#i want him so bad it makes me look stupid
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୨୧ NIGHTMARES
───── IN WHICH you have a bad nightmare about the members cheating on you!
(🐰) ⟡ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 — 𝒽yung line! enha & 𝑓! reader .. angst to fluff, established relationship ♡ ◞ wc 0.3K each 𓂅 warnings : topic of cheating, skinship, kissing.
𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
LEE HEESEUNG
YOU FOUND YOURSELF waking up gasping, your body hot and uncomfortable as your heart hammered in your chest.
the vivid memories of the dream lingered in your memory—the distant look on heeseung’s face, the other person’s face, and the way he had looked at you like you were absolutely nothing to him.
you sat up, the blankets tangled around your legs as you tried to shake off the ache in your chest.
heeseung stirred beside you with a groan at the disturbance of his slumber, his hand immediately reaching out for you, his voice groggy as he blinked up at you. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶 ♡
“what’s wrong, babe?” his eyes were barely open, but the concern in his voice was quite clear. you didn’t want to tell him. it was stupid, simply a figment of your imagination, but the pain still felt so real.
he noticed your hesitation, now fully awake as he sat up to face you. “hey—talk to me. did you have a bad dream?”
“it’s nothing,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze, but your trembling voice betrayed you.
heeseung gently cupped your face with a pout, his thumbs wiping away the glossy tears you didn’t realize had fallen. “nothing doesn’t make you cry like this. tell me, baby.”
finally, you broke—spilling everything in a blabber of words, how you dreamt that he had cheated on you, how cold and uncaring he had been in the dream, and how it left you feeling so vulnerable.
heeseung’s eyes widened, and his expression softened into something that made your chest ache even more—love and guilt for something he hadn’t even done.
“angel,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. “i don’t know what i did in your dream, but i’m so sorry it made you feel like this. i promise you, on everything in this world—i would never, ever, ever do that to you.”
his hold around you was firm, grounding, and his voice gentle as he reassured you. “i love you so much, words can’t even explain it. you’re the only one for me in this lifetime, and all my other ones too, okay? i love you and you only. whatever happened in that dream isn’t real, but i know your emotions are, and i’ll do whatever i can to make you feel better.”
you sniffled at his words as you clutched onto his shirt tighter, the pain easing away as he held you in his embrace.
he stayed up with you for the rest of the night, holding you close in his arms and whispering sweet affirmations until your breathing evened out and sleep finally came.
PARK JONGSEONG
THE SOUND OF YOUR SOBS had quickly pulled jay out of his deep slumber immediately.
he bolted upright, his sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on you, curled up onto your side with your face buried in your hands.
“honey, what’s wrong?” his voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to touch your shoulder. you flinched at his touch, which only deepened his worry. “did something happen? are you hurt?”
you shook your head, trying to compose yourself and get it together, but the dream had felt so real.
his voice, the way he held someone else so easily, and the way he had walked away from you with no regrets—it all came rushing back.
jay’s hand hovered in the air before he gently turned you to face him. “hey, look at me. please.” his voice was softer now, his brows furrowed in concern.
you took a shaky breath and finally met his gaze. “i had a dream that you.. that you cheated on me.”
jay blinked, his lips parting in surprise. for a moment, he didn’t know what to say, but then he saw the tears pouring down your face, the pain and heartbreak written all over your features, and his chest tightened.
“y/n,” he began carefully, his hands settling on the sides of your face. “i don’t know what happened in that dream, but i’m so sorry it hurt you like this.” his voice cracked slightly as he continued.
“you mean everything to me. even the thought of hurting you like that—” he stopped, shaking his head as if even imagining it was too much to bear.
“it wasn’t real,” you whispered, but your voice wavered.
“no, but your feelings are,” jay said reassuringly. “and i’m here to remind you that you’re the only one i want. i don’t care what dream jay did—i’m the real one, and i’d never do anything to lose you.”
he stayed with you, talking softly about the future he envisioned with you—little details like the places he wants to travel with you and the kind of house he dreams of building together. his words were like the calm after a storm, slowly mending the cracks the dream had left behind.
SIM JAEYUN
YOU DIDN’T REALIZE you had been crying in your sleep until you woke up to jake shaking you gently. “y/n? wake up. are you okay?” his voice was thick with drowsiness but filled with concern.
when you opened your eyes, the sight of his worried face brought a fresh wave of tears. he frowned, pulling you close. “hey, what’s wrong? talk to me.”
“i—i had a dream,” you managed to choke out, your voice muffled against his chest.
“what kind of dream?” jake’s voice was calm, but his hands trembled slightly as he held you, as if he were preparing himself for whatever you were about to say.
“you cheated on me,” you whispered, the words feeling like poison on your tongue.
jake pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide. “what?” his reaction was immediate—hurt flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a sadness. “oh, baby. i would never do that to you.”
“i know it was just a dream,” you said quickly, embarrassed by how emotional you felt. “but it felt so real, jake. i can’t shake it off.”
he didn’t say anything at first, he just pulled you back into his arms, holding you as though you might disappear. “i hate that you even had to feel like that, even in a dream,” he whispered against your hair.
“i love you so much, and the thought of hurting you like that—” he broke off, taking a deep breath. “i’d rather lose everything than lose you.”
jake spent the rest of the night proving it wasn’t just words. he showered you with affection, his hands brushing your hair back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple, your forehead, your cheeks. he didn’t let you go until he was sure you believed him.
PARK SUNGHOON
YOU WOKE UP ONLY to find sunghoon’s side of the bed empty, which only made the lingering weight of the dream worse.
the image of him with someone else, his cold voice telling you he was in love with someone else, played on repeat in your mind.
your cries must have been louder than you thought because moments later, sunghoon appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.
“you’re awake,” he said, his tone soft. “i heard you mumbling in your sleep. you okay?”
you shook your head, biting your lip in attempt to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. sunghoon was at your side in an instant, placing the glass on the nightstand and pulling you into his arms.
“what happened? did you have a nightmare?”
you nodded, but the words wouldn’t come out. sunghoon pulled back slightly to look at you, his hands cupping your face. “whatever it is, it’s okay. you can tell me.”
“i dreamt you cheated on me,” you finally admitted, your voice breaking at the words. sunghoon’s face fell, his brows furrowing together in confusion and pain at the sheer thought.
“cheated on you? y/n, no. never.” his voice was firm, almost desperate. “how could you even dream of something like that?”
“i know it wasn’t you,” you said quickly, tears streaming down your face. “but it felt so real, and i woke up feeling like i lost you.”
sunghoon sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you didn’t lose me. you never will.” his voice softened, and he rested his forehead against yours. “i don’t know what dream-me was thinking, but real-sunghoon is so crazy about you, it’s embarrassing sometimes.”
his attempt to cheer you up brought a small, shaky smile to your lips, which he immediately noticed.
“there it is,” he said softly, caressing away your tears. “that’s the smile i love. don’t let some stupid dream take it away.”
sunghoon stayed close to you all night, his warm presence being a reassurance—he made you laugh with funny stories and whispered sweet affirmations until the ache in your chest finally faded.
© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. i’m in love with my theme rn like omg why did i eat down.. anyways everybody plz pray there’s a snowday on monday !!
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun
#࣪ ︵ֺ︵ ㅤlu’s : writes ㅤ𝜚 ۪ ⠀ ⪩⪨#𝑘 ── ✉️#k films#svnet#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfic#enhypen drabbles#enha imagines#enha x reader#enha fanfic#park sunghoon imagines#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagine#enhypen fics#park jongseong imagines#sim jaeyun imagines#lee heeseung imagines#enhypen hyung line#park jay x reader#jake sim imagines#park sunghoon x reader#jake x reader#jay x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fanfic
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Dyslexia Problems
Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: you and Lando both have dyslexia
Warnings: swearing, dyslexia (if I’ve missed any please tell me!!)
You had gone golf with Lando and max for the day and they had randomly decided to go live on twitch. You was sat in the cart trying to cover your phone from the sun so you could read your text out but you huffed when all the letters were jumbled because of your dyslexia. “Lan? Is this spelt right?” You asked as you looked up to him as he held the camera.
He held his hand out and read your text but shook his head with furrowed brows when the letters were also jumbled from his dyslexia too. “Chat how do you spell neighbour?” Lando asked and looked at the chat to see the word repeated, some in caps.
“Okayyyyy thank you guys” Lando said with a little laugh as he typed the letters in on your phone and let you hit send.
“Thank you chat!” You said louder so they could hear you whilst max took his shot.
That was not all though….
Stupidly max asked you to read the subs out on the camera “thanks…uh- daivid? And thanks…kivy? For the subs” you smiled as you positioned the camera to look at max and Lando who were having a little play fight ending in Lando trying to poke max’s ass with the golf club and max running away with his hand covering his ass.
“Idiots” you shook your head behind the camera.
Chat:
User1: LMAOOOO THEIR SO FUNNY
User2: not y/n calling everyone the wrong name 😭
User3: ITS VICKY NOT KIVY 😭💀
User4: is she stupid?
User5: she’s dyslexic bro
You knotted your brows as you read the comments, “omg! Guys have I been calling you the wrong names?! I’m so sorry!” You gasped and slapped a hand to your mouth when you realised what the chat was talking about.
“Max! You take the camera! I suck at this job” you said dragging a hand down your face, “what are you talking about?” Max asked confused as he took the camera off of you.
“I can’t read the chat or their names…sorry guys” you said with an embarrassed smile “dyslexia?” Max grinned and you nodded “alright baby your turn!” Lando said as he handed you your golf ball.
“Thank you baby” you smiled as you took the ball from him.
“Y/n has really bad dyslexia guys” max explained as he read through some of the comments. “Yeah she hates it” Lando agreed with a nod of his head.
“You have dyslexia though” max pouted confused on why you hated it so much “yeah but hers is worse than mine and she loves reading but she has to use the text to speech thingy” Lando explained and max nodded “yeah she hates it” Lando gave a tight lipped smile but smiled when you walked over, he instantly wrapped a hand around your waist.
“Also chat- I didn’t wanna play this stupid game-“ I murmur to the camera but got cut off by Max “it’s a sport not a game” he corrected me for the 100th time.
I roll my eyes to the camera. “It’s a game.” I whisper to the camera making lando stifle a laugh.
……
This also occurred on streams…for example the time when Max was streaming with you and Lando.
You had somehow been given the job of calling out and thanking the subs..again.
“Thank you…uh- poopy?” I tilt my head and scrunch my brows as I read the username out and gasp when I read it again “sorry-! Sorry- I meant poppy..! Thanks poppy for the subs” I correct myself embarrassed
I hear lando’s laugh behind me as I’m sat on his lap, “Lan. it’s not funny-“ I roll my eyes playfully but he can’t help his laughs.
“Babe- you called her poopy?-“ he wheezes out whilst laughing, hiding his face in my hair from the stream. I shake my head smiling “I didn’t mean to!” I cover my face embarrassed.
Max is trying to bite back his laughs as he tries to focus on a game. He looks to the comments and bursts out laughing at all the jokingly offended fans.
I feel Lando squeeze his hold on my waist slightly “babe?” He whispers into my ear and I hum “mh?”
“Want your coloured slip thingys?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “no it’s fine..can you just read the subs out?” I ask and he nods “yeah.”
He continued to read the subs after that. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw the twitter posts the next morning…they did make me laugh.
…
Your dyslexia would also affect your texts…which were also pretty funny-
Lando was sat on the sofa at your shared apartment. max was also there but he was on the other sofa. Lando scrolled through instagram bored until he got a text from you.
Lando tried to read it and sighed, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He rubbed his forehead and looked up when max chuckled “what?” Lando asks
Max laughed “has y/n texted you?”
Lando nods “yeah- how’d you know?” He smiled confused
Max chuckled “cuz you look like your trying to read a different language” Lando laughed shaking his head
“Here you try and understand what she texted me.” Lando chuckled and handed his phone to max.
Y/N: Can yuo garb me smoe ciream?
Max knotted his brows as he tried to read it “fucking hell mate- how do her eyes make her think that’s right?”
Lando chuckled “don’t ask me.” He said as he took his phone back and texted back.
Lando: babe. I just had a headache trying to read that.
Y/N: gbra em some icremea?
Lando: it still ain’t spelt right babe.
Y/N: seriosly?
Lando: just call me. I cant keep trying to read this.
Max Fewtrell added to his story
Landonorris: I acc have a migraine after texting her.
Ynusername: blame my dyslexia not me ✋🏻
McLaren: you think her texts are bad..we have to deal with her emails!
User1: LMAO NOT MCLAREN CALLING HER OUT
User2: I WANNA SEE EM NOW 😭
Lewishamilton: relatable.
Ynusername: hey! Give me a break.
User3: how r her replies making sense if her texts don’t?
Landonorris: y/n uses autocorrect and speech to text to help her
Ynusername: idk what id do without it 😔✋🏻
…
This would also cause problems between her and her radio engineer, Fred.
“Freddie?” I ask into the radio as I hold the steering wheel tightly, going around a corner on the track.
“Yeah y/n?” He responds through the radio
“There’s something wrong with the uh- screen thingy-“ I say and Fred furrows his brows
“Uh- ya sure..? I’m looking now and it looks fine?” He asks confused
“It says I’m going at 013mph?” I ask confused as I ready screen on the car.
I hear Fred’s small chuckle through the radio “y/n- it’s your dyslexia. It says 103mph” he explains and I can’t help my embarrassed smile under my helmet
“Oh- I forgot about that. Thanks Freddo.” I giggle through the radio.
Fred chuckled “it’s fine. The cars fine though right?”
“Yeah- it’s fine. Just my dyslexia.” I giggle
I do another turn and sigh “Fred- what’s the gap?” I ask confused
Fred looks down at his screen “uh- Max is…0.845 seconds behind.” He reads and I nod
“Okay” I say as I try to remember the track in my head. I go to turn right but quickly swerve left.
