#just struggling with feeling excited about it

[sematarygirls]

🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time

cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint

       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.

The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.

You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.

He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.

You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.

"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.

"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."

"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.

"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.

"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.

He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.

"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."

Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.

The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.

His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.

"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.

"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.

You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.

Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.

"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."

Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.

"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.

"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.

"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.

Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3

also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[orikixx]

Wrong Number, Right Recipe (8/?)

Pt. 8

<<pervious part

Featuring: Satoru Gojo

Warnings: smutty, reader is afab, wc- 1.5k

Summary: strangers to friends to lovers! An accidental text from the wrong number leads to the meeting of you and satoru gojo, a baker from the pastry shop down the street of your office.

Author’s note: hi guys! I hope this is alright, I haven’t actually written anything down in so long so I kinda struggled with this😓 next part will be a smau, and hopefully part 11 will finish the series as another written down version. Hope you guys like it nonetheless! 💕

Saturday, 10:23

You’re currently seated atop of satoru’s kitchen counter, patiently waiting for him to finish cutting up some fresh fruits to go with the breakfast you’ve brought. He insisted that you stay with him all day, selling it off as a way to help you get back on your feet, and you aren’t complaining.

The memories of the previous night were flooding satoru’s mind. That must be the reason he’s got his torso pressed up again the kitchen counter, trying to calm down his raging boner as you sit there, looking at him all wide eyed and sweet. He can’t stop thinking about you, the way your supple ass brushed against him as you cuddled while watching some movie, making him almost combust right on the spot.

He’s gripping that poor kiwi way too tightly for his own liking, the fruit almost exploding under his hold.

“Is there something wrong satoru?” Your voice brings him out of his daze, and he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Satoru shakes his head, trying to play it off cool as he gives you a casual smile. He finishes plating up the fruits, and you two sit down and eat the warm pastries and his wobbly-looking cut up kiwis and strawberries.

“I had this thought, you know?” You say teasingly, taking a bite of your croissant as satoru looks at you patiently. “What if.. I got a matching sonic onesie? I mean, a matching one, like knuckles or shadow..” the words spill out of your mouth, nervously rambling on and on. There’s very visible blush creeping up your cheeks, surprisingly embarrassed over such a simple interaction with your friend.

Satoru bursts out laughing, almost spitting out everything that’s in his mouth. “You’re so ridiculous” is what you expected him to say, only he didn’t. He pulled out his phone, and told you to order it using his card. You stared at him, shock written all over your face.

“Wait, are you serious?” “Yeah, why not? It’ll be hilarious,” satoru said with a grin, pushing his phone toward you. “Just pick one. It’s no big deal.” You sigh, eventually giving in and taking his phone. You lean over the table to show satoru the various options, yet all he’s capable of noticing is how perfectly your tits are squeezed against the wooden surface, and how close your face is to his as your fingers excitedly tap his phone.

His stare must’ve been too obvious, since you put his phone down, yet your face remain close to his as you examine him. Satoru almost gasps when your finger comes up to his cheek, gently wiping off a lingering chocolate smear. He thinks he might pass out, his face must be so red as he’s eye to eye with you, and you give him a soft smile when you’re satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned him up.

Satoru currently stares at you like some idiot, open mouthed and not a single thought behind his eyes as you gently clean him. Your mind however, is buzzing with excitement. He smells so good up close, although just getting out of bed. He smells like cedar wood and vanilla, making you stall for a moment longer than necessary.

In that second, satoru feels his resolve melting away, and he can’t help himself but kiss you. It’s sudden and uncomfortable, leaning over the table, but it’s also so warm and comforting, his lips fitting perfectly against yours. You gasp, and he realizes what he’s done. Leaning back, satoru feels his ears burning in embarrassment, blush creeping up his neck. “I’m so sorry oh my gosh, I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came ov-“ and your lips are smashing against his again.

This time, he’s the one to gasp into the kiss, but he quickly leans into it. Satoru brings his hand to cup your cheek, and he breaks the kiss when you lean into his touch. “fuck YEAH”, he yells out, his heart almost exploding out of his chest. You’re panting, cheeks dusted pink, and the only sound you can hear is the thrumming of your heart in your chest.

Satoru stands up and quickly circles the table, easily picking you up in his arms as you squeal. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea y/n,” “let me down!” “Not until I get another kiss”. You pout, and oh so reluctantly wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him again. Once he’s satisfied, he gently lets you back down onto the floor.

“Now that we’ve established that, are you finally going to order your onesie? My wallet is aching for you,” satoru says teasingly as he starts washing the dishes the both of you have used. You sigh and pick his phone back up, ordering yourself a matching shadow onesie.

It’s noon now, and you’re back in your pjs sprawled out on satoru’s couch. He sits beside you, gently stroking your hair as your head rests at his lap. “Satoru,” you mumble, eyes closed as you feel tiredness washing over you. “Yes sweets?” He answers, and you feel your lips curling up in a small smile at the nickname. “Can I get a kiss?” You almost whisper, too embarrassed to even look up at him. “Can’t hear you, pretty girl.” “I said, can I get a kiss?” You ask louder now, desperate, almost whining.

“Toru!” you yelp out, your heart skipping a bit as he easily repositions you, so now you’re straddling his lap. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your ears burning in embarrassment at how easily he can handle you. “Wanted a kiss, didn’t you?” He asks rather rhetorically, his hands resting at your hips, grounding you down onto his torso. “Don’t be so shy around me y/n, I know you must’ve been dreaming about this just as much as I did”, he says teasingly, one of his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke the bare skin. You scoff, yet finally kiss him. Your hands are cupping his cheeks, trying to pull him impossibly closer as his tongue enters your mouth.

You gasp, hands immediately finding purchase in his hair, tugging on the soft locks. Satoru moans into the kiss, his hands moving to squeeze your ass while he desperately grinds his growing erection into you. You quickly break the kiss, gasping for air, yet satoru won’t stop slowly grinding his hips against yours. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, and you let out a soft mewl when his erection rubs against your clit, the thin fabric of your shorts doing absolutely nothing to stop the friction.

“You’re driving me crazy y/n, you- fuck, you look so heavenly like this, just begging for me to worship you” satoru whimpers into your shoulder, his lips kissing a trail up to your neck. “T-toru!” You moan softly, fingers tugging on the white strands as he sucks that sweet spot on your neck, simultaneously thrusting up against you. You can feel the wetness soaking through your flimsy shorts, probably leaving a stain on his gray sweats. Suddenly his lips aren’t at your neck anymore, his head leaning back, resting against the couch as he breathes heavily.

“Are you sure you want to do this right now? You haven’t even slept all night”, satoru says worriedly. You can spot the genuine care in his eyes, yet his tone is so whiny, he’s actually so desperate for you and he can’t even hide it. You simply sit there for a moment, dumbfounded, until finally the adrenaline wears off, and the earlier wave of tiredness washes over you again. You groan and wiggle in his grip, until his stubborn hands finally let go of your ass. You stand up and reach out to him, offering him your hand so he can join you in bed.

He groans as well, taking your hand in his as he gets up. Satoru quickly rushes you to bed, pulling the covers on top of both of you. His long limbs wrap around you, not leaving you any space, but you’re okay with that, smiling and humming happily as he buries his face in your hair and sighs. Finally, the both of you can rest comfortably, or at least until your onesie arrives.

Divider credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Taglist: @thulhu @heiejdhdh @needtoloveoutloud @jurrasicpork @sorenflyinn @twinkling-moonlillie @realalpacorn @lastbreathtaken @zayuriluvs @logoleptic-since-06 @whore4dilfs0 @whozeurdaddy @fhfnejd @maddietries @s4ikooo1 @des-todoroki

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Rio: babe are you ready?!

Agatha appearing dressed in pyjamas: I’m not going

Rio: Seriously? But you were so excited

Agatha: I just don’t feel like it anymore

Rio:….does this have anything to do with what I told you before?

Agatha: Oh you mean when you told me you and Hela had lived together and slept together? Yeah that!

Rio rolling her eyes: It was about 40 years after I started dating you I didn’t think we were serious!

Agatha: Listen I’m not mad you slept with hela when we first started dating

Rio: You’re not? Then why are you angry?

Agatha: Because you didn’t invite me to join

Rio: Hold on…you’re mad at me not because I technically cheated on you, something that I’ve regretted for years and struggled to get off my chest to you but for not inviting you to have threesomes with us?

Agatha: Yes! Exactly!

Rio:…So do you still want to sleep with her?

Agatha shrugs: I guess, she’s still hot

Rio: Okay one minute *pulls out her phone and starts texting and gets a response instantly*

Rio: Okay, she’s up for it, and so is Thena

Agatha: Oh

Rio: What now?

Agatha: Thena and I aren’t really on speaking terms since I fought her and took some of her powers

Rio: We are such disaster lesbians it’s almost embarrassing

Agatha: Hey I’m ready to bury the hatchet if she is, I’d love a go at some goddesses

Rio:…what the hell, get dressed and we’ll go

Agatha: Yay! This is going to be so much more fun than dinner

[marauders1971-1978]

This is the post I channel for James' characterisation for years 1-3

The dormitory grew brighter around him at a snail’s pace, the weak Autumn light struggling through the flat, white cloud cover. Remus was exhausted and frustrated, but still, infuriatingly awake. He gave up trying to get any rest and clambered over to the bottom of his bed to pull out a book from his trunk to read until it was a reasonable time to be up. 

His eyelids were just drooping over his copy of The Wishing Chair, Again that he’d brought from home to lend to Lily when something heavy and unexpected dropped onto his legs. 

“Morning!” James whispered over Remus’ grunt of pain. He was beaming, and looked like he’d slept outside in a hurricane. 

“Yeah, morning.” Remus pulled his legs from under James, lest he break them, and put his book to one side. “You’re up early.”

“I suppose. Hey, sorry to spring this on you, but I forgot to ask yesterday with all the excitement. Are you a werewolf?”

Remus lunged forward and clapped his hand over James’ mouth, looking over to his left in a panic. Peter was still snoring. 

“Jesus Christ, James, shut up.” 

James pried Remus’ hand away from his mouth and grimaced apologetically. 

“Sorry mate,” James apologised, keeping his voice hushed. “Anyway, you are, aren’t you? I double-checked the lunar charts over summer-”

“James, are you mental?” Remus groaned. He couldn’t take much more anxiety in one night. “What do you mean, you were ‘checking lunar charts’? It’s like, five in the morning - why are you asking me this right now?”

James looked horrified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I was so sure I was right - I suppose that was a bit presumptuous. Please, ignore what I said, I’m so sorry-”

“No, you’re right, it’s just that-”

“Wait, I’m right ?”

Remus wanted to obliterate himself on the spot. What an idiot. 

Well, he supposed at least he could stop worrying about it now. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

He stole a tentative glance at James, expecting disgust, or horror, or fear. Instead, he looked… smug?

“ Knew it!” he hissed. “I’m such a great detective. Sirius isn’t going to believe that I figured it out before him-”

Remus couldn’t believe his ears. Was it simply that James hadn’t thought of the reality of what he’d discovered? Perhaps it was still all a game of Cluedo to him. Perhaps, once he’d had a few minutes for the horror of what he’d said to sink in, he’d go straight to Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore, and ask that Remus be housed elsewhere, or expelled, for their own safety. 

And he’d be right to. 

Remus flinched as a hand waved before his eyes, far too close to his face. 

“Hey, Lupin. You okay there?”

Remus blinked at him, waving his hand away. He didn’t want to touch him. 

“Am I okay?”

James huffed. “You keep just repeating me.” James seemed to stop, pull the breaks on his own train of thought, and really look at Remus for the first time since he’d sat on the bed. Remus could feel his eyes searching him. “Sorry. I think I’ve made a mistake.” 

There it was.

“I’ve really freaked you out, haven’t I?”

Freaked him out?

