#it was impossible to ignore that something is going on

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[amirasainz]

young f1 driver who is very closed off and while she got close to the grid she is still very closed off with her personal life and they don’t know much about her…. ollie comes for a race he fills in or it watch her and the grid suddenly sees her smiling and laughing and touching ollie and like ohh

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🤍

The Ollie effect

The Red Bull garage buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Yn, at just 18 years old, was the youngest driver on the Formula 1 grid. Her ascension had been nothing short of meteoric. She was a prodigy, a natural talent in the car, but a bit of an enigma outside of it.

The grid knew her as reserved and quiet. Yn was friendly and always happy to hang out, but there was a wall no one had managed to climb. She was the one listening intently to stories, smirking at their jokes, but never really sharing much herself. The grid had long accepted it; Yn was just like that.

---

It was the morning of the Monaco GP when Yn strolled into the paddock, her cap pulled low over her face.

“Yn! Morning!” Lando called out as she walked by McLaren’s hospitality. She raised a hand in greeting, her small smile fleeting before she disappeared into Red Bull’s motorhome.

“She’s always like that,” Charles said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Cool, but mysterious.”

“Have any of you ever seen her properly smile?” Pierre teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

“She does smile, you know,” George defended, earning skeptical looks.

“Not with us.” Carlos leaned back in his chair. “She’s always listening, never talking. Like a spy gathering intel.”

---

Later, the drivers gathered in the lounge for the usual pre-race banter. Yn was there too, perched on a chair in the corner, her headphones around her neck, fiddling with her phone.

“Alright, Yn,” Daniel started with his signature grin, “you’re in Monaco now. You gotta give us something. A secret. A story. Anything!”

She smirked, rolling her eyes. “Nice try, Ricciardo.”

“Come on!” Lando chimed in. “We share everything, and you’re like a closed book. Spill something!”

Yn shrugged, nonchalant as ever. “I like listening to your stories.”

“See?” Charles groaned. “Impossible.”

---

The morning passed, and the buzz around the paddock shifted as news broke: Ollie, a promising young driver from F2, was set to fill in for another team this weekend. It wasn’t unusual for reserve drivers to step in, but what caught everyone’s attention was Yn’s reaction.

She was standing by her car, chatting with her engineer, when Ollie walked into the garage. Yn’s entire demeanor shifted. Her face lit up with a smile so genuine and rare that her team did a double take.

“Ollie!” she called out, jogging over to him.

“Yn!” Ollie opened his arms as Yn practically launched into a hug. The pair laughed as they pulled apart, talking animatedly.

From the adjacent garage, Carlos nudged Charles. “Did you just see that?”

“Was that… Yn smiling?”

---

Throughout the day, the dynamic between Yn and Ollie was impossible to ignore. The two were inseparable, chatting, laughing, and even sharing little nudges and touches. It was a stark contrast to the usually reserved Yn everyone was accustomed to.

During lunch, the drivers couldn’t hold back their curiosity.

“So,” Lando began, leaning across the table, “you and Ollie, huh?”

Yn looked up from her plate, confused. “What about us?”

“That!” Pierre pointed. “The smiling, the touching, the actual talking.”

“What?” Yn frowned, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“You’re different with him,” Charles said bluntly. “You’re never like this with us."

Ollie, who had just joined them, plopped down next to Yn. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, I’m different with you,” Yn said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

“Well, you are,” George said. “Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s just… surprising.”

Ollie laughed. “That’s because I’ve known Yn forever. She can’t hide from me.”

“Oh, really?” Daniel leaned forward. “Care to elaborate?”

Yn sighed, but there was a small smile on her lips. “We grew up together. Our families are close. He’s practically my best friend.”

“Practically?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Norris,” Yn said, but the way she nudged Ollie with her shoulder gave it away.

---

For the rest of the weekend, the drivers watched as Yn continued to let her guard down around Ollie. It was clear he brought out a side of her none of them had seen before.

On race day, Yn was back to her focused, determined self, but between sessions, she could be found joking around with Ollie, her laughter echoing through the paddock.

“You know,” Carlos mused as they watched Yn and Ollie from afar, “I think we’ve been replaced.”

“By one guy?” Pierre scoffed. “Unacceptable.”

---

After the race, they finally cornered Yn in the lounge.

“Alright,” Daniel said, crossing his arms. “Spill. What’s the deal with Ollie?”

Yn sighed dramatically. “He’s a friend. A really old friend. Happy?”

“Not even close,” Lando said. “We need details.”

“It’s not that deep,” Yn said, but there was a softness in her eyes. “He’s just someone I’ve always trusted. That’s all.”

“Translation: He’s her favorite,” Charles teased.

“Shut up,” Yn muttered, but her smile gave her away.

---

For the first time, the grid saw a different side of Yn—a girl who could let her walls down and just be herself. It was a glimpse into the hidden chapters of her life, and while they still had a lot of questions, they were content to wait.

“She’s finally human,” Pierre joked as Yn and Ollie walked by, deep in conversation.

“Hey!” Yn called back, flipping them off with a grin.

And just like that, Yn wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.

[tokkiwrites]

Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

[majikkulu]

━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞

in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’ll  explore  what  men  truly  think  of  you  and  what’s  on  their  minds  when  they  see  you.  remember,  this  is  a  general  reading—take  what  resonates  and  leave  the  rest.

if  you  have  any  ideas  for  tarot  pacs  you'd  like  me  to  do,  feel  free  to  drop  them  in  my  ask  box,  and  i'll  make  it  happen!

choose  a  lily  rose,  or  the  pile  that  speaks  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!  xoxo

PILE ONE men  often  see  you  as  someone  who’s  carried  a  lot  of  emotional  weight—someone  vulnerable  but  resilient.  there’s  an  undeniable  intensity  in  your  presence,  something  they  can’t  quite  put  their  finger  on.  it’s  like  you  radiate  this  quiet  strength  paired  with  an  untouchable  aura,  making  you  incredibly  intriguing  and  intimidating,  even  if  you  don’t  outwardly  seem  threatening.  your  guarded,  composed  nature  adds  to  this  effect.  the  way  you  carry  yourself—controlled  and  intentional—might  make  you  seem  less  approachable,  but  it  only  deepens  the  mystery.  they  project  their  own  ideas  onto  you,  seeing  you  as  a  kind  of  enigma,  much  like  a  mona  lisa  painting.  they  sense  you’re  holding  back,  keeping  parts  of  yourself  hidden,  and  that  drives  their  curiosity  about  your  inner  world.  this  air  of  secrecy  makes  you  seem  reserved,  yet  magnetic.  men  find  it  difficult  to  approach  you,  sensing  you’re  selective  about  who  you  let  into  your  life.  even  so,  they  feel  an  inexplicable  pull  toward  you,  captivated  by  your  charisma  and  the  depth  they  imagine  lies  beneath  the  surface.  to  them,  you’re  emotionally  measured,  possibly  even  detached  at  times,  which  adds  to  the  allure.  they  see  a  duality  in  you—a  puzzle  to  be  solved,  someone  who’s  both  open  yet  deeply  private,  vulnerable  yet  fiercely  strong.  it’s  this  complexity  that  makes  you  unforgettable  in  their  eyes.

PILE TWO men  view  you  as  someone  who  effortlessly  draws  admiration,  often  without  even  realizing  it.  you  seem  to  leave  behind  a  trail  of  small,  unspoken  crushes,  as  if  your  presence  alone  commands  attention.  there’s  something  about  the  way  you  carry  yourself—confident,  poised,  and  self-assured—that  naturally  demands  respect.  your  posture,  attitude,  and  energy  turn  heads,  making  you  impossible  to  ignore.  your  presence  feels  loud  in  the  best  way,  like  a  spotlight  follows  you  wherever  you  go,  even  if  you’re  not  seeking  it.  men  see  you  as  independent,  someone  who  values  their  own  space.  there’s  an  elegance  and  beauty  about  you,  a  sense  that  you’re  well  put  together  and  intentional  in  how  you  present  yourself.  they  admire  your  self-sufficiency,  assuming  you  don’t  need  anyone  to  complete  you—which,  paradoxically,  only  heightens  their  attraction.  there’s  a  magnetic  quality  to  your  energy,  as  if  an  unspoken  understanding  or  chemistry  exists  between  you  and  those  who  cross  your  path.  you  give  off  the  vibe  of  someone  who  connects  deeply  but  only  with  those  who  meet  your  standards,  making  you  all  the  more  intriguing.  men  might  see  you  as  the  "total  package,"  the  kind  of  person  they  dream  of  approaching  but  hesitate  because  you  seem  so  effortlessly  out  of  reach.  your  combination  of  elegance,  confidence,  and  independence  makes  you  unforgettable.

PILE THREE men  see  you  as  someone  who  moves  with  intention,  like  every  step  and  word  has  a  purpose.  there’s  something  about  your  energy—maybe  the  way  you  talk  quickly  or  handle  things  efficiently—that  makes  it  hard  for  them  to  keep  up.  to  them,  you  seem  constantly  busy,  focused,  and  driven,  like  someone  who  knows  exactly  what  they  want  and  isn’t  willing  to  settle  for  less.  they  find  it  difficult  to  pin  you  down,  noticing  how  you  do  things  your  own  way  and  refuse  to  take  orders  from  anyone.  this  independent  streak  makes  you  exciting  but  also  slightly  intimidating.  they  feel  like  they  can’t  quite  get  a  grip  on  you,  which  only  adds  to  the  intrigue.  to  many,  you  come  across  as  someone  who  guards  themselves  with  firm  boundaries.  if  anyone  crosses  the  line  or  invades  your  personal  space,  you’re  not  afraid  to  call  them  out.  this  makes  men  view  you  as  someone  strong  and  assertive,  but  it  also  contributes  to  the  impression  that  you’re  reserved  and  hard  to  approach.  some  see  you  as  unpredictable,  a  person  who  won’t  bend  easily  or  allow  others  to  influence  you.  this  creates  a  challenge  for  them—they  feel  like  they  need  to  prove  their  worth  just  to  earn  your  attention  or  get  close  to  you.  beneath  all  of  this,  they  sense  a  dynamic  energy  and  a  wealth  of  potential  in  you,  but  they  also  know  you’re  not  easily  accessible.  you’re  someone  they  can  admire  from  afar,  but  reaching  you  feels  like  an  accomplishment  reserved  for  the  very  few  who  truly  match  your  wavelength.

[puckstories]

Boyfriend Headcannons | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Fluff, that's it I think. Edited only once.

Summary; What I think Quinn would be like as a boyfriend (:

Word Count; 3.1k

Author’s note; Enjoyed writing this so much, also considering writing a nsfw version if anyone would be interested. As per usual, any thoughts or reblogs are greatly appreciated (: -Honey

Boyfriend Quinn, who absolutely lives for affection.

He’s not always the most vocal about it, but the way he craves your touch, your kisses, your warmth—it’s in the little things he does. Quinn has this quiet, relaxed way of seeking affection that makes your heart swell every single time. He doesn’t always ask for it with words; most of the time, he doesn’t need to.

You’ve learned to recognize his silent cues by now. Whenever he wants a kiss, he won’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he’ll simply stop whatever he’s doing and turn toward you, his soft hazel eyes locking onto yours, and then he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly, his lips gently pouting in that way that’s both completely endearing and impossible to resist. He’ll just look at you with that silent, expectant expression, waiting patiently for you to indulge him, because he knows you almost always do.

And how could you not?

Sometimes, he’ll be subtle about it—like when you’re both curled up on the couch, watching a movie. You’ll feel him shift beside you, and when you glance over, there he is, his lips pushed out just a little, eyes soft and hopeful, his attention fully on you. It’s a request, his gentle way of saying, "Come here, kiss me." You’ll roll your eyes playfully, but inside, your heart melts every time. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, and you can feel the contentment in the way his body relaxes, the way his hand automatically finds yours and squeezes, as if thanking you without a single word spoken.

Other times, he’s a bit more bold, more obvious—like when you’re cooking in the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables or stirring something on the stove. You’ll be focused on whatever task you have at hand, and you won’t even notice him sneaking up behind you. He’ll come up and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and before you even have a chance to say anything, you feel it. He presses his lips to your neck, soft and gentle, and then pulls away just enough to turn his face toward you, lips already slightly puckered, waiting. He doesn’t say a word, but his intentions are clear.

You’ll try to ignore him at first, teasing him, pretending you’re too busy with dinner to give in to his unspoken request. But he’s persistent. He’ll squeeze you a little tighter, nuzzle into your neck, maybe even let out a small, exaggerated sigh to get your attention. And when you finally turn your head, there he is again—pouty lips, soft eyes, silently waiting for the kiss he knows he’s going to get. You give in, every time. You can’t help it.

"Okay, okay," you’ll say with a laugh, turning your head to press your lips against his, giving him exactly what he wants. The way his lips curl into a smile against yours tells you just how satisfied he is.

It’s not just the way he asks for kisses, though. Quinn is equally generous when it comes to giving affection, and he loves surprising you with it at the most random times. You could be in the middle of reading a book or scrolling through your phone, completely absorbed, and suddenly, you’ll feel his presence beside you. He’ll lean in, wrapping his arms around you gently, his hands resting at your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. No reason. No explanation. Just because he can. Just because he wants to.

And it’s those moments that catch you off guard the most—the way he showers you with love so effortlessly, so naturally. He never needs an excuse. For Quinn, giving you affection is as simple as breathing. It’s the way he expresses his love, the way he reminds you how much he adores you, even without saying a word.

It's in the way, he loves being close to you. He always finds a reason to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your lap, or draping his arm over your shoulders when you’re sitting beside each other. He’s not clingy, but there’s a need for contact that’s just so Quinn—that gentle, understated craving for connection. And you’re always happy to give it to him, knowing that being close to you is where he feels most at home.

When he’s tired, he’s even more affectionate. After a long day of practice or a tough game, you’ll find him seeking you out the moment he steps through the door. He’ll drop his bag, kick off his shoes, and walk straight to you, wrapping you up in his arms without a word. He won’t even need to say he missed you, because the way he pulls you close, burying his face in your neck, says it all. And when he’s feeling particularly worn out, he’ll simply press his lips to your forehead or your cheek, a quiet sigh escaping him as he relaxes into your touch.

And then there are the nights when he’s lying next to you in bed, the room dark and quiet, both of you just on the edge of sleep. That’s when Quinn is at his softest. He’ll roll over, pulling you closer, his lips brushing over your temple or your shoulder, and you’ll feel his gentle pouting, his silent plea for one last kiss before he drifts off. You oblige him every time, pressing your lips to his in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, and he’ll hum contentedly, his body relaxing completely as sleep finally overtakes him.

Quinn never needs to say much when it comes to affection—his actions speak louder than words ever could. The way he seeks out your touch, the way he silently asks for your kisses, the way he gives so freely of himself—it’s all a testament to how deeply he loves you, how much he cares about you.

Boyfriend Quinn, who always does the little things for you.

It’s in the smallest, most thoughtful gestures that Quinn shows his love, the kinds of things that make your heart swell and remind you just how lucky you are to have him in your life.

Take winter, for example. As soon as the first snow starts to fall, Quinn’s mind is already on you—making sure you’re taken care of, even when it comes to something as simple as the driveway or your car. He hates the thought of you standing out in the freezing cold, shivering as you scrape ice off your windshield in the early morning before work. So, whenever he’s home and able to, Quinn is always up before you, dressed in his thick jacket and boots, quietly heading outside while you’re still bundled up in bed.

By the time you’re awake and getting ready for the day, the driveway is already clear, the snow neatly shoveled into piles, and your car’s windshield is free of snow and ice. It’s not something he ever makes a big deal about—he doesn’t even mention it, really. You’ll only realize what he’s done when you look out the window and see the work he’s put in, your breath fogging up the glass as you smile to yourself, heart warmed by his thoughtfulness.

You always try to thank him, but Quinn just waves it off like it’s no big deal. "I don’t mind," he’ll say with that soft smile of his. "I just want to make things a little easier for you." And that’s the essence of Quinn—he’s always thinking about how to make your life better, how to take even the smallest burdens off your shoulders, whether it’s clearing the snow or making sure you don’t have to start your day on the wrong foot.

Then, there are the flowers. Every week, without fail, Quinn makes sure to pick up your favorite flowers when he’s out. It’s not a grand gesture, not some big bouquet delivered to your door—just a simple bunch of fresh flowers that he knows will brighten your day. Sometimes, they’re the ones you’ve always loved: delicate peonies, bright sunflowers, or soft, fragrant roses, depending on the season. Other times, he surprises you with something different—wildflowers from the local market or a mix of colors that remind him of you.

The best part is always when he walks in with them, his face lighting up just as much as yours does when he sees your reaction. He loves the way your eyes widen and the way your lips curl into that smile he adores, the one that makes his whole day feel brighter. "You didn’t have to do that," you always say, even though you both know how much you love it when he does. And Quinn just shrugs, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter or the dining room table with an easy grin.

"I like seeing you smile," he says simply, as though that’s all the explanation he needs. And it is—because, to him, these little moments of joy he brings into your life are worth everything.

It’s the same when it comes to things like the dishes. Quinn is the type of boyfriend who doesn’t just pitch in around the house—he takes care of the things he knows you hate. Like dishes. You’ve always hated doing them. It’s that one chore that gets under your skin, and you’ve made it no secret that scrubbing pots and pans is not your idea of fun. Quinn knows this, and so even on nights when he’s the one who cooked dinner, he’ll always make sure to handle the cleanup, too.

"Go relax," he’ll say, waving you off when you try to help. "I’ve got this."

You’ll protest, of course—after all, he’s already done the cooking, and it doesn’t seem fair for him to do it all. But Quinn is stubborn in the best possible way. He’ll roll up his sleeves and start running the water, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to convince him otherwise.

"You hate doing dishes," he’ll remind you with a smile, "and I don’t mind them. Plus, you always do so much for me." And that’s Quinn—always thinking about balance, about making sure you’re taken care of. He knows how much you appreciate the little things, and to him, doing the dishes after dinner is just another way of showing he loves you.

And then, there are the texts. When Quinn’s away for away games, his schedule is packed, and the time zone differences don’t always work in your favor. But he never lets that stop him from staying connected with you. No matter how busy his day gets, no matter how late it is, he always makes sure to send you a good morning and goodnight text, without fail.

Sometimes they’re simple—“Good morning, baby. Hope you have a great day.”—just a little reminder that he’s thinking about you, even when he’s miles away. Other times, they’re more playful—“Wish I was in our bed, I miss your icicle feet”—a teasing note to keep things light even in the middle of a long road trip. And when he’s too tired to string together a full sentence, it’s just a quick “Miss you” with a heart emoji, but that’s all it takes to remind you how much he cares.

He’ll always send these texts right before he crashes into bed, no matter how late or how exhausted he is. And when you wake up in the morning, knowing he’s already thinking about you from wherever he is, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat. It’s the small things like this that mean the most—how, even in the chaos of his life, Quinn makes sure you know you’re never far from his mind.

Boyfriend Quinn, who loves taking you on dates.

Whenever he has an off day, the first thing that crosses his mind is you. He always makes sure to check in with you first, sending you a quick text during the day or giving you a call, gauging how your day is going and whether you’re feeling up for it.

"How's work today? Not too tired? Feel like going out later?"

You never have to guess if he's planning, because you know Quinn's always thinking about how to make the most of his time off with you. It’s his way of creating balance in his life, something steady and beautiful amidst the chaotic whirl of hockey schedules, travel, and games. And even if you’ve had a long day at work, the thought of spending the evening with him—of getting out of the house, hand-in-hand, with nowhere else to be but together—always gives you the energy to say yes.

Most of the time, the two of you keep things casual, finding comfort in the familiar. Your favorite go-to is a small diner just a short drive away, the kind of place that feels like a second home. The staff knows your names, and there’s always that corner booth waiting for you two, tucked away enough for a little privacy. It’s not fancy, but it’s yours. The menu is simple—burgers, fries, milkshakes—but it never fails to hit the spot after a long week. There’s something cozy about it, something that makes you both feel grounded. You’ll sit across from each other, sharing fries and talking about everything and nothing, laughing over inside jokes that no one else would get.

But occasionally, Quinn likes to change things up. There are times when, instead of texting you about grabbing dinner at the diner, he’ll tell you something a little different: “Dress fancy tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you.” You can almost hear the excitement in his voice, even over text.

When Quinn decides to take you somewhere nice, it’s an event. He puts thought into every detail, planning a reservation at a restaurant you both love but don’t visit often—maybe that elegant spot downtown with the candlelit tables and soft jazz playing in the background. He’s a romantic at heart, even if he doesn’t always show it in obvious ways. On those nights, he wants to make sure everything feels just a little more special.

One of the best parts is the little ritual the two of you have before your fancier dates. Even though you live together, Quinn always insists on getting ready in the guest bedroom, leaving you to get dressed in the room you share. It’s his way of adding an element of surprise, a way to keep things exciting. He loves the idea of seeing your outfit for the first time when you come downstairs, just like on your earlier dates, when everything was still new.

The guest bedroom becomes his own little prep space. He’ll spread out his suit jacket or freshly ironed button-down on the bed, taking his time to make sure everything looks just right. Quinn isn’t the type to obsess over his appearance, but on these nights, he pays a little extra attention to the details—whether it’s making sure his tie is perfectly knotted (though, he rarely wears one anymore) or his cologne is subtle but present. He knows how much you love when he dresses up, and honestly, he loves seeing that look in your eyes when you see him standing there, ready for the night.

Meanwhile, in your shared room, you’re just as focused, choosing the perfect dress and making sure your hair and makeup are done to perfection. There’s a thrill in getting ready separately, knowing that in just a few minutes, you’ll come downstairs and have that little moment of reveal. It’s a simple tradition, but it always makes the evening feel a bit more magical.

When you finally step out of the bedroom, your heart always flutters with anticipation. You make your way downstairs, and there he is—standing by the door, looking impossibly handsome in his suit or tailored shirt, his eyes brightening the moment they land on you. It’s like time stops for a second. Quinn’s not one to gush, but the way his lips part slightly and that small, slow smile spreads across his face says everything you need to know.

"Wow," he’ll say softly, his eyes taking you in as if he’s seeing you for the first time. "You look... amazing."

You can’t help but smile back, your cheeks warming at the compliment. "You clean up pretty well yourself," you’ll tease, though you can’t deny how much you love seeing him like this—dressed up, standing there with that look of admiration in his eyes.

He steps forward, closing the distance between you, and without a word, he’ll reach for your hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss—just a little gesture to avoid messing up your lipstick, but one that makes your heart skip a beat every time. It’s these small, quiet moments of affection that make Quinn’s love feel so real, so genuine.

And then, off you go, stepping out into the evening together, hand in hand, as the world seems to fall away. The restaurant is just a short drive, and the conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and teasing. When you arrive, the ambiance of the restaurant is perfect—low lighting, the hum of quiet conversations around you, and the soft clink of glasses and silverware. But for you, the real magic of the evening isn’t just the atmosphere or the delicious food—it’s the fact that you’re with him, that Quinn has gone out of his way to make this night special for no reason other than wanting to spend time with you.

Throughout the meal, he’ll reach across the table, his fingers brushing against yours, or he’ll lean in to whisper something that makes you laugh, that private smile playing on his lips. He loves these moments—the ones where it’s just the two of you, away from the rush of life, enjoying each other’s company in a way that feels intimate and timeless.

And when the night is over and you’re both back home, the magic of the evening doesn’t fade. Quinn always makes sure to cap off the date in the sweetest way possible. He’ll pull you in close, his arms wrapping around you as he presses a kiss to your forehead, whispering something like, "I had fun tonight," in that casual, endearing way of his.

[teddybeartoji]

bakugou hates it when you don't take good care of yourself. no matter whether he's your friend or a lover, doesn't matter if he's just your roommate, he can't stand it at all. it pisses him the fuck off.

he sees way more than he lets on, making it impossible for you to hide; when you brush past a question about whether you've eaten or not, he'll clock it immediately and when the bags under your eyes grow darker, he'll see that too. he notices the stupid things you think nobody would and it's weird to feel so seen by him.

he'll check the fridge and take note of the food that's still there, but he won't say anything – without asking whether you want it or whether you need it, he'll make you something on his own. he knows what you like and he knows what you don't like, he knows exactly what'll make your eyebrows raise up in surprise and what'll make your nose scrunch up in disgust. he'll prepare the meal and he'll give it to you with a huff.

sometimes he'll just let you eat in your own room but sometimes he'll try to lure you into the living room with him. and it's not even about him making sure that you'll finish it or anything, he just wants to eat with you. he's trying to be as gentle as he can because he realizes that a lecture would only make the matters worse; so, he'll simply put on a film he knows you'll like and he'll take his seat on the couch while waiting for you to join him. no pressure, no harsh words.

there are times where he'll be a bit more straightforward, though.

if he catches you ignoring some of his questions, about you drinking water etcetc, the likelyhood of him calling you out on it is high. he doesn't have time for that – he'll interrupt whatever you were rambling about and he'll demand an answer. silence will do, if that's all you have for him. he won't even give you a reaction, he'll just urge you to continue on with your talk while getting you a glass of water.

he gets straight to the point and there's really no point in trying to fight him.

you not dressing correctly is also something he'll immediately reprimand you for because where the hell are you going like that? no scarf on a windy day? he'll click his tongue and throw you his. no gloves during winter? he'll come back the next the with a completely new pair that he'd gotten for you. at the time, he might even chuck a pillow at you and tell you all about how he won't take care of you if you were to get sick.

and you'll laugh because you know he's lying, and he'll tut and avert his gaze.

because he knows he's lying.

oh, and he will nag about your messy room.

while cleaning it.

at first you think he's just there to mock you but then he's actually dusting your shelves and folding your clothes and taking away your dirty dishes and when you finally pull yourself together to tell him to stop, he gives you a glare that would seem harsh to a stranger, but you know better.

just let me do it.

if you try to thank him for it, he'll pretend like it never happened. like you don't have anything to thank him for, even less apologize for, because well... in his mind, you don't.

he isn't mad at you, he's just mad at the situation. this isn't laziness and he knows it, and so, he'll do his best to make it better, to make it easier for you. he'll make you something to eat and he'll clean your room and he'll bark at you for dressing too lightly and he'll let you fall asleep on his shoulder without a complaint because this is his way of letting you know that he cares for you.

[helioooss]

my favourite ex

synopsis: when minjeong dumped you over a year ago, nobody thought that you’d still be chasing after her: your favourite ex.

w/c: roughly 9.5k+

warnings: swearing, making out. winter’s a bit of an ass. law terminology when i actually know nothing about it and university as a whole (this hurt my fucking brain cause i went to uni for a week then dropped out). some angst here and there. (is it even a helios fanfic without a tinge of angst???)

a/n: merry christmas again - first detailed make out scene, lmao :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the class was buzzing when you rolled in, skateboard strapped to your back, oversized “i love my ex” shirt proudly displayed for the world — or rather, for one person in particular, to see. you could feel the weight of the stares, the judgmental whispers blending with poorly concealed laughter, but it didn’t bother you.

at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“mate, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” ryujin said the moment she spotted you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they practically disappeared into her hairline. she nudged yeji, who turned around from her seat and immediately burst into laughter.

“you’re actually wearing that?” yeji cackled, pointing at your shirt as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious what it said. “y/n, come on. you’ve got to stop giving her free real estate in your head.”

“she’s not in my head,” you argued, dropping your bag on the floor with a thud. “she’s in my heart.”

“jesus christ,” ryujin groaned, burying her face in her hands like she couldn’t bear to look at you anymore. “you’re so down bad it’s embarrassing, just gets worse everyday.”

beomgyu leaned back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear as he tilted his head to study your shirt. “honestly, respect. this level of delusion? it’s kind of iconic.”

“thanks gyu,” you plopped down on the seat next to him with a smile.

“no, i mean it,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “like, who does this? who actually wears an ‘i love my ex’ shirt to a class they share with their ex?”

“me,” you said, grinning to yourself. “because i’m not a coward.”

yeji snorted. “no, you’re just stupid.”

you ignored her, your eyes flickering to the other side of the room. there she was, in all her glory: kim minjeong, your ex-girlfriend, sitting with her clique like a queen holding court. yizhuo was whispering something to her, and whatever it was made her smirk — the type that used to make your knees weak.

that felt like a lifetime ago.

she looked flawless, of course. she always did. her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling perfectly into place and she was dressed like she’d walked straight out of a magazine; simple yet effortlessly elegant.

even the way she was sitting, legs crossed and her arm draped casually over the back of her chair, made it impossible to look away.

you weren’t the only one staring. everyone in the room was drawn to her in some way, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

she was one of the richest girls at yonsei, part of the infamous clique of untouchables: minjeong, jimin, yizhuo and aeri. together, they were a force of nature, the kind of people who ruled the social hierarchy without even trying.

and yet, once upon a time, minjeong had been yours. your gaze lingered on her, memories flooding in uninvited. the late-night study sessions where she’d tutored you in the basics of tort law, her patience wearing thin every time you made a dumb joke to avoid answering a question.

the rare moments when her cold exterior would crack and she’d laugh; a soft, genuine sound that made your chest ache with something you didn’t understand back then.

the way she used to look at you, like you were the most infuriating person in the world but also someone she couldn’t quite let go of.

“don’t even think about it,” yeji warned, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “do not embarrass yourself any further, y/n.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from the love of your life.

“you’re literally about to get up and try to sit with her,” she deadpanned.

“i was not!” you protested, even though the thought had definitely crossed your mind.

