#it was wonderful seeing him be focused on
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okwonyo · 1 day ago
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CAN YOU SEE ME? IM WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME ..
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──── 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇.
𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐒 ㅤㅤ𓈒 bsf!enhypen x fem!rea 7OO non-idol au fluff potential future relationship yearning ૮(^﹏^ ! skinship jealousy 【 MUSÉE 】
じや wrote this in a rush ! enjoy 🎀
rbs ✶ comments please + daily
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 。 。 watches you from a distance. with his eyes wide as a deer caught in the headlights, he doesn’t say anything or does anything about it— he just watches. he can’t help but observe your movements, the way you laugh or how you tuck your hair behind your ear while you talk to the other man. he studies you, sadness in his eyes, trying to find out if you are interested in someone other than him or not. “what?” you ask him when you see the grimace on his face. instead of answering, he questions you too, “do you like him?” relief washes over him in a wave when you shake your head, “i thought we were just talking but he wanted more,” then you add, “i’d rather spend time with you”.
⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡
𝐉𝐀𝐘 。 。 is always near you. in any circumstances, in any sort of place. if you are near, he is too— almost as if he was your bodyguard or, you as you prefer to say, guardian angel. any person that approaches you, approaches him too and needs to get approved by him to even talk to you. therefore, there is no need to explain that when a guy tries to talk to you, they get hit by a presence impossible to ignore right behind you. the menacing glares can make anyone pale and stumble over their words in front of you. and the funniest part, is that you are well aware of that but decide to act clueless— always shooting a fake confused look at him before smiling sweetly when yet another man runs away from you.
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 。 。 as your known best friend, many people come to him when they wonder if you are single and try to find a way to ask you out. unfortunately for them, he is not only your best friend but also desperately and irrevocably in love with you. so, in lieu of giving proper answers and advice, he assures them that you are already taken, by no one else but him. and to be completely honest, it works quite well. he even likes to, just for the sake of the silly little lie— of course, be really clingy in front of others. you don’t mind, he has always been like that, and it makes him happy to touch you for a second and be your lover. even if it’s through everyone’s eyes but yours.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 。 。 he has a special radar for whoever has romantic interests towards you. i mean, he would know how having a crush ok you feels like. since he has been in love with you since primary school. so, where are both around someone who seems to like a you a little bit too much, he starts his extra-clingy and affectionate best friend act. draping his arm on your shoulders, talking to you nonstop and asking for your attention as soon as your eyes go on anywhere else but him. “are you drunk?” you laugh all of the time, not even annoyed in the slightest. he is drunk, drunk in love.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 。 。 he is unable to control his face when a guy comes to talk to you. he stares at him with a disgusted and utterly offended expression on the surface of his face. as soon as romance is being involved, he tugs you close without thinking— the petname ‘sweetheart’ even slip out. you don’t seem to mind, you only excuse yourself to your other interlocutor before focusing fully on your best friend. when you don’t look, he shoots to the flabbergasted man a very proud grin. he loves to be your favorite.
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 。 。 he is flabbergasted, took over by immense disbelief and utter shock. he just watched the cashier shamelessly flirt with you— right in front of hom, without decorum. yes, he is not your boyfriend, but come on! he believes that the cashier should have been a little bit ashamed at least. “please,” he pleads as soon as you get out of the shop. “don’t tell me you are going to go out with that guy.” you immediately smile, a teasing question already tingling your tongue, “why? are you jealous?” his heart drops, his face reddens and he starts walking as you chuckle.
𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 。 。 uses all his strength to try to not be jealous— alas, he fails as soon as he even thinks about you and that ‘nobody’ together. he looks at you with sad eyes and a frown, as if he was a kicked puppy, whereupon you tell him you got asked on a date by the stranger. “wouldn’t you rather spend time with me?” he asks you, and you giggle. “what? this guy will be boring in two weeks but, i will be fun forever.” this idiot isn’t even able to contain his happiness when you tell him that he is right, that you will stay with him tonight. he is so happy that he hugs you, tight.
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𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open & network : @sgz-net
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wonsiwon · 3 days ago
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party’s over, pack your stuff | l.hs
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sinopsis | when heeseung returns from a party, he’s met with the shocking sight of his furious girlfriend tossing his belongings out the window and locking him out of the house. caught in the middle of a heated argument, the two find themselves pushing each other’s buttons, testing patience and limits as frustration and love clash in a chaotic standoff.
genre | stablished relationships?, fluff, angst, comedy
paring | bf! heeseung x fem!reader
you and heeseung had been together for two years, and while there were plenty of good moments, the bad ones seemed to creep in more often lately. the fights were becoming a regular thing, especially on the afternoons after he came back from parties. he’d spend hours at a friend’s place, leaving you at home, overthinking and imagining the worst. he’d stopped inviting you to these big gatherings, and it was hard not to wonder if he was cheating. the thought of him with someone else, while you were lying awake trying to convince yourself it wasn’t true, was eating you alive.
then today, everything you feared felt real. you got pictures of him at a party, grinning at some blonde girl—the same grin that used to be just for you.
heeseung didn’t see himself as a cheater. in his mind, he was just being “nice,” brushing off the attention he got because of his looks. but that smile, the one he flashed at other girls, made you want to punch him in the face.
it was around 3:20 in the afternoon when heeseung pulled into the driveway, still half-drunk and barely focused on the road. all he could think about was crashing into bed—probably not with you since he already expected a fight. not that it mattered to him; you’d forgive him eventually. or so he thought.
he didn’t even get the chance to park properly when he spotted you through the window. without thinking, he jumped out of the car, his eyes scanning the scene. clothes were scattered all over the grass, and then, just as he stepped closer, a pair of jeans flew out the window, landing in a messy heap.
“what are you doing?” heeseung asked, his eyes flicking between the clothes scattered on the ground and your furious figure at the window. “are those my clothes?”
you didn’t bother answering. instead, you grabbed a shoe and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the head.
“baby, what the hell?” heeseung muttered, trying to dodge the rain of items falling from the window. he knelt down, quickly stuffing clothes into his arms, but it felt like no matter how much he picked up, more kept falling.
“grab your stuff and get out of here.” you said, and tossed a pair of jeans at him.
heeseung caught them mid-air and looked down. “are those my favorites?” he asked, still not fully understanding what was happening.
he then glanced around, noticing people from the neighborhood walking by and stopping to watch. he could feel the eyes on him, making the situation even more awkward.
heeseung was completely thrown off guard. he didn’t understand what was happening. it didn’t make sense to him.
“can you just—” he started, but the words got stuck. “what’s going on?” he looked up at you again, trying to find some clue in your expression, but you just stood there, arms crossed, staring at him coldly.
heeseung sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood there, surrounded by his stuff scattered all over the grass. his headache was getting worse, and your angry expression through the window wasn’t making it any better.
“y/n, can we just talk like adults?” he pleaded, trying to calm the situation down.
“adults?” you snapped, leaning out the window with a glare. “were you acting like an adult when you were grinning at that blonde all night?”
heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his mind went back to the party last night, and after a few seconds, his eyes widened as it hit him what this was all about. “you’ve got it all wrong—”
“wrong?!” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “what part of you smirking at her, leaning in all close, and god knows what else am i getting wrong?!”
“she was just talking to me! i wasn’t doing anything!” heeseung argued, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “you always overthink this stuff. it’s exhausting!”
“oh, i’m exhausting?!” you yelled, throwing a sweatshirt at him with force. “you know what’s exhausting, heeseung? sitting here, while the guy i’ve been with for two years goes around dipping his dick in any female that flashes him a smile!”
heeseung’s eyes widened, and he snapped back, his voice rising. “are you serious right now? i wasn’t fucking anyone, y/n! she was just talking to me! you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”
“talking?” you laughed bitterly, leaning further out the window. “heeseung, do you even hear yourself? do you think i’m stupid? you didn’t even bother inviting me to the party!”
heeseung threw his hands up in frustration. “y/n, it’s not what you think! i didn’t invite you because i knew you hate those parties!”
you clenched your fists at your sides, voice shaking with anger. “was it good, huh? was it good fucking that bitch while you had your actual girlfriend at home?”
heeseung’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard. “what the hell are you talking about?” he shot back, gripping the sneakers you threw at him. “i didn’t sleep with anyone!”
“stop lying!” you spat, leaning even further out the window, your anger boiling over.
“y/n..” he started, his voice getting more desperate. “you’re seriously out of your mind right now. i wasn’t doing anything! i didn’t touch her, i didn’t—”
“save it!” you interrupted, gripping the window frame to steady yourself.
heeseung dropped the pile of clothes back onto the grass and started walking toward the door, his face set with determination.
“don’t bother.” you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice while holding up a shiny new set of keys. “i changed the handle.”
heeseung stopped in his tracks, looking at you, completely shocked. “why the fuck would you do that?” his eyes narrowing as he looked at the keys in your hand. his mind was still reeling from the argument, but now he was thrown off even more by what you just said.
you just smirked as you held up the keys. “you really thought you could just walk in here and keep doing whatever you want?”
heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he dragged his tongue across his cheek, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. both hands rested on his hips as he glared at you. “so, this is how it’s gonna be now? you’re locking me out like some stranger?” he was furious—this whole situation felt ridiculous to him. “you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?”
you rolled your eyes, leaning against the frame. “what are you gonna do, heeseung? break a window? crawl through the vents?”
he chuckled darkly. “did you change the back door too?”
your face went pale. you hadn’t. and even though you could’ve lied, you knew he wouldn’t buy it—your hesitation was clear. you watched his eyes flick to the side of the house, and then it clicked. before you could react, heeseung was already walking toward the edge of the house, that knowing smirk spreading across his face.
“gotcha.”
panic set in, and you pushed off the window frame, clutching the keys tightly in your hand. “this motherfucker..” you muttered under your breath.
heeseung took off running toward the backyard, vaulting over the fence with ease. panicking, you bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping as you tried to beat him to the door.
you hated yourself for how dumb you’d been, but even more, you hated the fact that heeseung was actually pretty smart. too smart. and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. as much as you wanted to blame him for being insufferable, you couldn’t deny it was your own slip-up that handed him the upper hand. again.
you cursed under your breath, skidding to a halt in front of the door just in time to see heeseung standing in the frame, his tall figure all over you. his smirk was insufferable as he leaned against the door, looking down at you with a cocky expression.
you gasped, turning on your heels and sprinting back toward the stairs. “i hate you!” you shouted as heeseung darted after you, his long strides closing the distance quickly.
“i know you don’t, princess!” he called out, laughing as he chased you up the stairs.
your heart raced as you reached the top, your mind scrambling for a plan. heeseung wasn’t about to let this go, and you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you slammed the door of the bedroom, hoping to lock it before heeseung reached you. but just as it was about to close, his foot wedged itself in the gap.
“leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice desperate as you pushed against the door with all your strength.
“not a chance.” heeseung growled, using his weight to push it open.
the door flew back, forcing you to stumble a few steps away. before you could react, heeseung grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.
“let me go!” you shouted, twisting and squirming in his hold, trying to free yourself.
“stop it, y/n!” he barked, his voice low and steady, though his breathing was heavy from the chase. “you’re acting like a kid.” heeseung’s grip tightened for a second, but he didn’t pull you back. his gaze softened just a little, and his voice dropped. “baby, stop. i’m just trying to talk.”
but you weren’t ready to listen. you were too angry. “i don’t care what you’re trying to do.” you snapped, pushing against his chest. “you don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong when you’re out there doing god knows what with other girls.”
heeseung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension in his body easing slightly. “i didn’t do anything, baby. it was just a stupid conversation—nothing more.”
“bullshit!” you yelled, shoving against him harder, but all it did was make him chuckle. “why are you laughing? you think this is funny?”
“i’m not..” he said, his smile only growing wider. “it’s just funny how you get like this, all grumpy.” he reached out and pinched your nose, a playful gesture that only made you more frustrated.
you swatted his hand away, glaring at him. “this isn’t funny, heeseung!” you snapped, your voice sharp with annoyance.
he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “okay, okay. i get it. but you’re overreacting, baby.” his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his eyes. “i’m not doing anything wrong.”
“you always say that,” you shot back, your anger flaring again. “how am i supposed to believe you?”
“listen, i don’t know who sent you that picture, but i swear, princess, i wasn’t flirting with her.” he stepped closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can ask my friends.”
you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t trust your friends.”
he raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but firm. “you trust jungwon though. he was there.”
the mention of jungwon made you pause for a moment. jungwon was the calm one in the group, always reliable, and someone you could count on when it came to keeping things straight. but the one you should really keep an eye on was no one but jake. he was the king of stirring up trouble, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d egged heeseung on to do something stupid.
your silence gave heeseung an opening. he softened his voice, stepping closer, but still keeping a little distance to test the waters. “look, i get it. i screwed up, and yeah, maybe i should’ve kept my distance from her. but you know me, baby. you know me. i don’t care about anyone else.”
you rolled your eyes, though your resolve was faltering slightly. “you’re always sweet-talking your way out of this stuff, heeseung. it doesn’t change the fact that you were grinning at her like she was the most interesting person in the world.”
“sweet-talking?” he repeated, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face. “baby, i don’t need to sweet-talk. i’m just telling you the truth.”
heeseung took another step forward, and this time you didn’t move back. he reached for your hands, holding them gently in his. his thumbs brushed against your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.
“i don’t want to fight with you anymore..” he said softly, his voice steady and earnest. “you’re the one i come home to. you’re the one i care about. that’s not going to change because of some random girl at a party.”
you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll forgive you… only if you stop going to these stupid parties. and definitely not hang out when jake’s around.”
heeseung nodded quickly, a look of relief washing over his face. “i promise, no more parties like that. and no more hanging around jake if it’s going to make you this upset.”
you felt his hands gently grip your waist, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you looked him in the eyes, studying his expression. “i mean it, heeseung. i don’t care how much fun you think you’re having. if i ever catch you doing something like that again—”
“you won’t.” he cut in and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “no more parties, no more drama, just us.”
you let out a small sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “good. that’s what i need to hear.”
you let him pull you into a hug, though you kept your arms at your sides, still not fully giving in. he pressed his chin against the top of your head, his voice soft as he muttered, “thank you, baby. i’m glad we’re on the same page now.”
you stayed there for a moment, both of you just breathing, when suddenly he froze, his expression shifting. “wait—” he said, looking toward the window. “the clothes.”
you followed his gaze, realizing he was just now remembering the mess outside. before you could say anything, he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “god, the neighbors must think we’re insane.”
you crossed your arms, smirking. “well, we kinda are.”
heeseung turned back to you with a playful pout. “can’t believe i almost lost my future wife and my home in one day.”
your cheeks burned at his words, but you refused to let him off that easy. “future wife?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “who said i’d marry you after this?”
he grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you again. “you’ll forgive me.” he said confidently. “you love me too much.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “you better start picking up those clothes before i change my mind.”
heeseung groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “can’t we just leave them there? maybe the wind will blow them away or something.”
you pushed him off with a light shove, crossing your arms. “nice try. i’m not going to be the one explaining to the neighbour why your underwear is hanging from her tree.”
heeseung winced at the thought, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine, fine. but you’re helping me. you threw them out, after all.”
you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “oh no, this is all on you, mister. think of it as your punishment.”
he sighed, giving you a mock glare before turning toward the stairs. “you’re cruel, y/n. absolutely ruthless.”
“and don’t forget it.” you shot back, following him downstairs to the front yard.
the scene outside was somehow even more chaotic than you remembered. a couple of kids from down the street were pointing and giggling as they passed by, and neighbour from next door was giving heeseung a very disapproving look from his porch.
“great.” heeseung muttered under his breath, bending down to pick up a pair of socks. “i’m the neighborhood clown now.”
you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him gather his clothes, his tall frame awkwardly hunched as he tried to scoop up as much as he could at once. “well, you kind of earned it.” you teased, leaning against the fence.
heeseung straightened up, his arms full of crumpled t-shirts and jeans. “yeah, yeah. laugh it up. just wait until i get back inside.”
you tilted your head, smirking. “oh? and what are you going to do? throw all your clothes back out?”
he flashed you a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip despite everything. “nah. i’ll just make you fold all of them.”
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your face. “dream on, heeseung.”
he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to grab the last of his things. as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this reminded you why you’d stuck around for two years. heeseung was frustrating, infuriating even, but he was also the guy who could make you laugh when you least expected it.
as he stood up, arms overflowing with clothes, he looked over at you with a sheepish smile. “uh, a little help?”
you sighed, walking over to take some of the load off his hands. “you’re lucky i don’t actually hate you.”
heeseung’s grin widened as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re still here.”
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neovillains · 2 days ago
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PINK BOWS | NANAMI KENTO
syn. your boyfriend is scared of intimacy, but for all the reasons you never expected.
── virgin!nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, panty kink, masturbation, sexual fantasies, accidental vouyerism, etc | 3.1k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact )
note. a fic i found in drafts that i never got around to posting.
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Nanami had been raised to value his future career-wise over all else. Taking his parents’ teachings to heart, he solely focused on his career, making sure that he followed the path to becoming someone who was financially stable and didn’t need to stress over bills and obligations. However, that seemed to be the only merit to it— not having to worry and being able to live a lavish life. They didn’t mention the exhaustion he would experience, putting excruciating hours in working behind a desk. They didn’t tell him how robotic it would feel to wake up for most days to get ready, go to work, and come back home at late hours to only eat takeout and fall straight to sleep. 
Barely a social life because all of his friends and the people close to him are always busy and when they do have the time, he unfortunately doesn’t. It was such a period of lonesomeness for Nanami, surviving but never really living. It wasn’t until a rare occasion of getting off of work early that he found himself in a bar, hitched up at a stool and slouching over the counter with a glass of whiskey nestled in his hand. He let out a deep sigh as he felt like this is the most rest he’s gotten ever since becoming a salaryman. In his blue button and animal print tie, he loosens the decorative piece and unbuttons the first few of his shirt as he slouches.
The sound of jazz playing through the speakers and the voices of other customers piling in on the Friday evening. He’s unaware of the pair of eyes that have settled on him this evening, the fine dime that watches two seats to his right. In a cute black backless dress that hugs every curve, you admire the blonde beauty that seems so exhausted. The way he composes himself, you can tell that he’s a reserved man and if anything, you’d have to be the one making a move on him. In your hand, a Sex on the Beach, the fruity drink gets disposed of in a few chugs before you’re standing on your heels and pulling out the stool right next to him. The scraping of the chair legs finally calls for his attention as his chestnut-colored eyes come into view. 
He wonders how you were able to do it so quickly. The many times he’s been approached by women in the office, he was always quick to turn them down. However, with you, he didn’t feel that inclination to deny you. You spoke as if it was your right to have him, the way your eyes twinkled as you smiled up at him and started an easy conversation beginning with a simple “hey!” You had so much charm to you that it loosened him up, and while you carried on most of the conversation, he found himself deeply captivated by you as you were him. 
At the end of the night, both of you exchanged numbers. You gnawed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering to his with a desire that he wasn’t used to seeing. You started to inch closer in hopes of something more, but you felt his body tense up when your lips ghosted him as you stood on your tippy-toes as he backed away. He cleared his throat, quickly dismissing the failed kiss and bidding you a farewell. “Have, uh— have a lovely night,” he stammered out before his leather shoes clicked on the hard concrete and he turned his back on you. 
Leaving you alone in the chilling night, you were grateful for the lack of people to witness your embarrassment before your heels clicked against the sidewalk as you walked in the other direction. He remembered feeling such guilt for leaving you hanging like that, and he felt anger within himself for doing the same to him. He’d love to have a taste of those plump and glossy lips of yours. Do they taste as sweet as you look? However, that curiosity died as his anxiety overcrowded his brain and spoke against his better judgment, his mind chastising him for a week as he stared at your phone number, neither one of you having the strength to message first. 
It’s pathetic how he deprives himself of something— someone— he wants. Someone he needs. Because only the heavens know how much Nanami needs this. Thankfully the gods listen to his pleas and his incessant whining, granting him the courage to finally message you first and ask you out on a date. It took you a couple of hours to respond back, debating with yourself if you should really go out with a man who backed away from a kiss. However, you figured that you were only being too fast and he wanted to take things slow. 
  He took you out to a food mall, a large building backed with restaurants, bakeries and cafes all in one setting. It proved that he was truly paying attention to you when you were droning on and on back in that bar. Dressed in a pink sundress that flowed down your body, each strut you took had Nanami mesmerized when you got excited and ran off to look at something. Your eyes would sparkle as a worker would come and hand you a little skewer to try. And for once Nanami was happy with his job, grateful to be able to spend ample of money on a pretty thing such as yourself. He didn’t care how much he spent on you, as long as he got to see the way your eyes lit up as you beckoned him to follow right behind you. 
Winning over each other’s hearts, you placed the titles of boyfriend and girlfriend on each other. Nanami was content with it, happy to spend time with you— to hug and hold you close whenever you came to visit him and vice versa. However, while he was complacent in the place where your relationship stood, you weren’t. When you finally managed to kiss him, they were always a peck and never lasted for too long, and even when he held you, that felt awkward. 
You could never rest on his lap, your head always against his chest. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he’d always pull away. Dammit, when you tried to take it even further, thinking that you were ready to sleep with him, he’d always break that sexual tension that lingered in the air, cutting his visit short. 
He treated you so well in almost every aspect except for the ropes of intimacy. Were you doing something wrong?
Nanami felt guilty for how he’d pull away, and deny you of what you wanted. He really did, but you really didn’t understand what you do to him. He felt weak and pathetic about how just being in such close proximity to his girlfriend made him feel. How his cock would create a tent in his pants and he struggled to conceal it. How had you not noticed? His body would shudder every time you tried climbing on his lap, his entire body stiffening as you’d do so. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he felt like he was a high school boy again, near to releasing in his pants. Things would escalate and he was afraid of the possible embarrassment he would feel for his inexperience. 
He should know better. He should know that you, his sweet little girlfriend, would always be so understanding and love him regardless. Something that he shouldn’t be so ashamed of. What was there to be? For you to know that your boyfriend loves you so much that he finds your presence to be an excruciating turn on? That a simple peck on his lips drives him crazy? That a single hug made him want to devote the rest of his life to you? He knows this conversation will happen sooner or later. But, for right now, he’d prefer it later. 
Standing outside your apartment door, he unlocks the door with ease, pushing it gently open. Your car’s not outside, but you should be home soon according to your work schedule. He had forgotten some work from his last visit, wanting your company while he caught up on the tedious workload, but ultimately forgetting it by the time that he left. Entering your small abode, the chill of inside greatly contrasts the heat of outside as he shuts the door behind him. He kicks off his shoes, a habit of his as he makes a beeline straight to your bedroom. Your bedroom door is wide open and he can spot just what he needs right on the desk that he claims as his own as you barely use it. 
He reaches for the stack of paper when he takes notice of a flimsy piece of fabric lying on the ground. Letting go of the documents, the sound of his footsteps echo through the room. Bending on his knees, he picks up a pair laced white panties with a pink bow right at the center. It has pink trimmings and in Nanami’s hand, they feel silky to the touch. He curses to himself for this type of intrusion. You’ve come to trust him so much to give him a spare key to your apartment, but here he is violating it to hold your dirty pair of panties and having the nerve to get hard while he’s at it. 
“Fuck,” he curses, looking at the crotch of your undergarment to see a dirty patch of your discharge. The way he can feel his cock strain in his khaki work pants makes him feel embarrassed and dirty, his face heating up in a shade of red. However, he never throws down the flimsy garment. He doesn’t stop himself from bringing it up to his nose, taking a heavy waft to know what you smell like. The musky scent of sweat and the pungent scent of your discharge overflowing his senses is overwhelming, feeling how his cock twitches inside his pants. He lets out a stuttered breath, his free hand going to cup his erection in some sort of attempt to let go of some of the tension. 
Veins protruding his hands as he palms himself, hands running along his girth. He can feel precum leaking from his tip. He hisses with how the urethra runs against the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs, wanting relief from its confined torture. He used to think of himself as a better man than this, a man who wouldn’t succumb to lust. However, the longer he withholds himself from you, the stronger the urge and his resolve is breaking— or, it has already broken. 
He finds himself sitting on the very edge of your bed, toes curling as he brings himself to undo his belt, letting the buckle fall as he loosens it. He unzips his pants, providing further relief to himself before he’s shimmying out of his pants and underwear. His work shirt rides up, revealing the blonde happy trail that leads to his cock. A dark shaft in comparison to his bright pink head, it’s swollen with lust as he continues to drip of precum. 
Nanami glances at the clock sitting on the ivory-colored nightstand. You’ll be back in less than an hour, which should be ample of time to get himself off before disappearing. He just has to make sure that he cleans up after himself well. His heart races at the excitement, which only makes him more turned on for this endeavor. Cupping his balls, he fondles them before letting your panties drop, them landing on his lap before he drapes it around his length. It looks pretty like this, he can’t help but think. He fixes the next hole down his cock before gripping the base of his length. Spit pools in his mouth before it lands on his pelvis, making him swipe the glob down. He smears it down his length, painting himself with the innocent body fluid. 
The palms of his hand are cold, making him tense up as he hikes up one leg for the pad of his foot to rest on the edge of your bed frame. The metal digs into the heel of his foot as he sets a moderate pace, toes curling as he can only think about you. He imagines your plump lips wrapped around his length, taking him in so slowly as those beady eyes of yours would look at him so innocently. Batting your eyelashes at him while you have your mouth open, on your knees so pliantly as he guides his cock to your lips. Precum smeared over your lips just how you like to decorate your lips with gloss. They’d shine so beautifully and smell just like him, too. You’d work your mouth like a pro, taking him inch by inch and making his mouth fall open as he’d throw his head back. 
This is all he thinks about when he’s pumping his cock, his grip tightening as he can only imagine. It’s shameful with how quick that coil in his stomach approaches, a choked up gasp leaving his lips as his cock twitch. His hold tightens around the base as he uses the next hand to cup at his balls with your panties wrapped around it. He can imagine you wearing these, how they’d hug you so cutely.
You’d be stripping out of your clothes slowly, in an effort to tease. They’d work, too. Shredding each layer of clothing until you’re in nothing but those same pair of panties before sauntering over to him seductively. And when you’re in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you push him to lay down. You’d crawl over his body, your bare breasts hanging freely as you rest your ass down on his pelvis. You’d grind your hips so sweetly wearing those white laced panties, pink trimmings and a pink bow right in the middle, telling him to claim his prize. 
You’d grind your hips amazingly, putting him in a trance as you have his cock aching for more than the rock of your hips. His fingers digging into your flesh before trying to bring you even closer to him. You’d manage to make him whimper out the most pathetically filthy whines and whimpers known to man. He knows it. He just knows it. 
He knows it by the drawn out moan he makes when he releases on the white tiles, spurting out a load that should be stuffed inside of you. He throws his head back, nearly slipping off the bed before he catches himself. It feels euphoric to let himself go, to give into his cravings for you. If only you were here though, he sighs. It feels pointless to voice that if the person he craves the most isn’t here. 
But, speaking of the devil, you’re parking next to his silver Lexus, your 2010 Honda looking shabby in comparison to the up-to-date vehicle that belonged to your boyfriend. You hum in content, your eyes lighting up in anticipation to see your boyfriend. Parking the car, you reach for your handbag as you climb out the vehicle. With the click of a button, your car is locked as you climb the two-story flight to your apartment. You’re out of breath by the time you’re in front of the door and fishing for the right key off of your keychain. 
He promised himself that it would be quick, but Nanami’s still fucking his fist. His carnal desire for you pouring throughout in this moment, not hearing the shuffle of the locks from your front door. So absorbed in this lustful moment as he squeezes the tip, his fingers coated in his seed as he quickens the pace. 
You can see his shoes resting in the right corner while you hang your bag on the rack and shimmy out of your cardigan, kicking off your flats gently. While he can’t hear you, you hear him— the deep sounds of his voice grunting and panting from afar. With furrowed eyebrows, confusion fills you before realization as you near your bedroom. The wet sounds of plat, plat, plat echoing as you take careful steps. Your heart races as your eyes widen when you take a peek inside of your bedroom to see the compromising state of your boyfriend. 
Sitting on your bed with his pants resting a bit above his knees. His cock, spent as he strokes it. You can see the jagged line of his cum squirted out on the floor, strays catching his pants and the rest dripping from his fist. Arousal pools immediately as you silently watch, clenching your thighs together as you shuffle on your footing. You’ve been unknowingly holding your breath, your face heating up as you watch this moment. Your mouth dries up, gulping as your eyes flicker to his length as you watch his languid movement. His hip bucking in further need. It’s then do you see the strikingly bright shade of white and hints of pink, falling under realization that he’s jerking off with your panties wrapped around him. Shit, you curse as you start to heave. You cup your heat in need, thighs trapping your hand as you grind into your digits. 