“Shit- fuck- oops-“ I curse under my breath and I hear Fred through the radio
“What happened-?”
“I uh- I just forgot my left and right but it’s fine-“ I giggle quietly “sorry.”
Fred can’t help his laugh “don’t worry- just try to remember next time yeah?”
…
Or another struggle for you and Lando was cooking…
Lando was streaming whilst you and him baked or shall I say tried to bake a cake.
Lando was leaning against the counter, holding his phone with the recipe on it “uh- babe? I think we need help.” He says with knotted brows.
You look over to him “what? Why?”
Lando tuts as he tries to read the ingredients “I can’t make it out.”
You roll your eyes “lemme try” Lando scoffs lightly “okay- but I highly doubt you’ll be better than me.”
You try to read the ingredients and instructions but it’s all jumbled and messy “uh…never mind then.”
Lando chuckles and looks to the camera “guess we’re having pasta tonight chat.”
You giggle and nod “yup! Pasta it is.” You say as you grab different ingredients.
…
Lando, you and Oscar were doing an F1 game interview thingy for fun.
The interviewer had given you all your own white board. The game was that Oscar would have to guess the word that you and Lando got.
The interviewer smiles “okay- start.”
Lando and you look to the word on your boards. Lando tilted his head confused “uh…”
You also knotted your brows confused as you looked at the messy word. “Uh…lan? What does it say?” You whisper.
Lando chuckles “no idea..”
Oscar shakes his head amused “how the hell do I guess if you don’t know the word?”
Lando laughs lightly “uh- I think maybe you should do the word and me and y/n guess it.”
The interviewer giggles and nods “okay- switch if it’s easier”
Lando and you switch. Oscar chuckles “this is why we never let you two team up. You guys are awful together”
Lando nods with a laugh “two dyslexics.”
You giggle and nod “perfect match” you joke
#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x oc#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando x reader#lando x you#lando norizz#landonorris#lando x y/n#landoscar#lando fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris x female driver#lando#f1 x you#max fewtrell#oscar piastri#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#formula one#beahf1#f1 x y/n
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lucky strike - brother bsf! rafe (blurb)
pairing: kelce's!sister x hockey!rafe warnings: none, fluff, flirting, yearning
The party was supposed to be fun. Emphasis on supposed to be.
Your brother had dragged you along, promising it would be “chill,” throwing out all his usual excuses—“It’ll be fun, you never go out, and besides, you know everyone there”—but you should’ve known better.
Now you were stuck in a house full of drunk college students, loud music, and—worst of all—a guy who wouldn’t leave you alone.
He’d introduced himself as Jake—or maybe it was Jack; you didn’t care—and you’d been polite at first. A quick smile, a couple of sentences before excusing yourself. But he didn’t get the hint.
He was following you around like a lost puppy, trying to impress you with stories about his car and his “networking connections,” whatever the hell that meant.
“Oh, yeah,” Jake was saying now, his voice raised to compete with the music. “They’re starting me at, like, six figures. But, you know, I told them I’d think about it.”
You sipped your drink to keep from rolling your eyes. “Wow, that’s… something.”
“So, anyway,” he was saying as you edged toward the hallway, “if you ever want to, like, grab dinner or something, I know a great spot. And If you ever want to come down to Florida, I could totally show you around. Take you out on my boat.”
You nodded absently, scanning the room for an excuse, but your brother was nowhere in sight, and every doorway seemed blocked by a crowd.
“You and me? A weekend getaway?”
You froze, brainstorming for an excuse. “Oh, uh—”
Then you saw him in all his glory, Rafe Cameron.
He was leaning against the wall near the kitchen, a drink in one hand, his other casually tucked into his pocket. His messy blond hair looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of some ridiculous sports magazine. He looked completely at ease, this party—and everyone in it—existed solely for his entertainment.
You hated that he was your only option right now.
Rafe Cameron was your brother’s best friend since diapers, your public enemy number one on your worst days. Your stomach did that stupid little thingy it always seemed to do when you saw him, and you hated it.
You cut Jake or Jack off, raising your hand. “I need to go—uh—find my boyfriend.”
Jake blinked. “Your what?”
“My boyfriend,” you repeated, internally cringing at the word and already walking through the crowd toward Rafe. “He’s waiting for me.”
Ugh. You groaned internally. You don’t like Rafe. You don’t even think about Rafe.
“Cameron,” you said when you reached him, grabbing his sleeve. “Need your help.”
Rafe turned, his blue eyes looking down to where your hand gripped his arm. Then he looked back up at you, his lips curving, “Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”
“I’m serious.”
His smirk widened. “Even better. What’s going on, princess?”
You glared at him. “Some guy won’t leave me alone. He’s been following me around all night, and I need you to—”
“Who?”
You shook your head quickly, knowing that look in his eyes meant trouble and black eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘caveman throws a punch’ thing. I just need you to pretend to be my…” You paused, the word catching in your throat. “Pretend to be my…”
Rafe tilted his head, watching you squirm. “Your what?”
You shuddered at the thought. “My…boyfriend.”
His smirk was back in full Cameron force. “What was that?”
You crossed your arms in defiance, refusing to let him win this. “You heard me.”
“I heard you,” Rafe nodded, leaning closer, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Just didn’t think I’d live to see the day you called me your boyfriend.”
“Fake boyfriend,” you clarified through gritted teeth. “Don’t make this weird, Cameron.”
But it already was, because just standing this close to him made your heart pound in a way you refused to acknowledge.
“Always knew you had a thing for me, but this? You want me sooooo bad,” he drawled out, tongue kissing his teeth as he pinched your arm.
“Wipe that stupid smirk off your face before I do,” You shoved his touch away, “Help me.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he opened his mouth to say something dumb—but then Jake appeared at the end of the hallway, his face lighting up when he spotted you.
“There you are!” Jake called, heading straight for you.
“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing Rafe’s beefy arm again. “Just follow my lead.”
Jake stopped in front of you, giving Rafe a once-over. “Hey,” he said, clearly confused. “Who’s this?”
You swallowed, forcing yourself to say the word again. “This is my… uh, my boyfriend.”
The second it left your mouth, you wanted to crawl into a hole. It sounded so fake, so awkward—and Rafe wasn’t helping, because you could feel him staring at you with that stupid smug grin.
“Hey,” Rafe cut in smoothly, draping an arm over your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You lookin’ for my girl?”
Jake blinked, “Oh. I, uh—I didn’t realize—”
“Yeah,” Rafe patronized, “You wouldn’t.”
Then Jake's stupid eyes widened, “Wait… you’re Rafe Cameron.”
Rafe’s smirk grew impossibly smug. “That’s me.”
Jake’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit. Dude, you’re the Rafe Cameron. Hockey star. I watched your game against Michigan last month—you were insane.”
Rafe shrugged, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Appreciate it, man.”
You wanted to die, maybe strangle him.
Jake turned to you, his tone almost accusing. “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was Rafe Cameron.”
You laughed nervously, trying not to grimace. “Yeah, uh,… it’s not exactly my favorite topic.”
The second the words left your mouth, Rafe’s fingers pinched your waist—just enough to make you jolt—and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your hair.
“Careful, princess,” he murmured, “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.”
You clenched your fists at your sides, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Jake, oblivious to your little argument, kept gushing. “Seriously, man, you’re a beast. I don’t know how you pull off those plays—”
Jake was too busy gushing over Rafe, throwing out stats and plays like he’d memorized Rafe’s entire career. And Rafe, of course, was eating it up, nodding along like he wasn’t already aware of how good he was.
That’s when you felt it—Rafe’s fingers, toying with the hem of your top.
Your breath hitched, and you glanced up at him, but he was still focused on Jake, his face the picture of calm confidence.
“Yeah,” He was saying, his fingers moving tenderly against your skin. “That Michigan game was wild. You should’ve seen her, though.” He tilted his head toward you. “Biggest fan in the stands. Couldn’t take her eyes off me.”
Your jaw dropped. “Are you—”
“Yeah?” Jake said, interrupting you. “That’s awesome. Must be crazy, dating someone like him.”
You clenched your fists, your irritation bubbling over. “Oh, it’s insane.”
Rafe chuckled under his breath, his fingers teasing your side one last time before Jake finally walked away, muttering something about grabbing another drink.
The second he was out of earshot, you shoved Rafe’s arm off you and glared up at him. “You’re fucking insufferable.”
He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “Dial down the foreplay, you’re gonna make me hard.”
This motherfucker, oh my god.
You stared at him, your jaw nearly unhinged from the sheer nerve. “Are you—did you just—” You couldn’t finish the sentence, the words vanishing in your throat as your face warmed.
Rafe, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered, leaning against the wall like he hadn’t just said the most inappropriate thing imaginable. “What?” he drawled, his smirk practically glowing in the dim light. “You started it, calling me your boyfriend. I’m just playing the part.”
You took a step back, glaring at him like you could kill him with sheer willpower, “How does anyone ever put up with you, oh my god.”
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he quipped, his smile widening as he reached out to tug lightly on the hem of your sleeve.
You smacked his hand away. “If you keep this up, I’ll go back out there and tell Jake—or Jack, or whoever—that I was lying.”
“Please,” Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You're not gonna subject yourself to that human LinkedIn profile just to spite me.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could retort, a group of partygoers passed by, a couple of them glancing your way and whispering. One of them—a girl in a glittery crop top—stopped to wave at Rafe, her voice eager.
“Oh my god, Rafe! I didn’t know you were here!”
Rafe gave her a polite nod, his hand sliding back to your waist, his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make your stomach go stupid.
“Yeah,” he said, his tone easy. “Just hanging out with my girl.”
Your head snapped up, your eyes wide with disbelief, “Dude.”
What the fuck is wrong with you?! you wanted to scream, but the girl was already nodding, her smile faltering as she glanced at you.
“Right. Cool. Um, see you around, I guess,” she said before walking off with her friends.
The second she was gone, you shoved Rafe’s hand off you again. “You’re having way too much fun with this shit.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, face softening into something that almost—almost—resembled genuine amusement. “This is the most fun I’ve had at one of these parties in weeks.”
“Glad I could provide you with some entertainment,” you said dryly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, princess,” he said, his voice dipping slightly as his eyes met yours. “You’re the highlight of my night.”
You forced yourself to scoff pretending his sweet nothing’s didn’t hit home.
“I know you, I’m not falling for your little hockey player charm offensive.”
“Who says it’s an offensive?” he asked, tilting his head. “Maybe it’s just a… friendly check.”
“Friendly?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “You don’t do friendly.”
He shrugged, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a way that felt entirely too deliberate. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”
“Why the fuck is everyone saying my sister is dating my best friend?! Hello??”
Your entire body went rigid as Kelce bulldozed through the crowd, looking thoroughly scandalized. He stopped dead in front of you, his eyes darting between you and Rafe with full-on soap opera disbelief.
Rafe, the insufferable fucking bastard, didn’t even try to keep it together—he straight-up bent over laughing, one hand braced on his knee, the other holding his drink like it was sacred.
“Oh, shit,” he wheezed, grinning wide enough to blind someone. “This just keeps getting better.”
You wanted to drop dead right there in the beer-sticky hallway.
Kelce blinked at you, bewildered. “What. The. Actual. Hell?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” you snapped, glaring at Rafe as he tried (and failed) to recover, his chest still shaking with laughter.
“Yeah?” Kelce shot back, jabbing a thumb toward the swarm of gossiping partiers. “Because everyone’s saying it looks like you two are a thing.”
“We are not a thing,” you hissed, making a couple of people nearby glance over. “He was just helping me ditch some guy who wouldn’t take a hint.”
Rafe, still grinning like a jackass, finally straightened up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice was warm, low, “Your sister couldn’t resist me.”
You whipped around, shoving his chest hard enough that he stumbled back a step, laughing like this was the most fun he’d had in years. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”
Kelce’s jaw practically unhinged. “Wait. Are you actually into her?”
Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Depends—am I allowed to?”
Your eyes narrowed to murderous slits. “I will put you in the ground, Cameron.”
Rafe’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, sending a traitorous shiver down your spine. “God, you’re mean,” he drawled, clearly enjoying himself. “Kinda hot, though.”
Kelce gagged dramatically. “Nope. Nope. I’m out. Y’all are sick.”
“Glad we agree,” you muttered as Kelce stormed off, throwing his hands up like you were a lost cause.
The second he was gone, you turned on Rafe, stabbing a finger into his chest. “This is your fault.”
“My fault?” he echoed, grinning like he’d just been handed front-row seats to your breakdown. “You’re the one who called me your boyfriend, princess.”
You scowled. “Yeah, clearly that was a mistake.”
Rafe’s eyes gleamed, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse hitch. “Nah. Best decision you’ve made all night.”
You flipped him off. “I’m fake-dumping your ass immediately.”
Rafe had that look on his face—the one that made you want to throw something at him. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned casually against the wall, all cocky confidence and oh-aren’t-I-just-so-fucking-charming energy.
“You know,” he started, dragging the words out like he was savoring them, “this kinda reminds me of when you had that crush on me when we were, what, twelve?”
Your head snapped toward him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He grinned wider, eyes gleaming with delight. “You used to follow me around like a lovesick puppy at Kelce’s games. Always sitting in the front row, twirling your hair like you were in some rom-com.”
You made a noise halfway between a scoff and a snarl. “Excuse me? I did not have a crush on you.”
“Yeah? So you weren’t the one who told Kelce I had ‘pretty eyes’?”
He did, in fact, have pretty eyes, so what....
Your face went up in flames. “That was a joke.”
“Sure it was,” he teased, leaning in just enough to make you want to run for the hills. “You totally didn’t write my name in your notebook, either, right?”
Your jaw dropped. “How do you even know about that?!”
“Kelce found it last month and showed me,” Rafe said, completely unapologetic. “Heart doodles and everything. Thought you were writing love songs for me or something.”