“oh, for sure you were,” ryujin whined, rolling her eyes. “you’re like a moth to a flame. except the flame is your rich, hot ex who dumped you in the middle of the busiest hallway on campus. remember that?”

as if you could forget.

the image was burned into your brain — the way she’d stood there, her voice calm and detached as she said: “i’m bored of you, y/n.”

the flood of emotions when people had stopped to watch, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. the way your chest had caved in, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

but you’d smiled through it. laughed, even. told her it was fine, that you understood. because you did. you understood minjeong better than anyone else, knew that her coldness was just a shield she used to keep people at arm’s length.

she’d come around eventually, you were sure of it. you just had to wait.

“oh my god, you’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” yeji groaned. “y/n, move on. she’s not worth it.”

“she’s absolutely worth it,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“no, she’s not,” ryujin said firmly. “she’s cold, distant, and —”

“hot,” beomgyu interjected.

“— and way out of your league,” ryujin finished, ignoring him.

“i don’t care,” you muttered, glancing back at minjeong. she caught your eye for a brief moment, her expression unreadable, before she turned away.

your chest ached.

god, you missed her so much it hurt.

“you’re hopeless,” yeji muttered, shaking her head.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair as professor cho walked in and started the lecture. you tried to focus, really, you did, but every time you glanced in minjeong’s direction, you were reminded of everything you’d lost — and everything you were still desperately hoping to get back.

the class was dead silent, except for professor cho’s monotone voice droning on about the intricacies of criminal law. your head was propped up on your hand, and you let out a long, slow yawn that you didn’t even bother to stifle.

unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“miss l/n,” she snapped, her voice sharp and disapproving. “if my lecture is so boring, perhaps you’d like to teach the class yourself?”

you blinked, caught off guard. “i wasn’t saying it was boring.”

“no, you were implying it,” she shot back, folding her arms. “do you have anything to add to the discussion, or are you content to waste everyone’s time?”

the entire room was watching now and you could feel the weight of their eyes on you. you glanced at minjeong, who was sitting with her arms crossed. she didn’t even bother to look at you.

one thing you hated was the judgment, the way your chest tightened uncomfortably under the pressure.

“i didn’t mean to waste anyone’s time,” you defended, trying to keep your voice steady. “i just yawned. it’s not a crime.”

“it’s disrespectful,” she retorted. “and given your current academic performance, i’d suggest you take this class more seriously.”

that hit a nerve. “oh, so now we’re making it personal?” you asked, your voice rising.

“y/n,” ryujin hissed from the corner of the room, but you ignored her.

“you know what?” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “i don’t need this. i don’t need to sit here and listen to someone power trip on their authority.”

“then leave,” she finished coldly. “and don’t come back until you’re ready to behave like an adult.”

“gladly,” you muttered, storming out of the room.

once you were outside, you fumbled with your bag until you found your pack of cigarettes. your hands were trembling as you lit one, the first drag filling your lungs and easing the knot in your chest. you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes as the nicotine worked its magic.

but even with the cigarette in hand, your thoughts drifted back to her. minjeong. her stupid smile, the way her eyes used to soften when she thought no one was looking. you thought about the way she’d laughed at your terrible jokes during those late-night study sessions, her walls crumbling just enough to let you in.

and then you thought about the way she’d torn it all apart. how she’d stood there in the middle of that hallway, looking at you like you were nothing and said she was bored.

the memory made your stomach churn. you felt sick, anxious, like you were coming apart at the seams.

“you’ve got to let her go,” you mumbled to yourself, flicking ash onto the ground. “she’s not coming back.”

the words felt hollow. you’d been telling yourself the same thing for months, and yet here you were — still wearing an “i love my ex” shirt like a complete idiot, still hoping she’d see you and change her mind.

you finished your cigarette, hanging around campus before heading to your administrative law class, your mood dark and heavy. when you walked in, yeji waved you over, patting the seat next to her. you slumped into the chair without a word, ignoring her concerned look.

“you alright?” she asked quietly.

“fine,” you mumbled.

out of curiosity, you glanced over your shoulder and immediately regretted it. minjeong was already sitting a row behind you with aeri, her face calm and composed as always. she didn’t even glance your way, but you could feel her presence like a weight pressing down on your chest.

yeji leaned over, her voice low. “okay, but seriously, what’s up with the shirt? you’re not helping yourself.”

you shrugged. “thought it’d be funny.”

“it’s not,” she said bluntly. “it’s sad.”

you didn’t have the energy to argue. instead, you focused on the desk in front of you, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the surface. you hadn’t even realised you were trembling until yeji put a hand on your arm.

“hey,” she said softly. “are you okay?”

“i’m failing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “failing everything. maybe i should just drop out. leave this place and start over somewhere else.”

she frowned. “don’t say that.”

“why not?” you asked, meeting her eyes. “what’s the point? i’m not cut out for this. i’m just wasting everyone’s time — professors, my parents, even yours.”

“that’s not true,” she said firmly. “you’re not wasting my time and you’re definitely not a waste.”

you didn’t respond, staring down at your trembling hands.

“listen,” she continued, her tone softer. “i know it’s a lot. but dropping out isn’t the answer. you just need to take a step back, breathe and figure out what you want.”

“i don’t even know what i want anymore,” you admitted.

from behind you, you felt a pair of eyes on you. minjeong’s. though you didn’t dare turn around, you could feel her frown, her sharp gaze lingering on your hands.

“just…think about it,” she added, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “you’ve gotten this far.”

by some miracle — or maybe out of sheer spite, you managed to pull yourself together for the rest of the lecture. instead of zoning out or whispering to yeji, you actually listened. surprisingly, the material clicked this time.

professor diaz, as sharp as ever, began throwing out questions to the class and to everyone’s surprise — including your own — you knew the answers.

“miss l/n,” he called, clearly sceptical after he heard of your earlier outburst. “procedural fairness — tell me, what are its main components?”

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at yeji, who gave you a small, encouraging nod. “uh, well, the two main components are the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

the professor raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to be correct. “and? tell us more about it.”

“the right to a fair hearing means that anyone affected by a decision should have an opportunity to present their case,” you answered, hesitation still audible in your voice. “the latter will ensure that decision-makers remain impartial and free from any conflicts of interest.”

he paused, then gave a small nod of approval. “not bad, miss l/n. maybe there’s some hope for you after all.”

you felt a flicker of pride at his words, though it was quickly replaced by embarrassment as yeji smirked and whispered, “look at you, being a functional member of society.”

after class ended, you gathered your things and followed her out, ignoring the glances from your classmates. as the two of you walked toward your usual hangout spot, you spotted ryujin and beomgyu already waiting on the stairs that led down to the fountain.

the fountain, of course, was near the gazebo where minjeong and her clique always sat — and judged.

“finally!” ryujin called out as you and yeji approached. “thought you two got lost or something.”

“y/n was busy impressing the professor,” yeji teased, nudging you. “she actually answered questions. correctly, even.”

“whoa,” beomgyu said, putting a hand to his chest like he was in shock. “is this the same y/n we know, or did someone replace her?”

“ha ha,” you said dryly, dropping your bag on the stairs. “you’re hilarious.”

“she’s just trying to make up for the shirt,” ryujin said, nodding toward your chest.

beomgyu squinted at the bold i love my ex print and groaned. “oh, for the love of — y/n, take it off.”

“you take it off,” you shot back, smirking.

“don’t tempt me,” he said, rummaging through his bag. after a moment, he pulled out a plain white t-shirt and tossed it at you. “here; you put this on before you embarrass yourself any further.”

you stared at the shirt for a moment, then sighed. “fine,” you pulled it over your head without argument, covering up the text that seemed to offend everyone.

“there,” he nodded in approval. “now you look like a normal human being.”

meanwhile, at the gazebo, minjeong had been watching the entire exchange. she frowned when she saw you cover up the shirt, though she didn’t know why it bothered her.

aeri, however, noticed immediately.

“jealous much?” aeri teased, smirking as she leaned back against the gazebo railing. “what, you miss being the one she’s obsessed with?”

“don’t be ridiculous,” minjeong’s tone was cool and dismissive. “i don’t care what she wears.”

“sure you don’t,” yizhuo chimed in, grinning. “you’ve been staring at her for the past five minutes.”

she rolled her eyes, pretending to focus on her phone. “you’re imagining things.”

“uh-huh,” aeri said, exchanging a knowing look with yizhuo.

she ignored them, though her eyes flickered back to you just in time to see you grab your skateboard. you and beomgyu were at it again, attempting flips and tricks on the stairs while yeji and ryujin sat nearby, shaking their heads.

“she’s going to hurt herself,” minjeong muttered, though no one seemed to hear her.

and then, as if on cue, it happened. you misjudged your footing on a landing, and the skateboard flew out from under you. you went down hard, hitting the edge of the stairs with a sickening thud.

“shit,” ryujin said, scrambling to her feet as yeji gasped.

from where she sat, minjeong’s heart skipped a beat. before she realised what she was doing, she was already standing up, her eyes locked on your crumpled form at the bottom of the stairs.

“relax,” jimin mumbled, crossing her arms. “your ex can handle it. and dumped her, remember? don’t act like you care now.”

but she didn’t respond. she couldn’t take her eyes off you, her mind racing with worry even as she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t her problem anymore.

“jesus christ, y/n,” beomgyu muttered as he crouched down beside you, pulling his bag off his back and rummaging through it with the urgency of a paramedic. “you’ve really outdone yourself this time. does it hurt? of course it hurts. what a stupid question.”

“it’s fine,” you said through gritted teeth, clutching your ribs as you tried to sit up. the sharp sting that shot through your side made you wince and you slumped back down against the cold stone of the stairs.

“yeah, fine. sure,” he said sarcastically. “you only fell from, what, three metres? you’re totally fine.”

“shut up, gyu,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“oh, don’t worry,” he said, pulling a freezing cold gatorade bottle out of his bag. “i’m about to help you,” without any warning, he pressed the icy bottle directly against your ribs.

you let out a shriek, the pain sharp and immediate. “what the fuck, beomgyu?!”

“what?” he asked innocently, holding the bottle in place. “it’s cold therapy. helps with the swelling.”

“it’s called torture!” you yelled, trying to shove his hand away.

��stop being dramatic,” he said, but he moved the bottle, finally giving you a moment to breathe.

ryujin crouched next to you, her hands on her hips as she stared at you like a disappointed parent. “you’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“it wasn’t that bad of a fall,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“you’ve got to stop pulling stunts like this,” she said, shaking her head. “your bones can only take so much abuse before they just give up.”

“and then what?” yeji interjected, crossing her arms as she stared down at you. “you’ll end up in the hospital and we’ll have to explain to the doctors that you’re failing uni because you spend all your time skating and crying over your ex.”

at the mention of her, your stomach twisted. “don’t bring her into this,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, we’re bringing her into this,” yeji said, crouching down to your level. “because, let’s be honest, half the reason you’re acting like an idiot lately is because of minjeong.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

“she’s right, though,” ryujin added, her tone softer this time. “you’ve been in your head about her since the breakup. it’s messing you up.”

“it’s not about her,” you lied, though the lump in your throat betrayed you. you hated that they were right. hated that even now, with pain radiating through your ribs, your thoughts still drifted to her.

you hated minjeong. or at least, you wanted to. you hated the way she made everything look so easy and you hated the way she walked around like she owned the world, like nothing and no one could touch her.

most of all, you hated the way she looked at you. because even now, even after everything, you swore there was something in her eyes that told you she still cared.

and that, more than anything, made you feel sick.

“y/n?” ryujin’s voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. she was staring at you, her brow furrowed in concern. “are you crying?”

“what? no,” you said quickly, wiping at your face. but the tears were there, hot and unwelcome.

“you are,” yeji pointed, her tone softening. “y/n, what’s wrong? is it your ribs?”

“no,” you said, shaking your head. “it’s…it’s just —” your voice cracked, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “stupid fucking bitch, why does she have to look so pretty all the time?”

“who?” beomgyu asked, confused.

“minjeong,” yeji said quietly, her expression softening. “she’s talking about minjeong.”

of course you were. even now, when you should have been focusing on your physical pain, she was the only thing on your mind.

“alright, don’t fucking piss me off,” ryujin groaned abruptly, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “we’re skipping the rest of the day.”

“what?” yeji asked, glancing between you and ryujin. “you serious?”

“dead serious,” ryujin answered. “we’re taking her to joe’s juice joint, and we’re drinking her heart out until she forgets minjeong ever existed.”

“now that’s a plan,” beomgyu said, grinning. “i’m in.”

“guys, i’m fine,” you protested weakly, but ryujin wasn’t having it.

“nope,” she said, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. “you’re coming, no arguments. consider this an intervention.”

reluctantly, you let them guide you down the stairs. every step sent a fresh wave of pain through your ribs but you gritted your teeth and kept moving. anything was better than sitting around and wallowing in self-pity.

as you passed by the gazebo, you didn’t spare minjeong or her clique a single glance. but you could feel her eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, like she was trying to read your mind from across the courtyard.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice rang out from the gazebo, loud and teasing. “anything broken?”

“just my ego,” you mumbled without looking up.

she cackled, clearly delighted. “you skipping class again? what is this, the third time this week?”

“fourth,” ryujin told her with a smirk. “and yeah, we’re heading to joe’s. you want to join us after your class?”

the girl raised an eyebrow, glancing at minjeong, whose frown deepened. “tempting,” she said, still grinning. “might just take you up on that.”

“we’ll be there all night,” ryujin winked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from the weight of your ex-girlfriend’s gaze.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first day, it was easy for minjeong to ignore your absence. people skipped class all the time; it wasn’t a big deal. you were probably out skating somewhere or doing something equally idiotic and irresponsible.

she really told herself she didn’t care. she spent the lecture dutifully taking notes, her pen gliding smoothly across the page, her expression calm and collected.

yet as the minutes dragged on, she caught herself glancing at the door more often than she wanted to admit. no loud entrance, no skateboard clattering against the floor, no offhand comment that made half the class groan and the other half laugh. the room felt…off.

too quiet.

“focus,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. this was good. peace and quiet was good.

but the uneasy feeling lingered.

the second day was harder.

she arrived to class early as always, settling into her usual seat. she pulled out her notebook and began skimming through her notes, but her focus wavered. every time the door opened, her eyes flickered up instinctively, only to be met with someone else’s face.

not a sight of you.

again?

she hated how much it bothered her. hated the little knot forming in her stomach, the way her pen hovered idly in her hand as she stared at the empty seat you usually occupied. it wasn’t like she cared.

“you alright?” aeri asked during lunch, raising an eyebrow as she leaned across the table. “you’re kind of…off today.”

“i’m fine,” minjeong said curtly, stabbing at her salad with her fork.

“you don’t look fine,” jimin pressed, clearly amused. “what’s got you all grumpy?”

“nothing,” she replied, her tone sharp enough to make them smirk.

“is it because of y/n?” jimin asked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “you’ve been weird since she stopped showing up.”

“i haven’t been weird,” she snapped, glaring at her.

“you totally have,” yizhuo pointed out, leaning back in her chair. “you’ve been frowning nonstop for two days. it’s honestly kind of funny.”

“maybe you should just ask her friends where she is,” jimin suggested casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “wouldn’t it put your mind at ease?”

“i don’t care where she is,” minjeong said rather quickly, her voice colder than she intended. “it’s none of my business.”

“sure it’s not,” aeri chuckled, exchanging a knowing look with jimin and yizhuo.

she didn’t dignify them with a response. instead, she stood abruptly, grabbing her bag and walking away. she hated how transparent she was, hated that her friends could see right through her.

but as much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care, the nagging unease wouldn’t go away. your absence felt like a puzzle piece out of place and she hated unsolved puzzles.

the fountain steps were as loud and chaotic as ever when minjeong approached, her unease simmering just beneath her calm exterior. she spotted your friends easily — beomgyu, ryujin and yeji sitting in their usual spot, laughing about something as he gestured wildly with his hands.

she hesitated for a moment, her pride warring with her curiosity. then, with a deep breath, she walked up to them, her expression carefully neutral.

the first to notice her was beomgyu, who immediately froze mid-gesture. “uh…” he blinked, clearly caught off guard. “can we help you?”

“where’s y/n?” she asked, cutting straight to the point. her tone was as cold as ever, but her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

ryujin raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with yeji. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she replied quickly, though the words felt hollow. “i just noticed she wasn’t in class. that’s all.”

“you noticed,” beomgyu said, leaning back with a grin. “interesting.”

“just answer the question,” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

ryujin sighed dramatically, leaning forward with a smirk. “well, since you’re so curious…she fainted at joe’s the other day, y’know, when she fell down these stairs.”

minjeong’s calm facade cracked. her eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening on her bag. “she fainted?”

“yeah,” ryujin said, her tone casual but her eyes glinting with amusement. “we were all hanging out, having a good time and then boom — she just collapsed.”

her stomach twisted. “collapsed?” her voice was quieter now, less sharp. “what?”

“yep,” yeji added, nodding solemnly. “we had to take her to the hospital. turns out she fractured a rib when she fell on the stairs.”

the words hit your ex-girlfriend like a punch to the gut. fractured a rib? the image of your fall replayed in her mind, but this time it felt sharper, more vivid. she could still hear the sickening thud of your body hitting the stairs, see the way you’d clutched your side in pain.

and now, knowing you hadn’t just brushed it off, that it was serious enough to land you in hospital, made minjeong’s chest ache in a way she didn’t like.

“so, there you go,” ryujin yawned, tilting her head. “your curiosity satisfied?”

she didn’t respond, choosing to turn on her heel and walk away — her mind racing. she told herself it didn’t matter.

you didn’t matter.

she stared blankly at her phone, her thumb idly scrolling through an endless feed of nothing. the sounds of her friends chatting around her faded into the background and she leaned back against the bench, her thoughts pulling her under.

she didn’t know why she broke up with you that day. no matter how many times she replayed the memory in her head, it never made sense. one moment, you were telling her some absurdly funny story about your boss — a ridiculous tale about how he had a deep-rooted fear of olives and couldn’t even look at a martini without panicking.

she remembered laughing at that, really laughed and it felt easy, like it always did with you. you’d grinned at her, bright and carefree; the kind of smile that felt like it was meant just for her.

and then, almost without thinking, she’d said it.

“i’m bored of you.”

the words had tumbled out of her mouth, cold and sharp, before she even realised what she was doing. she remembered the way your expression had faltered for the briefest of moments, like a flicker of a flame before it was snuffed out.

and then, as if to spite her, you’d smiled. laughed, even.

“cool. no worries,” you’d replied, your tone light and easy, like she hadn’t just ripped the ground out from under you.

but she saw the way your shoulders stiffened as you turned and walked away and for the first time, she had felt the weight of what she’d done.

she’d tried to convince herself it was the right choice. your relationship had been getting…too real.

a year was a long time, longer than she ever thought she’d spend with anyone. and with every passing day, you’d peeled back more and more of her walls, learning things about her that she didn’t even know she wanted to share.

it terrified her how easily you read her, how you’d figured her out like you were studying a map of her soul.

she hated it. hated that you could tell what kind of mood she was in just by the way she tapped her pen during lectures. hated that you knew her coffee order by heart, down to the extra splash of milk she only liked on rainy days. hated that you always noticed when she was struggling, even when she didn’t say a word.

she hated that she’d started to depend on you — because if you knew her so well, if you’d gotten that close, then it meant you had the power to hurt her in a way no one else ever had.

and minjeong didn’t know if she could handle that.

so, she’d broken things off. not gently, not in private, but in the loudest, cruelest way possible. if she made you hate her, if she pushed you far enough away, then maybe she could protect herself.

except you didn’t hate her.

you didn’t yell at her, or cry, or make a scene. you just…kept smiling. kept acting like it didn’t bother you, like you understood her better than she understood herself. and then, to her frustration, you started chasing her. showing up to class wearing ridiculous shirts, making jokes loud enough for her to hear and skating around like you didn’t have a care in the world.

it drove her insane.

it wasn’t fair. she’d ended things because she needed distance, needed to feel in control again, and here you were, acting like you could still get under her skin whenever you wanted.

she clenched her jaw, staring down at her phone. the image of you sitting in the hospital, clutching your ribs and pretending it didn’t hurt, flashed in her mind.

you were so stubborn, so reckless, and it infuriated her that she still cared.

“you okay?” yizhuo’s voice cut through her thoughts, and minjeong looked up, realising she’d been silent for too long.

“fine,” she muttered, but the word felt hollow.

“you don’t look fine,” aeri teased, leaning closer. “what’s got you so worked up? your ex again?”

minjeong’s jaw tightened. she hated how easily her friends could read her, hated that she was so transparent. “no,” she answered sharply.

“uh-huh,” jimin said, smirking. “sure it’s not.”

she ignored them, turning her focus inward again. you needed to stop chasing her, stop showing up with that stupid grin that made her chest ache in ways she didn’t want to think about.

maybe if she made it clear that she’d moved on, you’d finally back off. you were proud, after all — too proud to stick around if you thought she was interested in someone else.

an idea formed in her mind, one she didn’t entirely like but couldn’t shake.

maybe i should be seen with someone else in front of her.

if you saw her laughing with someone else, leaning in close, maybe even touching their arm, you’d get the message.

she exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. it would hurt you — she knew that.

but wasn’t that the point? if hurting you meant protecting herself, wasn’t it worth it?

minjeong opened her eyes, her decision made. she’ll stop. she has to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you were already regretting coming in. every step you took through the halls felt heavier, slower, like the whispers around you were dragging you down. usually, the energy on campus buzzed with something familiar — greetings, smiles and nods of acknowledgment as people called out your name.

today, however, there was a sudden shift. people were staring, their hushed voices following you like shadows.

you weren’t used to this. the stares weren’t friendly; they were curious, cautious, like you were some sort of sideshow spectacle.

your mind raced with questions as the weight of their gazes pressed on you: what the fuck have i done now?

“you should’ve stayed home,” ryujin muttered from beside you, her arms crossed and her pace slowing to match yours. “seriously, what are you even doing here?”

“i have to try,” you mumbled, not meeting her gaze. the ache in your ribs flared with every step, but you forced yourself to keep walking. “if i don’t, i’ll have to repeat. and that’s more embarrassing than walking around like this.”

she sighed, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t. the pain was bad enough, but the whispers and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach made it worse. you tried to focus on getting to class, on anything but the way people seemed to glance at you and then quickly look away.

when you finally reached the lecture hall of your evidence class, yeji was waiting near the entrance, her arms crossed. the moment she saw you, she walked up and grabbed your wrist. “come on.”

“what —” you started, but yeji was already pulling you toward the front of the room, far from your usual spot in the back.

“why are we sitting here?” you frowned, glancing back at ryujin, who followed silently, her expression unreadable.

“just trust me,” yeji mumbled, her tone firm as she steered you into a seat in the front row. “you’ll thank me later.”

heaving out a sigh, you didn’t argue. your ribs throbbed as you sank into the chair and you focused on pulling out your notebook and pen, determined to make it through the lecture. you began to scribble notes as it began, your mind too foggy with pain to think about anything else.

direct. circumstantial. hearsay.

until your pen slipped out of your fingers and clattered to the floor behind you.

groaning in pain, you turned slowly, twisting just enough to grab it. when you looked up, the sight in the back of the room hit you harder than the fall that fractured your rib.

minjeong was sitting next to sungchan. not just sitting — close. too close. her body angled toward him, her arm resting on the desk between them, the space so small it might as well not have fucking existed. his stupid smile stretched across his face as he leaned toward her, saying something that made her chuckle softly.

the only thing rooted in place was disbelief as your breath caught in your throat. your fingers froze around the pen. it wasn’t just that they were sitting together; it was the way they looked. comfortable. familiar. like this wasn’t the first time.

what the fuck?

ryujin noticed the change in your expression immediately. “y/n?” she whispered, nudging your arm gently. “hey, you good?”

but you weren’t good. you were anything but good. the pain in your ribs was nothing compared to the ache that spread through your chest like wildfire.

your gaze flickered back to the front, but it was too late. the damage was done. the rest of the lecture passed in a haze, your pen barely moving across the page. you couldn’t focus, all you could see was minjeong and sungchan, sitting together like they belonged there, like she hadn’t asked about you just days ago.

so this is what she wanted, you thought bitterly, your jaw clenched so tight it ached.

some time alone so sungchan could sweep her off her feet?

you thought she cared. you really thought that despite her cold front towards you, that there was still something there, but apparently, you’d been wrong.

she didn’t even glance your way. not once. she stayed glued to him the entire lecture, her quiet laughter ringing faintly in your ears like a cruel reminder.

when the class ended, you packed your things in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. you didn’t say a word to ryujin or yeji as you walked out, the hollow ache in your chest growing with every step.

she doesn’t care, you told yourself. she never did.

the thought didn’t stop the sting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the walk to your next class was excruciatingly quiet. too quiet. beomgyu was by your side, matching your pace as the two of you moved through the crowded hallway, but he didn’t say much.

for once, the usual chatter and easy jokes he always carried with him were absent, lips pressed into a thin line, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie — like he was trying to make himself invisible.

he’d noticed, of course. he always did. you’d seen minjeong and sungchan together in the last lecture and it had sucked the life out of you. he’d seen the way your expression had darkened, the fire in your eyes replaced with something duller; something he didn’t like.

you were a ticking time bomb. and he was scared.

“you okay?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant.

you nodded, your eyes focused on the floor ahead of you. “fine.”

he didn’t believe you, not for a second, but he didn’t push. instead, he tried to fill the silence with small talk, his usual coping mechanism.

“so,” he said, forcing a grin. “how’s the rib? still feel like your entire torso’s on fire, or is it more of a dull, stabbing pain now?”

normally, you’d have some kind of snarky remark for him, a sarcastic jab or a playful insult. but now, you just shrugged, your shoulders heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

beomgyu fell silent. it was rare for him to feel uncomfortable, but something about this version of you — quiet, almost lifeless, set him on edge.

the two of you walked into your tutorial room and took your seats. at least minjeong wasn’t here, but sungchan was. and even worse, he was sitting just a few rows behind you, loud enough for you to hear every word he was saying.

“yeah, man, she’s amazing,” sungchan was saying to one of his friends, his voice carrying across the room like nails on a chalkboard. “she’s smart, funny, gorgeous…i mean, i’m going to make her mine.”

your grip tightened around your pen.

“like, she’s not even cold, you know?” he continued, his tone insistent, as if he were the authority on minjeong’s personality. “she’s just…selective. she doesn’t waste her time on people who don’t deserve her.”

every word he said felt like a dagger, twisting deeper and deeper. he spoke about minjeong like he knew her, like he truly understood her and it made your stomach churn.

he doesn’t know her. he doesn’t.

then again, maybe he was right. maybe you didn’t deserve her. maybe you never had.

the tutorial on property law dragged on, every second stretching into an eternity. when it finally ended, you were the last to pack up, moving sluggishly as the room emptied around you. beomgyu hovered nearby, watching you like you might break at any moment.

“y/n,” professor anderson’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see professor anderson, her warm brown eyes filled with concern.

she was one of the few professors who actually seemed to care about her students, and she’d always had a soft spot for you, even if you were a pain in her class sometimes.

“yes, professor?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

she crossed her arms, leaning against her desk as she studied you. “you need to pull it together,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “i don’t know what’s going on with you, but whatever it is, you need to let it go. focus on yourself, not on…other distractions.”

you knew exactly what she meant, but you didn’t argue. instead, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i understand,” you said quietly. “thank you, professor.”

“you’re capable, y/n,” she added, her voice softening. “more than you realise. don’t waste that.”

you nodded again, murmuring a quiet “i’ll try” before walking out of the room.

beomgyu followed silently, his usual teasing absent as he guided you toward the stairs where your friends always hung out.

as you approached, your eyes drifted to the gazebo. there they were — minjeong, sungchan and the rest of her friends. he was sitting exactly where you used to sit sometimes, his arm casually draped along the back of the bench, leaning into her like he belonged there.

you looked away quickly, but the image was burned into your mind.

“don’t do anything stupid,” yeji started as you reached the stairs, her voice cutting through the haze in your mind. “seriously, y/n. you’ve already hurt yourself enough. don’t make it worse.”

“she’s right,” beomgyu added, sitting beside you. “minjeong’s made her feelings pretty clear, hasn’t she? maybe it’s time to…you know, let it go.”

you sat there for a moment, staring down at your hands. their words were harsh, but they weren’t wrong. she really had made it clear. over and over again, she’d shown you exactly where you stood in her life.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

yeji frowned. “okay?”

you exhaled, the weight of the past year pressing down on you like a tidal wave. “i give up on her.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you were drowning.

“it’s about time,” ryujin cut through the silence, her voice lacking its usual teasing edge.

beomgyu clapped a hand on your shoulder, his grin tentative but hopeful. “you’re gonna be okay, y/n.”

you nodded, your gaze drifting back to the gazebo for a moment before turning away. it still hurt, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start moving on.

but those words had barely left your mouth when the weight of everything hit you all at once. you thought saying it aloud would feel like some kind of release, a burden lifted.

instead, it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. the edges of your vision blurred as your chest tightened, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything around you.

you couldn’t breathe.

“y/n?” yeji’s voice came from somewhere far away, muffled and distant. “are you okay?”

your hands were trembling, your fingers curling into fists as you struggled to pull in air. your body felt too heavy, your chest heaving as you fought against the invisible weight pressing down on you.

“shit,” ryujin said, her voice sharp with alarm. “she’s having a panic attack.”

your ribs ached with every shallow breath, the pain only amplifying the sense of suffocation.