“Shit,” Nanami curses, calling out your name as he can feel his balls tighten and his legs stiffen. “Fuck, I need you.”
With another orgasm, it’s not as copious as the previous, the trail following a shorter path as he paints his hand in his seed. Hips stuttering, he brings himself to lean back, using his cleaner hand to hold up his weight to bring himself back to reality. A fog full of stars and ecstasy clouding his vision before it’s all cleared up. He thinks he’s alone. He thinks the coast is all clear until he’s sitting up and right at the door way you’re standing there. He gasps, calling out your name in shock.
You feel like a deer caught in headlights, but this is your apartment after all. Eyes dilated as your hand is still stuffed in between your legs, you let out a heavy breath. It’s nice to know that all your worries about your relationship seem to get relieved at this moment as you quickly become elated. 
You start to saunter towards him, just as he envisioned. Only, you’re fully clothed when you push him down on the bed. His eyes widen as he calls out, “Wait. I—”
You cut him off, taking his cum-coated hand and bringing it to your lips. Tongue sticking out, you clean him all up and all his worries dissipate as he curses once more, fuck. “Whatever it is, promise that we work through it together, ya?”
Nanami nods, speechless and he puts all of his trust in you and his cock hardens again. He was a fool to be so worried. Finally, he’s able to mutter out a single word. “Yeah, okay.”
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mssorceressupreme · 3 days ago
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Let Me Help | F.W
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———
Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
Summary: After losing a quidditch match, Fred is frustrated and you help him by giving him a post-match massage, which leads into something more, or well something sweet.
Warnings: massaging, making out, hickeys, moaning ig, praising (ish), slightly steamy but mostly fluffy, fluffy!fred, nap-time together, cuddling, littlespoon!reader, bigspoon!fred, pls i want to have nap-time in fred's arms
———
The roar of the crowd had dwindled into murmurs as you, Hermione, and Luna sat on the bleachers, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team gather on the pitch below. The match against Hufflepuff had ended moments ago, and to everyone’s surprise, Gryffindor had lost after a season of winning.
It wasn’t just a loss—it was a hard-fought game, filled with moments of near victory that had slipped through their fingers.
Fred and George, always the heart of the team, looked particularly worn down. Fred’s usual buoyant demeanour was dimmed, his lips were pressed in a firm line, nodding as Oliver clearly scolded him about something. He wasn’t one to take criticism lightly, especially not when he was already down.
“I think Wood's giving Fred a hard time,” Hermione murmured, squinting at the scene below.
“Fred looks sad,” Luna observed, tilting her head dreamily. “Maybe he’s just feeling the weight of the nargles today.”
You tried waving to Fred, catching his eye. "It's okay Freddie..." you mouthed, attempting to comfort him slightly from the bleachers.
He looked up and, instead of the cheeky grin and exaggerated gestures you were used to, he blew you a small, almost apologetic kiss.
It wasn’t the playful, confident one that usually made you laugh; it was soft, almost sad, and it made your heart ache.
“He’ll be okay,” Hermione reassured you as you all made your way down from the stands.
The walk back to Hogwarts was subdued. The team split off to the showers while you, Hermione, and Luna headed toward the common room. Your mind was on Fred the whole time, wondering how you could cheer him up.
When the players eventually returned, freshly showered but still visibly tired, you led the cheers in the common room to boost their spirits. George gave a half-hearted grin, Angelina and Katie exchanged appreciative smiles, but Fred hung back, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
Determined to help him, you waited for the crowd to thin out before slipping away and making your way to the boys’ dormitory. Knocking softly, you peeked inside. Fred was sitting on his bed, his head resting in his hands, and the sight made your chest ache.
There was no sight of his dorm mates, they were likely out and about, lurking around campus somewhere.
He looked up when you entered, and his face softened immediately, though the exhaustion in his eyes noticeable.
“Hey,” you said gently, closing the door behind you.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice low. He patted the spot next to him, and you sat down, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, though you already had a good idea.
Fred sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Oliver. He’s... he’s been on my case. Said I was distracted during the match, that I wasn’t focused enough. Maybe he’s right.”
You frowned. “That’s not fair. I watched the whole match, Fred. You were brilliant out there.”
He shook his head, a humourless laugh escaping him. “Doesn’t feel like it. We lost. And Oliver... he’s just so stressed about this season. Guess I was an easy target today.”
Reaching out, you placed a hand on his arm, stroking gently. “Ignore him. He’s just upset because he cares too much about the team. But that doesn’t mean he’s right about you. You gave it your all, Fred. I could see it. And I’m so proud of you.”
You hated seeing him like this, your Fred, who always had a joke or a cheeky grin, now looking so defeated.
Fred gave you a small, grateful smile, his gaze softening further, though the weight of the day still lingered in his expression. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”
“Someone has to be,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “You’re not half as annoying as you pretend to be Weasley.”
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, and you decided you’d do anything to make it stick. An idea popped into your head, and you straightened up.
“Sit on the floor,” you said suddenly.
Fred blinked at you, confused. “What? Why? You’re not planning to hex me, are you?”
“No hexes,” you promised, laughing. “Just trust me.”
Still skeptical, Fred slid off the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. “This better be good,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.
You knelt behind him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. The moment you started massaging him, he tensed, clearly surprised.
“What are you—”
“Shh,” you interrupted, grinning. “Just relax.”
It didn’t take long for him to give in. A low groan escaped his lips as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders. “Merlin Y/N, that’s... bloody amazing,” he muttered, his head dipping forward.
“You’re all tense,” you said softly, your fingers kneading the muscles in his neck. “You’ve been carrying too much stress.”
Fred let out a deep sigh, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. “You’re going to put Madam Pomfrey out of a job,” he joked, his voice muffled. “This is—blimey—I could get used to this.”
You smiled, continuing to work your fingers along his shoulders and down his back. The earlier frustration and tension seemed to melt away, his breathing slowing as he leaned into your touch.
“You know,” he said after a while, his voice lighter now, “if you ever decide to quit school, you’ve got a future in saving stressed Quidditch players.”
You laughed, continuing to massage him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As you leaned closer, you couldn’t resist planting a soft, lingering kiss on the side of his neck. Fred’s breath hitched slightly at the unexpected gesture. Smiling against his skin, you pressed another kiss just below his ear, then one more at the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
“Wha—” Fred started, his voice thick with surprise and something softer, “what are you doing?”
“Cheering you up,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.
He let out a low, content hum, tilting his head slightly to give you more access. “Well, I’d say it’s working,” he moaned softly, his grin evident even though you couldn’t see it. “Bloody hell, you’re good at this.”
You giggled, continuing to pepper his neck with light, affectionate kisses. “Good. You deserve a little TLC after today.”
Fred turned his head slightly, his voice a little breathless now. “A little? I deserve this every day.”
“You’d get spoiled,” you teased, kissing just below his jawline.
“Already am,” he admitted with a happy sigh. “And if you don't stop I might just take you here and now." He moaned again, as you left him a hickey, sucking sweetly on the side of his neck.
"You like that Weasley?..." You cooed, continued planting sweet kisses around his neck and he threw his head back, groaning softly.
"Mhm, feels so good love..." He hummed, eyes shut as his breathing grew heavier.
You chuckled, pulling back slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, his lips curved in the most serene smile you’d seen all day. His usual cheeky confidence was still there, but it was softer now, tempered with gratitude and affection.
When you finally stopped, Fred turned around to face you, his brown eyes warm and filled with gratitude and adoration. “My girlfriend's incredible,” he said softly, reaching for your hand.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, smiling.
He got up and made his way onto the bed, hovering over you as he pushed you down gently, making you lie down with his hands beside your head, trapping you beneath him essentially.
He then bent down into a kiss, sweet and unhurried, his lips warm against yours. You giggled, as he continued, parting your mouth slightly as his tongue slipped inside.
His lips were soft, pillowy against your own. "Fred..." you moaned into his kiss softly as he sucked on your tongue. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, your fingers running through his hair as you breathed each other in.
He too, had always managed to make you melt at his touch, to feel good, to feel loved, you were weak beneath him.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a content sigh.
“You really know how to cheer a bloke up, don’t you?” he teased, his grin finally back.
“Someone’s got to keep you from sulking,” you quipped, poking his chest playfully.
Fred chuckled, moving to lay beside you on his bed. You curled up against his side, his arm wrapped securely around you.
For the first time that day, he looked completely at ease, the weight of the match’s loss forgotten.
As you lay there together, his fingers idly traced patterns on your arm. “You know,” he said after a while, his voice soft, “I don’t deserve you.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, frowning. “Don’t say that Freddie, you're amazing. You know, despite how much of a git you can be sometimes, you deserve all the happiness in the world.” You turn to face him, brushing some messy strands away from his face to see him, your Fred.
His grin returned, this time with a mischievous glint. “Well, if you insist... I suppose I’ll let you keep spoiling me.”
You laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “Don’t push it, Weasley.”
He laughed too, pulling you closer. “Too late.”
Fred pulled you into his arms, your bodies pressed against each other, your head rested below his, melting into his chest, one of the many perks being the little spoon.
The two of you laid there, tangled together, the world outside fading into nothing. His steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful nap.
When George returned later, he peeked in, grinning at the sight of you both asleep, Fred’s arms securely around you. He quietly closed the door, leaving you both to your well-deserved rest.
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prettybabybaby · 2 days ago
Text
rating: 18+. mdni.
pairing: stepbrother!sirius x reader x stepbrother!regulus
content: stepcest
“see, reggie?” sirius grunted, his head hung, a curtain of onyx hair shielding his face and the expression of pure bliss. “it’s not so hard to fucking share.”
regulus merely rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest, further creasing what was once a crisp white dress shirt. “as if you would share, you selfish bastard. you never-“
sirius cuts him off with a groan. “I'm the oldest. I don’t need to share.” he finally lifts his head, his eyes instantly locking with yours as your chest heaves up and down in time with his thrusts. “much less our pretty sister. she was mine first.”
regulus scoffs, “it doesn’t work like that you sick freak. she-“
sirius cuts him off again, adding to regulus’s growing frustration. “reggie, shut up already. can’t you see that your older siblings are busy? go play or something.”
regulus scowls, unable to resist giving sirius a childish shove. he glares venomously, “idiot. you’re not even doing it right. you don’t know what she likes.”
you let out a whimper as sirius’s cock slips out of you as regulus shoves him, your pussy on full display to their eyes. you gasp, cold air from the room sending a shiver down your spine as it blows against your sore clit. your brothers don’t dote on you as they normally would at any sign of the smallest distress, focused on their childish argument. you pout further at the loss of attention. “would you two please just-“
sirius snarls at regulus, shoving him back. “and you do?” he scoffs, pushing his hair back with one hand, the other tangling into yours, yanking the hair tie from your hair. he wraps it around his silky locks, shorter strands of his messy haircut falling from the loose ponytail.
you yelp, slapping his hand. you rub your scalp with a pout, “sirius! that fucking hurt!”
sirius ignores you, his own breath rough and ragged, his cheeks flushed a soft pink as he’s focused on your younger brother. “you’re lucky she let you fuck her in the first place. baby.”
“don't patronize me, sirius.” regulus grits, “she came to me.” a smug smile then pulls at his lips as he takes in sirius’s glare as he tuts, tugging his slick cock. “she still does. and never has she spoken a word about you all of the countless times I’ve fucked her. every time she’s milked me dry all these years... I know exactly what she likes. does that make you jealous, brother?”
sirius rolls his jaw before answering, “hardly. of course she’d go to the baby first. probably pitied your micro-“
regulus shoves him again roughly, his cheeks reddening, “I’m bigger than you.”
your older brother snorts, settling between your legs again, mindlessly tapping the weeping tip of his cock against your throbbing mound. “sure you are. you probably fuck her like a little puppy in heat. no wonder she didn’t fight me off. she’s probably ready for a real man.”
you could practically feel the anger radiating off of regulus’s body, his arms tight inside his shirt, his fists gripping the bedsheets, jaw clenched so tightly you worry for his teeth. you sigh, exasperated, “reggie, please don’t get mad. I’ll…” you place your hand atop his, letting out a strangled whine as sirius slips back inside you, “I’ll let you have a go after siri, okay?”
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missarchive · 2 days ago
Note
Spencer finally agrees to let you peg him and out of no where becomes a full submissive whiny and needy
so maybe i got a little carried away with this one...
cw; +18 minors dni, sub!spencer, anal play, oral (m. receiving), pegging, praise, sex toys, porn mention
You step into your bedroom, the weight of the day pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, golden hue across the room, but even that familiar comfort doesn’t alleviate your exhaustion. With a deep sigh, you collapse onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. The month has been brutal—a seemingly endless series of late nights, grueling days, and one of the most difficult cases your team has ever faced. The effort has drained every ounce of your energy, leaving little time for yourself, let alone for Spencer.
Your eyes drift to him, lying on his side of the bed, his profile bathed in the faint light. His eyes are closed, and the faint strains of classical music hum softly from his earbuds. It’s his nightly ritual, a small slice of tranquility amid the chaos. He’s so focused, so absorbed in the music, that he doesn’t even notice your gaze lingering on him.
You watch him for a few quiet moments, taking in the way his features seem to soften in the calm. His lashes rest against his cheeks, and his lips part ever so slightly, as though he’s on the verge of sleep. Something about him looks so peaceful, so untouched by the storm you’ve both weathered.
Taking a steadying breath, you push yourself upright. The exhaustion doesn’t fade, but something compels you to move closer. Crawling across the bed, you reach out, your hand coming to rest gently on his chest. His warmth seeps into your palm, grounding you in the moment.
“Spencer, honey,” you murmur softly.
The music halts immediately, and his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times before focusing on you, his gaze warm and familiar despite the weariness etched across his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice tinged with the heaviness of the day but laced with affection. “What’s up?”
You smile at the tenderness in his tone. Even now, when exhaustion clings to both of you like a second skin, he’s still so present, so attentive. “I wanted to ask you something,” you say, sliding out from under the covers to kneel on the mattress beside him.
Spencer sits up immediately, his brow furrowing slightly as his focus sharpens. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of apprehension.
You hesitate for a moment, searching for the right words. Your heart pounds a little faster as you finally voice the question. “I was wondering if you would let me peg you,” you say, keeping your tone as soft and nonchalant as possible.
His eyes widen slightly, and you notice the flicker of fear that passes through them. Spencer has always been open-minded and eager to make you happy, but you know this particular subject is new territory for him.
“Um…” he begins, his voice faltering as his gaze darts away. You can see the uncertainty in the way his hands fidget with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reach out to touch his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you say gently, offering him an easy way out. “We don’t have to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You start to slide back under the covers, prepared to let the moment pass, but his hand suddenly closes over yours, stopping you in your tracks.
“Wait,” he says, his voice firmer now.
You turn back to him, and this time his gaze is steady, locking onto yours with a newfound resolve. The nervousness is still there, but beneath it, you catch a spark of courage.
“I want to try it,” he says, his words measured but sincere. Your heart leaps at the declaration, a swell of gratitude and affection washing over you.
He hesitates, his voice softening as his vulnerability shines through. “I just… I don’t know if I’m going to like it. What if I hate it?” There’s a crack in his voice, and you can see how much courage it’s taking for him to even consider this.
You reach out again, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently against his cheeks. “If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. No pressure, no expectations. I just love that you’re willing to try this for me,” you say, your voice filled with reassurance.
Spencer nods slowly, exhaling a shaky breath. The nervousness in his eyes doesn’t disappear completely, but there’s a flicker of trust there now—trust in you and in the connection you share.
“I’m going to make sure you like it,” you say softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. The warmth of the gesture makes his smile bloom, and he kisses you back, his lips tender and unhurried against yours.
“I promise I’ll take care of you,” you murmur, your voice filled with affection and sincerity. You kiss him again, this time lingering just a little longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. When you pull away, his smile is still there—soft and genuine—and the sight of it fills your chest with a deep, quiet happiness.
“We’ll take a few days,” you continue, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face. “I want you to feel comfortable and relaxed. When you’re ready, we’ll do this. Okay?”
Spencer looks at you for a moment, his hazel eyes searching yours before he nods. “Okay,” he says softly, his voice carrying a mixture of trust and determination.
Satisfied, you shift back to your usual spot on your side of the bed, nestling into the familiar warmth of the blankets. Spencer watches you with a thoughtful expression before settling down beside you, his hand briefly grazing yours as if to anchor himself to you.
“Alright,” he says, his tone lightening just enough to let you know he’s trying. “I’ll do my best to relax by then.”
You smile to yourself, feeling a quiet pride in his willingness to try something new, to trust you so deeply. The soft hum of contentment settles over the room, and as you close your eyes, you know this is just another way your connection grows stronger.
A few days later, Spencer comes home earlier than usual. You’re lounging in the living room when you hear the front door open and slam shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of his hurried footsteps heading straight for the bedroom. Something about his energy feels different—excited, almost jittery.
Curious, you follow him and peek into the room just as he’s setting down a large box and a few smaller items you can’t quite make out. He’s grinning from ear to ear, his cheeks flushed with anticipation, and his hazel eyes shine brighter than you’ve seen in days.
“What’s all that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer.
Spencer takes a deep breath, his hands brushing over the box nervously before he looks up at you. “I did some research,” he says, his tone a mixture of pride and awkwardness. His gaze flickers down to the items he’s brought, and his cheeks redden even further. “I was scared at first, but… I knew how much this meant to you.”
You tilt your head, watching him intently as he takes a small step forward. There’s a flicker of determination in his expression now, pushing through the nerves. “So… I watched porn.”
The words catch you off guard, and a burst of laughter escapes before you can stop it. Spencer looks so adorably earnest, standing there with that sheepish expression, that you can’t help but find the moment endearing. “Porn?” you repeat, chuckling.
“Well, yeah,” he says, shifting on his feet as he scratches the back of his neck. “It seemed like the most efficient way to learn. I wanted to understand, you know… technique.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but the blush spreading across his face betrays his embarrassment.
Your laughter softens into a warm smile as he takes another step closer, his nervous energy practically radiating off him. “So,” he continues, motioning to the items behind him, “I bought all this stuff for us. I think it should work well together.”
Intrigued, you walk over to the pile and begin inspecting it. Inside the box, you find a selection of items: large plugs, sleek dildos in varying sizes, several bottles of lube, and a high-quality harness. Your excitement builds as you take in everything he’s thoughtfully gathered. Each piece feels intentional, like he’s truly put effort into understanding and preparing for this.
When you turn back to him, Spencer is watching you closely, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. The vulnerability in his expression makes your heart swell.
“Do you think we can start now?” he asks, his voice soft but steady as his eyes meet yours.
You nod, your excitement bubbling to the surface as you motion for him to come closer. He steps forward, his movements tentative but purposeful, and you reach for him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft against yours, trembling slightly with nerves. You can taste his apprehension, but it’s clear that his desire to please you—and his trust in you—overpowers his fears.
As the kiss deepens, you feel him relax ever so slightly, his hands brushing tentatively against your sides. The air between you is electric, charged with a mix of anticipation and affection. You pull back just enough to whisper, “We’ll take it slow, okay?”
Spencer nods, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the flicker of trust and excitement that’s starting to replace his nerves. 
You lean in, pressing soft kisses along Spencer’s neck, letting your lips linger just enough to tease. His breathing is already growing heavier, each exhale escaping with a faint quiver. You smile against his skin, the anticipation bubbling up inside you. This is going to be fun.
Trailing your kisses lower, you take your time exploring, savoring every reaction. When you reach his collarbone, you gently nip at it, and the sound he makes—a sharp gasp—sends a thrill through you. You glance up to see him tipping his head back, his eyes closed, his face awash in pleasure.
“Come on,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours. There’s no hesitation as he follows you, his trust evident in the way his fingers lace with yours. You guide him to the bed, and he sits on the edge, watching you with wide, expectant eyes.
Moving with intention, you step closer and begin to undress him. Your fingers work delicately at the buttons of his shirt, and as each one comes undone, you notice the faint rise and fall of his chest quicken. He’s looking at you intently, the nerves creeping back into his expression.
But then, his eyes meet yours. The warmth and hunger in your gaze seem to melt his apprehension. You can see the moment he relaxes, the tension in his shoulders easing as he realizes just how much you want this—how much you want him.
Once his clothes are discarded, you gently urge him to lie back on the bed. He complies, stretching out across the mattress, his legs parting instinctively as you position him. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him—his flushed cheeks, his slightly parted lips, and the way his body seems to tremble under your gaze.
Leaning down, you start with soft, warm kisses on the inside of his thighs. His skin is smooth and sensitive, and the way he twitches beneath your touch makes your smile widen. You keep your pace unhurried, teasing him with featherlight brushes of your lips.
Spencer’s breathing grows erratic, a mix of gasps and soft whimpers escaping him as you work your way closer to where he wants you most. His legs are already squirming, shifting restlessly as he tries to process the sensations.
“You’re so sensitive,” you murmur against his skin, your voice low and teasing.
He lets out a breathy laugh, but it’s quickly swallowed by another gasp as you press a firmer kiss to the tender flesh of his thigh.
You inch closer, your lips trailing ever upward, and the anticipation in Spencer’s body is palpable. His legs shift restlessly, his chest rising and falling as his breath comes in short, uneven bursts. By the time you’re near his cock, he’s already squirming beneath you, unable to stay still.
He’s so hard already, his arousal evident in the way he twitches with every slight movement of your touch. You glance up at him briefly before taking him into your mouth, the heat and weight of him filling you. The moment your lips wrap around him, he lets out a soft, unfiltered gasp that shoots straight through you.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, his voice rough and tinged with disbelief at the sensation.
You hum softly in response, letting the vibrations ripple through him as you start to move. Slow, deliberate bobs of your head have him unraveling almost immediately. You can feel every pulse, every throb of his arousal, and it only spurs you on.
Spencer’s hands grip the sheets beside him, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to keep some semblance of control. You know if you keep this up much longer, he’s not going to last—and that’s exactly why you stop.
Pulling back slowly, you release him with a soft, teasing drag of your tongue. Spencer’s eyes snap open, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of confusion and desperation. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to protest, his lips parting to complain, but then he notices the playful smile curling at the corners of your mouth.
“What?” he asks breathlessly, his voice hoarse with need as he glances down at you.
His expression is equal parts bewildered and captivated, and you can’t help but relish the sight of him—flushed, vulnerable, and completely at your mercy.
“I need you to relax for me, baby,” you whisper, your voice soft and soothing. Spencer looks at you, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and trust. After a moment, he nods, his lips curving into a small, hesitant smile. You watch as he exhales deeply, his shoulders beginning to loosen.
“That’s it,” you murmur, your tone encouraging as you reach over to the bedside table. You grab the bottle of lube, the cool weight of it in your hand grounding you as you turn back to him. Squeezing a generous amount into your palm, you warm it between your fingers before gently applying it to his rim.
He lets out a shaky breath at the first touch, his body instinctively tensing under your hand. “Relax,” you remind him softly, your other hand moving to rest reassuringly on his thigh. You feel the tension ease slightly as he takes another deep breath, his chest rising and falling in an effort to steady himself.
You slowly slip one finger inside, feeling his body react to the intrusion. He flinches slightly, his muscles tightening, but almost immediately forces himself to relax again, exhaling in measured breaths. His determination makes your heart swell, and you offer him a soft, encouraging smile.
“That’s good,” you say quietly, watching him closely. After a few moments, he nods, signaling his readiness for more.
Gently, you add a second finger, moving them with deliberate care. You curl and scissor them slightly, giving him time to adjust. His breathing quickens, and a small, breathy moan escapes his lips. The sound sends a spark of heat through you, and your gaze drifts up to his face.
Spencer’s eyes are closed now, his expression soft and blissful, his lips parted as he lets himself feel everything. The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so completely in the moment—makes desire pool low in your belly. You bite your lip, trying to steady yourself, but it’s impossible not to feel the pull of how much you want him.
Carefully, you add a third finger. The moment you do, his whole body tenses again, his thighs clenching under your touch. “Shh,” you soothe, your free hand stroking his thigh in slow, calming motions. “Just relax, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”
Spencer’s breaths are uneven as he struggles to let go of the tension. You feel him gradually soften under your touch, his body yielding bit by bit. His trust in you is palpable, and you move your fingers again, slow and deliberate, watching his reactions closely.
“That’s it, good boy, Spence” you whisper, your voice filled with quiet praise. He nods faintly, his body beginning to respond to the sensations rather than resist them. You feel the subtle shift as he starts to relax fully into your touch, and it only heightens the growing anticipation between you.
Spencer’s breaths are coming faster now, each exhale accompanied by soft, desperate moans that seem to escape without his permission. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with the pleasure coursing through him, and you know he’s finally relaxed enough to take the next step.
With care, you slide your fingers out of him, his body trembling slightly at the loss of contact. For a moment, you glance down and feel the heat bloom within you—you’re dripping wet, slick with desire, and the realization sends a thrill through your body. You smirk, your arousal heightened by how much Spencer has stirred in you.
Reaching down, you gather some of your wetness on your fingers, the sensation making you bite your lip in anticipation. Without hesitation, you wrap your slick fingers around his cock and stroke him gently, spreading your wetness over his length.
The reaction is immediate. Spencer gasps sharply, his eyes fluttering open as he looks down at you. His gaze locks onto your hand, watching as you glide over him, the sight seemingly too much for him to process. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice breaking on the word.
You smirk, letting your fingers trace over the sensitive head of his cock, watching his hips shift involuntarily in response. “You want me that badly?” you ask, your tone playful but tinged with heat.
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and filled with longing. He nods, his body practically vibrating with need.
Leaning down, you press your tongue against the underside of his cock, dragging it slowly from base to tip. The loud moan that spills from him is raw and unrestrained, sending shivers down your spine. His cock twitches against your lips, the sensation fueling your growing desire.
You continue, licking and teasing him, savoring every sound he makes. Spencer’s moans grow louder, filling the room as you work him over with deliberate care. The way he writhes beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as though they’re the only thing anchoring him, is intoxicating.
“Please,” he whimpers, his voice needy and breathless. “Oh, fuck, yes, please.”
His words make you smirk, a spark of satisfaction flickering in your chest as you take him deeper. You alternate between slow, languid strokes and quicker movements, your tongue tracing along his length with purpose. The taste of him, the sounds he makes, the way his body trembles—it all drives you to keep going.
After a few minutes, you feel him tensing again, his thighs tightening, his breathing becoming erratic. You know he’s close, his body teetering on the edge. You don’t let up, your head bobbing as you take him deeper, your tongue flicking over his most sensitive spots.
With a final, desperate moan, Spencer arches his back, his release hitting you in waves as he finishes in your mouth. You stay with him through it, savoring every reaction, until his body relaxes beneath you, spent and trembling. You pull away gently, wiping the corner of your mouth as you look up at him, his flushed face and half-lidded eyes the perfect reward for your efforts.
Spencer’s chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath, his skin flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. When you finally release him, his cock slipping from your mouth, he groans softly. “That was so fucking good,” he murmurs, his voice still thick and breathless.
You smirk, wiping the corner of your lips as you rise to your feet. “We’re not done yet,” you tease, shooting him a playful glance. His gaze follows you as you walk over to the bedside table, where you retrieve one of the plugs he picked out and the lube.
Returning to him, you squirt a generous amount of lube onto your fingers, warming it between them before gently pressing against his rim again. The sensation pulls a moan from him almost instantly, his body reacting to your touch.
“Relax for me,” you whisper, your tone both soothing and commanding. Spencer nods faintly, his muscles easing as you work your way back in. Sliding one finger inside, you feel him clench momentarily before softening again.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word falling from his lips like a mantra, over and over, as though it’s the only thought he can cling to.
You add a second finger, twisting and scissoring them gently to stretch him further. His back arches off the bed, his head pressing into the pillow as he gasps, “Holy shit.” His voice trembles, and the moans that follow are softer now, more drawn out, as he lets the pleasure overtake him.
His body writhes under your touch, his breathing becoming shallow and erratic. You can tell he’s teetering close to the edge again, his cock twitching against his stomach. But you’re not ready for him to finish—not yet.
Adding a bit more lube, you withdraw your fingers and press the first plug against his entrance. Slowly, carefully, you ease it in, watching as his body adjusts. Spencer lets out a sharp gasp at the new sensation, his thighs trembling as his entire body tenses for a moment.
You pause, your free hand resting on his thigh in reassurance. “Breathe,” you murmur, waiting until his body softens again. When he finally relaxes, you ask, “How does that feel?”
His head tilts back as he nods, his voice barely audible. “Fuck yes, so so good,” he mumbles, though the words are almost lost in his shaky breaths.