“I hate you,” you growled, your face now hotter than the sun.
“You loved me,” he quipped, biting back a laugh. “Or at least your little self did. Cute.”
“I’m going to strangle Kelce.”
Rafe smirked, brushing a nonexistent speck of dust off his sleeve. “Too late to deny it now, princess. I’m your first love, and you just fake-dated me tonight. Full circle.”
“You are so full of shit.”
“Yeah,” he drawled, eyes dancing, “but you’re still blushing.”
“I will kick you in the balls, Cameron.”
“Careful,” he warned, “You’re gonna fall for me all over again.”
#itneverendshere works✨#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron blurb#brother!bsf!rafe#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron imagines#rafe x kelce's!sister#hockey au#hockey!rafe#fluff#yearning
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Drunk in love — LN4
~ believe when i say that you’ll know once you taste it
• part 1
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: the night where you and lando just wanted to forget about each other but ended up getting closer than ever
genre: smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers
warnings: curse words, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex, breeding kink
notes: english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry ig there’s any mistakes. i might have gotten a little excited with the lenght of this fic, part 2 will be shorter
The music plays loudly within the walls of your room as you and your best friend get ready for the night. After hours and hours of trying to convince you, Olivia had finally made it, not that you weren't a party girl, in fact you adored it, the feeling of being drunk, the people, the dancing, the music, flirting with strangers, you used to spend the whole week looking forward to go to your favorite club but for months now all those good times have lost all meaning when all you can see is your best friend going from girl to girl every weekend without any type of remorse. And for months you’ve been trying to do the same thing to stop thinking about him, only achieving the opposite.
You can’t blame those girls, in fact, you understand them perfectly, not just because Lando is rich and famous, that's the least important thing really, but in any crowd he's always the first man you see, he's handsome, attractive, even magnetic, the kind of man no girl would ever say no to, and you were painfully aware of that, because of course, you were one of those girls who could never say no to him.
That's what bothers you the most, because no matter how many dates you go on, how many strangers you flirt or sleep with, how much time you go without seeing him or speaking to him, you always notice how they are not him, how they don't have his laugh, his eyes, his charisma, his charm, his way of hugging you, his way of making you forget everything and everyone, no matter how good they are in bed, none of them can make you feel the warmth that you feel when he simply holds your hand or rests his hand on your waist to help you walk through a room full of people, and it's already getting tiring to hope that at some point that's going to change.
While you finish applying the sluttiest red lipstick you have, and check that you are not missing anything in your purse, you look at your outfit in the mirror, a little black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, actually, if you are not careful you can flash anyone at any moment, you feel attractive, you know you look pretty, but you also know that neither this dress, nor the makeup you spent so much time on, nor your perfect hair will be enough for Lando to look at you the way you want.
Olivia seems to notice the sad expression on your face, "y/n don't make that face, if Lando is stupid enough to not make a move on you then he doesn't deserve you to spend another second thinking about him" she says handing me a shot of vodka that I swallow without hesitation
“Do you think I'm in love with him because I want to, Olivia? If it was up to me I would only see him as the friend he sees in me, that's what he wants, but it seems I can't.”
“if you want to believe that he sees you only as a friend then go on, i think he’s just a pussy” Olivia shouts from the door as I grab my keys and follow her.
-
Lando stared at his glass of whiskey, lost in thought, looking at the time on his watch from time to time thinking about when you would arrive, he was dying to see you, he didn't know if he was imagining it but he had this feeling that you’d been avoiding him all week, you didn't answer his messages, and if he called you, you quickly ended the conversation saying that you were busy, you had always been very bad at lying, who can be busy on a Saturday morning? He knew that his doubts would be solved at any moment and oh how he wished it was just his head fucking with him.
In the distance he saw a girl who he could have sworn was you, but after looking at her for a few seconds he slapped himself internally for having mistaken you for someone else, how could you be that girl? She doesn't have your grace, nor the light that seems to follow you everywhere making you look untouchable, the people around her don't turn around automatically and he doesn't feel that comfort in his heart when looking at her, but what's the point anyway? None of them make him feel anything like that, none of them are like you and he knows it.
He knows that you are the girl for him, he has known it since he won his first race and as soon as he crossed the finish line the first thing he thought was if you would be proud of him. He knows that he will probably love you all his life and that without you his destiny is to wait for someone to entertain him enough to not think about you all the time. He knows how sad that is and he's not sure if he can continue like this for much more, but he can't condemn you to what a relationship with him means, he barely has time for himself and how could he try to have a relationship with you if he can't give you all the time you deserve? How can he try to be with you if it means you have to be moving from one side of the world to the other all the time or not see him as often as he would like?
If everything was different he would have jumped right into your arms months ago, but you deserve much more than what he can give you.
Max's voice brings him out of his thoughts telling him something painfully true "so you’re already looking for a girl who looks like Y/N to spend the night?" How much more time can he spend trying to find you in another person? probably a lot less than he thinks.
-
He was hypnotized, watching you dance with your friends, running your hands over your body, laughing and looking so sexy, since you arrived he couldn't stop looking at you, a feeling between how bothered he was by that sinful dress that hugged your body in all the right places and the concern for the cold greeting he had received, he was gripping his glass tightly and using all his will not to grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he wanted to ask you the reason behind your actions, how were you able to stay away from him, when it felt impossible for him to do that.
It was then that he saw him, tall, with a bright smile, just the type of boy you've always liked, he approached you and spoke to you so carefree, calm, without the all the nerves Lando felt every time he had to get too close to you. He doesn't know what the boy said to you that made your laugh echo throughout all the VIP area but he was sure as hell it couldn't be that funny, how could your eyes shine like that looking at someone that two seconds ago you didn't know existed? how could you look at a stranger the way Lando had always wanted for you to look at him? oh how oblivious he was
As soon as he tried to get up to stop the situation, he felt the hand of the same girl he had seen earlier on his shoulder and as some type of divine signal it was then that he came to his senses. If he really loved you, he should let you live your own life.
Back to where you were, the nameless boy grinded against you while grabbing your hip and the two of you danced to the rhythm of the music, he was cute, sure, he was nice and funny, but in your drunken state your head seemed to betray you making you think about Lando over and over again, each song seemed to be talking about him, about you, about the two of you, and just when you were trying to get away from the boy it occurred to you to look at him, At this point you should be used to it, glass in hand, a girl on his lap, kissing so passionately it made you want to cry.
You were fucking sick of it, sick of the looks of pity from all your friends, of not being able to get mad at the girl, or Lando, you could only be mad at yourself for having these stupid feelings and not being able to settle for his friendship that at the end of the day was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you really don't know how or when but you were glued to a wall kissing the guy, he was grabbing your ass tightly and biting your lip while you were pulling his hair trying to understand the situation you found yourself in, with far too many drinks on you, the jealousy, shame and unreciprocated feelings you felt for your best friend, you decided to lose yourself in the touch of the boy you had just met.
When the girl moved away from him to take a breath he saw you, your hair messy, your dress rolled up and that son of a bitch's hands grabbing you just like he would like to do, he didn't even have the decency to take you somewhere more private, but again, who was he to get involved in what you were doing if he knew that he couldn't give you what you deserved anyway, so he grabbed the girl's face and continued kissing her, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, the weight of the girl on his lap made him wish it was you, Lando wanted you to grab his hair just like you did with the boy you were kissing, he knew he could make you feel much better than him, he would take you somewhere empty because only he should be the only one to see you this way, he would grab you by the waist and pull you against him, he would kiss you with so much feelings that you wouldn't doubt his love for you, the erection that grew underneath his pants made him imagine how good you would feel rubbing yourself on him and he was sure it would feel like heaven listening to you moaning his name when he went down to kiss your neck.
“fuck, y/n just like that, baby” he didn't expect that it was going to be your name the one that escaped his lips.
The look of confusion and shock from the girl who was sitting on his lap brought him back to reality, and he doesn't know if he was suddenly sober or if all the alcohol that was in his system hit him at once but his body, his mind and all his senses told him to look for y/n, so apologizing to the girl and getting her off of him, he began to look for his love.
He looked around but there was no sign of her, her friends were still dancing in the same place but she and the boy he had seen her with earlier had disappeared, he asked Max but he told him that he had lost sight of them ago. For a while, when he saw Olivia, he realized that if anyone could help him, it was her.
he got into the crowd of dancing girls trying to get her friend's attention, "Olivia, hey, where did y/n go?" He said when the girl finally saw him
"Lando, I think you should leave her alone, she's busy" your friend knew that today you just needed to forget about him.
"Did she leave with him? Just tell me if she's still here, please" Lando was desperate, he feared that if he didn't find you now he would never have the courage to confess his feelings to you again
Olivia finally gave up "she just told me she was going to his house, I don't think they're gone yet" she took a deep breath and added "she's trying to forget you, I know deep down you know that, don't do anything if you know you're gonna hurt her, Lando."
"Thank you, i promise i will not" he said before running to the club’s door
You don't know why you agreed to this, but you found yourself walking towards the car of the boy you just met today, do you really want this? you don't know, in your head you just think that maybe this is it, maybe he can make you forget about Lando, in fact, you should be happy, he is cute, hot, funny, attentive and respectful, why aren't you happy? And why do you feel so relieved when you feel a hand on your shoulder stopping you?
"y/n, please don't go with him" you turn around when you hear the familiar voice and you feel your stomach do a thousand flips when you see the person you've been thinking about all night.
You pause to look at him before speaking, he looks agitated, in a hurry even, as if he was going to run out of time, but even in that state he is the most attractive man you have ever seen, some buttons on his shirt are undone showing his chest, as if the slightly see-through fabric wasn't enough, his tanned skin glowing under the night lights and you don't understand why he has to come out of nowhere now to ruin anyone else for you.
"Lando, is everything okay?" Your voice denotes concern and Lando just wants to have you in his arms.
"lov- sorry, y/n" he corrected himself "don't go with him, I need to talk to you, please, I need you to give me a chance"
"what are you talking about?" Your words came out like a whisper, you had to be misunderstanding him, or not?
"Sorry mate, this isn't your fault, but I love her, she's the love of my life, I can't let her go."
Suddenly you remembered the boy who was there with you, you looked over your shoulder, you only saw confusion in his gaze and you felt sorry for how he had ended up in this situation just because of bad luck, you shared a look and the boy understood that he had to leave.
"Lando, if this is some kind of joke or you're just doing it because that girl rejected you, I want you to know that it's not funny."
Lando felt a pang of pain in his chest, what had he been doing wrong all this time for you to believe him capable of playing with you like that?
"this isn’t a joke, y/n, I'm tired of pretending that I don't just love you, baby." he said taking a few steps until he was right in front of you "I don't know what I did for you to not want to see me or talk to me, but let me fix it, even if you don't feel the same way, I need you to treat me like before, I miss you love"
"I was just trying to forget you, Lando" the tears began to fall down your face and you didn't know if you felt shame, joy, anger or relief, if he felt the same, why had he made you see him with all those girls before? Why hadn't he spoken sooner? Why hadn't you spoken sooner?
you felt his lips on yours, and for the second time that night you were kissing someone, but this time everything made sense, you could only think about lando, you were right where you wanted to be, you were aware of his touch in every place where his body made contact with yours and time seemed to have stopped, you were addicted to the feeling of finally having him all to yourself and you didn't want to stop even to take a breath or move to another place.
He felt the same way and with all his strength he moved away just enough to mumble "let's get out of here."
-
The car ride to your house felt like a fever dream, you wanted to talk to each other but you had so many ideas in your head that you didn't know what to say first, you wanted to touch each other but you didn't want to spend another minute without being in a place just for the you two, so all you did was share looks of love and happy giggles
You two were finally home and it seemed like you were glued to each other, the heat in the room was becoming more and more unbearable as you kissed, grabbed and caressed each other, thanks to muscle memory you managed to get to your room and Lando just pushed you to the bed before climbing into it straddling you
"So pretty, baby, I can't believe I finally have you" he said kissing your neck and lifting your dress asking permission to take it off.
You nodded silently and Lando wasted no time in removing the garment that covered your body. He began to run kisses and licks over your shoulders, collarbones, arms and stomach until he left you desperate and trembling beneath him. You knew he was enjoying it but you had waited so long for this that you couldn't stand him not touching you right where you wanted, losing your patience you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.
“nuh huh, that's my job, precious, let me enjoy you just the way I want” He said kissing, sucking and biting your neck, his words sending shivers to the wet areas of your skin.
"Lando, please, you're going to have plenty of time to enjoy me in every way you want, just fuck me already, I can't wait." As you spoke you couldn't help but arch your back when lando gently bit your collarbone making a moan escape your mouth.
you heard him laugh cockily "plenty of time? does that mean we're going on a second date?" and just when you thought about slapping him for his bad joke you felt him cup your pussy relieving half of the tension you felt.
He lived to please you and if you wanted to get to the point that's what he would do, he quickly got rid of your bra attacking one of your nipples with his tongue, circling the muscle over it before taking it all in his mouth, moaning softly into it, after a while he moved to your other nipple, repeating his actions, but paying attention to the previous one with his big, rough, veiny hands, you were a moaning mess, and every once in a while you had to remind yourself that this was really happening and it wasn't a product of your imagination.
"mmh Lando that feels so good, please don't stop" you said trying to reach his member to touch it over his clothes, but you instantly felt him pin your arms over your head
"not yet, y/n tonight is all about you, let me make you feel good" he said moving down to your hips leaving kisses right on the waistline of your panties
He stopped to look at the lace panties you were wearing, black and all see-through, they were sexy but at the same time elegant and Lando felt like he would faint right there.
"these are so pretty, it's a shame i have to take them off," he said, taking your underwear on each side and removing it in one go.
It was at that moment that he saw you naked for the first time, you looked so hot but also innocent, the look of desire and at the same time love in your eyes could not be compared to anything that Lando had seen before, and he couldn't believe he had been missing on this for so long.