“y/n, look at me,” beomgyu called out calmly, crouching in front of you. his voice was steadier than the others, but you could hear the undercurrent of worry. “hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. just breathe, yeah? in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

the panic clawed at your chest, your mind spiralling as thoughts of minjeong, sungchan and everything else crashed over you like a wave.

ryujin grabbed your trembling hands, her grip firm but not forceful. “count with me,” she said, her voice low and steady. “one… two…three…”

the breaths came in short, rapid bursts, your body fighting against you as the world narrowed down to the sound of ryujin’s counting and beomgyu and yeji’s soft reassurances.

slowly, the edges of your vision began to clear, and the tightness in your chest eased just enough for you to take a deeper breath.

“that’s it,” beomgyu said, his voice filled with relief. “you’re doing great, y/n. keep going.”

it took a few more minutes, but eventually, the panic subsided. your breaths came slower, deeper, though your chest still ached from the effort.

“you scared the hell out of us,” ryujin said softly, her hands still holding yours.

“sorry,” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

“don’t apologise,” yeji said firmly. “just…god, y/n. you’ve been holding everything in for so long. you haven’t had one of those in awhile.”

the truth was, you weren’t okay. you hadn’t been for a long time, and today had pushed you past your breaking point.

“we’re taking you home,” beomgyu decided, standing up and offering you his hand. “no arguments.”

“what about your other lectures?” you asked, though the question came out half-heartedly. “i can go home by myself, i’ve gone to all of mine.”

“it can wait,” ryujin reassured, helping you to your feet. “you need to rest.”

as the three of them guided you away from the stairs, your eyes flickered back to the gazebo. she was still there, her laugh carrying faintly on the breeze as sungchan said something that made her smile.

she didn’t even notice — or at least, pretended not to.

it hurt, but for the first time, you let yourself turn away. maybe you didn’t know how to move on yet, but you knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

one step at a time, you’d figure it out eventually.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the past few days had been a blur of quiet determination. for once, you focused on your lectures, actually paying attention and, to your own surprise, getting the answers right. the professors had started to notice the shift, exchanging glances whenever you raised your hand or turned in a completed assignment.

even your friends had been treading lightly around you, unsure of what to make of the sudden change.

your skateboard hadn’t seen the light of day in a week, and your fractured rib was a constant, painful reminder to take things slow. the ache kept you grounded, pulling you out of your thoughts whenever they strayed too far toward the past — or toward her.

you told yourself you were doing better. and maybe you were.

but then came criminal law and your tutorial; the one you dreaded the most and gotten into trouble for. the memory of that confrontation still made you cringe, but you were determined to avoid any repeat incidents today.

when professor cho announced that you’d be pairing up for an activity, your stomach dropped. random pairings. your gut churning. there were over fifty people in this class. surely your odds weren’t that bad. surely the universe wouldn’t —

“l/n and kim,” she announced and you felt your heart sink into your stomach.

there was no point protesting. she didn’t entertain negotiations when it came to her pairing system.

you didn’t look at her as you packed up your things and moved to sit beside her. minjeong was already there, her posture as perfect and poised as ever, her notebook open and a pen twirling idly between her fingers.

she glanced at you as you sat down, but you kept your eyes on your notes.

“so,” she began, her voice low and cautious. “let’s —”

“yes, let’s just get this over with,” you interrupted, your tone curt as you flipped through your notes. “assuming we both know the answers, this shouldn’t take long.”

she blinked, taken aback. she wasn’t used to this. wasn’t used to you being cold, distant. it was disarming, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

“how’s your rib?” she asked after a minute of silence, her voice quieter.

“fine,” you said shortly, not looking up and you rammed through your lecture notes.

she frowned, her eyes flickering to your hands. your fingers were trembling slightly, just enough to be noticeable if someone was paying attention.

she was paying attention.

“are you sure —“

“can we focus on the activity, please?” you cut her off, your tone sharper now. “i don’t want to waste time.”

the task was straightforward: analyse the implications of marbury v. madison on the separation of powers and judicial authority. a list of guiding questions were already provided.

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t push further. the two of you worked through the questions in near silence, your answers quick and precise, leaving no room for small talk. every time she tried to make a comment or ask something unrelated, you shut her down with a clipped response.

“okay, yeah, how did chief justice marshall justify the court’s authority to strike down laws?” minjeong asked, her tone professional, detached.

“his argument was that it was inherent in the role of the judiciary to interpret the constitution,” you replied flatly, not meeting her eyes. “and that any law conflicting with the constitution was void.”

she nodded, writing down your response. her attempt at making small comments, asking for your opinion on certain nuances of the case were shut down with brief, matter-of-fact answers.

aeri, sitting a few seats away, was clearly enjoying the show. she leaned back in her chair, smirking as she whispered something to jimin, who chuckled quietly.

minjeong cleared her throat, watching you write her answers down. “any plans for the weekend?”

you stopped writing, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at her. “seriously?”

when you brushed off another one of her attempts at conversation, aeri let out a low laugh that carried just enough for you both to hear. “looks like someone’s getting a taste of their own medicine.”

minjeong shot her a glare but didn’t say anything. she turned back to you, watching as you scribbled the last answer onto your notes with an almost mechanical efficiency.

“we’re done,” you said flatly, closing your notebook. you didn’t even look at her as you packed up your things, already half-turned away.

“wait,” minjeong said, her voice firmer this time.

you paused, your jaw clenching as you slowly turned back to face her. “what now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asked, her brows furrowed in frustration. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at her, disbelief flashing across your face. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she said quickly, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her. “i just think we should be civil. we have to share classes, and —”

“civil?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “you want to be civil? fine. here’s me being civil: i don’t want anything to do with you. so why don’t you go bother your boyfriend instead?”

her eyes widened, stunned into silence for a moment. “boyfriend?”

“sungchan,” you said, spitting his name like it was poison. “you know, the guy who’s been practically glued to your side?”

her mouth opened, but no words came out. she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain that sungchan wasn’t anything to her, that she didn’t even like him like that.

yet, the way you were looking at her — hurt and angry and tired — made her chest ache in a way she shouldn’t ignore.

“just leave me alone, minjeong,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “you’ve already made it clear how little i mean to you.”

and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving her sitting there, her thoughts a tangled mess of regret and confusion.

aeri, who’d been watching the whole exchange, let out a low whistle. “damn, winter. you really fucked this one up.”

she didn’t respond. she just sat there, staring at the spot where you’d been, her hands clenched into fists as she tried to make sense of the hollow feeling in her chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sheer audacity of minjeong to ask you what was wrong after everything. it wasn’t just the question itself; it was the nerve of her, acting as if she cared when she clearly didn’t.

you couldn’t shake the anger. no matter how many hours passed, no matter how much you tried to focus on anything else, it kept bubbling up, simmering just beneath the surface.

“can you believe her?” you said, gesturing wildly as ryujin, yeji and beomgyu listened, clearly trying not to laugh. “what’s your problem? she has the nerve to ask me that, like she doesn’t know exactly what my problem is!”

“to be fair,” ryujin sighed, leaning back on her elbows. “you didn’t exactly give her much to work with.”

“yeah, well, she didn’t deserve anything from me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “if she wanted me to talk, maybe she should’ve thought about that before…ugh, before being her stupid idiot self.”

beomgyu snorted. “solid argument, y/n. very lawyer-like.”

you rolled your eyes, but it only made you more animated. “and the worst part? she keeps pretending like she wants to be civil. civil! like we’re strangers passing in the hall. how does she expect me to just…just—” you waved your hands in frustration, “pretend nothing ever happened?”

“you’re really letting this eat at you,” yeji snorted, glancing toward the gazebo. “but hey, at least sungchan isn’t around today. small mercies, right?”

you stopped for a second at her words, if you’d had to see him sitting there next to minjeong again, smiling like he’d already won, you might have actually lost your sanity.

“yeah,” you muttered. “thank god for that.”

“so,” beomgyu said, smirking, “when are we moving on to the part where you stop caring?”

“don’t hold your breath,” ryujin quipped, earning a laugh from yeji.

you were mid-rant again, mocking minjeong’s indifferent expression and her painfully polite tone, when someone tapped your shoulder lightly.

startled, you turned around, expecting one of your friends, or worse, another professor.

instead, it was danielle marsh — one of the girls who shamefully, on your part, tutored you occasionally.

“hey,” she said softly, her warm smile immediately catching you off guard. she was carrying a tray with coffee cups and a few neatly wrapped sandwiches.

“danielle?” you said, blinking in surprise. she was a year below you, someone you didn’t know very well aside from occasional nods in the hall. “uh, hi?”

“i, um, saw you hurt your rib the other day,” she stammered, holding out the sandwiches for you. “so, minji and i made this for you this morning. figured you might need it.”

for a second, you just stared at her, completely thrown. “you made this for me?”

“yeah,” she said, looking a little shy now. “well, for all of you, really.” she glanced at your friends, smiling. “thought you could all use a pick-me-up.”

your friends didn’t hesitate to take the offered sandwiches and coffee, immediately diving into grateful thank-yous.

“seriously, danielle,” you said, standing up and pulling her into a gentle hug, careful not to press on your rib. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“it’s nothing,” she laughed softly as she hugged you back. “i just hope you feel better soon, yeah?”

“thanks,” you said, pulling away and meeting her kind eyes. “really, thank you. this means a lot.”

she waved it off with a bright smile. “anytime,” and with that, she walked off, leaving you and your friends with her thoughtful gesture.

the moment she was out of earshot, your friends pounced.

“well,” ryujin drawled, raising an eyebrow. “that was adorable.”

“and unexpected,” yeji added, already unwrapping her sandwich. “she made this for you? i mean, for all of us, sure, but for you?”

“you’re getting girls faster than we thought,” beomgyu teased, grinning. “maybe danielle’s your new start? or minji?”

you groaned, but their teasing was infectious, and for the first time in days, you found yourself laughing. “fuck off you all.”

“just saying,” ryujin shot back, smirking. “if this is what moving on looks like, i’m here for it.”

meanwhile, from the gazebo, minjeong watched the entire interaction. she’d seen danielle approach you, watched as she handed you coffee and sandwiches, her smile soft and genuine. she saw the way you hugged her, your expression lighter than it had been all week.

she hated how it made her feel.

yizhuo, sitting beside her, noticed immediately. “jealous?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“no,” minjeong denied, her voice sharper than she intended.

“uh-huh,” the younger girl smirked. “sure you’re not.”

she didn’t want to admit it — not even to herself, but the gnawing feeling in her chest was unmistakable.

it was jealousy, plain and simple. and it had started the moment she saw danielle hand you those coffees and sandwiches, her smile bright and genuine as she looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

it wasn’t fair. you weren’t supposed to move on so quickly. not when minjeong had spent months convincing herself she didn’t care anymore, that you were just a chapter of her life she’d already closed. but watching someone else care for you made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t like.

“so,” jimin began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity as she leaned against the gazebo railing. “danielle, huh?”

minjeong stiffened. “what about her?”

“oh, nothing,” she laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “just that she’s kind of adorable. and from what i’ve heard, she’s, like, the nicest person ever. super smart, super talented. makes sense she’d go for y/n, honestly.”

“she is not going for y/n,” minjeong snapped.

aeri raised her eyebrows. “hmm, interesting reaction.”

“oh, please,” yizhuo chuckled as she looked up from her phone. “you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“i’m not jealous,” she insisted, but her voice lacked conviction.

aeri leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her smile faded slightly. “minjeong, if you’re just going to play with y/n’s feelings, leave her alone. seriously. she’s trying to move on and you need to let her.”

“i’m not playing with her feelings,” she protested, though the guilt was already clawing at her.

jimin scoffed, crossing her arms. “really? because the way you dumped her in front of everyone was pretty brutal. honestly, you’re lucky she didn’t punch you in the face.”

“she didn’t because she’s too nice for her own good,” yizhuo chimed in, her smirk widening. “but honestly, if she did, i’d have cheered her on — we liked y/n.”

minjeong clenched her jaw, her gaze dropping to the table. she didn’t need the reminder of how badly she’d handled things. she knew she’d been cruel and pushed you away in the worst possible way, all because she was scared.

“look,” jimin softened her tone. “you’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling, but don’t mess with y/n. she doesn’t deserve that — she chased you for a long time.”

before she could even respond, a loud, overly cheerful voice interrupted them.

“minjeong!”

she turned to see sungchan bounding toward them, a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers in hand.

her friends groaned in unison and jimin buried her face in her hands. “fuck’s sake, can you get rid of that cretin already? we let him sit here, once. and nothing more.”

“what now?” aeri muttered, glaring at the boy as he stopped in front of them, his grin blinding.

“i brought you these,” he said, holding out the flowers with a flourish. “thought they might brighten your day.”

minjeong blinked, completely caught off guard. “uh…”

“sungchan,” jimin interrupted, her voice dripping with annoyance, “we’re kind of in the middle of something. can you not?”

“yeah,” aeri added, ushering for him to leave. “serious conversation happening here. come back later. or maybe never.”

he frowned, clearly disappointed, but he turned to minjeong anyway. “wait, so…can i still come over tonight?”

right on time as you walked past the gazebo, your bag slung over your shoulder, steps faltering for a split second, your head turning just enough to catch sight of the flowers in sungchan’s hand and the hopeful look on his face.

your expression darkened, your brows furrowing as you looked away quickly and kept walking. but she saw it — the flash of hurt that crossed your face, so brief she might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching you so closely.

her chest tightened, guilt mixing with panic. without thinking, she stood up abruptly, ignoring her friends’ surprised looks.

“wait,” she called after you, her voice louder than she intended. “y/n!”

she caught up to you in a few quick strides, falling into step beside you as you kept walking.

then, you stopped abruptly, refusing to face her. “what do you want?” you asked, your tone flat and cold.

“i just…” she hesitated, struggling to find the right words as she turned towards you. “it’s not what it looked like.”

your expression was a mixture of anger and exhaustion, your eyes narrowing slightly. “what are you talking about?”

“sungchan,” she said quickly. “he’s not — i didn’t…he’s not coming over tonight. or any night. he’s not my boyfriend.”

“why do you think i care?” your voice cut through the air like a blade.

minjeong flinched, her chest tightening. she wanted to explain, to say something that would make this easier, but nothing came out. she hated the way your walls were so firmly in place now, blocking her out completely.

“you don’t have to explain yourself to me, minjeong,” you said, your voice softer now but no less firm. “we’re nothing to each other anymore. remember?”

you didn’t wait for her to respond. you turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts a tangled mess of longing.

from the gazebo, jimin let out a low sigh, shaking her head as she watched the scene unfold. “she’s really not handling this well, is she?”

“nope,” aeri sighed. “but it’s fun to watch.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, you were back in routine; or at least, you were trying to be. the faint ache in your ribs had dulled to something manageable and you’d thrown yourself into lectures and tutorials with a determination that surprised even you.

your professors had started making comments, subtle acknowledgments of your sudden focus and improvement but none of it felt particularly satisfying.

then the rumour started.

“did you hear?” ryujin’s voice broke through the usual buzz of the courtyard as she dropped her bag on the stairs next to you. yeji and beomgyu followed close behind, their expressions a mix of concern and hesitation.

“hear what?” you asked, not looking up from your notebook. you were halfway through an analysis of some case law, trying to keep your mind occupied.

“about minjeong,” ryujin said, her tone careful, like she was stepping on eggshells. “we want you to hear it from us.”

your hand froze mid-sentence. “what about her?”

“uh…” yeji exchanged a glance with beomgyu, who grimaced and shoved his hands in his pockets. “apparently, she said yes to sungchan.”

the pen slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the page. for a moment, you just stared at it, your mind blank. then you picked it up and calmly closed your notebook.

“oh,” you said, your voice eerily even. “good for her.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you okay?”

“yep,” you stuffed your notebook into your bag and stood up, slinging it over your shoulder. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“oh, i don’t know,” beomgyu said, crossing his arms. “maybe because the girl you’ve been in love with for, like, two years just said yes to a guy who literally makes his hair gel do all the work.”

“beomgyu,” yeji hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“what? i’m just saying,” he muttered, but he backed off when ryujin shot him a warning look.

“it’s okay to feel defeated, you know,” ryujin said, her voice gentler now. “angry, even. god knows you tried your best to win her back.”

you sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples. “look, i’m fine. it’s whatever. she can date whoever she wants. i don’t care.”

“okay,” they were clearly unconvinced.

but you didn’t respond. instead, you turned and walked away, leaving your friends watching after you with varying degrees of concern. you didn’t go to your classes that day.

instead, you found yourself in the library, tucked away in a quiet corner with a stack of books and your notes spread out in front of you. studying was easier than thinking about stupid rumours.

meanwhile, across campus, minjeong was sitting with her friends at the gazebo when yizhuo casually dropped the bomb.

“so, when were you going to tell us?” she asked, leaning back in her chair with a sly grin.

“tell you what now?” minjeong asked, frowning.

“about you and sungchan,” she answered, raising an eyebrow. “i heard you said yes to being his girlfriend.”

she froze in her spot, quick to turn her head. “what now?”

“oh, come on,” aeri rolled her eyes. “everyone’s talking about it. apparently, sungchan told some of his friends and now it’s all over campus.”

“that’s not true, i’ll fucking punch him,” she said quickly, her voice rising slightly. “i didn’t say yes to him. i didn’t even —” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “this is getting out of hand.”

jimin raised an eyebrow as she crossed her legs, reapplying her lipstick. “so you’re not dating him?”

“no!” minjeong exasperated. “of course not.”

“well, you might want to clear that up,” yizhuo giggled. “because your rumoured boyfriend is basking in the glory right now.”

“ugh,” she muttered, standing up abruptly. “this is so stupid.”

“where are you going?” aeri called after her.

“to fix this,” minjeong yelled over her shoulder, already walking away.

as she made her way across campus, her thoughts weren’t on sungchan or the rumour. they were on you. if the rumour had reached her, it had definitely reached you.

and she didn’t like the idea of you believing it for even a second.

it didn’t take long to find you. the library was one of the few places on campus where you could completely disappear these days, and sure enough, there you were, hunched over a pile of books in a quiet corner.

minjeong hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. your head was bent over your notes, your brows furrowed in concentration, but even from here, she could see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pen moved too quickly, like you were trying to outrun your thoughts.

“y/n,” she said softly as she approached.

you didn’t look up. “what do you want, minjeong?”

“i need to talk to you,” she muttered, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down before you could protest.

“i’m busy,” your voice cold as you flipped a page in your notebook.

“it’s about what’s being said about me,” she began quickly, leaning forward. “the one about sungchan.”

that made you pause. your pen hovered over the page, but you didn’t look at her. “what about it?”

“it’s not true,” she tried to reassure you. “i didn’t say yes to him — i barely fucking know him.”

you finally looked up, your eyes meeting hers with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “why are you telling me this?”

“because i don’t want you to think —” she stopped, her words catching in her throat. “i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“minjeong,” you sighed, your tone tired, “you broke up with me. in front of everyone. you don’t owe me explanations about your love life.”

“i know,” she mumbled. “but i wanted to tell you anyway.”

you stared at her for a moment, your expression unreadable, before shaking your head and turning back to your notes. “thanks for the clarification. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have actual work to do.”

“okay.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “okay?”

minjeong hesitated, her chest tightening as she watched you retreat further behind your wall, but she didn’t know what else to say.

so she stood up, her hands clenched at her sides and walked away, leaving you alone in the quiet hum of the library.

she had made it halfway back to the gazebo when her steps faltered. the way she replayed your cold, clipped tone in her head bothered her.

she told herself to keep walking, to let it go. you clearly wanted nothing to do with her and it was too late for her to fix anything, but the thought of leaving things like this didn’t sit right with her.

“fuck it,” minjeong muttered under her breath, turning on her heel. she was already moving before she could second-guess herself.

the library was quieter than before when she slipped back inside. she spotted you almost immediately, still in the same spot, hunched over your notebook with a pen in hand. the tension in your posture hadn’t eased, and your lips were pressed into a thin line as you stared down at the pages in front of you.

she didn’t think. she walked straight to your table, stopping just short of your line of sight. her hands balled into fists at her sides, but her voice was calm when she spoke.

“what are you studying for?”

you froze for a moment before lifting your head slowly, your eyes narrowing as they met hers. “why are you back?”

“i’m curious,” she said, her voice steady as she gestured to the pile of books and notes on your desk. “what are you working on?”

you stared at her for a moment longer, clearly debating whether or not to engage. finally, with a sigh, you relented. “contracts,” you muttered, flipping through a set of messy notes. “specifically offer and acceptance. and it doesn’t make sense. i don’t get it.”

her lips quirked upward, just slightly, and before you could protest, she pulled out the chair across from you and sat down.

“show me what you’ve got,” she said, leaning forward and pulling one of your books toward her.

“minjeong, don’t,” you warned, but there wasn’t much heat in your voice. “it’s embarrassing enough that danielle, who’s a year below me, had to explain half of this stuff to me the other day. i don’t need my ex-girlfriend doing the same.”

“so?” she hummed, her voice calm in that matter-of-fact tone of hers. “i know you, she doesn’t.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. before you could form a rebuttal, she was already flipping through your notes, scanning the pages with a practiced eye.

“okay,” she began, her tone shifting into something softer, more focused. “let’s start with offer and acceptance. it’s the foundation of any valid contract, right?”

you nodded hesitantly.

“an offer is essentially a promise or commitment to do something, or refrain from doing something that’s communicated to another party,” she explained. “acceptance, on the other hand, is the agreement to the terms of that offer. it has to be clear and communicated back to the person who made the offer.”

you watched as she grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began sketching out a quick diagram, breaking the concept into manageable chunks. “think of it like this: aeri makes an offer to jimin. for it to become a binding contract, jimin has to accept it. if she doesn’t, there’s no agreement.”

“as if jimin would ever accept anything, but go on,” you frowned, glancing at your notes. “what about when an acceptance comes with conditions? like, if jimin says ‘yes, but only if you deliver by friday.’ doesn’t that count as acceptance?”

“good question,” minjeong said, nodding. “that’s actually a counteroffer, not acceptance. a counteroffer effectively rejects the original offer and replaces it with a new one. the original offer is no longer valid unless aeri agrees to the new terms.”

you blinked, processing her words. for the first time all day, the tangled mess of legal jargon in your head started to untangle itself.

“okay, but what about silence?” you asked, leaning forward slightly despite yourself. “like, if aeri threatens jimin with, ‘if you don’t respond, i’ll take that as acceptance.’ does that count?”

“generally, no,” she explained, almost laughing at your example. “silence isn’t considered acceptance. there are exceptions, though, like if there’s a prior relationship between the parties where silence has been treated as acceptance before but that’s pretty rare.”

you let out a low sigh, leaning back in your chair. “this is so annoying.”

“you’re doing fine,” she smiled, her tone reassuring as she slid the diagram she’d drawn across the table. “you’re overthinking it. contracts are just logic in disguise.”

“logic,” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “right. it’s totally logical to write 50 pages on whether saying ‘maybe’ counts as acceptance.”

minjeong chuckled softly and the sound caught you off guard. it was the first time in a long while that she didn’t sound distant or guarded.

“okay, fair,” she kept the smile on her face. “but you’re getting there. it’s not as bad as you think.”

you glanced down at the diagram she’d drawn, the pieces clicking into place in your mind. reluctantly, you muttered, “thanks.”

“anytime,” she answered, her voice soft.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the tension between you easing just slightly. but then you shook your head, a faint scowl tugging at your lips. “still doesn’t change the fact that this is humiliating.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head.

“because you’re my ex,” you said bluntly. “this is next-level embarrassing.”

minjeong shrugged, her expression calm. “i don’t see why it’s a big deal. i’ve seen worst. plus, we’ve been through this before.”

her words lingered in the air, heavier than you expected. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond, so you said nothing.

instead, you turned your attention back to the notes in front of you, your chest tightening with something you didn’t want to name.

she, however, didn’t press further. she stayed, patiently guiding you through the material until the frustration in your eyes gave way to understanding.

the library was much quieter now, with most of the tables empty and the hum of whispers and shuffling papers reduced to a faint background noise. as you packed up your things, minjeong stood by the door, waiting silently. the awkwardness between you had lessened, but it wasn’t entirely gone.

after all, she was still minjeong; cold, poised, and impossible to read — and you were still you, guarded and hesitant.

you slung your bag over your shoulder as you approached her. “thanks for the help,”

“you’re welcome,” she replied, her tone equally quiet.

the two of you stepped out into the hall together, the silence between you not entirely uncomfortable, but not warm either.

and then, as if the universe had decided to throw yet another curveball your way, you spotted danielle walking toward you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.

“y/n!” she called out, waving as she quickened her pace.

you stopped, your heart sinking slightly and it was not out of dread, but because you could already feel the tension radiating off minjeong beside you.

still, you smiled at danielle, grateful for her kindness. “hey, what’s up?”

“oh, nothing much,” she said, adjusting the strap of her backpack. “just wanted to see if you’re free after school. thought we could have another study session. you know, go over those case studies from contracts? i think i’ve got some good notes that might help.”

for a moment, your mind flickered back to the days when minjeong used to tutor you. the late nights in quiet study rooms, the way her calm explanations had made everything click.

it was hard not to draw parallels, but you quickly pushed the thought aside.

“yeah, sure,” you said with a nod. “that sounds good.”

danielle beamed and then her eyes shifted to minjeong, who had been standing silently beside you the entire time. her smile faltered slightly as she tilted her head. “oh, hi. i don’t think we’ve met.”

you hesitated for a split second before gesturing between them. “danielle, this is minjeong. minjeong, danielle.”

“hi!” danielle said brightly, extending a hand. “nice to meet you.”

she glanced at her hand briefly before giving it a polite shake, her expression cool and detached. “likewise.”

danielle didn’t seem fazed by her tone, her smile unwavering. “so, are you two friends?”

you opened your mouth to answer, but minjeong spoke first. “we’re classmates.”

her voice was so flat, so devoid of emotion, that it left no room for interpretation. danielle nodded, glancing at you as if to say, well, that was awkward.

“anyway,” she continued, turning back to you, “i’ll text you the details for later, okay?”

“sounds good,” you said, offering her a small smile. “thanks, danielle.”

“no problem,” she grinned. “see you later!”

with that, she waved and walked off, leaving you alone with minjeong once again. the silence that followed was heavier than before and when you turned to look at her, her expression was unreadable.

“what?” you asked, frowning slightly.

she didn’t respond immediately. her eyes lingered on the spot where danielle had been, her thoughts racing. she thought about the way the other girl had smiled at you, her kindness so effortless and genuine.

she thought about the way you’d smiled back, softer than you ever smiled at her these days.

and then, minjeong thought about herself; her coldness, her inability to open up, the walls she’d built so high that even you, someone who had once been so close, had struggled to climb them.

she thought about the way she’d hurt you, the way she pushed you away and how she kept coming back, unable to let go but unwilling to fully stay.

you deserve better.

the realisation hit her with a clarity she couldn’t ignore. you deserved someone who could match your warmth and meet you halfway without hesitation.

someone who didn’t leave you questioning your worth or your place in their life.

and minjeong knew, deep down, that she wasn’t that person.

“nothing,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “i’ll see you around, y/n.”

before you could respond, she turned and walked away, her steps brisk and purposeful.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the moment minjeong walked away, you brushed off the strange interaction as just another one of her weird moods, but the more you thought about it, the more it stuck in your head.

the way she’d been so quiet, her gaze distant, it was strange, even for her.

as you made your way to your next class, you couldn’t help but vent to yeji, who listened intently as she walked beside you.

“it was so weird,” you tried to explain. “she just stood there while danielle was talking to me. like, awkwardly silent the whole time. and then she walked away without saying anything, like — what was that?”

yeji snorted. “classic minjeong,” she said, rolling her eyes. “probably trying to act mysterious. you know, her usual icy queen routine — all the reason why her nickname’s winter.”

“i don’t get it, though,” you said, frowning. “she came back into the library just to help me with contracts and then she acted all…weird when danielle showed up.”

“maybe she’s jealous,” she suggested with a smirk.

“jealous?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “of what?”

“danielle; she sees you getting close to someone else and suddenly remembers she doesn’t like sharing.”

“that’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “minjeong doesn’t care about me like that anymore. she made that pretty clear when she dumped me in front of everyone.”

yeji shrugged. “maybe. or maybe she’s just realising what she lost.”

the thought lingered in the back of your mind as you reached your next class: professor diaz’s administrative lecture.

the room was already filling up with students when you walked in and minjeong was seated near the middle, often her usual spot. you hesitated for a split second when your eyes met hers, but you quickly looked away and took a seat beside yeji in the back row.

professor diaz walked in a moment later, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room as he placed his notes on the desk.

“good afternoon, everyone,” he started, tone brisk as always. “today, we’re starting a project that will require collaboration, critical thinking and presentation skills. it’s an activity that requires two members per team.”

you glanced at yeji, who gave you a small, sympathetic smile. you weren’t a fan of group projects, but you could survive it.

hopefully.

“partners have already been assigned,” he continued, flipping through a list of names. “i paired you based on complementary skills and previous performance. some of you might not like it, but tough luck.”

again, you slouched slightly in your seat, praying to every higher power you could think of that you wouldn’t end up with —

“y/n l/n and kim minjeong.”

you groaned quietly, earning a small laugh from the girl beside you. “tough break,” she whispered, smirking.

you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

you reluctantly made your way to the middle of the room, where minjeong was sitting, her expression unreadable as always. she didn’t look surprised to see you, which only annoyed you more.

“of course,” you muttered as you dropped into the seat beside her. “because who else would i get stuck with other than you?”

