral, watching him carefully.

Eddie’s own face fell, brows knitting back into confusion. If you liked? If? “Wait, wait… What are you talkin’ about, baby? You don’t-” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, eyes squinted in question. “You don’t like Valentine’s Day?”

You kept wringing your hands, pretending to rub in lotion that was already absorbed, giving Eddie a small shrug. “No, not really at all, actually.” You admitted. “I actually think it might be the stupidest holiday ever created, and yes, that includes tax day.”

Eddie blinked in disbelief, an airy scoff leaving his mouth, still hung in shock. “Are you serious?” Eddie’s brows lifted high, hiding under curl bangs. “You don’t like Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes, Ed,” You huffed, annoyed with his wide eyed, shocked exaggerated expressions.

“It’s- It’s a dumb holiday that’s only made by the candy companies to sell shit in the middle of winter when no one wants to buy anything. It’s all a marketing scheme. I mean, come on. You really need a whole holiday to remind you to tell your partner you love them? That holiday already exists, and it’s called your anniversary, and it’s just so fucking dumb, and- stop looking at me like that.” Your eyes narrowed in a glare, lips pressing in a thin, hard line, that only had Eddie howling with laughter.

“What’s funny?” Your mouth twisted, tone snipping in annoyance.

“I just- I can’t believe you out of all people don’t like Valentine’s Day.” Eddie snickered.

“What does that mean?”

“No- hey, c’mon, don’t be mad at me.” Eddie cooed at your angry expression, a pout beginning to spread across your lips, arms crossed tight over your chest. Legs thrown over the side, you could see Eddie coming towards you in the mirror, though you stubbornly didn’t turn around. Instead, you glared at him through the mirror, unwavering even when his arms wrapped around your frame, squeezing you against his chest.

“I was just meaning I can’t believe you don’t like Valentine’s Day because you’re so… girly and shit.”

Your scoff shook against his skin. “What?”

“You know what I mean, baby.” Eddie cocked his head to the side, hands smoothing down your arms, squeezing them lightly with affection. “You’re so… pink, y’know? You like pink and girly shit and I just thought you’d love Valentine’s Day too. Seemed right up your alley.”

He could feel you relax under his touch, leaning back into his midsection, head pressed between his pecs. “No,” You muttered, still with a pout that had Eddie’s heart swooning. “Just not for me, I guess.”

“That’s alright.” Eddie nodded reassuringly, because he knew you needed it, even if you wouldn’t admit it. “Honestly? Kinda a relief.”

“Yeah?” Your head tipped back, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him. He wondered if you could feel his heart jump.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, moving his hands to hold either side of your face gently. “I was so fuckin’ worried I was gonna fuck somethin’ up. Not do it right. It’s a relief.”

Your lips spread in an endearing soft smile, head turning to the side, kissing the pad of his thumb. “No, it’s perfect.” You shook your head gently, taking a deep breath. “It’ll be fun.” The words were as forced as the ‘reassuring’ grin you gave Eddie, that resembled more of a grimace.

“Nah, we’re not doin’ that.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m not subjecting you to that.”

“No, it’ll be fun, Ed-”

“-Sweetheart,” Eddie purred gently. “If I wanted to torture you, I’d take you to the basement. Have my fun with you in there.” His eyes darkened with a hint of mischief that made you shudder. The newest addition to your forever home, the infamous ‘love dungeon’- because sex sounded too malicious, according to Eddie. It wasn’t done quite yet, a few finishing touches still needed, but filled with some of your and Eddie’s favorite toys.

“Mm, that sounds like a better idea.” You hummed, head tilting back, nose nearly touching his sternum.

“I think so, too.” Eddie grinned. God, how he loved you. His perfect match, who would’ve thought? Practically made just for him, sharing the same mind, beating heart.

“Maybe order in? Order a pizza? Then I get you all to myself.” Eddie’s grip tightened across your torso, head dipping down, nose dragging over your own. “I’ve got a few new toys down there. Maybe we try them out? How’s that sound, hm, baby?”

“Sounds perfect.” You grinned, lashes fluttering against his cheek when you nuzzled into him. “Sounds like the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever heard. Maybe you’ll turn me. Change my mind. Turn me into a candy heart, mushy bullshit believer.”

Eddie snorted in laughter, moving to pull you from your chair, his hands on your waist, lips moving against yours, hungrily. Bunching the silk material of your robe, hand slipping under your bare skin, squeezing at the fat of your ass so you squealed into his mouth, giving him just enough leverage to slip his tongue past your teeth.

The night was spent not in the basement, but in your bed, still, it was filled with cries of pleasure and gaspy whines between silk sheets. The next day, Eddie still set up the dozens of roses in the living room, vases and vases everywhere, because he knew you’d enjoy it- you always enjoyed flowers.

He still went to the jeweler, even wore his new suit, walking proudly into the pizza shop to get your heart shaped pizza, posing for a picture with the staff- a photo that would live on their wall for years. You’d go, years after, to that same pizzeria just to giggle at Eddie framed in his flashy red suit. A picture perfect memory of your first Valentine’s Day together, one of many.

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sonotdaiisy · 1 day ago

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MAKE UP OR MAKE OUT? ⸺ Minji x reader

Minji and y/n had never gotten along, but what happens when they are paired up for a project forcing them to get along and interact and maybe even kiss…..?

GENRE ⸺ fluff, enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ⸺ fluff, jealousy and mention of being possessive, kissing (def), a post after 2months (to prove that I’m alive), requested

WC ⸺ 4.5k

You and Minji stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a tense stare. You were both students in the same photography class, and you'd been assigned to work on a project together.

The problem was, you and Minji couldn't stand each other. You thought she was arrogant and entitled, while she thought you were lazy and uncreative. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel the air thickening with hostility.

"What's the project about?" Minji asked curtly, her voice dripping with disdain.

"It's a photography portfolio," you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. "We need to take a series of photos that showcase our skills and creativity."

Minji snorted. "I don't need to showcase my skills. My photos are already amazing."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger, but she bit back a retort. "Fine. Let's start brainstorming."

You and Minji sat down at a small café, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city. You'd decided to meet up and discuss your project, hoping to come up with a cohesive plan.

But as you started brainstorming, it became clear that you and Minji had fundamentally different artistic visions. You wanted to create a portfolio that was edgy and avant-garde, while Minji was pushing for something more traditional and commercial.

"I don't understand why you're being so stubborn," Minji said, her voice rising in frustration. "My idea is clearly better."

"I'm not being stubborn," you replied, trying to keep your cool. "I just think that your idea is boring and unoriginal."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger. "My idea is not boring," she said, her voice icy. "It's just more refined and sophisticated than your silly, artsy concept."

You felt a surge of annoyance, but you tried to take a deep breath and calm down. "Look, can we just try to find some common ground?" you asked, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Minji raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's possible," she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. "But I'm willing to try."

You nodded, feeling a sense of determination. "Okay, let's do it. Let's find a way to make this project work."