He ran a hand over your wet center and hissed at the sensation.
"baby, please do something, I'm going crazy" you begged, pushing your hips against his hand, trying to get more friction.
"well, since you're in such a hurry, god, we have to work on your patience, love." Without warning, Lando put a finger inside your hole and at the same time went down to lick your clit, while leaving his finger still inside you, he licked your bundle of nerves from side to side, up and down and circling his tongue against you, the euphoria you felt at that moment didn’t allow you to speak, the only thing that came out of your mouth were desperate breaths and moans of his name repeatedly. Every time you dared to look between your legs and saw your friend's piercing eyes you felt yourself embarrassingly quick getting closer to the edge.
"Lando, I need more, please, I want to cum."
so you felt a second finger inside you, he began to move them at a soft and strong pace, curving them inside you in the most delicious way, it didn't take long for you to finish all over his mouth and fingers, with a scream of his name and pulling him against you by his hair, he continued sucking your clit until you pushed his head due to overstimulation.
“You taste so good, my love, please let me do it again” he said kissing your inner thighs trying to open your legs again.
"another time, babe, I want you to fuck me, I need to feel you" you said pulling him from his shirt, you were feeling a little self conscious as you noticed how he was fully dressed and you were naked in front of him, so you unbuttoned his pants begging him to take them off, he, always willing to please you, pulled them down at the same time with his boxers, letting his dick come out freely in front of your face.
None of all the dirty nights you spent thinking about him could prepare you for what was in front of your eyes, his member, the perfect length, thick and veiny, with his tip all wet, seemed to beg you to put it in your mouth.
And that’s what you did, kneeling on the bed in front of him, licking the tip vaguely and without wasting much time you started sucking on it. Lando grabbed your hair in a ponytail and allowed himself to enjoy the heat of your mouth.
You wanted to make him feel good, it was the only thing you could think at that moment, and when you looked up and saw his face contorted with pleasure, his head thrown back and tasted his salty precum you could only moan in satisfaction, the entire moment made you so wet again and your hole clenched around nothing.
Against all his desire and will, Lando removed his dick from your mouth, it felt so good, but he needed to fuck you, he needed to feel your wet walls around him, so once again he pushed you on the bed and put your legs on his shoulders.
"Are you ready?" The question felt like a joke, you had been ready for months.
"yes, so ready, please fuck me"
You felt his member press against your pussy and the wetness made it so easy for him to slide in all at once.
Both of you moaned in unison as you felt that you were finally where you belong, Lando stayed still for a moment to let you get used to the size and to take a breathe so he wouldn’t cum on the spot.
When he saw your desperate face and felt how you pushed your hips against him, Lando began to fuck you without mercy, hand on your neck choking you just the way you like it, grunts and moans escaping from his mouth, turning you on more and more.
"baby, please, I'm so close, you fuck me so so good, I love your dick so much, please" you didn't know what you were saying, you just knew that you didn't want anyone but him.
Lando couldn't help but laugh at your state, but he wasn't much better than you, feeling his orgasm getting closer, he removed his hand from your neck and began to draw circles on your clit, his thrusts were erratic and the trembling in his legs let you know that he wasn't going to last much longer.
"land-o, baby, cum inside, I need you to fill me" and with those simple words the two of you climaxed at the same time, white dots filled your vision and you could swear it was the longest orgasm you’ve ever had, when you came back to your senses, your friend removed his member from your hole and turned your positions so that you were on top of him.
"We should clean up" you said, ignoring your tiredness, trying to be responsible.
"Let's stay like this for a while, I need to hug you, hold you close" despite his tired tone you could hear him talking to you with a smile.
A few minutes passed and just when Lando was about to fall asleep, your words brought him out of his state.
"You know we'll have to talk about this tomorrow, right?"
And just like that, he remembered each and every reason why he hadn't done this before.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris scenarios#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 fic#f1 imagine
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There are two things I've been pointing out a lot lately.
The first is that yes, things are bad and Trump's term is four years, but midterm elections are in two. If Trump gets saddled with an unfriendly congress, which I'm pretty confident he will, considering he's blaming airplane crashes on DEI and putting every government worker's job in limbo, his life is going to become a lot harder. So yeah, we have to survive four years of this fascist chucklefuck assuming he doesn't choke in a Big Mac somewhere in there, but in two years, we have a good chance to kneecap his ass and maybe even impeach him and make it stick this time.
The second is that he's an idiot. Many of his executive orders display little understanding of the actual systems he's working with or the issues he's trying to legislate, and executive orders legally cannot override acts of congress, SCOTUS decisions, or the Constitution. If he tries, they'll get slammed into court. Many of the things he's tried to legislate come from one of those places and therefore cannot be decided via executive order. So that means they'll get stuck in court and then Trump will have to waste his time litigating them rather than trying to implement them.
So yeah. It's gonna get worse before it gets better, but it's not gonna be as bad as it looks. It's gonna suck, don't get me wrong, but our fascists are stupid, easily enraged, easy to trick, and don't know what they're doing. Trump himself is even less coherent this time than the first time and has no clear successor whom voters like nearly as much. Every single one who seems like they could be one has been rejected by voters. I've long believed that the American right is doomed to have some kind of reckoning when Trump goes away, and one way or another, that won't be long. He will do a lot of damage. I'm particularly worried about RFK Jr. in the HHS department. But that damage can and will be reduced and this isn't forever.
Donald Trump wants you overwhelmed. He wants you scared and panicking. Being overwhelmed and panicking stops you from stopping him. He wants learned helplessness. He doesn't actually care about all this shit, he's just a vain old man who likes it when people pay attention to him and cheer his name. The antidote to fear is knowledge, and I've seen so many people who are doing so much work to make Trump's bullshit harder who actually do understand these systems and can navigate them much more effectively.
All is not lost. Love your people. Do what you can to help and protect them.
And don't disappear. Someday this sadness will end. I want as many of us to be there as possible when it does.
Food for thought
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Preview for Pour it Up - part two! -(Dropping tomorrow night!)
Stripclub Sukuna x Stripper reader- MDNI- teasing/mentions of sex, Sukuna being down BAD
“You look upset. Who do I need to kill?” You almost laugh, but he raises a brow, god how are this man’s eyebrows attractive!? You sigh then, stepping closer, naked aside from your panties, and you feel his eyes dart to your bare breasts.
“I’m much happier now.” You murmur, he sighs then, a big hand on your waist, taking you over, thumb slipping against the swell of your lower breast.
“Yeah, why?” He mutters, so gruffly, already throbbing hard under his slacks, as he thinks of everything he wants to do.
“Because you’re touching me.” Your vulnerability almost breaks him then, his lips parted in shock, he squeezes tighter, leaning down and cupping your face.
“Did you get the money for your sitter?” He murmurs, and you nod shyly.
“It was too much, but I’m sure she appreciates it.” Your hand comes to grip his strong wrist, heart beating erratically in your chest now.
“And did you eat?”
“Not yet.” You giggle, softly, he sighs then, lips a breath away.
“I’m not fucking kidding, you’ll need the energy.” His words and his tone make your mind wander, just how would it be, to have Sukuna inside you?
“Oh yeah?”
He smirks before chuckling, throwing his head back. “You’re cute, brat, oh yeah.”
“Hey!” You sigh now, stepping back as he eyes your breasts, and you pop your little tassels out of your bag, eyeing him then, watching him drink the sight in. “Wanna help?”
“Shit.” You kill him. Sukuna takes them and presses them, as the little sticky adhesive suctions on, but he’s cupping your breasts in huge hands, as one of the girls, Candy walks in, pausing. “What do you want?” His voice is so terse, it’s just nothing like the man that just asked if you got the hundreds he sent for a sitter and your lunch.
“Um… Mr. Sukuna… could you help me with mine?” She asks then, yanking her tassels off, bare breasted. She makes you tense a bit.
Naoya had cheated over and over, but you and Sukuna were nothing yet, shit you’d just sucked him in his office so far, that’s it. And maybe a hook up tonight? So you can’t be upset if he wishes to, you just look away nervously, leaning forward in the mirror to adjust your makeup and pulling away as he eyes her, so clearly irritated by her presence.
“Ask Toji or something.” He grumbles, before turning you back to him, your eyes glimmer then, with some moisture, making him stutter. “What’s wrong now, shit?”
“No, it’s… your…” You hug him then, making him freeze, as your pretty little body is against him, your breasts so soft on him, he wants to tear you apart, put you back together, make you his. His hands stall though, unsure as you look up at him with tears down your pretty cheeks.
Candy leaves as Sukuna’s mouth opens and shuts. “Brat, what is it?”
“You m-make me feel really… um… it’s stupid…”
“Out with it.”
“Sexy? Pretty? Wanted?” He blinks in confusion then, how could you ever not be, especially with the amount of attention you get here? “I’m not used to this.”
“You know you’re pretty, just… shut up, stop that shit.” He’s swiping at your eyes though, as you elicit emotions that make him insane. “Why’d you feel like you’re not, that brain fried from your kid or something!?”
“No… I just… shitty past.” He sees it then, you’re so hurt from something, and anyone who ever made you feel that way!?
Sukuna would take him the fuck out.
“Whoever says you’re not is trying to fuck with you, fuck your head up, so ignore that shit.” He says softly almost, still a little gruff, cupping your face then. “I have excellent taste, trust mine hmm?”
“Yeah.” Your lip trembles, and Sukuna can’t stop the word from spilling from his lips then.
“Beautiful.”
“I… huh?”
“Shut it.” He kisses you then, and you’re falling against him, pressed on the counter where he can see your back and ass in the mirror, tempting him just as much as your pretty breasts, he moans as he steps between your thighs.
“Did you say beautiful?”
“Shush it, fuck you’re annoying hmm?” You just giggle a bit, and the action does something odd to his heart, god you do something to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Sukuna.”
“Just Sukuna, shit.” He kisses you again before taking a breath, eyeing your body up and down slowly. “Wanna sit on my lap during this meeting? You may… have to have some coke on your body.”
“On me!?”
hehe coming soon
Permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @n1vi @aldebrana @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @1brii @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy
#sukuna x reader#strip club owner sukuna#sukuna x female reader#sukuna smut#sukuna fluff#divider by cafekitsune#story preview
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I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?
My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷
Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.
It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.
You had returned empty-handed.
"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.
"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"
"Yeah."
He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.
In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.
"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.
"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.
"Are you alright?"
"Sure."
You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.
"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.
"Bad day."
"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"
You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."
Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.
"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."
"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"
"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.
His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."
"Why are you attracted to me?"
Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"
"Why me over some model or something?"
He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"
"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."
There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.
"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."
You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.
"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."
You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.
"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."
"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.
"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."
You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.
"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"
You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."
Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"
"But I love you!"
"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"
"Mhm," you nodded.
"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."
The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.
"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."
"Quinn~"
"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."
"You make me smile."
He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."
You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."
#💌maven's love notes#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic
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ᅠ ✿ ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING ──── ᅠ ( han taesan )
𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.
ᅠ 한태�� ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names several ocs ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net
ᅠ >︿ please leave feedbacks & reblog
“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”
As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind.
It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.
You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.
You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it.
After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer.
“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”
He simply nodded. “Sure.”
You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence.
In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect.
“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name.
Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.
Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”
The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?
“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”
Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”
You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you.
“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters.
Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”
“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than–
“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”
You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up.
“Okay.”
Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers.
“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”
The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air.
Why is my plan backfiring on me?
“What? No–”
Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”
You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”
“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”
You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations.
Plus, he’s not entirely wrong.
Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again.
“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks.
You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into.
You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating.
“Deal.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky.
You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess.
“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort.
Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared.
You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”
Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”
You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle.
Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible.
You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”
Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”
Oh. It’s part of his terms.
You glare at him.
Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”
You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck.
“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so.
Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”
You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny?
The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours.
A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?
“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”
“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”
“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you.
It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.
Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side.
You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute.
Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend.
A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say.
Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day.
The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.
“What’s up with Han?” he asked.
You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits?
“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks.
“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”
You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if.
“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders.
You said that last time, too.
“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance.
The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed.
Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone.
“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums.
You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”
Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”
“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”
“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”
You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake.
The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?
“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”
You fought back a grin. Finally.
“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”
Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”
Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath.
Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”
Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile.
“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall.
You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted.
You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“ARE you and Taesan dating?”
Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose.
“What?”
“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”
“It’s not like–”
“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”
Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!”
Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”
You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it.
“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”
Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns.
“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.
Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”
You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”
“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.”
“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks.
“To what?”
“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”
Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well?
“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”
You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them.
It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour.
Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.
Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.
You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down.
“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”
Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes.
“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”
“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.
“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line.
“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”
“What? Like it’s hard?”
Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet.
“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear.
“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly.
“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”
“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.
He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team.
At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.
Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.
You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you.
Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy.
Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does.
You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here.
Jersey number 35.
The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.
The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan.
You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates.
And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena.
It makes you feel odd.
Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores.
You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too.
He must be.
Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him.
Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.
The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd.
When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him.
But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you.
You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys.
You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head.
And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug.
Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion.
Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”
Darling.
You gulp.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles.
“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”
You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before.
A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”
“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”
He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”
You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”
Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”
You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you.
You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.
“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge.
“Is it true?” he asks.
You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”
“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”
Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead.
Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public.
“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”
“Do you love him?”
You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”
“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”
His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.
“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”
Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.
“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."
Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is.
“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”
Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.
For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option.
“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him.
“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up.
“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.
“Instincts.”
You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”
The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them.
“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble.
Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you.
Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever.
“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away.
Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”
“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away.
Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”
Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face.
Oh.
“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad.
Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you.
Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you.
“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.
You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused.
“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.
“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him.
“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture.
“No.” You give him a side glance.
“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”
“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”
“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”
You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck.
“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?”
Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his.
Your eyes widen.
I did not just admit that.
You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus.
After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out.