You can’t help the swell of pride in your chest as you take in the sight of him—so open, so willing to trust you with this. He’s being incredibly brave, pushing himself beyond his comfort zone, and it’s not lost on you how vulnerable he must feel.
Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to his lips, your voice gentle and affectionate as you murmur, “Good boy.”
The effect is immediate. Spencer’s eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, you see something new flicker within them. There’s a softness there, a quiet, submissive energy that hadn’t been present before.
You smirk, your lips curving into a knowing smile as you whisper, “You like that, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer with words, but the way his cheeks flush deeper and his eyes dart away shyly tells you everything you need to know. His vulnerability is achingly beautiful, and you make a silent vow to take care of him—to guide him through this new experience with all the care and tenderness he deserves.
You lean down and kiss him deeply, your lips brushing softly against his before pulling away just enough to see his face. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with anticipation. “What do I do?” he asks, his voice tinged with both curiosity and need, so vulnerable yet eager.
The sound of him like this—so needy, so open—is enough to make your breath hitch. “Just let me take care of you,” you whisper, running your fingers down his chest. The slight drag of your nails across his skin elicits a low, drawn-out moan from him, his body arching into your touch.
“Let me make you feel good,” you say softly, your hand gliding down to wrap around his cock. He’s already hard again, his arousal obvious in the way he throbs in your palm. Spencer’s cheeks flush pink, and he lets out another quiet moan as you stroke him slowly.
Your movements pause as you reach for the harness, slipping it on with practiced ease. The straps hug your hips snugly, and you adjust it to make sure it’s secure. The soft click of the buckles draws Spencer’s attention, and his breath hitches audibly when he sees you attach the dildo.
“What...what is that?” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly as his gaze flicks between the harness and your face.
“It’s a harness,” you say with a smile, stepping closer so he can see it better. Holding up the dildo, you let it catch the light as you grin down at him. “And this,” you purr, running your fingers along its length for effect, “is what I’m going to fuck you with.”
The way Spencer’s eyes darken with a mixture of nervousness and excitement is absolutely intoxicating. His lips part as though he wants to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he shifts slightly on the bed, his thighs pressing together in anticipation.
You grab the lube, squirting a generous amount onto the dildo and spreading it evenly. The slick sound fills the quiet room, heightening the tension as you glance up at him.
“Are you ready?” you ask, your voice low and steady, but the heat in your tone is unmistakable.
Spencer’s head tips back against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “Fuck yes, please, sweetheart” he breathes, his voice trembling with desire.
Positioning yourself behind him, you take a moment to admire him. His body is laid bare before you, his back arched slightly, his ass raised in perfect submission. The sight alone makes your pulse race, and you can’t help but let out a soft exhale.
You press the tip of the dildo against his entrance, moving slowly and deliberately. The resistance is brief before the head slips inside, and Spencer lets out a soft, shuddering moan. His muscles clench reflexively around you, his body so tight and warm that it takes everything in you not to rush.
“Breathe,” you remind him gently, your free hand stroking his lower back in reassurance. He takes a shaky inhale, the tension easing as you push in a little further.
His whimpers fill the room, soft and needy, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through you. “Oh, God,” he whispers, his voice strained as his hands grip the sheets. The vulnerability in his tone makes your chest tighten with both affection and desire.
You move inch by inch, letting him adjust at his own pace. Each sound he makes—every gasp, every whispered curse—fuels you, and the way his body quivers beneath you is impossibly alluring.
When you’re fully seated inside him, you pause, leaning over to kiss the back of his neck. “You’re doing so well, Spence” you murmur against his skin, your voice soft but full of praise. His whole body shivers at your words, and you can feel him relax even further, melting into the moment.
You reach around Spencer and start to stroke his cock. He gasps when he feels you touch him again, you know he must be so over-sensitive by this point. “Holy fuck, that feels good,” he gasps. You can hear how close he’s getting. “Faster, please,” he begs. You oblige and start to go harder.
You can feel Spencer starting to tighten up around the dildo, you know he’s getting even closer. “Oh fuck,” he says loudly. You’re going as fast as you can, you know your thighs will be on fire tomorrow morning.
“Fuck me harder,” he gasps, you can hear the whine in his voice.
Spencer lets out a loud gasp, his body going even more tense. His cock twitches before shooting out into your palm, cum trickling down your hand as he arches into your touch subconsciously. Thrusting into him until you feel him go limp against you before gently pulling the dildo out, allowing him to collapse back onto the bed. His face is sweaty and his breathing is labored but you think he’s never looked more beautiful. You climb off him and lay beside him, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Such a pretty boy,” you praise, he smiles at you.
You lean up to kiss him again but he suddenly looks worried.
“Did I do good?” He asks. You can hear the fear in his voice and you look at him with soft eyes. “Of course you did,” you say, giving him another kiss. His eyes immediately relax and he smiles. “Did so well for me, honey,” you praise him, giving him soft kisses down his neck.
Spencer moans softly as you kiss him and you can tell that he’s enjoying the aftercare. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For what?” You ask. “For doing this with me,” he says. You look at him with softness and you smile.  “Anything for you,” you say.
You continue with the aftercare until Spencer is relaxed again. His eyes are closed and his breathing is normal again. You give him one last kiss before you climb out of bed to get cleaned up. As soon as you’re standing you feel a soft hand wrap around your thigh, you look down and see Spencer looking up at you with need in his eyes again.
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“Just to clean up,” you say, your voice gentle but practical as you shift to sit up.
But before you can move, Spencer’s hand lightly brushes against your arm. “Stay here with me,” he whispers, his tone so soft and pleading that it tugs at your heartstrings. “Please?”
There’s something about the way he says it—so vulnerable, so utterly sincere—that makes it impossible to refuse him. The faint curve of his lips and the tired, hopeful gleam in his eyes only add to his charm. He’s irresistible like this, a mix of sweet and earnest.
“Okay,” you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips as you settle back down beside him.
Spencer’s face lights up with a small, grateful smile before he shifts closer, snuggling into your side as if seeking comfort in your warmth. His lean frame molds perfectly against you, and the weight of him feels grounding, soothing.
Gently, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close and holding him securely. The soft scent of his shampoo mingles with the faintest trace of coffee still clinging to him, a reminder of the day you’ve shared.
“Thank you,” he breathes, his voice muffled as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your skin, but the sensation is pleasant, comforting even.
You feel the tension in his body slowly melt away, his breathing evening out as he relaxes fully into your embrace. The moment feels tender, intimate—a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.
Before long, the soft rhythm of his snores fills the air. You hold him a little tighter, savouring the peacefulness of having him so close, and let yourself be lost in the simplicity of the moment.
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skylin-files · 3 days ago
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girl code ⋆ na jaemin
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pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?
pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn
featuring! winter of aespa, nct members
note: this is part two. i initially planned for this to be a two-part story, but i decided to divide it into three parts.
i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡
check part one here: part 1 | part 3 (final) coming soon..
── .✦
You couldn’t help but be impressed by how focused Jaemin was during class. His attention to detail was striking, and when you glanced over at his notes, you felt a little embarrassed comparing them to your own messier ones. You’d thought you’d only see him during lab sessions, but after recent events, it seemed like you were running into him everywhere on campus.
“All these years in college, and why am I only seeing you now?” you asked once, half-joking, only to be met with a casual shrug and his teasing response about how maybe you weren’t meant to cross paths before. You brushed it off with a laugh, unaware of the sincerity hidden in his words—or that the boy you were getting to know had once been one of your best friend's situationships.
Looking back, it was strange that you and Na Jaemin had never met, especially considering his past situationship with Winter, your best friend, back when she was in her “situationship” phase with him. Then again, Winter never introduced her situationships or talking stages to you—she’d share stories about them but never revealed exactly who they were.
Speaking of Winter, you found yourself reunited once again, this time hanging out at a newly opened café near your university. You couldn’t help but notice, though only briefly, how she seemed to gravitate back to the area, just like that time she showed up at a bar nearby.
“Remember the situationship I told you about?” she asked suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Which one?” you replied sincerely, given the sheer number of past situationships she’d mentioned over the years.
“The one I said looks so good—like he’s God’s favorite child,” Winter clarified with a grin. You nodded as the memory resurfaced, unaware that she was, in fact, talking about Na Jaemin—your lab partner.
���Well, he’s actually from your university,” she confessed with a sheepish smile, leaving you to process her words.
“He’s actually the reason I went to that local club near your campus,” she added.
“The club near our university? The night you texted me to pick you up?” you clarified, watching her nod in confirmation.
“What’s the deal, though? He’s a past situationship. Why were you at the club because of him?” you asked, thoroughly puzzled.
“Well, I knew he was going to be there,” Winter admitted.
“We haven’t talked for months now, but I knew he’d be at the club because his best friend is a social media guy—always posting updates about his whereabouts. They’re like a duo, always together,” she explained. You nodded, still a bit confused.
“Okay, but why go there because of him?” you asked.
“Well, after seeing his latest post, I kind of started missing him, you know,” she confessed.
You snorted, immediately catching on to where this was heading. “So, you’re planning to start another situationship stage with him?” you teased, earning a sheepish smile from Winter.
“I’m not sure... maybe if we’re on the same page,” she replied.
You shook your head playfully. “Seriously, you and your situationships. Why not just date the guy?” you suggested, fully focused on her until your phone buzzed with a new text message.
Na Jaemin: "Hey, are you free this Friday afternoon?"
Na Jaemin: "I was wondering if we could start with our lab report."
You smiled at the text, yet another reminder of how responsible a student he was. You quickly sent back a short confirmation for Friday before turning your attention back to Winter.
“So, I’m planning to go to this party on Friday. I heard his best friend, Jeno, is going, so I’m sure he’ll be there too,” Winter said, casually name-dropping the best friend of her situationship.
The name, Jeno, sounded familiar—like you’d heard it somewhere before—but you brushed off the thought and let it pass.
"Well, drink responsibly because I won’t be available to pick you up on Friday. My lab partner and I are working on a report," you said.
"Academics on a Friday night?" Winter grimaced, earning a casual shrug from you.
"It’s better to get things done sooner rather than later," you replied, pausing for a moment. "And... hey, my lab partner, he’s kind of cute," you added, almost unsure if you should’ve said it.
Winter’s eyes widened in shock. "Did my man-hater best friend just call a boy cute?" she squealed.
"I’m not a man-hater!" you protested.
"Okay, Ms. ‘Boys would do me no good and only be a distraction,’" she teased.
"I just said he’s cute," you defended, shaking your head.
Oh, how small the world was—two best friends having two entirely different conversations, neither realizing they were both talking about the same boy.
── .✦
It had been a productive Friday night with Jaemin, the two of you managing to finish almost half of your lab report. Deciding to grab a bite, you headed to a nearby diner Jaemin had recommended. On the way, you passed by a group of teenagers dressed as if they were heading to a club.
“I hate clubs,” Jaemin commented casually, prompting you to raise a brow.
“But you were at a club on a school night when I picked up Winter,” you replied, not noticing the slight wince Jaemin made at the mention of your best friend’s name.
“My best friend likes partying. That boy used to be such a homebody, but the college scene changed him. It’s not a big deal, though—he’s enjoying himself, and that’s his life,” Jaemin shared, earning a nod from you.
“So, you go to parties just to accompany him?” you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.
“He’s actually going to a party tonight. Good thing I’m occupied,” Jaemin said with a playful wink, earning a playful eye roll from you.
Suddenly, Winter came to mind. “Winter—she’s going to a party tonight too,” you said, and Jaemin fell silent, seemingly waiting for you to say more.
You didn’t intend to overshare, but the conversation with Jaemin flowed so easily that your words just came out.
“She went to the party to see her past situationship. She wants to get back with him. Honestly, I’m starting to genuinely worry about her choices in the dating scene,” you said.
Jaemin suddenly had a feeling you were talking about him, but he hesitated. He knew Winter was the type of girl who had a lot of different situationships, which made him second-guess his assumption.
“He’s actually from our university,” you added, confirming Jaemin’s suspicions.
“Did she consider if the guy wanted to get back with her too?” Jaemin asked, earning a hum of acknowledgment from you.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know who the guy is or why their situationship ended,” you replied.
There was a brief silence, as Jaemin debated whether to share what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke.
“Well, I used to have a situationship too,” Jaemin said.
You weren’t expecting him to open about his own dating life, but you listened attentively. It wasn’t entirely surprising—he was, after all, a handsome guy.
“That was my first and last, though. I don’t want to go through it again. It’s useless. A waste of time. It doesn’t do you any good,” he continued, causing you to grin. Finally, someone who agreed with you.
“Right? How could people act like they’re more than friends but less than lovers, or even do couple things just to call it casual?” you said. Jaemin couldn’t help but smile at your firm stance.
“I didn’t expect it to end like that, you know? The moment I wanted to take things seriously, the moment I wanted to court the girl properly, she cut me off,” Jaemin admitted.
You felt sympathy for him.
“One of the worst decisions ever. I didn’t know what to do back then,” he added.
“That’s okay, at least now you know that situationships aren’t for you,” you said, earning a nod from Jaemin.
“And besides, this is probably your first time being an adult, so you won’t always know what to do,” you added, your words offering comfort. Jaemin felt that not going to another party with Jeno tonight was the best decision he’d made in a while.
── .✦
It was another day on campus during lunch break. You were sitting with Mark and Haechan at the cafeteria, scrolling through your social media when you came across photos from Winter’s party last Friday night. Your best friend looked stunning, a natural beauty, and you smiled as you admired her, noticing how happy she appeared in the pictures.
"I wonder if she ran into her situationship," you muttered to yourself.
Suddenly, Haechan cleared his throat, a little louder than usual, causing you to give him a puzzled look. He pointed toward a specific direction, and as you followed his gaze, you spotted Jaemin walking toward your table.
"Hey," he said, flashing you a charming grin.
"Hey," you responded, meeting his gaze.
His smile widened, and Mark, who was seated at the table with you, looked slightly confused, wondering who the boy was. Meanwhile, Haechan wasn’t being very subtle, eyeing both of you closely.
"I was wondering if you're free this Friday?" Jaemin asked.
Mark nearly choked on his noodles upon hearing the question, while Haechan was equally surprised, considering you usually didn’t prioritize dating.
"Why? Are we going to continue the project?" you asked, only to see Mark and Haechan slump in disappointment, thinking it was just about the project. However, they quickly perked up again when Jaemin spoke.
"No, actually, there’s this art exhibit I wanted to go to. I’m not sure if you’re into that, but..." Jaemin paused, pulling out two tickets from his wallet. "I have two tickets," he said, hoping you wouldn’t turn him down.
You were taken aback. You’d spent a fair amount of time with Jaemin around campus, but outside of that? Not much. Haechan and Mark were exchanging eager nudges under the table, clearly anticipating your response.
"Friday night, huh?" you said, looking at Jaemin.
He hummed in response.
"Is this just another one of your tricks to avoid going with your best friend to a party?" you joked, earning a laugh from Jaemin. Even his laugh was charming.
"Maybe," he said with a playful grin. "But I think this invitation is more of a 'I want to spend time with you, no academic work involved.' So, will you go with me?"
You smiled back at him. "Sure, I’d love to, Jaemin."
── .✦
You were going out with Jaemin, but was it really a date, or just a casual hangout to check out an art exhibit? You weren’t sure, but it felt different from the usual hangouts you had with him, Haechan, or Mark.
It was your first time going out with a boy, and despite the diner trip you had with him the previous night, this felt new. To be honest, you didn’t know how to feel—excited, nervous, unsure. You found yourself questioning whether it was the right thing to do.
"One hangout won’t distract you from your academics. Ms. ‘Boys won’t do me good’," Winter teased over the phone.
"Sorry, I’m not used to going out with boys like you," you muttered, making Winter wince on the other end.
"Good gracious, relax, my love! There’s nothing to worry about! Just be yourself, have fun, it’s your first date since... well, forever!" she exclaimed.
"But of course, when I say, ‘be yourself,’ dressing in a hoodie and pants is not what I mean.," Winter added, making you groan.
"You better send me the outfit before the date! I need to approve," she laughed, clearly excited for you.
From her voice, you could tell she was genuinely happy for you. Little did she know, this was just the beginning, and things were about to change in ways she never expected.
── .✦
You were incredibly nervous while waiting for Jaemin to pick you up. You had suggested meeting him at the art exhibit, but he insisted on picking you up. Your hands were sweating, but when Jaemin finally arrived at your doorstep with a smile on his face, all of your anxiety seemed to vanish. His presence had a calming effect on you.
The ride to the exhibit was short, and once you arrived, you were in awe of the incredible pieces on display. Jaemin noticed the excitement in your eyes and felt relieved that you were genuinely enjoying the experience, just like he did.
Jaemin had his camera with him, a hobby he had mentioned before. To your surprise, he was actually a talented photographer. He offered to take your photo next to one of the paintings. You were shy at first, but his encouraging smile made you feel at ease, and you posed for the picture.
When you saw the photo, you were pleasantly surprised—it turned out great, and you looked good. You weren’t as photogenic as Winter, but Jaemin’s photo made you feel like you could be.
“I look good,” you said, grinning like a child. Jaemin nodded, smiling back at you.
Just then, a random stranger, an older woman, commented, “They say the way someone photographs you says a lot about how they feel about you.” Both you and Jaemin turned to look at her, caught off guard by her remark.
The woman chuckled at your surprised expressions and asked, “I’m not a professional photographer, but would you like me to take a photo of both of you?”
You and Jaemin exchanged a smile and replied, “Yes, please.”
── .✦
It was a dull Friday night for Winter. She decided to stay in and take a break from the party scene for just one night. While strolling through her social media, she came across a post from Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend. He was at another party.
"I wonder if Jaemin's with him this time," she muttered, remembering how she had met Jeno at the party last Friday but Jaemin was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, Winter decided to check Jaemin’s social media. He wasn’t the most active online, but to her surprise, Jaemin had posted something just a few minutes ago.
The post read: "The way someone photographs you reveals a lot about how they feel about you."
The post was accompanied by photos from an art exhibit. Winter lazily scrolled through the pictures, not paying much attention to the artwork, until she reached the last one.
It was a photo of Jaemin with you, her best friend.
A chill ran through her as she pieced everything together, suddenly realizing that her situationship and your lab partner involved the same person all along—Na Jaemin.
── .✦
"What does it mean when a guy doesn't post me on his social media, but then posts the next girl he's seeing after just one date?" Winter asked out of the blue.
You two were once again at the café near your university, but this time, Haechan had joined you.
Your eyebrows raised at her question, finding it odd and sensing something was off about her lately. "Maybe he wasn't that serious about you back then?" you suggested.
Winter's blood began to boil at your response. "And he's serious about the new girl just because he posted her?" she snapped, Haechan giving her a side-eye at the sharpness in her tone.
"Yeah? It's possible?" you said, confused by her irritated and dejected reaction.
"It was just a photo dump, apparently their picture just made the cut," Winter explained, though she knew deep down her statement wasn't entirely accurate, especially considering what she knew about Jaemin.
Haechan raised an eyebrow and decided to comment, "Why are you mad about it, though? Do you post any guy on your social media?" he asked, earning a small "no" from Winter.
"And you expect them, or this person, to post you?" Haechan remarked, feeling that the conversation was a bit immature.
Winter muttered softly, only for herself to hear, "The girl he posted never posted him either."
She glanced at you, her best friend, feeling guilty for her emotions. Why was she even upset? She and Jaemin were never a thing, and besides, she had cut him off when he wanted to take things seriously.
It was her own fault for letting someone like Jaemin go.
"By the way, how was your date?" Winter asked, trying her best to offer a sincere smile.
"I had fun," you replied almost immediately, while Haechan smirked, typing on his laptop.
"Oh, yes, she did. And it wasn’t just a friendly date, either. They were holding hands, for God’s sake," Haechan added.
Winter felt like she had been splashed with cold water upon hearing that. "We used to hold hands too," Winter muttered to herself.
"Wait," you said, catching both Winter and Haechan’s attention. "You said you both knew each other," you recalled, remembering the scene from the club. "Jaemin, Na Jaemin. You know him, right? How could I have missed this? He’s the guy I’ve been telling you about," you said, showing Winter a picture of you and Jaemin—the same one Jaemin had posted on his social media.
"Oh, yeah, we know each other," Winter said, clenching her hands under the table. "You guys really do look good together," she added.
"You mean it?" you asked, recalling the first time Winter mentioned that you and Jaemin looked good together, which was that night at the local club when she had been drunk.
"Yup," Winter replied, her face adorned with a fake smile.
Meanwhile, on campus, Mark was frantically processing the information he had just discovered. While strolling through social media, he came across a 2024 photo dump from Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend and Mark’s classmate. The post was a bit late, given that the new year had already passed.
As Mark continued scrolling, he found a group photo that made his eyes widen in shock. In the photo was Jaemin, the guy he knew you had recently gone on a date with, and right beside him was Winter, your best friend. But it wasn’t just any photo; Winter was leaning on Jaemin in a way that felt quite intimate. Mark immediately felt uneasy and forwarded the photo to Haechan.
When Haechan saw the photo, everything clicked. He instantly understood what was going on, piecing it all together. Staring at Winter intently, Haechan now knew exactly who she had been talking about, why she had been acting so strange, and the reason behind her fake smile.
── .✦
Later that day, you returned home with a smile on your face. Your lab report with Jaemin was complete, and you both had done well. After class, you decided to grab dessert, and Jaemin even drove you home.
As you walked in, you couldn’t help but start questioning what was going on between the two of you. Your usual "guys won’t do me any good" mantra was slowly fading away, and you found yourself worried this might end up like the situation with your best friend, Winter. But then you recalled the conversation you had with Jaemin about situationships, which gave you some reassurance that things wouldn’t go down that road.
Settling in at home, you started scrolling through your phone, laughing at memes on your timeline. But then you realized you hadn’t come across any of Winter’s posts.
"Is she not home yet?" you muttered to yourself.
It was unusual for Winter not to be active on social media since she was always posting. Without thinking, you checked her profile, a bad feeling settling in your stomach. When you opened her page, your heart dropped. You stared at her profile for a moment, then decided to call her.
"Hello?" she answered, her voice cold.
"Winter," you said, your voice tight.
"Yes? Do you need something? I have cheer practice soon," she replied, her tone distant.
"Winter, why did you soft block me on your social media?" you asked, a knot forming in your chest.
There was a long silence on the other end. "I'm sorry, but I have cheer in a bit. I can’t talk about this right now," she said before hanging up.
You were stunned. This wasn’t the Winter you knew. She never avoided a conversation, no matter how big or small the issue.
Your grip on your phone tightened, and then a notification popped up.
It was from Mark.
He had sent you a photo—a group photo, to be exact. But this wasn’t just any group picture. In it, Jaemin and Winter stood side by side, looking far too intimate for comfort.
── .✦
tags: @carelessshootanonymous @taliaamara @zgzgzh @tinyzen @urlocalbeaner5 @profoundruinsunknown
let me know if you want to be tagged in part three/the last part. 𓂃۶ৎ
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skteezcursed · 2 days ago
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❝little bears and tiny stars❞ — c.jh (event).
PAIRING. choi jongho x afab!reader.
GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers. kinda second chance. soulmate au. the boys playing cupid. alcohol consumption. the sfw parts are partially self indulgent. swearing. lots of mutual pining. idiots in love. jongho is an idiot (in the best of senses). mature talk (?). fluff. a bit of angst. soft sex. body worshiping. cunnilingus. unprotected sex (please don't!). pull out method. fingering. jongho is the sweetest (even too much). pet names (star for reader, bear for jongho). praises. pleasure dom! jongho. sub! reader. lots and lots of kisses. not proof read. (let me know if i forgot something).
SYNOPSIS. you were a sensitive topic, everyone knew. so when san brings your name to the table after years you and jongho drew apart, he knew something was up, he just didn't know how deep he'd dig himself once he spent time with you again. but then again, neither did you. maybe a second chance isn't just for a friendship like relationship.
RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.
WORD COUNT. 16k (sorry).
NOTES. english is not my first language. this is for the secret santa event for @cromernet and this is specially for my sweet dear friend @yourlocaljonghoe , surprise! another jongho fic just how you like it made for me to you (sorry it's a bit longer than expected). idk if you suspected when we talked, i hope no hehe but i do hope you like it, i love you and i'm sorry for the delay, bye ♡.
IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.
CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡
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“Yah! Choi San, c’mon it’s the time for the Choi Brothers’ song to make us all cry and start this damn karaoke night!” Wooyoung said loudly as soon as San entered the booth with a puzzled look and smile on his lips. “Why you like that?”
“San-ah, c’mon I already selected IU’s ‘Dear Name’, what are you—” Yunho stops watching San with the same curious look that Wooyoung was giving him. “What happened?”
“Jongho-ah!” San calls for his little brother who quickly turns to look at him puzzled, making San smirk a little. “What’s that friend of yours name? The one you were basically joined to the hip until like middle school when they switched schools and you two lost contact?”
Jongho froze for a moment. “Which friend are you talking about?”
“Oh, they were cute! Where are they now?” 
Mingi chimes in trying to see where San was heading, but his eyes were focused on Jongho, the smirk still there noticing how his little brother tried to downplay the whole thing. The others quickly started to notice San had valuable information, and bringing you into the conversation was not without a reason. Seonghwa was quick to join in the teasing.
“Oh I remember them! They were so cute, and how they got all shy when we joined both of them was so adorable,” the boys started to chuckle, some more obvious than others, watching Jongho trying to act as if the subject of you didn’t affect him one bit. “Makes me wonder though, have you truly lost contact with them?”
“Weren’t they like… your ultimate crush but you were too much of a chicken to say something?”
“No, remember, he was set on the fact they had a crush on San, not him.”
Yunho said back to Wooyoung and the guys all laughed at Jongho’s eye roll. “It’s not like that, they—”
“So you finally admit they liked you and you were too much of a chicken?”
Hongjoong chimed in, Yeosang followed after him.
“Are you going to deny you had a crush on them or are you still in denial that they had a crush on you?”
“You people are the worst,” he said, shaking his head before looking back at San, considerably annoyed. “Why are you even bringing them up? It’s been ages and —”
“I think they are here and that they recognized me while I was paying for our time in the karaoke,” San said simply with a small smirk. “I think it doesn’t take a genius to know they’d probably recognize you. I mean… if you still want to be friends with them, of course…”
“They won’t remember me,” Jongho’s words were quick, stern but the boys knew the youngest well enough to know there was a hint of hope in his words. “And how are you sure they remember you? Just because (y/n) had a crush on you—”
“(y/n)!” The boys all celebrated as Jongho said your name before San turned back to Jongho with a knowing smile. “Also, just because you think they had a crush on me, doesn’t mean they did… but let’s play your game, shall we?” The boys chuckled as Jongho kept rolling his eyes as San observed his younger brother. “If, like you said, they remember me because you assume I was their crush… why wouldn’t they remember you who was their best friend for years? Care to explain that logic?”
The other six all observed the exchange with smirks and curious glances. 
“Are we gonna do karaoke or not?” 
“Oh, right, I forgot I asked for a few things, do you mind picking it up with me bro? It will make it easier and faster… unless… you are scared to meet with your lovely crush— I mean… friend, (y/n).”
Jongho rolled his eyes once more at San’s comment and the others snickering. He was terrified of seeing you again after all these years. Would you still remember him? Would you say hello to him? Would you hug him? Would you ignore him? Would you act like you acted with San and kinda show you know each other even if from a distance? Would you—
“He’s a chicken, he won’t do it.”
“Shut up, Mingi. Let’s go and end this, hm?” He headed to the door opening up and looking back at San with the door open who still had a smirk and raised eyebrows. The boys knew how to push Jongho’s buttons, but when it involved you, San was the expert at it. “What you asked?” 
“A few bottles of soju and some snacks… why?” The older Choi said as both brothers headed to the eating area to get everything. San chuckled as he noticed Jongho looking around curiously while trying to remain unseen. “What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”
“Hm?”
“(y/n)... What are you gonna do when they recognize you?”
Jongho scoffed trying to downplay the situation. “Why are you so sure they’ll recognize me? It’s been years, San, it’s not like—”
“Oh, San, hello again,” how long has it been since he heard your voice? It didn’t matter, because the second he heard your voice, he knew he had ever forgotten, nor had his heart, “Jon–Jongho?”
Jongho felt San elbow his side, as the younger Choi raised his head meeting your gaze. He had to hold his jaw tight so it wouldn’t meet the floor. You were just as gorgeous as you were previously, only… more. Your smile widened as you recognized him, you had recognized him, right? He wasn’t imagining things, you—
“I see you got my suggestion…” San’s words woke Jongho up, he felt a stir in his stomach at his brother’s smile towards you, which you nodded with a shy smile of your own, one Jongho had seen many times when San was around. Did you still have a crush on San? “But that’s too little, where are your friends?”