“I bet it’s been really hard for you, you tried to keep it a secret. And here I am blabbing away about it. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can keep a secret, I promise. Especially for a friend.”

Remus refused to cry for the third time that day, so he leaned forward and hugged James roughly, before he could think twice about it. James squeezed him back.

BONUS - Peter

“I guess this is about the werewolf thing?”

Remus snapped his head up, bashing his forehead on James’ chin as he did. Peter stood beside the bed, sleepy eyed. Remus rubbed his head and looked bewildered at Peter. 

“How do you know?” He asked, incredulous. 

“You were sick at the full moon and your scars don’t heal,” Peter shrugged. “I supposed you were trying to keep it a secret, so I didn’t say anything. Seems like that’s over and done with now though.” He smiled up at him and Remus felt his chest ache like someone had reached inside him and squeezed his heart. 

How did he deserve this?

James unlatched himself from Remus and huffed at Peter. “Wait, when did you figure this out? I thought it’d gotten it first?”

“No way, I figured it out end of last year - I’m sure you only put it together in the holidays-”

“That’s not true, I was just double checking! I knew last year-”

“You did not, you’re a liar-”

Remus: Oh no. You don’t want to befriend me. I’m a handful.

James: [excitedly] I have two hands!!!

[ippipo]

self aware caleb? yummy

part 1

you were in deep concentration when you heard a grunt coming from your phone while studying with caleb. he was staring at you from the phone, which you assumed was a glitch in the game.

"caleb, honey, if you make sounds like that just as i finally concentrate i swear to god i'll throw you across the room," you threaten him playfully, totally unaware that he understood every word that you said.

you return to focusing on your textbook, trying to regain the ability to pay complete attention to it. his eyebrows pinch together. who was this girl, and why was he seeing her? he was unaware if you were danger or not, you did just threaten him.

he waited until he heard a ding, watching you sigh. "finally, i finished studying. let's get me some food," you speak to him, confusing him even more. "who are you?" he asks, his tone was cautious.

"what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?" you panic. you stare in all directions, blissfully ignorant to the device in your hand. you finally looked at your phone and caleb is closer to the screen now. "nah, i must be dreaming," you snicker and go to the kitchen.

he was annoyed now. "no, you are not," he confirms your suspicion. "caleb? what the fuck?"

"yeah, that's my name. who are you and why am I able to see you?" he asks you with more aggression this time. you read stories about these things but never really imagined them to happen. and you did what you thought you would do while reading them instead of freaking out. explain to him your world, of course. but you were so close to pissing your pants, partly from excitement. but this was a dream come true, were you really gonna waste it on some stupid sense of fear?

"this is gonna take a while, buddy. you might wanna sit down for this," you say with a sigh, motioning him to sit down.

you told him about your world, and how magic and superpowers don't exist and how he was in a game. it took you about an hour. he was attentive, listening to every word you were saying, not taking his eyes off of you.

"so....to summarise it up, i'm an otome game character and that girl from my childhood is not real either. just not aware?" he asks, you nod. "the creators are so cruel, man. why would they make a cool guy like me go through that?" he remarks, a grin etched onto his face despite the sadness behind that statement.

"i don't feel anything towards her now, though," he states while scratching his nape, feeling lost. "i guess you aren't my love interest anymore, aw." he remained quiet at that statement, wondering what happens now. sure, he was attracted to the person he was talking with right now. but wouldn't it end tragically if he were to fall for you?

pushing those thoughts aside, he was curious about the real world, "how are the people there?" he asks you. "they're......cruel. but the people around me now are pretty alright, i don't go out much because i prefer staying at home," you reply.

"cruel? how so?" he questions, unconvinced with your answer. he was expecting the world to be better, without deception and unfortunate circumstances. "for starters, women here are still struggling, being treated disgustingly, racism is more prevalent than ever, the nazis are somewhat back, some orange white capitalist dude is ruining an already ruined country, and everyone's suffering," you finally take a breath.

you watch caleb's conflicted expression, regretting info-dumping on him so much. "so it's the same like here," he trails off. "it's still as shitty as here," he completes.

"don't think so, your world seems slightly better. i think i would be scared of walking alone at night because of wanderers instead of men," you state. he felt bad for you, and a familiar protective feeling resurfaces, the one he was conditioned to feel for the girl in the game now felt for you.

it was weird how he no longer recognized whoever that was. "i feel like i know you more than the character in here," he confesses. "well, she's basically me. although the personality is different, her name and stuff is basically mine."

caleb sighs in relief. it brought him some comfort knowing you were controlling it, not him involuntarily falling for someone he didn't know consciously.

"this sucks, i would rather be there with you," he reveals. he probably didn't know that made your heart flutter just a teeny tiny bit. just a little bit. "don't say stuff like that," you warn him. "hm? why?"

"i've read stories like this and they always end painfully. you'll start wanting to be with me because of my amazing gorgeous personality and eventually we'll do the boom boom pow online. suddenly you'll wanna do it with me, then you'll visit me and you'll have to choose between that world or this world. then you'll realize this world sucks and you'll have to give up our love. you'll go along with the mc and i'll end up missing that ding-a-ling," a shit-eating grin made its way onto your face. you felt proud of yourself.

he suddenly starts laughing at the way you worded the whole thing. "you're really something," he says making you snort. "i won't fall in love with you, i'm not that dumb," he states. you ignore the soft clench in your heart.

"are you sure you can resist all this, baby?" you flip your hair and wink at him. he rubs his ears to hide the redness, which was an unusual movement because his character never did that.

"positive, baby," he flirts back. it was your time to blush now. you clear your throat in embarrassment, "wanna see me cook?" you look at him hopefully, wanting to show off your skills. "i'll cook along too," he says.

he moves to his kitchen, the view to you was like as if you were on a video call. the screen showing you things in the game you wouldn't normally be able to see.

you hear a knock on your front door. "hey, lemme just check that and come back," you tell him before going to the door. your neighbour wanted some salad dressing. he was a fairly tall, good looking guy. he was married though, and he carried his ring around everywhere.

caleb watches the stranger waltz into your kitchen. his brows furrow in discontent. he didn't like the idea of you letting in another man into your house. he pinches himself and finally snaps out of it. 'you just met her properly for the first time, loser. control.'

the neighbour thankfully doesn't notice the animated but realistic man on your phone glaring at him. "thanks," the man smiles at you and leaves your house. "who was that?" caleb finally asks the question he was itching to ask. "my neighbour, he's making salad for his husband," you casually mention, unaware of the relief he felt. he was married, perfect.

you turn your back towards the camera and bend down to pick up a spoon that fell earlier. your ass on full display to him, well, not exactly, you had some shorts on. you didn't realize it, despite being an incredibly self-aware person. but caleb got the biggest loser boner ever.

he shifts in his place uncomfortably. "caleb, are you okay?" you ask with concern. "yes, great actually," he skillfully covers it up with a cough. "just getting used to not following a script."

this was gonna take a while.

[pinkmoontaco]

Crossroads of Fate || Bangchan

Pairing: Idol Bangchan X Songwriter Y/n Genre: Romance/Angst Plot: BangChan reunites with his first love, now an award-winning songwriter, when Stray Kids is assigned one of her songs for their comeback. As they collaborate, old feelings resurface, but both struggle with the changes fame and time have brought to their lives. With conflicting schedules, unresolved past conflicts, and the pressures of being in the public eye, they must decide if their love story deserves a second chance. Author's Note: Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts and comments—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys. And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of the soundboard. Bang Chan leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the desk as he studied the empty monitor. Deadlines loomed like storm clouds, but his mind was elsewhere. The announcement of their next comeback track had sent waves of excitement through the team, but for Chan, it carried an unexpected weight.

It wasn’t just any song.

The songwriter’s name had been highlighted in bold letters on the file his manager handed him a week ago. Y/N. A name he hadn’t spoken aloud in years, but one that lingered in his memory like a melody he couldn’t forget.

“Hyung?” Han’s voice broke through Chan’s thoughts as he peeked into the room. “We’re heading out for dinner. You coming?”

Chan shook his head. “Not tonight. I have to prep for tomorrow.”

Han shrugged but didn’t push further. “Don’t overwork yourself,” he said before disappearing down the hallway.

Chan sighed, glancing at the clock. Tomorrow’s meeting wasn’t just about the song—it was a reunion with the person who had written it. A person he hadn’t seen since she’d walked out of his life all those years ago.

The next day, the conference room buzzed with energy. The entire Stray Kids lineup sat around the long table, chatting excitedly about the new track. Chan, however, remained quieter than usual, fiddling with a pen in his hand.

The door opened, and all eyes turned toward the figure stepping inside.

Y/N.

She looked different, yet the same. Her posture was confident, her expression calm, but Chan caught the faint flicker of hesitation in her gaze. She scanned the room, pausing briefly when her eyes met his. It was just a second—long enough to stir the ache in his chest that he thought he’d buried.

“Thank you all for having me,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with nervous energy. “I’ve been a fan of your work, and I’m excited to collaborate on this project.”

The members greeted her warmly, breaking the ice with their usual lighthearted banter. Chan stayed silent, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

As the meeting progressed, Y/N explained the inspiration behind the song. Her words were professional, but to Chan, every lyric she described felt like a reflection of their shared past. He wondered if the others noticed or if he was the only one reading between the lines.

When the meeting ended, the members filed out, leaving Chan and Y/N alone in the room.

“You’ve come a long way,” she said, breaking the silence.

“So have you,” he replied, his voice softer than he intended.

For a moment, they stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

“About the song—” Chan started, but she cut him off.

“Let’s keep it professional,” Y/N said quickly, her tone firm but not unkind. “It’s better that way.”

Chan nodded, though her words stung. “Right. Professional.”

As she walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts, Chan couldn’t help but wonder if working together would be their chance to reconcile or if it would only deepen the distance between them.

Chan lingered in the now-empty conference room, staring at the notes Y/N had left on the whiteboard. The melody she'd described echoed in his mind. It was haunting yet beautiful—so distinctly her. His fingers itched to bring it to life, but a heavier thought weighed him down.

“Let’s keep it professional.”

Her words replayed in his mind like a broken record. After all these years, was that really all they could be?

The door creaked open, breaking his spiral of thoughts. Seungmin poked his head in, his usual deadpan expression in place.

“Hyung, we’re all in the practice room. Y/N noona said she’d stop by after she checks something with the staff,” he said casually.

“Noona, huh?” Chan muttered, half-smiling.

“Isn’t she older than you? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to call her?” Seungmin said with a shrug. “She’s cool, though. Don’t be weird about it.”

Chan chuckled despite himself. “I’m not being weird.”

“You’re always weird.”

“Get out of here before I make you practice alone,” Chan shot back, though his tone was playful. Seungmin left with a smirk, and Chan finally pushed himself out of his chair, grabbing his notebook and heading for the practice room.

Y/N stood just outside the room, scrolling through her phone as Chan approached. She looked up when she sensed his presence.

“Heading to practice?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

“Yeah. You’re coming in, right?” he replied, holding the door open for her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Just to observe. I don’t want to interrupt.”

Inside, the members were in their usual chaotic state. Minho was leaning against the mirrors, chatting with Jeongin, while Han and Hyunjin playfully fought over whose choreography idea was better. The moment Y/N stepped in, the room seemed to shift.

“Noona!” Han called out cheerfully, waving her over. “You’re here! Come judge our moves.”

Hyunjin grinned, brushing his hair back dramatically. “I already know noona’s going to pick me. I’m the main dancer after all.”

“Don’t embarrass yourselves,” Minho teased, smirking as he leaned against the mirror. “Noona just got here.”

Y/N blinked, slightly taken aback by their easy familiarity, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You guys are a lively bunch.”

“Always,” Jeongin said with a bright smile. “Noona, don’t listen to Hyunjin. He’s all talk.”