“nice to see you too,” she said dryly, flipping open her notebook.

professor diaz continued explaining the project from the front of the room. “we’re diving into the practical application of judicial review in administrative law, specifically focusing on procedural fairness and its two pillars: the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

he paced the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back. “your task is to analyse a hypothetical case, identify the grounds for judicial review and argue whether the administrative decision should be upheld or quashed; this project will span the next week or two, depending on how i feel. the final deliverable will include a written report and a joint presentation to the class.”

you collectively groaned with everyone else, pulling out your notes as you glanced at minjeong. “so,” you said flatly, “what case should we pick?”

“something straightforward,” she replied, her tone calm. “we don’t have time to overcomplicate this.”

“righto,” you said, opening your laptop. “let’s look at some recent cases.”

the two of you worked in tense silence for a few minutes, scrolling through legal databases and jotting down notes. the tension was palpable, hanging heavy between you. you could feel her gaze on you every now and then and it made your skin crawl.

“why do you think professor cho paired us?” you asked finally, breaking the silence.

“probably because your grades improved when i was tutoring you,” minjeong said matter-of-factly.

you glared at her, but she didn’t flinch. “well, that’s embarrassing.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “it’s the truth.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you quickly shook it off, refocusing on the project. “whatever. let’s just get this over with.”

minjeong didn’t respond, but she watched you carefully, her expression unreadable. you looked so beautiful.

as much as she tried to focus on the project, her mind kept drifting to one thought: you deserve better than this. better than me.

she didn’t say it. instead, she turned her attention back to the case in front of her, determined to at least help you succeed in this, even if it meant spending the next few days side by side.

the library became your designated meeting spot for the project, mostly because it was neutral ground. neither of you wanted to be in each other’s spaces and the library was safe and impersonal.

together, you worked in a tense but oddly productive silence during your free time, with occasional moments of begrudging cooperation when one of you needed clarification or feedback.

the first few sessions were uneventful, though the air between you was thick with unspoken words. minjeong would occasionally glance at you when she thought you weren’t looking, her gaze lingering just long enough for you to notice, but she never said anything about it.

it was during your third meeting that everything went sideways.

you were both seated at a table in one of the quieter corners of the library, surrounded by books and notes as you debated how to frame your analysis of the case.

minjeong had just finished explaining her point when a loud, overly enthusiastic voice shattered the peace.

“minjeong!”

you looked up, already cringing as sungchan approached your table, his usual grin plastered across his face. he was carrying a coffee cup in one hand and what looked like a wrapped pastry in the other.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone cool but tinged with annoyance.

“what does it look like?” he said, pulling up a chair uninvited and plopping down beside her. “i saw my favourite girl through the window and thought i’d bring you coffee. and a croissant. your favourite, right?”

she sighed, her eyes briefly flickering to you before landing back on his. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve got to eat, right? and who’s this?” he glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “oh…y/n, right?”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, we’re working on a project if you’ve got eyes.”

sungchan’s gaze darted between you and minjeong, his grin faltering just a little. “huh, weird pair. but then again…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “you two used to date, didn’t you?”

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything. you, on the other hand, just rolled your eyes. “what’s your point?”

“nothing,” he replied, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “just funny how things work out, isn’t it? i mean, you’re stuck working with her, and she —”

“sungchan,” minjeong interrupted, her voice sharp. “stop.”

he blinked, clearly caught off guard by her tone. then he laughed, shaking his head. “fine, fine. i’ll stop. but, you know, it’s interesting —”

“sungchan,” she repeated, firmer this. “leave. we’re busy.”

he didn’t leave. instead, he looked at her, then at you and back again. and then, with a smug grin, he said, “wait minjeong, i thought you said you never liked her.”

the words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. your stomach twisted, heart dropping into your chest as you stared at minjeong. she froze, her eyes widening slightly as she opened her mouth to respond.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you spoke for her, your voice low but sharp as you glared at sungchan.

“i’m just saying,” sungchan replied with a shrug, clearly oblivious to the tension he’d just created. “she told me she never really liked you. thought you’d have figured that out by now. why are you still sticking around?”

“sungchan,” minjeong snapped, her voice colder than ice now. “leave. now — before i knock your fucking teeth out of you.”

he finally seemed to realise he’d crossed a line, his grin faltering as he stood up. “jeez, okay. no need to bite my head off,” he set the coffee and croissant down on the table, muttering, “enjoy your project,” before walking off.

the silence that followed was deafening.

“did you really say that?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling just enough to betray how much it hurt.

she looked at you, her expression panicked for a split second before she forced herself to remain calm. “no,” she said firmly. “he’s lying. why would i do that?”

“so he just made that up?” you shot back, your tone harsher now. “out of nowhere?”

“yes,” she said, her voice steady but strained. “i never said that. i —” she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table. “i wouldn’t say that about you, ever.”

you scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “great, so now i’m supposed to believe that, what? he’s just running around making up lies about you?”

“i don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now. “but i didn’t say it. you have to believe me.”

you stared at her for a long moment, searching her face for any hint of insincerity but she looked genuinely upset, her usual mask of indifference cracking just enough for you to see the guilt and frustration beneath it.

“whatever,” you muttered finally, looking away. “let’s just finish this stupid project.”

minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but then she closed it again, her shoulders slumping slightly. for the rest of the session, neither of you spoke unless it was directly about the project.

the air between you was heavier than ever, weighed down by everything that had been said — and left unsaid.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you slammed your pen down on the table, the sharp sound cutting through the library’s quiet hum.

“do you think this is funny?” you snapped, your voice low but furious as you glared at her. “is this all just some game to you?”

she looked up, startled by your sudden outburst. “what are you talking about?”

“you,” you hissed, your chest heaving as your emotions boiled over. “you dump me in front of everyone, act like i don’t exist for months and now you’re back in my life, acting like you care? and on top of that, sungchan shows up and says you never liked me? are you fucking kidding me, minjeong?”

for once, she looked genuinely at a loss, her usual composure completely shattered.

“do you even realise how humiliating this is for me?” you continued, your voice trembling with anger. “i have been trying to move on, to forget about you and every time i feel like i’m getting somewhere, you show up and remind me of how much of an idiot i am for still caring about you!”

“you’re not an idiot,” she said quickly, her voice soft but desperate. “y/n, i —”

“then why?” you demanded, leaning forward, your eyes burning into hers. “why did you break up with me like that? why do you keep showing up, acting like you care and then pulling shit like this?”

minjeong stared at you, her jaw tight, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, you thought she wouldn’t answer. then, she exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair.

“because i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i was scared then and i’m scared now.”

you blinked, thrown off by her sudden vulnerability. “scared of what?”

“of how much you mean to me,” she said, her gaze dropping to the table. “of how much you’ve always meant to me. y/n, when we were together, you…you saw right through me. you knew me better than anyone else ever has and it terrified me. because if you could do that, if you could get that close, then you could hurt me in ways no one else ever could.”

her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard before continuing. “so i pushed you away. i thought if i ended it, if i made you hate me, then i could protect myself but all i did was hurt you, and i hate myself for that.”

you stared at her, your anger fading into something closer to disbelief. “you broke up with me in front of everyone.”

“i know,” she trembled. “i know and it was cruel and i’ll never forgive myself for it. but i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean any of it. i thought if i made it loud, if i made it final, then i’d stop feeling the way i do about you. but it didn’t work.”

you shook your head, trying to process her words. “then why did you let sungchan say all that crap? why didn’t you stop him?”

“because i didn’t know how,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to fix this, how to tell you everything i’ve been feeling. i thought it was too late.”

“it is too late,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “you can’t just come back into my life and expect me to forgive you for everything. it doesn’t work like that.”

minjeong nodded, her expression crumpling slightly. “i know. i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i need you to know that i never stopped caring about you. not for a second.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. you looked at her, at the way her usual calm had completely unraveled and you didn’t know what to say.

part of you wanted to scream at her, to tell her that her feelings didn’t matter anymore.

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you said finally, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“i understand,” she looked down, fidgeting with the hem of shirt. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that i mean it. i’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

you didn’t say anything — you didn’t need to for now. instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, your chest tight with a mixture of anger and sadness. the girl across from you stayed silent after that, giving you the space you needed, but you could feel her presence beside you, heavy and unrelenting.

she had said all the things you’d once wanted to hear — things you’d longed for when she left you shattered in the middle of that hallway.

“y/n,” minjeong’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “please say something.”

you didn’t look at her. “there’s nothing to say.”

“you don’t believe me,” she said softly, more a statement than a question.

“no,” you admitted, your tone clipped. “i don’t.”

the words hung between you like a final nail in the coffin. minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but you were already standing, gathering your things with deliberate precision.

“where are you going?” she asked, panic flickering in her voice.

“home,” you said shortly. “i need to think.”

“what about the project?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

you hesitated for a fraction of a second, then put your bag over your shoulder. “figure it out.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

for the next few days, you avoided her like the plague. you skipped the library sessions, ignored her texts and avoided her in class. when professor diaz asked about your progress on the project, you lied, saying you were working on it separately.

ryujin cornered you in the courtyard one afternoon, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.

“what’s going on with you?” she demanded. “you’ve been weird all week.”

“nothing,” you replied, looking away.

“bullshit,” she snapped. “this is about minjeong, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was enough.

“y/n,” she sighed, her tone softening. “you can’t keep running from this. i know she screwed up, okay? we all know that. but you need to deal with it instead of shutting everyone out.”

“i’m not shutting everyone out,” you defended yourself.”

“you’ve been avoiding her, skipping the library and now you’re lying to the professor about the project,” she listed off. “sounds like shutting everyone out to me.”

“it’s none of your business,” you muttered, brushing past her.

“actually, it is,” a new voice chimed in. you turned to see beomgyu and yeji approaching, both looking equally concerned. “because now we have to deal with mopey minjeong asking about you.”

“she’s not —” you started, but beomgyu cut you off.

“oh, she is,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “she asked me yesterday if you’d said anything about her. looked like a kicked puppy when i told her no.”

“you’re being dramatic,” you muttered, but your resolve was weakening.

“he’s not,” yeji said firmly. “and honestly, y/n, it’s exhausting watching you both avoid each other when clearly there’s so much unresolved.”

“i’m done with her,” you admitted, though the words felt hollow even to you.

“are you?” ryujin challenged, her eyes narrowing. “because you don’t look done. you look hurt. and if you keep bottling this up, it’s only going to get worse.”

on the other side of campus, minjeong was facing her own intervention. her friends had dragged her to the gazebo, refusing to let her leave until they got answers.

“spill,” jimin demanded, leaning forward with her arms crossed. “what’s going on with you and y/n?”

“nothing,” minjeong muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, please,” aeri rolled her eyes. “you’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog. what happened?”

minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i…told her how i felt.”

“and?” yizhuo prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“and she doesn’t believe me,” she admitted, her voice small.

jimin groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “well, can you blame her? you broke her heart in front of the entire university, minjeong, and when she chased you around, you ran faster.”

“and you’ve been cold and distant ever since,” aeri added. “what did you expect? that she’d just fall back into your arms the moment you said you cared?”

“i wasn’t expecting anything,” minjeong said defensively. “i just…i wanted her to know the truth.”

“okay, so you told her,” yizhuo shrugged. “now what?”

“she’s avoiding me,” minjeong responded, her voice cracking slightly. “she won’t answer my texts or show up for the project. i don’t know what to do.”

“maybe start by actually communicating,” jimin suggested dryly. “you know, instead of expecting her to read your mind.”

“and stop being so passive,” aeri chimed in. “if you want her to believe you, you need to show her. actions, not just words.”

“but what if it’s too late?” minjeong asked, her voice trembling. “what if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

jimin sighed, her expression softening. “then you’ll have to accept that. but at least you’ll know you tried.”

“i’m just going to drink my heart out.”

the sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow over the campus as you made your way toward the stairs that led home. the day had been long and all you wanted was to collapse into bed. as you reached the top of the stairs, you spotted jimin, aeri and yizhuo waiting for you like a trio of judgmental guardians.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, already preparing for whatever nonsense they were about to throw your way.

“y/n,” jimin said, stepping forward with a raised eyebrow, “we need to talk.”

“can’t it wait?” you asked, brushing past her, but aeri stepped in your way, blocking your path with her arms crossed.

“it’s about minjeong,” aeri said flatly, her piercing gaze locking on yours.

that stopped you in your tracks. you didn’t look at them, but your stomach twisted in knots. “what about her?”

yizhuo sighed dramatically, leaning against the stone railing. “she’s at joe’s juice joint. drinking.”

“on a tuesday night,” jimin added, mirroring aeri’s stance. “because word has it that a certain someone has been avoiding her.”

you scoffed. “i don’t care what she does.”

“she’s been there since this afternoon,” aeri said, raising an eyebrow. “she’s refusing to leave and we’ve had her guards attempt to pick her up.”

“because of you,” yizhuo chimed in, her voice unusually serious. “she thinks you’re done with her.”

you rolled your eyes, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. “she brought this on herself.”

“she did,” jimin agreed, stepping closer. “but she’s still hurting. and whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”

“why don’t you pick her up then?” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your frustration.

“because,” yizhuo shook her head. “it’s not us she’s been crying about. trust me, we’ve tried.”

that stung.

the three of them watched you expectantly, their expressions a mixture of smugness and concern.

finally, you let out a defeated sigh. “fine, i’ll go and talk to her.”

“thank you,” aeri smiled, stepping aside. “and while you’re at it, remind her that drowning her sorrows in alcohol isn’t a personality trait.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the bar was dimly lit, the scent of citrus and wood polish thick in the air. it wasn’t crowded, but the familiar hum of chatter and soft music filled the space. you scanned the room quickly, your heart sinking when you spotted her in the far corner.

minjeong sat slouched in her chair, one arm resting lazily on the table while the other clutched a half-empty glass of whiskey. her blazer hung off her shoulders, her usually neat blonde hair slightly disheveled.

she looked up as you approached, her eyes widening briefly before she looked away, taking a long sip from her drink.

“minjeong,” you called out, voice firm. “what are you doing here?”

she didn’t answer right away, swirling the liquid in her glass. “drinking.”

“on a tuesday night?” you pressed, sitting down across from her. “this isn’t like you.”

she snorted, the sound bitter. “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“cut the bullshit, minjeong,” you said sharply. “why are you here?”

she set her glass down with a thud, her lips trembling slightly. “because you won’t talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking. “because i miss you, y/n. i miss you so much and it hurts.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you refused to let your guard down. her usually cold demeanour was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“you don’t get to say that,” you clenched your jaw. “you don’t get to sit here and cry about how much you miss me after what you did.”

she winced, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “i know, y/n. and i hate myself for it. i hate that i hurt you, that i pushed you away. but i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you thought breaking my heart in front of everyone was the solution?” you snapped, your voice trembling. “you made me feel like i didn’t matter to you, minjeong. like i was nothing.”

“you were everything,” she said, her voice desperate. “that’s what scared me. i thought…if i ended it, i’d protect myself. but all i did was destroy the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“winter —” you started, but she cut you off, her eyes finally meeting yours.

“you have every reason to hate me,” she said, her voice breaking. “but i can’t stop thinking about you. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you, for the rest of my life, i’m certain i want you.”

her confession left you stunned, the sincerity in her voice breaking down the walls you’d so carefully built. you didn’t realise how much you’d needed to hear those words until now.

“you really hurt me,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“let me earn it,” she said, her eyes pleading. “please, y/n. give me another chance. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, you hesitated; part of you wanted to walk away and protect yourself from getting hurt again.

but you loved her.

“fine,” you said finally, your voice soft. “but you’re going to have to work for it. and right now, we’re getting you out of here.”

to your surprise, she didn’t hesitate. she grabbed her blazer, threw it over her shoulders and clung to your arm as you guided her out of the bar, her grip firm as if she was afraid you’d let go.

“you don’t have to do this,” she mumbled, her voice slurred. “you don’t owe me anything.”

“you’re right,” you said, guiding her through the door. “but someone has to make sure you don’t end up passed out on the sidewalk.”

she let out a weak laugh, her fingers tightening around your arm. “you’re too good to me.”

“don’t push it,” you muttered, but the corners of your lips twitched.

when you reached the car, she refused to let go of your hand. even as you opened the door for her, she tugged you closer, pressing soft, clumsy kisses to your knuckles.

“minjeong,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “get in the car.”

“i don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you this time.”

you sighed, your heart twisting as you gently pried her hands off yours and helped her into the passenger seat.

the ride to her mansion was cloaked in a heavy silence, save for the occasional sniffle from her. her head rested gently on your shoulder, her fingers entwined with yours.

the gesture felt intimate, almost too much for the charged air between you, but you didn’t pull away. you weren’t sure if it was to comfort her or yourself.

“i missed you,” she began, planting another gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “i wish i told you sooner.”

you hummed, nodding as you pulled up to the gates of her mansion. “i wish you did too.”

minjeong didn’t move. her gaze was fixed on your joined hands, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles over your skin. she let out a shaky breath, her lips parting as if to speak but no words came.

“winter?” you prompted softly, your brows knitting together in concern.

she finally looked up at you, her eyes glossy and filled with something raw, vulnerable. “i don’t want to go inside,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

you tilted your head. “why not?”

“because…” she hesitated, her grip on your hand tightening slightly. “because i don’t want to be alone.”

her words hit you square in the chest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. her eyes searched yours and then, hesitantly, she leaned forward just slightly, her breath warm against your lips.

she stopped, hovering close, her needy voice barely audible. “can i kiss you? please?”

the question made your heart stutter. the vulnerability in her voice; you could see how much this moment mattered to her, how much she was holding herself back, waiting for your permission.

“minjeong,” you let out a shaky breath; unsure. “you’ve been drinking. you’re not sober and i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

she shook her head quickly, her fingers tightening around yours. “it’s not like that,” she pleaded, her voice cracking slightly. “i know what i’m asking. this isn’t the alcohol talking. it’s me — your winter, remember?”

you stared at her, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “are you sure?”

“please,” she whispered, leaning just a little closer. “just one kiss. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

then you nodded, your voice barely audible as you said, “okay.”

the relief on her face was instant. she leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. her warm lips brushed against yours softly, hesitantly, as if she was afraid of pushing too far. her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a gentle, almost praising way.

her tongue darted out to meet yours, hesitant at first but growing bolder as the kiss grew more intense. your tongues danced together, a rhythm of unspoken words and emotions too overwhelming to say aloud.

her fingers moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing against your skin as if she was trying to memorise the feel of you.

she wasn’t just kissing you — she was apologising, pleading and pouring every unspoken word into the way her lips moved against yours.

you hummed softly against her lips, your hands finding their way to her waist and pulling her closer. she smiled when your skin pressed against hers letting your arm snake around her body.

and once minjeong was no longer content with just that, she shifted in her seat, climbing over the console until she was straddling you in the driver’s seat. her knees pressed against the sides of the chair, her body fitting perfectly against yours as her hands tangled in your hair.

the kiss turned hungrier, more desperate, as if she was afraid this moment might slip away. her fingers pulled your hair slightly as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

your hands slid up her back, pressing her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

“minjeong,” you murmured against her lips, your voice breathless but she silenced you with another kiss, her lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. “this isn’t one kiss.”

“please don’t push me away,” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling. “i’ll prove it to you, y/n. i’ll prove that i can be better. just…don’t let me go.”

your hands gripped her waist, anchoring her to you. “i’m not pushing you away,” you replied softly, your lips brushing against hers. “but this doesn’t fix everything.”

“i know,” she mumbled quickly, her forehead resting against yours. “but i miss you, i’m sorry.”

you kissed her again, slower this time, more deliberate. your tongues moved together in the same rhythm, her hands trailing down to your shoulders, her touch lingering as if she was afraid you might vanish.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. her eyes fluttered open and she looked at you with so much adoration in her eyes.

“come inside,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “please, stay with me tonight.”

“okay,” you pressed a kiss against her cheek, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “let’s go.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[fatherbrat]

cw. prequel to this. college au hockey player!sukuna. fatherbrat’s 2nd hugh hefner costume mention. reader is drunk. crack-esque. sfw, 1.3k words.

the first time you meet sukuna is at a halloween party. 

(it’s technically your halloween party. it isn’t your house or anything, but the boys that live there are happy to let you host as long as it means a house full of girls and none of the responsibility of setting up. you're happy to fulfill their requests, since it means you can have things go your way and then dip at the end of the night, leaving the post-party cleaning up to them.)

needless to say, you and sukuna do not make good first impressions. you would blame the alcohol, but honestly, it wouldn’t have gone any different if you were sober. 

he arrives at the party in a group. you recognize one of them—the tall, smiley one with impossibly white hair who sits behind you in biochem. he’s dressed up like a character from an snl skit, clad in an ill-fitting suit and round sunglasses with a present box glued to his pelvis.

you don’t recognize the one who comes in behind him, but he’s sexy and tanned and has a mustache. he’s also wearing the same costume as the white-haired one. gojo, you remember. isn’t he on the hockey team?

you immediately pull out your phone, searching up the school’s official instagram page for the hockey team. there they are, front and center in the most recent post. the third guy with them—the one with black hair and the scar that runs through his lip—is in the picture too. he’s wearing a batman costume now, half-assed but recognizable enough. at least he has on the mask. 

you squint at the last man in the group and frown. your gaze drops back down to your phone. 

in the second row of photos is a carousel full of pictures of this pink-haired brute. sukuna, the apparent team captain. his personal account is tagged, but it seems too professional to you, public and polished to perfection for recruiters. 

anyways. he’s here. at your halloween party. wearing an outfit you deem completely unacceptable. 

you down the rest of your (sixth) drink and toss the empty can onto the kitchen counter before making your way towards the group of men, wobbly as ever.

gojo is the first one to notice you. “hey,” he beams, “cool party.” he puts his arm around the guy with the mustache—shiu—and wiggles his eyebrows. “you like our costumes?”

you ignore him, something you wouldn’t do sober, but you’re on a mission. 

you point at sukuna, jabbing your nail into his chest. “where the fuck is your costume?”

sukuna glances down at your finger, then your costume, then your face. “you don’t see the jersey? i’m a fuckin’ hockey player.”

you pull back your hand, disgusted. “first of all, drop the attitude, mister. second of all, that’s not a costume. you’re on the hockey team.”

someone snickers. the one dressed as batman, you think, but you don’t turn around to check. sukuna’s face morphs through a few different emotions—amusement, annoyance, astonishment. he eventually settles on agitation, pissed that he hasn’t even gotten the chance to get some liquor in his system before dealing with bullshit like this.

“you wanna talk about costumes? you’re wearing underwear and a robe,” he says, gesturing towards you with a dismissive wave. 

you gasp and plant your hands on your hips. “this isn’t just underwear, idiot. it’s lingerie. i’m wearing a garter belt, for fuck’s sake. and thigh highs! plus you forgot about my hat?”

you use your entire arm to point at gojo. “who am i dressed as, dick-in-a-box boy?”

his face is flushed from laugher. “sexy hugh hefner. obviously.”

you throw your arm up in the air and let it fall against your thigh with a smack, not noticing the murderous glare sukuna sends towards gojo. someone somewhere turns down the music a bit.

“see!” you exclaim, addressing sukuna once again. “this is clearly a Sexy Costume™. and you know what else makes it a costume? i would never just leave my house like this on a typical day. it’s not a regular outfit in the slightest.” you speak slowly, wanting to make sure he understands every word. 

“you wanna know what makes this Not a costume?” you continue, still talking slow as you wag your finger up and down sukuna’s body. “it’s a regular-degular outfit. literally anyone can put on that campus store-bought jersey and wear it with those jeans on a normal day.”

sukuna starts to speak, but you cut him off. “didn't you see the sign out front? ‘no costume, no entry.’”

his jaw ticks. his right eye twitches. “yeah, i saw the fucking sign. i don’t-”

“oh, great,” you interrupt. “so you don’t know what a costume is and you can’t read. perfect. that hockey scholarship must be doing a lot of heavy lifting, huh?”

even in your inebriated state, you immediately know that was the wrong thing to say. the little crowd that gathered to watch your back-and-forth takes a collective inhale. sukuna looks downright irate, fists clenched at his sides as a storminess settles over his face. 

gojo lets out a long and low whistle, the kind that cartoon bombs make right before they hit the ground and explode. he pats your shoulder twice before abandoning you altogether. the rest of the crowd follows, leaving you to contend with this bear you repeatedly poked.

the music returns to its original volume, but it sounds like the speaker has been moved. away from you and closer to the living room.

maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, but you swear you can see literal steam coming out of sukuna’s ears. you sway on your feet a bit, waiting for him to say something. a thought occurs to you as you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose and breathe deeply, but you keep it to yourself, screwing up your lips in a physical attempt to keep from digging your grave further.

sukuna didn’t even want to come to this party in the first place. he actually mentioned the sign out front to the guys before they came in, trying to use it as an excuse for him to go home. his plan was to make an appearance, drink a beer, and then escape after thirty minutes. but here you are, this drunk stranger yelling at him for being dressed like a normal fucking person. the urge to stay strikes him. he wants to linger just to piss you off. 

“are you done?” he asks you.

you cross your arms. “are you leaving?”

“no.”

“then no.”

just as you’re about to dig into him again, sukuna’s thinning patience snaps.

“stop being a fucking bitch about this, alright? just relax. you’re acting fucking crazy.”

your jaw unhinges itself and you stand there, gawking. sukuna seems about ready to walk away, cracking his knuckles and looking somewhere behind you. your eyes land on his cheek, reddened and ready for a smack. you draw your arm back, wanting to make sure you gave him a slap that stings—and he catches it mid-air.

“are you serious?” he scoffs. you glance at your hand, his fingers around your wrist, the scowl etched into his face.

he glowers at you, not letting go when you try to shake your arm free. so you do the next logical thing.

you spit on him.

a glob of your saliva lands just below his eye. you smirk, satisfied. he drops your arm and curses, lifting the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face. then you make your first smart decision of the night and turn around, running back to where the rest of the party is to hide amongst the bodies.

he yells after you, but it’s drowned out by your giggles and the sound of chatter as you get nearer, bumping into countertops and side tables on the way.

someone pats your back and puts a drink in your hand. you pray you never have to see the captain of the hockey team again. 

tags. @nonamevenus @lavenderdaydream97 @rinofcike @gdamnackerman

[moosesarecute]

December 21st: Winter Solstice

December Masterlist

Masterlist

For the first few hours, flying home had been amazing.

The wind in your hair. The way your wings helped you get where you wanted to go.

And especially, the way Azriel was within a wings-length at all times.

You flew beside him or below him or above him. It didn’t matter where, but you were the closest you could be while still flying.

Both of you had for the most part finished crying. The conversation had gone over to laughter and joy.

Both were focused on just taking in the feeling of flying together, but every now and then you would stop in the air and exchange small kisses.

Flying had always been your thing. Even as children, you and Az would go flying together.

Rhys and Cass was too advanced for the two of you. Even though you usually started the flying together, they would leave you and Az after just a few minutes. You and Az would grow together.

Azriel had of course spent most of his childhood with his wings tied, so he hadn’t been able to fly. You had grown up with a mother with clipped wings and a father that thought females shouldn’t fly. Your mother’s closeness to the Lady of Night was the only thing that kept your wings from being clipped.

You and Azriel would fly everyday and each day lead to longer flights.

You both got so proud every time you managed to stay longer in the air. So eventually, flying became your safe place. Even though Azriel spent most of the day training and you were sewing, not a day went by without at least a small flight.

It was something you had brought with you through your friendship, your marriage and as mates. Sometimes it was totally quiet and other times you were talking and laughing. You even went flying during the days of your biggest fight. Even though you were pissed at each other, you still spent a few minutes together up in the air.

Flying was your favorite thing to do.

But after a while, three years without regular flying became harder to ignore. Stretching out your wings became harder and harder. Your back started to cramp and you got more and more twitching.

You and Azriel had taken a longer break on the small island you had slept on last time you were flying to Prythian, but that only made things worse. When you were going to start flying again, you struggled even getting off the ground.

Azriel had of course asked you several times if you needed help, but you were just a little too stubborn to say yes.

That was until a sudden gust of strong wind almost knocked you out of the air and into the ocean.

Azriel was as always on high alert and caught you before you got hurt or wet.

“Thank you,” you told him. “You can let go of me now, love.”

However, as you tried to move out of Azriel’s arms, his embrace only tightened.

“Please, just let me hold you. For my sake. I know you can fly yourself, but I just need to have you close.”

You both knew he was lying, a little at least, but you let him get his will.

Sinking into his arms was just what you needed. You leaned your head onto his chest and slowly fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Just before you fell asleep you felt a loving kiss to the top of your head and a small whisper.

“Sleep well, my dearest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

It was the most beautiful words you have ever heard.

Seeing Velaris broke you once more. You lasted about half a second trying to keep in your sobs.

It was the city you loved. When the boys first introduced it to you, you fell in love immediately. Having to leave after your first visit was awful.

“I remember how huge your eyes were when you first saw this,” Azriel said. He was still holding you. How he had managed to hold you for over three hours while flying and shadow-walking was impossible for you to tell, but it felt so safe.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep it a secret for so long,” you told him back. “Especially Cassian.”

The first Starfall after your mother passed was one you were sure you would spend alone. That was until Rhys came to Windhaven and picked you up.

The boys had celebrated both Winter Solstice and Starfall in Velaris for many years before you joined them. To this day it still shocked you how they managed to keep shut about the city.

“I know you want to see the rest of our family, but can we please just see a healer first?”

The concern in Azriel’s eyes was what made you say yes.