As you sat there, sipping your coffee and staring at Minji, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her. She was stubborn and infuriating, but she was also passionate and driven.

And as you looked into her eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A spark of creativity, a glimmer of inspiration.

Maybe, just maybe, you and Minji could create something amazing together.

As you and Minji continued to work on your project, you started to feel a sense of camaraderie with your partner. Despite your initial differences, you'd found a way to work together, and your project was starting to take shape.

But just as things were going smoothly, a new challenge emerged. A rival photography duo, consisting of two students from a neighboring school, had entered the competition. They were known for their cutting-edge style and their ability to push the boundaries of photography.

The rival duo, consisting of a boy named Taeoh and a girl named Jiwon, was confident and charismatic. They exuded an air of superiority, and it was clear that they were determined to win.

Minji's eyes narrowed as she watched Taeoh and Jiwon set up their equipment. "We can't let them win," she said, her voice low and determined.

You nodded in agreement. "I know. We need to step up our game."

Minji turned to you, a fierce glint in her eye. "Let's do it. Let's show them what we're capable of."

You grinned, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "Game on."

Together, you and Minji threw yourself into your project, determined to outdo Taeoh and Jiwon. You spent long hours brainstorming, shooting, and editing, pushing yourselves to the limit.

As the competition heated up, the tension between you and Minji began to dissipate. You started to see each other in a new light, as partners and allies rather than rivals.

One day, as you were working on a particularly tricky shot, Minji turned to you and smiled. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually starting to enjoy working with you."

You grinned back at her, feeling a sense of warmth and connection. "I know exactly what you mean," you said. "I'm starting to think that we make a pretty good team."

Minji's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Maybe we do."

As you continued to work together, you started to realize that your feelings for Minji went beyond mere partnership. You were starting to develop feelings for her, feelings that you couldn't quite explain.

But as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you hope. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of interest.

Maybe, just maybe, Minji felt the same way.

As the warm evening sunset cast its golden glow over the classroom, you and Minji worked together to capture the perfect shot. Minji had set up the camera and tripod, carefully adjusting the settings to ensure that the photo would be nothing short of breathtaking.

You, on the other hand, stood behind the camera, your eyes fixed on the viewfinder as you waited for the perfect moment to take the picture. The sunset was a kaleidoscope of colors, a swirling mix of oranges, pinks, and purples that seemed to dance across the sky.

Minji stood beside you, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you. But as she gazed at the sunset, her attention began to wander. She found herself noticing the way the fading light seemed to bring out the colors in your eyes.

Your eyes, Minji thought to herself, were truly captivating. They sparkled like diamonds in the sunset, shining with a warm, golden light that seemed to draw her in. Minji felt a flutter in her chest, a sudden jolt of awareness that caught her off guard.

Is she attracted to you? Minji wondered, the thought slipping into her mind like a whispered secret. She felt a surge of surprise, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

But Minji quickly shrugged off the feeling, telling herself she was being ridiculous. She was focused on the project, not on developing feelings for her partner. Besides, she'd always thought of you as just a classmate, someone she tolerated rather than admired.

So Minji pushed aside her doubts and focused on the task at hand. She watched as you expertly framed the shot, your fingers moving deftly over the camera controls. You took a deep breath, your eyes locked on the viewfinder, and then you pressed the shutter button.

The camera clicked, capturing the perfect moment. The sunset was frozen in time, its colors vibrant and alive. Minji felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you'd taken a truly stunning photo.

As you reviewed the shot on the camera's LCD screen, Minji couldn't help but steal glances at you. She noticed the way your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled.

Minji felt that flutter in her chest again, the same sensation she'd experienced just moments before. She tried to brush it off, telling herself she was just being silly.

But as she looked at you, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between you, something that went beyond mere partnership or friendship. Minji felt a sense of wonder, a sense of possibility that she couldn't ignore.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the classroom in a warm, golden light, Minji realized that she was seeing you in a whole new way. She was starting to notice the little things about you, the things that made you unique and special.

And as she stood there, watching you review the photos on the camera, Minji felt a sense of excitement, a sense of anticipation. She wondered what would happen next, wondered if she'd ever find the courage to explore these newfound feelings.

As the days went by, you and Minji continued to work on your project, pouring your hearts and souls into every detail. You'd grown closer, your mutual respect and admiration for each other's skills and talents blossoming into a strong partnership.

One evening, as you were reviewing your photos, Minji turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and introspective.

"Of course," you replied, curious about what was on her mind.

Minji hesitated, her eyes searching yours as if seeking permission to share her thoughts. "I was just wondering...what do you think about me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise, unsure of how to respond. But as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A deep vulnerability, a sense of uncertainty that touched your heart.

"I think you're an amazing person, Minji," you said, your voice sincere. "You're talented, driven, and passionate about your work. And...I think I'm really starting to enjoy your company."

Minji's face lit up with a radiant smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "I have to admit, I'm really starting to like you too."

As you smiled back at Minji, you felt a sense of connection that went beyond mere partnership. It was as if you'd crossed a threshold, entering a new realm of understanding and mutual respect.

Just then, Taeoh and Jiwon, the rival photography duo, walked into the room, their eyes scanning the space with a mixture of curiosity and competitiveness. Minji's eyes narrowed, her expression tightening with a hint of animosity.

But you just smiled, feeling a sense of confidence and camaraderie with Minji. "Hey, guys," you said, waving at Taeoh and Jiwon. "What brings you here?"

Taeoh smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We just wanted to see how the competition is doing," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I have to say, we're not impressed."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger, but you just chuckled, feeling a sense of amusement at Taeoh's antics. "Well, we're not trying to impress you," you said, smiling at Minji. "We're just trying to create something amazing."

Taeoh snorted, but Jiwon just rolled her eyes, looking unimpressed. "Whatever," she said, turning to Taeoh. "Let's just focus on our own project."

As Taeoh and Jiwon walked away, Minji turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think they're just jealous," she said, smiling.

You grinned back at her, feeling a sense of solidarity and shared purpose. "I think you're right," you said, nodding in agreement.

As you continued to work on your project, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You and Minji were creating something special, something that would showcase your skills and talents to the world.

And as you worked together, side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and possibility. You were starting to realize that your partnership with Minji was more than just a collaboration – it was the start of something truly special.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the room, you and Minji decided to take a break and grab some dinner. You walked to a nearby café, enjoying the cool evening air and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

As you sat down at a small table, Minji turned to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have an idea," she said, a sly grin spreading across her face.

"What is it?" you asked, curious.

Minji leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's sneak into the school's rooftop garden tonight and take some photos of the city skyline. It'll be perfect for our project."

You felt a surge of excitement, your heart racing with anticipation. "That sounds amazing," you said, grinning.

Minji smiled back at you, her eyes shining with excitement. "I knew you'd be up for it."

As you finished your dinner and made plans for your midnight adventure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill and excitement. You and Minji were about to embark on a journey that would take you to new heights – literally.