Chan leaned against the doorway, watching the interaction unfold. It was strange seeing Y/N in this setting, surrounded by his members and fitting in so seamlessly. He’d always imagined how she might’ve interacted with them if things had been different.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Chan finally said, clapping his hands to gather their attention. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

As practice began, Y/N took a seat in the corner, observing with quiet focus. She occasionally scribbled notes into her notebook, but her gaze often drifted toward Chan.

He was in his element, leading the group with his usual mix of authority and warmth. His movements were sharp, his voice steady as he gave instructions. It reminded her of the boy she’d known back then—the one who dreamed of standing on stages but always made time to support her dreams, too.

“Noona, what do you think?” Hyunjin called out after a particularly intricate run-through of the choreography.

Y/N glanced up, realizing all eyes were on her. She cleared her throat. “It’s good. Clean, but…”

“But?” Han pressed, grinning.

“I think you can hit the beats a bit sharper here,” she said, gesturing to a specific section. “It’ll match the vibe of the song better.”

The group murmured their agreement, nodding thoughtfully.

“See, I told you she’s good,” Jeongin whispered to Hyunjin, who rolled his eyes.

Chan approached her during a break, holding out a water bottle. “They’re taking to you well,” he said.

She accepted the bottle with a small smile. “They’re a good group. Talented, too. You’ve done well with them.”

“They’re the ones who make it easy,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her. “You… You’ve done well for yourself, too. Your name’s everywhere these days.”

She laughed softly, a sound that tugged at his heart. “It’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Is that what you call it? Peace?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. She glanced away, pretending to focus on the members as they joked with one another. “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

Before Chan could respond, Han called out, “Hyung! Stop hogging noona and get back here. We need your opinion.”

Chan sighed but gave her a small nod. “We’re not done talking,” he said quietly before walking away.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to have that conversation—if she could face the memories she’d locked away for so long.

But one thing was clear: being around Bang Chan again was stirring feelings she thought she’d buried for good.

The room was alive with laughter as the members continued to practice, but Bang Chan’s focus was elsewhere. He watched Y/N from across the room, noting the way her gaze lingered on the group with a mix of pride and nostalgia. It was a look he recognized—one she’d often worn back when their lives were simpler, before the weight of their choices had pulled them apart.

Her voice was still ringing in his ears: “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

The words triggered something in him, unlocking a door he hadn’t dared open in years.

Flashback: The Trainee Days

“Chan, you’re gonna blow the speakers if you keep cranking it up like that!” Y/N’s voice broke through the pounding bass, laughter lacing her words. She leaned against the doorway of the small practice room, her arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Sorry, noona,” Chan said sheepishly, reaching for the volume knob. “I was just trying to get the bass to match the melody.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping inside with the casual ease of someone who practically lived there. Her hoodie was too big, her hair tied in a messy bun, but to Chan, she looked perfect.

“You’re such a perfectionist,” she teased, plopping down beside him on the floor. “Not everything has to be perfect, you know. Sometimes it’s the flaws that make it special.”

“Easy for you to say,” he replied, grinning. “Your vocals are always flawless. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to make sure my beats don’t sound like garbage.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re too hard on yourself, Chan. You’re better than you think.”

Her words always had a way of grounding him, of making him believe in himself even when self-doubt threatened to take over. It was one of the many reasons he’d fallen for her.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the equipment. Then, she broke it.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like? When we debut?”

“All the time,” Chan admitted. “But it’s scary, too. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we don’t make it?”

“You will,” she said firmly. “I know you will. You’re too talented, too driven not to.”

He turned to look at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost overwhelming. “What about you?” he asked quietly.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” she said after a long pause. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this. The competition, the pressure… it’s a lot.”

“You’re cut out for it,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ve got everything it takes, noona. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Chan.”

They didn’t need to say more. The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind that only came with understanding and trust.

But looking back, Chan would always remember that moment—the moment he realized how much she meant to him, and how terrified he was of losing her.

Back to the Present

“Hyung, you good?” Felix’s voice jolted Chan back to the present.

“Huh?” He blinked, realizing he’d been staring into space.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Felix said with a concerned smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Chan said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Just… thinking.”

“About noona?” Han teased, leaning on Felix’s shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’ve been stealing glances at her all day.”

Chan shot him a warning look, but it was too late. The rest of the members had caught on, and the teasing began in earnest.

“Hyung’s got history with noona, doesn’t he?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tell us, tell us!” Jeongin chimed in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Chan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can we focus on practice, please?”

The members laughed but let it go, and Chan stole another glance at Y/N. She was focused on her notebook, oblivious to the chaos around her.

He wondered if she remembered that night in the practice room as vividly as he did. Or if, for her, it was just another forgotten chapter in a story she’d already moved on from.

The members were busy working on a choreography run-through, giving Bang Chan a moment to slip out of the practice room unnoticed. His chest felt tight, his emotions tangled as his thoughts drifted further into the past. He leaned against the hallway wall, staring at the ceiling as memories flooded his mind.

Flashback: The Night She Left

It was late—past midnight, though neither of them seemed to care. The JYP building was silent except for the faint creak of the floors and the hum of fluorescent lights. Chan had texted Y/N to meet him in the practice room, and now he stood there, pacing, waiting for her to arrive.

When the door finally opened, she stepped in, her usual bright expression subdued. The oversized hoodie she wore dwarfed her frame, and her hair was tucked under a cap as if she were trying to disappear.

“Hey,” she said softly, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” Chan replied, though his voice was tinged with unease. He stopped pacing, turning to face her. “What’s going on? You sounded… weird in your text.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan’s stomach churned. He had known her long enough to recognize the look in her eyes—the way her walls were slowly going up, shutting him out.

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “Talk to me.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as if bracing herself for impact. “I’m leaving, Chan.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m quitting the trainee program,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m not debuting. I can’t do this anymore.”

Chan stared at her, disbelief written all over his face. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best trainees here! Everyone knows that. Why would you—”

“It doesn’t matter how good I am,” she interrupted, her tone sharp but pained. “This life… it’s not for me, Chan. The endless hours, the pressure, the constant comparisons… I can’t keep up. I thought I could, but I was wrong.”

“But you’ve worked so hard,” he argued, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ve been here longer than almost anyone! You’ve sacrificed so much—why give up now?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “Because I’m tired, Chan. Tired of feeling like I’m never enough. Tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

Chan took a step closer, his heart racing. “You are enough, Y/N. You’ve always been enough. If you’re struggling, we can figure it out together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her gaze softened at his words, but she shook her head. “You don’t get it. You’re different, Chan. You thrive here. This is where you’re meant to be. But me? I feel like I’m suffocating.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling over. “So that’s it? You’re just… walking away? From everything? From me?”

Her breath hitched, and for the first time, her composure cracked. “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she pleaded. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I need to find a life where I can breathe again.”

Chan felt a lump rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “When?” he asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“Tomorrow?” His voice broke. “You weren’t even going to tell me until now?”

“I didn’t know how,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t face you.”

Chan closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. When he opened them again, they were filled with pain. “Do you know how much I care about you?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you even realize what you’re walking away from?”

Her lip quivered, but she stood her ground. “I care about you too, Chan. More than you know. But that’s why I have to leave. If I stay, I’ll only drag you down with me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Goodbye, Chan,” she said finally, her voice breaking.

And just like that, she walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his heart shattered into pieces.

Back to the Present

Chan let out a shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his face. Even after all these years, the memory of that night still stung like an open wound. He had tried to move on, to bury the pain and focus on his dreams. But seeing Y/N again had brought everything rushing back.

He pushed off the wall, forcing himself to return to the practice room. When he walked in, the members were laughing about something Y/N had said. She looked up as he entered, her smile fading slightly when their eyes met.

Chan forced a small smile, but inside, he felt like he was standing at a crossroads again.

This time, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive losing her twice.

Y/N sat in the corner of the practice room, her notebook balanced on her lap. The sounds of Stray Kids rehearsing filled the space around her—an intricate mix of synchronized movements and playful banter that reminded her why she had loved this world once.

Her pen hovered above the page, but her thoughts were far from the notes she was supposed to be taking. Every time her gaze flickered to Bang Chan, her chest tightened with a mix of emotions she couldn’t name.

How does he do it? she wondered. How does he still look so steady, so sure of himself, after all these years?

She didn’t regret leaving—not exactly. But being here, in the same room as him, made her question everything she’d told herself since that night.

Flashback: After She Left

The day she walked away from the trainee program, Y/N felt like a ghost. She had packed her things in silence, avoiding the eyes of the friends she’d made and the staff who had believed in her. She couldn’t bear their questions, their pity, or the disappointment that would surely follow.

When she stepped outside the JYP building for what she knew would be the last time, the air felt colder, sharper. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—Chan’s name lighting up the screen.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead, she turned off her phone and slipped it into her bag, hoping the silence would numb the ache in her chest.

For weeks, she avoided looking at anything related to JYP, idol groups, or the industry altogether. She threw herself into other pursuits, trying to fill the void that music had left behind. But no matter how hard she tried, the memories lingered.

She missed the late-night practices, the camaraderie, the way her heart would race when she stepped into a recording booth. And more than anything, she missed him.

I did the right thing, she told herself every time the doubts crept in. I wasn’t strong enough for that life.

But even as the years passed and her career as a songwriter began to flourish, the guilt never fully disappeared.

Back to the Present

“Y/N noona, what do you think?” Han’s cheerful voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She blinked, realizing that the group had finished their run-through and were now looking at her expectantly.

“It’s good,” she said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Really good. But I think you could emphasize the transitions more—make them feel smoother so they match the flow of the song.”

The members nodded thoughtfully, murmuring to each other about adjustments they could make.

“Good catch, noona,” Hyunjin said with a grin. “You’ve got a sharp eye.”

Y/N smiled faintly, her heart warming at their easy acceptance of her. It felt strange, being called “noona” by a group of idols who had risen to international stardom. She admired their talent, their passion, and the bond they clearly shared.

But her gaze kept drifting back to Chan.

He was quieter than she remembered, his playful energy tempered by a calm maturity that suited him. Yet beneath his composure, she could sense the tension—like he was holding back words he didn’t know how to say.

During a break, she slipped out of the practice room, needing a moment to herself. The hallway was empty, and she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.

Her mind wandered back to their conversation earlier:

“You’ve come a long way.”

“So have you.”

The way he’d looked at her—like he was trying to piece together who she was now—made her chest ache. She had wanted to tell him everything: how much she had missed him, how often she’d thought about him, and how hard it had been to walk away.

But she couldn’t. Not now.

The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. She opened her eyes to find Chan standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

He hesitated, then took a step closer. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend everything’s fine when it’s not,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers. “I know you, Y/N. Better than you think.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, all the walls she’d built around herself felt like they might crumble.

“Chan…” she started, her voice faltering.

He waited, his patience unwavering. But before she could say more, the sound of someone calling his name echoed down the hallway.

“Hyung, we need you!”

Chan sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there!” he called back.

When he turned back to her, his expression softened. “This isn’t over,” he said quietly.

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone with the weight of everything she couldn’t bring herself to say.

Y/N stood frozen in the hallway long after Chan had gone. His words echoed in her mind: “This isn’t over.”

She wanted to believe him. Part of her even wanted to let herself hope that they could go back to the way things were before she’d walked away. But the years had changed them both, and she wasn’t sure if they were still the same people who had sat in that small practice room late at night, sharing their dreams and fears.

She sighed, shaking her head as if to clear it. Focus on work, Y/N. That’s why you’re here.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed back to the practice room. When she entered, the members were scattered across the floor, catching their breath after another run-through.

“Noona, you’re back!” Jeongin called out, grinning.

“Of course,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You didn’t think I’d leave without finishing, did you?”