“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone.
You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”
“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”
Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.
“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”
You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression.
Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”
“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”
“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”
“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”
Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes.
A thought clicks into your head.
Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.
You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement.
It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together.
“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.
As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated.
“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”
You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.
“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.
Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”
You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.
“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.
You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground.
It feels too… real.
A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.
“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.
When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into your hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.
“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”
You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”
Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.
Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down.
No wonder Y/N likes this place.
Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam.
“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.
“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk.
Your eyes widen and he chuckles.
“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”
“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time.
Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him.
You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him.
Dongmin does hate you, too.
He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity.
Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all.
Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly.
For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.
You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.
He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”
You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend.
He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart.
His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark.
You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”
Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”
You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”
Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”
Oh.
You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.
Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”
You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”
“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head.
You pause, blinking profusely.
That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?
Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.
After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”
You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual.
Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”
Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”
Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on.
Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.
You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”
You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.
Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.
Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”
His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork.
That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you.
You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”
You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.
Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.
And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.
Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis.
Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.
“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?”
His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.
Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment.
At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.
Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever.
You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to.
“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.
“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time.
Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.
You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.
You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.
Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?
He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated.
As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away?
Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him.
Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations.
The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours.
Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.
You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk.
The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits.
“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.
You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”
Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”
Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch.
You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”
Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist.
It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.
Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers.
“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade.
Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”
Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton.
“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”
Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away.
You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.
“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”
Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”
You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”
Silence.
Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–”
He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth.
You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”
Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years.
And then, it just… slips out.
“I just can’t stand it, okay?”
Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”
Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”
His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say.
“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”
Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.
He can’t say it.
Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath.
“You know what?”
“Taesan–”
“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”
Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face.
His concern is real.
“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building.
Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?
However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too.
The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one.
By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit.
“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze.
His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”
Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too.
You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his.
“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”
Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights.
You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you.
“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”
He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages.
You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee.
Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.
He’s always been the one. He’s always been there.
It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done.
Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you.
All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you.
It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall.
You like him.
You like Han Taesan.
You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is.
“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?”
You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.
“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended.
Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”
“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”
“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”
“Say it, then.”
You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line.
“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”
The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank.
Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour.
You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do?
“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering.
You smile. “Me too,” you say softly.
Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move.
Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do.
You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you.
“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.
“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”
You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,
“No!”
“Yes.”
You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile.
“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically.
“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown.
“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”
The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.
Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around.
“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”
Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”
Dongmin.
The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off.
I love you.
Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face.
She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile.
“Say that again.”
You frown. “What again?”
“The first part.”
“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”
“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”
You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek.
“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach.
˚ ▒ ₊ㅤ Ⳋ᧙ ⁺
THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long.
Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes.
“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”
Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it.
“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.
Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”
Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you.
“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”
An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”
His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”
Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?”
“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate.
“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”
You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”
“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”
“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.
“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”
“Why?” you ask croakily.
“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”
You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red.
Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”
Oh.
You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you.
“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”
“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile.
“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”
“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”
Babe, huh?
You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”
“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”
“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”
“My wish, huh?”
The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.
“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”
Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair.
“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”
“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today.
Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods.
You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore.
“Wish granted.”
― © htaesan, 2025.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
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i’m obsessed with your declan fics! can we get one where the reader has to calm him down? it would be even more fun if they were mad/annoyed at each other but he can’t help but seek her out when he needs comfort 👀
Paradoxical.
you currently can’t stand the sight of each other. and yet, in this moment… yours is the only face he wants to see.
declan o’hara x female reader (nickname - lucky.)
warnings - smut. cursing. angst. unspecified age gap. yeeeeeearning.
word count - 4.6k
authors note - she’s back 💋. loooved this request, so thank you so much to whoever sent it!! i’m still on my rivals shit, so please join me in this never ending journey. never getting over this man <3
masterlist. inbox.
“How are you doing?”
You snuggle further into the pillows on the bed, popping another strawberry in your mouth to avoid the question.
“Lucky.”
“Hmm?”
“I asked how you are.”
“M’fine,” you answer as you chew, praying the subject gets changed. She clearly doesn’t believe you, so you sigh and look at her pointedly. “I’m being serious. I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“Taggie.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“What? No! I’d never think that.”
“Then why are you treating me like I’m oblivious? I can see that you’re not fine, but you keep lying to my face.”
Taking a deep breath, you exhale in resignation.
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re caught in the middle of all of this, Tag.”
“I’m not-”
“You are. He’s your dad, I’m your friend. You are quite literally the middle man here.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she counters, perching on the edge of her bed. “If I have to be the peacekeeper, I will be.”
“You shouldn’t have to be.”
“I know, but these things happen. I just… if I knew what had happened, I could try and fix it.”
“You can’t fix this, Tag. I promise you, you can’t.”
She’s quiet for a moment, tracing the patterns on your socks as she thinks.
“What happened, Lucky? I swear that whatever it is, I won’t judge you. I just want to know how it all went so… wrong. One minute the two of you were the best of friends, and the next minute you’re packing up your office and leaving without so much as an explanation.”
“It’s complicated,” you murmur.
“So complicated that you had to quit your job?”
“Yes.”
“He’s never going to find a better assistant than you, you know. Never. He doesn’t even want to look for one, says he’d rather do all the work himself.”
“Well that’s stupid of him. He can’t do all that stuff himself.”
“Exactly. He’s willing to put himself through all of that stress so as not to replace you.”
“That’s his foolish choice, Tag.”
She sighs in frustration, leaning back against the footboard of the bed.
“Did he upset you? Did he say something stupid? You know what he’s like, he often doesn’t think before he speaks. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation here.”
“It wasn’t him, it was me. I quit by my own volition. He didn’t upset me, he didn’t offend me… I just had to do the right thing, which was to leave. I know you’re trying to help, Tag, but you can’t. Not with this.”
Taggie finally realises that she’s fighting a losing battle, choosing instead to shuffle over so she’s all cosy in the pillows next to you.
“I won’t tell him you were here,” she whispers, bumping your shoulder with hers.
“Thank you. I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle of all of this.”
“I don’t mind, honestly. I just wish there was something I could do.”
“Give it some time. It’s meant to heal all wounds, after all.”
She chuckles, resting her head against yours affectionately.
“Will you help me make some raspberry tarts? I need at least forty of them, and I could do with an extra pair of hands.”
“Of course I will. But if your dad comes home, I’m sprinting out the back door.”
“Alright,” she laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll help with your escape, if need be.”
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You’re tempted to smash your head into the bar top.
You’ve been debating the pros and cons of it for the last forty five minutes, actually.
The gala is bustling, bodies packed into the beautiful ballroom with barely an inch between them. Everyone has a drink in hand, the light from the chandelier glinting off of the champagne and whiskey poured into crystal glasses.
You’d said yes to the event when you were still Declan’s assistant - assuming that you’d go together, just like always. And now, here you are, standing on opposite ends of the room and avoiding each other like your lives depend on it.
A cool hand finds your waist, spiced aftershave hitting your senses and letting you know who it is before they even have to speak.
“Hello, darling.”
“Hi, Rupert.”
He spins you around gracefully, smiling at you with a twinkle in his eye.
“You look ravishing, as always.”
“You don’t look half bad yourself, you know. You scrub up quite nicely.”
“Oh stop, I’ll start blushing.”
You can’t help but laugh, accepting his arm as he offers it out to you.
“Come on darling, let’s socialise a bit. You can’t stand in the corner forever.”
“I can.”
“Not on my watch.”
He’s dragging you across the floor before you can process what’s happening, people passing by you in blurs of colour and sparkles.
“Dance with me.”
“Is this fun for you? Torturing me?”
“Oh, immensely,” he grins, hands finding your hips.
You reluctantly wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him with a quirked brow.
“Don’t you have a thousand other women you could be dancing with, Rupert?”
He spins you playfully, laughing as you shriek.
“I do, but none of them are nearly as beautiful as you.”
“Oh god,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Does that line usually work?”
“Never on women as smart as you,” he chuckles, swaying you gently.
You stare at him carefully for a moment, realising you know him too well when you instantly see through his carefree facade.
“Ask it, then.”
“Hmm?”
“I know that’s what this is. You’re going to get me all soft and relaxed and tipsy, and then you’ll ask me about Declan. You might as well just cut to the chase, Rupert.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re much too intelligent to think that I believe that.”
His eyes don’t leave yours as he tilts his head, getting a good look at you and your unwavering expression.
“Fine, you stubborn woman. Fine. I wanted to ask you about Declan at some point tonight. But only from a place of care and concern, not because I’m going to try to wrangle the two you of back together or anything.”
“Subtlety has never been your strong suit.”
“Forgive me for being confused, alright? You were joined at the hip, and all of a sudden you can’t stand the sight of each other. It’s just so unlike the two of you.”
You sigh deeply, dropping your head forward so it rests on his chest. Rupert’s arms tighten around you, silently letting you know he’s got your back.
“It’s complicated,” you explain, muffled by the material of the man’s shirt. “Stupidly complicated.”
“So complicated that it can never, ever be repaired? I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Blimey,” he half gasps, the sound vibrating through the both of you. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Even a broken clock is right twice a day, you bastard.”
Rupert laughs so loudly that people turn their heads to see why, the cadence of it completely infectious. Declan watches from across the room, unable to help himself from at least glancing at the two of you together so cosily.
“He’s currently watching you like some sort of bird of prey,” he informs, tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Whatever it was that happened, it hasn’t erased the fact that he cares about you. A lot. And I know for a fact you care about him.”
“Of course I do.”
“There we go then. Surely it’s nothing that can’t be solved with a bit of good old fashioned communication.”
“You’re a terrible communicator,” you argue.
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head as you both sway to the music once again.
“If I had a pound for every time that applied to you, Rupert, I’d be a fucking millionaire.”
He twirls you outwards quickly, watching as the skirt of your dress billows with the breeze of the action.
“And if I had a pound for every time Declan has pretended to stare interestedly around the room this evening just so he has an excuse to look at you, I’d be a millionaire too.”
You ignore the way your heartbeat picks up at his words, choosing instead to focus on the steady rhythm of the music from the piano that fills the space.
“Maybe he’s looking at you.”
“No, Lucky. He’s always looking at you.”
You sigh in resignation, fingers fiddling with Rupert’s collar as you straighten out his tie.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to respond to that.”
“You’re practically his right arm. This separation, whatever its cause, is doing both of you more harm than good. I don’t want to push you darling, because that isn’t fair - but just think about everything I’ve said, alright?”
He stares at you expectantly, brows raised in questioning.
“Alright.”
The grin on his face is almost blinding, beaming out in all directions.
“Now, you look too beautiful to stand on the fringes. I will dance with you all night if I have to, if it means showing off this stunning dress of yours.”
“So charming,” you smile, shaking your head. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse, isn’t it?”
“You’d be stupid to,” he winks, still grinning like the devil.
You let him lead you further into the middle of the dance floor, chuckling as he spins you as you go. Your hand has just slipped into Rupert’s once more when you’re both startled by a crash coming from the other side of the room.
The two of you whip your heads around towards the source of the commotion, to see two men in undoubtedly expensive suits brawling with each other. One of them is throwing punches while the other can do nothing but take them, merciless at his opponents hands. Some people are shouting and screaming, trying to physically separate them, while others turn a complete blind eye to the ruckus.
“Fuck,” Rupert mutters, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the scene.
You’re about to ask what the hell he’s doing when you’re pushed forwards and given a clearer view of what’s in front of you, understanding Rupert’s panic immediately.
Ginger is on the floor. Declan is standing above him with bloody knuckles.
“Fuck,” you repeat.
You want to run in the other direction, desperate to not be involved with the drama. And then you look at Declan - the way he’s falling apart at the seams, nerves ruined and adrenaline rushing through his veins, clearly on the edge of something awful… and all of a sudden you’re walking towards the brawl, logic be damned.
There’s so much noise surrounding you that you can’t hear yourself think. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding against your ribcage in your sudden determination to get to the Irishman.
You’re yelling his name without even realising you’re doing it, shouting at the top of your lungs to fight over the commotion.
“Declan! Oh for fuck sake… Declan!”
Your voice somehow breaks through the noise like a sirens call, the familiar melody of it finding his ears like his favourite song. His eyes finally meet yours, and the rest of the room melts away.
You have a conversation without saying anything, so many words exchanged in such a short amount of time. The two of you have always been good at this - communicating in your own language, silently and easily.
You grab his injured hand and intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him away from the scene of the crime with determination. You cast a look back to Ginger, who remains on the floor with blood dripping from his nose, before dragging Declan through the crowd and towards the front door of the huge Manor House. You can hear Rupert trying to mitigate the situation as you leave, using his charm as he does best.
You make your way outside, yanking the man behind you in your path without so much of a glance backwards. You trudge through the gardens in your heels, ignoring the way the dewy grass brushes across the tops of your feet occasionally. Finally, after walking for what feels like hours but was actually mere minutes, you come across a bench, sheltered by an old stone wall and neatly trimmed hedges.
You shove him to sit down, still refusing to look him in the eye. Neither of you say anything, the evening breeze and two sets of lungs heaving all that can be heard.
“What happened?” you whisper eventually, reluctant to disturb the peace. “Who started it?”
Declan looks surprised that you’re speaking to him, failing to hide the shock on his face.
“Will ya sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
“You’re not the boss of me anymore, remember?” you half joke, sitting down anyway.
“Funny,” he says, completely deadpan. He looks at you carefully for a long moment, before continuing. “It was Ginger, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with him otherwise.”
“What did he say?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me.”
“Well it shouldn’t.”
“Right.”
You stare at your shoes, wondering why you even bothered to rescue him back in the ballroom.
“Fuck this, then,” you mutter as you stand up to leave.
A hand wraps around your wrist as quick as a flash, pulling you back to sit down where you were.
“No. You don’t get to just walk away from me, not again.”
“Tell me what Ginger said.”