And as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of possibility.

You wondered what the night would bring, and whether your feelings for Minji would continue to grow.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the school, you and Minji made your way to the rooftop garden. You'd been planning this sneak attack for days, and you were determined to get the perfect shot.

Minji led the way, her eyes scanning the hallway for any signs of teachers or security guards. You followed closely behind, your heart racing with excitement.

As you reached the stairwell, Minji turned to you and grinned. "Ready for this?" she whispered.

You nodded, your pulse pounding in your ears. "Let's do it."

Minji pushed open the door to the rooftop garden, and you slipped inside, finding yourselves in a tranquil oasis. The garden was filled with lush greenery and vibrant flowers, and the view of the city skyline was breathtaking.

Minji set up her camera, while you took in the sights and sounds of the garden. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

As Minji began to snap photos, you couldn't help but notice the way the fading light brought out the colors in her eyes. They sparkled like diamonds, shining with a warm, golden light that seemed to draw you in.

You felt a surge of attraction, your heart racing with excitement. But you pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a warm, golden light, Minji turned to you and smiled. "This is perfect," she said, her eyes shining with excitement.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. You'd pulled off the perfect sneak attack, and you'd gotten some amazing photos to boot.

As you packed up your equipment and prepared to leave, Minji turned to you and grinned. "Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had a blast."

You smiled back at her, feeling a sense of connection and camaraderie. "No problem," you said, your voice low and husky. "I had a great time too."

As you walked out of the garden, side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and possibility. You'd shared a special moment, a moment that would stay with you forever.

And as you looked over at Minji, you saw something in her eyes that gave you pause. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of possibility.

As the days went by, you and Minji continued to work on your project, growing closer with each passing moment. You'd developed a strong partnership, anticipating each other's moves and working together seamlessly.

One day, as you were working on a particularly tricky shot, a girl from your class, Sooyoung, came over to chat with you. She was a friendly and outgoing person, always eager to strike up a conversation.

Minji, who was busy adjusting the lighting, couldn't help but notice the way Sooyoung was laughing and smiling at you. She felt a sudden pang of jealousy, a spark of emotion that caught her off guard.

At first, Minji tried to brush off the feeling, telling herself she was being ridiculous. But as she watched Sooyoung and you chat, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease.

Why was Sooyoung flirting with you? Minji wondered, her mind racing with questions. And why did it bother her so much?

As Sooyoung walked away, Minji felt a sense of relief wash over her. But the feeling of jealousy lingered, refusing to be ignored.

Minji tried to focus on the project, but her mind kept wandering back to the conversation between you and Sooyoung. She couldn't help but wonder if you were interested in Sooyoung, if you were attracted to her outgoing personality and bright smile.

The thought sent a pang of discomfort through Minji's chest. She didn't like the idea of you being with someone else, didn't like the thought of you smiling and laughing with another girl.

As the day drew to a close, Minji realized that she had to confront her feelings. She couldn't keep ignoring the spark of jealousy that had ignited within her.

But what did it mean? Minji wondered, her mind racing with questions. Was she really attracted to you, or was she just feeling possessive?

As she packed up her equipment and headed home, Minji couldn't shake the feeling that her emotions were more complicated than she'd initially thought.

The day of the competition finally arrived, and you and Minji were more than ready. You'd spent countless hours perfecting your project, and you were confident that you had a winning entry.

As you set up your display, Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for you. You'd taken charge of the project, leading the way with your creative vision and technical expertise. And now, as you stood confidently in front of your display, Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

The judges began their rounds, and you launched into your speech and presentation. Minji watched, mesmerized, as you effortlessly explained the concept and inspiration behind your project. You spoke with passion and conviction, your words painting a vivid picture in the minds of the judges.

Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and ownership as she listened to you speak. She'd played a crucial role in the project, of course, but you'd taken the lead, and your vision and creativity had brought the whole thing together.

As the judges asked questions, Minji stepped forward, providing clear and concise explanations that complemented your own words perfectly. You worked together seamlessly, like two parts of a well-oiled machine.

The judges nodded, impressed, as you and Minji fielded their questions with ease. You could tell that you'd made a strong impression, and Minji's confidence grew with every passing moment.

Finally, the judges announced the winner, and you and Minji held your breath as they revealed the results. And then, you heard the words you'd been longing to hear: "And the first-place winner is... Minji and Y/N!"

You and Minji erupted into cheers, hugging each other tightly as the audience applauded wildly. You'd done it – you'd won the competition!

As you accepted your prize, a trophy and a certificate, you couldn't help but glance over at Jiwon and Taeoh, your rivals. They looked stunned, their faces pale with disappointment.

Minji, on the other hand, was beaming with pride. She grinned at you, her eyes shining with happiness, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment.

You'd worked together, side by side, to create something truly special. And now, you'd been rewarded for your hard work and dedication.

As you walked offstage, trophy in hand, Minji turned to you and whispered, "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

You smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie and connection. "We definitely do," you replied, your voice low and husky.

Minji's eyes sparkled with amusement, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you. Would you continue to work together, creating new and exciting projects? Or would you take your talents in different directions, pursuing solo endeavors?

Whatever the future held, one thing was certain: you and Minji had created something truly special, something that would stay with you forever.

As you walked offstage, basking in the glory of your win, Minji turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Hey, want to celebrate this weekend?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind?" you asked, playing along.

Minji's grin faltered for a moment, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with a delicate pink. "I was thinking we could grab some ice cream or something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You teased her, trying to get a rise out of her. "Oh, Minji, are you asking me out on a date?" you asked, your voice dripping with amusement.

Minji's face turned bright red, and she smacked you on the head, her eyes flashing with mock anger. "No, dummy!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I just wanted to celebrate our win, that's all."

You chuckled, rubbing your sore head. "Okay, okay, I get it," you said, grinning. "No date, just ice cream."

Minji rolled her eyes, still laughing. "That's right," she said, smiling. "Just ice cream."

The weekend rolled around, and you met up with Minji at the prescribed park. She stood up to get the ice cream, leaving you to wait for her on the park bench.

As you sat there, watching the people walk by, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. You'd grown closer to Minji over the past few weeks, and you were starting to realize that your feelings for her went beyond mere friendship.

Minji returned with the ice cream, a big smile on her face. "I got your favorite flavor," she said, handing you a cone.

You took a lick, savoring the sweet, creamy taste. "Mmm, thanks," you said, grinning.

But as you were eating, disaster struck. Your spoon slipped from your fingers, falling to the ground with a clatter.

You pouted, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Aww, man," you said, sighing.

Minji laughed, finding your reaction adorable. "It's okay, I'll share mine with you," she said, holding out her spoon.

You smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. "Thanks," you said, taking a bite of her ice cream.

As you ate, you couldn't help but notice the way Minji's eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She was so beautiful, so full of life and energy.