“Oh, they had to leave, we had already used our paid time, and another group had booked the booth so yeah… and I was still hungry, so I decided to come and pick a few things before I leave and—”
“You are leaving?” Jongho said quickly, almost desperately. You looked at him confused and a bit surprised, while San held back a smile and a laugh at his younger brother’s reaction. “I—I mean, we—”
“Why don’t you come with us to our booth? We wouldn’t mind reconnecting with an old friend, if you have nothing better to do, that is.”
You pondered for a moment looking between San and Jongho who was trying to keep his cool after seeing you after all these years. 
“You sure it’s okay if I join in?”
“Yeah, we are still the same group as before, you remember the guys right?” San commented with a small smile, noticing how you noticed Jongho’s nervous behavior. “Look, everyone will be happy to have you around, like the old days when you’d always visit our house and we would all hang out, right?”
It was true, at least in a way. But it had been years now, and Jongho didn’t seem much of a fan of the thought. “Jongho… you okay with that?”
His mind went haywire. 
He never thought he’d hear you call his name ever again.
But here you were, looking at him with your worried eyes and all the feelings he thought he had long forgotten had returned full force.
“Wh-why would you think I’m not okay with that?”
San looked between the two of you with an amused smirk, watching what you would answer back. “Maybe because you are dead quiet and not even meeting my eyes?”
San’s chuckle — which he quickly disguised as a cough — woke Jongho up, at least in a way.
“I— Sorry, it’s just… I’m still processing seeing you after all these years. I didn’t mean to come off as rude or anything of sorts, it's just… It’s been a while…”
“I know, I told San the same thing when we met a few minutes back,” you saw Jongho look at San with a death stare making you chuckle a little noticing San planned this out. “I see… well, if the others don’t mind me joining in, I don’t mind it either so—”
“Good, Jongho will show you back to the booth while I take a few of the drinks and snacks and the employee helps me bring the rest.”
The look on Jongho’s eyes was confirmation that San had planned this all out. You didn’t truly believe San when he said they were all there, that he remembered you, or that Jongho was there and would be happy to see you. San was still the same guy as before, making ways for you and Jongho to always be close to each other, and you were positive that San realized you still harbored feelings for his younger brother from the small look he send your way as Jongho lead you back to the booth that the other six were too. 
As soon as you entered, the booth exploded with voices, each of the boys coming to you and hugging you. Jongho was quick to take your food and drink away so you could hug the other six guys as he took a seat in the corner observing everything while trying to calm his racing heart. You were even more beautiful than before, how was that even possible?
Your childhood features were almost gone, but you still held that same aura you always had. Kind, loving, sweet. Your smile was still the same, your eyes squinting as you laughed at something the boys had said, the way you hugged each and everyone, the way you looked at everyone as if they were the only people in the room, but it was when your eyes met his and you gave him his smile, the smiled that was reserved only to him, was when he realized he was fucked. Royally fucked. 
He had never gotten over you.
He had never forgotten you.
And here you were again, making his heart race at your mere presence.
As soon as the door opened and San entered with one of the employees, your shy demeanor came back and Jongho’s heart almost broke. It was the same reaction you always had around San. Did your crush on his older brother remain? You acted normal with the others, and yet with San… You acted all shy and cute…
Jongho knew San always got the most attention, the most girls, the best grades, he was just that good. But you always saw Jongho, he was never in San’s shadow… Until middle school, when you started to change around San, when his brother started to give you more attention. Of course he would, you had changed, you were getting prettier, you were catching people’s attention, of course his brother would see you.
He was never afraid of losing you to San, not until that time. 
It didn’t matter if San or the others said you didn’t see any of them like that. 
Jongho knew you thought they were handsome, he heard you deny other girls trying to get to San through you, why would you deny that if you weren’t interested in his brother? 
“You still have the same face and ticks when you are thinking you know?” Your voice brought Jongho back to the reality of the situation. They weren’t in middle school anymore, they were all in university, in a karaoke booth celebrating the end of midterms. His eyes met your soft smile as you took a seat beside him. “I told San not to do any of this, but… You know your brother he—”
“Will do whatever he wants—”
“Thinks it’s right,” you cut Jongho after he cutted you. You knew the Choi brothers had a good relationship, but you also knew Jongho hated being in San's shadow and hated how San was good at everything on a first try, how he could get away with pretty much everything. “Guess he’s not right about everything, then…”
The way your voice broke was the same sound of Jongho’s heart breaking. As you started to get up, he held your wrist, firmly but gently. “Sorry, I just… It’s been so long and… I hate how he—”
“Cornered you, I know,” you chuckle softly sitting back beside Jongho, smiling even more as you finally see a smile from him towards you. “I told him not to do it, but he also said you wouldn’t come out and talk to me on your own, but that you’d be happy to see me… So far only one of the things is not adding up…”
“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just…”
“It’s been too long, yes. And we both changed and maybe we did end things a bit rushed and lost contact when I had to move to live with my father after my parents divorced, but now I’m here, I’m back in the same city as you, a lot changed, I changed, you changed… but… when I realized we were in the same city, that you two were here and going to same university I was… I kinda wished to reconnect with you again. You were my best friend, bear.”
“Hey, don’t do that! That’s a low blow and you know it!” He chuckled as you shrugged with a smirk on your lips, making his heart melt a little. You were right, everything was different and maybe he was looking too much into things, maybe his inner child was stopping him from doing everything, scared of losing you again in more ways than one. “I’m sorry, okay? Can we start again?”
“Can you get up and give me a hug?”
Without a second thought he got up from his seat, you followed quickly behind and hugged him by the neck while his arms went around your waist pulling you flushed against him as he hid his face on the crook of your neck. God he missed this. It was like his heart was mending in a way he never thought it had been broken, just by being like this with you. 
“I missed you, my little star.”
He whispered back into your ear, making you smile and kiss his temple tenderly, “I missed you, my baby bear.”
The other seven were ‘secretly’ observing everything, while opening the snacks and drinks. San had a knowing smile on his lips as he observed your and Jongho’s interaction. He knew you two liked each other, he had found out you liked his little brother while surprising you one day, catching you writing yours and Jongho’s initials on a piece of paper, he was the only one that knew your secret. While with Jongho, he caught a song lyric his baby brother had written that had the nickname he used only with you, your name written down in a corner with a small heart and a date. 
San had always tried to make you two end up together, he knew you two belong together. Like two peas in a pod. He just had to make sure the two of you realized that.
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“Why are girls so hard to figure out?” San whined as he, Jongho and Yeosang were walking in the music building.
“Are you saying that… you are having girl problems?” Yeosang laughed as he saw San roll his eyes, Jongho chimed in shaking his head. “What? She’s not giving you the attention you want?”
“She’s not fawning over you as if you were a Greek God like most girls?”
“Shut up you two!” Both boys were pushed by San, but he kept a small smile on his lips. As his eyes focused on Jongho once more, an idea formed in his mind. All the boys knew that you and Jongho had gotten considerably close, almost as close as you were when you two were younger, but there was still a barrier, that they were certain it was mostly on Jongho’s side. “You should help your brother, why don’t you ask (y/n) about it? How to catch a girl’s attention? I tried everything… I sent flowers, I sent her chocolate, I got a few things I heard she liked, and she keeps dismissing me and just thanking me and not properly talking to me…”
“Why you think (y/n) will know? Are they friends or something?”
“It would definitely help if they are… maybe you can even go on double dates,” Yeosang laughed as San looked amused by the idea while Jongho seemed to dread it. “That’s something I’d pay to see, it would be fun.”
“Say for yourself…”
“Yah! You should help your brother, not make my life difficult…”
“Because you help make my life easier?”
San nodded as if offended that Jongho would think like that. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past few weeks?” Yeosang kept quiet observing, he and the others promised San not to tell Jongho he was secretly trying to get his baby brother and you to see you belong together, and yet apparently nothing was working, specially on Jongho’s end. He would always make excuses. “You know… You should put yourself out there, I’m getting tired of your grumpy ass, I thought once you get close with (y/n) once more you’d be more yourself… Why you holding back so much?”
“San is right you know?” Yeosang chimed in as both saw Jongho rolling his eyes ready to protest San’s statement. “You two were best friends, but you barely talk to her, only when you two bump with each other, you make excuses not to see them, but when you two are together you are the happiest… What’s up with that?”
“I’m not avoiding them…”
“Keep lying to yourself,” San said, a bit annoyed that Jongho kept denying. “Crap, I have to go, promised Yunho I’d go by the choreography with him, see you guys later and Jongho… Get it together man, you missed them a lot, you finally have them back, don’t push them away from being a dick.”
“Yah! I’m not—” he didn’t have time to protest as San ran towards the dancing building, “not being a dick…”
“Yeah you are…,” Yeosang said plain and simple, making Jongho curse and look at the older friend annoyed. “Are you scared you’ll fall for them all over again?”
“...Maybe,” begrudgingly Jongho admitted, looking down to his feet as the two of them kept walking. Yeosang was his closest friend from the friend group, he could trust him, right? “They are just… It’s like nothing changed but so much has changed! And they got even prettier, it’s like torture to my heart whenever I’m with them. And then you and the others chime in and they become this shy thing that’s so adorable but also… Why are they becoming shy? You really want me to believe they don’t have a crush on any of you?”
“They don’t.” Yeosang said firmly, with such certainty that made Jongho stop and look at him a bit taken aback. “They don’t like us like that. They like us as friends, they get shy because we are not that close, because they don’t want to intrude, because they say we are your friends.”
“But with San—”
“San is a tease,” once again Yeosang cut Jongho, “he is a tease and he know how to push (y/n)’s buttons, but he just wants them to get comfortable, and for the two of you to stop being so stiffen with each other… He’s the one that knows them best after you, but they don’t like San, they never did. It doesn’t matter what you think or want to believe, they don’t like San, they never did…”
“So why do they always cut girls that come to them to get with San?”
“Wouldn’t you stop people wanting to get friendly with you to get with a friend?” Jongho thought for a second. “(y/n) is a shy and private person, they always were, they have few and close friends, and they know how San and you get annoyed by all the girls trying to get his attention, they value yours and his friendship more than anything… I know that because I saw them doing it and asked about it a few days back.”
“Okay, but—” Jongho is stopped by a ping on his phone, which he quickly picks up with a text from you. “They… texted me…”
“What do they want?”
you: hey, jjong! you on campus? if yes, which building?
jjong 🐻: yeah, i’m on campus. music building, why?
you: oh, you in class? sorry, forget it! 
jjong 🐻: no no no! you good! jjong 🐻: what do you need? i’m not in class.
you: it’s nothing important, i just forgot my water bottle in class. you: i can go search for it after i’m done at the library, i don’t wanna bother you.
“Go get their water bottle.”
“What? Why–”
“Jongho, they texted you to get a water bottle… that means they want you to get that bottle and bring it to them. Get. The. Water. Bottle.” Yeosang said quickly. “Stop overthinking, be you around them. They keep apologizing for disturbing you because you are avoiding them whenever you can. They are your best friend, get it together!”
“It’s not that simple, Yeo—”
“Because you still like them.” Jongho kept quiet, not denying it, but not confirming. “Do you want to lose them again?”
“The fuck? Of course not! I just got them back!”
“Then start acting like you actually want to be around them, because as of now you are losing them all over again, and this time will be totally your fault. Tell them you’ll get the water bottle and will bring it to the library, and start acting like their best friend. Things changed, yes, but they haven’t! Me and the guys have seen you two together, it’s like a damn time travel tunnel. So stop overthinking or you’ll lose them.”
Yeosang kept looking sternly to Jongho who sighed knowing his best friend was right.
“Sometimes I hate you.”
“Only when you know I’m right.”
Both laughed as Jongho typed back to you:
jjong 🐻: which room is it? is it that galaxy water bottle you’ve been obsessed with?
you: hey! don’t call me out for being obsessed about something! you: … but yes, it’s that one. you: class is 157 in block C of the Lit building, thank you, bear! 🤎
jjong 🐻: be there in a bit.  jjong 🐻: you at the library right? the one in the Lit building?
you: yeah, you’ll see me at the tables, i have this paper due to the end of the week.
jjong 🐻: got it, don’t worry, i’ll get your bottle. see you in a bit star 💛
A small smile formed on your lips as Jongho said he’d pick the water bottle and bring it back to you at the library, your heart racing momentarily at the thought of seeing him once more. The knowing smile on San’s lips and the other boys whenever you and Jongho were together kept popping in your mind, were you being obvious? San was the only one that knew about your crush, but now apparently all the other six knew it too… except Jongho. You didn’t know if you were grateful for it or not.
In all honesty, you thought he did considering how weird he’d act on occasion with you, even if he agreed to reconnect and being friends again, sometimes you thought he was avoiding you, so when he agreed to pick your water bottle you were more than happy, that meant he wasn’t fully avoiding you, right? The phone was put face down at the table as you shook your head trying to focus on the things you needed for your paper — that was pretty much done, luckily. 
“Hey, star,” Jongho’s voice woke you up after a while, your water bottle on his hands as a small smile appeared on his lips as he placed the bottle at the table. “Guess this belongs to you.”
"Oh, hey Jjong," You smiled softly at him, your eyes falling on your water bottle before going back to his face as you tried to keep your heart rate balanced. "Thank you for picking the bottle, I'm sorry if I troubled you, and I do owe you, you saved my day tomorrow from having to stay on the Lost & Found hoping to find it"
Jongho’s heart fluttered as he saw your smile. You were so effortlessly beautiful it was painful. Warmth spread across his chest as you thanked him, apologizing for disturbing him, making him realize Yeosang was probably right… He was being an ass and you were probably weary around him. He decided to push his worries away and act like himself around you regardless. He preferred having you smiling at him, close to him, allowing him to smell your perfume, to touch your skin, even if platonically then to lose you again. 
He never wanted to lose you.
Never again.
“No need to apologize, it was no trouble at all. I was in the Music building for a project, and the building is not that far away from the Lit one, and I could use a bit of cardio you know?” Both chuckled and he felt his chest flutter at the sound of your sweet laugh. He looked around noticing you were alone at the table as you stretched your hand to get the bottle. He pointed down to your notes, eyeing both notes and books spread around the table. “Are you… studying alone?”
You nodded, picking your water bottle. “Ah, yeah… My study partner had an emergency call in another project and bolted,” you chuckled softly before looking at your water bottle with a small pout. “Oh… maybe I should fill this up, forgot it’s pretty much empty…”
Jongho chuckled at your words glancing down at the water bottle, his gaze softening as he noticed your pout as he extended his hand grabbing the bottle back. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill it up for you.”
“You sure you don’t mind? You already had the trouble to bring it to me here… I don’t want to abuse your good will or anything,” you said genuinely worried although there was a hint of joke in your words. 
His heart skipped a bit, amused by your concern. You have always been sweet and considerate, worried about what everyone thought, wanting everyone to be comfortable, even if at your expense, which was something he noticed that never changed even after all these years. He waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head and grabbing the bottle back. “It’s not abuse, I don’t mind doing it at all. I’ll be right back.”
Jongho got to the water fountain quickly, filling the water bottle and watching the water fill it in a smooth stream. As he waited for it to fill, his mind was buzzing with thoughts. He was alone with you. You were studying alone, and he had an almost perfect opportunity to spend some more time with you. He had an almost perfect opportunity to just talk and spend time with you, like he’d been missing for such a long time. Finally, the water bottle filled, and he began to head back over to you, a little nervous but eager nonetheless.
Soon, he made it back to the table, bottle in hand, and sat down in the empty chair beside you, setting the refilled water bottle in front of you. “There you go, all refilled and good to go,” he said with a smile, hoping that you wouldn’t mind how he sat in the empty seat. A soft smile on his lips as he watched you, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment.
"Thanks Jjong, guess you still are the gentleman I knew you were," you jokingly teased him, taking a sip of the water before reorganizing a few things to give him more space to stay there.
A small chuckle left his lips at your words, finding it slightly endearing that you’d joked with him. He smiled as you moved a few things around so that he had more room. It was almost like an invitation for him to stay longer, and he was certainly not going to turn it down. His smile grew wider at the thought that maybe you wanted him to stick around as much as he did. You were never to voice your wishes, it was always subtle, like moving your things to make space for someone.
A small streak of confidence hit him, pushing a bit of the overthinking away. His back hitting the back rest of the chair as he kept observing you going over the texts and notes. “So… what are you studying? Can I stay here and make you company or will I distract you?”
Distract, for sure, you said in your mind, as you turned smiling softly at Jongho, deciding to play it off. “Why? You planning on distracting me?”
Jongho felt a bit shy, but laughed it off shaking his head a little. “Okay, fair… But why you studying here? You liked studying in your room…”
“True, but… I’m living in the dorms, and it’s always so loud there, you know me and noises don’t go well together, so here is the second best place,” you shrugged looking back at the books’ spine to pick the information you needed to put on the bibliography of your paper. 
A small nod was given by Jongho, he knew you were easily distracted and annoyed by constant noises, he could barely hold a small nostalgic smile as his mind reminded him of all the times you two studied together during school. You were so distracted by your assignment that you barely noticed him leaning his chin on his hand as he observed you. Barely, being the key word, as you turned your head to the side trying to hide your tinted pink cheeks from his intense gaze. 
A small thought reaching Jongho’s mind at that memory, making him lazily pick a pen and twist it on his fingers, trying to act casual. “Don’t you get lonely studying alone? I remember you always liked to study together… Maybe we can pick up on that once more… If you want, of course.”
Your head tilted back to look at Jongho with a small smirk. “Are you offering to have your place as my study partner back, Choi Jongho?”
A light blush crept on Jongho’s face as you looked back at him with a small smirk. He chuckled lightly, heart racing as he kept the pen twirling on his fingers, even if it faltered a little, falling back at the table making him sheepishly scratch the back of his head and pretended it wasn’t him, when a lot of people looked over to see from where the sound came from. A muffled chuckle coming out from you, making him even more shy as he pondered how to best answer you.
“I mean… If you want me, I’d be happy to keep you company… you know… like we used to do in school…”
“And where would that happen? I’ve never seen you in the library before…”
He tilted his head a little. “That’s because I prefer my room, or the music room, for acoustics and all, you know.”
“Are you staying in a dorm too, or are you sharing a house with San and the others?” 
“Oh, no, we are all at the dorms, it’s easier, a house would be too expensive…” he scratched the back of his head once more pondering a question. “So… which dorm are you in?”
“Halazia dorm, you?”
His eyes widened, you were in the Halazia dorm? “Same, I-I mean… Halazia dorm,” he chuckled as your eyes also widened along with your mouth opening, surprised. “Ah… which floor are you on?”
“Seventh, you?”
“Which room?”
“1027…”
“1035,” he said quickly, smiling at you, realizing not only you two were in the same dorm, the same floor, but your doors were across each other. “Yeosang, San and Mingi are on this floor as well… If you ever hear any of the parties, it is definitely Mingi’s room, likely.”
You laughed at the thought, feeling nervous that you were living across from each other but never actually seen each other after all the time you’ve been in uni. “Well… that explains the amount of ‘walks of shame’ I see on that floor on a daily basis. Should I expect someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ from your bedroom too?”
“Why? Will you patronize me if it ever happens?”
You pretended to ponder for a bit, trying to hide the small pang on your chest at his words. Jongho was single, good looking, smart, with the voice of an angel, polite, respectful, a gentleman… Of course he’d have girls after him and bring some to his room, you couldn’t be mad at him for it. Even if your heart broke at the thought and image in your mind. “Why would I? You are an adult, single, good looking, you can have sex with whoever you want…”
“I mean… true, but I thought… I don’t know…” He turned sheepish as a thought came to his mind. “Should I wait for someone doing the ‘walk of shame’ out of your room?”
Your eyes widened a little, blush creeping on your cheeks as you avoided Jongho’s stare. 
“I… don’t really mess around, I prefer a serious thing over one night stand, so… not on my end.”
“Good,” he said before he could hold back, making you blush even more, a small smile appearing on his lips as he noticed the reaction he had on you. “I mean… Good because you know what you want, you know? And… I’m like that too, one night stands aren’t really my thing, I prefer a connection, someone I can be comfortable with, that will see me for me and stick around, you know?”
Your eyes met his, a secret shared between both stares but apparently the message could never reach each other. Even if both could see the care and longing in the other's eyes, the main sentiment was lost in the middle. Your stomach bursted with butterflies from the way Jongho was looking at you, while his confidence grew a little as he saw his words affected you. Maybe, just maybe… you saw him as more? Should he take a leap of faith?
“I–I should put these books back, it’s getting late…,” you said, picking your phone to check the time, seeing it was already early at night. Ignoring Jongho’s eyes while trying to calm your heart rate, you got up fixing the books.
Jongho noticed your reaction, biting his lip for a moment, disappointed for losing the eye contact he had with you. As he watched you rushly pick up the books, an idea popped in his head, making him quickly stand up beside you, stepping closer, his chest almost touching your shoulder. 
“Hey let me help you, it will be faster if I help you…,” swiftly, he took the books from the table, taking it in his arms, your hands brushing slightly against each other momentarily making a shiver run down his spine, his body still inches from yours as he glanced down at the books in his arms. “So… where are these supposed to go?”
“So… these are on those three shelves beside each other, c’mon,” you quickly motioned him to follow you, being careful so he wouldn't trip or hit his shoulder on the shelves. In swift motions you quickly placed all the books, leaving only two behind as you picked them and headed to a far end shelf. “These ones are around here…” 
Jongho was always close behind you, observing and caring for every edge of the shelf that you could possibly get hurt accidentally. As the last shelf came into place, you quickly tiptoed to place one book on an upper shelf, almost losing your balance. “Here, let me.”
Your skin burned under your shirt as you felt Jongho's hand on your back, before he took the book from your hand to place it at the spot you were trying to put, but his hand never left your body, moving from your back to your waist. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time, you could feel his perfume filling your lungs, you could feel his firm but gentle hand against your skin — even through the clothes.
As he looked back at you, you came back to your reality trying to find the spot for the last book on your hand, as you moved a little to place in a lower shelf, ignoring how the fact of Jongho's hand keep lingering on your body made you feel like you were on fire. “Okay, this is the last one, we should—,” you lost your balance as you turned quickly to head back to the tables, Jongho’s hands quickly going to your waits steadying you, your hand moved to his bicep, squeezing it lightly as you felt his hands squeezing your waist back. You two were close, closer than ever in a long time. “We— ah… We should go back to the dorms, it's getting late."
Cold, that's all you felt as you pushed yourself away from Jongho heading back to the table to get your things. As he saw you moving back to the table, he woke up from his epiphany, close behind you. “Yeah, you’re right it is getting late… we should head back…” He followed you close by, watching as you walked back to the table to gather your things and not forgetting the water bottle this time around, heading to open the door for you to exit the library, as he calmed his racing heart. 
“Jongho being a gentleman? What happened? Did the talk do something to you?” You joked walking past him with a light chuckle, watching as he closed the door, walking beside you bumping you with his shoulder with a smirk on his lips.
“Hey, I’m always a gentleman with you! Always been and always will be.”
“True… Your father always made sure you and San were raised to be gentlemen… Guess all the scolding paid off, since you two have girls fawning over the both of you all over university,” you tried your best to act nonchalant as you two kept walking, your eyes focused on the ground as a memory popped up in your mind, making you smile. “Remember what your father used to say: men are supposed to be warriors for the women who are their princesses." You smiled fondly. "Your house was the only place I felt like a princess, and beside you as well when we were younger…"
At your words, memories quickly flooded his own mind, of you being in his house, always pampered and protected by his parents, and even San when it was just the three of you playing in the house. His eyes darted to you with fondness as you remembered the times you went to his house, the soft smile on your lips, the nostalgic look in your eyes. He wanted to hug you so badly right now, he wished he had cherished that first hug you two have after seeing each other. His head hangs low with a small chuckle.
“Yeah, I remember dad saying that a lot… and I guess it kinda stuck with me, especially the princess part,” he admitted, taking a few steps closer to you before speaking once more. “You were always a princess in my eyes though… and I still think you are… forever my little princess, my little star.” For a moment your mind went blank. Did he really just tell you that? In that tone? Did he not have an idea of how much that affected you? Of course he didn't, you never told him and you threatened San if he ever told Jongho you liked him. A small smirk appeared on Jongho’s lips as he saw your bashful expression. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned closer to you, in a slight teasing way. “You know, you may not believe me when I say you are my forever princess, but I can tell you are getting flustered…”
“Shut up,” you pushed him away from you, but barely had an effect, but Jongho amused you still, going a bit away from you. “It’s not that I don't believe you, I'm just not used to compliments, you know that.”
“Okay, right, sorry,” he apologized quickly, deciding to take a risk and take your hand in his, halting your movements, making you eye him curiously. A simple smile was all he gave you before getting closer to you. Both doing their best to ignore the tension between you two, the electric charge that ran through your bodies, how right it felt to have your hands intertwined again. “Can I have a hug?” 
Your gaze softened as your heart tightened in your chest. If you thought too much you knew you'd find thousands of reasons not to do it. But it was your Jongho, your Jjong, your baby bear… And you couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world. Without much thought you hugged him close, your arms around his shoulders, your lips on his shoulder as you cherished the feeling of Jongho's body against yours.
On the other hand, Jongho took a while to react, not really expecting you to hug him, but as soon as you pressed him against you, it was like muscle memory… His body relaxing in your embrace, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close to him as he buried his face against the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. Your shampoo was different, the perfume was too, but your real scent was still there, faintly mixed with the others, but his mind captured quickly. 
“I forgot how good your hugs feel…” 
“They are still yours to have,” you spoke softly against his shoulder, almost like a secret, feeling his arms tightening around your waist.
“I missed having them… I missed having you.” Jongho held you even tighter, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your body against his, of having you in his arms after all these years, it was like time stopped for a moment, as if nothing had changed, all those years didn't pass by. If he tried really hard, he could probably hear your heart beat. “Have I… have I changed too much?”
“In what sense?” You pondered quietly while still hugging him. “Everyone changes Jjong, it is part of maturing… but if you are asking if I still see you as Jongho from when we were kids… I do still see him, even if masked by this man you've become.”
Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he heard you say that you could still the old him, it meant a lot, considering how much he was pushing you away until now, until he realized he needed you close, he needed you as a best friend, he wanted you forever with him.
“I don't know… I think I was scared you think I did, considering how I've been acting, and the guys keep saying I changed through the years… I just wanted you to still like me? It's stupid I know—”
“It's not,” you cut him off, “it's not stupid, and yeah you've changed, everyone does, it's what's expected at least,” you chuckled once more cupping his face, caressing his cheeks softly. “It's not because you changed that I'll see you differently, I can see my little bear still there.” 
A smile formed on his lips, touched by your words. He knew he changed, and he was scared you wouldn't like him, the much he changed. He had grown more mature — if that was even possible —, he only let his playful side show with the people he trusted, his body changed too, he could now protect you, not that he couldn't before, but now he could do it properly. 
“I think you are one of the few people who know me for real, you know? How I can be shy and introverted, but still playful and—”
“Witty? Sarcastic? Annoying?”
“Hey!, don't pretend you don't like it when I annoy you.”
“Never said I didn't like it, I was just listing your traits, bear,” you laughed walking a bit away from him, but still holding his hand in yours. “Guess that's the childhood friend perk, right?”
Jongho chucked, nodding in agreement, squeezing your hand as he let you guide him through the streets. “Yeah… best friends from childhood perk.”
His gaze kept fixated on you, a mix of affection and contemplation as you kept walking until you saw a convenience store, reminding yourself you should get yourself a few things to eat. “Oh! Jjong, do you mind if we stop? I'm kinda hungry and also needing to buy a few things, it's gonna be quick I promise, but you can go back to the dorms too it's —”
“It's fine, we can buy something to eat, I could use a snack too, lead the way.” 
You smiled at his reassuring one as you headed to the store, letting go of his hand to push the door open and grab a basket to pick a few things. Jongho followed you close behind into the store, staying close by your side as you looked for a quick snack to grab. As you browse the store's food options, Jongho's gaze notices a few guys stealing glances at you, their eyes lingering on you for a bit too long, obviously checking you out. A hint of irritation builds on his stomach as he moves to cover you from their view, that you appear to have never even noticed.
But you did, you were used to it, you were a woman in a man's world, of course you’d be aware of your surroundings and of any guy or group of guys close by, you learned it was best to ignore them, so it came a little as a surprise when you notice Jongho gingerly move to your side, covering you from the view of that group, making your heart flutter a little, but unsure if he was aware or if you should address it, afraid you were looking too much into something that was not it. 