“Tell me why you quit workin’ for me.”
“I already did.”
“Liar. You gave me a poor excuse that’s absolute bollocks. I don’t believe it for a second.”
“That’s your problem, then.”
“Yes, it is.”
You stare at him, completely exasperated by the events of the last hour.
“You can’t just punch people at galas, Declan. It’s a bad look for you, for Venturer, and for every member of staff that relies on you.”
“I know.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
He scrubs his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with both you and the situation at hand.
“He made some horrible comment about you. I fell right into his trap too, like a bull and a fuckin’ red scarf.”
“What did he say?”
He hesitates for a moment.
“Just… something crude about you sleepin’ with me to get to where you are. Called me a cradle snatcher, too.”
“You can’t be a cradle snatcher if I’m a grown woman.”
“Exactly. And it’s not true, anyway. We all know that.”
“So why did you hit him, then? If we all know it’s not true?”
Declan sighs, fatigue painting the sound.
“Because no one gets to speak about you like that with no consequence. And because I was angry.”
“At me.”
“At you. Yes.”
You fiddle with your fingers, entirely unprepared for the fact that you’re about to have the one conversation you’ve been completely avoiding.
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” you begin. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”
“Then what did you mean to happen, Lucky? Did you think that you could just up and quit with absolutely no warning, without a problem? That I’d just let you walk out? Did ya think I’d help you pack your things?”
“Obviously not,” you whisper. “I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not. Which is why I know that you thought about that decision long and hard. And that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
He looks at you with pleading eyes, clearly desperate to resolve the issues between you.
“Please, Lucky.”
His voice is cracking just like his heart, breaking down the middle to allow all of his emotions to spill out onto the grass. You’ve never heard him sound like this. You hate it.
“I had to, Declan. For both of our sakes.”
“For fuck sake, can you cut it out?” he snaps, volume raising.
“Cut what out?”
“Speaking in these fucking riddles! I can’t even pretend that I have any idea what you’re talkin’ about. Please, whatever it is, however terrible you think it is… I just need you to say it. We’ll deal with the consequences. But I can’t keep goin’ around in circles, dancing around the subject constantly.”
You take a deep breath, bottom lip wobbling as you will yourself not to cry. You’re well and truly at the end of your tether, unsure of how much more you can take - or how much you want to. Deciding to throw caution into the wind, you exhale carefully before turning to face the man next to you.
“You’ll hate me. When I tell you.”
“I could never hate you. Never, Lucky.”
You get lost in your own head for a moment, staring off into space as you debate the best way to go about this. A large hand finds its way into your knee, comforting and grounding. His thumb rubs patterns into your skin where the slit of your dress is, warming you up from the outside in.
“I thought about it for a long time,” you begin. “A long time. Because being your assistant is the best job I have ever had, or will ever have. It was a dream, Declan. Even when we had a tough day, or week, or month, I always knew we’d be okay.”
He nods, his full attention on you.
“We were comfortable, me and you. Maybe a little too comfortable for a boss and his assistant, but in a good way, I think. I was settled, with you.”
He squeezes your thigh, urging you to continue.
“But then, I think we got too settled. People started to notice - which doesn’t matter, but they did nonetheless. I was sleeping over at your house, staying awake with you until the early hours, attending galas and events as your date. And I wasn’t sure what it was - the thing that was bothering me - until one day, it clicked.”
“Lucky…” he whispers, desperate for you to spit it out.
“I’m in love with you.”
The two of you sit the silence for a moment, listening to the breeze softly whip around you.
“That’s what clicked. And that’s why I quit. Because it felt like a conflict of interest, like a… betrayal.”
“A betrayal?”
“Yes. Like I was taking advantage, or something. And I didn’t think it was fair, for you, having me pining over you at work. I didn’t want you to feel pity for me, if you noticed eventually - I hated the idea of being treated differently by you, all through fault of my own. So I quit to get ahead of it.”
“Are ya done?”
“I, uh… yes?”
“Great.”
Declan surges forward, smashing his lips to yours with the most passion than you’ve ever experienced in your life. One of his hands tangles in your hair as the other cradles your face, pulling you as close as he physically can. His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily, allowing you to taste whiskey, cigarettes and the cool night air. Eventually, when you both need to breathe, he pulls away reluctantly, resting his forehead on yours.
“Did you do that to make me shut up?” you murmur, fighting to keep the smile off your face.
“Yes and no.”
He’s grinning like the devil, chuckling as the palms of his hands find your cheeks.
“Yes and no?”
“Yes and no. I took the action needed to stop you rambling. But I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time.”
“… What?”
“Why do you think we got so comfortable, Lucky? It works two ways. You were just the only one brave enough to make a change - even if it was the completely wrong thing to do.”
“So you don’t hate me?”
“The opposite,” he laughs. “I can’t remember when it happened. I woke up one day and I just knew. And I knew that you’d never feel the same way, but I love being around you so much that I was willing to make that sacrifice. So I was a coward, and I stayed silent.”
“We’ve made this complicated. Too complicated.”
“Much too complicated.”
“But… it is. You were my boss, and you’re older than me, and I’m good friends with Taggie now, and-”
Declan kisses you again, sweeter this time.
“We can figure it out, Lucky. You know we can.”
“Maybe,” you whisper.
“And I want you to come back to work.”
“Declan-”
“I’m serious. I cannot cope without you. I will never find an assistant as good as you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to. I want you. No one else.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a conflict of interest, like I said earlier.”
“But it isn’t. Not anymore. Before all of this, we were two people in love working together. And when you come back, we’ll be two people in love working together.”
You can’t find it in you to argue, realising that he’s actually making a good point. If anything, it should be easier now that you’ve both communicated your feelings - no more skeletons in the closet.
“Tell me you don’t miss it,” he provokes. “Tell me you’re not even remotely tempted to come back.”
“I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
You take a deep breath, moving the hair away from his eyes tenderly.
“I’ll think about it, alright? I’ll have a think when I go home.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He smiles like the cat that’s got the cream, entirely too satisfied with the outcome of this conversation.
“I know we’re in uncharted territory here, Lucky. But we can figure it out. You know we can.”
“I know. It’ll be hard, but… I know.”
You lean up to kiss him softly, sighing as your eyes drift closed. He winds a hand around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pulls you closer, trying to plaster every inch of his body to yours.
You lose yourself in everything Declan - the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he feels underneath your fingertips. You want to strip him bare right here and memorise every curve of his muscles, every line in his skin, every mark on his face.
His hand slips further and further up the slit of your dress, gripping at your thigh as if he’s worried you’ll slip away. You’re half in his lap, draped over him on the bench as he still pulls you impossibly closer.
“I’ve dreamt of this,” he whispers against your throat. “Every. Single. Night.”
He kisses his way along your neck, revelling in the way you squirm at the feeling of his moustache on your skin. You grab fistfuls of his white shirt, crumpling it in your hands to try and give yourself some sort of anchor.
When Declan’s fingertips slip into your underwear, all you can do is sigh, resigned to the fact that you’d let him do absolutely anything he wanted in this current moment.
“We’re in public,” you protest weakly, both of you knowing you don’t want him to stop.
“We’re at the bottom of the garden, surrounded by three hedges and a wall. If anyone sees, that’s their fault.”
You drop your head forward onto his shoulder, parting your legs to give him a better angle. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels just how aroused you are, practically vibrating with want.
“Are ya this wet f’me?”
You nod against his shirt, not trusting your voice.
“Oh, sweetheart. Well I can’t leave you like this, can I? That’d be cruel.”
He pulls your underwear to the side fully so he can slip a finger into you with ease, both of you groaning at the sensation. Sliding a second one in, you hold onto him for dear life, panting like you’ve run a marathon.
“Please,” you whisper. “Declan, please.”
“I’ll do anything to hear you say my name like that again, Lucky. Anything in the world.”
“Declan.”
He sets a steady pace, crooking his fingers as he goes to make sure you see stars. Your eyes are rolling back, lip caught between your teeth to stifle any sounds that threaten to escape.
“God, I wish I could hear how pretty you sound,” he groans, looking at you intently. “You can make as much noise as you want when I take you home. Promise.”
You whimper softly, bucking your hips up to meet his rhythm. The bench is cold underneath you, the air turning chilly, but neither of you pay any mind to it. You’re too far gone to care.
You grab Declan’s other hand and stick two of his fingers in your mouth, laving your tongue around them to keep you quiet. He moans at the sight, all deep and rumbled, the sound reverberating through both of you.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
All you can do is look at him with big, bright eyes, pleading with him silently to finish the job at hand.
“You want me to make you come, sweetheart? That it?”
When you nod, he picks up the pace of his fingers, thumb pressing circles into your clit.
“Have ya thought about this? In bed, alone, getting yourself off in the dark?”
You whine at his words, nodding your head in answer.
“That’s a good girl. Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me and I’ll take you home and fuck you properly, yeah?”
You see stars as you climax, gripping onto his shirt and his hand for dear life. He works you through it, murmuring filthy promises into your ear as he does it.
Lifting his fingers from between your thighs, he pops them straight into his mouth, both of you groaning in unison.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your lips, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Perfect girl.”
You shuffle sideways so you’re pressed into Declan’s side, two strong arms encircling you immediately.
“Thank you.”
“For the orgasm?”
“Yes and no,” you laugh. “For listening to me. I’ve been going insane trying to think about what I’d say to you if I got the chance to explain myself, but no words seemed to suffice.”
“I just wish you’d talked to me sooner, sweetheart. I’ve been going insane trying to get through life without you. Not to mention that office is chaos.”
You laugh gently, cuddling into him and his warmth.
“I’ll fix it on Monday.”
“Yeah? For definite?” he asks, hope colouring his voice.
“Yeah. Like I said - best job I’ve ever had.”
“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, sweetheart.”
You grin as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, all soft and sugary sweet.
“Besides. Someone’s going to have to sort out the inevitable mess that’ll follow you hitting Ginger at a charity gala.”
“Ah, I forgot about that,” he laughs, planting a kiss into your hair. “What would I do without ya, hmm?”
“You’ll never have to find out,” you smile, resting your head onto his shoulder. “Never again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
You sit on the bench for a little while longer, both of you looking up at the stars that paint the sky in a canopy above your heads. You’re quite convinced you could stay like this forever, just the two of you in your own little universe.
There’s paperwork to be done, meetings to be had, deals to be made. But all of that can wait.
Right now, it’s just you and Declan.
The way it should be.
reblogs are gold dust, lovers!! reblog and circulate your favourite fics, and your writers will create more. simple. <3
#declan o’hara#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara smut#declan o’hara x reader smut#declan o’hara imagine#rivals smut#rivals x reader#rivals x reader smut#declan o’hara x you#declan o’hara x female reader#rivals fanfiction#rivals fic#rivals imagine#rivals 2024#aidan turner#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black imagine#rivals disney+#rivals
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Okayy so this is my first time doing a request BUTTTT can you do Daisuke brat taming reader? Idk I just want him to be rough..😣🙏
Oooooo now this I'm actually excited to write :3
NSFW MDNI
Daisuke x bratty f! Reader
Daisuke was so tired. So done with everything. Swansea had been on his ass all day with stupid shit. He just wanted to go to his room with his girlfriend and have a decent night. Until you started teasing him, bending over to pick things up in a way you normally never did. A way you knew drove him crazy. The way your hips swayed when you walked towards him. Looking up at him with those big doe eyes. God he was so over today, honestly he was waiting for an excuse to take his frustration out on something. That something being you.
You've been bent over the bed for what felt like hours now. Tears brimming your eyes as Daisuke's hand came down on your ass once more. Making you jump and whimper at the contact. "Awww is the little bratty bitch crying?" He laughed meanly. " Too bad, looks like the consequences of her actions have finally caught up to her." He said, his brown eyes glaring down at you." Here's what you're gonna do, you're going to get on your knees and suck me off until I cum down that pretty little throat of yours then maybe, just maybe, I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight." He said, gently shoving you onto your knees in front of him. The bulge in his pants a dead giveaway to how much he was getting off on this. " Go on, get to work." He said, looking down at you. Your hands made quick work of his belt, pulling out his cock as you wrapped your lips around it. Looking up at him as his hand went to your hair. Gripping it gently as he thrusted into your mouth. Tears brimming your eyes as you gagged, Daisuke groaned as he huffed, fucking your throat as if it were a toy. You were practically soaking through your panties. Your eyes crossing while he fucked your throat. "Fuck m' gonna cu-um." He whimpered, that's the Daisuke you knew. With a few more thrusts he came down your throat. You pulled off and started coughing. His eyes were filled with concern as he held your face gently. "Color?" He asked. "Green." You replied. "Good, now get the fuck over here." He said, putting you face down ass up. His cock teasing your cunt. "I want you to apologize for being such a teasing little bitch today." He said, grinding against your entrance. "M' sorry Dai." You whined against the pillow. His hand came cracking down onto your ass once more. "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it?" He asked, pushing into you, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arching as he started a brutal pace. The only thing being heard in the room was the slapping of skin and your desperate moans. "This what you needed? To be fucked like a whore?" He asked, gripping your hips harshly. You nodded as you hummed a small 'mhmm'. You were so close, you just needed a little more for you to cum. Daisuke stopped. "Beg. Say you're sorry and that you won't pull anything like that again." He said, a smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I won't do anything like that again I promise. Just please let me cum." You whined. "Atta girl." He said, speeding up his movements again as he reached around your body. Playing with your clit as your eyes crossed. That knot in your stomach snapping as your came all over his cock. It didn't take long for him to cum after. Once you two were tied out he laid down next to you. "Was I too rough baby?" He asked, those puppy dog eyes coming back within a second. "No it was great." You said with a smile kissing him sweetly. "Good."
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing horror game#mouthwashing hc#mouthwashing headcanon#i need him#mouthwashing smut#i need a lobotomy#daisuke x reader
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headcanon: Bakugo is on the autistic spectrum.