At one point, you opened your mouth, expecting Minji to feed you. She looked at you, surprised, but then she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

She fed you a bite of ice cream, her spoon touching your lips. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a spark of electricity that seemed to jump between you.

Minji's eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the world around you melting away.

It was a moment of pure intimacy, a moment that seemed to speak volumes about your feelings for each other.

As you pulled away, Minji's spoon still touching your lips, you couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Were you and Minji something more than just friends?

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as you continued to eat your ice cream, the tension between you palpable.

But for now, you just savored the moment, enjoying the sweet, creamy taste of the ice cream, and the warm, fuzzy feeling that seemed to be growing between you and Minji.

As you finished the ice cream, Minji looked at you for a while, her eyes searching yours as if seeking something. You, on the other hand, were oblivious to her gaze, too busy admiring the view in the park.

The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the lush green grass and vibrant flowers. Children were laughing and playing, their joyful shouts and giggles filling the air. It was a peaceful, serene atmosphere, one that made you feel grateful to be alive.

But Minji's gaze was not to be ignored. She looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, her eyes burning with a passion and sincerity that took your breath away.

You turned to her, sensing that something was amiss. And that's when you saw it - the look of determination, of vulnerability, of hope.

Minji took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. And then, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, she spoke the words that would change everything.

"I have something to tell you," she said, her eyes locked onto yours. "Something important."

You felt a surge of curiosity, your heart racing with anticipation. "What is it?" you asked, your voice low and husky.

Minji's eyes searched yours, as if seeking reassurance. And then, in a voice that was trembling with emotion, she spoke the words that would capture your heart forever.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut, your breath knocked out of you. But it wasn't a painful feeling - it was exhilarating, liberating.

You looked at Minji, your eyes locking onto hers. And then, with a smile that came from the heart, you spoke the words that would seal your fate forever.

"I'm already there," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

Minji's face lit up with joy, her eyes shining with tears. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope.

You nodded, your heart overflowing with love. "Really," you said, your voice filled with conviction.

And then, in a moment that was both tender and passionate, Minji leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that sealed your love forever.

As you kissed, the world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the magic of the moment. It was a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, a kiss that left you breathless and wanting more.

And when you finally pulled away, gasping for air, Minji smiled up at you, her eyes shining with love.

"Does that mean you're my girlfriend now?" you asked, your voice filled with excitement.

Minji laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, of course, silly," she said, her voice filled with love.

And with that, you sealed your fate forever, your love growing stronger with every passing moment.

#daisy works !🐈#newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans minji #minji x reader #minji fluff #kpop imagines

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shiftinghoesblog · 2 days ago

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yapping about my drs ❕❕

okay so this was a request from one of my moots to do this so yeah!!

i have no clue where to start but i’ll talk about some of my desired realities that i shift to but probably mainly non group shift ones so personal ones 🫦

INFLUENCER

- this is one of my most recent drs i’ve been scripting and not gonna lie the main reason i’m shifting here is because of my man 🤭 he cosplays gojo... so you probably know as to why but besides the point, i was raised a nepo baby and younger sister to meghan thee stallion. i am a content creator, influencer (duh), fashion designer and i live with my s/o in the upper east side of new york🗽. i scripted that my first shift will be during christmas eve because who wouldn't wanna experience the city that never sleeps during the festive season and with your partner 😩 it’s gonna be the dream. i have a mad crazy friend group but i love them all because we’re so hot, cool and sexy. i did script that megan’s parents are still alive in my dr so let’s not worry about that. 💀 i dreamt about this dr a couple of times actually and about my s/o 😍, a couple of my friends. really looking forward to this dr.

OUTER BANKS

- i think i shifted here like twice or a couple of times but didn't realise it because i did mention to y’all about chilling with kiara and sarah, another time i did find myself surfing like literally just living the life through the waves and my ass thought it was a dream. looking back i doubt it was, in many instances to be honest. in this dr i am the sister to kiara and my s/o is pope 😌 i grew up a kook but i transitioned to a pogue when i joined the others. i’m the reason behind kiara and sarah making up and i’m close with rafe since kiara and sarah were best friends and probably would have sleepovers together. i scripted that cleo’s lesbian lmao 😭 you know why. i wiped the plot out a little and also made everyone graduate already so that school is out of the way when hunting for the gold.

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

yep, i have an atla dr yay! in this dr i’m the oldest sister to kiara and sokka. i’m a waterbending master and my s/o’s zuko??? enemies to lovers kinda vibe. definitely part of the gaang and i’m shifting here because atla is part of my childhood. i have the ability to also create ice and other powerful combat skills so i can't wait to experience this universe.

LEGENDS OF KORRA

i also have a lok dr because why not, i’m the little sister to korra the avatar but i’m gonna prove to everyone that i’m also capable to make a difference and i scripted that i can blood bend.. so ain't no one gonna touch me as well still being able to water bend. my s/o is bolin because he’s so underrated for real.

THE ORIGINALS

in this dr, i’m a hybrid so vampire and werewolf and an adopted mikealson. i live in new orleans and my parents are rebekah and marcel even though their not my bio parental figures because they are already dead 💀. also hopefully i can survive when dahlia comes in because i scripted that my first shift will be during season 2 😓 well shit wish me luck y’all. at least i’ll get to see baby hope aw.

FAME

i have a fame dr because i love attention 🥰 my main profession is being an actor and i’m known for my role in the vampire diaries. i also play robin in the one piece live action and act in many more projects, a nepo baby in this dr too because almost all my family members are well-known. my s/o is caleb mclaughlin? he plays lucas in stranger things and our characters in the show dated so that’s how our relationship sparked.

TWILIGHT

i love talking about drs so yeah i have a twilight dr where when i first shift, i’ll be human but i get turned by a villain in order to send the cullens (my friends) a warning like it’s “game on” so i’m gonna have to mentally prepare myself because i’m gonna basically die 😭 lmao. my s/o is jacob because i’m team jacob simple and it’s a slow burn 😀 woop woop.

SOME OTHER DRS

waiting room - i plan on permashifting here, chill, script, feel free, play with my cat, breath fresh air.

better cr - a better version of my cr and my s/o is jiung from p1harmony, i live with jenna ortega, i attend a boarding school in london, i also model.

wednesday - i’m the sister to bianca and my s/o is kent, i’m a siren and psychic medium.

fate: the winx saga - it’s so underrated i see no one shift here but it’s like the winx live action adaption on netflix, the only dr where i didn't script an s/o.

ateez - my s/o is san and i’m the only female and 9th member, main rapper, performer and maknae.

streamer - i go by lemonpie and my s/o is cory kenshin 😚.

victorious - grew up watching it and i’m andre’s sister.

soloist - i’m a k-pop soloist in this dr and my s/o is blackpink jisoo (yes I’m wlw) she’s so 😍😍😍.

singles inferno - this is a dating reality tv show but at the end of it i end up with wonho (ex. monsta x) i’m besties with song jia.