Jongho kept following you through the snack section, his eyes still flickering around the store, observing the guys that were checking you out. He could tell that you hadn't noticed the looks they were giving you, or were you purposefully ignoring them? Either way, he didn't like the way those guys were looking at you. It made him feel protective, and it stirred a possessiveness within him, the mere thought that those guys could approach you for any reason didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t tell you that, you just now became close again, he had no right to say anything… right? 
He stayed close to you, positioning himself slightly behind you, as if subtly shielding you from their gazes. As you continued to look for your snacks, Jongho kept an eye on the guys from afar. He could feel his annoyance growing as he watched them stare at you, their gazes almost undressing you with their eyes. He wanted to confront them, to tell them to back off and stop looking at you like that, but he held back, knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea to cause a scene here, and he knew you hated confrontation.
Instead, he took a small step closer to you, his body almost brushing against yours, as if he was subconsciously trying to claim you, to let those guys know that you were off limits, making you look at him curiously. A frown appeared on your face as you noticed his clenched jaw, how close he seemed, but still keeping a respectful distance, how he was mostly shielding you than anything else, the way he was alert to every little thing that wasn’t you. “You okay?”
Jongho quickly snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that you had noticed his closeness and his tense demeanor. He quickly relaxed his expression, forcing himself to act casually as he looked at you. "Yeah, I'm fine."
“You are lying,” you said simply observing him for a moment before grabbing a few more snacks. “Is it because of those guys?”
“Wait, you noticed them?” A simple nod was all you answered. “They have been staring at you since we entered the store, but you… kept acting normally and even came to this section… When did you notice them? Don’t their stares make you uncomfortable?”
“I noticed them when i entered this section, but I was already here, it would probably be suspicious if I moved afterwards. Plus, if I don’t acknowledge them, it’s pretty nill the chance they approach, and I’m with you…They probably think you are my boyfriend or something…”
You tried your best to act nonchalant, but you couldn’t help but wanting to see or hear Jongho’s reaction to you saying they thought he’d be your boyfriend. Would he freak out? Would he act the part? Would he keep acting naturally? Would he make sure he was just a friend? Would he try to play it off as a protective brother?
Jongho felt a pang of protectiveness hearing your nonchalant response. He didn't like the thought of you being used to men ogling you and being harassed. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to just let it happen, that they should respect you more. In a streak of courage and wanting to comfort you somehow, he took the basket with one of his hands, as the other moved to hold the one that was previously holding the basket, looking at you tenderly. "I just… I don't like seeing them look at you like that. It… it makes me feel like I need to do something…"
"Like what? Fight them? It's pointless and will probably get you in trouble… and me saying something it's useless, men like that only respect other men…,” our words were quiet as you didn’t trust your own voice as you felt Jongho’s hand on yours, deciding to focus on getting the rest of the things you wanted, realizing he had no intend on letting go of your hand.
Not that you were complaining. 
But he knew you were right. Picking a fight with those guys would only cause unnecessary trouble, and he knew that saying something wouldn't make a difference. He just hated the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you had to put up with that kind of behavior. "So what, we just do nothing? We just ignore them staring at you like you're some piece of meat?"
You wanted to laugh, but you simply smiled at him. Your heart is warm and fuzzy in your chest as you hear his words. "You already did," you commented with a small smile looking at him, chuckling when he looked at you confused. "First, you moved to cover me from their gaze, you already did something… and secondly… you are holding my hand, I’m pretty sure no one would be stupid to try anything.” You smiled at him shyly before looking away once more picking a few more random chocolates, just because. 
"Oh... you noticed that, huh?" He chuckled nervously. "I didn't even realize I did it. I guess my protective instincts just kicked in automatically," he observed you once more, how you focused on things you wanted, how you kept holding his hand even after you basically called him out from doing so. That meant you didn’t mind it, right? “Are you… okay with me doing those things?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You are my best friend… If I can’t hold your hand from time to time to feel safe, what’s the point?” Jongho was silent for a moment, you were best friends, right… Since childhood, you thought he was just being protective because of that, which was in parts true, except, best friends don’t usually have their whole body aching to touch the other person, or the fluttering in his chest, or the butterflies in his stomach, or— “I’m done, should we go, or you want something else, bear?”
 “Wha— Oh, no, I’m good, you sure you got everything you wanted?” Both your gazes fell on the half full basket, it was mostly sweets with a few salty snacks on the side. 
“I’m sure, let’s go, there’s no one in line,” you quickly smiled at him before turning and heading to the cashier. You noticed as she perked up as she noticed the two of you approaching, noticing how she looked at Jongho, and how her expression fell as she saw the intertwined hands. Was it bad that you were happy that her expression fell? Considering you and Jongho were best friends, probably you should feel bad, but you pushed that thought aside, especially as you felt his hand squeeze yours, holding it to his as you made to pull away. “I kinda need my hand to pay, you know?”
The sound of the cashier passing the items filled your ears, but it quickly turned muffled as you looked back at Jongho, finding him already staring at you with a small smile on his lips, his thumb doing a light caress on the back of your hand. “Let me treat you. Please.”
“You want to pay for my groceries?”
“Yeah,” you looked at him like he had grown two heads, making him chuckle and step closer to you. “C’mon it’s nothing major, it’s just groceries, but I wanna do something nice for you… Also because I’ve been a dick to you a while back, I wanna make it up to you.”
“Let him pay,” you opened your mouth to protest, only to have the cashier tell you with a small smile, looking between the two of you before turning to Jongho. “Paying for the groceries is not enough, if you wanna be a good boyfriend and made up for what you did wrong you have to take her on a date or not let her lift a finger for at least the same amount of days you treated her poorly, which considering what I’m seeing, wasn’t as bad as you made it sound.”
The two of you chuckled as Jongho looked between you and the cashier confused, did you two know each other?
“He didn’t do anything that badly, don’t worry, he’s safe… for now,” you jokingly say as the cashier nodded with a smile, the both of you laughing as you saw Jongho a bit startled. Your hand squeezed his lightly with a small smile, leaving the path open so he could pay. “I still think you’ve done more than enough, but I won’t complain if that gets me free snacks.”
Jongho laughed looking at you softly before shaking his head, picking his wallet from his back pocket, his hand still holding yours like his life depended on it. The look the cashier gave you as she saw Jongho pulling the card made you blush a little, as you noticed she genuinely thought you two were a couple, and Jongho had probably done something he felt bad for it. A small flutter in your chest made you look away with your cheeks burning. Why were you enjoying this so much? All of it… Jongho’s attention, his hand on yours, him protecting you, people thinking he was your boyfriend. 
“He’s a catch by the way, congrats on getting him,” she smiled at you knowingly as she handed you the groceries as Jongho put his wallet back in his pocket, swiftly moving to get the bags before you could get the heavier ones. 
“I’m the lucky one to have her, not the other way around, goodnight.”
You were a bit shocked as he simply said that and led you away from the convenience store, but you could see a small lingering smile on his lips as you two walked in silence for a bit, hands still intertwined as you two headed back to your dorm. 
“You don’t mind if she thought we were a couple?”
You finally built the courage to ask, but still couldn’t look at Jongho, but you felt his hand squeeze yours lighty.
“You didn’t look uncomfortable and… Technically you already said that those guys probably thought I was your boyfriend. I thought it wouldn’t cause any harm… Unless I made you uncomfortable, then —”
“No no!” You cut him quickly. “Sorry, no, I was actually scared it made you uncomfortable… I know how discreet you are and all…”
“I don’t mind, not when it’s you.”
Did he just say what he did?, that was what went over both your minds as you looked at each other, both a bit shy but still comfortable with each other. It was like the pieces were puzzling together, and it felt good. 
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“Oh, the baby decided to join us for once,” Wooyoung quickly says as soon as he sees Jongho entering Mingi’s room door, rolling his eyes. “What? (y/n) is too busy to give you attention?”
“It’s not like that… She’s stressed, and I know better than to get on her bad side when she’s like that, I still need my ears for class and such,” he closed the door sitting beside Yunho on one of the puffs on Mingi’s room. “What we talking about?”
“Mingi was telling about this girl he was seeing and how he took her to the arcade to, and I quote, ‘show his skills in the claw machine’...”
“But you have no skill…” Jongho quickly added looking at Mingi accusatory, making all the others laugh as Mingi just brushed it off.
“You all misunderstood, my skills with the claw, were what my lovely fingers can do, and I even got her a plushie so she can remember me and how good I am, okay? So I got my goal, you can mock me all you want, I’m getting laid while you are just fisting your hand thinking about your best friend.”
A choir of ‘ooooooh’s filled the room as Jongho just shook his head unaffected by Mingi’s words. 
“Good things come for those who wait though…,” Yeosang chimed in with a half-warning tone to Mingi, as he exchanged a hi5 with Jongho.
“But Mingi did say something interesting—”
“Hey I always say something interesting, what you saying?”
San sighed ignoring Mingi, keeping his focus on Jongho. “You said (y/n) is stressed, didn’t you two were always at the arcade? What if you take them there? They can relieve stress, you two can get cozy—”
“They can see your skilled fingers…”
“MINGI!”
“What? IT WORKS OKAY?!”
“Anyways, I think it could work, it was something you two did constantly in middle school… just a thought baby brother.”
San raised his eyebrows to Jongho as he laid back resting his back on the wall behind him, with a small smirk to Jongho, who brushed it off, but already planning how to bring that subject with you, knowing it was definitely something that you liked and would help you relax, even if a little.
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“C’mon star, just one!”
“Bear no! These things are a scam and you know it!” It didn’t matter your protests, Jongho still took your hand, leading you to the claw machines, his gummy smile was all it took for you to accept as he picked a coin putting you in front of it. “You are wasting your money, you know that right?”
“Money spent with you is never wasted, you know that, now go, pick a plushie,” your eyes wander through the machine trying to find an easy pick, setting your eyes in a bear plushie.
“That one, because it looks like you,” your smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “don’t give me that! You asked me to choose! I did, don’t give me that eye roll, you ass!”
“Right, right, my fault, you were only doing what I told you, true,” his gummy smile was back and you smiled back excitedly, even if you were certain you'd lose. “Okay, let’s go, I’ll put the coin, take your time!”
As soon as the coin entered, the machine lit it up, you quickly but steady — attempt of steady — moved the claw to where the bear plushie was, trying your best to place the claw on the right place to win the plushie. Surprise none as you got nothing, making you pout while Jongho laughed at your reaction. 
“I told you it was a waste of money…”
“C’mon once more, just one, if you don’t get we can go get something else, hm?”
You pondered looking between Jongho and the machine, the small smile on his lips already knowing the answer as you nodded, getting ready to get the plushie once more, trying to trace the best approach to get it. 
“You are an enabler of my bad behaviors.”
“I’m a believer in your abilities, it's different, now c’mon you’ll still be amazing if you don’t get that plushie,” his fingers quickly put the coin on the machine who lit up as you calmed down trying to get the plushie once more. As the claw grabbed part of the plushie, lifting, Jongho laughed wholeheartedly as you started to celebrate, only for your pout to get bigger as it fell just before reaching the deposit area. His arms quickly circled you, kissing your head in a comforting manner. “You did great, star, almost got the plushie!”
“But I wanted the plushie,” you kept pouting as you leaned on Jongho. “You try it! I already did the hard part, you can have two tries too, that’s fair, no?”
“You really want that plushie don’t you…?” You nodded with a small pout that turned into a smile as Jongho sighed. “Okay, two tries, but don’t expect much, okay?”
“If you don’t get me that plushie you’ll buy me a huge one,” he looked at you in disbelief. “A bit of playful threats is not bad, just a bit of pressure, you can handle it.” You laughed as he shook his head putting the coin on the machine, getting ready for his first try. Attentive eyes on the plushie and the claw, with a groan from Jongho and a small satisfied chuckle from you as he missed. “Not as easy, is it?”
“Oh, so this is payback? And here I was, being a good friend and getting my favorite person their plushie,” he pushed another coin in, not noticing how your eyes kept staring at him. You were his favorite person? Not favorite friend, but favorite person. That had to mean something right? Or were you just overthinking the way you two have been lately? Getting in too deep in how good you felt whenever you were with Jongho? What if— “YES! SUCK IT MACHINE!”
“You— you got the plushie…” your voice was barely a whisper as you saw the bear plushie coming out of the machine in Jongho’s hand as he handed it to you. 
“Of course I did, I’d always get you a bear plushie, but you wanted this one, so I did my best to get it… so here,” he handed you the plushie as you took it in your hand, bringing it close to you in your arms as you looked at him a bit disbelief. “If we ever have to be apart again, even for a bit, and you miss me… Just hug the plushie and imagine it’s me, okay?”
Your mouth formed a thin line as you nodded, moving to hug Jongho, the bear plushie between your bodies as he giggled at your reaction, but his arms enveloped you still, as you two remained like that for a moment, before you moved away, with a smile to Jongho as you recovered a little from him winning you the plushie and the feelings you were trying to fight.
“It needs a name though… and since it reminds me of you and you said I should hug it if I miss you… How about Jjongbear?”
“You are a Literature Major, shouldn’t you be more creative with names?” He teased, his gummy smile returning as you looked at him annoyed. ��Sorry, I had to… But sure, it’s yours, you can name it however you want, star.”
“How am I still friends with you? The boys are right, you and Yeosang are the true savages of the group,” you shook your head faking being upset as you took the bear and lifted it to look at you. “Your father may not appreciate you, but I do, Jjongbear!”
“Father? What are you talking about?”
“Already trying to bolt on parenting, tsk tsk tsk, your father would be disappointed,” you turned around to keep walking through the arcade.
“Yah! What do you mean father? I’m not fathering a plushie with my name in it!”
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“You sure it’s okay I tag along, Jjong?”
It was a rhetorical question, technically it would be very hard to bolt now that you were in the car with Jongho heading to Yunho’s cabin in the mountains for the weekend. 
“(y/n), me and the guys said it’s okay, should I play their audio telling me to bring you along again?” He chuckled at your nervousness, reaching for your hand on your thigh, squeezing your hand lightly as kept it there on your thigh. “Plus, it’s been a whole ass semester, you are part of the gang once more, you are even calling the boys out on their bullshit, we all like having you around, and I want you to come with, and enjoy it with us the end of finals.”
“I just sometimes feels like I’m barging in or something… I know we all know each other for ages, but I’m your best friend, and I’m a girl, and I feel like sometimes the guys hold back and—”
“Oh, no, they don’t hold back, they try to be respectful because otherwise I’ll beat their ass, and San, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa also said they’d help, so you have three of the strongest guys on your side, but trust me, they are not holding back… Maybe Mingi is, but I doubt he will once we get there… When he drinks… well… you’ll see.”
You laughed at his words, looking at the highway before looking at your intertwined hands, the light caress of Jongho’s thumb on your hand a comfort reminder of his presence and care. “And where am I sleeping?”
“Oh, Yunho said his parents demanded you’d be in their room, saying that ‘you are not putting them to sleep with you boys, they can sleep in our bedroom, you eight are really loud when you want!’, so… you are the only one with an individual room.”
“Well… they aren’t wrong, the eight of you do get really loud, especially when drinking… God I don’t think I can forget when I went to Wooyoung’s room that one night and San was on the floor singing his lungs out, Wooyoung and Seonghwa were leaning on each other, Mingi and Hongjoong passed out in the corner Yeosang being the cutest and taking care of everyone along with you and Yunho, that were curiously the only ones standing… I still have questions, but I’m dreading the answers.”
Both of you laughed loudly at the memory of that day, his hand squeezed yours unconsciously as he focused back on the road. Suddenly, the rest of the trip to the cabin was about memory sharing, both from when you were kids and now in uni. Both feeling a sense of ease as the whole development of the situations happened, and again the feeling returned. 
The feeling of puzzles fitting together.
That everything was falling into its rightful place. 
That this was right.
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“Yah! (y/n), help us out, I’m done being single, I want someone to hold and pamper…”
“Mingi, you are single because you are a manwhore,” he was gonna start to protest, but you beat him to it, “and no, you are not the only manwhore in this group, fear not.”
“Now you done it,” Jongho whispered to you as the guys started to protest, making you laugh loudly throwing your head back on the couch as Jongho took your empty shot glass to fill it once more for each of you. “Hey, they are not wrong! How many people have you guys slept with only this last semester?”
“For the record, I have my eyes on someone, she is the one that doesn’t want anything with me…,” San was quick to say with a pout.
“Of course she doesn’t, she has a girlfriend San, she doesn’t like dick!”
Your words silenced everyone, as everyone looked at San and you with shocked expressions. 
“I don’t mind third wheeling, if that’s the case…”
Everyone burst into laughter at San’s response, everyone taking their shot of soju, Jongho had just poured for everyone. Quickly starting a new conversation as you put your glass back, deciding it was it for you. You never liked drinking, and you had a feeling you kept going you might do something that will ruin things.
“You okay?” Like kissing the man that just whispered in your ear as you felt his arms going over your shoulder, almost cradling you. Your head quickly resting on his shoulder as the tiredness of the past few sleepless nights, stress of the tests and muscle ache from the trip started to hit you. “You wanna head upstairs and sleep?”
“Yah! This is low! I just said I hate being single and you two keep acting like a couple, just date already!” You froze for a moment at Mingi’s words, you noticed how Jongho also froze, but still didn’t move away from you.
“Mingi is right, it’s pretty obvious you two like each other, why don’t you just date?”
“Yunho, we’ve been friends since forever, of course we’d be more comfortable—”
“You two like each other, just admit it already!”
“San is done playing cupid,” the boys all laughed at Wooyoung’s comment that followed San’s grumpy statement. “I mean, it would be easier if there were arrows to make you two realize you like each other, that’s true…”
“And don’t try to deny it, the heart eyes are there, especially when you two think the other isn’t looking,” Hongjoong was quick to say, followed by Yeosang.
“Nah, they are doing it to each other now, they can’t help it anymore.”
“I—I need to pee…” You quickly left the living room, heading to your assigned room, not noticing how everyone looked confused, except for Jongho and Yeosang who were upset and annoyed, respectively.
“You guys had to? Truly?”
“What? Yeo you know they wouldn’t admit it—”
“What if you guys are looking too into it, Wooyoung? What if this ends the friendship I literally just got it back?”
“We are not looking too into it,” San said sternly looking at Jongho who looked at his older brother scoffing. “You wrote a song to them, and keep writing songs about them. And they used to write your names and initials on any paper they could, now they just keeps close if you need them, because they became smarter after I caught them doing that all those years back. So no, they never had a crush on me, it was always you.” 
“How you know I wrote a song to them?”
“That’s what you are focusing on? C’mon Jjong! You left your song notebook open one time when I went to your room to get something and I saw it, and you are not as subtle as you think when writing songs.”
“San is right, you are pretty obvious…”
“And they are pretty oblivious.”
Hongjoong and Seonghwa chimed in again, taking another sip of their beer as all of them observed Jongho.
“And if you pay attention, the two of you already act like a couple, so why are you two so scared of acting on it? Everyone already thinks you two are dating… you should talk to them, after setting your head straight, but don’t take too long, the night is young but it’s from GenZ with bills to pay.”
The boys all kept quiet observing Jongho, who quietly got up taking a closed can of beer and took it outside, closing the door behind him as he went to sit on one of the rocks from a small path you and him had explored earlier when you two arrived before hitting the pool with the others. And it pained him to admit the others were right. You were acting like a couple. He cared for you like a boyfriend, his touch was thoughtful but possessive, he was protective, he hated seeing any guy try to hit on you or touching you too much, he hated when you said someone was attractive, or when you commented on something the guys were saying with hidden innuendos that you experienced something like that or similar before, making him question with whom. 
You held hands whenever you could. You hugged all the time for any reason. You were always close together if any of you needed the other. You two were practically living in each other's rooms if you are not in the library studying. Everyone already knew you two were a package deal. Where one went, the other would too. He knew his feelings for you were not platonic or friendly, they were romantic, hell he even had a wet dream about you more than once! But he wasn’t certain from your part. You pushed him to girls you thought he’d think are attractive, you’d indulge into flirting with other guys, even if you always returned to him, making him send those exact guys death stares that made them all run and hide. Were you playing him? Or were in denial like he was, but doing it differently? Pushing him away along with the romantic feelings?
He sighted looking up in the sky. He always loved to come into the mountains, the sky was always clear, so he could easily see the stars that always reminded him of you, back when you two were friends, when you grew apart and now that you reconnected. The starry sky was always his companion to think of you when he couldn’t be with you for whichever reason. He heard the sound of a door, looking towards the cabin, but no one was there, so you looked up, finding you in the balcony, fidgeting your fingers. You were nervous. Was it for the same reasons he was? Because you were seeing that you liked each other and were in denial, or was it because you realized you were acting like a couple when you only saw him as a friend?
His eyes kept darting to the night starry sky back to you, his only star, his northern star, the only direction his heart pointed at since forever. He doesn’t know how long he stood there, but it was enough for his bear to run warm in his hands and the wind blow cold against his skin. He had watched you for long enough to realize he couldn’t pretend anymore, he wanted you, not just as a friend, he wanted you as a partner, a life partner. 
If you didn’t want that, it was okay. He wanted you in his life, it didn't matter how. 
As he rushed to the house, he left his beer on the counter, ignoring the guys’ questions as he headed upstairs towards your room, knocking it loud enough so you could hear even if you were still on the balcony. It took what seemed like forever for footsteps to be heard and you opened the door, widening your eyes and holding back from closing it again as you looked down your feet.
“Hey, sorry, can you tell the guys I’m not coming down? That I’m ready for bed, or something?”
“Can we talk first?”
Your silence and avoidance of eye contact was enough to tell him you knew what this was about and it was unsure if you wanted to.
“Is this about what the guys said?”
He nodded quietly. “I think… It’s something we need to talk about, if it’s… so obvious to everyone but us… no?”
You knew he was right, and he knew you knew. It was just a matter of you wanting to face this now or later. After a few seconds, you took a step back, letting him inside your assigned room, closing the door as he passed, unsure of how to behave. Jongho simply extended his hand for you to take it, hoping the silent request would be accepted by you. 
A small smile formed as you took his hand, letting him guide you to the balcony, the two of you leaning against the fence, his hand still holding your, the light tender caress continuing soothing your fears and nerves without him even knowing. 
“Is there a reason we are on the balcony?” 
Your voice was quiet, scared even to break the silence and eventually the bubble to make the subject of you two come to light. Instead of looking at you, Jongho looked at the sky with a smile. 
“Starry nights remind me of you,” he said simply before looking back at you, your eyes were slightly scared, scared of what he may say, scared of what you two would become after this talk. “Even when we lost touch, I loved to go to places where I could see the stars, because it helped me think of you.”
“Jongho, what—”
“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” at your eyes widening, he let out a wholeheartedly chuckle, taking your hand on both of his hands, before continuing. “I never said anything because we were young and idiots, and for some reason I was so sure you had a crush on San, that made me livid whenever he spent time with us and I saw you get all why and blushing and—”
“Because he knew I liked you,” he stopped talking the second you cut him off. So San was telling the truth, which meant that… you probably still liked him too? “He…” You started looking away from Jongho embarrassed of the childish memory. “He caught me one day writing your name with hearts, or both our names close to each other… I usually did that when I had a lot on my mind, thinking of you calmed me…”
“So… you were shy and flustered with San… because he knew you liked me back then?”
“And he caught on fast that I… still like you now.”
The last part came out as a hushed tone. Both your heads were spiraling as your hearts were racing. You two liked each other back then, and still do now… that meant…
“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out, making you chuckle, being followed by him, with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, sorry, I just… Is this as surreal to you as it is to me?”
You turned to him, biting your lip with a small nod. “I’m still stuck on the ‘I liked you since we were kids’ parts,” you laughed wholeheartedly as Jongho smiled, taking a step closer to you, testing the waters, testing if this was truly what you wanted, making you freeze for a moment. Your eyes almost automatically go to his lips before reaching his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, bear.”
“And neither do I, star… but… will you allow us to try… be more than we are now?”
At your silence and lingering gaze on his face, he tested reaching to you once more, which wasn’t badly received, especially as he felt your free hand on his arm, a silent invitation for him to continue. “Just don’t break my heart again.”
“I never intended on doing that, and I don’t plan on ever hurting you ever again,” he whispered as he leaned close, so close that you could feel each other's breaths against your faces. “I’ll ask again, and I’d like a direct answer… Can I, finally, feel your lips against mine?”
“Yes, please.”
Without a second to think, Jongho leaned in, his lips meeting yours hungrily but… tenderly? You could feel how much he wanted to savor you, but he also wanted to devour you. As his tongue asked for entrance, your hands moved to his shoulder and up his hair messing it up as you allowed him entrance, his hands quickly finding your waist and hip pulling your body close to him. It was like you were in purgatory, the delicious heaven of having his lips on your, but the burning sensation of wanting more. You gasped as you felt his cool finger trace the hem of your shirt, touching the warm skin underneath.
“Sorry, sorry, I just—”
“Bed, now,” you said against his lips pulling him back inside, his hand quickly moving to close the door that led to the balcony, your lips crashing once more. It was you were addicted, addicted to his lips, to his hands on you, to how every touch seemed to burn your skin in the most delicious way. His hands were strong, but cautious, touching just the right places to drive you insane as his lips met yours in a contained hunger.
“(y/n), I don’t want to push you—”
“Shut up,” you said against his lips once more, pushing him back to the bed, as soon a he fell on the bed, his hands were on your hip, playing with the hem of the shirt, tracing lazy burning patterns on your skin. “We are not making a mistake, are we?”
“No, this is not a mistake, unless you don’t want to…”
His tender and understandable eyes made you melt. How even in a situation like this, Jongho could still be the most respectful and caring guy you could ever meet, even when you could feel how much he wanted you, in the way he kissed you, touched you, how he devoured you with his eyes, but still keeping them with a hint of tenderness? How were you lucky to have a man like this fall for you?
“I want you Jongho, but I want all of you,” you moved to stand between his legs, your hands on his hair pushing it away from his face, who looked at you with such care and hunger that was mimic in his actions, on how his hands traveled your body, possessively but like committing every curve, every stretch, every gap to memory. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming…”
“You are not dreaming star,” his smile was almost calming to you, as you let a sigh of relief closing your eyes, gasping as you felt his lips on the exposed part of your shirt his fingers were playing with, a mischievous but cautious smile appeared on his lips, as his face hovered against your stomach. “Is this okay? I’m sorry, I just want you too, all of you… if you have me.”
Instead of answering with words, you moved to straddle Jongho, keeping eye contact as it felt like you were dreaming still. Dreaming his lips had been on yours, that his hands were touching your skin under your shirt, that his lips touched the skin of your stomach, that he was underneath you, looking at you with the mix of lust and love. As your weight settled on top of Jongho, he closed his eyes, controlling his reaction. 
There was so much he wanted to do to you, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable, he was waiting for you cue, to anything that could tell what you wanted, he’d give you anything and everything. He was yours and you were his, and he was gonna make sure you felt loved with every piece of your body and soul. 
You leaned forward once more, your lips touching his, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you on his lap, gasping against the kiss as you felt his half-hard cock underneath you. His lips moved to your jawline as you moved your hips against his bulge, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh as your nails sank on his shoulder, one of your hands moved to his hair once more. Your movements become less precise as you feel his lips and tongue on your neck. 
Tiny murmurs of ‘is this okay?’, ‘so perfect’, so pretty’, ‘been dreaming of this for so long’, along with your own gasps and silent moans as you kept your movements, feeling his getting harder underneath you as he worshiped your neck, his hands moving from your hip, to waist, to back and all over again, until he stopped your hips, taking his head away from your neck. Hooded eyes, swollen lips, you held back from kissing him, as you moved your hips instinctively having him groan and close his eyes with a small ‘fuck’ coming out of his mouth.
“(y/n), I’m controlling myself pretty well, and I’m pretty good at that, but I won’t be able to control much with you moving like that on top of me, with a bed right here with us… I don’t want to push you into—”
“What if I want to?” His eyes shot up, searching for any type of deception on your eyes, or hints that it wasn’t truly what you wanted. “We are not children anymore Jongho, we are not freshly teenagers. I know what I want, and I want you.”
“Fuck, don’t say things like that….”
“Why? You don’t think I know what I want?” You said cheekily, testing the waters as your finger traced his jaw and lips. “I want you to make me yours for real Jongho, because I’ve been yours for longer than I’d like to admit.”
“I’ve been yours since the first time we met, even when we were kids, I was yours, you were always it for me. You were always the person I compared to others, and God I searched for you everywhere when I lost you… And I’m scared that if I give in this easily you’ll vanish… I still can’t believe I have you back, I can’t believe I have you like this.”
You smiled genuinely leaning in and kissing Jongho, this time was calmer, full of passion but no desire but to show love for each other. You pushed your body forward, making Jongho fall on his back as you kept kissing him. “I’m yours Jongho, always been, always will be.”