“Never,” Han teased. “But you did miss Chan hyung trying to demonstrate a move and almost falling flat on his face.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Y/N’s gaze instinctively found Chan. He was sitting on the floor, a water bottle in hand, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said, looking at her with a lopsided smile. “I was fine.”

Y/N arched a brow, her playful side slipping through despite herself. “You sure? Should I call a medic?”

The members laughed even harder, and Chan shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. “No need, noona. I’ll survive.”

For a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by a warmth that felt almost familiar.

Practice wrapped up just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Y/N gathered her things, preparing to leave, when a voice stopped her.

“Y/N.”

She turned to see Chan standing by the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. The others had already left, leaving them alone in the room.

“Walk with me?” he asked, his tone careful, almost hesitant.

Y/N hesitated, her instinct to say no warring with the part of her that longed to talk to him. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”

They walked in silence at first, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. The building was quiet now, a stark contrast to the lively energy of earlier.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Chan began, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “What I said?”

“About how you’ve changed,” he clarified. “How this isn’t your world anymore.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s true. I’ve been out of it for so long… I don’t think I’d even know how to fit back in.”

“You don’t have to fit back in,” he said gently. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong here.”

Y/N stopped walking, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. “Chan, I left because I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t strong enough. You don’t understand—”

“I do understand,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Do you think I haven’t felt that way? That I haven’t questioned if I’m good enough or strong enough to keep going?”

She looked at him, startled by the raw vulnerability in his expression.

“We all have those moments,” he continued. “But you didn’t leave because you were weak, Y/N. You left because you were brave enough to choose what you needed, even if it hurt.”

His words hit her harder than she expected, and she had to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

“I missed you,” she admitted softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “I missed you too.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions. Y/N wanted to say so much—to explain, to apologize, to tell him how often she’d thought about him. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Do you regret it?” Chan asked suddenly.

She looked at him, her breath catching. “Regret what?”

“Leaving,” he said quietly.

She hesitated, the answer swirling in her mind. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be who I am now. And I wouldn’t be standing here, talking to you.”

Chan nodded slowly, his gaze searching hers. “Maybe it was meant to happen this way,” he said. “Maybe we needed time to grow on our own before we could find each other again.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, but this time, it wasn’t a painful ache—it was something softer, something that felt like hope.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there for a moment longer, the space between them charged with possibilities. And for the first time in years, Y/N allowed herself to believe that second chances might be worth taking.

The walk back to the dorms was quieter, yet the silence felt different now—less like avoidance and more like understanding. Bang Chan walked beside Y/N, their steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. Neither of them said much, but the air between them felt heavier with emotions they weren’t ready to voice.

As they reached the building’s entrance, Chan hesitated, his hand hovering near the door handle. “Do you want to come in? The others are still up, probably goofing around.”

Y/N gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know if I have the energy to deal with their endless teasing tonight.”

“They’ve already started calling you ‘noona’ like it’s a badge of honor,” Chan said, smiling. “You’ll never escape it now.”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “It’s kind of nice, though,” she admitted. “They remind me of... well, of us back then.”

Chan’s smile faltered slightly, the mention of the past tugging at something deep within him. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’ve got that same fire we used to have. But don’t sell yourself short—you still have it too.”

Y/N shook her head, looking away. “I don’t know about that.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of laughter from inside the dorm interrupted him. The door swung open, revealing Han and Seungmin, who froze when they saw them standing there.

“Hyung! Noona!” Han exclaimed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “What’s this? A secret meeting?”

“Late-night date, maybe?” Seungmin chimed in, his deadpan delivery making it even funnier.

“Knock it off,” Chan said, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck.

Y/N laughed, the warmth in her chest pushing away the heaviness that had been sitting there all day. “If this is how you treat all your guests, I’m surprised anyone visits.”

“Only the special ones, noona,” Han quipped, winking at her.

“Go inside,” Chan ordered, shooing them back into the dorm.

As they retreated, still chuckling, Chan turned back to Y/N. “You sure you don’t want to come in? They’d love having you around.”

Y/N hesitated. A part of her wanted to join them, to let herself be swept up in their youthful energy and forget about everything else. But another part of her—the part that still carried the weight of the past—wasn’t sure if she was ready.

“Not tonight,” she said finally, her tone soft. “But... maybe another time.”

Chan nodded, his expression understanding. “Take your time,” he said. “We’ll be here.”

Later That Night

Y/N sat in her small apartment, staring at the blank notebook in front of her. The melody she’d been working on earlier was still stuck in her head, but the words wouldn’t come.

Her mind kept drifting back to Chan—his voice, his smile, the way he’d looked at her like he was still trying to understand why she’d left.

She sighed, setting the notebook aside. The memories were too loud tonight, refusing to be ignored.

Flashback: The First Goodbye

The airport was crowded, the hum of activity a stark contrast to the stillness Y/N felt inside. Her suitcase sat at her feet, and her plane ticket was clutched tightly in her hand.

She’d made the decision to leave Korea and start fresh abroad, hoping that distance would help her figure out who she was without the weight of the trainee life she’d abandoned.

Chan had shown up unannounced, his face flushed from running through the terminal.

“You weren’t going to tell me you were leaving the country?” he’d asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“I thought it would be easier this way,” she’d said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Easier for who?” he’d demanded, his hurt bleeding into anger. “For you? Because it sure as hell isn’t easier for me!”

Y/N had felt the tears welling up, but she’d forced herself to stay calm. “Chan, I can’t stay here. Every corner of this city feels like a reminder of everything I failed at.”

“You didn’t fail,” he’d said, his voice softening. “You just… chose a different path.”

She’d shaken her head, unwilling to let him comfort her. “I need this, Chan. I need to figure out who I am without this life. Without…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, but he understood.

“Without me,” he’d said quietly, the pain in his voice cutting through her like a knife.

She’d wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was the only part of her life she’d ever been sure of. But she didn’t. Instead, she’d stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that felt more like a goodbye than she’d intended.

“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered.

When she’d pulled back, his eyes were red, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d just watched as she picked up her suitcase and walked away.

Back to the Present

Y/N wiped at her eyes, surprised to find tears there. The memory of that day still haunted her, and being around Chan again had only brought it all back.

But as painful as it was, it also made her realize something: she wasn’t as far away from that world as she thought.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to find her place in it again.

The next day, Y/N found herself sitting in the studio, the same studio where Chan had told her Stray Kids often worked on their music. She had arrived early, telling herself it was to focus on finishing the lyrics for their comeback song.

But as she stared at the screen of her laptop, the blinking cursor mocking her inability to write, she realized the real reason she was here: she wanted to see him again.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the melody Chan had worked on playing softly in the background. She knew the song needed something—something raw and honest—but the words still wouldn’t come.

“You’re early.”

The familiar voice startled her, and she turned to see Chan leaning in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Could say the same about you,” she replied, offering a small smile.

He stepped inside, setting the cup on the table next to her. “This is for you. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, his gaze flickering to the screen. “Stuck?”

“Something like that,” she admitted, sighing. “I have the melody in my head, but the lyrics… they just don’t feel right.”

Chan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes the words come when you stop trying so hard. What are you writing about?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing against the keyboard. “The feeling of losing something you can’t get back,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond right away, but when she looked up, his eyes were locked on hers. “Is that how you feel?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. “You know, I used to think that too. That once something was gone, it was gone for good.”

“And now?”

“Now I think… maybe some things can come back,” he said, his gaze never wavering. “If both people are willing to try.”

Y/N’s breath caught, the vulnerability in his voice making her heart ache. “Chan, I—”

Before she could finish, the door opened, and Han poked his head inside.

“Hyung! Noona!” he said, his grin wide. “Are we interrupting something?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly shook her head. “No, just working.”

“Sure you are,” Han teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Anyway, we’re starting rehearsal in ten minutes. Don’t be late!”

With that, he disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Han has the worst timing.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the tension easing slightly. “He’s just being Han.”

As Chan stood, he glanced at her again. “Think about what I said,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Y/N sat on her bed that night, her notebook open in her lap. Chan’s words played over and over in her mind, his quiet determination resonating with something deep inside her.

She picked up her pen, letting the melody guide her, and began to write. The words flowed more easily now, like they’d been waiting for her to let go of her fear.

Y/N arrived at the studio early again, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. She found Chan already there, headphones on as he worked on the track.

When he noticed her, he smiled and pulled the headphones off. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I have something to show you,” she said, holding out the notebook.

Chan took it, his brows furrowing as he scanned the lyrics. As he read, his expression softened, and when he looked up at her, there was a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite name in his eyes.

“This…” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “This is perfect.”

Y/N felt a weight lift off her chest, her lips curving into a tentative smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said firmly. “It’s honest, Y/N. It’s real. Just like you.”

The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they worked together on the song, their laughter filled the room, blending seamlessly with the music. And in that moment, Y/N realized something: maybe second chances weren’t about starting over. Maybe they were about picking up where you left off and finding the courage to keep going.

As the days passed, Y/N and Chan found themselves spending more time together, not just in the studio but outside of it too. Their shared moments stretched from late-night brainstorming sessions to quiet coffee breaks, each encounter chipping away at the wall that had built up between them over the years.

The song they were working on was slowly coming together, its lyrics raw and emotional. Every note and word seemed to carry a piece of their unspoken feelings, weaving a story of loss and rediscovery.

One Late Night at the Studio

The clock read 2:14 AM, but neither of them seemed to notice. Chan sat at the keyboard, his fingers lightly pressing the keys, playing the melody on loop as Y/N leaned over a notepad, scribbling and crossing out lines.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Chan said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You rewrite every line five times before you even give it a chance to breathe,” he said, turning to face her. “Sometimes, the first thought is the most honest.”

She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against the notepad. “I guess I’m scared it won’t be good enough.”

“For who?”

Y/N hesitated. “For you. For the members. For everyone who listens to it.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly on hers. “Y/N, it’s already good enough. You’re good enough.”

The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten, and she looked down at their hands, her heart pounding. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He smiled faintly. “Not always. But when it comes to you, I try.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air between them charged. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “We should get back to work,” she said softly, breaking the moment.

Chan nodded, but the way he looked at her told her he’d felt it too.

The Next Day

After practice, Chan approached her with a sly smile. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Come with me,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have something to show you.”

Curious, Y/N agreed, and a few hours later, they found themselves walking along a quiet path near the Han River. The city lights reflected on the water, casting a soft glow over everything.

“This used to be my escape,” Chan said, gesturing to the river. “Whenever things got too overwhelming, I’d come here to clear my head.”

Y/N smiled, her arms wrapped around herself against the cool breeze. “It’s beautiful.”

They sat on a bench overlooking the water, the sounds of the city distant and muted. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

“Do you ever think about the past?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“All the time,” Chan admitted, his gaze fixed on the water. “Especially the parts with you.”

Her heart ached at his honesty. “I never stopped thinking about you, Chan. Even when I was halfway across the world, you were always in the back of my mind.”

He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Then why did you stay away?”

“I was scared,” she said, her voice trembling. “Scared that coming back would make everything worse. Scared that I wouldn’t know how to face you.”

“You didn’t have to face it alone,” he said gently. “You still don’t.”

Y/N looked at him, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. “Chan, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he said, his hand finding hers once more. “Not if we’re both willing to fight for this.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he echoed, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time.

They sat there for hours, talking about everything and nothing, their laughter mixing with the sound of the river. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—beside him.

The following days were filled with rehearsals, studio sessions, and fan events, but the unspoken connection between Y/N and Chan remained a quiet, constant presence. Their bond deepened with every passing moment, but they kept it to themselves, not ready to make their feelings public—at least, not yet.

The members of Stray Kids, however, weren’t blind. They could see the way Chan’s eyes softened whenever Y/N entered the room, the way she would glance at him from across the studio with that quiet warmth. It didn’t take long for them to start noticing the subtle changes.