GROUP SHIFTS

not gonna lie they piss me off if they don’t put the damn effort

one piece (anime) - so far my most enjoyable one is the one piece (anime) shared dr because we talk almost everyday. anywho my s/o is sanji ahhh my vinsmoke baby! i’m the little sister to the asl brothers and my devil fruit is similar to aokoiji so ice ect. i am part of the straw hats and joined them during the alabasta arc.

kard - the k-pop co-ed group basically, me and the person barely talk so you see why i prefer my personals drs.. yeah. my s/o is enhypen’s jay 😍 and my positions are sub-rapper, sub-vocalist, producer and maknae. i’m always a maknae in k-pop group drs for some reason 😭.

the legacies - person dipped on me and didn't even fill any of their sections so! i’m poly with hope and josie, i’m a werewolf and witch.

harry potter - i’m the head girl of slytherin and my s/o’s draco, i scripted fred’s death out. also shifting to the half-blood prince era.

teen wolf - i’m a tribrid in this dr so i’m gonna be unstoppable!

the vampire diaries - a bennett witch, cousin to bonnie.

one piece (live action) - i’m a phoenix hybrid in this dr and also part of the straw hats, grew up around shanks.

private romantic - umm this dr ticks me off low-key because the person that i’m group shifting with ghosts me 😝 i didn't script an s/o for a reason i’m just gonna ditch them for jonathan daviss 💀💀💀 like imagine fumbling manon (I'm shifting as manon from katseye in this dr) i don’t want that person as my s/o anymore and like we’re “friends” here, miss me with that shit.

my hero academia - the group shift is dead bro no one is fucking talking in the group chat, one of them quit shifting, the other i was pfp matching with changed their damn pfp without telling me. script ain't finished too, they all called it a day. and y'all wonder why i don't wanna join no group shift no more.

this was lengthy but y’all asked to yap about my drs other than jujutsu kaisen which you already know about that dr and spill some tea so i did exactly that, i hope you enjoyed and this better not flop, i spent hours typing this 🥳.

@angelic-daiquiri

#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifters #shifting community #desired reality #shifting antis dni #shifting #anti shifters dni #permashifting #group shifting #shifting to desired reality #shfting motivation #dr dreams #law of assumption #shifting storytimes #jjk shifting

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oldsoul007 · 1 day ago

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blended

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and Joel, best friends for years, fall in love but keep their relationship a secret from their kids. Until…

joel miller masterlist

Joel Miller and I had been neighbors for as long as either of us could remember. Our backyards were separated by a tall wooden fence, but that was more of a formality than anything. In reality, our houses were an extension of each other, and over the years, the boundaries between our lives had blurred. We were both single parents—Joel raising his spirited daughter, Sarah, and me looking after my young son, Dean. Life hadn’t been easy for either of us.

Joel’s wife had left when Sarah was just a baby, leaving him with a little girl to raise on his own. Me, on the other hand, had found myself a single mother after an unexpected divorce. Both of us had been thrust into the daunting world of parenting without the safety net of a partner, but somehow, we made it work.

Our bond started small, over shared cups of coffee on early mornings when both kids were at school or daycare. We’d watch each other struggle with the chaos of work and parenting, the endless juggling act, and laugh about how nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in the movies. Over time, we became more than just neighbors; we became best friends.

Joel would pick up Dean from soccer practice when I had to work late, and I would help Sarah with school projects when Joel was caught in work. There was a kind of quiet understanding between us, a bond that didn’t need words. We helped each other out without asking, our friendship built on mutual respect and the recognition that, in this crazy world of single parenthood, we were in it together.

It wasn’t just the practical stuff that kept us close. It was the late-night talks, the way we’d vent about the frustrations of being a single parent and life. Joel would talk about how hard it was to balance everything and still try to be the dad Sarah needed, and I would nod along, sharing how sometimes, I just needed a moment to breathe.

But lately, things had started to feel different. There was an underlying tension between us that neither had quite acknowledged. Maybe it was the way I laughed at Joel’s jokes a little too long, or how Joel caught himself lingering in the kitchen when I was making dinner, offering to chop vegetables for me when he didn’t really need to. It was subtle at first—a lingering look, a hand brushing against the other’s arm—but neither of us could deny it.

One evening, after our kids had gone to bed, Joel found himself sitting on my porch with a beer in hand, the air cool and quiet around us. Sarah had spent the night at a friend’s house, and Noah had fallen asleep on the couch watching cartoons. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when the house was still, and the noise of parenthood seemed far away.

I sat beside him, my legs stretched out in front of me as I looked up at the stars. “You ever think about dating again?” I asked casually, my voice low, as if I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

Joel glanced over at me, surprised. He had thought about it, of course, but it felt like a distant idea. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s hard. Sarah’s still so young, and I don’t know how to balance that with someone else. You?”

I smiled softly, the kind of smile that made my eyes crinkle at the corners. “Same. But sometimes… I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know?”

He nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence comfortable but charged.

Then, almost without thinking, Joel leaned in, closing the space between us. He hadn’t meant for it to happen—it just did. But when our lips met, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hand found its way to my cheek, and I leaned into him, the kiss deepening, soft but full of meaning.

For a long moment, there was only the quiet sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was like the world outside had disappeared, leaving just the two of us—two people who had been through so much and had somehow found a way to comfort each other.

Me and Joel had been seeing each other for a few months, our relationship blossoming quietly under the radar.

But me and Joel had decided early on to keep things under wraps. Our kids, Dean and Sarah, were at that precarious age where any major shift in our lives could feel monumental. Dean, my 8-year-old son, had a sharp eye and a habit of piecing together puzzles he wasn’t meant to. Sarah, Joel’s 7-year-old daughter, was a little more reserved, but she had a knack for overhearing conversations at precisely the wrong moments. We weren’t ready for questions, pushback, or the inevitable emotional fallout—not yet.

So, we snuck around.

On Wednesday evenings, when Sarah and Dean were at soccer practice, me and Joel would meet for dinner at an out-of-the-way restaurant. We’d laugh over shared stories of parenting mishaps and steal kisses in the parking lot, always mindful of the time. Weekends required even more creativity. Sometimes, Joel would claim he needed to “work late” while I pretended I was out for a “girls’ night,” and we’d catch a movie or go for a drive. Our favorite escape was a small café on the edge of town that neither of our kids would ever frequent.

The sneaking added a layer of excitement, but it also made things complicated. The guilt of hiding weighed on us both, but it also pushed us to make sure this was something real before introducing it to our kids.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” I said one evening as we sat in Joel’s car, parked on a quiet street after dinner.

“I know,” Joel replied, reaching for my hand. “But I just… I want to be sure. I want them to see how much this means to me before we bring them into it.”

I nodded, my heart warm but conflicted. We both knew the risk. If Dean or Sarah found out before we were ready, the fallout could be messy. But for now, we were content to live in our little secret bubble, savoring stolen moments and the thrill of something new.