In a swift movement Jongho moved you so he was on top, your legs quickly wrapping around his hips, your hands on his arms, one of his hands cupping your face, caressing your cheek. “Are you sure? Because I swear, you are making it impossible to—”
“I’m sure, please, Jjong.”
“Okay,” he said after a while with a small smirk on his lips as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “but we are doing my way, star.”
Before you could say anything, his lips found the spot under your ear, kissing it tenderly as his hands started to wander your body just lie before, committing every part to memory, like you are a marble, a painting, a book he wanted to undercover all its secrets. You gasped as his hands moved your shirt up, exposing until under your breasts, while his lips tasted every part of your neck and chest, he moved from the valley of your breasts to your midriff, keeping with the tender small lingering kisses on your skin, worshiping every little part you had of your body. 
While one of his hands kept your shirt up, the other swiftly pulled your sweats down a little so he slid his hand to your pants, pads of his fingers tracing slow eight figures on your clit over your panties, making you gasp. Instinctively your hands went to his hair, while the other held his arm that held your shirt over, moving it to expose your bra, which we quickly pushed to the side, mouth involving your breasts as his movements on your clit grew faster, making you squirm under him.
“Jongho, pl–please…”
“Your wish is my command, my love.”
His mouth met your neck once more, as his fingers pulled your panties to the side, his middle finger teasing your entrance. As you were about to complain, his index and middle fingers entered you, skillfully curling inside of you before leaving, only to enter again. You could go insane just by what he was doing. As your moans grew louder, he moved his mouth to yours, muffling your sounds as his fingers sped up, his thumb pressing your clit as his fingers curled inside of you. 
“Quiet (y/n), we don’t want the guys to come and take a peak.”
“Sorry, just— argh! So good, so so good, Jjong, God!”
His laugh against your neck made you shiver as he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine as your orgasm was denied, but before you protested, Jongho brought his fingers soaked on your juice to his lips, before smirking at you. “Can’t wait to taste you properly, clothes off, lay on the bed, head on the pillows and try to keep it down, I don’t want anyone interrupting us, or seeing how good I’ll make you feel, okay?”
“I like this side of you…”
He smirked as you two started to take your clothes off. “Good, because you’ll see more and more of it from now on.”
As you lay down on the bed, completely naked, you took a moment to appreciate Jongho’s naked form the same way he was doing to you. His toned muscles, his tanned skin, the hidden parts that only you were able to see, because he was yours and no one else’s. He slowly moved back to the bed positioning himself in front of your legs, his hard cock leaking as his hands touched your knees, gently spreading your legs, revealing your soaking cunt, a bit red from the mess his fingers did to you. 
Instead of digging for it, he teased you. His lips trailing kisses over your legs from your shoulder to the junction of your thigh and hip, repeating on the other side, before making himself comfortable on the bed, holding your thighs as he started to leave tender kisses on your labia, making you jolt your lips as they touched your sensitive clit, your hands going to his hair, as he started to lick your clit, leaving small kisses, before starting to make out with your cunt. The way you could feel his lips and tongue everywhere was driving you to the edge. 
He was eating you like no one ever had.
No, he wasn’t eating you out, he was making out with your cunt. 
Like he had all the time in the world. 
Because he had, he had all the time in the world to make you feel good. 
And God you tried your best to keep it down. 
Quiet, hushed moans, with few exceptions that made Jongho chuckle against your core, making your whole body reverberate with it. 
Your legs probably shook three times before he finally stopped kissing your cunt, the way your whole body was like pudding at that moment was insane, and yet, you wanted more. You wanted him inside. 
“Jongho, please, I need you inside…”
“Are you sure you can take it, (y/n)? I have a feeling I spent you too much already,” he hovered above you with a cocky smile as he pushed your hairs away from your face, caressing it tenderly, his eyes were sweet, cautiously, slightly worried if he was pushing your body’s limit already.
“I’m sure,” you nodded as your voice sounded breathlessly. It was true, you were spent, but in the best way possible, and your body ached for him. “I’m sure, Jjong, I can take it, please.”
“I don’t have a condom…”
“You can pull out, I’m on the pill, as long as you are clean, we are good.”
He couldn’t help but find your eagerness endearing. 
“I’ll be gentle, promise.”
And he was. 
His hands gently moved you around the way that would be the most comfortable for you, gently spreading your legs wider as he positioned his cock at your entrance. Looking at you once more to confirm, you nodded back. Jongho positioned himself before leaning into you, lips meeting in a gentle, sweet kiss as his cock slowly entered your hole. Your lips parted as you felt him fill you up, allowing Jongho to kiss your face and neck, as his hands wandered your body in a worshiping manner. 
As he finally entered you full, he gave you time to adjust, moving slowly, not fully pulling out, his hips moving slowly as one of his hands kept his weight out of you, the other exploring every part of your body, cupping your face, making you look at him, as his pace increased, observing every reaction you had so he could make sure not to push you too much, but just enough to make you feel good. 
His lips once more found yours as you both started to get more and more needy for each other, his movements getting faster, precise, as your nails scratched his back, your legs wrapped around his hips for a moment, making you almost scream for how good it felt. Your nails digging on his flesh made him groan as his movements became sloppier, allowing you to move to kiss his jawline and neck, hearing him curse speeding his movements. His head hid on the crook of your neck as he held you close. Your body was already easily shaking, but he tried his best to control your release while trying to reach his. 
You clenched around him more and more, moaning against his ear, ‘that’s it’, ‘fuck so good’, ‘don’t stop’, ‘fuck you are so tight’, a mix of words between you and Jongho as you hid your screamed moan on his shoulder finally hitting your high, he slowed down riding out your high, before detaching himself from you, pulling out and fisting his hand. The sight of your fucked out face, almost making him cum in sight, a few stroke after his cum was over your torso as both of you were spent in bed. 
“Stay put, I’ll be right back,” he said breathlessly to you, heading to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel, wetting half to clean you up. As he was sure you were clean, minding the sore spots, he tossed the towel to the sink, as he moved to lay beside you. “You okay? Not too sore?”
“I’m fine, you were perfect,” you said leaning in kissing his lips, his hand finding your hip, pulling you closer to him as his other hand served as base for your head to rest. You quickly pulled the covers over the two of you, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, caressing the skin of your arm feather-like, your legs tangling. Your free hand draws lazy patterns on his chest, before his free hand envelops yours bringing to his lips.
A small tender kiss on your knuckles. 
“I love you, (y/n).”
“I love you, Jongho.”
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puckinghischier · 2 days ago
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Quinn 1000% percent is the type of boyfriend who quietly takes care of you. He may not be flashy with his gestures but they’re always endearing.
i will live and die by the fact that man is the most intense but gentle lover there ever is.
it’s like, day by day his love is quiet and reserved, but looking back over the course of your relationship, you realize just how intense his love really is. because of course he’s vocal about the fact he loves you, never leaving it unsaid anytime you two part, even if just for a few minutes.
but really, it’s all the things he does you don’t even know about. it’s the days you come home and forget there was a pile of laundry you told yourself you needed to do, because it’s done already.
it’s the moments when you talk about needing to go to the store to replace your favorite coffee creamer, but groggily opening the fridge the next morning to a fresh bottle, not even registering the added weight in your hands.
it’s never running out of your favorite skincare products, somehow always having an endless supply. always having your favorite snack on hand. always having a full tank of gas. always having a soft blanket on your side of the couch.
day to day, these things don’t even cross your mind. your routine is so…routine, that you never wonder why all of these thing are. they just are.
until you see quinn come home after practice with a few bags in hand, one branded exactly the same as your favorite nighttime serum. or a grocery bag with a familiar looking carton poking through the frosted plastic.
you don’t question it until you walk out of the bathroom after a shower to him sitting a full cup of water on your night stand, that way you can crawl right into bed. not until you step into the living room to see him folding your favorite blanket, freshly washed, and tossing it over the back of the couch where you always sit.
your suspicion isn’t there until you get back from a walk to see your car gone, but quinn’s still in its parking spot.
you never wonder why your favorite flowers on the kitchen table never wilt until you see the branded brown paper from the local florist in the trash can.
the point is, you never think about it because you don’t have to. quinn does everything he can to show he cares about you, he loves you, he sees you. and he does it quietly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
so yeah, day to day he might be quiet, focused on hockey and his team, watching footage of old games and opposing teams while you’re reading next to him on the couch, but he’s never quiet with his love for you. not really.
when you look back on all he does for you, with no complaint or mention of it at all, it’s almost suffocating. it’s suffocating in the best way, to know how intensely he pays attention to you and how effortlessly he shows you, without you even knowing.
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cherryxbooo · 2 days ago
Text
Nothing lasts forever
Summary: Being a dedicated McLaren engineer with a cold demeanor means one thing: judgment. Trusting and opening up to a certain driver leads to a bigger mistake.
Reader x Oscar Piastri
Genre: Angst
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I had always dreamed of working for McLaren.
The team’s history, the legacy, the championships, everything about it had captivated me since I was a kid.
I’d spent years idolizing the drivers, the engineers, the people who made it all happen.
And then, there I was.
Standing in the paddock, a part of the machine I had once only watched from the sidelines.
The air felt thick with history, with success, with the roar of engines and the buzz of anticipation.
It was everything I had ever wanted.
But, as much as I tried to convince myself it was everything I had dreamed of, there was something that gnawed at me.
There was an ache deep in my chest that no amount of triumph could soothe.
I had arrived, but the reality? The reality was a constant weight on my shoulders that I wasn’t prepared for.
I’d imagined walking into the garage, feeling the excitement of the team, and being welcomed as one of their own.
But instead, there were whispers.
Quiet, cutting whispers that followed me like a shadow.
I could feel the eyes on my back, the scrutiny, the judgment.
It didn’t matter how many hours I put in, how many sacrifices I made.
The rumors about me spread faster than the engine roar on the track.
I wasn’t the “right” kind of person.
Too focused, too ambitious, too cold.
Too much of everything that didn’t fit their ideal.
And it stung.
Every word. Every glance. Every offhand comment.
I tried to tell myself to ignore it. That they were wrong, that I had a place here because I earned it.
But each passing day, each race weekend, it felt harder to believe that.
The weight of their expectations, their judgments, it was like suffocating under a blanket of misunderstanding.
The worst part was when the comments came from the people I thought I could trust.
From the people I worked alongside. The people I shared ideas with.
How many times had I stayed late, just to make sure everything was perfect? Just to be sure I was giving it my all?
And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.
The world outside the track didn’t care about my dedication.
They cared about who I was, who they thought I was, and who I wasn’t.
It felt like every tiny detail of my life was scrutinized, dissected, and criticized.
So, I built walls.
Higher and higher, until they were towering around me. I kept my head down, kept my focus laser-sharp, kept to myself.
No one was going to see the cracks forming inside.
No one would ever know how often I lay awake at night, replaying everything, questioning my worth, wondering if all those whispers were true.
Was I too cold? Too intense? Too much of something that no one could accept?
Could they see me as I truly was, or was I just a puzzle piece that didn’t fit the picture they had in mind?
Then came Oscar.
The new guy, the fresh-faced rookie with that infectious energy.
He had that spark of hope, that belief in things I had lost along the way. He didn’t see the walls I built.
He didn’t seem to care about the rumors. To him, I was just another teammate. Another person to work with.
He didn’t judge me for how I carried myself, didn’t dismiss me for my focus. Instead, he laughed with me.
He challenged me in the best ways, without making me feel like an outsider.
For a while, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was someone who didn’t see me through that lens of judgment.
Someone who saw me.
Oscar didn’t care about my reputation or the harsh words spoken behind my back.
He saw the work, the effort. And for the first time in a long time, I felt... like I mattered.
We started talking more.
Late-night debriefs, sitting alone after everyone else had gone to bed, dissecting the race, talking about what went wrong and what we could have done better.
I listened to him, really listened.
He told me about his journey to Formula 1, about his struggles to prove himself, about his dreams.
And in turn, I opened up. I shared my frustrations. My doubts. I talked about the battles I fought every day just to be here, just to be seen.
I never expected him to understand, but he did.
He didn’t judge.
He listened.
One night, after a particularly brutal race weekend, we found ourselves alone in the garage.
The others had already left for their rooms, and the garage was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the equipment.
I was staring at the car, my mind a whirlwind of calculations and what-ifs.
Oscar walked up to me, leaning against the tool chest, arms crossed, his usual easy smile softened.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.
I didn’t turn to him immediately.
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“I just... I just can’t stop thinking about what went wrong. There were so many little things that could’ve been fixed. If I had just—”
“Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not harsh.
“You’re one of the best at what you do. Don’t let one bad weekend define you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Easier said than done, right?”
He chuckled softly, pushing himself off the tool chest and walking closer to me.
“I get it. But you can’t carry that weight on your own. You’ve got a team here. Me included.”
The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected.
I finally looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw not just the rookie but someone who genuinely cared.
Someone who wanted to help. It was almost too much to take in.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he added quietly, almost as if he was afraid of scaring me away.
I swallowed hard, feeling something stir inside me, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.
Hope.
I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “I... I know. It’s just hard.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening.
“But you don’t have to have all the answers, all the time. Sometimes, it’s okay to lean on others.”
His voice lowered.
“Especially if that means leaning on me.”
I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, a sensation I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in so long.
Maybe it was okay to let someone in.
Maybe Oscar was the one person who could help me see things differently.
The next few days were full of more small moments that made my walls tremble.
We found ourselves in those quiet spaces between races, just talking.
I’d laugh at his dry humor, and he’d listen as I explained things I thought only made sense in my head.
He didn’t rush me. He didn’t expect anything from me except honesty.
One evening, as we sat on the pit wall, watching the sunset after another long practice session, he nudged me gently with his shoulder.
“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the ice queen,” he said with a teasing grin,
“you’re actually kind of fun to hang out with.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
“I’m not that bad, am I?”
He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think it over.
“Maybe just a little. But that’s what makes it fun.” He nudged me again, this time making me laugh out loud.
It was a soft, genuine moment.
And for the first time, I allowed myself to feel it, really feel it.
The connection we were building was something I didn’t expect, something that was slowly chipping away at the walls I had so carefully crafted.
Oscar was breaking through, piece by piece. And it scared me. But in the best way possible.
But nothing lasts forever right?
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The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting long, amber-hued shadows over the paddock.
The air was still cool, with a slight breeze stirring the flags and team banners fluttering gently in the wind.
The hum of the pit lane was just starting to pick up as teams were making their final preparations for the day’s race.
Oscar and Lando stood by the car, both immersed in the quiet but urgent task of fine-tuning the machine that would carry them into the competition.
Oscar, his focus unwavering, leaned over the rear wing, adjusting a setting on the aerodynamics.
His fingers moved with practiced precision, checking measurements, recalibrating.
He didn’t take his eyes off the components as he made the final tweaks.
The team relied on him to deliver his best performance, and he wouldn’t let them down.
Lando, on the other hand, leaned casually against the car, arms crossed, watching Oscar work.
There was an easy-going air about him, a stark contrast to the intensity radiating from Oscar.
Lando's eyes followed his teammate’s every move with a small, amused smile on his lips.
It wasn’t that Lando wasn’t focused; it was just that he had a different way of working, more laid back, like everything was under control even if it wasn’t.
After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke, breaking the quiet concentration.
“I have to admit,” he said, his tone light but thoughtful, “Y/n’s not as bad as I thought.”
Oscar glanced up from his task, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah? I’ve noticed that too. She’s... unique.”
Lando chuckled, nudging him playfully with his elbow.
“Unique, huh? You mean cold and distant?”
he teased, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
Oscar’s expression softened, and he straightened up from the car, wiping his hands on his overalls as he met Lando’s eyes.
His smile faltered for a second, but only for a moment.
“She’s not cold,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious.
“She’s just... guarded. And I think once you get to know her, you’ll see a different side.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, and took a step toward him, crossing his arms as he leaned in slightly.
“Really? You’ve spent a lot of time with her, huh? I didn’t think you’d put up with her cold demeanor. I mean, how do you even manage it? She’s like a brick wall sometimes.”
Oscar’s fingers tightened on the tools he was holding, but he didn’t let the tension show on his face.
He took a breath before speaking. “It’s not like that. She’s actually very sweet once you get past the walls she’s built.”
His voice softened, as if speaking about something fragile.
“There’s more to her than people realize. People don’t take the time to see that.”
Lando frowned, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Oscar, clearly unconvinced.
“Sweet? Dude, you’ve got to be kidding. I don’t know if I’m buying that. I mean, have you seen how she reacts to people? Most of the time, it’s like she’s trying to push everyone away. She doesn't smile, doesn't really talk unless she has to.”
Oscar hesitated, the flicker of unease in his chest threatening to break through, but he pushed it down.
He didn’t want to let Lando’s skepticism affect his thoughts about Y/n.
He could feel something real there, something that couldn’t be captured by just looking at the surface.
“I think you’re wrong,” Oscar said, his voice firm, though the unease lingered at the edge of his words.
“She’s just... been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, but she’s not who people think she is. She just needs someone to understand her.”
Lando’s face darkened slightly, his expression hardening as he stepped closer, his voice lowering to a more serious tone.
“You’re really going to let her fool you, huh? What if she’s just using you, Oscar? What if she’s trying to win you over for something, like fame, or to get information out of you? People like her, they’re good at manipulating others. They know how to get what they want, and you might just be her latest target.”
Oscar’s pulse quickened at Lando’s words. His grip on the tools tightened until his knuckles went white.
His initial instinct was to push back, to tell Lando that he didn’t know Y/n like he did, but the words hit a little too close to home.
He tried to control the rising heat in his chest, not wanting to let it spill over.
“No,” Oscar finally said, his voice quieter, though the defensive edge was still there.
“I don’t believe that. She’s not like that. You don’t know her the way I do.”
Lando’s gaze shifted, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his tone shifting to something more insistent, more urgent.
“Come on, man. I’m just looking out for you. You’re still new here. She’s smart, and she’s got a way of getting people to like her, but it’s all for a reason. Maybe she’s just trying to get close to you for some advantage. I’m just trying to warn you before you get too deep in. You should keep an eye on her.”
Oscar felt a tightening in his chest, a flicker of doubt threatening to cloud his judgment.
He wanted to trust Y/n, to believe that the connection they had was real, but Lando’s words were like a seed planted in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling.
“I don’t think I need to be worried about her,” Oscar replied, his voice firming again, though his hands were still clenched.
“She’s been nothing but professional with me, and I trust her. I’m not going to let something like this ruin that.”
Lando sighed, his posture relaxing just a fraction, though his concern was still evident.
“I hope you’re right, mate,” he said, his voice quiet but serious.
“Just keep your eyes open. You might be seeing things through rose-colored glasses right now, but trust me, people like her don’t change easily. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”
Before Oscar could respond, the team was called for practice, the urgency of the situation pushing the conversation aside.
Both drivers were pulled into the whirlwind of final checks and preparations for the race.
But even as they walked toward the garage, Oscar couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Lando’s words had left behind.
He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the doubt lingered, simmering beneath the surface.
He caught a glimpse of Y/n as they made their way to their cars, and for a moment, he found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Lando was right.
Could she really be hiding something?
Or was it just the fear of getting too close to someone who had built walls around herself for so long?
Oscar didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to figure it out, he couldn’t just dismiss her like that.
He took a deep breath and forced the thought away.
The race was about to begin, and there was no room for distractions now.
But as they took their positions for practice, Oscar couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that now danced at the edge of his mind.
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Later that afternoon,
after the chaos of the post-race debrief, I was given a simple task, one that I had done countless times before.
I was asked to grab some papers from the drivers’ room that had been left behind after a last-minute meeting with Oscar.
It's an easy. Simple. Routine. Right?
I pushed the door open to the driver's room, the quiet atmosphere inside making me feel alone for some reason.
I started sifting through the papers on the desk, the disarray mirroring the mess in my head.
Coffee cups, race schedules, notes from the meeting, all scattered in a haphazard way.
Then, my hand brushed against something, and before I could react, I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hitting the floor.
A loud thud.
I froze.
Oscar’s phone.
My heart skipped a beat as I bent down quickly, my fingers shaking slightly as I scooped it up.
I checked it over anxiously, my mind racing.
It seemed fine, no cracks, no shattered screen. Just a small scratch on the corner, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief and, for a split second, considered just leaving it there on the desk.
Maybe pretending it hadn’t happened would be easier than facing him.
But before I could even make the decision, the door swung open.
Oscar stood in the doorway, his gaze immediately locking onto the phone in my hand.
His eyes flicked from the phone to my face, his expression shifting in rapid succession, surprise, confusion, and then something darker, something colder that made my stomach churn.
“What are you doing with my phone?”
His voice was tight, almost accusing.
I felt a lump form in my throat.
“I—I'm sorry, I knocked it over, and I was just checking to see if it was okay.”
His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they hardened.
His jaw clenched as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that felt like the final barrier between us.
“Why were you going through it?”
His words cut through the air like a knife, and I could feel my pulse racing in my ears.
“I wasn’t going through it,” I quickly explained, trying to remain calm despite the panic rising in my chest.
“I swear, Oscar. I wasn’t—”
But he wasn’t listening. He cut me off, his voice rising with frustration.
“I just don’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
“Lando was right, wasn’t he? You’re just trying to get something out of me. Trying to manipulate me.”
I stood frozen, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.
My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying.
“What? What are you talking about?”
Oscar’s gaze was cold, distant, like a stranger’s.
He took a step closer, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“I know what Lando said,” he spat, his words laced with frustration.
“You’re trying to win me over, aren’t you? Maybe you just want to get close to me for some advantage, information, fame, whatever.”
Each word stung like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, the weight of the accusations suffocating me.
I had spent so long building trust with Oscar, trying to make him see the real me beneath the walls I had built.
But now, it was as if all that effort had meant nothing.
“Oscar, I don’t know what he’s told you, but I swear, that’s not it. You have to believe me,”
I pleaded, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
But his gaze hardened further, like an impenetrable wall had been built between us.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/n. I thought I understood you. But now… I don’t know.”
The words cut deeper than anything he had said before. I felt them settle in my chest like a heavy stone, each one sinking further into the pit of my heart.
The silence that followed felt unbearable. Neither of us moved, the air thick with unspoken words and hurt.
Finally, Oscar broke the silence with a sharp exhale, his frustration palpable.
“I don’t want to argue with you right now.”
And just like that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.
The sound of the door closing felt like the door between us had been shut permanently.
I stood there for a long moment, frozen in place.
My mind raced, but the only thing that kept repeating in my head was how completely shattered I felt.
It wasn’t just the argument, or the mistrust, it was the way everything I had worked for, everything I had built with Oscar, had just come crumbling down in an instant.
And for the first time in a long time, I was completely alone.
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Hours had passed since the argument, and the weight of it sat heavily on my chest.
The tension between Oscar and me still lingered in the air, suffocating and sharp.
I had kept to myself in the aftermath, buried in data and numbers, trying to escape the clamor of my own thoughts.
I needed the distraction, anything to keep my mind from spiraling further into the uncertainty of everything that had unfolded between us.
But as I walked down the narrow hallway, heading toward the garage, I heard the familiar voices of Lando and Oscar in the distance.
Their voices cut through the stillness of the hallway, and without meaning to, I found myself slowing down, drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame.
I tried to stay calm, but something in my gut told me I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear.
“…She’s just so cold,”
Lando’s voice was low but carried a certain finality, like he was trying to convince Oscar of something he already believed.
“I’ve tried to get close to her, man, but it’s like she doesn’t even care. She’s got this wall up that I can’t get through. It’s exhausting and childish.”
Oscar’s response was quieter, but still audible.
There was a hesitation in his voice that I hadn’t expected. “She's cold... but I guess that's just how she is”
My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the pressure of the situation suddenly too much to bear.
I thought, no, hoped, that Oscar might defend me, at least show some understanding of who I really was, what I had been through.
But instead, it was like he was agreeing with Lando.
And with every second that passed, the pain inside me deepened, unbearable and raw.
Lando’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time.
“Whatever, man. Just keep an eye on her, alright? I’m telling you, she’s got her own agenda. You can’t trust someone like that. She’s been playing everyone, and I’m sure you’re next.”
I stood frozen in place, my heart sinking.
Oscar was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the crackle of tension in the air, even from where I stood.
Was he really considering what Lando said? Was he starting to doubt me too?
Finally, Oscar spoke, his voice quieter than before, but there was an edge to it now, like something had shifted inside of him.
“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems suspicious and untrustworthy.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My stomach twisted painfully, and it was like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.
That was it. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t trust me.
He was agreeing with Lando’s words, buying into the idea that I was some sort of threat, someone who couldn’t be trusted.
The space between us that had once felt so close now seemed impossibly vast, like an insurmountable chasm had opened up between us.
I felt the sting of betrayal rush through me, even though I tried to swallow it down.
My mind raced. How could he believe that? How could he think that of me, after everything we had shared, the small moments of connection?
It didn’t make sense.
It wasn’t like me to be the one who couldn’t be trusted, but here I was, questioning everything.
Turning on my heel, I quickly walked away, the sound of their voices echoing behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to face them.
I could feel the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall.
Not now. Not when it felt like I had already lost everything.
As I made my way back through the hall, my stomach twisted with a kind of emptiness I couldn’t describe.
That was it. Oscar had chosen Lando’s side without hesitation. And that hurt more than anything.
The realization settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely alone in a place I thought I had found some semblance of belonging.
I had hoped for more from Oscar, but now, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.
What had we even shared if it could be so easily dismissed by someone who barely knew me?
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Later that evening,
I found myself walking toward the tech area, my mind still reeling from the aftermath of everything.
The weight of the argument earlier that day had left me hollow, like a piece of me had been torn away and I couldn’t find the strength to patch it back together.
I wanted to drown out the pain, to lose myself in the data, in the work that always kept me busy.
But then, as I rounded the corner, I saw him.
Oscar.
We came face-to-face in the hallway, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly between us, the world around us fading as the air between us thickened with unspoken words.
My heart raced, pounding in my chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a thousand-ton brick.
The silence felt suffocating, every second of it making me feel smaller, more exposed, more vulnerable.
I could barely breathe.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant, as if testing the air.
"Y/n, I want to talk about earlier. Please."
I couldn’t even look at him. His words felt like a distant echo, like something I couldn’t quite reach.
The sting of everything he’d said to me earlier, the doubt, the mistrust, burned too fiercely in my chest for me to react calmly.
I shook my head, my throat tight as I tried to hold it together.
My voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.
“What’s there to talk about? You don’t believe me. You don’t trust me.”
Oscar’s face softened, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, but it didn’t matter.
The pain in my heart was louder than anything he could say. He stepped closer, like he couldn’t bear the distance between us.
His voice was pleading, desperate for me to listen.
“That’s not true. I said those things out of anger, out of frustration. Lando’s words... they got to me. But I swear, I don’t think you’re using me. I—”
I cut him off, my voice breaking with the weight of my emotions. I couldn’t let him spin it.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head furiously.
You’re just like everyone else. You heard one thing, and you turned your back on me.”
His steps faltered, and for a moment, I saw something like regret flash in his eyes.
But it didn’t change anything. Not anymore.
The damage had been done, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.
“Y/n, please,” he said softly, reaching out, his hand hovering near my arm.
“I didn’t mean it.”
But his words felt hollow now.
I didn’t want to hear him apologize. Not when everything I had worked so hard to build between us seemed to have shattered in an instant.
I felt the tears welling up, burning my eyes, threatening to spill over.
My chest felt tight, suffocating under the weight of everything I had been trying to keep buried.
“You did,” I whispered through the tears. “You believed it. And now I can’t trust you either.”
Oscar’s hand dropped as if the weight of my words had physically knocked it from him.
The space between us seemed to stretch, a chasm that no words could bridge.
His eyes flickered with something like frustration, but I couldn’t find the energy to care.
“You’re always so defensive, always so closed off,” he said, his voice sharper now, tinged with anger.
“It’s exhausting. I can’t keep up with this anymore.”
I felt the sharp sting of his words, but there was something else beneath it.
Something that twisted in my chest.
“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to,” I choked out, my voice cracking with emotion.
“Maybe you just don’t want to understand.”
Oscar’s eyes turned cold, and his voice rose, filled with a rawness I wasn’t prepared for.
“You think you’re so much better than everyone, don’t you? You act like you don’t care, but deep down, you’re just scared. Scared that you’re not good enough. You’re scared of getting hurt, so you push everyone away. And it’s pathetic.”
I froze.
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my breath caught in my throat.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.
I was frozen in place, each syllable echoing through my mind, digging into the parts of me I tried so desperately to keep hidden.
The parts I had tried to lock away from everyone, including myself.
And now, here he was, exposing them in the worst way possible.