A Few Days Later, During Rehearsal

The practice room was buzzing with energy as the Stray Kids members ran through choreography for their upcoming comeback. Y/N was there as usual, helping with the songwriting and offering her input where needed. She sat off to the side, her legs crossed, her notebook in her lap.

But it didn’t take long before Chan noticed her gaze shifting toward him every few seconds. He caught her eyes once, offering a smile. It was simple but full of understanding, and for a split second, it felt like the world faded away around them.

"Chan, focus!" Hyunjin’s voice broke through the moment, pulling him back to the present.

"Yeah, no zoning out now," Felix added, grinning mischievously.

Chan cleared his throat, his face turning slightly pink as he forced himself to focus on the choreography. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, and despite his best efforts to keep it cool, the members were starting to catch on.

After a long rehearsal, the members of Stray Kids were gathered in the living room of their dorm, winding down from the intense practice. Y/N had joined them, laughing along with their teasing and sharing stories about her experiences with music.

Chan, as usual, found himself seated beside her. Their shoulders brushed now and then, and each time it sent a small shock through him, but he didn’t pull away. It felt comfortable, natural even.

“Alright, we’re getting to the good part!” Changbin said, holding up his phone. “Let’s see how long it takes for you two to admit it already.”

Y/N and Chan both blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “What?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

“You know,” Hyunjin smirked, “the whole ‘will-they-won’t-they’ thing. We can tell there’s something going on between you two. The vibe is very obvious.”

Chan’s face flushed bright red. “Hyunjin—no.”

“No, no, don’t hide it!” Han laughed, pointing between Y/N and Chan. “It’s so clear! You two are practically glued to each other. Everyone’s been noticing it, even the fans.”

Y/N’s heart raced. “There’s nothing going on,” she tried to say, but the words felt weak even to her own ears.

“Sure, noona,” Felix teased, grinning. “You’re just here for the music, right?”

The rest of the members burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the teasing. Y/N looked at Chan, her heart pounding in her chest. He met her gaze, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“I—uh—guess we’re not as subtle as we thought,” Chan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, we’re not saying anything’s happening right now,” Seungmin chimed in, his tone playful. “But it’s obvious something’s there. We’re not blind.”

Y/N could feel her face burning, and she shifted uncomfortably. “We’re just… working together on the song,” she said quickly, hoping the explanation would stick.

But instead of pushing further, the members nodded, their teasing settling down. “If you two are happy, we’re happy,” Changbin added with a grin. “Just don’t leave us in the dark, okay?”

Y/N and Chan exchanged a glance. There was no denying that something was shifting between them, but neither of them was ready to put a label on it yet. It wasn’t about making an announcement; it was about feeling the moment together, quietly, without the pressure of others’ expectations.

Later That Evening

After the playful teasing from the members, Y/N and Chan found themselves alone in the kitchen, making tea. It was quiet now, just the two of them and the soft hum of the kitchen lights.

“You okay?” Chan asked, glancing at her as he poured water into the kettle.

“Yeah, just… a little embarrassed,” she admitted with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting them to be so direct about it.”

Chan chuckled. “They’re always like that. But they mean well.”

“I know,” she said, stirring her tea absentmindedly. “It’s just… I’m not used to this. Not used to being the center of attention like that.”

Chan leaned against the counter, his eyes softening as he watched her. “I get it. It’s a lot, but we don’t have to rush anything. We can take our time.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “We’re okay.”

They stood in the silence for a few moments before Chan spoke again, his voice quieter now. “I mean it, though. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll figure it out.”

Y/N met his eyes, her heart swelling at his words. “I’m glad we’re doing this. Together.”

Chan smiled, his gaze full of sincerity. “Me too.”

The days passed in a blur, and every moment Y/N spent with Chan only made her more aware of how deeply she had fallen for him. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her with such kindness, nor was it the gentle way he treated her as if she were the most precious thing in the room. It was everything—the way he understood her without words, the way he could make her laugh even on her worst days, and the way their silences were never uncomfortable.

But despite the deep connection they shared, there was still a part of her that hesitated. The fear of crossing a line. The fear of disrupting the delicate balance they had found.

It was late one evening after practice, and Stray Kids had finished a grueling rehearsal. The members were scattered throughout the dorm, unwinding and preparing for the next day’s schedule. Y/N had stayed behind to finish a few last notes on the song they were collaborating on, the melody and lyrics now blending seamlessly into a perfect mix of their shared creativity.

Chan, however, had lingered. He stood outside the door of the practice room for a moment, watching her from the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest. He had been battling with his feelings for weeks now, unsure if Y/N felt the same way. Every time they shared a quiet moment, it felt like there was something more beneath the surface, but the uncertainty lingered.

He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Y/N didn’t look up at first, her focus on the notebook in front of her, but the sound of the door closing gently made her glance up.

“Chan?”

He walked toward her, his gaze soft, yet determined. “Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she set the pen down, suddenly feeling nervous. “What’s wrong?”

Chan shook his head, his smile faint but real. “Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been holding something in for too long, and I can’t keep doing that.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as he took a step closer, his presence so comforting yet electrifying. “What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” Chan paused, his throat tight with nerves. He had never been one to shy away from his feelings, but this felt different. He knew the stakes were higher now. He could feel the tension between them, the unspoken understanding that they both felt something, but hadn’t yet acknowledged it.

“I think I’ve loved you for a long time,” Chan admitted, his eyes locked onto hers, his words raw and vulnerable.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words, so simple yet so powerful, sent her heart into overdrive. “Chan… I—”

But before she could say anything else, he reached out, cupping her face gently with both hands. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and in that moment, everything else in the world seemed to fade away. There was only the two of them, standing in the quiet of the room, the air thick with emotions they had both been too afraid to voice until now.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice hushed but full of intent. “I want you. And I want to be with you, if you feel the same way.”

Her heart soared as she nodded, a soft smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I feel the same, Chan. I’ve always felt the same.”

Before she could say anything more, Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes flickering between hers and her lips. He paused, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted to, but the moment stretched on, and she didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft at first, as if both of them were testing the waters, but the moment their lips touched, a spark ignited between them. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her fingertips. Chan’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate.

Time seemed to stand still, the only sound the soft rush of their breaths and the quiet hum of the room around them. It was as though the entire world had paused, and for once, there was nothing but the two of them in that moment, finally free to be what they had both secretly wanted for so long.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Chan rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gently cradling her face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her hands tracing the lines of his shirt, still feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

They stood there for a few moments, wrapped in the aftermath of the kiss, letting the reality of it settle. It was like the weight of the years they had spent apart had lifted, and in its place was the promise of something new, something they could both build together.

Finally, Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief. “I think we should make this official,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’m not letting you go this time, Y/N.”

She smiled up at him, her heart full. “I’m not going anywhere.”

After that night, everything changed between Y/N and Chan. What had once been subtle glances and fleeting touches now became an undeniable force that neither of them could ignore. It was as if the world had slowed down, leaving just the two of them caught in the newfound intensity of their connection.

The evening had settled in with a quiet calm, and Stray Kids had finished another long day of practice. Y/N had stayed behind for a while, working through some lyrics, but as the night deepened, she found herself looking out of the window, her thoughts wandering to the moment she and Chan had shared.

Without thinking, she made her way to the roof, craving some fresh air and solitude.

As she stepped onto the rooftop, the cool breeze brushed against her skin, and she took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the day slip away.

But her solitude didn’t last long. Moments later, the sound of footsteps approached, and Chan stepped into view, a smile playing on his lips.

“You were looking for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet teasing.

Y/N turned to him, her heart fluttering. “I just wanted some space to think.”

Chan walked toward her, the distance between them closing quickly. “I understand. Mind if I join you?”

Y/N smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to stand next to her. They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at the stars above them, the city lights twinkling below.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Chan remarked, his voice almost a whisper as he turned to face her.

She nodded, her gaze meeting his. “Just thinking about everything that’s changed.”

“You don’t have to be so guarded with me, you know,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “You can share anything.”

Without saying another word, he reached out, gently cupping her face, and before she could even react, he kissed her—slowly, softly, as if savoring the moment. The kiss was tender, almost like a question, a reassurance that they were both on the same page.

Y/N melted into him, her hands instinctively going to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body as she kissed him back, deepening the kiss. Their lips moved together in a rhythm they had somehow already known, their hearts racing in unison.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her heart pounding in her chest.

“That… that was...” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Perfect,” Chan finished for her, his smile wide and sincere. “I don’t want to let you go, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of his jaw.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he kissed her again, this time more urgently, as if the very act of being close to her was what he had been craving all this time. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his. Y/N responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

The kiss deepened, each touch feeling more like a confession of everything they had been holding back. Y/N could feel the heat rising between them, the undeniable chemistry that had always been there, now unleashed.

When they pulled apart this time, their breathing was uneven, but their smiles never wavered.

“I want more of that,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Then you’ll have it,” Chan promised, his voice low and filled with emotion.

As the night continued, Stray Kids and Y/N had moved back into the studio to work on the final touches for the track. The members were bustling around, preparing for the next stage of the project.

Chan and Y/N shared more than a few stolen moments during the session. Every so often, their hands brushed as they worked, the brief contact sending sparks through both of them. And each time, neither of them could resist the pull toward each other.

At one point, while the others were busy, Chan took Y/N’s hand and pulled her aside, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, let’s take a break,” he suggested, his voice low.

Before she could say anything, he led her to a quiet corner of the studio, hidden away from the rest of the group.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in.

Y/N shivered at his closeness, her heart racing once more. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

With those words, he kissed her again, this time with more intensity, his hands sliding down her sides as he pressed her against the wall. Her hands went to his chest, pushing him slightly away just enough to look at him.

“Chan… we’re—”

“We’re fine,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing against her ear. “Just let it happen. Let me kiss you like I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Y/N could only nod before pulling him back toward her, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss. The kiss was messy and urgent, fueled by all the emotions they had kept bottled up for too long. Chan’s hands explored her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and Y/N responded in kind, her hands threading through his hair as she tugged him even closer.

The kiss deepened, and she could feel her body reacting to his touch. Their shared heat, the taste of each other, was intoxicating, and she never wanted it to end.

Finally, when they broke apart, both were breathless, their faces flushed with the intensity of the kiss.

“I never want to stop,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from his touch.

“Then don’t,” Chan whispered back, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The days that followed were filled with moments of subtle tenderness. For Y/N and Chan, their quiet connection had blossomed into something undeniable. But the more they navigated their feelings for each other, the more the rest of Stray Kids began to notice.

The members had been teasing them here and there, but they were starting to notice the small, almost imperceptible shifts in their interactions. How Y/N and Chan would share private smiles, how they’d brush their hands together while working, and how they couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off each other. It wasn’t just obvious anymore—it was undeniable.

A Few Days Later

The members were lounging around in the dorm’s living room, casually chatting and watching TV. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her phone. Chan was standing by the window, his back turned to everyone, but he kept sneaking glances at her—his gaze soft and full of affection.

Felix, ever the observant one, caught on first. He shot a glance at Hyunjin, who was sitting beside him, his curiosity piqued.

“Hyunjin, do you notice anything… different about Chan and Y/N?” Felix asked, his voice a little quieter than usual, so as not to attract attention.

Hyunjin turned to look at them, his eyes narrowing with interest. “What do you mean?”

Felix motioned subtly to the two of them. “They’ve been acting... weird lately. More than usual.”

Hyunjin leaned back, crossing his arms. “I’ve noticed. They keep exchanging these looks... and they’ve been so close. They’re not even hiding it anymore.”

“You think?” Felix whispered, eyes widening.

Changbin, who was sitting across from them, suddenly joined the conversation. “You guys are so slow.”

“What?” Hyunjin and Felix both asked, clearly puzzled.

“Their chemistry is so obvious that it’s painful to watch,” Changbin said, looking at them like they were oblivious. “They’re definitely together. It’s been clear for days.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are we talking about Y/N and Chan?”