We promised each other that when the time was right—when we were both certain this relationship had a future—we’d tell our kids together. Until then, we’d keep sneaking around, juggling the demands of our lives while holding onto this spark that made all the secrecy feel worth it.

Me and Joel stood in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the quiet house. Joel had just finished fixing the leaky faucet and was leaning against the counter, his warm gaze locked on me.

“You know,” he said with a small, teasing smile, “this house really keeps me busy. I might have to start charging you for all the repairs.”

I laughed softly, my cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, please. You love it here.”

“I do,” Joel murmured, his voice turning softer. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed me. It was tender, unhurried—a moment just for us.

Or so we thought.

“Mom?! Dad?!”

We pulled apart abruptly to see Dean and Sarah standing in the doorway, our eyes wide. Dean looked utterly baffled, while Sarah wore an expression that practically screamed, Finally.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, his voice rising in confusion.

I froze, a guilty smile tugging at my lips. “Uh… well…”

“They were kissing, Dean,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean blinked, looking between us. “Wait. Why?!”

Joel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s all sit down and talk, okay?”

The kids followed us into the living room, where me and Joel sat on the couch, with Dean and Sarah plopping down across from us.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Joel and I have been spending a lot of time together, as you know. And we’ve realized that we care about each other in a different way than just being friends.”

Dean tilted his head. “Like… boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Joel nodded. “Exactly. But we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure, because you two are the most important people to us, and we wanted to make sure this wouldn’t upset you.”

Dean stared at us for a moment, then asked, “So… is Joel and Sarah gonna live here now?”

I chuckled softly. “No, not right now. Joel and Sarah will still live next door. We’re just taking things one step at a time.”

Sarah, who had been unusually quiet, finally grinned. “I knew it. You guys were so obvious.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Obvious?”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. My dad’s over here all the time, you’re always laughing at his dumb jokes, and you look at each other like those people in the movies. I told Dean this was going to happen.”

Dean looked Sarah, frowning. “Wait, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you wouldn’t get it,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh.

Dean looked back at Joel and I, squinting. “So… does this mean Joel can take us to the arcade more? ‘Cause that’d be cool.”

Joel laughed, relieved. “Sure, buddy. I’d be happy to take you guys to the arcade.”

Sarah smirked. “And you owe us ice cream for keeping this a secret.”

Joel grinned. “Deal.”

I smiled at the kids, my heart swelling with relief. “So… you guys are okay with this?”

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of weird, but it’s also cool. We’re basically a family anyway.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like we already knew, kinda.”

I reached out, pulling them both into a hug. “You two are amazing. Thank you for being so understanding.”

As the kids scampered off, Sarah turned back at the doorway. “Just no more kissing in front of us, okay? It’s gross.”

Joel chuckled. “Deal.”

When we were alone, Joel looked at me and smiled. “That went a lot better than I thought it would.”

I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “It did. They’re happy, and so am I.”

Joel kissed my temple, his voice low and warm. “Then I’d say we’re off to a pretty great start.”

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frostbitten-writer · 3 days ago

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It’s not a Reunion if you never left

Pairing: Ekko x gn!reader ( lovers, to enemies to lovers)

Tags + Warnings: No specific description of R; R has a gun; R and Ekko were dating in childhood (teenagers); ANGST/COMFORT -> SUGGESTIVE AT THE END

A/n: So what I realised is that you guys don’t like angst as much as I do, so I’ll give you the ‘fluff’ you deserve *wink wink* Plus what’s important, for the Plot, Ekko and R are a bit older (22-23 years old). Int the Childhood memories -> (14-15 years old)

Ekko knew too much about death and sacrifices, knew too much of all of the things Zaunites had to go through, he knew it because he, as well, lived it all through.

But when he saw you? You, the person he adored so much as a teenager. You, his childhood lover, the person he thought would be with him forever, you, that somehow disappeared or died… he didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks.

It was like seeing a ghost, seeing a person so familiar and yet seeing a complete stranger. You were still the same, but not quite how he remembered. Your face got a lot slimmer, your hair changed, and the clothes that were obviously made by you were hanging loosely on your form.

But your eyes.. the windows to life itself seemed so dim, the colour seemed to be so dark, your expression so harsh and rough, just like you now in general.

Eight years really did something to you, and even if he didn’t know what happened, he still felt the same tug to you, the feeling only you could radiate. The aura of acceptance and understanding was so foreign in Zaun, so whenever Ekko had the chance, he would bask in your presence, knowing that whatever that would happen, you could make it right. And then.. it all ended when you disappeared, or left.. He was so sure that you died, and his childish grief was unbearable. Late nights were spent crying in his bed, vows were whispered, quiet sobs of reassurance that everything will be good, that he will fight for you.

So when he saw you, safe and sound, he felt a bit fooled. What do you mean that eight years were spent grieving for a person that just.. simply left? His fingers twitched softly, the muscle memory absentmindedly ready to go for a tight hug. But he couldn’t, not when he didn’t even know why you were here.

“Look who came back from the dead.” He said mockingly, a sneer on his face as he watched your form in the distance.

“Look who’s talking with the dead,” You replied, nails tapping the gun that was fastened to your belt, a cool undertone to your voice.

“You changed, Ekko..” You mused as you looked him up and down, eyes lingering and quickly moving from place to place. “What’s with the dirt on your face?” The mocking confusion was evident, and that made his jaw clench.

“Is that the only thing you have to say?! After all those years? Dirt on my face? Dirt is already a part of me in this rat hole! You’d know that if you hadn’t been gone, Toots!”

You watched his eyes widen in embarrassment, the nickname he’d give you while you were still children slipping effortlessly from his tongue.

“Ah.. the good old nickname, huh? Brings back old good memories.” You muttered and Ekko watched you take some steps closer to him, and he felt his heart beat harder with every step you took.

“The times we were together, Ekko..” You whispered as you stood right in front of him, your hand on your hip next to the gun.

“We were children, that would’ve changed…” He muttered in response. Lies, he didn’t believe that, his inner child was screaming otherwise, saying that if he tried a bit harder you’d stay.

“Yes, but those were the good times.. when we were children. Kind and innocent, not carrying the heavy blood on our hands.” Ekko watched you talk, words coming gracefully out of your mouth, the same way you’d tell him the solution.. to everything. To life itself.

“The times when we’d be inseparable, hip to hip. The time when we felt something-…” You continued to tell the stuff that came to mind, eyes filled with confusion as you stared down at the ground, your hand moving upwards to his chest, the barrel suddenly touching his heart. “- right here..”

The tip of the gun was cold against his chest, the cool feeling seeping through his shirt.

“We were stupid, nothing is eternal. We grew.” He looked at you as his jaw ticked, the gun to his heart not intimidating him at all.

“-And yet you still act like a child.” He suddenly added. “Leaving without a word and now pointing a gun that you don’t even know how to handle.”

You scoffed, the emotional side suddenly changed to irritation.