Both of you hated interrupting Madja’s celebration of Winter Solstice, but Azriel was too worried to wait.

“Thank the mother,” Madja breathed out as she saw you.

She was almost more concerned than Azriel as she did every single check she could think of.

“I know she’s your mate, shadowsinger, but it would be easier to examine her if I was able to see her.”

The second Madja had gotten closer than a meter to you, Azriel’s shadows had covered you completely. Even though Azriel tried his hardest to keep them away from you, it took you almost five minutes of comforting them before they let Madja even touch you.

“You’re a little too thin and dehydrated, but I can’t find anything will give permanent damage. Make sure you spend a lot of time resting and come back in a week’s time. No training, missions or work before I say so.”

Azriel seemed relieved at her words. Both that you were okay and that you needed to rest. He definitely needed rest too.

In the River House everyone sat waiting.

Not a single present had been opened.

Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Mor and Amren had been sitting in total silence for quite a while.

Someone was missing.

When Azriel didn’t show up to the snowball fight that morning, the family started to worry.

They had went through all of Velaris to look after him. Rhys had even winnowed to Windhaven. Mor and Feyre had looked in The Middle.

They could find no trace.

“Can you try once more,” Cassian asked Rhys.

Neither Rhys or Feyre had gotten to Azriel with their daemati powers.

It was visible that they both tried, but eventually both shook their heads.

Azriel hadn’t spent Winter Solstice evening with them since you disappeared, but he had delivered presents and joined the snowball fight last year.

This year, no one had heard from him in almost a week.

They all thought the worst. They had for a while now. But at the same time, they hoped he would be there that day. They didn’t think he’d want to do it so close to the holiday you loved so much.

“He seemed hopeful! We made cookies!” Cassian said aloud with a tearful voice.

“Maybe he found out that he got his hopes up for nothing and couldn’t take it anymore,” Rhys said.

Missing a family member is always hard, but missing them around this time of year tends to be so much harder.

No one spoke for a while longer.

However, they all almost jumped out of their seats as they heard the door to the River House open. None of them moved. They heard one set of footsteps and a hushed voice.

However, as the door to the living room opened the clock struck twelve.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean @kbear8863

Dividers by @issysh3ll

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 3 - 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎�� 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 "𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚎" 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

𝙰/𝙽- 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚝 3𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

The wind howled outside, shaking the cabin as snow piled higher against the windows. The storm had come in fast, trapping you and Rafe inside while Sarah, Topper, and Kelce were still out, struggling to make their way back. The thought of being stuck here alone with Rafe Cameron hadn’t been on your list of plans for the weekend.  

Rafe made it abundantly clear he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, brushing off your attempts at conversation with snide comments. You’d only come because Sarah begged you to, not wanting to be the only girl on a trip with her brother and his friends. Now, the storm has forced you into an unexpected standoff with the Kook prince himself. You had known them since you were little. Despite being a Pogue from the cut, your dad played an important role in Cameron Development. He just refused to move from where he and your mom were raised. You’d learn more life lessons on the cut, you’d learn the importance of work, and you’d learn how to take care of yourself. You were more well off than your friends, but just from your location alone, the title and the reputation still stook.

The power had gone out hours ago, leaving the cabin cloaked in shadows. You had spent most of your time alone avoiding each. But since the only light and warmth now came from the flickering fire in the family room, casting golden glow across the room, you two ended up sitting together on the couch. Heavy blankets were draped over both of you as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, nursing mugs of whiskey-laced hot cocoa.  

The silence between you was uneasy, filled only by the crackle of the fire and the relentless wind outside. The tension was thick, though whether it stemmed from genuine animosity or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.  

Rafe glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his expression unreadable. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he said finally, his tone edged with something you couldn’t place. Looking down at your phone, you noticed Sarah had texted you and Rafe that the group was just going to stay at a motel closer to town. It was impossible for them to make it back to the remote cabin. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Lucky me,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the real storm was brewing between the two of you.  

“Truth or Dare?” Rafe had proposed after a long stretch of silence,, his voice carrying that infuriatingly smug tone he always seemed to use around you. You agreed reluctantly, suspecting he’d use the game to tease you. 

It started out innocent enough. Although it’s truth or dare, all you keep throwing at each other is truth. “What’s your favorite food?” “What’s your favorite color?” 

The fire crackled softly in the quiet cabin, the golden glow of the flames flickering against the walls. Outside, the storm continued to rage, wind howling as snow battered the windows. Rafe stretched his legs out lazily, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk as he swirled the whiskey in his mug.  

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence, “truth or dare?”  

You raised a brow, sipping your cocoa. “Truth. I’m not about to trust you with a dare.”  

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost taunting. “Fair enough. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”  

You thought for a moment, biting your lip. “Probably sneaking into the country club with Sarah one night to swim in the pool. Security almost caught us.”  

Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not bad for a pogue,” he teased. “Your turn.”  

You smirked. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he replied easily, his gaze not wavering from yours.  

“What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into?”  

Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think. “Define trouble,” he said with a smirk.  

“Something that could’ve actually gotten you locked up,” you clarified, rolling your eyes.  

“Fine,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “Got into it with some guy at a party. Things got... messy. Cops came, but my dad made it all go away.” He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” you answered quickly, wary of what he might come up with.  

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?” he asked, his smirk returning, but this time it felt heavier, more charged.  

You felt your cheeks heat up, the firelight only making it worse. “Bold question,” you muttered.  

“I’m waiting,” he said, leaning back and giving you a look that was both smug and daring.  

You crossed your arms. “Skinny dipping counts, right?”  

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Weak answer.”  

“Alright, your turn,” you said, ignoring his jab. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he said again, his voice dropping slightly.  

“What would you do right now if no one could stop you?”  

His eyes locked onto yours, the tension thick enough to cut. He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he let the question hang in the air. “You really want to know, princess?”  

You nodded, holding your ground despite the flutter in your chest.  

“I’d warm you up, for starters,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, as he reaches for your hand, stroking it gently.. Your heart skipped. His challenge hung in the air, and the storm outside seemed to intensify as if it sensed the shift between you. He began to tug on the hand he was rubbing.  

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, though your voice wavered slightly. You moved over to his side of the couch and hesitated for a moment before settling yourself across his lap.  

His hands immediately found your hips, steadying you. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery, though his grip was firm and grounding.  

You glared at him. “Your turn,” you said quickly. “I dare you to kiss me.”  

“You didn’t ask me truth or dare,” Rafe’s smirk returned, but there was something softer beneath it this time. He leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek before his lips met yours. The kiss started slow, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, the heat between you burning away any remaining tension.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a low rasp. “I dare you to suck my cock.”  

You wasted no time sinking to the floor in front of him. Your hands on each of his thighs, moving up to reach the button of his jeans. You open them and tug his pants down his legs. You sit in between his wide spread legs and palm him through his boxers. You can’t believe how big he feels. You really never pictured him in that way and now your mouth is watering at the thought of it. Before you can do anything else, Rafe grabs your chin and leans over you. 

“Open,” commanding as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. 

You comply and he spits onto your tongue. “Just making sure you know your place here, sweetheart. Swallow.” He leans back and you move to pull his boxers down.

You take his base in your hand and kiss his tip. Using your lips to smear his precum down his length. He’s already shifting above you, throwing his head back on the couch. He grabs a handful of your hair, squeezing it tightly when you move your head lower taking in all of him. 

“Shit that’s fucking good. Taking in all of me like a good little slut. Keep your eyes on me.” He looks down at you with a hazy look and you stare straight into his eyes as you begin to bob your head. 

As you continue to slowly take him all the way again, he starts to breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls your head back, exposing your neck. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," Rafe whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Your mouth feels amazing."

You look up at him, your eyes locked onto his, and whisper, "I'm just getting started."

Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he pulls your head back down, his hips thrusting gently against your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin as he whispers, "Deeper, please. Take me deeper."

You oblige, moving your lips and tongue in sync with his movements, creating a sensual rhythm. His precum mixes with your saliva, creating a slippery texture that allows your lips to glide effortlessly up and down his length.

"Ah, yeah," Rafe groans, his body tensing. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You feel his muscles coiling with anticipation, as he struggles to maintain control. His hand in your hair pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. You feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you relax, allowing him to slide in further.

Rafe's groans grow louder, and his body starts to tremble, signaling that he's on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release. He pulls you off of him, "I...I don't want to come yet," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to savor this moment, feel your mouth on me for just a little longer."

You look up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and whisper, "We'll see about that."

You continue to tease Rafe, your lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him closer to the edge. He's panting heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Please…" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "...J-Just a little longer."

You slow down your movements, taking your time to savor the moment. Rafe's eyes flash with frustration, and he tries to thrust his hips forward, seeking more friction. He knows what he asked but your mouth just feels too good to stop. But you're ready for him, and you hold him back, your hands grasping his hips to keep him in place.

"Patience," you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. "This is what you wanted, just a little more time feeling me."

Rafe groans, his body trembling with anticipation. You can feel his muscles coiling, you can feel the internal battle he’s having with this moment. He wants to give in so bad. 

And then, in a flash of movement, you take him deep, your lips wrapping around his length as you swallow him whole. Rafe's eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud groan, his body shuddering as he loses control. You continue to deep throat him as he squirms beneath you. 

"I'm...I'm coming," he whispers, his voice strained.

You feel his release building, his body tensing as he prepares to let go. And then, in a burst of heat and sensation, he's coming, his length pulsing as he empties himself into your mouth.

You swallow, feeling his warmth spread through you. Rafe's body relaxes, those muscles uncoiling as he collapses back onto the couch. He's panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath.

You pull back, your lips releasing his length as you look up at him. Rafe's eyes are closed, his face relaxed in a mask of satisfaction. You smile to yourself, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"Wow," Rafe whispers, his voice barely audible. "That was...wow."

You lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whisper.

Rafe's eyes flicker open, and he looks at you. "I more than enjoyed it," he whispers. "I needed that. I’ve been dying for you to do that."

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with him. "I'm also glad I could finally give it to you," you whisper.

Rafe's gaze holds yours, and for a moment, you just look at each other, the only sound is the heavy breathing and the beating of your hearts. And then, without a word, Rafe reaches out, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close.

You feel his warmth, his body heat radiating into you as he holds you tight. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both just breathe.

He takes a deep breath, and then, without warning, he stands up, lifting you with him. You feel a rush of excitement as he spins you around.

You feel his fingers tracing down the sides of your body, sending shivers down it. He reaches the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, pulling it over your head. You feel a rush of cool air on your skin as he discards it, and then his hands are on your breasts, grasping them firmly.

Rafe's fingers squeeze your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He leans forward, his lips closing around one of your nipples, sucking gently. Your legs go weak and you feel a moan building in your throat as he teases your nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth.

His hands move to your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. You feel his fingers tracing down your thighs, sending shivers down your legs. He kicks off his own pants, and you feel his cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe spins you around, pulling you down to the couch with him. His hands grasping your hips as he turns you to face away from him. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and then he's lifting you up, sinking you down onto his length. You feel a rush of pleasure as he fills you, his cock stretching you wide.

As you settle onto his cock, Rafe's hands move to your hips, grasping them firmly. He starts to move you, lifting you up and down as you ride him reverse cowgirl style. You feel his cock sliding in and out of you, the friction building a fire in your belly.

You start to move on your own, your hips rocking back and forth as you ride Rafe's cock. His hands guide you, helping you find a rhythm that drives you both wild. You feel his cock hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through you.

As you ride him, Rafe's lips are on your back, his tongue tracing up and down your spine. You feel his breath hot against your skin. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You're lost in the sensation, your body moving on its own as you ride Rafe's cock. The room around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You feel your orgasm building, a fire that's burning out of control.

You lean back on to Rafe’s chest and place a foot on the couch and begin to move your hips up and down. “Touch me,” you desperately plead and Rafe swiftly moves the one hand from your breast and swirls rough circles into your clit.

As soon as that pressure is applied, you're coming, your body shuddering. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, his body tensing as he comes right after you. The two of you are lost in the moment, your bodies entwined as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

You don’t get a second to recover before Rafe is lifting you up and laying you back onto the couch and settling in between your legs. You don’t mind though, you're not ready for this to end either.

He strokes his cock a few times to get hard again and as soon as he does he’s plunging right back into you.

As Rafe begins his harsh thrusts, he leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue probing your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his chest pressing against yours. He pulls back, looking into your eyes, and says, "I love being on top of you, feeling your body underneath me, I fucking own you now."

You smile, feeling a rush of excitement, and reply in between breaths, "You feel so good inside me, fucking me like the dirty little whore I am."

Rafe's eyes widen with desire, he honestly didn’t expect those words to come from you. You feel his cock filling you, stretching you, and you arch your back, moving your hips in sync with his, trying to take him deeper. "You're so tight, so wet," he growls. "I love feeling your cunt grip my cock."

As he moves, Rafe leans down and spits into your mouth again, his saliva mixing with yours. You feel a surge of excitement, and you swallow, tasting the salty sweetness of his spit. Rafe groans, his eyes closing in pleasure, and he says, "You're so fucking sexy. I love fucking you like this, making you mine, making you come all over my cock."

You feel his hips move even faster, his thrusts becoming more intense, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. Rafe's hands are on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, feeling his fingers pinch your nipples.

 "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I fuck you hard and deep, making you scream my name." You nod stupidly, not able to form a sentence right now.

As he fucks you, Rafe leans down and whispers, "I'm going to come soon, baby. I'm going to fill you up with more of my cum, make you feel like a dirty little slut." You feel his cock swelling, his movements becoming more erratic, and you know he's close. Those words make your back arch and make you come, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop of his seed.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Rafe groans, his voice husky with desire, "I can feel you coming, baby, I can feel your hot little cunt squeezing my cock, begging for my cum."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and you say, "Come inside me. Please. I want to feel you explode, feel your hot cum filling me up." Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he thrusts into you one last time, his body tensing, his cock pulsing with his release.

You feel his cum filling you, warming you, and you smile, feeling satisfied, feeling complete. Rafe collapses on top of you, his chest heaving, his breath hot on your skin. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, and you whisper, "I love being your dirty little slut."

Rafe's eyes open, and he looks at you, his gaze soft, his expression tender. He says, “I love making you mine." You feel his lips on yours, his kiss gentle, complete opposite of how passionate everything just was. You now realize, this wasn’t something done out of boredom. Rafe likes his sister’s pogue friend.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[reiding-writing]

For the Christmas fic, how about bau!reader never celebrated Christmas properly cause she had like bad parents so Spencer decides to change that with the help of the team

RESTORATION — SPENCER REID!

you’re not a big fan of christmas. spencer enlists the help of the team to try and restore your festive spirit.

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — watch someone who doesn’t like Christmas, write about a group of people who do like christmas :)

You’re not sure how it happened, but suddenly, Christmas is everywhere.

Twinkling lights hang from every corner of the bullpen. Garlands wrap themselves around the stair railings like ivy. A Christmas tree towers near the kitchenette, its branches heavy with ornaments you suspect Morgan and Garcia argued over before agreeing on a theme. The air smells faintly of pine, cinnamon, and coffee, a warm combination that feels almost too comforting. Too safe.

You try not to let it bother you.

You never understood the hype around Christmas. Every year, you watched the world transform into a wonderland of twinkling lights and festivity, but for you, it was just another day. Another reminder of what you never had.

While other kids were unwrapping presents under the tree, you sat in your cold, quiet room, the sounds of your parents’ arguments drowning out the holiday cheer. Christmas wasn’t a celebration in your house—it was a chore, a duty, something to get through without breaking.

Even now, as an adult, you treat the holiday like it’s just another box to check. The gifts you give are practical and impersonal, and the ones you receive feel more like obligations than thoughtful gestures. You avoid the parties, the caroling, the incessant cheer. It’s easier that way.

At least, it was.

The BAU changed everything.

You weren’t prepared for how much they’d come to mean to you. They weren’t just colleagues; they were family in a way you’d never truly known. And Spencer… Spencer Reid is something else entirely. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment your feelings for him shifted, but now they’re impossible to ignore. Every shy smile, every ramble about quantum physics, every thoughtful gesture—it all leaves you wondering how you got so lucky to have someone like him in your corner.

Still, when he asks you about your Christmas plans during lunch one day, your walls go up.

“Oh, you know,” you say casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Probably just a quiet night at home.”

Spencer frowns, his brow furrowing in that endearing way that tells you he’s already analysing your words. “You’re not a Christmas person?”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent. “Not really. Christmas wasn’t… something my parents did growing up,”

That’s the understatement of the century, but you don’t elaborate. Spencer’s gaze lingers on you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Well,” he says slowly, “maybe it’s something we can work on,”

You wave him off with a chuckle, but the idea takes root in his mind anyway.

—

A week later, you’re finishing up paperwork when Spencer approaches your desk, his face lit up with excitement.

“Are you free on Christmas Eve?” he asks, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You blink, caught off guard. “I guess so? Why?”

He grins, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. “It’s a surprise. Just… trust me?”

You don’t have the heart to say no.

—

When Christmas Eve arrives, you find yourself in front of Spencer’s apartment, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling in your chest. You’re not sure what to expect, but the last thing you anticipate is the sight that greets you when he opens the door.

“Surprise!”

The entire team is there, the living room transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There’s a fake tree in the corner, its branches laden with ornaments and lights. Garland and tinsel drape over every surface, and the scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air.

Hotch is standing by the fireplace, looking uncharacteristically relaxed with a drink in hand, JJ and Will are helping Henry hang a candy cane on the tree, Garcia flits around in a sequinned Santa hat, arranging plates of cookies and snacks, and even Rossi is there, holding a glass of wine and smirking like he knows exactly how overwhelmed you’re feeling.

And then there’s Spencer, standing in front of you with that nervous, hopeful look that makes your heart ache.

“You did this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “We did. You’ve never had a proper Christmas, and we thought it was time to change that.”

You look around, your chest tightening as the weight of their thoughtfulness sinks in. For a moment, you can’t speak.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” you finally manage, though your voice trembles.

“We wanted to,” JJ says, stepping over to hug you. “You’re family, and family deserves to be celebrated.”

The word family hits you like a freight train.

—

The night unfolds like something out of a movie.

You start with decorating gingerbread houses, a task that quickly descends into chaos when Garcia insists on bedazzling her roof with edible glitter. Morgan competes with Henry to see who can build the tallest chimney, while Rossi critiques everyone’s technique like it’s a cooking competition.

Spencer sticks close to you, guiding you through the process with his usual patience and a surprising knack for icing details. At one point, he accidentally smudges frosting on his nose, and the way he blushes when you laugh makes your stomach flutter.

Next comes dinner, a feast that Rossi and JJ clearly poured their hearts into. You sit between Spencer and Garcia, listening to Rossi’s stories and laughing until your cheeks hurt. Every now and then, you catch Spencer sneaking glances at you, his expression soft and fond in a way that makes you feel seen in a way you’re not used to.

Afterward, Garcia insists on a gift exchange. You’re hesitant at first, but when you open your gift from her—a beautifully wrapped box of handmade bookmarks featuring your favorite literary quotes—you can’t help but smile.

“How did you…?”

“I have my ways,” she says with a wink.

You’re equally stunned when Spencer hands you a small, carefully wrapped package. Inside is an antique copy of *Pride and Prejudice*, its leather cover worn but lovingly preserved.

“Spencer,” you whisper, running your fingers over the embossed title. “This is… it’s perfect.”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. “I remember you mentioned it was your favorite. I thought it deserved a spot in your collection.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re going to cry.

—

The night ends with everyone gathered around the fireplace, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jack preforms his reading of The Night Before Christmas.

You sit beside Spencer on the couch, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper little facts about the poem’s history. Normally, you’d roll your eyes at his need to share trivia, but tonight, it feels comforting. Familiar.

When the others start to leave, bidding you Merry Christmas with hugs and warm smiles, you linger by the door, hesitant to let the night end.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, his voice soft.

You nod, but the lump in your throat betrays you. “I just… I don’t know how to thank you for this. All of you.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” he says, his gaze steady. “You deserve it.”

The words are simple, but they cut through you in a way you don’t expect. Before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.

He freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but then he relaxes, his arms coming up to hold you in return.

His cheek smushes lovingly against the top of your head, and it’s only once he catches the glimpse of white and green above the doorway that he pulls away.

Mistletoe. How cliché.

Spencer lets out a breath of a laugh as you follow his gaze with curious eyes, cheeks warming at the fluster on your face.

“Garcia must’ve put that there…”

You press your lips together between your teeth, a wave of heat rising to the tips of your ears as you glance back in Spencer’s direction.

But you’re not nervous. It’s almost domestic, the soft crackle of the dying fire across the room, the way Spencer’s arms linger innocently at your waist.

You cup Spencer’s cheek to bring it to your face, lips pressing deftly against the corner of his mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer,” you whisper like you’ve run out of oxygen.

He smiles with his whole face, his voice warm and full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,”

[bbdeongi]

PANTIE THIEF

☆PAIRING: Sub!Yunho x Dom!Reader

☆GENRE: smut

☆WARNINGS: Roomates, Sub Yunho, Dom Fem reader, degradation, pet names, eating out, jerking off/hand job, cowgirl, lots of praise as well.

☆SUMMARY: Your underwear kept going missing.. finally one day, you find the culprit.

☆A/N: request from @hwxbibi

7.2k words

It had been two weeks of something strange, and you’d finally hit your limit. For days now, you’d noticed an odd pattern: certain pairs of your panties had been disappearing from your drawer, only to reappear in the wash later as though you’d worn them. But you hadn’t. You knew your habits well enough to tell when something was out of place.

At first, you thought maybe you were overthinking it—maybe it was a mistake, or maybe you’d tossed them in the hamper without remembering. But it kept happening, and the unease in your chest grew until it was impossible to ignore.

Your roommate, Yunho, didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. He was his usual charming, friendly self—tall, broad, and always ready with a laugh or a kind word. He was frustratingly handsome, with dark eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled, and you hated that just being around him made your heart race. But now, every interaction made you suspicious.

You’d known Yunho for years, and you shared a close friendship, even if there was an unspoken tension between you. You’d chalked it up to your crush on him—a crush you’d kept buried because there was no way someone like him, with his confident smile and natural charisma, would be into you.

But then something was off.. Yunho had been acting a little different lately. He was quieter around you, his usual confident and teasing demeanor replaced with something more subdued. You’d caught him staring at you a few times, quickly looking away when you noticed. You’d thought it was just your imagination or maybe even your own crush on him clouding your perception. But now, you weren’t so sure.

But tonight, something felt different and you were determined to figure it out.

It was just past 9 PM when you got back to your shared apartment. The lights were on, and Yunho’s shoes were by the door, meaning he was home. You kicked off your own shoes, dropped your bag by the couch, and made your way down the hall toward your bedroom. Everything seemed normal—quiet and still. But as you walked down to your room, the feeling of unease returned.

That’s when you noticed it: your door was open.

Your heart sank. You knew you’d closed it when you left earlier. You always closed your door out of habit—it was your little sanctuary in the shared space. A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you approached, your footsteps slow and deliberate.

When you reached the doorway, you stopped in your tracks.

Yunho was standing in front of your dresser, his tall frame slightly hunched as he rifled through the top drawer—your underwear drawer.

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of shock and anger flooding your chest. “Yunho,” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the silence like a whip.

He froze. His shoulders stiffened, and his head whipped around to look at you, his dark eyes wide with panic. “I—I—” he stammered, his face flushing crimson as he quickly stepped back from the dresser, a pair of your panties clutched in his large hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you demanded, stepping into the room and crossing your arms.

“I… I can explain,” Yunho said, his voice shaky as he dropped the panties

You stepped further into the room, closing the door behind you with a decisive click. Yunho’s tall frame seemed to shrink slightly as he realized he was cornered. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his dark eyes flicking to the floor, then to you, and then back to the floor as if searching for a way out.

“I’m waiting,” you said, your tone sharp as you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I…” Yunho’s voice faltered, and he let out a shaky breath, his hand still lingering on the edge of your dresser. He looked completely out of his element—like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. His usual confidence and charm were gone, replaced by something hesitant, something vulnerable. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he muttered finally, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Find out what, Yunho? That you’ve been sneaking into my room and stealing my panties?”

Yunho winced at your blunt words, his face burning crimson. “I… I wasn’t stealing them,” he said quickly, as though that somehow made it better.

“Oh, really?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “So what exactly were you doing, then?”

He hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His gaze flicked to the drawer, then back to you, and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he took a deep breath and blurted out, “I—I just… I wanted something of yours.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected confession. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a step closer. “Why?”

Yunho shifted uncomfortably, his large frame towering over you despite the fact that he looked like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “Because,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because what, Yunho?” you pressed, your tone unrelenting.

He looked up at you then, his dark eyes filled with a mix of shame and something else—something raw and vulnerable. “Because I like you, okay?” he said, the words rushing out in a single breath. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and… and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden confession. Of all the explanations you’d been expecting, this wasn’t one of them.

“So your solution was to… what? Go through my underwear drawer?” you said, your voice skeptical. You felt creeped out but at the same time you felt that feeling in your gut whenever you found something... hot.

Yunho’s face burned even brighter, and he let out a groan, covering his face with his hands. “I know it was stupid, okay? I wasn’t thinking. I just… I wanted to feel close to you. And I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way about me, so…” His voice trailed off, and he dropped his hands, looking utterly defeated.

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, your mind racing as you tried to process what he’d just said. Yunho liked you? The same Yunho who was always so confident and self-assured? The same Yunho who made your heart race every time he smiled at you?

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your thoughts. “Yunho,” you said, your tone softer now, though it still carried an edge of authority. “Come here.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally stepped closer, his movements tentative. His towering height made him seem imposing, but right now, he looked anything but. He looked… small. I mean he was still way taller than you, but he acted... submissive?

You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and gesturing for him to kneel in front of you. “Kneel,” you said firmly.

Yunho’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he might protest. But then he nodded, lowering himself to his knees in front of you. His broad shoulders hunched slightly, and his gaze was fixed on the floor, his usual confidence completely stripped away.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. Even like this, he was undeniably beautiful. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes, his jawline sharp and defined even as he looked down. And his lips… God, his lips were parted just enough to reveal the slightest hint of teeth, as though he was biting back a response.

“Look at me,” you said, your voice calm but commanding.

Slowly, Yunho lifted his gaze to meet yours. His dark eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and longing, and the sight made something stir deep within you.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Yunho,” you said, your tone firm but teasing.

His breath hitched, and you saw his hands twitch slightly where they rested on his thighs. “I… I know,” he said softly.

“Do you?” you asked, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know how wrong it is to go through someone’s things without their permission?” You position yourself, so you were leaning over your legs.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“And do you know how much trouble you’re in right now?”

“Yes,” he said again, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

You smirked, satisfaction curling in your chest as you watched him squirm under your gaze. “Good,” you said, leaning back slightly. “Then I think it’s time I teach you a lesson.”

Yunho’s eyes widened slightly at your words, and you saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. His breath quickened, and you could see the anticipation and nervousness flickering in his gaze.

“Take off your shirt,” you said simply, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Yunho hesitated for only a moment before reaching down, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The sight of his bare chest made your breath catch for just a second—his toned muscles and smooth skin were exactly as you’d imagined, maybe even better.

You reached out, trailing your fingers lightly over his chest, watching as he shivered under your touch. His breaths came in short, uneven bursts, and you could see the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as though he was trying to keep himself in check.

“You’ve got such a nice body, Yunho,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the line of his collarbone. “It’s a shame you used it to do something so naughty.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho said quickly, his voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, you will be,” you said, your smirk widening. “But for now, I think you’ve got some making up to do.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as your hand lingered on Yunho’s chest. His heart was racing beneath your fingertips, and the way he looked at you—with so much vulnerability it made your own heart flutter in your chest.

“Yunho,” you began softly, your voice losing some of its sharp edge. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the way they searched your face made your throat tighten. You let out a quiet sigh, shaking your head slightly as a wry smile tugged at your lips.

“You’re such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?” you murmured, your tone soft but teasing.

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you said, leaning closer, your fingers trailing up to rest lightly against his jaw, “that you’ve been acting like a fool, sneaking around and making all these excuses… when all you had to do was tell me how you felt.”

Yunho’s breath hitched at your words, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no sound came out. His wide eyes searched yours, and you could see the shock and hope flickering in his expression.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you admitted, your voice steady despite the slight nervous flutter in your chest. “I’ve liked you for a long time. But instead of just saying something, you pull this ridiculous ass stunt?”

“I—I didn’t think…” Yunho started, his voice trembling. “I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you thought wrong,” you said simply, leaning even closer until your lips were just a breath away from his.

You didn’t let him speak, instead you closed the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was firm and deliberate.

Yunho froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then he melted against you, his large hands twitching slightly on his thighs as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but didn’t dare. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and the kiss quickly deepened, filled with all the emotions that had been simmering between you for so long.

His lips were soft and plump against yours. you cupped his cheeks as you continued to kiss him, he was still on his knees, in-between your thighs. he looked so hot and desperate like this... you eventually pulled back, his eyes were glassy.. like puppy eyes.

You leaned in close, brushing your thumb lightly along Yunho’s jaw, watching as he trembled beneath your touch. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction at how completely you had unraveled him.

“This is your last warning,” you said firmly, your voice dropping to a low, commanding tone. “If you don’t behave, you’re going to regret it. Do you understand?”

Yunho nodded quickly, his gaze fixed on you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice a little shaky.