Special interests include:
Cooking
Fire
Yelling
Being the best
Drums
Deku
Yelling at Izuku
Talking about Izuku
Arguing with izuku
Chasing Izuku
Getting stabbed for Izuku
Dying for Izuku
Following Izuku around
Watching Izuku
Thinking about Izuku constantly
Izuku
Cats
#girl the closet isn’t closed#Bakugou be like: ‘yeah I imagined our lives being so intertwined that I can’t properly picture a future where you’re not with me.#so I’ll save up for 8 years and directly contribute towards your dream. for the rivalry.’#he wants to marry him so bad it makes him look stupid#bakudeku#mha#text post#bakudeku mutuals interact already bc I can’t stop thinking abt these idiots#katsuki bakugou
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Imagine Reader! Having a bad day and watching TV shows with Task force 141!
Camera Guy! Au, Female reader.
Masterlist
Previous - Next
--------
Reader! who just shuts down when they're angry/upset. They weren't necessarily mad at the 141 but they stopped talking all throughout breakfast, sparring and lunch. There was no crying, no snippy remarks. She still salutes, nods and responds through her ‘face’ (she still does her judgement face. She skips dinner to set up her little plan to feel better.
Reader! who binge watches a TV show when they're tired/stressed, anxious or upset. For example, F.R.I.E.N.D.S or XOXO Kitty. Reader! just needs to turn her brain off so she doesn't dwell on some stupid thing that's bothering her.
The rest of the team just blink at the screen from behind the couch as they come into the common room. Ghost blinking and looking at Soap for answers but soap just blinks too.
Price who muses while handing reader a plate of dinner.
‘I remember when they were taping this show. (F.R.I.E.N.D.S)
Reader who blinks while spooning some rice into her mouth,
‘Wasn't that in like 1994?,
‘Yeah how old were you?’ John asks, offhandedly.
‘Don't know if you wanna know that Cap.’
Reader laughs as john runs a hand over his face. (He's hiding a grin and a bit of a blush.)
Price who sits down on the couch on the furthest side so he can man spread.
Kyle plopping down with a cup of tea for her,
‘Hey love, are Monica and Chandler together yet?’
Reader! Nods and grins,
‘Mhm! Wanna watch their wedding episode with me?’ Reader! all bundled up wriggles over making room.
Soap moving to the couch, lifting up Readers! legs and placing them in his lap.
Ghost moves to the armchair and grunts, ‘Phoebe is the most annoying character. And Ross and Rachel WERE on a break.’
Reader! nodding emphatically,
‘I agree. Joey and Chandler are the least annoying characters. Ross is an ass and Rachel is so manipulative.’
Kyle just grins and asks Reader! quietly if she wants popcorn.
Reader! shakes her head, tugging his sleeve, urging him to stay.
Reader! who falls asleep on the couch after the episode ends. Ghost who stays and sleeps on the arm chair. (He wakes easily. Any noises and he's up.)
Soap gets a blanket from his room and covers Reader! with it.
Reader who wakes up the next time and is fine again. The task force doesn't mention anything because they're just there. They're a team, they have to stick together. (Totally not because they think she's their person
#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod 141#task force 141#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john mctavish x reader#captian price x reader#captian price#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#captian john price x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz garrick x reader
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The question has to be asked. For every human they suddenly find on the lost light. Does brainstorm get smacked for it? I think it'd be funny if a count was kept like that
(Juat smth stupid that I'm giggling over while goofy on sleep meds)
He really should be smacked for every “surprise, here’s a human”
My Way Pt 3
Brainstorm x Reader
• “See? I’m already better at this than half the crew,” he calls out to Perceptor as you just stare at him with wide eyes. Maybe you’re defective and can’t vocalize? “You know, these things are kind of cute in an ugly way.” Can feel the frantic beat of your heart against his servos and honestly, he doesn’t get the obsession. Why fuss over and dote on these weird, little organics? Oh. You’re making a noise now. Kind of a high pitched wheezing.
• Frozen as the giant monster talks about you to the other monster like you’re not even there, he glances at the other one and as soon as those yellow optics aren’t staring a hole in you, the terror paralyzing you shatters. Screaming like you’re being bloodily dismembered and he almost drops you, jarring you into biting your tongue as your heart feels like it stops for a moment. “Your skills are astonishing. I’m sure even you can keep one little human alive,” the other mutters before disappearing.
• “Just had to scream, didn’t you? Look, you appear to be an adult. Probably. So I’ll make sure you have access to food and water and you don’t embarrass me,” he growls, watching you wince and touch your mouth. “That was embarrassing me, by the way.” And you’ve still got a hand over your mouth. Did you hurt yourself? How? Those tiny teeth look blunt. Venting, he carries you back to his habsuite and pulls a slightly used cleaning cloth from his subspace, putting you down and dropping it on top of you. Watching you struggle free before your wide eyes dart around and land on the vent. Can he be held accountable if you get in there? Probably. “I wouldn’t. Unless puréed by a fan is how you want to go out.”
• Shivering as the giant walks past you and sits at a desk, apparently wholly unconcerned about you crawling into the vent to purée yourself anyway despite his warning. And it occurs to you that you really don’t want to be on the floor considering how big he is. Especially his peds. Feeling like a toddler, you edge closer to him, head tipped back to study him. If he meant to hurt you, he would have by now, right? You’re pretty sure he’d only almost dropped you because you’d screamed in his face. If there’s more giant monsters, you need to at least buddy up to one of them for safety. Right? “Can I not be on the floor? Please?”
• So you can talk. Leaning to look down at you, he reaches out a hand and you shy away. “You want up here?” Looking miserable, you come closer and climb into his hand and it’s so disconcerting how tiny and breakable you are. Making him feel almost bad about the one Whirl has. How has it survived this long? “There,” he murmurs, lifting you to his desk and tipping his hand to get you to slide out of his palm, because you’re unsettlingly soft and warm. “If you eliminate on my desk, I’ll put you in the vent myself,” he adds as you just stare up at him. Ugly cute. “I’m Brainstorm by the way. Just sit there and don’t touch anything while I work.” Pulling up a schematic he’d been working on, because designing weapons calms him and right now his processor is a mess. No getting back to recharge until he works off the nervous energy. Didn’t want or need a human. What good are you anyway except to get in the way? Servos stilling when you wander closer, staring up at him, little expression serious. “What? Blinded by how handsome I am?” And still frowning up at him, you wrinkle your nose and shake your head. Okay, that’s just hurtful.
Previous
I apologize in advance if anything else I post today is badly in need of editing. In my defense, the grocery store had my wine in stock for once
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Omg I love your writing!! 🥹 please could I request nsfw Sonic x Reader with it being readers first time? Thank youuuuu 🫶🫶🫶
⋆🎐˚。⋆ — hehehe i’ve been waiting for this one… turn it up!!! since there is no specified gender for reader i will do fem! (thank u for requesting! <3)
sonic x fem!reader ୧🍓 ༘ ₊˚.
ᝰ.ᐟ warnings ; NSFW 18+, suggestive shower scene, gentle sex, oral (reader receiving), praise.
it’s winter, and it’s a harsh one.
you and sonic are the type to stay indoors when it’s cold, especially since it’s well past 9 o’clock and a snowstorm is manipulating vastly outside your kitchen window. typically, you don’t mind a heavy flurry, but it can be easily anxiety inducing with the fear of the power going out — which wasn’t ideal.
as you sat with one leg tucked under your knee on your leather couch scrolling on your phone, you could hear the mere moment of vibrating electricity before sonic appeared beside you , his leg crossed over his other and his arm behind you on the back of the sofa. he peered over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were looking at, which he was bad for, being nosey and all, which just ended up being a Pinterest board. his gloved finger tapped on the back pillow, his gaze switching to your face as he awaited your acknowledgment. you tilted your head back on his arm and rolled your head over to look him in the eye, putting your phone down. “yes?”
“mm, hi,” he hummed before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m taking a shower, id like to be clean before and if the power goes out.”
he spoke with charm in his voice, as if he was still attempting to win you over, regardless of the fact you haven been together for a little over 8 months. frankly, he swept you off of your feet each time.
you furrowed your eyebrows at him, lifting your head as you grew serious. “uhm, no. i’m taking a shower. you had one yesterday.” you protested, which in response he scoffed and looked into the distance for a second.
“you also don’t run around all day everyday smelling like every biome on this earth. c’mon, please?” he looked back at you with that stupid persuasive look in his eye that put you into a chokehold, however you weren’t complying.
“i also haven’t washed my hair in two days and look like i crawled out of an oil slick,” you turned to face him, gesturing your hand towards the window behind the couch. “i don’t want to risk going in after you when there’s a storm outside. that freaks me out.”
feeling rather indifferent about the jab at yourself, sonic ran his hand over his ears, leaning forwards to put his elbows on his knees, looking back at you.
“likewise, princess,” he teased, making you scrunch your face at him, “what’s the compromise?”
you opened your mouth to reply but stopped yourself, your chest contracting for a quick second before swallowing hard and shrugging.
“well, we could… shower, together? maybe. i don’t know. there’s less of a chance that way.” you suggested. he was slightly taken aback, since you both haven’t been in such a suggestive context before. however, he would be stupid to decline.
────୨ৎ────
you stood awkwardly in your bathroom within your shared bedroom, watching shyly as the blue hedgehog turned on the faucet, trying to get it at the right temperature. you held the towels tightly to your chest unknowingly, starting to overthink about how he would react seeing you so vulnerable and exposed. of course he has seen you basically naked, by changing clothes in the same room and what not, but this was different. however the soft look in his eyes as he turned around to face you softened that fear slightly. he took the towels from you and placed them on the counter and opened the shower curtain.
“i’ll get in first, you come in when you’re ready.” his patience and kind voice made you purse your lips in order to not randomly smile like a freak, and so you hesitantly slipped off your clothes piece by piece.
the steam from the water filled the bathroom quickly, and you eventually stepped into the shower to avoid wasting any time. sonic stood with his back to you, facing the shower head. you noticed the muscles in his back, flexing and straining everytime he moved his arms to wash his head. biting your cheek, you faced your back to his and began to wash your body.
it didn’t take long before it felt slightly awkward, however when you went to grab the shampoo, sonic had suddenly turned around and grabbed it first. you froze momentarily as he seemed to pop open the cap and a cold sensation ran over your scalp. his hands began massaging your head, gently working the shampoo through your roots and down to your ends. you definitely didn’t mind this.
you closed your eyes in pure bliss and groaned, leaning your head back onto his shoulder as he rubbed circles into the sides of your head. your back was now flush against his chest and a flash of heat travelled through your legs, provoking the other storm that brewed in your gut. there was something about his act of service that made your face flush and your knees to grow weak.
“does it feel good?” he asked in a tone that made you panic internally. you tried your best to nod, turning around to face him as you let the water flush out your hair. your sudden boost of confidence under the water with him turned quickly intimate as your chest was now flush against him. sonic lifted a hand to take a handful of your hair and strain the excess shampoo out — and you knew exactly what he was doing.
before another word was said or worse, you simultaneously crashed against each others lips, your hands raising eagerly to wrap around his neck as his instinctively ran down the dip of your back and latched on to your hips to pull you closer. the kiss instantly deepened as a few groans slipped past your lips and onto his, making his breath shudder. sonic had reached behind him blindly to turn off the faucet and whipped open the shower curtain. as much as his eagerness to get out of the bathroom was harsh, his lips and touch were certainly the opposite. the kisses lingered slowly as he savoured every taste and scent that flooded into his senses, completely drunk off of you.
you felt him grow hard against your leg, causing you to jolt a little at the sudden feeling. he pulled away, looked into your eyes with a feral expression in his own, and pressed his lips to your neck. he seemed to lap at the shower water that beautifully coated your shoulder & neck, being rewarded with the soft sounds that erupted from your throat.
“sonic, m’ please” you fumbled in a whisper, your hands clawing at his bare back. he hummed in response and didn’t hesitate to lift you up by your legs, stepping out of the shower and bringing you to bed. taking a break from your lips for a moment, sonic gently placed you down on your silk sheets and looked into your eyes with a serious expression.
“do you want this?” he asked softly, his eyes gazing at your soaked body and heaving chest. face flushed, you looked away for a moment.
“i..i do, just nervous. i don’t know what to do or say.” you admitted shyly. sonic pressed a gentle kiss to your jawline and leaned his lips to your ear.
“just let me take care of you, yeah?” his voice echoed in your eardrums, and you nodded eagerly, a soft whine slipping from your lips. getting you fully on the bed, sonic trailed small kisses from your forehead down to your stomach, his hands fondling anything he could grab.
“so pretty, baby,” he whispered as he reached your pelvis, looking up at you to observe your reaction. of course you were beet red and beyond nervous, however you craved this like a drug. you’ve only been dreaming of this moment basically since this man walked into your life. and now he was about to be buried between your legs, and the thought left you aching.
rubbing circles into your hips, sonic maintained eye contact as he pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his breath wafting over your aching core causing you to shiver. you cursed under your breath as you tried to keep your hips from jerking upwards out of excitement.
“you tell me when to stop, and i’ll stop, okay?” listening to him setting boundaries with a soaked body was something you would only find in a harlequin book. you stared like a dumbfound dog, nodding in response. he smirked before slipping his thumb down your clit and between your folds, feeling the wetness that overcame you. propped up on your elbows, you threw your head back as you moaned gracefully, making his ear twitch in response. he was quick to put his tongue to work, teasing you with small swipes against your clit then transitioning to sucking and tongue fucking you like his life depended on it.
it was impossible for you to stay quiet, and it was equally impossible for him to not rut against the bed out of desperation. sonic craved to make you feel good like this, to have the power to manipulate your pleasure by just his tongue. he took pride in knowing that he made you come undone like this.
he groaned deeply as his tongue slipped in and out of your core, having to keep your hips still with his hands as you squirmed and whined. he looked up at you with lidded eyes, his aching cock not being able to wait any longer to be inside of you. the look he gave you made your stomach tighten and a ringing to start in your ear. the tip of his tongue grazed over your clit once more which nearly sent you over the edge.
he could tell by the way you gasped, where he then pulled back and took a gasp of air, his mouth coated with your slick. he used his thumb to wipe it off and smear it on his tongue, crawling back up to you to kiss you once more. you already felt tired and overstimulated, yet your muscles were not satisfied as they awaited their closure.