“Excuse you, I know how to handle a gun just right!” You exclaimed, eyes furrowing and eyes widening.

“Oh yeah? A person with a gun doesn’t hesitate to just shoot.”

“I could shoot just right, nerd.” You sneered, the pistol skimming up to his mandible.

“Don’t call me that,” He hissed, breath hitching at the feeling of the cold metal against his jaw. He’d be lying if the sensation wasn’t making him nervous, but not the usual nervous but another. The one that kinda makes you weak in the knees.

“Why not? You are a nerd, always have been.” You shrugged, the distance between your bodies almost invisible.

“Why don’t you shoot, huh? Show how great you are. I’m not scared of your lil’ gun” He mocked and took a small step forward, as if challenging you by standing even closer to the bullet.

“You should be.”

He should be afraid, afraid to lose his life, but in the end he was more afraid to lose his mind with you. Why was he playing this game? Maybe or maybe not because he liked it…

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you like pointing it at me..” He said with a strained voice, the last bit of his clear mind going to waste.

“Hm, maybe. But I’d say that I like pulling the trigger more..” You breathed out, not backing down.

You both knew what kind of a game you were playing, and maybe that was the point. The tension was palpable, electric.. nothing could quite describe it. The air was cold where you were standing, but none of you two could feel it due to your own reasons.

“I could just-“ Your finger slowly moved to cock the gun, and yet he quickly snatched it and slammed his lips against yours, doing you both the favour of doing the first step. The kiss was filled with emotions, anger, hatred and yet relief that it was you.

It was a lot more different than the kisses you’d share in the past, it was quick, sloppy, but who cared? You surely didn’t, since you wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled him flush against you. The pistol fell down with a clack but none of you paid attention, you had other stuff to do.

Ekko was still angry and frustrated, knowing that his grief was for nothing, but on the other hand it all was for nothing, you were there, in his arms, grip and lips to lips-.

You never fully left when you never left his mind.

Support banner: @/cafekitsune

#arcane #frosty’s works #ekko x male reader #ekko x y/n #ekko x you #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #ekko lol #ekko league of legends #ekko #ekko fluff #leauge of legends #ekko x fem reader #ekko smut

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bueckersstuff · 3 days ago

Text

REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1, 2, & 3

Chapter 4: New Life

You had come to terms with the fact that you'd never escape Paige. Memories of everything that involved her had begun flooding back over the past few days, piece by piece. But no one had to know—not even your dad. You just wanted to start fresh. And Paige? She was long gone from your life.

You were deep cleaning your room when your dad came in, his face serious. "Can we talk for a minute?"

You paused, wiping your hands on the towel. "Sure."

"So," he started, clearly hesitant, "I was thinking… maybe it's time for you to go back to school."

You froze, the towel dropping to the floor. "You're sending me back to New York?"

"No, honey," he said, his tone softening. "You're going to attend UConn. Is that okay with you? You can do some research if you want, so you’ll have an idea about the school." He continued, but you were already zoned out the moment he mentioned UConn. Only one thing came to mind.

Paige Madison Bueckers. Women's Basketball Star Athlete. UConn. You think maybe your dad is doing it on purpose, but then he doesn’t know that you remember Paige now. Or maybe it’s God, punishing you for lying to him.

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your reaction. "Yeah, sure. I mean… new scenery won’t hurt, right?"

Your dad looked relieved. "Great. I was worried you might not like the idea, but I already processed all your documents with the university. You’re scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow."

You nodded, your stomach twisting as the words hung in the air. What else could you say? You had no choice.

The day arrived. The University of Connecticut was not a stranger to you. But your dad had no idea. You’d been there once before, and just the thought of it made you grimace.

The first time you went was when Paige was in her second year. She kept insinuating how cool it would be if you showed up to one of her games, so you planned to surprise her by booking a plane ticket. You didn’t tell anyone, not even your parents in New York. It was mid-year, and you had classes the next day, so you’d need to return soon. You went to UConn to surprise Paige, but instead, you were the one who ended up surprised.

Before entering the Gampel Pavilion, you overheard murmurs about Paige being in a relationship with one of her teammates. At first, you couldn’t believe it. You were her best friend! She didn’t even think to tell you? You went inside anyway, determined to see her, but when you saw Paige with that girl from her team, your world came crashing down. The closeness between them was undeniable—different from the rest. You couldn't stop imagining yourself in that girl’s place, talking to Paige, her smiling, tapping your cheek just like old times. And that’s when it hit you. You weren't supposed to be the one in her life anymore.

Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. The woman sitting next to you looked at you with confusion, but you couldn’t care. You stood up, running out of the arena, your heart breaking with each step.

After that, everything changed. You realized what you wanted—what you had always wanted and more. But by then, it was too late.

Paige has no idea what happened to you. Later that night, she texted you, informing you about her game. But you just couldn't bring yourself to talk to her. You turned bitter, but you also had no courage to actually tell her anything. Every conversation with her turned into arguments because Paige isn't telling you anything and keeps pretending like she doesn't have a girl waiting for her on the other side of the line. Or maybe they were together, you thought. You're always mad, so is she, because she keeps saying she can't understand you anymore. So you stopped trying.

Days passed, months, then a year. You heard nothing from her. Just the occasional glimpse of her life through social media, and you could see she was happy. Still with that girl. She completely forgot about you.

Then came the injury. You learned about it from the news, and you immediately went to your contacts, your finger hovering above her name, then pressed call.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end wasn’t Paige’s. It was sweet, warm, but unfamiliar.

"Hi, is Paige there? I just wanted to know if she’s okay? I’m her—"

"Ah, yes. Paige is fine," the voice cut you off. "But it’s best for her to rest right now. It’s been a long day. I got her, no need for you to be concerned."

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Who’s this?"

"This is Azzi." Oh. Azzi as in the teammate number 35? The one rumored to be more than just a teammate. Your heart sank, but you didn’t press further. Paige was okay, that’s all that mattered. Even if your heart was breaking all over again.

Days passed. Paige sent you messages every now and then, but you never replied.

Hey, how are you? So, I happened to tear my ACL in case you didn’t know. Hey. Aren’t you gonna check in on me? I miss you. What happened to us?

You saw them all, each one digging deeper into the ache in your chest. But you remembered Azzi’s words. Paige was happy with her. So why would she need you?

"Excuse me." You snapped out of your thoughts, realizing your mood had shifted into something darker. It was your first day at school, and you didn’t want to carry this weight with you.

You turned, startled, and found a guy standing there, waiting for your attention. "Yes?" you replied, trying to shake off the sadness.

"Are you the transferee? I'm Luke, from the student council. I was tasked to be your guide for the day," he introduced himself.

You gave him a small smile and introduced yourself. He seemed friendly, helpful, and guided you through the entire day—showing you the Engineering Faculty for your schedule, then taking you to the Swim Club, a place your dad had convinced you to join.