“Yes, what?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow as you tilted his chin up slightly, forcing him to look directly into your eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, his dark eyes flickering with uncertainty. Then, in a soft, trembling voice, he whispered, “Yes… mommy.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked, stunned. The word hung in the air between you like a spark, and you could feel your heart race at the sound of it. Yunho’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze darting away as though he was regretting the slip.

But you weren’t upset. Far from it. in fact, you actually liked it. never in your life have you felt.. I guess, powerful. you've never felt a sense of dominance.

“Mommy?” you repeated, your voice softer now, almost teasing. Yunho’s eyes flicked back to yours, wide with nervousness, and you could see the way his lips parted slightly as if to explain himself.

“I—” he started, but you placed a finger over his lips, silencing him.

You studied him for a moment, the tension in the room shifting slightly. The raw vulnerability in his eyes tugged at something deep inside you, softening the edge of your demeanor. You had never seen Yunho like this before—so open, so submissive—and it stirred something in you that you couldn’t ignore.

After a moment, you lowered your hand, your voice gentler now as you asked, “bub, are you okay with this?”

His eyes widened slightly at the question, and for a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. “I—yeah,” he said quickly, his voice earnest but still trembling. “I want this. I… I want to be good for you.”

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I need you to be honest with me,” you said, your tone steady but kind. “If this is too much, or if there’s anything you don’t want, you need to tell me. Okay?”

Yunho nodded again, his gaze unwavering as he looked up at you. “I’m okay,” he said, his voice gaining a little more confidence. “I want this. I… I like it.”

His admission sent a warmth flooding through you, and you felt your lips curve into a small smile. “Good,” you said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Because I like it too.”

The relief that washed over Yunho’s face was visible, and he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension in the room eased. You placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing over his flushed skin as you took a moment to simply look at him, the boy who had always been your friend, now kneeling before you in a way that felt both strange and undeniably right.

“Just let me take the lead, okay?” you said softly, your voice reassuring. “We’ll go slow.”

“Okay,” Yunho said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the eagerness in his tone was there.

You sat back slightly, still perched on the edge of the bed, your gaze locked on Yunho’s flushed face as his breathing steadied. There was a vulnerability in his expression that made your chest tighten, but beneath it was something else—something tentative yet eager, like he was waiting for permission to cross a line he’d only ever dreamed of approaching.

Your dress shifted slightly as you adjusted your position, the soft fabric brushing against your thighs. Yunho’s eyes flickered downward, his gaze lingering for just a second too long before darting back to your face. His lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn’t come immediately.

“What is it?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you studied him.

He hesitated, his large hands fidgeting slightly on his thighs. “Can I…” He paused, swallowing hard as his dark eyes searched yours. “Can I take them off?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, and a flicker of amusement danced across your face. “Take what off?” you teased, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Your… panties,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly added, “Only if you’re okay with it.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Yunho, despite his size and his usual confidence, looked so small in this moment, kneeling before you and waiting for your approval.

You let out a soft hum, your lips curving into a slight smile as you reached down, trailing your fingers lightly along his jaw. “You want to take them off?” you asked, your voice calm but laced with intrigue.

“Yes,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly. “Please.”

The corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk as you leaned back slightly, letting your hands rest at your sides. “Alright,” you said simply. “Go ahead.”

Yunho’s breath hitched, his wide eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before flicking downward again. His large hands trembled slightly as he reached out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of your dress. The soft fabric bunched beneath his fingers as he pushed it up slowly, revealing more of your thighs with each passing second.

His movements were careful, almost reverent, as though he was afraid of going too fast or doing something wrong. You watched him intently, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the way his hands lingered just above the waistband of your panties, hesitating.

“Go on,” you encouraged softly, your voice breaking the silence.

Yunho nodded, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric. The heat of his hands against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel his breath hitch as he began to slide the material down. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you could see the way his cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

As the panties slid past your knees, then down to your ankles, Yunho carefully lifted them away, his hands brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath catch. He held them for a moment, his gaze flickering between the fabric in his hands and your face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You leaned forward slightly, placing a hand under his chin to tilt his face back up to yours. “Good boy,” you murmured, your voice warm and full of approval.

Yunho’s breath hitched at the praise, his dark eyes searching yours for a moment before he whispered, “Thank you.”

Yunho’s forehead rested against your knees, and his breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His large hands, which had been lingering just above your thighs, tightened their hold ever so slightly, his thumbs brushing over the soft curves as if testing the limits of how far he could go.

You tilted your head, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched him. There was something intoxicating about seeing someone as tall and confident as Yunho in this position, completely at your mercy, waiting for your permission to do anything more.

“Yuyu,” you said softly, your tone laced with a hint of teasing.

He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, his dark eyes searching yours as if waiting for your next command. “Yes?” he breathed, his voice trembling slightly.

You leaned forward, your hand slipping under his chin to tilt his face up toward you. “You’re shaking,” you murmured, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Are you nervous, baby?”

“A little,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing. “I… I don’t want to mess up.”

You chuckled softly, your thumb brushing over his lower lip as you leaned in closer. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “You’re doing just fine. But if you really want to impress me…”

Yunho’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The way he looked at you—wide-eyed and eager, his lips slightly parted—sent a rush of heat through your body. You trailed your fingers down his jawline, your touch light and deliberate as you leaned back just enough to make him follow you with his gaze.

“Use your imagination,” you teased, your voice dripping with suggestion.

Yunho’s breath caught, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Slowly, hesitantly, his hands began to move, sliding up your thighs with a mix of confidence and nervousness. The warmth of his palms against your skin made your breath hitch, and you could see the way his dark eyes flickered with both anticipation and uncertainty.

“Can I…?” he started, his voice trembling.

“You don’t need to ask,” you interrupted softly, leaning back on your hands as you watched him. “Not this time.”

That was all the encouragement Yunho needed. His hands gripped your thighs more firmly, his thumbs tracing small circles as his head dipped forward. His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as his lips brushed against your inner thigh—soft, tentative, but enough to make your heart race.

“ah, fuck...” you murmured, your voice low but steady.

He froze, his lips hovering just above your skin as he looked up at you, his eyes wide with uncertainty.

“You’re being so good for me,” you said, your tone gentle but laced with authority. “Keep going.”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed even deeper, but the praise seemed to give him the confidence he needed. His lips pressed against your thigh again, more firmly this time, and the warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice teasing as you watched him.

Yunho pulled back just enough to look up at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and longing. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I… I just want to make you feel good.”

You smirked, leaning forward to trail your fingers through his dark hair. “Then don’t stop,” you said simply.

Yunho’s confidence surged at your praise, warmth flooding his chest as he felt a new determination take hold. He trailed soft kisses along your thighs, his heart racing with anticipation. The sweet scent of you mingled with the air around him, intoxicating and irresistible.

With every gentle nudge, he moved closer to where you wanted him most. Your cunt already slick and wet just for him. He could feel your excitement beneath him, and it only fueled his desire. As he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused for a moment, looking up at you for a brief second, seeking your approval.

“Please,” you encouraged softly, your voice a sultry whisper that sent a thrill through him.

That was all the permission he needed. Yunho leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed gentle kisses against your pussy. The sensation made you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair as he began to explore with his tongue, teasing and tasting, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

He was meticulous, taking his time to savor every moment, every reaction from you. With each flick of his tongue, he learned what made you shiver, what made you gasp, and he committed it all to memory. Your taste was sweet, intoxicating, and he couldn’t get enough.

“You taste amazing,” he murmured against you, the vibrations sending delightful shivers through your body. He continued, growing bolder, driven by the sounds of your pleasure and the way you responded to him. He took his time, making sure to bring you to the edge, then pulling back just enough to keep you yearning for more.

“Yunnie..,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire, “don’t stop.”

Encouraged by your words, he dove back in with renewed fervor, his focus solely on your pleasure, lost in the moment, determined to show you just how good he could be. He sucked and gently bit your bud making you whine. You slowly started to grind on his face, as he pulled your legs apart more.

Yunho felt a rush of bliss as he continued his exploration, his lips working with purpose against you. His tongue moved with a deliberate, teasing rhythm, swirling and flicking with a newfound confidence. Each caress sent electric shocks through your body, igniting a fire that spread from your core to every nerve ending.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him, urging him to delve deeper. “Yunho,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with both need and admiration. You could feel the way he responded to your words, the way his movements became more fervent, more eager as he lost himself in the act of worship.

As his mouth moved in with your rising pleasure, Yunho gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to anchor himself as he pulled you closer. The sensation of his hands holding you firmly, coupled with the delicious pressure of his mouth, sent you spiraling into a dizzying haze of ecstasy. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, contrasting beautifully with the cool air around you, heightening every sensation.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your head thrown back as the pleasure built within you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate cocoon. Yunho’s eyes were dark with desire as he watched you, taking in every gasp, every shiver that coursed through your body. The sight of you utterly lost in pleasure fueled his own need to please. "s- such a good f- fucking boy.."

With a newfound intensity, he began to suck, his lips wrapping around you as he worked his tongue in swirling motions, alternating between teasing flicks and deep, passionate pulls. Each movement drew soft cries from your lips, and you could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Yunho, please,” you gasped, your voice thick with desperation. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the familiar ache that signaled you were close. “mngh.. k- keep going, baby.”

The words turned him on, and he increased his pace, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter as he held you in place. The pressure of his mouth against you was relentless, and you could feel every movement, every sensation magnified. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought sent shivers of delight coursing through you.

With every flick of his tongue, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. You could feel your own body responding to him, the way your core tightened with each delicious pull. It was intoxicating, and you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in this moment with him.

“Baby,” you moaned, your voice trembling as you lost yourself in the sensations. Your fingers twisted in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, as if you could pull him into you entirely. He responded with a low groan, the sound vibrating against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through your body.

He could sense your building pleasure, the way your breathing became erratic, and the way your hips instinctively began to move against him. It drove him wild, and he surrendered completely to the moment, focusing solely on your pleasure. He worshiped you, savoring each taste, each sound, as if you were the most exquisite delicacy he had ever encountered.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, but Yunho didn’t slow down. If anything, he pushed harder, his mouth working with fervor as he sought to bring you over the edge. "G- gonna cum.."

“Cum for me,” he urged, his voice muffled against you, and the raw need in his tone sent a thrill through you. “I want to taste you.”

With a final, desperate gasp, you felt the tension snap, your body arching as waves of pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you surrendered completely to the bliss that took over you. Your fingers tightened in his hair as the world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensations, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. You came all over his face as you whined and moaned, not caring if anyone else heard.

Yunho didn’t stop. He continued to suck gently, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you as you rode the waves of your orgasm. The sound of your pleasure spurred him on, and he reveled in the taste of you, in the way your body responded to him.

Finally, as the last tremors of pleasure subsided, he pulled back, looking up at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your eyes still glazed with the remnants of ecstasy. The sight of you, blissed out and completely at his mercy, filled him with a sense of pride, and a warmth spread through him.

“Did I do okay?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur filled with vulnerability. The question was almost shy, contrasting sharply with the confident way he had just brought you to the brink.

You smiled down at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You did more than okay, baby. You were incredible.” Your fingers brushed against his cheek, and you could see the relief wash over him. The connection between you felt electric, and you could sense the bond deepening in this shared moment of intimacy.

“Thank you,” he said, a shy smile breaking across his face. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“Oh, you definitely did,” you replied, your voice teasing but sincere. You pulled him up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you brought him closer, wanting to feel him against you. The warmth of his body pressed against you was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Now,” you said, your tone shifting as you met his gaze, “it’s my turn to show you just how much I appreciate that.”

His eyes widened slightly, a spark of excitement igniting within them. He was eager, a hint of shyness still lingering but overshadowed by the hunger he felt. “Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You could see the way his breath quickened, and it filled you with a sense of thrill. The night was far from over, and you were determined to take your time, to explore every inch of each other.

As you shifted beneath him, the world outside faded away once more. In this moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth and pleasure, ready to dive deeper into the intoxicating connection that bound you both.

As you pulled Yunho closer, you could feel the heat radiating from him, his body alive with the desire you had ignited. The air was thick with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken promises. You wanted to explore this newfound intimacy further, to see just how deep the connection could go.

“Come here,” you whispered, guiding him until he was seated beside you on the bed. The soft fabric felt cool against your heated skin, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body. You could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by the eagerness that lay beneath.

Yunho shifted, his gaze locked onto you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. It sent a thrill through you, knowing the power you held in this moment. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a soft, teasing kiss that ignited the spark between you once more.

“Let me take care of you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice low and sultry. You could see the way his breath hitched, the way his dark eyes widened with a mix of surprise and excitement.

With a gentle push, you guided him back onto the bed, your fingers trailing down his chest as you made your way toward his waist. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you slowly began to unbutton his pants, your fingers nimble and deliberate. Each button you released felt like a small victory, a step closer to fully unraveling him.

As the fabric fell away, revealing his toned legs, you could feel your pulse quicken. The moment you slipped his pants down, you were met with the unexpected sight of him—Yunho wasn’t wearing any boxers, and he was hard, fully exposed and waiting for you. precum already dripping from the tip of his cock. A rush of heat coursed through your body, and you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight.

“Shit,” you breathed, your eyes wide with admiration. “You’re beautiful.”

He let out a nervous laugh, the vulnerability in his expression only making him more irresistible. “I didn’t know how far this would go,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Neither did I,” you confessed, your voice a sultry whisper. “But I want to explore it with you.”

You could see the mixture of excitement and nerves in his eyes, and it only fueled your desire to show him just how much you wanted him. Leaning down, you placed soft kisses along his thighs, taking your time to savor the moment, to let your lips explore his skin. You could feel the tension beginning to build again, the way his breath quickened with every kiss.

As you reached the apex of his thighs, you paused, looking up at him for a brief moment. “Are you ready?” you asked, wanting to ensure he was comfortable.

“More than ready,” he replied, his voice thick with need.

With that, you took the plunge, wrapping your fingers around his length, feeling the warmth of him against your palm. The sensation sent a rush of excitement through you, and you began to move your hand slowly, deliberately, teasingly. The way he responded to your touch was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat building between you. He was big.. bigger than you thought.

“Just like that,” he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows. The sight of him completely lost in pleasure was enough to send your own heart racing. You continued to stroke him, your movements becoming more confident as you found a rhythm that made him gasp and moan beneath you. "O- oh.. mommy fuck.."

“look at you..” you murmured, your voice filled with desire. “Such a pretty cock.”

He let out a low groan, his fingers tangling in the sheets as he surrendered to the sensations. You watched as his body responded to you, the way his hips instinctively bucked against your hand, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him. Each movement, each sound, only fueled your desire to bring him to the edge.

You continued to jerk him off. you leaned down and teased him, by licking his tip as you continued to pump him.. His whines filled the room and were like music to your ears..

"M- mommy.."

"J- just like that.."

"Hnghh.. Fuckfuckfuck!"

You could feel the tension coiling within him, the way his breaths became erratic as you quickened your pace. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, and you could feel the electricity crackling between you, binding you in this intimate moment.

You had an idea.. Something you had always thought of, but never brought it up. You held his dick with one hand, making it stand straight up. Yunho looked at you, curious.. You flattened out your other hand and began rubbing your palm in a circular motion on the tip of his cock.. It send Yunho into shock. He immediately threw his head back against the pillow and started to whine like a puppy. His hands gripped the sheet as his toes started to curl..

"M- Mommy.. p- please.. oh God.."

You smirked, watching him squirm as you kept going with your action.. You liked this side of him. He was so vulnerable and submissive under your touch. Kind of like a little puppy.

“Don’t stop,” he gasped, his voice thick with urgency. “I’m so close.”

With those words, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his skin as you continued to stroke him, feeling the heat radiating from him. The sensation of your mouth so close to him sent an intoxicating thrill through you, and you could feel your own desire building in response. You then let go of his cock, earning a wince from him. He was so close.. So close to cumming in your hand..

“Yunho,” you whispered, looking up at him with sultry eyes. “I want to feel you inside me.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the desire flood his features. “Ar- are you sure?” he asked, his voice a mix of urgency and concern.

“More than anything,” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of what was to come. "Want to feel your cock.."

With a newfound determination, you shifted your position, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. As you lowered yourself, you could feel the weight of him pressing against you, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine. You took a moment to savor the feeling, to relish in the connection that was steadily building between you. You had to take a break from how big he was.. he wasn't even halfway in you yet..

Yunho’s hands found your waist, his fingers gripping you firmly as you positioned yourself above him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he was trembling with anticipation. As you lowered yourself further, you felt the delicious stretch as he entered you, filling you completely.

A gasp escaped your lips, and you could see the way his eyes widened in awe. The sensation was overwhelming, and you took a moment to adjust, to savor the fullness as you both connected in the most intimate way. You could feel the way he throbbed inside you, and it sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Y- you okay mama?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

“s'good.. so big,” you breathed, a smile breaking across your face. “W- want you to fuck me..”

With that invitation, Yunho began to thrust upward, his hands guiding your movements as you found a rhythm together. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate dance of pleasure. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, and you could feel the tension building once more. His cock hitting your g-spot over and over again. you were on the verge of tears.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice breathless as you rode him, feeling the way he filled you completely. The connection between you was electric, and you reveled in the way your bodies moved together, each thrust igniting a fire within you.

As the intensity grew, you could feel your own pleasure spiraling higher, the way your body responded to him perfectly, as if you were made for this. You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you looked down at him, your breath coming in short gasps.

Skin clapping filled the bedroom as you bounced up and down on him. He eventually took off the rest of your dress and threw it somewhere. He drooled at the sight of your perfect, round breast.

"Holy shit.." His veiny hands squeezed both of them, making you throw your head back, moaning his name. He pinched your nipples. He loved the sight of you. As he pinched your sensitive nubs, he glanced down at his cock disappearing into you. The way it was going in and out, He could just cum from that.

He pulled you closer, attaching his mouth on your right breast, him squeezing the other one. "yuyu.. A- ah.." You whimpered. He looked up at you as he bit your nub, like an innocent boy..

“Yunho,” you moaned, the sound escaping your lips as you felt the pleasure building to a peak. “I’m gonna cum..”

“Me too,” he gasped, his eyes dark with desire as he met your gaze. "C- can I cum inside o- of you, mommy?"

You nod, your boobs bouncing, as you rapidly go up and down on his cock once more, chasing your orgasm.

With a final thrust, you felt the tension snap, the waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out his name. You finished all over his cock, as you squirted a little bit.

Yunho followed shortly after, his body tensing beneath you as he let out a deep groan, the sound reverberating through you as he reached his own peak. His white ropes released inside of your tight walls. You could feel the warmth of him filling you, and it sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. Some of his cum dripped out of your cunt and onto his stomach.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, you collapsed against him, breathless and spent. You could feel his heart racing beneath you, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“fuck..” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “fuck, indeed,” you echoed, feeling content and blissful in the aftermath of your shared experience. The connection between you felt deeper than ever, and you could sense that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

In that moment, you knew that you had crossed a threshold together, a bond forged in passion and intimacy that would linger long after the night was over.

His gaze met yours, filled with a mix of hesitation and vulnerability that you’d never seen before. “Y/N...” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… need you. I love you...”

The weight of his confession settled between you, leaving the room thick with tension.

"I- I love you too, Yunnie.." You whisper back to him, a blush creeping on your cheeks.. Then you said something that made Yunho blush a little.

"You pantie thief.."

And for the first time, you wondered if this night had opened a door that neither of you could close...

[daisymbin]

Hello, I hope you are doing good... Well, it's my first time requesting, so please bare with me. Can you do prompt number 1 and 39 from the suggestive genre? Regency AU would be amazing for this story!

Perhaps strangers to enemies to lovers (no FWB twist, honestly speaking, I am bored of that twist coming in so) Omega reader and Alpha Cheol...

I'll be honest this is my first take on this type of au and this one took me quite awhile but I tried my best so please go easy on me 🥲

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

suggestive prompt #1: "if you keep looking at me like that, I might kiss you." +

suggestive prompt #39: "you're mine, remember that."

the grand ballroom was filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation, but your attention was nowhere near the polite chatter or the dancers gliding across the polished floor. your eyes were fixed on seungcheol, who stood across the room, looking far too at ease in his perfectly tailored coat, his sharp gaze never wavering from you.

alpha. that’s what he was. and you, an omega, were the last person he should have his eyes on, especially not in this setting where wolves like him ruled the land with their dominance and their power.

but that didn’t stop you from feeling the heat of his gaze, pulling at you in a way that made your heart race, your instincts stirring against the careful mask of composure you’d worked so hard to maintain. you hated how much it affected you, the way your body betrayed you every time he so much as glanced in your direction.

"you look like you're about to rip my throat out," seungcheol's voice broke through your thoughts, low and teasing as he appeared at your side, a wicked smile tugging at his lips.

you glared at him, turning slightly to face him. "maybe i should," you muttered, trying to keep your composure, but he only chuckled, as if the very idea amused him.

"careful, sweetheart," he warned, his voice darkening. "if you keep looking at me like that, i might kiss you."

you felt the blood rush to your cheeks, your heart hammering in your chest. it was impossible to ignore the tension between you two—seungcheol, the proud alpha, and you, the omega who had been taught from a young age to avoid provoking alphas like him.

but there was something about the way he carried himself, something in the way his scent—earthy and rich—clung to the air around him, that made it impossible for you to ignore.

"you’re bold for someone who knows nothing about the consequences," you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

seungcheol leaned in closer, the scent of his dominance enveloping you, making your pulse quicken. "oh, don't worry,i know exactly what i’m doing, omega," he murmured, the word tasting like a challenge on his tongue. "and i think you like it."

his presence was overwhelming. alpha energy rippled from him in waves, and despite yourself, you could feel your body responding; your scent slipping in the air, a subtle betrayal of your desire.

he caught it. of course, he did. his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, and his eyes darkened with something that made your breath catch.

"you can’t hide it, sweetheart," seungcheol whispered, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. "you’re mine. remember that."

your heart stuttered at the words. it was a claim, a warning, and an invitation all at once. his dominance was undeniable, and no matter how hard you fought it, you felt yourself being pulled in, the magnetic force of his presence drawing you closer, making your instincts rise to the surface.

"i’m not yours, i'm not anyone's," you shot back, though your voice lacked conviction. you tried to pull away, but the alpha wasn’t finished yet.

seungcheol’s grip tightened on your wrist, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your inner arm. "you don’t get to decide that," he growled softly. "you can fight it all you want, but you can’t deny the way your body reacts to me."

he tugged you towards him, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body seeping into your own. the scent of his arousal filled your senses, and you cursed the way your body reacted—how your omega instincts flared, how you couldn’t stop the flush of heat that crept down your neck and settled in the pit of your stomach.

"stop pretending," he whispered, lips brushing against your ear as he held you in place. "i can smell how you feel. you're mine, whether you want it or not."

before you could respond, seungcheol pulled you into a secluded alcove, away from the prying eyes of the ballroom. his hands were on you immediately, tugging you closer, his scent wrapping around you, overwhelming you.

"careful, sweetheart," he murmured, voice thick with desire as he pushed you against the wall. his lips ghosted over your neck, where the pulse of your omega scent was strongest, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body, burning you alive.

"seungcheol," you whispered, but the protest was weak, barely audible. he just chuckled darkly, one of his hands sliding down to your waist, the other tangling in your hair to hold your head in place.

"you want this, dont you?" he said, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "i can feel it. i can smell it."

he was right. the pull, the undeniable attraction, the way your body seemed to crave him—it was impossible to deny. your omega instincts were screaming for submission, and your heart was thundering in your chest, torn between pride and desire.

"admit it," he coaxed, pressing his lips against the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. "you want me. you’ve always wanted me."

you gasped as his hands slid down to your hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there, pulling you closer to him.

"say it," seungcheol demanded, his voice laced with both hunger and command. "say you want me, sweetheart."

"i want you," you breathed, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession.

his eyes gleamed with triumph, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. "good girl."

and then, without warning, his lips crashed onto yours. it was all fire and hunger—no more games, no more teasing. he kissed you like he’d been starving for this moment, and you kissed him back, every ounce of your body finally surrendering to the pull.

and in that moment, you accepted it. because there was no escaping him now.

his hands slid under your dress, pulling you onto him, his body fitting against yours in a way that made your head spin. “you’re mine, remember that,” he repeated again, as if reminding you of something you already knew, as if trying to ingrained it into your brain.

[hannie-roses]

i have a request 🥺! could you make leeknow x reader. it’s about leeknow having a thing for y/n yk and y/n LIKES SEUNGMIN so basically leeknow is doing everything in his power to make y/n like him but it’s tough since seungmin is y/n’s best friend and they have a shared history together. and leeknow be getting so jealous

Love’s crazy battle

Starring: leeknow, seungmin and y/n fab reader¡

Sypnosis: Y/N’s unbreakable bond with Seungmin feels like an impossible wall for Lee Know, who’s willing to risk everything for her love. He is consumed by jealousy but driven by hope, he fights to prove he’s more than second place. But seungmin gets jealous of the time she’s spending with him.Will Y/N see the love standing right in front of her, or will history win?

Warnings: slow burn, subtle smut

Word count:44.6k

Lee Know had always been a bit of a loner, reserved in his thoughts, but when it came to Y/N, everything changed. He could hardly think straight when she was around. His feelings for her had developed over timesubtle at first, a passing thought here or there, and then the realization that he was falling for her. Slowly, quietly, in a way that wasn’t so easy to ignore anymore.

But Y/N had her own thing going on. She wasn’t oblivious to him, not at all. Yet, she was always around Seungmin, always laughing at his jokes, always turning to him for everything, and Lee Know couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy each time he saw the two of them together. Seungmin was Y/N’s best friend, and their bond was undeniable.

Lee Know didn’t even know when it had happened, but the attraction had started to fester. Y/N had been there when he needed someone, but it wasn’t until recently that the idea of her not being in his life became unbearable.

The way she smiled, the way her eyes lit up when Seungmin said something funny it gnawed at him. I want that. I want her to look at me like that, he thought, staring at her from across the room. She was sitting on the couch, reading, while Seungmin was beside her, his voice animated as he spoke.

Why does it always have to be Seungmin? Lee Know thought bitterly. Why can’t it be me?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize Hyunjin was sitting beside him until his friend spoke.

“You’re staring again, Minho.”

Lee Know snapped out of it, his gaze immediately shifting to Hyunjin. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he didn���t even notice how obvious he was being.

“Uh, sorry,” Lee Know muttered, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

Hyunjin smirked, nudging him lightly. “It’s not like you to get so worked up over a girl.”

Lee Know glared at him, but there was a hint of frustration in his voice. “It’s not just any girl, Hyunjin. It’s Y/N.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that explains it. But why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lee Know sighed. “She’s always with Seungmin. I don’t stand a chance.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his voice turning serious. “Minho, you won’t know until you try. She might feel the same way.”

Lee Know didn’t respond right away. The thought of confronting Y/N, of putting his feelings out there and risking their friendship, terrified him. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding his emotions. Not when his heart ached every time he saw her smile at Seungmin.

Days passed, and Lee Know found himself drawn to Y/N more and more. The way she laughed, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, it was like she had a gravity all her own, pulling him closer despite the circumstances. It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself anymore, and his heart betrayed him every time he caught himself staring.

One day, the three of them Y/N, Seungmin, and Lee Know were having lunch in the park. Seungmin and Y/N were discussing something that seemed trivial, but it was enough to make Lee Know seethe with jealousy. They were so natural together, so comfortable.

Why does she turn to him so easily? Lee Know thought, pushing his food around on his plate. Does she even see me?

As if sensing the growing tension in the air, Y/N turned to Lee Know, her expression softening. “Minho, you’re awfully quiet today. What’s on your mind?”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. She was looking at him—looking directly at him, her eyes full of concern.

“Nothing,” Lee Know replied quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… tired.”

Seungmin, of course, didn’t miss the subtle tension. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird lately. You usually joke around more.”

Lee Know’s gaze flicked to Seungmin, and for the briefest moment, he felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. Why does it always come so easily for him?

But he pushed it down, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said with a tight smile.

Y/N, however, didn’t buy it. “You’re sure?” she asked again, this time her voice softer.

Why is she being so gentle with me? Lee Know thought. Maybe… maybe there’s more to this than I realize.

Seungmin seemed oblivious to the moment. “Anyway, did you hear about that new cafe opening downtown? Y/N and I should go check it out sometime, maybe this weekend.”

Lee Know felt the pit of his stomach drop. Of course she would go with him, he thought bitterly, although he didn’t show it on the outside.

Y/N glanced at him, catching the edge of his expression. “What do you think, Minho? Would you want to come?”

Lee Know blinked, caught off guard by her sudden question. She’s asking me? It didn’t make sense. Why would she want me to go?

“I… I guess,” Lee Know said, his voice faltering slightly. “Sure. I could come.”

Y/N smiled, a genuine smile that made his heart race. “Great! It’ll be fun.”

Over the next few days, Lee Know found himself spending more and more time with Y/N. It started off casually, with her inviting him along on errands or to grab a coffee, but soon, the interactions became more personal. They shared quiet moments in the library, exchanging thoughts on their coursework. He found himself confiding in her more than he ever had before.

She’s different with me now, Lee Know thought one evening as they sat on a park bench, sharing stories about their childhoods. I never realized how easy it could be to talk to her.

Y/N, unaware of the growing connection between them, laughed lightly as she told him a funny story about Seungmin.

“I swear, sometimes I think Seungmin is more dramatic than I am,” Y/N said, chuckling. “He can’t take a joke to save his life.”

Lee Know smiled, but there was a flicker of something darker behind his eyes. I don’t want to hear about Seungmin anymore. I want to talk about us. But I can’t say that.