Changbin nodded. “Are you guys blind? It’s been happening right in front of us.”

Meanwhile, Chan had been standing by the window, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He knew the members were starting to figure it out, but he hadn’t yet decided how he was going to approach it. He wasn’t sure whether he was ready for the conversations that would follow—especially with Y/N being part of their world now.

Y/N glanced up at him from her phone, catching his thoughtful expression. She smiled gently, then stood up and walked over to him, her steps light. Without a word, she reached out and gently grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly.

Chan turned to look at her, a small, tender smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

He paused, his gaze flickering between her and the members. “About... how much longer we can hide this from everyone.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think we need to hide it anymore.”

She leaned in slightly, her lips brushing his in a brief but sweet kiss. When she pulled away, her smile was soft but confident.

But before Chan could respond, the others noticed them. The members had been watching the exchange and couldn't ignore it any longer.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Seungmin called out from the couch, grinning. “You two are so obvious. Stop pretending you’re not together already!”

Y/N froze for a moment, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pulled her hand from Chan’s and glanced at the members, who were all now looking at them with knowing smiles and raised eyebrows.

“Wait, what?” Y/N said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her voice cracked slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve all seen it,” Hyunjin said with a teasing grin. “The secret looks. The little touches. The way you two act when no one’s looking.”

Felix smirked. “Noona, you’ve been keeping it lowkey, huh? But come on, we’re not that dumb.”

Chan sighed, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s pretty obvious.”

“I’m glad you finally admitted it,” Changbin said with a knowing wink. “We’ve been waiting for the two of you to figure it out.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her embarrassment fading into amusement. “I guess it wasn’t as secret as I thought.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Han said, rolling his eyes playfully. “You two are the worst at keeping things under wraps.”

“Wait, so you’re really together?” Seungmin asked, his eyes wide with mock surprise. “No one told me!”

“We’ve been waiting for the right moment,” Chan said, his voice calm but still with a hint of nervousness. He glanced at Y/N, his hand finding hers once again, their fingers intertwining naturally. “But I guess this is the moment.”

Y/N smiled softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah. We’re together.”

The members all erupted into cheers and claps, teasing them relentlessly but with warmth and excitement.

“Finally!” Felix shouted. “We’ve been waiting for this day!”

“Congratulations, Chan hyung!” Hyunjin added with a wink. “You didn’t let us down.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide. “You guys are impossible.”

Y/N laughed along with them, the tension lifting from the room. It felt right to finally say it out loud, to not hide it anymore. She and Chan were not only in a relationship—they were part of each other’s worlds now, and there was no turning back.

The group fell into easy chatter, teasing and congratulating the couple, but there was a warmth in the air now, a sense of unity that made everything feel just a little bit more perfect.

After the teasing had died down, and the members had retreated to their own corners, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room. The weight of their confessions still hung in the air, and they shared a quiet, intimate moment together.

Chan pulled Y/N into a gentle hug, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as they stood in the middle of the room, the night outside peaceful.

“I’m glad we did this,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she rested her head on his chest. “It feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad too,” Chan murmured, his lips pressing against the top of her head.

The days after the members discovered Y/N and Chan’s relationship were both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. While the members of Stray Kids were supportive, teasing, and genuinely happy for them, it also meant that their relationship was no longer a secret. It was out in the open, and the dynamic had shifted slightly.

But for Y/N and Chan, it felt like a new beginning. They could now be open with their feelings, share stolen moments without hiding in the shadows, and no longer had to hide the tender affection that had been building for so long.

A Week Later

Stray Kids had been hard at work preparing for their next performance, and the practice room buzzed with the usual energy and enthusiasm. However, there was a noticeable shift in the air. Y/N and Chan were no longer exchanging secret glances but instead spoke to each other with a familiarity and warmth that the other members had grown accustomed to seeing.

The energy was light, but there was an undeniable tension between the two of them—a good tension that seemed to draw them closer every time they exchanged looks or brushed past each other during rehearsal.

As they took a short break, Chan walked over to Y/N, who was sitting on the floor stretching.

“Need some help with that stretch?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

Y/N smiled, looking up at him. “You always say that when I’m on the floor, don’t you?”

“Only because it’s cute when you stretch,” Chan replied, kneeling down next to her with a grin. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, the touch sending warmth through her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “You really need to stop with the compliments. You’re going to make me blush.”

“Good,” Chan said, leaning in closer. “I like it when you blush.”

She playfully pushed him away. “Stop! You’re too much sometimes.”

Before they could continue the playful banter, Bang Chan’s voice echoed from the other side of the room.

“Focus, you two!” Lee Know called, eyes narrowing teasingly. “We’re supposed to be stretching, not flirting!”

The entire room broke into laughter, but there was no denying the warmth between Chan and Y/N. The other members watched in amusement, clearly enjoying the comfort and chemistry between the two.

The Following Week

The group was now preparing for their upcoming comeback, and the studio had become a second home for Stray Kids. The energy was always high, and everyone was hard at work, but it also meant that Y/N and Chan had to navigate the complexities of being in a relationship while working in the same professional space.

As they worked side by side, Y/N noticed how effortlessly they fit into the dynamic of the group. Chan would check in with her about lyrics, sometimes brushing his hand against hers as he passed her papers or leaned over to suggest changes. The members were fully supportive, often teasing the two of them but always with good-natured humor.

But it wasn’t just the members of Stray Kids who noticed. The staff, the choreographers, and even some of the other artists who came in for recordings could feel the shift in the atmosphere whenever Y/N and Chan were together. The bond between them was undeniable.

And then, one afternoon, while the group was taking a short break, Y/N and Chan were caught in a moment of pure affection. As the group was chatting casually, Chan reached out to fix a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Y/N’s forehead. His fingers brushed against her skin, and their eyes locked for a split second. There was a quiet intimacy in the way they shared the look, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Jisung, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Okay, you two. We get it. You’re cute. But we’re trying to work here!”

Y/N and Chan both blushed, stepping apart quickly. “Sorry!” Y/N said, looking sheepish but also unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I swear, if you guys get any more obvious, we’ll need to separate you two,” Hyunjin teased, his grin mischievous.

The teasing didn’t stop there, but Y/N and Chan couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between them now replaced with a shared sense of comfort.

The peaceful moments Y/N and Chan shared were soon overshadowed by the weight of an inevitable decision: the time had come to announce their relationship to the public. Their growing affection had long been impossible to hide from the people closest to them, but now it was a matter of whether they would control the narrative or let the media take charge of their story.

For the past few weeks, both had been grappling with the idea of how to approach it. They were aware of the scrutiny that came with being public figures, but they had also realized that their feelings for each other were too strong to keep hidden any longer. They needed to be honest—not only with the public, but with themselves.

Chan and Y/N sat on the couch late one evening, a blanket draped over their laps as they spoke in low voices, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air.

“So, it’s really time,” Y/N said, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the blanket. Her heart raced, knowing that once they made the decision, there would be no turning back.

“Yeah,” Chan said softly, his hand finding hers, gently squeezing it. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them. Not from us.” He met her eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “We’re strong enough to handle whatever comes. We’ve been through too much together.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know. It just feels... scary. The media, the fans... What if they don’t accept us?”

“I’ll be with you through it all,” Chan reassured her. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. We’ve got this.”

She leaned against him, her heart swelling with affection. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The day they decided to announce their relationship to the public arrived with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Y/N and Chan sat down with their managers, who had prepared a statement that would be shared with the fans and media. It was carefully crafted to be both respectful and clear, allowing them to express their feelings while maintaining some level of privacy.

Y/N’s hands shook slightly as she held the piece of paper with the statement, but Chan’s reassuring presence next to her calmed her nerves. They knew they had to be careful, but they also knew they couldn’t hide anymore.

As the time for the announcement drew near, the tension in the air was palpable. The members of Stray Kids had gathered in the living room, anxiously awaiting their friends' decision. The room was filled with murmurs of excitement, nervousness, and support. Everyone knew the significance of this moment.

“Are you two ready?” Bang Chan asked, his voice steady as he glanced at Y/N.

Y/N smiled weakly, her nerves evident. “I think so.”

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin said with a teasing grin. “We’ve got your back. Besides, we know you guys are perfect for each other.”

The others nodded in agreement, giving them words of encouragement.

With a deep breath, Y/N and Chan stood together, ready to face the world.

The official Stray Kids Twitter account shared the announcement:

“Hello, Stays! We wanted to take a moment to share something important with you all. Over the past few months,Bangchan and Y/N have developed a close and special relationship, one that we are very proud of. As their friends, we wanted to support them in their decision to go public. We ask for your understanding and respect as they embark on this new chapter. As always, we are grateful for your continued love and support. Thank you.”

The post went live, and the reactions were immediate. Within minutes, thousands of comments flooded in from fans. Some were ecstatic, expressing their joy and excitement for the couple. Others were surprised but supportive, appreciating the honesty. However, there were a few critics who voiced their concerns, questioning their relationship and what it meant for the group’s image.

On the Twitter Feed

“Oh my god, Bangchan and Y/N?! 😭💖 So happy for them! They’re so perfect together!”

“I can’t believe this is real! I’ve been shipping them for so long!!”

“Wishing them all the best! Love is real, and so is this ship 😍💑”

“What?? I never saw this coming, but I support them! #StayTrue”

“Wow, this is so sudden. Is this the best decision for them, though?”

“I don’t know if I can handle this. I just hope they’re ready for what comes next. It’s a lot of pressure for them...”

The mixed reactions didn’t surprise either of them. They had both prepared for the scrutiny that came with the territory of being idols, but they also knew that the love they shared was worth it. The most important thing was that they had each other—and the unwavering support of their friends.

As the evening wore on, Stray Kids sat together in the living room, following up on their announcement. They had been checking social media reactions all day, and while there was a lot of love and support, it was clear that the announcement had stirred up a lot of attention.

“Are you guys, okay?” Han asked, his eyes soft as he turned to Y/N and Chan.

Y/N nodded, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “It’s a lot to process, but I think... we can handle it. I’m just glad we did it together.”

Chan smiled, his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what happens.”

The members of Stray Kids rallied around them, offering their words of encouragement and support.

“You two are amazing,” Han said, a big smile on his face. “You’ve got all of us behind you, and we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about a thing,” Hyunjin added. “We’re a team, and we’ll take on whatever comes together.”

The love and support from the group was overwhelming, and it made the weight of the situation feel a little lighter.

That night, as the group finally settled in to relax, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room once again. They sat together on the couch, the glow of the soft lamps casting a warm light across the room.

Y/N rested her head on Chan’s shoulder, her hand still tightly clasped in his.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” she asked quietly, her voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Chan kissed the top of her head gently. “I do. We’re finally being honest. And that’s all that matters.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full of gratitude. “I love you, Chan.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “And nothing is going to change that.”

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. No matter what the world threw their way, she knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything.

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Prologue (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice upon the next upload. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 2k+

Prologue

Present Day ~ Friday, 10:23 PM

It was happening again. There was nothing you could do to stop it. No amount of shame or fear could keep you from hiding in the bathroom at 10:23 PM, your thumb hovering over the open message icon on your phone. You knew who it was, the person you desperately craved.

The sender's name was your best friend and coworker, Yuna.

You always talked to Yuna; sometimes you even stayed with her after work was over in the affluent area of Tokyo, Roppongi Hills. There were even the rare times you'd stay overnight after work because you felt like you couldn't see each other long enough. At least, it's who your fiancé thought you were talking to and seeing. If he ever found out otherwise, well, you weren't sure you even wanted to think about what might happen.