I trusted him, but he used my trust in him against me.
My worst fears, my deepest insecurities, laid bare before me in the cruelest possible light.
I didn’t want to cry. I couldn’t. But the tears came, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them.
I had built so many walls around myself, so many layers to protect the fragile parts inside, and now they felt like they were crumbling away with each word Oscar spoke.
Oscar’s expression faltered as soon as he realized what he had just said.
His eyes widened in horror like he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his mouth. This wasn't him.
He reached out to me, but the instinct to pull away was stronger than anything I had ever felt.
My body jerked back, my anger and hurt boiling over in that single moment.
“No,” I spat, my voice venomous and raw. “Don’t touch me.”
His hand dropped like a stone, and I saw the regret washing over his face, but it didn’t matter.
Not now.
Not after everything.
It seemed like he was regretting everything the minute he realized he was losing me.
But the damage was already done, and there was no taking it back.
I turned away from him, the weight of everything crashing down on me as I walked away, the tears falling freely now.
My heart felt like it had been torn in half.
I didn’t look back, because I knew if I did, I’d crumble.
The pain was too much.
I was almost out of the hallway when I heard his footsteps behind me.
He was following me.
“Y/n, please,” Oscar called again, his voice breaking through the distance between us.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just let me explain.”
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t listen to him anymore.
I had trusted him and believed that he saw me for who I was, and now… now he had shattered everything.
My heart felt raw, bleeding from the wounds he had inflicted.
I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.
“You want to apologize now?” I asked, my voice trembling with the pain I could no longer hide.
“It’s too late, Oscar. You’ve already made your choice. You’ve already believed the worst about me.”
Oscar stepped closer, his face full of regret. “Y/n, I—”
“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head, my heart breaking in two.
“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep trusting people who turn on me the second something goes wrong. I’ve had enough.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
The silence stretched between us, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But it didn’t matter.
The damage was already done, and I couldn’t forgive him, not now.
Not after everything.
With a final, bitter glance, I turned away and walked off, the tears still falling as I left him standing there, his apology hanging in the air between us, unanswered and unaccepted.
But one thing was for sure: I had to put myself first.
The end
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moonchild9350 · 3 days ago
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Miss You
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summary: you dream of a mysterious man with blond hair who seems so familiar yet so distant.
pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader
genre: angst, smut, alternate reality, sci fi au
word count: 2.0k
warnings: alternate reality, lots of dreams, sensual touch, clit/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't), creampies
notes: this idea is inspired by hyunjin's mv Miss You but with a twist. this is my weird brain in it's sci fi era lol. let me know what you think of this idea! I love feedback!
please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)
divider by @sweetmelodygraphics
General masterlist
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He came to you in a dream, softly and gently, his face clear as day before slowly materializing, becoming nothing in an expanse of black. Everyday, you’d watch as he’d work, his eyes and body focused on the task at hand, a gentle smile on his face. Despite this, there was also a melancholic feel to his aura, as if something was missing in his little world.
You thought the man beautiful, but even that word seemed to be inadequate. You loved gazing at his face, a set of soft eyes that glistened, complete with chocolate brown orbs that caused shivers to run down your spine as you looked into them. His lips were plush, cushiony and tinted with pink, a complete contrast to his chiseled face.
His blond hair seemed soft and silky, the strands tied up in a half up, half down up do while other times they hung perfectly against his neck. Lastly, you loved gazing at his hands, the veins prominent and fingers long, adorned with various silver rings.
You couldn’t help but watch them as he painted, his wrist gently swooping across the canvas as he translated whatever scene was playing out in his head. As he mixed colors of white and green, he hummed softly, his voice muted yet projecting across the small room.
He gazed at the canvas in thought, his bottom lip snug between his teeth, and his eyebrow scrunched in annoyance, the tsk he let out harsh and short in the otherwise quiet room. You eyed the canvas, trying to see what disturbed his mood, but every time you tried to peer over his shoulder, the image would blur, almost as if you weren’t meant to see it. The only thing you could make out was the name Hyunjin, which must have been his name.
You tried it out, the syllables rolling off your tongue like water, the sound so pleasant your heart rate increased and your face became flushed as the heat rose. Hyunjin looked up and then smiled, almost as if the dilemma he was facing was solved. However, the smile still didn’t quite reach his eyes as melancholy was still present, taking over the beautiful orbs.
As he went back to painting, the scene faded away slowly, Hyunjin materializing as he softly whistled a tune. Right as it faded to black, you thought you heard him murmur something, the words jumbled and inaudible, but present nonetheless. To you, it almost sounded like he said, “I’ll see you again.”
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You are dreaming again, you know so as Hyunjin is present again, this time he’s walking around the small room, his eyes searching for something. He has a camera in his hands, the strap hanging haphazardly in front of his body.
You wonder what he’s searching for, the look of frustration yet determination present. Hyunjin stops at some items placed perfectly on a table. As you take a closer look, you realize there’s a hand held mirror, rose, and bottle of perfume present. While you gaze at the items, an electric feeling spreads through your body, a feeling of deja vu spreading over you.
The items seem familiar but at the same time not, the thought confusing in the moment. You look up at Hyunjin and gasp, as he’s looking your way, a look of surprise on his face. It seems as if he has seen you, but you know this to be false, as he shakes his head and goes back to pondering the objects in front of him.
Eventually, he gives up and saunters over to another corner, this time stopping in front of a flower arrangement, the flowers wilted and clinging to the last moments of life. Hyunjin nods his head and smiles before lifting the camera to his face, squinting his right eye as he focuses his left through the lens.
He adjusts the zoom a few times before pressing the shutter, the soft click echoing throughout the room. He takes a few more pictures before finding another angle. Click, Click, Click. Hyunjin snaps picture after picture, his mood changing slowly from one of irritation to one of apathy.
You watch intrigued until the sun slowly sets, the once clear blue sky giving way to shades of orange, red, and purple. Once Hyunjin is satisfied with his work, he looks up and turns your way, almost as if he can see you, just like the moment before. He raises his camera and points it at you before pressing the shutter, the click going off with a flash, causing you to blink before everything fades to black.
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You dream of Hyunjin again and again, the scenery the same little room each time. With each dream, you feel as if you know this man, however, just when you think you can remember from where, the idea slips from your mind to not return again until you dream again.
You find yourself frustrated, having watched Hyunjin paint, take pictures, and even write in a notebook, over and over. It’s the same scene again and again and you start to wonder if there’s any significance behind it. There has to be and you try to voice so when you dream, hoping that Hyunjin will answer, but he never does. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, and why should he as it’s all a dream right?
He seems happier, more hopeful with each passing dream, as if what he is searching for is within reach. You wonder what that is, slightly jealous that he may be getting the answers he’s been searching for, unlike you. However, despite the uncertainty of it all, you enjoy being with him in these dreams, finding peace in his company, as if you’ve been there before, watching, listening, and just be with him.
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Once more you are dreaming, excitement brewing as you anticipate what will happen today. Maybe he will paint again, which you have grown to love as he seems the happiest while doing so. However, as you walk into the room, he’s standing at the window looking out into the scenery beyond, the sun shining brightly into the room.
He reaches up to grasp something only he can see, his fingers wrapping around the invisible item before he lets it go. Hyunjin is humming again, the tune you now recognize, which shocks you. You are frozen in place as he hums and then switches to whistling, the soft tune dredging up memories that must have been buried deep within.
You close your eyes and find yourself drifting, drifting to a time and place where you lived in happiness with a man, your lover. You both were happy and carefree, perfect for each other, soulmates. Your body is filled with warmth at the memory, as your brain tries to focus on the man’s face.
As time passes, his features become more clearer, until you realize it’s Hyunjin, the man who is present in this room with you right now, the man you have been seeing in your dreams for months.
“Welcome back,” Hyunjin murmurs as he turns around to face you, a gentle smile on his face as he looks to you.
His eyes are filled with joy, the melancholy that was present gone. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you in an embrace, pressing his face into your hair. You both stand there in each other’s arms, as joy radiates off both of you.
Hyunjin.
Hyunjin who is your best friend. Hyunjin who is your lover. Hyunjin who is your soulmate.
You remember everything now.
How he was painting you over and over, the image never clear as you were trying to remember your love, how he was photographing all of your favorite items, his eyes full of longing for you. You realize you dreamt of these things and of him, as you tried to find your way back to him.
Tears have started to form in your eyes, whether they are from happiness or sadness, you’re not completely sure. However, you pull back and look up into your lover’s eyes, taking in the brown orbs as he gazes at you lovingly.
“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry for leaving you,” you whisper, your voice filled with regret but hope, hoping that he will forgive you for such a crime.
Hyunjin brushes the tears that are falling down your cheeks, as he gently smiles down at you.
“I’ve been waiting for you love. I’ve missed you,” he says as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
They are softer than you remember, the feeling like silk on your lips. He pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss, before laying you down gently on the couch. There’s a flurry of movement as he quickly but efficiently rids you of your clothes, before he rids himself of his, his eyes on you the whole time.
He coaxes sweet moans from you as he touches you, teases you, your nipples hardened and pussy soaking as he works the parts of you only he knows. You think you feel overwhelmed as he pulls yet another orgasm from you, a wide grin on his face as his fingers that you’ve watched for so long circles, pinches and taps at your clit.
You whimper as he finally sheaths his cock within you, stretching you out slowly and deliberately, making sure you feel every ridge, every vein on his length. As he bottoms out, you both let out a moan before he begins to thrusts his hips, coaxing sweet, wet, sounds from your pussy.
You are lost in him, your hands roaming his body, feeling the soft skin beneath your palms. You take him in as if you’re memorizing his body, his toned arms, his pinkish-brown nipples, to the look on his face, his eyes scrunched up in pleasure as he drives his cock in and out of you over and over.
You take in the thin sheen of sweat that has formed, causing his body to glisten as twilight takes over, the setting sun’s rays casting shadows across his face as he grunts and sighs in pleasure.
You don’t want to forget him, not again as you seemed to have done, for reasons you are not entirely sure. You know you won’t forget him though as he brings you to orgasm, as you whimper, as the pleasure spreads through you, your walls clenching over his cock, holding him in.
You watch as Hyunjin reaches his orgasm, a strangled cry leaving his lips as he murmurs “I miss you. I miss you.”
He stills once the last drop of his cum paints your walls, his gaze locked on yours. He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your lips before dragging his tongue down your jaw, your neck, and chest until he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks.
You gasp at the sensation, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as he nips and suckles, alternating between the two buds to give them equal attention. You feel his hips rock into yours once more, the drag slow, achingly slow as he makes love to you.
As he drags his cock into you, he opts to swallow your moans, and instead you both find yourself gasping and breathing in tandem, your body, mind, and souls becoming one. The pleasure is increasing, the white hot sensation building and building until it becomes too much and you let go, clutching onto your lover as your walls milk his cock dry.
And in the afterglow of your love making, you lay quietly in each other’s embrace, your bodies a sweaty mess. Time seems to slow as you breathe as one, as the sun finally sets, saying goodbye to yet another day.
You realize this is the moment you want to live in forever. Here with your lover, your best friend. Here with Hyunjin.
And as you come to this decision, Hyunjin looks up at you once more before he says with finality:
“I’ve missed you.”
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taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek
taglist open! dm or ask to be tagged (ages must be pinned or in bio)
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hotchshands · 2 days ago
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Trophy (sang-woo x gn!reader au) Part 1/2
Masterlist | Taglist
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Summary: Sang-woo wins the games, and you become his young new trophy wife. Not to worry though, Gi-hun is alive thanks to the frontman.
Word Count: 1.9k
Contains: lots of plot, dark!sang-woo featuring ptsd, gn!reader, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, depictions of violence i.e., sang-woo killing gi-hun?
A/N: S2 made me miss him, so I decided to write something. Had to break this up into two parts cause it’s a lot, but I’m happy to add more if y’all want.
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Sang-woo wakes up in the new penthouse he bought far away from home and looks over at you, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. He wasn’t sure why he married you, but then he remembered the games and how they turned him into a murderer. Some might even say a total psychopath. Having been through hell, he knew he couldn’t just marry anyone. He had to be extremely careful with his choice.
You were his best option if he wanted someone to stay with him and overlook the things he did for 45.6 billion won. You were young, poor, desperate, and, best of all, completely bendable. Sang-woo took advantage of that and shaped you into his ideal partner. You made it easy. He knew you were perfect from the moment he met you in the train station all those years ago.
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“Excuse me. Do you know if this train is going uptown?” Sang-woo asks a young-looking stranger on the platform.
The stranger turns to look at him, blushing upon seeing him standing there, towering over them in a grey suit. “Yes, this is the uptown train,” you reply.
Sang-woo noticed your flushed complexion. You looked scared and nervous. He decided then and there that he liked that look on you—the way your cheeks were red, the way your eyes never met his, instead focusing on his statue rather than his face, and the way your body stirred upon seeing him. For a moment, he thought you had seen right through his facade, seeing him for the madman he truly is rather than the genius everyone else saw him as.
Were you scared or intrigued? Sang-woo couldn't decide.
The train pulls up to the platform with a stretch. The sound reminds him of the games, making him zone out. Your voice brings him back to reality: “Are you alright?” Sang-woo snaps out of it and looks over at you. You look genuinely concerned.
He smiled slightly, pushing his glasses up before answering, “I'm alright. So? Shall we?” Sang-woo motions for you to board the train. You board the train without a second thought. Sang-woo follows you inside the train car. Once inside, he tells you to sit down while he stands in front of your seated form, holding onto the railing. You didn't question him or try to protest, foolishly trusting a stranger. Pathetic. Just like Gi-hun, Sang-woo thought to himself.
He wondered about Gi-hun from time to time. A part of him thought he might have survived the final game, but there could only be one winner.
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“It's over. I won't let you leave here with that money,” Gi-hun said, holding the steak knife, determined to win, to beat Sang-woo. He was always stubborn, so much so that it clouded his judgment. He never knew when to admit defeat.
Sang-woo wasn't going to let him quit. They were too far into the game to just walk away without the prize money. Not only did quitting mean no money, but it also meant that those 454 people died for nothing. It meant that he killed people for nothing.
Gi-hun walks towards Sang-woo, knife in hand, and attacks. Sang-woo dodges the attack and manages to grab hold of Gi-hun. He holds him tightly, bringing the knife closer to his face, but Gi-hun cuts his wrist and escapes Sang-woo's hold, causing Sang-woo to drop his knife. Gi-hun wastes no time and attacks, cutting Sang-woo's cheek before kicking his knife across the field. Frustrated, Sang-woo takes off his suit jacket, using it to force Gi-hun to drop his knife. Both, now unarmed, rush toward each other, pushing and fighting in a fiery of agony as the rain falls down upon them and the court.
After a few punches, Sang-woo gets Gi-hun in a chokehold, which Gi-hun escapes from, only to have his suit jacket torn off his back. This is it, Sang-woo thought to himself before towering over Gi-hun's exhausted body, bringing the suit jacket up around his neck. “Die!” Sang-woo says as he chokes Gi-hun with the jacket. “Die!” he says once more, but Gi-hun is stubborn.
“Get up! Get up!” Sang-woo yells, trying his hardest to end this once and for all. As soon as the two stand up, they fall backward on the sand. Sang-woo grows exhausted, and Gi-hun grows confident as he moves away from Sang-woo's chokehold.
The rain continues to fall as the two return to fighting it out, both determined to end the final game. Sang-woo grabs a knife off the wet sand and stabs Gi-hun in the leg, then again in the stomach. Gi-hun groans in pain.
Sang-woo kicks him in the face, causing Gi-hun to fall onto the sand in the middle of the squid-shaped court. “You remember this place?”Sang-woo begins. “This is where they made us play Red Light, Green Light. Everyone who was standing here is dead now. Everyone... except for us, Gi-hun.” He kicks him in the face again before continuing, “We've gone too far to go back now.” With that, Sang-woo stabs Gi-hun. The knife is met with Gi-hun's hand in protest.
“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees. So, if we both give up now, we can end it,” Gi-hun cries through the pain of the knife in his hand.
“When we were kids, you and I would play like this, and our moms would call us to dinner. No one's calling anymore,” Sang-woo sighs as tears form in his eyes. He pulls the knife out of Gi-hun's hand with force before stabbing him a final time. Gi-hun bleeds out slowly. “Sang-woo... my daughter, Ga-yeong... please, look after her and Cheol. I promised her I would look after Cheol,” Gi-hun sobs before finally admitting defeat.
“Gi-hun... I'm sorry,” Sang-woo sobs as the speaker announces player 456 has been eliminated.
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You get up from your seat on the train before saying goodbye to the strange man in front of you. “Well, this is me.” The train comes to a stop, and the doors open. As you turn to leave, Sang-woo snaps out of his daydream and grabs hold of your wrist before placing a card in your pocket. “Thank you,” he says.
You weren't sure why the man was thanking you. All you did was confirm he had the right train. You nod anyway, to be polite, before exiting the train car. As the train doors close, you turn to see the man is already looking at you. Strange, you thought as you watched him leave the station.
When you get home and take off your coat, you notice something fell out of your pocket. You bend down to pick up a card. You stare at the number on it, wondering how it got there. Remembering the strange man on the train, you decide to call the number. After three rings, someone picks up.
“Hello?” The voice says.
“Hello. I uh think you might've given me this number. Who is this?” you reply.
The voice lets out a chuckle, “Yes, I remember. You're the one from the train. My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Sang-woo.”
So it was that strange man from earlier, you thought before speaking into the phone and introducing yourself to the man known as Sang-woo. The man repeats your name back as if trying to memorize it.
“I have a proposition for you. If you're curious, I'd like you to meet me tomorrow night. Before you come to a decision, check your other pocket. Should you agree, there's a lot more where that came from,” with that Sang-woo hangs up.
My other pocket? You grab your jacket and look in the other pocket to find $1,000 cash. Huh?! You count the money to be sure before holding it up toward the ceiling light. It was real. Before you can debate the money further, you hear your phone ping. You pick it up to see a text from an unknown number that reads a location and a time. That had to be him. Sang-woo...
The next day, you rush around your apartment looking for something to wear to meet Sang-woo. The location he sent you looked to be that of a park so you didn’t need to dress fancy, but you wanted to leave a good impression. The man could be a psycho planning to kidnap you for all you know, yet he gave you $1,000 which made you think he could be trusted. You still couldn’t understand why give a stranger that much money. The man was clearly rich. especially given that suit he was wearing yesterday, but why not donate it or give it to someone who needed it more? You weren’t exactly well off financially, but you had a roof over your head and a paying job so you couldn’t complain.
After making a mess of your closet, you pull an outfit that pleases you. Hopefully, this pleases him. You grab your belongings, including the money he gave you, and leave to meet Sang-woo at the park. Once you arrive, you check the time on your phone: 10:02 PM. Where is he? Just as you start to think about heading back home, you see a shadow walking toward you in the distance.
“Sorry, I'm late. Please have a seat,” Sang-woo motions to the park bench. You sit down beside him and take in his appearance. He looks polished in his white button-up and thick black coat, but his eyes tell a different story. Behind the glasses, he looks emotionless, almost evil. He pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one before continuing, “I'm glad you showed up. I'm sure you're wondering why I brought you here, so I'll cut to the chase.”
“Wait,” you interrupt him, handing him the money he gave you. “Here. This is yours.”
He stared at the money, taking another drag from his cigarette without daring to take it. “Keep it. I gave it to you, so please keep it.”
You make a motion for him to take it, refusing to take his money when you don't need or want it. “No, really, I can't take it. It's too much.”
He stares at you with those piercing eyes, “Keep it.”
You return the money to your pocket, refusing to argue with the strange man and focus on the ground because those eyes terrify you. Perhaps he really was here to kidnap you.
Sang-woo takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it with his foot. He then reaches into his pocket to pull out a black box and a wad of cash before facing you, holding out the two things in front of you. “You can walk away with more money or marry me. You can only pick one. One makes you richer. The other makes you even more rich. Pick one,” he says, opening the black box to reveal a diamond engagement ring.
You blink in confusion at the options being presented to you. Without even thinking, you feel your hand move toward the ring. It was a beautiful ring, one everyone dreamed about. Your hand touches the top of the black box, pinky meeting the skin of the man holding it. You're not sure what made you pick the ring. Perhaps it was the excitement of a new life or the idea of never worrying about money again.
Sang-woo smiles, putting the wad of cash back in his pocket before placing the ring on your finger. He slides it on slowly, gently brushing the metal further down your finger until it reaches the end. “Good choice.”
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revelboo · 1 day ago
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the recent development with 'everything is alright' has me wondering about king starscream and how... lonely he seems. granted rattrap is there but hes... not much company in stars mind, i think. like dont get me wrong i knew he'd be lonely and a little on the right side of miserable, but that in tandem with the bit about 'dont you know you're home/his future/the one good thing in his life' bit from the last chapter has me!! chokign up a bit cuz damn he really wasnt kidding!!! he got what he wanted but at the cost of still being miserable bc its fuckin LONELY at the top when youre paranoid as all hell with VERY REAL justifications to back said paranoia up!!! god!!!
Yeah, King Star isn’t all that happy. I do like playing with different versions of the same character and just tweaking the circumstances. In Everything is Alright he’s alienated himself from his Trine due to his paranoia, in True Romance he still trusts his Trine and has that relationship, so he’s a lot less paranoid and lonely, in Overdone his Trine just drifted apart. He could have made more of an effort to connect and reach out, but he was so focused on his goals, he didn’t really notice that gap widening until they’re almost strangers to each other
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Overdone Pt 2
IDW RID Starscream x Reader
• “You’re weren’t on earth, were you?” He asks when Rattrap gawks at the human in his grip. Striding past, he heads for his private habsuite. Hears Rattrap weakly call out about the reports and he ignores him. They can wait. But you? A human from nowhere plummeting to your death. Closing the door behind himself, he studies you as you cling to his servos. Timid for a spy. “Well?” He growls, depositing you on his desk. “Where did you come from?” Who sent you to spy on him? Wants to know so he can and deliver your broken body to them.
• Falling on your hip, you stare at the big monster and his wings flare out. Trying to say something, anything, when you’re too terrified to make a sound. You’d been driving and then crippling plain had slammed through you, feeling like being torn in two. And then finding yourself somewhere wholly different falling to your death. It’s a nightmare and you can’t wake up. Lip curling, he slams his huge palms down far too close to you and you scream and cringe into a ball. “Speak! Who are you working for?” He roars.
• Pretending at terror? No, venting softly as that acrid shift in your scent registers, he leans back. Not an act. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” You cry, little voice broken and terrified and his wings droop slightly. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but you came from somewhere. Humans don’t spontaneously teleport across space and time. Except you apparently had. Servos tapping on the desk, he glares at you and the problem you pose. If you are a spy? An autobot ally sent to undermine him? Why risk your death? If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have died. Maybe whoever had dropped you meant to see what he’d do and you’re of no importance to them beyond as an expendable pawn?
• “Stop cowering and sniveling,” he growls and you risk a glance at that scowling face, see his optics narrow at you. “If you show your fear, others will use that against you.” Heart hammering against your ribs, you watch him pace around the huge room. And when he’s not looking at you, you can breathe. Try to get your bearings. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but it had hurt worse than anything you’ve ever felt. Tracking him as he lifts a hand, murmuring, you realize he’s talking to himself at the same time it sinks past the fear that he’d caught you when you’d been falling. He’d saved you.
• Why had he saved you? Because you’re not a monster not matter how much you pretend you are, that annoying, little ghost whispers and he curls his lip. “You know nothing.” Refuses to look, to let his processor trick him with impossible things. Would think maybe you’re a hallucination, too. Except he’d felt your little heart beating against his servos, the warmth of your body in his hands. He’s not mad enough to imagine details like that, yet. Though for you to appear when he was considering not pulling up? Are you a punishment? Drifting back to the desk, his head tips with predatory interest as he rests a servo against your throat and you lay a soft hand on him. You feel real. “Tell me why I shouldn’t rid myself of you. Make me believe you’re no spy.”
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irazai · 3 days ago
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── STANDING NEXT TO YOU ; dazai osamu x fem!reader
synopsis ─▸ ❝ he is someone you should truly stay away from because every smile of his drips with danger, every laugh is coated with mystery and every touch has tragedy lingering yet that's the only thing you can't bring yourself to do -- staying away from him. especially when he seeks you out himself. ❞
warnings ; racer!zai. age gap. dazai is in late twenties while reader is in early twenties, nineteen to be exact. angst. romance. tragedy. illegal racing and illegal activities. port mafia is in here too. dazai has smoking addiction. drug addiction. toxic workplace. reader works at a club. sexual harassment. prostitution though it's mentioned lightly. uses of whore, slut etc in a derogatory way. pedophilic behaviour and pedophilia, mentions of grooming.
chapter specific warnings ; mentions of being raped, sexual assault, dissociation from reality etc.
masterlist.
it's a busy night tonight, you think to yourself as you descend down the stairs, going down to the ground floor to help at the bar. you stop for a moment to admire the moon shining brightly through the glass windows before you look down at the roads below and wonder how ironic it is for a club to be able to blend so well with it's surroundings.
how many people must pass by this lavish two floor building without even realising that they just passed by a club?
you wish you could be one of them, alas, you aren't. continuing to walk down after that short moment of peace, you initially flinch as the loud music reaches your ear. you aren't used to loud noises even yet despite working here for years.
as you walk through the many tables and couches, you have to pretend as if you don't feel the leering disgusting stares on your ass or the whispers of immature or drunk guys betting to each other how long it will take before you end up in bed with them. can't they be more quieter about their perverse nature?
you increase your pace, fortunately there was no customer who decided to stop you so you reached the bar without any intruptions or hardships, after which only do you take a breath of relief. the worst thing is you can't say no to any customer if they want you to do them some sexual favours. your boss won't listen to your reasons that this isn't your work and you are just a escort here. he will only tell you to keep quiet and keep your head low, desperate to please his disgusting customers no matter what.
you hate all of them. even your boss. you can't stand any of these disgusting men who think they are above all just because they have a little too much money to spare.
"i am surprised how packed and busy the second floor is." one of the bartenders say, leaning over the counter to talk to you since the music here is so loud.
you nod, leaning in so he can hear you speak too, "it's cause there will be a race later on."
"woah, really? just out in the open like this?" he expresses the same surprise you did when you first heard about it from one of the strippers who learnt this from her client -- the organizer of these races.
"mhm, money talks." you smile, leaning back to stand properly, slipping your feet out of the painful heels you are wearing to relieve them for a little while. you don't give them time to heal because you don't have the permission to do so. looking down at your feet, you grimace yourself at how they are covered with red markings from the heel. your soles pain alot too and even bending your toes is painful.
leaning back against the counter to look over at the bustling club, you wonder how their lives are. your eyes dart towards the entrance right in time to see a man with blue dyed hair entering and you immediately straighten up, adjusting your top.
the man moves like a snake slithering between the dancing and making out bodies on the dance floor. you squint your eyes to focus on him as he seems to blend in with the crowd.
"what are you focusing on?" the bartender from before is also leaning on the counter, eyes trained on the man.
"he's one of the event manager's of those races." you tell, not looking away even once.
"damn, he looks more like he belongs to a gang or one of those kpop idols."
"well he certainly fits the illegal part of those races." you smile, turning to look at the bartender again. "they come here often. good luck in guessing who is who."
"finally a good pass time apart from listening to horrible hook up stories." the bartender snorts sarcastically as you wave at him, turning to walk towards the direction of the blue haired man.
it's not hard to find him as he sits where he always does, at the centre on one of the u-shaped couches, observing the rest of the club.
he nods at you upon seeing you approach him and smiles a bit as you lean down to have your ear next to his mouth so he can speak without having to be loud.
"is the boss done?" he asks, you look down at your digital watch before shaking your head. "nope, there's still an hour left. he rented the room for six hours today. he's here since seven p.m."
you tell the man who groans. "what does he even do there?"
you blink. "um normally when someone books a room, it's to have se--"
"i know." the man cuts you off immediately, smiling sheepishly as he waves his hand to dismiss you yet you stay there as you want to ask him something.
you wet your bottom lip with your tongue before nervously whispering, "is he gonna come?"
the man furrows his eyebrows in thought then quickly smiles, "i am joking. of course he will, you are here after all."
you smile as you mutter a small thank you, turning as you leave because you do not want that man to see how happy you feel on hearing that since 'he' is the only one who makes it worth working in this hellhole.
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cheers and howls erupted at the same time like an explosion when the familiar koenigsegg drives over the finishing line in first place. many more cheers erupted when it drifted and did it's famous donut on the road with it's tires as it stopped itself. due to the car's velocity, dust and pebbles which were on the road were now blowing around when the door of the car opened.
he steps out, his brown hair being the first thing which the spectators can see as he ruffles his hair, smirking. as the dust settles on the road again, rushed footsteps is all he hears before seeing his manager laughing joyfully.