“I’m sure he’s just being dramatic,” Lee Know said, his voice lighter than he felt. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he changed the subject. “You seem to get along with him really well.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “We’ve known each other for years. We’re like family.”

Lee Know felt his chest tighten at her words. Like family. And what am I?

But he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he pushed the thought away, focusing on the warmth of her presence beside him. It felt nice. It felt right.

But as the days passed, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that Seungmin was still in the picture—still the one Y/N would turn to. I can’t keep letting this happen. I have to make my move.

It wasn’t long before Seungmin began to notice the shift. Lee Know and Y/N were spending more time together, and it was starting to get under his skin. He was Y/N’s best friend, her confidant. They had history, a bond that couldn’t be broken. Or so he thought.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day of studying, Seungmin confronted Lee Know. They were walking down the street, heading to a nearby cafe when Seungmin finally spoke up.

“Minho, we need to talk.”

Lee Know raised an eyebrow, his nerves already on edge. “About what?”

Seungmin’s eyes narrowed, his voice low. “About Y/N.”

Lee Know’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes.

“Y/N’s been spending a lot of time with you lately,” Seungmin continued, his tone defensive. “And I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Lee Know’s jaw clenched. “I’m not trying to steal her from you, Seungmin,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “She’s her own person. I can’t control who she spends time with.”

Seungmin’s expression darkened. “You’ve always been a little too interested in her, Minho. I’m starting to think there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Lee Know’s patience was wearing thin. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Seungmin took a step closer, his tone growing more intense. “I see the way you look at her. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

Lee Know froze, his heart pounding in his chest. How does he know?

“I—” Lee Know began, but he didn’t know what to say.

Seungmin’s eyes softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. “You better figure it out, Minho. I don’t want to lose her to you.”

It all came to a head one evening when Lee Know was hanging out with Y/N at a small café. They were sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing at all, when Seungmin suddenly barged in, his expression dark.

“You’re spending a lot of time with him, huh?” Seungmin said, his voice laced with tension. He didn’t even greet Y/N first, his eyes locked on Lee Know.

Y/N blinked in surprise, but Lee Know wasn’t phased. “We’re just hanging out,” he said evenly, trying to keep his cool.

Seungmin’s gaze flickered to Y/N, who was looking between the two of them, clearly sensing the change in the atmosphere. “I don’t know if I like this, Minho,” Seungmin said, his voice low but sharp. “You’ve been acting different around her lately.”

Lee Know’s temper flared, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What’s your problem, Seungmin?”

Y/N’s eyes darted between them. “what’s happening right now?”

But before either of them could respond, Seungmin raised his voice. “You’re acting like you’re her only friend now, Minho. I don’t like it.”

Lee Know stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not trying to replace you, Seungmin. I’m just… trying to be there for her.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and Y/N looked uncomfortable, clearly caught in the middle of their argument.

Seungmin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “It’s not about replacing me, it’s about the way you’ve been acting. You can’t just swoop in and expect things to change just because you decided to—”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Lee Know interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m not doing anything wrong, okay? I’m just trying to be her friend, the same as you.”

Y/N stood up now, stepping between them, her eyes wide with alarm. “Stop! Both of you, stop!” Her voice was loud, but there was panic in it, like she was afraid things might actually get out of hand.

Seungmin looked at her for a moment, his expression softening. “I’m just… trying to make sure he knows his place,” he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know shot Seungmin a glare, and for a split second, their eyes locked, both of them silent, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air. Neither one of them was willing to back down.

“I’m not trying to take anyone’s place,” Lee Know said, voice tight, but now quieter. “I’m just… here, like you are. What’s the problem with that?”

Y/N’s gaze flitted between them, her heart racing. She wanted to scream at both of them to stop acting like children, but the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe.

“I just want things to stay the way they were,” Seungmin said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want things to get… complicated.”

Lee Know turned to Y/N, his gaze softening just a little as he tried to gauge her reaction. She was still standing there, uncertain, caught in the middle of a battle she hadn’t signed up for. She looks so lost, Lee Know thought, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was contributing to the mess.

“I don’t want things to change either,” Lee Know said, his voice steady but not without frustration. “But I’m not going to back off just because you’re uncomfortable with it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked at him, then back at Y/N. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, clenching his jaw. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the café, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

Lee Know stayed where he was, his chest tight. He hadn’t won, but the argument wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Y/N took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Lee Know didn’t know what to say either. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he just stood there, watching her as she struggled with everything between them.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

She met his gaze, her eyes searching his face for something, anything. “I… I think I just need some time to think.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for the first time, Lee Know truly realized how complicated things had become. He didn’t want to lose her, but at this rate, he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

Y/N had left the café with a soft promise to see them later, but the air was thick with unsaid words and heavy thoughts. As soon as the door closed behind her, the atmosphere between Lee Know and Seungmin changed. What had been simmering beneath the surface now exploded in full force.

Lee Know’s fingers clenched around his coffee cup, the hot liquid now forgotten. He watched as Seungmin sat back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression stormy.

Seungmin’s voice broke the silence first. “You’ve been acting like you’ve got some claim on her, Minho. You think she needs you more than me?”

Lee Know didn’t flinch. “I’m not the one making things awkward,” he said coolly, his voice dangerously calm. “I’ve just been here, trying to be her friend. You’re the one acting like I’m stealing something from you.”

Seungmin’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and something deeper—something darker. “Don’t even act like you don’t know what’s going on, Minho. You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been sniffing around her for weeks, and it’s pathetic. She’s my best friend. You don’t get to just waltz in and play the hero.”

Lee Know’s fists tightened. He knew this was coming. Seungmin had been avoiding the truth for too long. But now, there was no denying it—Seungmin was jealous, and not just a little.

“I’m not trying to ‘play the hero,’ Seungmin,” Lee Know snapped, his voice low but seething. “I don’t need to play games with her. But it’s clear you’ve been hiding behind this act, pretending like everything’s fine. You’re scared of what might happen if she knows how you really feel.”

Seungmin stood up abruptly, the table creaking under the sudden movement. “You have no right to say anything about how I feel! You don’t get to dictate what happens between us, Minho. You need to stay the hell away from her.”

Lee Know’s eyes hardened, the challenge in Seungmin’s words hitting him like a physical blow. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” His voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. “You want me to just back off and pretend like nothing’s happening? That we’re all just friends here? Because that’s not how it works.”

Seungmin sneered. “You don’t know anything about how this works. You’re just some guy trying to get into her head. You don’t even care about her. You just want to prove you’re better than me.”

Lee Know leaned in, his chest tightening as his frustration began to spill over. “I care about her more than you’ve ever made her feel, Seungmin. So don’t you dare try to act like you’ve got some kind of claim on her. I’m not backing down. If anything, you’re the one who’s been messing things up.”

Seungmin’s face twisted in fury, his hands trembling with rage. “You think you’re better than me? You think she’ll just drop everything and choose you over me? She’s not going to want some guy who only showed up when it was convenient. I’ve been here for her since the beginning, Minho.”

Lee Know stood up, his breath quickening as he took a step toward Seungmin. “You don’t know what she needs, Seungmin. You���re so busy pretending everything’s fine that you can’t see she’s struggling. You think she wants someone who won’t even admit their feelings?”

“Shut up!” Seungmin shouted, his voice breaking through the tension like a thunderclap. “You don’t know anything about her! You’re not better than me. You’re just a distraction.”

Lee Know’s eyes flashed with fury, his heart pounding in his chest. “A distraction? You think I’m a distraction to her? You think she’s going to look at you and think you’re the one who truly understands her?”

Seungmin’s lips curled into a bitter grin. “At least I didn’t wait until she was falling apart to finally decide I’m interested. You only care about her now because you see a chance to win. You’re just a stupid fucking low life idiot and that’s why nobody likes with you.”

That was it. The words hit Lee Know like a punch to the gut. His vision blurred with anger. He was done. The quiet rage that had been simmering inside him finally boiled over.

Without thinking, Lee Know’s fist shot out, slamming into Seungmin’s face with a sickening thud. The force of the punch sent Seungmin crashing backward into the table, knocking it over with a loud bang. Coffee spilled everywhere, the sharp smell of spilled liquid filling the air.

For a moment, the café was silent. Lee Know stood there, breathing heavily, his knuckles throbbing from the impact. Seungmin’s face was flushed with pain, but his eyes burned with something darker. Something more dangerous.

“You want to keep talking?” Lee Know’s voice was raw, almost unrecognizable with the anger that bubbled up from deep within. “Keep running your mouth. I’m done with this.”

Seungmin stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his lip. His eyes locked with Lee Know’s, and for the first time, Lee Know could see the full force of Seungmin’s jealousy and frustration. Seungmin had always been the calm one, the rational one, but now he was wild, unraveling at the seams.

“You think that’ll solve everything?” Seungmin hissed. “You think throwing a punch is going to make her choose you? You’re wrong, Minho. You’re just as selfish as I am. We’re both just a couple of idiots fighting over the same girl.”

Lee Know didn’t back down. “Maybe, but I’m not going to let you push me around anymore.”

The two of them were standing face to face now, chest to chest, fists clenched and breath coming fast. Neither one of them was willing to back off.

Seungmin’s eyes flared with rage as he lunged at Lee Know, throwing a wild punch that collided with Lee Know’s jaw. The force of the hit sent him staggering back, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he swung his own fist at Seungmin’s face, landing a blow to his cheek.

The fight was messy, chaotic. Every punch, every shove was fueled by jealousy, by frustration, by the raw emotion they both couldn’t control. Both of them had wanted Y/N, and neither of them was willing to admit it openly. But now, the weight of their feelings had led them to this a brutal, ugly fight neither of them had ever imagined.

Hyunjin burst through the door at that moment, eyes wide with shock as he rushed toward them, trying to break the fight up. “Enough!” he shouted, grabbing both of them by the shoulders and pulling them apart with surprising strength.

Lee Know stood there, chest heaving, his blood pounding in his ears. Seungmin wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes filled with something unreadable. Hyunjin didn’t let go of them immediately, his grip firm as he looked between the two.

“You both need to calm down,” Hyunjin said, his voice more controlled than it had been just a moment ago. “This… this isn’t helping anyone.”

Lee Know didn’t respond. His mind was racing, his emotions a mess. The fight had escalated so quickly, but now that it was over, it felt like a hollow victory. What had it solved? Nothing. It hadn’t solved anything. He wanted to be the one Y/N turned to, but now… now he wasn’t sure how to fix things.

The fight had been messy. Lee Know had left the café first, walking out without another word to anyone. He had stormed off, his mind racing with everything that had happened. But now, the dust had settled—sort of.

Seungmin, on the other hand, wasn’t in a much better place. He had lingered for a while, still processing everything that had just happened. It was hard not to feel the burn of that fight, the sting of Lee Know’s words, the punch that had landed with a resounding smack against his cheek. But what really gnawed at him wasn’t the physical pain; it was the fact that Y/N hadn’t been there to witness it.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the truth stung.

The truth was, Y/N was starting to see Lee Know differently. He could see it in the way she looked at him when he was around. The tension in the air when the three of them were together was almost unbearable, and Seungmin hated it. He hated how Lee Know seemed to be inching closer to Y/N every day.

But the next day was different. Y/N had agreed to hang out with him. It wasn’t just another group gathering; it was just the two of them, the way things used to be. Seungmin had invited her over to his house, and she’d agreed without hesitation. Maybe, just maybe, he could regain the comfort he had with her before all of this tension had begun. Before everything had changed.

The air in Seungmin’s apartment felt heavier than usual as Y/N stepped inside. She always loved coming here—his space felt comfortable, familiar, like home. But today, it was different. Everything felt strange, as if something was shifting beneath the surface.

Seungmin greeted her with a casual smile, but his eyes held something deeper. There was a tension there, a wariness that Y/N couldn’t quite place. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fight she’d witnessed between him and Lee Know just a few days ago. Things had changed between them ever since. And though she tried to ignore it, a part of her couldn’t help but feel the shift feel it in the way they both looked at her, in the moments of silence that stretched too long.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Seungmin asked, trying to sound casual. He motioned toward the couch. “We could watch a movie or just hang out… Whatever you feel like.”

Y/N nodded, stepping further into the room. She felt drawn to the couch, sinking into its softness. But as she did, her eyes fell on Seungmin’s arm. Her gaze lingered for a moment, and she froze. There was a bruise on his forearm, just above his sleeve.

“Seungmin… what happened?” she asked, her voice soft, but sharp with concern. She stood up slightly, her eyes locked on the purple-blue mark.

He paused, looking down at the bruise as if he had just remembered it was there. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, though it was humorless. “It’s nothing,” he said, brushing it off. “I… got into a bit of a scuffle with Lee Know. Nothing serious.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had hoped it wasn’t related to the fight, but now that she saw the bruise, the tension between them felt even more palpable. She sat back down, her thoughts racing.

A part of her wanted to ask more, wanted to know the truth about what had happened, but another part of her knew it wouldn’t do any good. The distance between Seungmin and Lee Know was growing, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. It was like they were both pulling in different directions, and she was caught in the middle.

“I didn’t know it had gotten that bad,” Y/N finally said, her voice quieter now. She couldn’t help but look at the bruise again.

Seungmin shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he repeated. “I’m fine. You don’t need to stress about it.”

But Y/N wasn’t so sure. She studied him, her eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his hand tightened around the edge of the couch. There was more beneath the surface, and she could feel it in her bones.

“Okay,” she said softly, though the worry in her chest didn’t go away. She changed the subject, trying to push the awkwardness aside. “What have you been up to lately?”

Seungmin leaned back, trying to relax, but Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the armrest.

“Same old stuff,” he replied, but his voice was distracted. “School, work, and dealing with… everything else.” His eyes flicked toward her, searching for something in her expression. “I haven’t had much time to… think about anything else.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his words. The way he said it made her wonder—was he talking about Lee Know? Or was he talking about something else entirely?

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought.

They sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Y/N shifted on the couch, her body feeling warmer as the space between them seemed to shrink.

“So,” Y/N began, trying to lighten the mood, “What do you want to do today? Really, I’m good with anything.”

Seungmin glanced at her, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “How about we just… hang out? No pressure.”

Y/N smiled, though her mind was still caught on the bruise. It was hard to focus on anything else when she could still feel the weight of it in the air. She shifted again, glancing down at her phone, but when she looked up, she found Seungmin watching her—his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that she wasn’t quite used to.

It was like everything in the room slowed for a moment. The sound of her own breath filled her ears, and for a brief second, she wondered if she could hear his heart beating too. They were sitting so close now, the space between them feeling like nothing at all.

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she noticed how his eyes dropped to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. She held her breath, unsure of what to do, her mind swirling with thoughts she couldn’t quite put into words.

Seungmin leaned forward slightly, just enough for Y/N to feel the heat from his body. His breath brushed against her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. Her heart thudded in her chest, the anticipation thick in the air.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and almost a whisper. “I…”

Before he could finish, Y/N’s eyes flickered to his lips again, and that was all the invitation Seungmin needed.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between them. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was light, almost hesitant, but the moment their lips met, it felt like the world had shifted.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her hand reaching up to rest against his chest. Her heart pounded in her chest as Seungmin deepened the kiss, his hands gently cupping her face. Everything else faded away—the fight, the tension, the complicated emotions swirling around them.

It was just them now.

Y/N pulled away first, her face flushed with heat, her breath shaky. She stared at Seungmin, her heart still racing as the weight of what had just happened sank in.

“Seungmin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she tried to steady herself. “What are we doing?”

His forehead rested against hers, his hands still gently holding her face. His breath was heavy, matching her own, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the thumping of their hearts, beating in sync.

“I don’t know,” Seungmin whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N felt the tension between them pull tighter, the air around them crackling with intensity. There was no going back now, but as much as she wanted to give in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change. Something that might tear them apart.

But in that moment, with his lips hovering just inches from hers, she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

The following day, the weight of everything that had happened the day before lingered heavily on Y/N’s mind. The kiss with Seungmin the one that had caught her completely off guardwas still on her lips, like a taste she couldn’t quite shake off. But today, she needed to focus. She wasn’t about to let one moment complicate things more than it already had. She couldn’t.

But then, there was Lee Know.

She tried not to notice the way his eyes followed her every move, the subtle way he lingered at the edges of her vision. He was always around. It made her uncomfortable and yet… something about it tugged at her in a way she couldn’t fully understand.

Seungmin, on the other hand, had been quieter today. Y/N caught him stealing glances at her in between classes, but the energy between them felt different unsure, like the weight of their unspoken feelings hung between them, thick and heavy. She liked him. She definitely did. But something inside her was still unsure. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something she was missing.

It wasn’t just about Seungmin. Lee Know had been in the background, too, his presence so constant it was impossible to ignore. But there was nothing she could do about that, right? He had always been a little mysterious, a little aloof. And she didn’t need more complication in her life right now.

The school day dragged on, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. As the final bell rang, Y/N grabbed her bag and headed for the doors, ready to meet Seungmin outside. She had promised him they’d hang out. Just the two of them.

But as she walked through the crowded hallway, she couldn’t help but notice that all the noise seemed to fade away, and all she could hear was the rhythmic beat of her heart in her chest. The feeling of someone watching her sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slightly, her heart skipping a beat.

There he was.

Lee Know was standing at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the lockers, his eyes locked onto hers. His usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by a steady, unreadable gaze. Y/N felt her pulse quicken despite herself. She told herself it was nothing, that it was just Lee Know being his usual self.

But there was something different today.

Before she could look away, Lee Know pushed himself off the lockers and started walking toward her. He moved with a purposeful calm, and each step seemed to slow down the world around them.

Y/N’s hand tightened around the strap of her bag. She was supposed to be meeting Seungmin—why did Lee Know always have a way of pulling her in? She could feel the tension building in the pit of her stomach as he got closer.

She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fact that she was meeting Seungmin, but Lee Know’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and smooth, and it stopped her in her tracks.

She turned toward him, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Lee Know, what’s up?”

He stopped right in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His eyes were intense, fixed firmly on her, but his expression remained unreadable. There was a flicker of something there, something deeper than just his usual teasing.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” His voice was quieter now, more serious than she’d ever heard it.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, she felt the familiar hand on her shoulder. Seungmin’s face appeared in her line of sight, confusion written all over it.

“Y/N, are you ready to go?” Seungmin asked, his gaze flickering between her and Lee Know.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to spend time with Seungmin, but the way Lee Know was looking at her now… it was different. She could feel the unspoken challenge in the air. She could feel the pull between them, an almost magnetic force.

Lee Know didn’t look at Seungmin. He didn’t acknowledge him at all. His eyes stayed focused on Y/N, unwavering.

“You know I was just about to head out with Seungmin, right?” Y/N tried to keep her tone light, even though she could feel her heart beating faster.

“I know,” Lee Know replied, his voice oddly calm. “But this won’t take long. I just need a minute with you.”

Y/N glanced at Seungmin, but his face was hard to read, his expression tight. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, his attention focused solely on Lee Know.

“Seungmin, it’s okay,” Y/N said softly, trying to smooth over the tension. “I’ll be right back.”

Seungmin nodded, but his jaw was clenched, his eyes still wary as Y/N was gently led away by Lee Know down the hallway.

Y/N felt a sudden chill run down her spine as Lee Know guided her toward an empty classroom. The air felt heavier, charged with something that made her stomach tighten. Her mind racedwhat was he going to say? Why was he acting like this?

Lee Know opened the door, and Y/N stepped inside before him. She didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on before the door shut behind them with a soft click. She turned, about to speak, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the way Lee Know was looking at her. His eyes were darker now, his posture rigid, and there was no trace of the usual playful demeanor. He was all business now.

“Lee Know, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart pounding.

He didn’t answer right away, only closed the space between them with deliberate steps. His gaze never left her face, and it made her feel exposed, like he could see right through her. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating.

“Why do you always let him have you?” Lee Know’s voice was low, almost dangerous, as he spoke. There was an edge to it, a frustration that had been building for too long.

Y/N blinked, not sure how to respond. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “You know exactly what I mean. The way you look at him. The way you let him get under your skin. It’s so… obvious.”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind scrambling to keep up with his words. “I don’t Lee Know, I don’t understand. Seungmin is just my friend.”

Lee Know’s lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn’t playful. It was bitter. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

Her pulse quickened as he took another step closer. “I told you, it’s not like that between us.”

“I don’t buy it.” Lee Know’s voice was steady, but there was an undeniable fire in his words. “You think you can have him and have me too? That you can keep playing this game?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his face came dangerously close to hers. Her heart thudded erratically in her chest. “What do you want from me?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Lee Know’s eyes softened for a split second, and in that moment, she saw the intensity of what he was feeling something raw, something desperate.

“I want you to see me,” he said quietly, almost like a confession. “I want you to see what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Y/N’s heart raced as the tension between them built to an almost unbearable level. She was frozen, unsure of what was happening, of what he wanted. But she couldn’t deny that the pull between them was undeniable. The words hung in the air like a silent promise, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

Y/N’s pulse was hammering in her ears as she stood there, locked in the classroom with Lee Know. The space between them seemed to shrink with every breath she took. She tried to gather her thoughts, but all she could focus on was the intensity in his eyes, the way he was standing so close, his presence overwhelming in the small, empty room.

“Lee Know, I…” Y/N began, her voice shaky. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but there were so many emotions bubbling up inside herconfusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

He watched her, silent and still, his gaze never leaving hers. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was waiting for her to say something that would make this whole thing make sense.

Y/N swallowed hard, her breath coming faster as she looked up at him. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this? Why are you pulling me away from Seungmin like this?”

Lee Know’s expression softened for a brief moment, but his gaze was still intense, searching her face like he was trying to read her every thought. He took another step closer, closing the distance between them even more. She could feel his breath on her skin now, each exhale a reminder of how close they were.

“Because you don’t see it, Y/N,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly vulnerable. “You don’t see me. You never have.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go. The classroom felt smaller with every passing second, the walls closing in on her as Lee Know continued to advance. Her mind was racing, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. Why was this happening? Why was it so hard to breathe?

“You’re not just a friend to me,” Lee Know said, his voice almost a whisper now. “You never were. And I’ve tried to show you, in every way I could, but you always ran back to Seungmin.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to say something, anything, to make sense of this, but nothing felt right. Her heart was telling her one thing, but her mind was still tangled in knots.

“You don’t understand,” she finally managed to say, her voice breaking slightly. “I never wanted to hurt you. But… Seungmin… he’s my friend. I don’t know how to—”

Lee Know cut her off, his voice suddenly fierce, intense. “You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know how much he means to you?” His eyes burned with frustration, but there was something else there too something darker, something desperate. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. But why does it always have to be him, Y/N? Why can’t it be me?”

Y/N felt a rush of heat spread across her chest, her mind racing to make sense of his words. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat, and her breath was coming in shallow gasps. She wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but her body betrayed her. She couldn’t move.

His face was inches from hers now, his hands resting at his sides, fists clenched, as though he was holding himself back. But she could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes flickered down to her lips, and she knew.

He wanted this.

She wanted this too.

And yet, the tension was suffocating. The silence between them stretched out, thick and heavy, until it felt like the air itself was crackling with something dangerous.

“Lee Know,” she whispered, barely able to breathe, “what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently against her arm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she instinctively stepped closer, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t deny.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek, and she closed her eyes, the sensation overwhelming.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft, pleading, as if he was waiting for her to give him permission. “Please…”

And then, without another word, he leaned in, closing the final gap between them.

Her heart stopped in her chest as his lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the moment their lips met, the floodgates opened. All the tension, all the unspoken words, the emotions that had been building between them for weeksthey were released in that one moment.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Y/N’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of him so close, so warm, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that matched her own.

For the first time, the confusion, the tension, the fear it all melted away. There was only Lee Know. Only the way he made her feel.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they tried to steady their breathing. Y/N’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart still racing in her ears.

Lee Know’s hand was still gently cupping her face, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t want to be just another guy to you, Y/N,” Lee Know murmured, his voice hoarse. “I want to be the one you choose. The one you see.”

Y/N felt a rush of conflicting emotions swirl inside her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. And yet, there was something about being with him in this moment that made everything else fade away.

“I…” Y/N started, but the words stuck in her throat. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. She was caught between the pull of her feelings for Seungmin and the overwhelming intensity of what she felt for Lee Know.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Take your time, Y/N,” he said softly. “But don’t keep running from me.”

Y/N stood there, her mind racing, trying to process what had just happened. She had never expected this never imagined she’d be caught in the middle of such a storm. But here she was, with Lee Know standing so close, his presence impossible to ignore.

Lee Know pressed his forehead to hers, his breath still shallow as they lingered in the moment. He leaned in again, his lips meeting hers with more urgency this time, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, the heat between them intensifying. The air between them was thick, charged with everything they’d both been holding back.

As he kisses her he moves her up onto the desk.his hands roaming her body.

While kissing her hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth with an insistent need. His hands roamed over her body, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. He could feel the heat of her skin through her clothes, and it only fueled his desire.

He then steps between her legs as he pressed his body against hers. His hands moved to her thighs, tracing small circles against her skin as he continued to kiss her, his lips moving down to her neck.

He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, marking her as his own.

"Minho..." Y/N gasped, her voice laced with desire.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at her. "You're so pretty" he growled, his hands gripping her hips.

He leaned in to capture her lips again, this time more forcefully but gentle making sure not to hurt her. He was claiming her.

He began to kiss down her neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He wanted everyone to know that she was his, that he had claimed her body and soul.

Y/N could feel his arousal pressing against her, a reminder of how much he wanted her. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch.

In this moment she forgets seungmin is waiting for her outside.

Lee Know's hands moved to the waistband of her pants, his fingers hooking under the fabric as he began to tug them down. He pulled them off in one swift motion, tossing them aside without a care.

He then turned his attention to his own pants, quickly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down just enough to free himself, his hardness pressing against her through his boxers.

He let out a low groan as he pressed himself against her, the thin layer of fabric between them doing little to dull the sensation. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough with need.

"Please, Minho..." Y/N begged, her body trembling with anticipation.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying the effect he had on her. "Please what, baby?" he asked, his lips brushing against her ear.

She could feel his hot breath against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "I need you," she whispered, her hands clutching at his shirt.

He smirked, his hands roaming over her body as he teased her. "You're so desperate for me," he said, his voice low and husky. "I am too so of course~"

Lee Know's fingers slid under the waistband of her underwear, slowly peeling them down her legs. He tossed them aside as well, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her bare before him.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his body tense with anticipation. He teased her for a moment, running the tip of his cock along her slick folds, making her whimper with need.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So ready for me to take you."

He couldn't wait any longer. He pushed into her, groaning as her tight heat enveloped him. "Fuck," he hissed, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Y/N moans quiet, her back arching as he filled her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside her, the way her body clenched around him.

"You feel so good," he repeated, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for me."

Lee Know picked up the pace, his hips slamming into her with a relentless force. The desk creaked beneath them, the sound echoing through the empty classroom.

Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans growing louder with each thrust. She couldn't control the sounds that escaped her lips, her body too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. She bites her lip to muffle it.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice rough with need. "Let me hear you."

He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his teeth as he continued to pound into her. She cried out at the sensation, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him desperately.

Lee Know's pace became frantic, his need for release taking over. He could feel his own climax building, the tension coiling tightly in his gut.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot inside her that made her scream. And scream she did, her body arching off the desk as pleasure coursed through her.

"I'm close," he grunted, his breath hot against her skin. "Cum for me, y/n. I want to feel you come undone around me."

Lee Know's movements became more erratic, his body tense as he chased his release. He could feel her walls fluttering around him, a sure sign that she was close.

his voice ragged. "Let go for me."

He continued to thrust into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Just as he felt her walls clench tightly around him, he pulled out, spilling himself on her stomach with a strangled groan.

After that and they got dressed and Lee know made sure she was okay. But then y/n remembers seungmin is waiting for her.

Y/N quickly fixed her pants, her heart racing as she glanced at Lee Know, who was pulling his shirt back over his head. The silence between them was heavy, but neither of them dared to break it. She didn’t even want to look at him—not because of regret, but because she wasn’t ready to face what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Lee Know said softly, his voice tentative. He was standing there, watching her, his eyes full of questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

But Y/N shook her head quickly, brushing her hair out of her face as she grabbed her bag from the desk. “Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her. “We can’t… talk about this. Not now.”

Lee Know frowned, his jaw tightening as he took a step closer. “So, what? You’re just going to pretend this didn’t happen?”

She hesitated for a moment, her hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I have to go,” she said, sidestepping him and heading for the door. She felt his gaze on her the entire time, burning into her back, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

Her mind was spinning as she stepped into the hallway, quickly smoothing down her clothes and forcing her expression to stay neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see that something had changed, that everything had changed.

The moment she saw Seungmin waiting for her near the lockers, her heart twisted painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, his easy, familiar smile, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Forcing a smile of her own, she walked toward him as though nothing had happened, as though she wasn’t still feeling Lee Know’s touch on her skin.

“Hey,” Seungmin greeted her, his voice warm. “You’re late. What took you so long?”

“Got caught up talking to a teacher,” she lied effortlessly, her voice light and casual. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, willing herself to act normal. “Sorry about that.”

Seungmin shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “No worries. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, nodding quickly. She fell into step beside him, the weight of what had just happened pressing heavily on her chest. But she pushed it down, burying it deep where it couldn’t surface. Not now. Not when Seungmin was looking at her like that, so oblivious to the storm raging inside her.

As they walked down the hallway together, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. Lee Know was still standing by the classroom door, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked on her.