Toji would get annoyed at you for wanting to talk so much with one of your friends, and he always demanded to know what you two did or talked about all the time, which you offered very detailed lies in response to his questions. It's not like you came to these decisions lightly. You stuck it out faithfully for almost seven years before giving up and needing someone else to make you feel like a beautiful and worthy woman again. To know someone else could appreciate you and offer excitement in your life. To not hit or yell at for everything was a huge plus also. Even if it was only temporary. Even if they didn't care about you in the same way you cared for them, you still needed whatever you could get.

Listening carefully in the silence of the night, you could still hear Toji snoring from your tiny, shared bed down the hall, and finally, your shaking thumb pressed onto the screen, closing your eyes as you felt the little bzzt of the message opening.

Swallowing tightly before accepting the message visually, you peeked an eye open and felt your face flush with a tingling heat that traveled down into your core, making your thighs squeeze together tightly as you sat on the edge of the tub, breath hitching at the photo and caption that now had you uncontrollably mesmerized.

Clicking the lock button on the side of your phone you dropped it down onto the soft rug below, your shaking hands now covering your face before going through your hair and you let out a long quiet breath.

Your heart pounded with the image in your mind, and what usually happened after you got one of these messages, there was no stopping it, and you hoped it never would.

Finally calming your nerves at the moment, you picked your phone back up, only to have that heated chill drop to your stomach again as there was another message to open now. Biting your lip, you opened it and at this point, you could nearly hear your own elevated heartbeat.

-"Aren't you going to answer me, doll? I know you're still awake."-

You covered your mouth with your free hand to try and quiet the excited breaths escaping your mouth, scrolling up slowly to review the previous message.

-"I know it's late, and to be honest, I really don't care. I want you here, need you beneath me in my bed where you know you belong. Letting a real man fuck you. You know he can't make you feel like I can." Photo attached: It was of that enormous bulge desperately trying to push through dark sweatpants that were loosely tied at the hip, shirt lifted and held up by sharp canines to show off that ridiculously built body, and sinful black tattoos that hugged the skin.-

Damn him. A quiet whine churned in your throat as your thighs clenched together more tightly in that shameful desire. He was right though. Toji could never fuck you as good as Sukuna. It was so embarrassing. Embarrassing how easy it was for Sukuna to turn you completely limp in his arms, and how quickly you'd lose yourself beneath him. Embarrassing because of how loud and lewd your moans were. Embarrassing because of how much you wanted this arrogant playboy.

Knowing another message would come through if you didn't reply, you quickly responded with the only thing you could think of at the moment, being so flustered and already getting dumb over dick through a teasing photo. -"I still have that report I have to finish this weekend, I don't think you'd be too happy if I don't complete it by Monday, Sukuna."-

As soon as you sent the message, it was as if there was an answer already waiting, and your phone almost immediately vibrated in response. -"Just stay the whole weekend with me, I don't even care anymore at this point. You can finish that here after I'm finished with you. I've already transferred the train ticket vouchers to you. The last one leaves at 10:51 pm. I'll pick you up at the station when you arrive. Just don't keep me waiting, my pretty, little thing."-

Running a hand over your forehead that felt a bit damp from nervousness, you shoved your phone into your pocket and let out a quiet but heavy breath. Having an affair with your boss was undoubtedly making you the happiest you've felt in years, but still, at the same time, it made you so frightened and ashamed. Especially since it felt like you were getting more attached to him, though you knew Sukuna wasn't looking for a serious relationship of any kind. He had made that perfectly clear. Painfully clear. You weren't the only woman in his life that he entertained, and you knew you wouldn't be the last. You were just fortunate to have his attention, for now.

He certainly knew how to make you feel like the only woman in the world though, despite knowing you were just sharing him. At least he kept his wandering eyes and flirtatious comments under check when the two of you were spending time together. Meanwhile, Toji acted like the biggest flirt in the world with every woman he encountered, even with you at his side.

Toji could be so gentle and loving when he wanted to be, but it never lasted long, and it was only when he was rewarding you for properly behaving. There'd always be something to set him off or some woman nearby he couldn't keep his eyes off of. You were certain he had been sleeping with other women for years, the way he acted around some of them proved it. Despite your supsicions, you had stayed faithful and loyal. Even through the beatings and constant derogatory things he called you. You weren't sure if it was because you had morals, or because you were terrified of him.

So long as you were obedient like a trained dog, Toji wouldn't hurt you. Mentally or physically. Most of the time you were too frightened to fall out of line, knowing how easily he could knock you out, or break an arm; something he's done before in a fit of drunken rage. He definitely scared the shit out of you, and cheating or lying like this was enough to make you shake in fear for your safety.

But, Sukuna never asked you to officially stay for several days like this at his own home. Sure, you've taken work trips together, but even though you gave yourself to Sukuna in any way he wanted, most of those were strictly professional and work related. So, as terrified as you were of your fiancé finding out, you couldn't pass up this type of opportunity. Maybe Sukuna was getting more attached to you as well? 

"I have no desire for a relationship of any kind beyond this. Don't get any hopes or ideas, I simply enjoy what we have, and it wont ever change."

Doubtful.

Even knowing his attitude towards your relationship, it wasn't always easy to keep your mind free of hopeful thoughts, unfortunately. The way he'd hold you so close or kiss you so gently at times brought such confusion it hurt almost worse than any slap from Toji.

You carefully snuck out of the apartment, praying to god that Toji wouldn't hear you. You'd have to come up with some lie at some point, but for now, you just wanted to see the man you desperately longed for. The train station was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment, so it was a quick walk down the road. Approaching the kiosk to pick up your tickets, you held the voucher barcode on your phone underneath the scanner and it printed out a set of tickets for you to board the train. 

Knowing the ride would be a little time-consuming, roughly over an hour, you stared aimlessly out the window for most of the trip, your leg bouncing in anticipation. You tried not to think of all the shameful things you were going to let this beast of a man do to you through the rest of the night, and how you craved every bit of it. It was the only time you didn't have to think or worry, you could just let Sukuna use you as he wanted. 

Nearing the destination, you clicked on Yuna's name in your contacts and took a quick selfie, angling the camera so your pushed-up boobs were clearly visible as well. Before Sukuna, you could never feel confident enough to take such pictures. Even when Toji demanded some risqué photos, you couldn't feel comfortable doing so. Sending them to Sukuna was exciting, however. Being satisfied after a few images, you attached a message, -"I'm coming. ❤"-

-"Yeah, you'll be screaming that soon enough."- he replied nearly instantly.

God, you could hear his cocky chuckle through the text. -"Please, 'cause I seriously need it. This whole week was awful."- You type out, still feeling the throbbing, dull pain in your side where Toji jammed his fist into your ribs for talking back to him. -"Yeah? Well, glad I had you come over then. I'll make sure to fuck all of the stress out of you."-

He sent another photo and you nearly dropped your phone once it popped up on the screen as you weren't expecting to see his large hand tightly wrapped around his hardened cock. You let out a near silent yet audible whimper as your eyes fixated on it. A shudder traveled through your body as you recalled how amazing he could make you feel.

You were just grateful Sukuna asked you to come over tonight, and it not be mainly for work, considering you and Toji had another fight about his past financial problems that somehow became your main responsibility to fix. At the time of your engagement when you were young, dumb, and in love, you had agreed to put all of his bills in your name and his credit debt as soon as possible so he could catch a break and start rebuilding his finances and you'd be able to help with the payments then.

Of course, through some miscommunication, you were responsible for ALL the payments now, and you couldn't keep up. To make it worse, he kept taking out new loans for who knows what and it seriously terrified you. Loan sharks were nothing to mess with. They'd give you anything you want, but if you didn't pay it back, they weren't afraid to get rough for their money. No point in calling the cops either, cause the cops were scared of them half the time too.

Seeing the city lights get closer, you let out a deep breath of suspense, knowing within the next few moments or so you'd be getting fucked stupid in one of the very expensive, luxury penthouses of the seductively, dominant man you met only a few months ago.

You knew the moment you had literally run into him while rushing down the sidewalk, causing his hot morning coffee to spill onto you and all over his expensive suit that things were going to change in your life, even if just for a little while.

End Prologue

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

I'll do my absolute best to keep this story updated, unlike before. I promise!

[the-offside-rule]

Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid) - My Ferrari Girl

Requested: yes

Prompt: F1 Driver!Reader x Jude Bellingham

Warnings: none to note

The Monaco Grand Prix always held a certain kind of magic, and this year was no different—except, for Y/n, it felt even more special. It was her first year with Scuderia Ferrari, and she was starting from second on the grid. With the glistening Mediterranean waters just beyond the track, it was hard not to feel the buzz of excitement. But today, there was an added layer of anticipation for her; Jude was in the paddock. This was the first time he’d made an official appearance as her boyfriend, but their relationship had been carefully kept under wraps until now. They had met in Monaco two years ago and had shared some magical moments, including sneaking off to the Champions League final in 2024 with Lando Norris. The romance between them had been slow-burning, and they’d kept it secret with only a few subtle likes and comments on social media to give fans something to speculate about.

Jude had been in her life through the highs and lows, and now, here they were, at the most prestigious race of the year, standing just feet apart but unable to make their love public... until now.

As Y/n stood with her mechanic beside her Ferrari, her hands lightly gripping the edge of the car, she discussed the race strategy. The air was thick with the anticipation of what was to come. Jude, on the other hand, stood off to the side with Alexandra, Charles Leclerc's girlfriend. Between the two Ferrari cars, they made casual small talk, discussing how stressful it would be watching the race from the hospitality suite. "Are you nervous?" Alexandra asked, glancing at Jude. His face was the picture of concentration, though a part of him wanted nothing more than to walk over to Y/N and wish her good luck in person. "Yeah." Jude admitted. "It’s going to be stressful. It’s Monaco, after all. But especially because she’s starting from second. It’s big for her."

Before he could say more, Martin Brundle appeared out of nowhere, microphone in hand. "Alexandra, how are you feeling about the race today?" Martin asked, his usual charm evident as he spoke. "And Jude, how are you finding the paddock life so far? You’ve got a real expert guiding you around with Alexandra." Jude smiled, trying to keep his cool. "It’s all been a bit overwhelming, to be honest. But I’m learning from the best." He said, glancing at Alexandra. Martin chuckled, then moved on to another question. "So, why Monaco? You’re usually busy with football. What makes this race so special for you?"

Jude’s eyes flicked toward Y/N as she adjusted her helmet, her focus on her car. A proud smile spread across his face. "I’ve always loved this race. But now," he paused, trying to collect his thoughts, "it’s especially special because my girlfriend is starting from second." Alexandra’s eyes widened in shock, and Martin’s expression mirrored hers. A long silence followed. Jude’s face immediately turned pale as he realized what he had just said. His hand shot to his mouth in a panic. "I... I mean... I didn’t mean to-"

Martin’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you’re saying your girlfriend? Who is she?" Jude took a deep breath, trying to salvage the moment. He turned and pointed toward Y/n, who was still talking to her mechanic. "That short girl in red? That’s the love of my life." Martin’s jaw dropped, and Alexandra struggled to hide a laugh. "Are you sure you want to go public with this now, Jude?" She teased. Jude let out a nervous laugh, still looking shocked. "I panicked, alright? I wasn’t ready for that... but, yeah, that’s her."

Martin turned back to Alexandra, his smile widening. "Well, I won’t bother her, but congratulations to both of you. Wishing you the best." As Martin moved on, Alexandra burst into laughter, elbowing Jude playfully. "You are in so much trouble."

"I know." Jude groaned, face red. "Y/n’s going to kill me." Sylvia, Ferrari’s PR manager, arrived just in time to rescue them. "The race is about to start. Let’s get you both to hospitality," she said, ushering them away. Before they parted ways, Jude quickly crossed the grid to Y/N, who was standing beside the car, adjusting her gloves. He gave her a brief but sweet kiss on the cheek. "Good luck." He whispered, his voice filled with affection. Y/n smiled at him, not knowing the chaos he had just caused. "Thank you." She replied, her focus still sharp.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The race was everything they expected. Intense, chaotic, and unpredictable. But in the end, it was a Ferrari 1-2 finish. Charles Leclerc took the victory, but Y/n had managed an impressive second place. The crowd erupted as the Ferrari team celebrated, but Jude couldn’t help but feel a little upset that most of the attention was on Charles. As Y/n climbed out of her car in Parc Fermé, she was greeted by cheers, but Jude didn’t mind. He walked right up to her, ignoring the cameras, and kissed her on the lips. His pride and love for her were palpable.