By the time you were back in your dorm, it was already evening. You had one roommate, but she wasn’t here yet. The name on her door read "Hailey," so you figured that was her.

Around 8 pm, a knock came at your door. You opened it to find a tall brunette holding a paper bag.

"Hi, I’m Hailey! I’ve been waiting for you since yesterday, once they told me I’d have a roommate. Also, here." She handed you the bag.

"Hi, it’s really nice of you, but you didn’t have to bring me a gift..." You said, shyly.

"Uh, first off, I’m broke as hell, girl. Second, it’s not from me. Third, it has your name on it, so I assumed it’s for you. It was left at our door," Hailey said, grinning.

You looked inside the bag, and to your surprise, there were containers of food. A note simply read, "Dinner."

You frowned, puzzled. What was this about?

"Thank you, Hailey. It’s nice to meet you!" you said, still a little confused.

"No problem! I’m gonna crash now, though. Girl’s tired as hell." Hailey laughed and disappeared into her own room.

You closed the door, placed the bag on your study table, and examined the containers. But after a moment of thought, you shrugged. Maybe it was just a token from the school. You didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. You were tired, and you had school tomorrow.

The next morning, you got up early to get ready. You threw on some loose clothes that were a little too big for you. You didn’t like how you looked in tight clothes, always feeling too thin. You gazed into the mirror, a habit you're welcoming in your life again, one last time before leaving. Your long black hair, your pale skin, your black eyes… at least you were tall. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

As you walked out of your dorm, you noticed a white plastic bag by your door. But you didn’t have time to waste. You ignored it and headed to your classes.

Hours went by so fast. Classes were done, and you're walking now to your swimming club.

The first day of swim practice was intimidating. Still, you’d promised your dad you’d give it a try, so here you were. You’re excited but a little nervous, as you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. When you arrived, the pool area was bustling with energy. Swimmers of all ages were warming up, chatting with their teammates, and prepping for the day ahead. You are immediately drawn to the sense of camaraderie among the athletes. Everyone seemed to know each other, exchanging jokes and smiles, making it clear this was a tight-knit group.

You found your place with the women's team, and the coach, a tall, confident woman with short black hair, greeted you warmly. "Glad you could join us!" she said. "We've been waiting for you."

"Hi, it's nice to meet y’all." You introduced yourself to them warmly.

"Go change in the locker room so we can start with practice," Coach told you.

You stepped into the locker room, feeling the familiar wave of nervous energy. The room buzzed with activity as swimmers prepared for practice. A few glanced your way, but no one paid you much attention. You were the new face, after all.

"Hey! Transferee!" You turned to see a guy with messy brown hair and a friendly smile. He was tall, built—definitely a swimmer. Is that the guy from yesterday?

"Luke?"

"Nice to see you again. I’m on the men’s team." He grinned, extending his hand, which you shook. “I forgot to mention yesterday."

He then led you to the side of the pool where a few other teammates were gathered. “Alright, let’s meet the team. This is Mia," he said, pointing to a short, athletic girl who was busy adjusting her swim cap. “She’s a sprinter, one of the fastest in the team.”

Mia looked up and smiled at you, giving a quick wave. "Welcome to the chaos," she said with a laugh.

“Over there is Isaac," Luke continued, motioning toward a lanky guy sitting on the bleachers, flipping through his phone. "He’s our distance swimmer. Don’t let his chill demeanor fool you—he can swim a mile faster than most of us can run.”

Isaac lifted his head and gave you a lazy wave, flashing a grin. “Hey.”

"And that’s Ava," Luke said, gesturing to a tall, broad-shouldered girl who was stretching her legs by the edge of the pool. "She’s the team's powerhouse in backstroke."

Ava gave you a friendly nod but didn’t stop her stretches. “Nice to meet you,” she called, her voice calm and focused.

You smiled, feeling surprisingly at ease. The team seemed laid-back but also serious about their sport. You couldn’t help but admire how dedicated they were. They were all different, yet they worked seamlessly together.

Practice kicked off not long after, and you were quickly thrown into the mix. The coach, a no-nonsense woman named Coach Katie, had you start with some warm-up laps to get a feel for your speed.

Luke swam beside you during your first lap, offering tips and helping you adjust your strokes. “Don’t overthink it,” he said. “The water’s your friend. Just flow with it.”

You nodded, focusing on your breathing and the rhythm of your strokes. After a few laps, the nervousness faded, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity. The water felt less like a challenge and more like an extension of yourself.

The week flew by. Each day felt smoother than the last as you got used to the routine, your teammates, and the sport itself. Luke was always there to offer advice, but you noticed he also gave you space when you needed it. Mia and Isaac kept you laughing during breaks, and Ava’s quiet determination was contagious. And you've been having a good bond with your roommate, Hailey. It became a regular thing. Along with the magically popping food containers on your door step every day. But you think less of it, Hailey's the one who's enjoying all of it anyway.

You got into a groove with your training, and by the end of the week, you felt like you were starting to belong. Your muscles ached, but in a good way. You were pushing yourself, and it felt… right. You didn’t run into Paige once—not at the pool, not in the hallways, not in any of your classes.

It was as if she had never existed in this new chapter of your life.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were moving forward. There was no lingering past, no painful memories pulling at you. Just the present—the team, the practice, the friendships slowly forming.

Apparently, you learned that the team was gearing up for a competition the day after tomorrow. It’s currently the Big East season, and you’ll be competing against Villanova. It’s an away game, and Coach Katie needs everyone locked in. So, you spent your free time practicing with the team.

Competition Day. You’re all lining up to board the school bus for the swim team when you notice another bus parked beside it. Students in athletic gear are also lining up to board it.

“It’s the basketball team. I heard we have the same venue this time,” Mia explains as she notices you staring. “They’re playing Villanova’s women’s basketball team.”

You scan their line, your eyes searching for a certain blonde. There she is, you think. Paige is standing there, chatting animatedly with her two teammates about something funny. One of them has a number 10 on her gear. And there’s Azzi. If it isn’t Azzi Fudd.

Suddenly, you catch the number 10 girl staring at you and saying something to Paige, who quickly turns her head toward your direction.

Shit, were you caught? You're not supposed to know her!

Thankfully, it’s your turn to load the bus. As you walk up the steps and find a seat, you feel eyes on you from outside. You can’t help but glance back. There’s no harm in it as long as you don’t show any emotion or recognition, you tell yourself. The number 10 girl has a small smile on her face and shakes her head at Paige. Meanwhile, Paige is still looking at you through the window with a blank expression on her face. But what shocks you the most is Azzi’s expression. It’s a mix of recognition and something between troubled and apologetic.

You turn back around and take your seat then sighed. This is going to be a long day.

A/N: Don't get me wrong guys, I love Azzi very muchhh. She's a princess. This is just for the plot! Much lovee <3

Taglist: @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj @0phantom0 @authentic-girl03 @thelightknight21 @shartnugget26

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #azzi fudd #paige x reader #nika mühl #nika muhl

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