Y/N quickly turned back, her heart pounding. She couldn’t think about him. She couldn’t think about any of it. Not now.

The next day it’s the weekend.

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as sunlight filtered through her curtains, painting faint patterns across her room. The weekend had arrived, yet it didn’t bring the peace she had hoped for. Instead, her mind was a battlefield, torn between two faces—two sets of eyes that seemed to haunt her every thought.

Lee Know. Seungmin.

She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tightly as if it could somehow absorb the chaos swirling in her chest. Her heart was a mess of contradictions. When she thought of Seungmin, she felt warmth, comfort, and familiarity—memories of laughter, long talks, and the easy rhythm they had built together over the years.

But then, there was Lee Know. The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. He was raw, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore. Being with him had felt like stepping into a storm—terrifying yet exhilarating.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “What am I doing?” she muttered to herself, her voice muffled.

She had always prided herself on being logical, practical. But now, logic had deserted her entirely. How had she gotten to this point? How had everything become so tangled?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Seungmin’s name on the screen.

Seungmin: Morning! Want to grab lunch later?

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she hesitated, her mind instantly flashing back to Lee Know’s face—the way he had looked at her after everything that had happened. She hadn’t heard from him since, and the silence was unnerving. Did he regret it? Did she?

Before she could answer Seungmin, another buzz made her jump. This time, it was a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: We need to talk.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she sat up, her heart racing. She stared at the two messages, the weight of them pressing down on her like a tidal wave.

Two boys. Two choices. And no idea which path would lead to happiness—or heartbreak.

Y/N set the phone down without responding to either of them. She needed time to think, to figure out what she truly wanted. But the more she thought about it, the more trapped she felt, like she was caught in a web she couldn’t escape.

She got out of bed and padded to the window, looking out at the quiet street below. Everything looked so normal, so simple, and yet her world was anything but.

“Why can’t this be easy?” she whispered to herself.

But deep down, she knew the answer. It wasn’t easy because both Seungmin and Lee Know meant something to her. And no matter what she chose, someone was going to get hurt.

As she stood there, staring out at the world that seemed so indifferent to her turmoil, one thought echoed in her mind

She couldn’t avoid them forever

For days, Y/N had done everything she could to avoid them both. Ignoring texts, dodging calls, and even changing her usual routes to class or around town. She thought that putting distance between them would make things clearer, give her the space to figure out what her heart truly wanted.

But all it had done was amplify the confusion.

The weight of it was unbearable—two people she cared about deeply, and no idea how to make a choice without breaking someone’s heart, maybe even her own.

It was late afternoon when she found herself walking aimlessly through the park near her house, the crisp air carrying the scent of autumn leaves. She hadn’t planned on being here, but her feet had brought her to the spot where she, Seungmin, and Lee Know had often hung out together.

Fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with her yet.

When she looked up, her breath hitched. Both of them were there. Seungmin stood by the swings, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. Lee Know was leaning against a tree nearby, arms crossed, his jaw tight.

They hadn’t come together; that much was obvious from the tension crackling in the air between them. But somehow, they were both here now, and their eyes were fixed on her.

Y/N froze, her heart pounding as panic surged through her. She hadn’t prepared for this for seeing them both at the same time, let alone having to face the storm she had been avoiding.

“Y/N,” Seungmin was the first to speak, his voice steady but edged with frustration. “We need to talk.”

Lee Know pushed off the tree, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, I think it’s about time.”

She swallowed hard, looking between them. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you can start by explaining why you’ve been avoiding us,” Seungmin said, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been acting like we don’t exist, and I think we both deserve better than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Y/N said quickly, her voice wavering. “I just needed time to think.”

“Think about what?” Lee Know pressed, stepping closer. “You’ve had days, Y/N. Days to figure out how you feel. And yet, here we are. Still waiting.”

Her stomach twisted as she looked at them two faces she cared about, both looking at her with such intensity that it was hard to breathe. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It is simple,” Seungmin said, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t keep us both in limbo like this. It’s not fair.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze unwavering. “He’s right. You have to decide, Y/N. Do you want him or me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She took a shaky step back, feeling like the ground beneath her was crumbling.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I care about both of you. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

“That’s not good enough,” Lee Know said, his voice low but firm. “We’ve both been patient, but we can’t keep doing this. You have to choose.”

Seungmin’s eyes softened for a moment, but his tone remained steady. “We’re not asking you to make a decision lightly. But you need to be honestwith us and with yourself.”

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she looked between them. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions guilt, fear, longing, and love. But as much as she wanted to keep them both close, she knew they were right. She couldn’t keep running from this.

Her voice trembled as she finally said, “I just need more time.”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Seungmin before looking back at her. “You’ve had time, Y/N. How much more do you need?”

Seungmin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “If you need more time, fine. But you can’t avoid us anymore. Figure it out, Y/N. And soon.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Lee Know stayed for a moment longer, his gaze piercing. “I hope you make the right choice,” he said softly before following Seungmin, leaving her standing there alone.

Y/N sank onto the nearest bench, her head in her hands. The clock was ticking, and no matter how much she wished for clarity, she knew that the answer wouldn’t come easily.

It had been days since the confrontation at the park, and neither Seungmin nor Lee Know had spoken to Y/N. She had sent a few hesitant texts to each of them, but their responses were short and distant, leaving her even more unsure of where she stood with them.

Unbeknownst to her, Lee Know and Seungmin were dealing with the situation in their own way. The tension between them had been simmering for weeks, and it was finally about to boil over.

They met at a quiet café near the edge of town, a place they knew would be empty enough for them to talk without interruptions. Lee Know was already seated at a corner table when Seungmin walked in, his usual calm demeanor replaced with something colder, more guarded.

Seungmin sat down across from him, folding his arms. “So, what’s this about?”

Lee Know leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk about Y/N.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened. “I think we’ve talked enough, don’t you?”

“Not like this,” Lee Know replied, his voice steady but firm. “Look, we’ve both made it pretty clear how we feel about her. And we both know she’s struggling to choose between us.”

Seungmin’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t respond.

Lee Know leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want to keep fighting with you, Seungmin. And I don’t want to hurt Y/N by forcing her to make a decision she’s not ready for.”

“So, what’s your solution?” Seungmin asked, his tone skeptical.

Lee Know hesitated for a moment before saying, “We share her.”

Seungmin blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lee Know said, his voice calm but determined. “We stop making this a competition. We let her decide how she wants to split her time between us. No more fighting, no more pressuring her.”

“That’s insane,” Seungmin said, shaking his head. “How is that supposed to work?”

“I don’t know,” Lee Know admitted. “But it’s better than what we’re doing now. And it’s better than making her choose and risking losing her altogether.”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, his arms still crossed as he considered the idea. It went against everything he had been feeling the jealousy, the possessiveness but a part of him couldn’t deny that Lee Know had a point.

“She might not even agree to it,” Seungmin said after a long pause.

“That’s up to her,” Lee Know replied. “But if we’re both serious about wanting her in our lives, then we need to at least try.”

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I still think this is crazy. But… I’ll agree, for her sake. If she’s okay with it.”

Lee Know nodded, a small sense of relief washing over him. “Good. Then we’ll talk to her together.”

Seungmin gave him a wary look. “Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean I’m okay with you being with her. I’m only doing this because I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Same here,” Lee Know said. “This isn’t about us. It’s about her.”

With that, an uneasy truce was formed. But as they left the café, both of them knew that the path ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of them.

It was late afternoon when Y/N received the text message that left her staring at her phone, her pulse racing.

Seungmin: Meet us at the park near the swings. We need to talk.

The “us” caught her off guard. She didn’t need to ask who he meant she knew both Seungmin and Lee Know would be there.

Her stomach churned as she walked to the park, a thousand questions and scenarios racing through her mind. What could they possibly want to say together? The tension between the three of them had reached a breaking point, and she had no idea how this would go.

When she arrived, they were already there. Seungmin was sitting on one of the swings, his expression neutral but his shoulders tense. Lee Know stood a few feet away, leaning against the frame of the swing set with his arms crossed.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said as she approached. His voice was calm, but there was a seriousness to it that made her chest tighten.

“Hey,” she said softly, looking between them. “What’s going on?”

Lee Know straightened, stepping closer. “We’ve been talking, and we think it’s time we figure out where we all stand.”

Her heart sank. “I… I’m still not ready to choose,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We know,” Seungmin said, his tone gentle. “That’s why we’ve come up with a different idea.”

Y/N frowned, her gaze darting between them. “What do you mean?”

Lee Know glanced at Seungmin before speaking. “We’ve decided to stop pressuring you to choose between us. Instead… we’re willing to share.”

She blinked, sure she had misheard. “What?”

“We’re giving you the choice to spend time with both of us,” Seungmin explained. “No more arguments, no more fighting. You don’t have to feel like you’re stuck in the middle.”

Y/N stared at them, her mind reeling. “You’re serious?”

Lee Know nodded. “We talked about it. And while it’s not ideal for either of us, it’s better than making you feel like you’re being torn apart.”

Her breath caught as she processed their words. She couldn’t deny that part of her felt relieved they were giving her space to figure things out without the added pressure of making an immediate decision. But another part of her felt uneasy.

“What if this doesn’t work?” she asked hesitantly.

Seungmin’s expression softened. “Then we deal with it when the time comes. But we think it’s worth trying, for your sake.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her emotions swirling. She had never imagined this kind of arrangement, but knowing they were willing to put aside their rivalry for her made her chest ache with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Lee Know said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. “Just think about it. We’ll give you the time and space you need.”

She nodded, still unsure how to feel. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Seungmin gave her a small smile. “That’s all we’re asking.”

Lee Know stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. “Just know that we both care about you, Y/N. And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, she felt the weight of their emotions pressing down on her.

As they walked her home that evening, the uneasy truce between them held. But Y/N couldn’t help wondering how long it would last and what it would mean for all of them moving forward.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache. Sleep had been elusive, her mind consumed by the conversation with Seungmin and Lee Know. Their proposal played over and over in her head like a looping film.

Share them?

The idea felt surreal, almost absurd. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She cared deeply for both of them—she couldn’t deny that. Seungmin had been her rock for years, a constant in her life who knew her inside and out. And then there was Lee Know, who had quietly slipped into her heart with his relentless devotion and tender moments.

She groaned, rolling over in bed and staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t how love was supposed to work. Love was supposed to be simple—two people, one connection. But somehow, her heart had made room for both of them, and now she was faced with a choice she wasn’t ready to make.

By noon, she was pacing her room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The idea of seeing them both, of not having to make an immediate decision, felt like a lifeline. But it also felt like walking a tightrope, one wrong step away from disaster.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, breaking her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up, her breath catching when she saw the message.

Seungmin: No pressure, but have you thought about what we talked about?

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

Lee Know: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re doing okay.

Y/N stared at the messages, her chest tightening. They were giving her space, just as they had promised, but she could feel their emotions lingering between the lines.

Taking a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

Y/N: Can we meet at the park? I’ve made my decision.

Her heart pounded as she hit send, the weight of her choice sinking in.

An hour later, she stood by the swings, waiting for them. The crisp autumn air nipped at her cheeks, but she barely felt it, her nerves keeping her warm.

Seungmin arrived first, his expression calm but his eyes searching hers. Lee Know appeared moments later, his usual confidence softened by what looked like worry.

“So?” Seungmin asked gently, breaking the silence. “What’s your decision?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her hands gripping the hem of her sweater. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you both said. And… I want to try this. Sharing time with both of you.”

Lee Know blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. Seungmin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“I know it’s not conventional,” Y/N continued quickly, her words tumbling out. “But I care about both of you, and I don’t want to hurt either of you. This… this feels like the only way to figure things out without losing someone I love.”

There was a beat of silence before Lee Know’s lips curved into a small smile. “So, you’re saying you want both of us?”

“Don’t make it weird,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing.

Seungmin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s definitely weird, but… if this is what you want, I’ll try.”

Lee Know nodded, his gaze softening. “Same. For you, I’ll try.”

Relief washed over her, and for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking between them. “Both of you.”

As the three of them walked away from the swings together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was theirs.

And for now, that was enough.

She kisses them both on the cheek and they both smile and blush.

Weeks passed, and to Y/N’s surprise, the unconventional arrangement began to work. She had worried endlessly about how Seungmin and Lee Know would manage to coexist, let alone get along, but the two of them had exceeded her expectations.

At first, there were small gestures of compromise. Seungmin stopped throwing passive aggressive remarks Lee Know’s way, and Lee Know refrained from his usual smug grins whenever Y/N chose to spend time with him. They had even started talking short conversations at first, usually about her, but over time, their interactions grew less tense and more natural.

The three of them developed an great relationship . Y/N divided her time evenly, and both boys respected the boundaries they’d set. What surprised her most was how much Seungmin and Lee Know seemed to enjoy each other’s company when they weren’t focused on her.

One sunny afternoon, the three of them were at the park, sprawled out on a large picnic blanket under the shade of a tree. Y/N had brought sandwiches and snacks, and the boys had brought their usual banter.

“Okay, but you have to admit, my dog is better trained than your cat.” Seungmin said, smirking at Lee Know as he reached for a bag of chips.

“Better trained?” Lee Know scoffed. “Your dog couldn’t even sit still when we went to the café last week. Dori would never embarrass me like that.”

Y/N laughed, watching them bicker. It was strange how normal this had become sitting between them, watching their playful arguments, feeling the peace that had settled over their dynamic.

“She’s probably sick of us talking about pets,” Seungmin said, turning to Y/N with a teasing smile. “Right?”

“Not at all,” she said, grinning. “I’m just waiting to see who wins.”

“It’s obviously me,” Lee Know said confidently, leaning back on his hands. “Dori is a model citizen.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Seungmin replied with a chuckle.

As the afternoon went on, Y/N found herself marveling at how far they had come. A month ago, the idea of Seungmin and Lee Know sharing anything, let alone a girlfriend, would have been laughable. But now, they were sitting side by side, teasing each other like old friends.

Later, as they walked back to her house, Seungmin and Lee Know fell into a discussion about soccer, their voices animated as they debated the skills of different players. Y/N trailed behind them, her heart swelling at the sight.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[rametarin]

It's because there's a political sleight of hand at play here.

So say you're some communistic piece of trash. What you really want is a conversation about how everything is classes and according to your big book of social "science," everything is absolutely about different classes either being the top or bottom and the bottom is an oppressed underdog victim, yay for victim, boo for oppressor. So according to their ideology, only socialism can fix this system that it insists everybody else uses as the basis for everything, and only socialism can fix it. You know, like how only St. Patrick and Catholicism could remove the snakes from Ireland.

Well, you need to tailor and sell your perspective to people that will listen. To do that, you capitalize on existing social problems, co-opt their identities and greviences and then turn your ideology into their narrative.

In the United States, there is and always has been that stain from race based slavery and eurocentrism/supremacism. While ethnosupremacism is not unknown on the world, it is/was the dominant force in the United States, where a great deal of infrastructure, money and human capital exists, and something socialists dearly want to co-opt in the name of socialism (and for some, then into communism.)

And on the other end, you have black people in America. They, also, had an ethnocentrist/supremacist population, but they were also a minority. Separatists that wanted to make their own separate nation and secede from the states without giving up the regional occupation, access to the US and etc. In short, people that have wanted more than just equality and personhood, but their own version of separate but equal- in their favor. They are no different from the Richard Spencers or David Dukes of the world in ideals, beliefs and function, and at no time is that more blatant and brazen than in a post-slavery, post-civil rights era society where men are equals and racism (positive or negative) is federally and state-wise illegal and discouraged, and punished with stigma.

This group still comes to the table with the belief that the trans-atlantic slave trade was the worst thing to happen, robbed black people of black independence from other races and groups, and believe they are owed that independence back from the rest of this society- which since it's not majority black or black owned, they will reject as white and white supremacist. It's not black, therefore, it's oppressive to the black.

And the black people that do not feel this way disagree with that but also, it's part of the black community and culture, and excising it is difficult to impossible. And in some areas of the US, the solidarity and comfort is either important, or necessary, if not just security and protection. Not unlike any ethnic enclave.

It's this population that the socialists like to roll up on and co-opt their struggles and the history. Socialists and communists in general hate ethnic separatism, however, they know how to degrade and co-opt movements and identities in generational waves. Capitalizing on the black community to try and get them to use Marxist lexicon and social arguments to describe and outline their greviances and mix telling real history with the generous interpretations of "Oppressed class vs. oppressor."

In the US, they use these story telling sleights of hands a lot. And we saw one up above. First going on about how "the slave trade" was white America's fault, and also greater Europe's fault. They emphasize that era, and leave you to erroneously conclude that there was no such thing as an African slave trade before Europe, in all their European supremacism, decided they wanted slaves and sub-human classes to toil for them as un-people. So they just randomls hit Africa with their technological supremacy and started netting black people, herding them into boats and then chaining them up, destroying their identities and culture and making them do labor as placid and ignorant victims.

They gladly allow you to remain just ignorant enough that you think there was no pre-existing slave trade and the respective brutality among native sub-Saharan Africans, they omit the Arabs and Berbers entirely, they talk about the numbers of black people sent to the Americas and leave out only about 10% of the total sent over landed in NORTH AMERICA, they try and make it seem like white people as Europeans just decided to get an identity or existence when they invented enslaving black people.

It's a very Afrocentrist view of history and the genesis of culture, and it's a very selectively cultivated one by educators that SHOULD know better, but they need black people and their stories and their support. And they get away with it, because of how many of them are in the American education system, free to omit things and emphasize things in curriculum and filibust conversations away from inconvenient, rounding truths that challenge Marxist interpretations of American history.

And then because it looks like you're just arguing against black personhood or trying to shrug off responsibility for terrible things done to black people, they put the spotlight on you to make you look like the worst kind of supremacist apologist, and have their little circle jerks and vagueposts talking about you to retain narrative.

The problem that happens, of course, is when you maintain such things as, "The Oppressor Class doesn't get to speak now! The Oppressed are talking!" then you get minority historians that point out these things and oh no something strange is happening to the narrative. People stop believing the very polished lies and start losing faith in what they're being taught by some very specific slanted bias from this very tainted perspective, and connecting the dots.

They NEED to connect slavery to Europeans and white people, they NEED to make it seem like it is comparable to and worse than the Holocaust, they NEED to make young black people upset and offended and feel like they're under attack from the outside by a hostile and oppressive majority state that outnumbers them and wants them miscegenated away. They NEED this narrative available for young tribalistic people, with the justifications of being minorities and adopting the language of Marxist dialectics, to validate their own insular views of themselves as a separate and distinct culture and community while also validating the Marxist interpretations to do it.

And they need to do that, because they marry white supremacism with capitalism, and claim the two are inextricably linked, and that to destroy white people is to destroy capitalism, and vice versa. Getting them invested in that as a matter of self-interest to how they see themselves, the world around them, the problems faced, their source and how to solve them.

THAT is why they are so keen on taking that window of history, shining a light on it and going, "White people are the devil, black people are the protagonist victims of this story, and the ending involves elimination of capitalism and inequality."

Also, slaves were usually bought secondhand from other Africans. Dahomey based their entire economy on “harvesting” slaves.

And we have the classic “bbbbut Atlantic slavery was WORSE than the other slavery!” This wasn’t the only genius, either.

“When the comic said ‘the slave trade’, it actually meant the Atlantic slave trade, specifically, not the many, many other slave trades. I honestly think White people created the Atlantic slave trade, and don’t realize Europeans just used an existing system.”

It’s kind of funny how these people only care about details and nuance* when it’s convenient.

* Which weren’t even in the comic, and still wouldn’t actually prove it right.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

So, apparently my crush on James reached the stage when just reading stories isn’t enough, I have to start requesting them)))

Black album James x ballerina reader (pretty please smut), where he’s just obsessed with their size difference and the fact that she’s very flexible? Like she pretty much drowns in his shirts, her hands are fragile compared to his, etc? one day, he comes to hotel after sound check and sees her doing her stretches in his shirt and her pointe shoes and that’s too much for him? He just has to make love to her? Maybe he is making references to Beaty and the beast ballet? Like James, the beast (metal band, rough guy, always grumpy) finally captured his beauty and will not let her go?

Thank you))

I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: Explicit Content,Adult Themes, Sexual Content light Possessiveness, Physical Intimacy

___________

In the Arms of the Beast

I didn’t hear the door open—I was too lost in my stretches, the slow pull of muscles and the grounding rhythm of my breath keeping me focused. The air in the hotel room was still, save for the faint rustle of fabric as I moved. James’s shirt, massive on me, slipped over one shoulder as I bent forward, palms flat against the floor.

The shirt smelled like him—leather, a touch of smoke, and something warm I could never quite name. It made me feel wrapped in him, even when he wasn’t here.

I was midway through a stretch, my legs extended in a perfect split, when a familiar growl broke the silence.

“You trying to kill me, darlin’?”

I jerked upright, my heart skipping a beat. Turning my head, I found him standing there, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His boots were still on, his hair slightly mussed from the day’s soundcheck, and his eyes… Oh, God, his eyes. They were locked on me like a predator that had found its prey.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He didn’t move, just stood there, drinking me in. His gaze traveled slowly, lingering on my legs, then the shirt that barely reached the tops of my thighs. His expression darkened, his lips curling into a crooked grin that sent a shiver down my spine. “Hell of a sight to walk into.”

Heat flooded my face, and I tried to play it off, standing and brushing down the oversized shirt. “I was just stretching.”

“Stretching,” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like gravel under heavy boots. He finally moved, stepping closer, and my pulse quickened. “You look like you’re dancing for me.”

I laughed nervously, though his intensity made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like that.”

But he was already closing the distance, his big hands finding my waist. His palms were rough against my skin, but his touch was gentle, reverent even. “You’re drowning in this shirt,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over the fabric. “Look at you. So damn tiny.”

My hands instinctively rested on his forearms, the contrast between us impossible to ignore. His arms were solid, his muscles thick and corded under my fingers. Next to his, my hands looked fragile, almost doll-like. He noticed it too, his gaze dropping to where I touched him, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice soft but loaded with something raw. “Like somethin’ out of a story. Beauty and the Beast.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, his hand slid up, tilting my chin so I was looking right into those piercing eyes. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, warm and commanding. The kiss stole my breath, every bit of him consuming me in the best way.

His hands moved, gripping my hips as he pulled me against him. “Mine,” he growled against my lips. The word sent a thrill down my spine. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

My heart pounded as I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed like I weighed nothing at all. His shirt rode up as he laid me down, exposing my bare legs and the ribbons of my pointe shoes.

He paused, hovering over me, his eyes dark with hunger. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“James…” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and desire.

His hands were everywhere—exploring, testing. He bent my leg, his touch slow and deliberate, as though marveling at my flexibility. His grin turned wicked as I arched beneath him, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.

“Shh, darlin’,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin, sending a jolt of heat through me, and then his tongue followed, soothing the spot. “Let me take care of you.”

James’s hands slid under the oversized shirt I wore, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His eyes darkened as he glanced up at me, a low growl escaping his throat.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good in this shirt. But it’s in the way,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I lifted my arms as he tugged the shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the side without a second thought. I was left exposed before him, my skin flushed and my breath shallow as he took in the sight of me, his gaze almost possessive.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands traced down my arms, over my shoulders, and to the curve of my waist. His touch was like fire, leaving me aching for more.

His lips trailed along my neck, his breath hot against my skin, before moving lower, over my collarbone. As his hands gently cupped my breasts, I gasped at the feeling of his thumbs brushing over my nipples, hardening at his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his mouth descending further, kissing along the top of my chest before moving to one nipple. He flicked his tongue over the hardened peak, sending a shiver through me.

I arched into him, my hands tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on me, his beard brushing against my skin in a way that made my entire body hum with pleasure. The sensation was both tender and intense, and I couldn't help but moan softly, feeling my body come alive under his touch.

But it was the way his hands moved, the way his fingers lightly traced the curve of my hips, that drove me wild. The gentleness with which he treated me, as though I were something precious, only added to the fire building inside.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a plea, though I didn’t know for what exactly, only that I needed him to make me feel.

With a soft chuckle, he pulled away for a moment, eyes dark with desire. "You’re so eager, darlin’. I’m not going anywhere. Just need to take my time with you."

His words, those quiet promises of patience, set my heart racing. Slowly, he lowered his body, kissing his way down my chest, over my stomach, and further still, until he hovered between my legs.

His eyes locked with mine, filled with a heat that made my breath catch. "Let me taste you, baby," he whispered, his voice hushed, reverent.

The words, the way he said them, stirred something deep within me. I parted my legs slightly, giving him the space he needed, feeling my pulse quicken with every inch closer he came.

 Suddenly, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the cool wall, enveloping me with his warmth. I  felt my heart beating faster, his strong frame looming over me in a possessive yet gentle way. The heat of his body radiated against mine, sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. "I couldn’t resist. You’re just too tempting right now."

“Maybe I wanted you to,” I whispered back, feeling bold, excitement dancing in my chest.

Before I could respond further, he leaned in, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was electrifying—hunger mixed with tenderness—as he poured his desires into the moment. I melted into him, my hands instinctively sliding into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he began to explore.

He broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jawline and down to my neck, where he lingered, his breath hot against my skin. I gasped, tilting my head back, giving him better access. “God, you taste so good,” he breathed against my collarbone.

“Then don’t stop,” I urged, shivering at his words.

As if sensing my need, he slowly sank to his knees in front of me, his eyes smoldering with intensity. I felt vulnerable yet safe under his gaze, my body aching for him.

“Please, James,” I begged softly, my voice barely above a whisper, my fingers curling tighter in his hair, a mixture of desperation and exhilaration coursing through me.

With a smirk, he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my core. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing. And then he buried his face between my thighs.

The sensation was overwhelming—his tongue skillfully teasing me as he explored every inch of my softness. I gasped, the pleasure sending jolts of electricity coursing through me. I couldn’t help but rock my hips closer, urging him on, craving every pleasurable flick.

“James,” I moaned, the sound of his name spilling from my lips like a sweet invitation. His smirk against me made my heart race even faster.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmured, pausing briefly. The wicked look in his eyes only fueled my desire.

“More than you can imagine,” I breathed, arching my back, desperate for more. “Don’t stop, please…”

As he continued, I felt myself teetering on the edge, every flick of his tongue driving me closer. “You’re so good at this,” I panted, lost in the moment. “You know how much I crave this.”

“Only the best for you,” he replied between teasing kisses, his voice low and sultry. He paused and gave me a look filled with heat. “You deserve to be spoiled, babe.”

With my hands gripping his hair tighter, I pulled him closer. “Then spoil me.”

He was relentless, his mouth devouring me in a way that sent shockwaves through my body. “You’re delicious,” he said, a hint of possessiveness lacing his words. “I could stay here all night.”

“God, James,” I gasped, feeling another wave of pleasure building inside me. “I’m—”

He cut me off with a hard, swift move, pushing me over the edge, and I cried out in ecstasy. Colors exploded behind my eyelids as waves of bliss washed over me.

When I finally came down from my high, he stood, brushing his lips against mine with a possessive smirk. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the raw desire in his eyes.

“Better than okay,” I whispered, feeling electric currents still dancing through my body. “Now I want you.”

His brow arched playfully, desires swirling like a tempest in his eyes. “You think you can handle me?” he teased, leaning closer.

I smirked back, feeling daring. “I’ve handled you before, haven’t I?”

“Touché,” he said with a chuckle, but his expression turned serious. “You ready for this?”

“Always,” I assured him, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

With a single motion, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around him as he pressed me against the wall. I could feel him, hard and ready, throbbing against my core, and the intensity made my breath quicken. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice thick with need.

“Only for you,” I breathed. “Always for you.”

He grinned wickedly, his breath ghosting across my ear. “Then let’s see how much you can take.” With that, he sank into me in one smooth motion, and I gasped as he filled me completely.

“God, yes,” I breathed, losing myself in the sensation. “You feel incredible.”

“Damn right I do,” he growled, driving deeper. “And you’re mine.”

The rhythm of our bodies colliding filled the air, the sound a symphony of passion and urgency. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demanded, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, surrendering completely to him, my heart racing as I matched his intensity.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he urged, his breath ragged.

“James, it feels—oh god, it feels amazing,” I moaned, my body arching against his. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That's right, baby. I want to hear you say it. I want you to remember how good I make you feel,” he said, his voice low and dark, sending shivers up my spine.

“James, you make me feel so good,” I whimpered, desperate for him. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”

With each thrust, he buried himself deeper, igniting flames of pleasure that threatened to consume me. The heat between us crackled, the world beyond us fading to nothing as we lost ourselves in each other.

“C’mon, babe. Let it go for me,” he urged, his voice a gravelly whisper as he picked up the pace, the need pushing both of us toward the brink.

“James, I’m so close,” I gasped, urgency flooding my voice.

“Then let go for me,” he commanded, thrusting harder, each movement focused solely on driving me to that sweet release. I could feel myself slipping, my breath hitching.

With one final deep thrust, I came undone, a wave of pleasure crashing over me, drawing out a desperate cry that echoed in the room. I felt him surge with me, his grip tightening as he lost himself inside me, his own moans harmonizing with mine.

In the aftermath, as our breaths mingled, he cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle amidst the overwhelming intensity. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his eyes softening as they bore into mine.

I smiled, relishing the aftermath of our passion. “So are you,” I replied, my fingers trailing along his jaw. “You always know how to make me feel amazing.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “And I’ll keep making you feel that way, because you deserve it.”

With a warmth filling my chest, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his once more, feeling grateful for this moment and the man who held me so tenderly yet fiercely. In James’ arms, I knew I had found something extraordinary.