"attaboy! " the older man cheers, laughing as he pats the taller man's shoulder. "you keep this up and you might catch the eyes of one of those suckers, my boy hafta get invited to formula one at this rate."
he smirks in amusement at the older's enthusiasm but quickly bursts his bubble of imagination, "oh my, how sad it is that despite your motivation i do not think of racing as anything more than a pass time?" he teases the older man who rolls his eyes. when the older man smirks, his gold tooth flashes as it catches the light from one of the streetlights, "if you change your mind, hit yo man up, 'kay dazai?"
dazai only rolls his eyes, "where's boss man?" he asks, not wanting to waste another second here.
"at the club.... where are you goin--"
"to the club." dazai shouts, already jogging away while the older man sighs, grumbling under his breath. "he's always at that club. what's so special that he runs there every night?"
dazai quickly jogged towards his mercedes, adjusting his hair in the rear view mirror and looking over his face incase something out of the ordinary was tainting it. he quickly looked away however, he can never tolerate seeing his own face too much. he opens the glove compartment to take out his box of cigarettes and a lighter, these two being absolutely essential for him. it's like he can't function without these now, a bad habit but he's already too addicted to give a fuck now.
he takes out one cigarette stick and holds it between his lips, using his other hand to light the lighter and brings the small flame closer towards the free end of the stick. as soon as he takes one puff he releases a loud puff as if he had only now engulfed oxygen.
tilting his head back, he closes his eyes for a while as his body feels it's almost reached a heaven like state, he feels light and he can feel the nicotine in every vein running through his body. it's been only six hours without smoking and he already feels as if he was going to loose his mind. cutting off his smoking habit seems like a distant dream now.
he sighs again as he looks at his face in the rearview mirror again, making sure he looks absolutely dashing. he has a girl to impress once again after all. ".... should i get her chocolates?"
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"i am sorry, i don't drink during work hours." you politely smile to conceal your fear which the man sitting on the couch in this private room is producing in you, having no choice but to serve him because this is your job. you can't 'slack' off on your job as said by your boss the last time you tried to bring these kinds of harassment to his attention.
"mhm baby, just a bit? come on, it's gonna be worth it, i promise." he doesn't understand and continues to push you to do something you clearly don't want to. you lick your lips as you feel them go dry, a shrill stab of fear goes through your chest when you see his eyes narrow at your action as he had clearly seen this as 'seduction'. he doesn't seem to think of the sweatbeads on your forehead and your wide frantic eyes as signs of panick or fear but rather as signs of you trying to appear demure to seduce him.
"i was eighteen not long ago sir, please don't. we will both get in troub --" your voice is shaky due to fear, eyes closing as you try not to grimace when he lowers his hand to cup your cheek. his hand feels disgusting on your skin but you can't speak about it. you internally feel your stomach clench in disgust when he begins to rub his thumb up and down your cheek as he leans in, his hot breath hits the shell of your ear, "you think you can fool me? you think i don't know how long you have been working here? are you allowed to have favourites between customers, hmm? should i have a word with your boss?"
his underlying threats makes you widen your eyes, desperately shaking your head as you plead. "i-i am sorry. i was out of line, sir. i will drink it."
he smiles in victory, his hand moves down to cup your jaw as he brings your face forwards while tilting the glass towards your lips, you part your lips slowly as the drink flows down your throat. you have to pinch your thighs to not end up coughing or gagging.
"good girl. take a big sip." he orders, a shiver travels down your spine as you can guess what perverted thoughts are behind his cocky smile.
don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. hold it in. hold it in. don't puke.
you chant to yourself because you cannot manage to make a mistake. boss is a scary man. not knowing his name despite living with him for eight years is enough of a proof.
his hand travels up towards your lips as he taps it with his thumb before he leans down, licking his lips greedily as he tries to peak down the low cut neckline of your jacket. a cropped leather jacket under which you are wearing just a bra.
don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke. don't puke.
the man tilts the glass down to watch the alcoholic drink flow down your throat and neck, disappearing inside your jacket. he gulps in pleasure at the thought of this drink staining your cleavage, how lewd it must look if he had the chance to see them, drops of the drink would cling to your nipples and drip down your chest.
an excited huff of breath escapes his lips at the imagery in his twisted mind, he smiles to seem apologetic but all you see are the ugly curves of his lips, like a monster smiling before devouring it's prey.
"i am sorry baby." he begins to speak, grabbing a few tissues from the tissue box next to him, he curled them and began to dap it on your neck. at his movement a very violent shudder travels down your spine, you don't even have to raise your eyes to see his second hand slowly inching towards his belt. the reason he is being so discrete despite wanting to pleasure himself is simple, this despicable man gets off to the thrill of subtlety.
"you should take your jacket off, i will help you clean it." he says, hand dipping lower to press the tissues against your covered cleavage, a shuddering breath escapes his lips, eyes hungrily waiting for you to expose more of yourself, to feed into his perversion more.
"i-i can do it myself." you stutter, trying to take a step back but he grabs your forearms, his fingers digging into your skin as he shakes his head. "no, no. it's my fault so let me help."
his words aren't a request or anything. it's an order. the previous threat of complaining to boss hangs at the back of your mind as you quietly unzip your jacket and take it off.
the man ogles your breasts covered by the bra, his hand slips inside his pants as he begins to jerk. "lean forward."
and you know you have to follow what he says because trapped in the walls of this private room, he is the king and you are the slave. not only to him but to the emperor (boss) as well. whatever boss says shall happen, no?
you do not have a choice, you think, it's all your fault anyway. you made a bad choice years ago and now this is the consequence.
. . . but isn't it too much? doesn't matter. blaming yourself somehow helps you to suck it up and continue working despite your own self screaming how unfair it is.
when the man leans to unclasp your bra, you do not flinch or react. over time you learned that fighting it or resisting it is more painful than the actual process (it isn't, both are equally awful but somehow gaslighting and blaming yourself helps you function.)
the man's hands hover over your breasts, skimming the skin as he pants.
a beep emits from your phone which is by his side before he could grab your flesh, a annoyed look of almost fury spreads onto his face as he looks at the useless piece of technology, he reads who messaged you and almost sighs but he doesn't.
no king is foolish enough to deny the emperor.
"it's your boss, go. he's sending someone else for me." he informs you, voice laced in annoyance yet the relief his words fill you with is almost enough to make you tear up.
it takes you no more than five minutes to wear your bra and jacket again, grabbing your phone as you immediately twist on your heels and walk out with hurried steps.
you unlock your phone to see what boss messaged you, heart thumping in your chest as you read the text.
boss : dress nice. he is here.
a shiver filled with relief travels down your vertebral column as you can finally meet the one who makes working here a bit more bearable. he hadn't come here yesterday or the day before yesterday so you are really happy that he is here today.
of course he has a life. he is not inclined to remember you either but it still feels depressing to think he will forget you one day, you won't be more than a blur with the tag of 'a girl at a nightclub'. it just feels wrong to not be remembered by anyone so you will put this expectation on the one who treated you like a human.
perhaps because he himself is unable to feel human? ... what an odd thing to say. you shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts, thinking much about him is like being pulled down towards the ocean in a sinking ship where gravity works against your favour. if you sink too much into him, you are afraid he might run away like he always does.
he enjoys being a enigma, a mystery to intellectuals, an illusion disgused as a puzzle waiting to be solved but when you try to touch his pieces, the illusion shatters and he disappears.
your feet stop as you stand infront of boss's room. if he sees you here, you will have to go in so you retreat hastily, walking far far away from his office because you can never walk away from the man himself.
the door is always surrounded by black shadows which make the door seem narrower and more twisted then it actually appears, two years ago you realised it's because of your fear and bad memories associated with the room that makes your vision play tricks on you whenever it falls on this door.
you walk away for hours despite only a few minutes passing before you enter the dressing rooms where many pretty yet broken women lounges, some getting ready for their shift while some relaxed and others got ready to leave this godforsaken place for good only to return tomorrow.
a few smiles greeted you but then disappeared once they noticed your drenched and sweaty state and everyone ignored you, to not humiliate you. truly it's a messed up life you guys live, isolated from the 'normal, working part of society', drained in everything intoxicating and forbidden, placed on a pedestal where some think of as a fantasy while others look at you guys with either desire or mockery.
it is a monotonous process involving only a few steps -- you entered one of the dressing rooms with a dress you grabbed from the big closets, discarding your current ones which makes you want to vomit and instead slipping into the new ones ; black shorts and a tank top of the same colour. your steps are light and almost airy when you step out and walk towards the vanity area, adjusting your makeup and combing through your hair before you are on your way out again, waving at the women who still lounged.
your hips swayed as you walked out, putting on a confident smile as you enter the people packed areas again. this is the life you live, you can't slack off for even one second no matter how much harassment or violation you go through, you have to keep on dancing on thorns so the perverts can drink your blood from your feet and throw money at you which boss greedily grabs and hides in his black hole of a heart.
from your peripheral vision you see a customer raise their hand at the sight of you, needing some kind of assistance. you shift your body to face his direction, taking two steps in his direction but not more for a slender hand wraps around your hip to pull you towards him. you look up, eyes meeting those honey brown ones which seem to always have mischief and danger dripping down them and whoever looks into it can't help but lean in to drink it greedily.
greed is very reoccurring, is it not?
"hey." he breaths out, smelling like fresh mint. he smiles down at you and it feels the entire world stilled to admire the curve of his lips, you find yourself imitating him and smiling back, a giddy itch in your heart.
"hey." you breath out too. it's no fair, he seems to always steak your breath away. he applies forces on his hand on your hip to make you walk with him, away from the customer and from everyone towards one of the private rooms which is indirectly off limits to everyone else. only he uses it, it's untouchable to anyone else.
the room is nothing much worth defining because this specific room may be the treasure where you store your good memories, the other replicas of this exact room are horrifying realities tucked close till the door opens. you know these rooms better then anyone, having stared at them for hours while greedy folks had their fill of you, drank and left you all weak on the floor but alas that's the life of a prostitute.
never a human, always desired.
are you a mere escort? a prostitute? you aren't aware of your own identity in this concealed world of sins and desires. for all you know, you might be the golden hen with a eye-catching bow on her head, one which lures pigs.
oh silly you, pigs don't eat hens.
are you sure they don't? when even a human is capable of eating another, why can't a pig eat a hen? they have been eating you for years.
"thinking something?" his voice breaks you out of the never ending labyrinth of your thoughts, you smile almost from muscle memory alone.
"does dazai-san want me to think of only him?" you speak, a well reversed stream of words which dance around you as even to him you say them without meaning to. somehow you feel as if dazai knows it as well, that you only cling to him because he offers you safety.
"that's up to you but dazai-san himself has been thinking about you." his voice is airy and playful with gaps that are filled with mystery which he weaved himself, breaking pieces of himself and starving whoever is his companion before feeding them a very tiny piece, leaving them wanting for more.
you look up at him curiously, so he answers. "i wanted to buy you flowers but would you believe all chocolate shops and bakeries are closed at this time?" he whines playfully yet why is it that all the time spend together gave you an ability to look past the thick disguises to see just how tired he looks beneath them all?
how's it even possible to present oneself as filled with energy while being exhausted to the brink of fainting from the inside?
"why would you waste your money on me -- ah, i didn't mean to sound ungrateful. i am just curious dazai-san." you speak as he walks, making you walk along with him till you two approach the couch and he doesn't make you sit on the floor, he pats the space next to him once he is seated on the couch, you obey.
"too many questions, sweetie." dazai chuckles before he tilts his head back, eyes closing as if the burdens of the world is on his shoulders, "i have my reasons."
his answer is vague, hardly an answer but you nod, placing your hands between your thighs as you look down. "dazai-san?"
"hm?"
"thank you."
"hm?"
you smile as you continue to look down, shrugging. "for letting me breath and never asking me for sex."
how horrifying must it be for one to live such life that when someone doesn't immediately ask them to strip or kneel, they are grateful and feel as if they own them something, dazai thinks. he hasn't opened his eyes yet but he extends his hand to pat your knee. "don't thank me for treating you like a basic human."
and how much irony his words hold because what does he know about humans and how they live, how they feel and how they function?
but how can one think he doesn't know all this? knowing and acting on it is a very different think from naturally being born with the instinct. that's his only fault.
his words reach a part of your heart you didn't know still existed within you, which hadn't broken down due to your situation and misfortune. said part is very fragile and weak yet extremely guarded yet his words hold equal value. the parallelism of the man you were serving before him and him is too grave to not move you. you lower your head, eyes filling with tears as you nod yet you do not cry. you never cry.
crying makes you look ugly, boss always scolds you whenever he sees a tiny little tear attempting to leave the cage which are your eyes.
"i won a race today." to anyone else it might seem like a casual comment yet to you whose every move is watched like vultures watching a poor weak lamb limp as it tries to fight against it's inevitable death, this means a lot because he's really not treating you like you are an eye candy but rather as a normal person because he knows this normalcy is something you will never get.
"you are amazing dazai-san --"
"dazai." he corrects you, sitting up as he looks at you with his head tilted, a charming boyish smile on his face which makes your stomach flutter, "no need for honorific, hm? or i will use them with you too."
no, it's not only your stomach that flutters but the lining of your stomach that folds, your intestines which squeeze and your lungs which stop functioning whenever he speaks to you because his voice is so soft and gentle it feels as if everything will be better, the bad time will pass and good will come find you, that's what his voice is.
"you are not good for my health dazai-san-- dazai." you correct yourself at the last second, smiling at how better his name sounds without having to use honorific which you only use with clients to make them feel even more superior then what they already are,. you continue, "do you do this with every girl over here?"
you turn to look at him, tears still in your eyes yet none of you comment or acknowledge them. he grins, "do what?"
"make them feel special."
"nah," he quickly shakes his head, grinning as he leans closer to tap your nose, "i only do that with my special girl."
he freezes. the grin that takes over your lips and brightens your features, which makes you look much more happier and more your age and the realisation that it's because of him makes him feel funny.
he looks down, feeling shy now as he leans his head on your shoulder, making you halt as you look down at him.
"you say all that to me yet don't you know how bad you are for my health?" he mutters in a pouty tone, making your heart do flips.
"but i am only this way with you --"
"i know." he whispers.
"it's because you make me feel comfortable and i don't feel obligated to act a certain way around yo --"
"i know." he whispers again and you huff.
"what are you? a mindreader?"
"yeah, and i can even read your mind!" dazai teases, cackling as he sees the look of skepticism on your face. it's always worth it to see your reactions. "right now, you need to close your eyes and go to sleep for a while. your brain is begging you to take a small nap." he teases, once again a cackle escapes his lips when he sees your eyes widen, it's almost comical to him.
to you, however, it's astonishing because how does he know about the pounding headache on the back of your head? is he that good at reading people? must be. these are the times where you realise how much intellect this man hides behinds his tomfoolery, the times which makes a sensible part of you scream to distance yourself from this enigmatic man.
but how can you?
oh truly, how can you!
he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you towards his chest, leaning back against the couch as he tries to find a possible position which will be comfortable for you both.
truly how can you distance yourself from him when every touch leaves your skin tingling and wanting more?
greed is inevitable and you are no God.
you fall for greed too. especially when it comes in the form of a man named dazai osamu.
as the man who has your whole attention shifts the cushions behind you both to find a specific position which will make his aching muscles to sing praises for showing them mercy, your eyes do not stray away from him, a true devoted follower.
you stare intently at his bandages emerging from deep below his neck as you wonder how he got them. he doesn't really speak much about him. you do not want to risk asking and angering him too.
"if you want to ask questions, prepare to answer some yourself too." he advices, not even looking at you yet it feels as if there is a pair of invisible eyes behind his head which are devouring your walls and masks. you nod. "how do i know it's the right time to ask?"
he pauses, a look of thought on his face though it's only a act, he quickly goes back to smoothing and adjusting the cushions as he answers, "when you have the upper hand."
you purse your lips. upper hand against someone like him? yeah, as if.
your sigh is inaudible as the advice he gave can't be used against him at all.
"hm. so much sighing from someone so young. when does your shift end again?" he asks which makes you look at the clock on the wall, "in half an hour. why?"
you look at him. his eyes are closed and a lazy smirk is on his face. "in half an hour let's go on a date. who knows how many upper hands you may receive if you do?"
his words are a trap. a bait to lure you in. you shake your head, not wanting to take unnecessary risk but the thought of being alone with boss for the night is more unpleasant, you can either sit in a room with snacks or rats.
the latter doesn't seem as dangerous as snakes but truly what's more scarier — the eye catching snake or the rats which curries away from under one's nose?
that's dazai and boss respectively. the date and being alone with boss likewise.
you blame dazai for this, ever since you began to meet with him a few months ago you began to see how disgusting boss really is, he makes your skin curl in disgust after dazai opened your eyes to what you consider normal to not be anyone else's normal.
you take your bottom lip between your upper row of teeth, sinking them onto your plush lip as you ponder while dazai removes his watch and tosses it on the glass spherical coffee table made of black marble. his moves are casual but he's a pretty snake. like a mamba.
the mamba or the rat?
"where ..... will we go?" you cautiously ask to which he hums. "a secret spot."
"your racing venue?"
"no. it's too soon for that — maybe after two or three dates i might take you there too?" he grins as he talks, eyes not opening because you know he doesn't think of you as a threat. you, however, do.
you nod. it's a date so maybe you should get ready?
as if hearing your thoughts, he shakes his head. dazai sits up and let's out a few curses when his joints pop in protest, screaming at this man who doesn't show mercy to even his own self.
"i don't want you to not enjoy yourself with me because of a headache. for now, you will sleep." he orders. it's not a advice or words spoken from worry but a prophecy in a way which will be true if you do not follow him.
what a dictator.
though you do not object for you have no reason to yet. instead you curl by his side, leaning back against his open arm. with your face against his chest, you close your eyes as the drumming of his fingers against your shoulders are a lullaby.
as your eyes close you are unable to see the pair of eyes who got their pigment from the sorrow it went through. sun lights and honey and tree trunks are all romanticized but his eyes are the colours of a abandoned and dried tree trunk which always feels as if this breath is it's last breath but then somehow the roots find water and its pulled up by the thread it's hanging on which dangles between life and death.
his fingers curl against your shoulder as he pulls you closer, shutting his eyes as his other hand is on your hip and pulls you closer by it.
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though an hour later in the starry and chilly night sky which has no witnesses apart from the coldness, you crouch on the ground and scream. "dazai!"
you close your eyes to not look at the white tiger which lunges at you to attack you, his body looking majestic under the night sky.
this was not how you expected your date to go.
101 notes · View notes
riririnnnn · 18 hours ago
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To know that Sae doesn't think he is having any kind of fight with Rin and he, in fact, watches BLTV too makes me think that this post of mine wasn't that far from the tracks.
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Yes, of course, he might not be watching BLTV solely for Rin and the reasons might also be Isagi, Shidou, Kaiser, and maybe even Lorenzo, Charles, Loki, and Noa. However, I just like to believe that he never stopped looking out for his little brother, Rin. And in a very strange way, I think he was looking out for Rin in that Snowy Night too.
First thing first, something was wrong with Sae in that flashback.
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As the saying goes, "Eyes are the window to one's soul," he looks so worn out—miserable, in fact. And I highly think that around the time of this flashback, it hadn't been that long since he lost his dream—or maybe got his dreams crushed. And I got two reasons to think this way:
To repeat my words, he looks miserable, which is a given when you lose a dream, compared to his later appearance like in the U-20 match. And judging by the timeline, the flashback and U-20 match have 1 year-ish gap which is an ample amount of time to cope up and get a hold of yourself.
Rin kept close tabs on Sae through news and all. The younger Itoshi would definitely be the one, if not the first, to know that Sae was now aiming to be the best midfielder instead of the best striker. But..
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...Rin didn't know shit.
Now, you might be wondering why in the world I'm focusing so much on the timeline, right? Like, Sae got his dreams crushed, then he return to Japan and confronted Rin—what's the big deal about it even if these events happened in a short amount of time?
...
And that's where you'd be wrong if you think this way.
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We all keep forgetting that to be the world's greatest striker was Sae's dream first before he decided to share it with Rin. Sae has been playing this sport since he was one year old. Soccer, probably, came into his life before Rin did. Rin gave his teen years to this game, but Sae has nearly given his whole life to this dream.
Now imagine yourself in Sae's position. Imagine devoting your whole childhood and teen years to something only to not be able to achieve it in the end. Won't you be devastated? Won't you be a mess? Won't you need some time to collect yourself together? Now do you understand why the timeline matters so much? And why the timeline is such a big deal? Hm?
Secondly, Sae has never been a visibly sweet person, even to Rin.
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Yes, Sae took care of Rin, but did we ever see him go, "Aww! My lil baby bro Rinnie! Cutie patootie! My baby bro <333333" Did we? He had always been rather.. emotion-less and blunt. After the above panel, too, his words were, "You can be the most amazing, after me."
He just has been like that.
Always.
That's why I have always believed that he never changed as a person, even after Spain. He has been like this from the start, which is also why I think that his harsh words in that Snowy Night was just another way of him looking out for Rin because guess who has known soccer longer? Who has gone out of Japan and seen the outside world's soccer with his own eyes?
Yeah.
In a way, Sae's dream had more weight than Rin's. The older Itoshi had soccer in front of his vision, meanwhile the younger one had his Nii-chan in front of his eyes. Despite being so focused in this sport, Sae just couldn't be it, so what makes you think Rin could've made it when his sole focus was his Nii-chan instead? Wouldn't have Rin struggled so much in the outside world with this kind of mentality?
And this is something, I think, Sae knew too—on that Snowy Night, he actually realised what Rin's real mindset was like and immediately knew that it just wasn't going to fly in the world stage. Sae was just saving Rin from the hardships he himself must've went through during his time in Spain—Sae was just looking out for Rin.
"What about those mean things he said to Rin?" you may ask, and that's exactly where the timeline comes into play—Sae was just a mess, and Rin's words were the breaking point for him.
"What words?" you may ask now, and these are the words:
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Repeating myself, eyes are the window to one's soul:
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Sae never broke his promise—Sae never stopped looking out for Rin.
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dixonsbrat · 2 days ago
Note
𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 — send in any character from my masterlist + a prompt from one of the lists ( fluff , angst , smut ) for a blurb.
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜ with babygirl daryl dixon <33
── .✦  𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 ┆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧
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𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; you see daryl smile for the first time in a while.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; daryl dixon x reader , alexandria era, just lots of fluff.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1.5k .ᐟ
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this was only supposed to be a lil blurb but i got carried away writing for my scrumdidlyumpcious mans *sighs dreamily*
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you were sitting alone on the front porch as the rest of alexandria slept soundlessly around you. the air was warm against your skin with only the slightest breeze. it was the perfect night to sit under the stars and just let yourself breathe for once.
though, the small moment of peace is interrupted when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. they were soft against the wood, yet making it creak beneath them, and you don’t need to turn to know who it was.
daryl slowly sat down beside you, sinking onto the step you were on, and leaning his head against the pillar behind him. he looked tired, more tired than usual. dark circles encapsulated his otherwise icy blue eyes, and there was a slumpiness to his shoulders.
"can't sleep?" you tilt your head to the side slightly, turning so that you too were leaning against a pillar now and facing him onward.
“nah,” he murmured, his drawl thick and heavy with exhaustion. it was clear that something was weighing down on him. perhaps the same thing that had even been disrupting his sleep.
you give it a moment to see if he would tell you what was wrong on his own accord, but this was daryl, and he wasn't one to talk about his feelings or express his troubles without prompting. he rarely spoke much anymore as it was, not compared to how he used to anyway.
watching as his gaze pans off to your surroundings, taking in the other houses along the street and the trees that were rustling in the wind, you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so stuck in his head. there was a clear distance in his eyes that you had only ever seen a few times before, but there was no telling what could be the cause of it.
eventually, you gently nudge his leg with your foot to get his attention, "what’s going on in that big ole head'o yours? and don't tell me it’s 'nothing'."
daryl’s eyes flickered towards you as you nudged his leg, as if being pulled back to reality for a brief moment. he looked away again, the darkness outside seeming to be easier to focus on than actually having to talk. he knew it was only because you cared and he, of course, didn’t want to worry you. you already worried about him enough as it was.
“it’s just…” he begins after a few moments, but stops, shaking his head. it was clear by the tension in his jaw that he was really bothered by whatever it was.
"hey, you can talk to me." you say, offering him solace for his thoughts.
he glances over at you, seeing the genuine concern in your eyes. he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid telling you, not when he knew how stubborn you could be and that you probably wouldn’t leave him alone until he gave you some sort of an explanation. he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts into words before responding.
“it’s just… it’s been a lot,” he finally mutters, his voice low and gruff in the air.
you sit forward now, no longer leaning on the pillar behind you as you rest your hands in your lap, "what has?"
he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated, though not at you. never at you. his shoulders slump a bit more and it makes him look even more exhausted. “everything,” he answers after a short pause, the word simple enough, but you knew well enough that he wasn’t talking about just his tired state. he shakes his head, looking back out towards the small settlement, not really focusing on anything in particular. “jus’ feelin’ a bit… weighed down lately. i guess.”
you nod along softly as he speaks, taking in his words and letting him know that you were listening, "is there anything i can do to help?"
he can’t help but feel a swell of warmth in his chest as you offer your assistance. you always cared so much, cared about him. it made his heart feel full for the first time in a while. but he was stubborn, and even now it was difficult for him to admit that he needed support sometimes. the feeling of being a burden loomed over him constantly as that’s what he was accused of being growing up.
he shook his head slightly, still not looking at you, though a small part of him wanted to. “you do enough,” he mumbled.
“daryl, i’m serious. what can i do to help?” you move forward on the step a little, your knees hitting his now. “do you want me to take up some of your runs? will that help make you feel better?”
his brow furrows as you press the question again, his jaw tensing. he felt stuck between letting you help and being his stubborn self that tried to push everything away. though hearing you offer to take up some of his runs, a part of him considered accepting, which surprised even himself.
he was silent for a moment before speaking again in a hushed, gruff voice, the words almost being strained from his mouth, “i don’t… i don’t wanna ask things of you.”
“don’t be silly. i care about you, and i don’t want to see you run yourself into the ground.” you place a hand on his knee and give it a little squeeze. you hated how stubborn he could be, how he always pushed away the help that he clearly so desperately needed. “you do that and then who else am i going to annoy, huh?”
daryl stiffens a bit at the touch of your hand on his knee. it’s unexpected and he could feel the warmth through his jeans. he knew you wanted to help him and he knew you cared, but he was too used to being self-sufficient. yet, there was something about you, something that made him want to let his guard down and accept you. to allow your kindness to seep through the many walls that he’d built over the years.
so, after a short pause, he lets out an exhausted sigh and the faintest smile graces his lips, “mhm, cause i’m the only one that puts up with ya.”
"okay, wow. rude." you scoff a laughter, and shove his knee with the hand that was still on it. you let out a small sigh after a moment, before meeting daryl’s gaze once more. you don’t say anything, not for a second, you just wanted to take him in. "y'know, i don't think i've ever seen you smile. not like that anyway.”
he was surprised when you shoved his knee, more surprised by the fact that he didn’t expect to enjoy it. he lets out a small huff of a laugh at your reaction. though, the moment is short lived when you mention his smile and it quickly fades, the tension from earlier returning to his jaw.
“yeah, well, i ain’t much of a smilin’ kinda guy,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.
you let your gaze fall to your lap, your fingers idly playing with a loose thread on your pants. “maybe you should be. you have a nice smile,” you shrug, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks immediately.
daryl’s heart suddenly seems to jump inside his chest at your comment, the words catching him off guard. no one had ever said that he had a nice smile before. though, coming from you, it seemed to hit him hard in a way that he had never felt before.
the smallest touch of pink spreads across his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he glances to the side, avoiding your gaze as you look back up at him. “shut up,” he mumbled under his breath, the words without any malice just more embarrassed than anything.
“i’m being serious. i like your smile,’ you admit, causing not only yours, but daryl’s heart to race even more.
the honesty in your statement causes him to look back at you, his heart slamming against his chest. the sight of how sincere you are causes his stomach to twist and yet, he feels as if he could melt into the wooden steps beneath him.
“… shut up,” he says again, though it’s said with less embarrassment and more just overwhelmed feelings, and the faintest hint of a smile returns to his lips.
you just shake your head, and roll your eyes, at his reaction. he was so cute whenever he got flustered, and you enjoyed the fact of knowing you were the one that had caused it. though, you decide not to push him any further and leave it, letting yourselves enjoy the rest of the quiet before you knew you had to eventually head back inside.
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