“you taste so good, y/n,” he mumbled between kisses, his hand trailing down your chest and to your pussy once more to gently prod a finger at your entrance. you gasped in the kiss and bucked your hips up which notified him that you wanted more. he slipped in a second finger and groaned at the sound of your core squelching around his fingers. he pulled away from your lips, his arm propped up beside your head as his other hand worked through your core.
your insides felt as if they were swelling rapidly, the heat mixing between you and sonic had you basically melting into the sheets. “ ‘want it now, please,” you whispered shakily, your mind so clouded with pleasure you were sure you wouldn’t be conscious in the next few minutes. he slipped out his fingers, earning a gasp from you, and eagerly grabbed protection from the night stand.
you both chuckled softly at sonics struggle to open the condom with wet fingers, your heart swelling knowing that you didn’t have to be serious even during such an intimate moment. when he finally opened it and rolled the rubber shakily on himself, he hovered himself over you and bashfully scanned your body for a moment.
“are you, uh… ready?” he asked awkwardly, the poor boy afraid to do anything rash in fear of you becoming uncomfortable. reaching your hand up to run your hand down his damp quills, your legs instinctively spread open, your arousal nearly pooling under you. “uh huh,” you replied with a squeaky voice, giving him a look that would be forever imprinted in the back of his head. he cursed under his breath, knowing that he would severely fail at keeping his composure longer than two minutes.
the moment he began to slide into you, you let out a quick sob at the sudden pain, sonic being quick to ease you out. he pressed soft pecks to your jaw and neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. it was unbearably uncomfortable at first, however once he gave a final push, it felt like a puzzle piece connecting. you gasped , your walls clenching around him at the pleasure that quickly over took the pain. you moaned loudly, signaling for sonic to begin moving his hips.
he raised his head, his hands again placed beside your shoulders, a drunken look falling upon his eyes. fuck, you felt good, and he wasn’t hiding it.
he just watched you — mesmerized and drinking in the euphoric sight of your flushed face, hazy eyes and wet hair sprawled on the pillow, his lips parting in awe. he often day dreamed about seeing this, however that was nothing compared to being in the real moment. his hips twitched every time you made a sound, and he would’ve sacrificed his soul to have that on repeat for the rest of forever.
“does… does it feel good?” he asked in a shaky breath, seeking the reassurance that what he was doing was satisfactory. “mhmm, yes, yes,” you huffed out, your hands gripping onto his biceps as his body rocked against yours.
the soft creaking of the bed and precious huffs & moans exchanged between the two of you filled the room quickly, and it was just perfect. sonic found himself losing his coherence as he became quite vocal and sped up his movements ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you, his hands moving to your hips to steady himself.
and that sight was just godly. his fur still damp, ears twitching, eyes half lidded and muscles flexing with every thrust… the sight alone could have easily caused your orgasm. however, instead it was caused by a whole other sensation.
as one of sonics arms wrapped under your hips and was hoisted slightly to give an incline, his other hand rubbed small circles onto your clit. he retracted his cock slightly from inside of you, now only giving small thrusts around two inches inside of you. he watched you intently, breaths quick and ragged as he licked his lips at your reaction.
he was stimulating probably one hundred different spots right now, and it was ethereal. you tried your best it maintain eye contact, but the growing knot in your abdomen threatened your composure.
“fuck, fuck sonic i-im, i,” you babbled as your hips involuntarily jerked and sputtered like a broken engine. some sort of whine broke past his lips as he was clearly on edge as well just from the sight of you, his hips stuttering every few thrusts. “ ‘you’re doing so good, s-so good, y/n —“ not another word was exchanged before you completely let go, the sound of your voice on his tongue triggering what was threatening to come undone. sonic was quick to follow along, not being able to control the rest of his cock pushing all the way inside of you, hitting every mold in your sore cunt.
the heavy pants that followed your boyfriend riding out both yours and his orgasm let the moment sink in, your sweat and salvia mingling between the tension in the air. pressing his forehead to yours, you both closed your eyes and came down from your high.
a kiss was quickly captured between the two of you, locking in place what was just commenced. his hand stroked your hair, leaning his index and middle finger away from you so he wouldn’t get any fluids onto your clean locks. (gentleman!) pulling away, he looked down at you, smiling like a fool and climbing off of you to lay on his side, propping his head up with his palm.
“imagine, all of that just happened just because i wanted to shower. i think im gifted.” he was instantly back to his smug ways, which meant being back to your annoyed facade. you rolled your eyes as much as you could and attempted to push him away.
“you’re so gross.”
“mm… but you love me.”
“yeah. yeah i guess i do.”
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
a/n — holy yap… i feel like i dragged that on alot but its hard to stop once you start LOL anyway tysm for requesting anon n im currently working on new reqs!! 🩵
#sonic fanfiction#sonic the hedgehog#sonicssweetheart#digital diary#fanfic#sonic oneshots#sonicnsfw#sonic18+#sonic x reader#requests open#send reqs
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♡Tunnel Vision - Minho
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST
pairing: bad boy! Minho x student! reader
summary: You can't stand the boy that sits behind you in class. He's rude, arrogant and a huge Playboy. and now you're paired with him for your newest poetry assignment.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, Playboy Minho, heavy kissing, groping.
It's not that you hated your new poetry course. Just one specific person in your new poetry class. Minho would show up late or sometimes not at all. And when he did bother to show up, he would sit at the desk behind yours. He would lean into your ear and ask you what he missed.
His breath would be warm against your neck and the first time he whispered, you actually felt butterflies. You were nice and smiled. You would turn your head and tell him in hushed tones what he had missed. He'd notice the slight flush in your cheeks and it would make him smirk because he knew. He knew that your head was pounding because of him.
But then one day after the class had ended a girl had pushed her way through a crowd of students to get to him. She yelled and cried because he never called her again. She told him he was an asshole and his response was “what's your name again?”
So now when Minho strolls into class late and takes his seat behind you, you keep your head forward. You suffocate the butterflies in your stomach and square your shoulders. You refuse to be another notch on that man's belt. You refuse to let him make you feel so warm and wet and so-
“I think I'll partner you with Minho this week.”
Your eyes flash to the front of the class where the teacher is looking directly at you. “No, no I can't. I…” you plead but the teacher just shakes his head and hands you the newest template for the poetry course this week.
Minho's dorm room was exactly as you expected. Messy, unkempt, a real boy's place. As the two of you stepped inside he off the cuff mentioned he had a roommate but the two of you should be undisturbed for the night.
“Who's your roommate?” You ask as you pull a few textbooks out of your bag. Your voice was flat and ultimately uninterested but you needed to make some kind of small talk to cut through this tension of being in Minho's living room. Minho rummaged through his fridge and pulled out a few beers before making his way back to you on the couch. “You don't know him.” He said quickly. He slid the second beer across his coffee table to you. You rolled your eyes and pushed it to the edge of the table and pulled out the template from class. “Let's get started, okay? The sooner we get this going, the sooner we can be done and never speak to each other again.”
Minho smirked, his slender fingers tapping against the neck of his beer bottle. “Aw, what's the matter? You don't like me?” He leaned in closer. “Nope.” You snapped back. This response made Minho laugh. A loud, full laugh that promised that he didn't believe you. He was cocky and he was sure that every girl wanted him. His eyes lingered on you as you continued to read over the template. “So, what bullshit do we have to write about now?” Minho asked while taking another swig of his beer. You sighed heavily in response. “Love. The subject is just love. It says to write about any kind of love, however it speaks to you.”
Minho let out a huff. “Between a beautiful woman's legs, that's the only love I need.” He remarks. “You're disgusting.” You retort. You slide a template over to where he sits, “just write something, pervert.” Minho's face scrunches up for a moment, “aren't we supposed to be working on this together, partner?”
“You're a big boy, you can handle it.” You scold, your hand gripping tightly to your pencil. “Just write.” Minho sighs loudly as his body slumps deeper into the couch. An hour goes by without either of you saying a word to one another. Just the sounds of pencils scraping and pages turning fills the air around you. “This is stupid.” Minho complains, finally breaking the silence. The sound of a pencil hitting the coffee table breaks you out of your writing trance and you shoot a glaring look at him. “If you hate this so much, why did you sign up for this class?” You quip back.
Minho's eyes flash an intensity that matches yours. An angry, exacerbated look that contracts with his normal cool and calm demeanor. Has he never had someone challenge him before? Has he never had a girl stand up to him instead of immediately falling to her knees? You hold your stance and the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Then Minho grabs your half-written poem in an instant before you can even process what he is doing. He stands up from the couch and holds it ceremoniously. “Let's see what Miss Goody-Goody wrote about love, eh?” You fumble up from the couch and take a confident dive at Minho to try to get the paper back but miss as he pulls the paper away at the last minute. “Give that back!” You demand. But Minho holds the paper just out of reach, laughing proudly as he does. You look back at the coffee table to find his paper sitting there unprotected and take your chance, snatching it quickly into your hands. Minho's eyes widen as he realizes where this little chess game has led the two of you and his cheeks begin to burn a bright, hot red. His voice drops to a low, intimidating octane, “give it here. I'm serious.” His hand splayed out in front of you.
You let out a triumphant laugh and stick up your nose at him. “No way!” Minho smirk turns to a serious expression and he takes a few steps towards you, causing you to take a few steps back. Soon you are frantically trying to figure out your next move. You quickly fake left before turning to the right and easing your way around Minho and down the hall to an open door welcoming you inside. You hastily run into the room and shut the door behind you, hearing the pounding sound of Minho's palms flat against the other side of the door. “This isn't funny anymore! Come out of there!” He shouts from the hallway.
You clear your throat ready to read the poem out loud. Minho groans loudly before giving the door one last defeated thud. Your eyes scan the page and you find yourself frozen by something you did not expect.
A carnation bright
Unfold for me
This is everything and nothing
I put a ribbon and signed the envelope
Postage stamp
In the garden you wait
Surrounded by a soil that drains
Who waters you?
Where is the watering can that fills your petals, sweet Carnation?
I pluck you so carefully
Lie you down on the softest pillow
You've ever felt
You clutch the page in your hands, a slight tremble causing the paper to crinkle under your fingertips. Your eyes pour over every line again and again. The words are erased and written again, scribbled over and corrected. But the words he chose, the words he decided were the right ones to express himself, they stayed etched in pencil led with a secretive beauty. You slowly make your way to the bedroom door and turn the door knob. You find Minho sitting in the hallway across from the door. He glares up at you, his face painted red in embarrassment. “Don't say anything. I know it's bad.” He whispers, his voice shaking slightly.
You step out into the hallway and kneel in front of where Minho sits. “It's not bad, Minho. It's actually…good.” You confess. You watch Minho's head lift up as he searches your face for any hint of a lie. Then he lifts up your paper, “you didn't write anything.” He smirks.
Then it was your face that burned red. You had written a few pathetic lines of poetry before erasing everything in frustration. “I hate what I wrote. I hate everything I write.” you murmur. This causes Minho's smile to grow and spread across his face. But this smile was different, not a mocking, cocky smile but a smile that seemed to understand exactly what you meant. “That just means you're good at what you do. Come here, I'll show you.” He said and then stood up taking your hand in his and pulling you back into the bedroom. The bedroom that was, in fact, his bedroom. In the far corner of the room stood a tall, broad bookshelf so full that it almost looked like it would bend and break if just one more book was added. Minho searched the shelf for just a moment before pulling out three books. He then turned on his heels to face you. “These authors didn't even get published until their late 40s. Can you believe that? Now everyone reads them!” His eyes lit up with the kind of fascination designated for a child on Christmas morning. He placed the books in your hands and begged you to read them. You looked down at the books in your hands and furrowed your brow. This was not the boy you were expecting. Why did he have to act like such an asshole all the time? Why did he have to act so uninterested and bored all of the time?
You look up from the books and stare at Minho for a moment. “Why are you so afraid of people seeing this side of you?”
Minho jolts from your blunt question. His eyes lock with yours and for a moment his mouth hangs open in silence. Then he steps closer to you. “Because this side is too real, too raw. If they are the real me then they can hurt the real me. And I can't risk that.”
Something snaps in you at his response. You didn't know if it was his honesty or the fact that you had been feeling the exact same way but something outside of yourself brought your lips to his. His lips were surprisingly tender. His hands made their way up to your jawline and nestled there as the two of you worked in tandem. Your nose brushed against one another as his mouth opened in invitation. Your tongue scraped softly against his teeth, giving way to his teeth biting and holding onto your bottom lip. A soft and vulnerable noise escaped you at that moment. And a flash of all the women who have ever been in this room entered your mind, causing you to break the kiss. You stumble back and press your hand over your mouth. “I can't. I'm sorry.” You turn towards the bedroom door and make your way down the hallway to leave. You frantically and admittedly quite clumsily grab your book bag and jacket before making a b-line to the front door.
Minho never tried to stop you, never called your name out and begged you to stay. You walked back to your dorm room and threw yourself onto the bed. You bury your face in your pillow until all light leaves and only darkness remains. He wasn't just a fuckboy, player, or asshole. He was actually someone who you could fall in love with. And that thought was scarier than anything else.
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I want him so bad it makes me look stupid............
#jjba#jjba fanart#jojos bizarre adventure#jotaro kujo#jjba jotaro#jjba part 4#jjba diamond is unbreakable#diamond is unbreakable#jojo diu#jotaro part 4
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