The two drivers disappeared into the Ferrari team area, while Jude and Alexandra stayed behind, discussing how stressful the race had been to watch. "I swear, I was about to pass out the entire time." Jude admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t blame you." Alexandra said with a smile. "But you should be proud. She was incredible." Jude nodded. "I am. More than I can explain."

As the celebrations continued, Jude stood proudly under the podium, his eyes fixed on Y/n as she was awarded her trophy. He felt a burst of pride watching her, knowing she had worked so hard to get here. After the ceremony, Y/n headed off to her media duties. She was immediately asked about the race and, as expected, was asked if it felt even more special with Jude there. She smiled and kept her answers cool. "It’s an honour to have someone like Jude supporting me. We’ve met a few times before, and it’s always great to have him here," she said, keeping it casual.

But then the journalist hit her with a curveball. "So, Jude let it slip on live broadcast today that you two have been dating for a while. What’s that all about?" Y/n’s eyes widened in confusion. "Wait, what?" The journalist pulled out his phone and showed her the clip of Jude’s accidental confession. Y/N let out a laugh, realizing what had happened. "Oh, he really did that, didn’t he?" She chuckled.

Before her next interview, she called Jude, unable to suppress her laughter. "Jude Bellingham, you just hard-launched our relationship on live TV. I can’t believe you." Jude’s voice came through the phone, full of sheepish amusement. "I panicked! You know I didn’t mean to." She smiled, looking down to the ground to avoid her PR manager tapping her watch. "Yeah, well, I’m going to have to deal with this now, aren’t I?" She teased, smiling despite herself. "Yeah, good luck, I love you, and I'm sorry." He chuckled. "Mind my trophy for me until I get back." Y/n said before hanging up and turning back to her PR manager. "Already getting you into trouble?" She asked. Y/n scoffed playfully. "That's what boyfriends are for. They're no fun without a little trouble."

[folkwhoreberry]

Hey, how are you?

I've been thinking about this for a while, and I just got back from the water park and the whole time I was thinking about Percy, going on the water slides with him, in the pools, cuddling with him like those couples in the pools and well, could you write something based on that for Percy? Pleaseee !!😚

Splash!

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where a wave swallows you

word count : 818

warning: like two sexual jokes, english is not my first language!!!

🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙

🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊

the sun blazed high above, casting a golden glow over the water park. the sound of excited laughter and splashing water echoed in the air, but amidst the chaos of vacationers and thrill-seekers, percy and you were in your own little world.

it was a rare day off - no monsters to fight, no prophecies to worry about, just the promise of a carefree day. percy grinned at you as he adjusted his sunglasses, his feet kicking up droplets from the poolside. “race you to the wave pool?” he challenged, a mischievous glint in his sea-green eyes.

you shot him a playful smirk, adjusting your sunglasses. “you’re on, seaweed brain.”

before you could take off, percy pulled you into a sudden, unexpected dip in the water, sending you both into a burst of laughter. it was moments like this - simple, carefree - that made everything feel normal again.

for now, though, you had a race to win.

quickly climbing out of the pool, you began to run towards the wave pool, the sound of your feet hitting the wet ground and shallow puddles filling the area around you, with percy following shortly behind. you made your way through the crowds of little children and their parents standing in your path on the way to the pool, nearly tripping on a kid’s foot before you finally reached your goal. while you panted, your body calming down from your mini-marathon, you didn't even notice your boyfriend catching up to you in a jog, tackling you to the ground as you yelped.

“perce, why the hell!” you exclaimed in between giggles, turning around to lay on your back instead of your front, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at percy. “what? I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you…” he teased, poking your stomach with the tip of his finger. “up now, angel,” he said, standing up and stretching out his hand for you to take to help you get up, “we have a wave to catch.” he said with a smirk, pushing you gently towards the more deep water with his hand on your lower back.

soon, a loud horn rang, signalling that the wave pool will soon start to come into life, and just a few seconds later the first wave came. you held tightly onto percy’s arm, your nails digging into his bicep. “oh my god, that’s huge!” you yelled as you saw how big the first wave was, “that’s what she sa-“ percy began, before being swallowed down by the wave, the both of you being forced to go underwater by the force of the water. but lucky him, he was the damn son of poseidon, he can breath underwater, unlike you who struggled. percy quickly pulled you up by the waist to help you from under the water, holding you up so that you could breath. “how as that, princess?” he asked you with his infamous smirk. “oh, amazin-“ you started speaking, before quickly going underwater again, to hide from the next upcoming wave. when the water calmed down a bit, you resurfaced back above the water. “can we go out now?” you asked, to which percy laughed and quickly nodded at.

once out of the water, you two decided to explore the water slides. since it was a weekday it was fairly empty, save for the young families with babies and toddlers who are pretty unlikely to go on any extreme slides, which is how you and percy quickly ended up at the top of one of the slides with a two-person donut floatie.

“scared, sweetheart?” he asked, settling down in front of you with his back into the slide. “you wish, jackson.” you snickered, holding onto the side handles as instructed, giving the bodyguard a nod before he sent the both of you down the twirly slide.

after going on four more slides, some more intense than others, you two decided to go relax in one of the hot tubs, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you after you settled down in the warm water, luckily finding one empty tub in the corner.

“you having fun, sweetheart?” percy murmured, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. “yeah, just a bit tired…” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you relaxed into the arms of your boyfriend, who rubbed his thumb over your shoulder.

“don’t fall asleep on me, ‘kay? don’t wanna have to carry you and deal with you being grumpy about your wrinkly skin.” he said, rubbing his hand over your arm. you hummed at his words, nodding in agreement with him.

spoiler alert, you did fall asleep. and he did have to carry you back to your sun beds. and you were grumpy about the grumpy skin caused by being in the water for a long time.

————————————————————————————

a/n : I had sooo much fun writing this!! also had harry potter nostalgia and decided to reference it haha

[dorkyteenagedirtbag-ks]

Synopsis: Kaiser’s dream of glory comes true, but his victory feels hollow.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The energy in the stadium was electric; people were crazy. The crowd was roaring for Kaiser. The lights shone bright, and the chants of his name echoed, everything felt surreal. Football was his life, his savior, his everything. But as he stood there, triumphant and soaked in sweat, a weight settled in his chest like never before.

The locker room was filled with excitement, but Kaiser sat quietly in a corner, a towel draped over his head, lost in thought. His mind was elsewhere.

It had been weeks since he'd last seen his lover, (Y/N).

(Y/N), a man who once was his silent shelter against the world's noise, his refuge. A touch from him, his smile, or even a look into his eyes were capable of drawing Kaiser from all turmoil within himself back into a tranquil lake. From the moment he began with nothing, the beginning, in itself-he'd seen him work so hard and struggle. And all through it, during every fall and after, even at moments when he'd wonder what everything was about, he'd have Y/N beside him.

But he wasn't here now.

The argument was still echoing in Kaiser's ears, louder than the cheers surrounding him. It had happened a week before the semifinals, a time when they should have been celebrating one of his biggest wins; instead, they were at each other's throats, saying words sharper than they wanted to.

"You're never here, Kaiser," Y/N had said shaking. "You keep talking of the future, about 'one day,' yet it's the same. Constantly football and always something big and more important than me. You just don't see me in that future you are talking of."

"That's not fair," Kaiser had snapped, on the defense. "You knew what this was about when you began dating me. This is my dream, (Y/N). You should get that. You more than anyone else should understand!"

"I get it!" Y/N had shouted, tears welled in his eyes. "But what about my dreams? What about us? What about my feelings? Are we just something you fit in in the cracks between the matches and training sessions?"

 

Kaiser had gone quiet, unable to answer.

"I can't keep doing this," he'd murmured, the anger sizzling out into exhaustion. "I can't keep being your second choice. I can't keep being the one you seek only when you're not shining on the field."

Kaiser wanted to say something-he really wanted to assure (Y/N) that things would be different, that things would change. But the words got caught in his throat, entangled in a truth he couldn't face. Football did come first. It had to. It was his dream, after all. A part of his everything.

(Y/N) had walked away that night, his absence louder than anything he could have said.

Now, sitting in the locker room, Kaiser felt that absence weighing down on him like a rock. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the unanswered texts he had sent to him. Each one was a little more desperate than the last.

Please, talk to me.

I didn't mean for it to be like this.

I need you, (Y/N).

But (Y/N) didn't answer.

A hand clapped Kaiser on the shoulder, jerking him back to the present. It was Noel Noa. "Press is waiting for you, Kaiser."

Kaiser nodded slowly, still in a haze. Standing up and plastering on a smile that felt fake, he went to talk to them. Everything felt like a lie today.

The press conference was a blur as reporters bombarded him with questions about his goal, the team's strategy, and his future. Kaiser answered like a robot, his mind elsewhere, somewhere with Y/N.

Later, standing alone in the parking lot, the night was eerily quiet. It was almost like the world was taunting his loud mind. He made one last call. It rang endlessly, and just when Kaiser thought it would go to voicemail again, (Y/N) finally answered.

“Kaiser,” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired and distant.

“I won,” Kaiser said, his voice shaky. “We’re heading to the finals.”

There was an uneasy silence that lasted for what felt like hours. "Congratulations" a soft reply was muttered by (Y/N).

Kaiser's eyes screwed shut because this pain he was feeling had very almost reached its maximum threshold. "I wish you were here."

"I cannot be," responded Y/N. "I can't keep looking at you when you're not even gazing at me."

Kaiser's throat lumped. "It's not like this; to me, you're everything."

"But not enough," he cut in. "Not enough to be first for you. Maybe we weren't meant to be after all."

Kaiser was wordless. "I hope you win," (Y/N) said with a soft tone, and the call ended.

The silence hung between them, heavy and final.

He was there for quite a while-the stadium sounds diminished, the ache in his chest not going away, reminding him of what he'd lost.

Kaiser lowered his phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow bring back Y/N. But it didn't.

In the end, Kaiser had chosen football. And it had cost him the one thing he could never get back.

And maybe, maybe after all Y/N was a part of his everything, but it was too late.

- 𝐊𝐒

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

I'M SO EXCITED (Art is by @spliceyblues 10/10 recommend for comms) ( I did not comm specifically for this au, if the reason I bullshat for her being dressed this way doesn't work, just say the word ^^ /lh/gen)

Template reads as: Crush: Cater Diamond - She does not recognize her feelings to be romantic, but they are good friends that grew apart a little bit after her attitude shift

Club: N/A

Additional Information:

- Regularly in detention/getting written up for uniform infractions

- She enjoys psychoanalyzing people

(this is mostly because emotions like infatuation are foreign to her)

- Not in extracurriculars because she volunteers at pet shelters and babysits a lot (she hides this best she can- she has a reputation to uphold)

- Very confrontational, but only with prior observation or sound reason

What do they carry?

Phone - self explanatory

Notebook/Pen - she writes down her impressions of people and keeps notes on who interacts with who - this all ties into her love of psychoanalyzing people. She struggles to feel or identify a great deal of emotions herself, so she likes to observe what traits are characteristic of certain emotions from other people. The dynamics she observes are also fodder for the story she working on writing.

Hotwheels Car - Meant to return it to one of the kids she was babysitting

Pocket Knife(ves) - Safety, she's usually out until pretty late and she likes to be prepared.

Iron supplements - has moderate iron deficient anemia. She carries them on her so that if she forgets to take them in the morning, she can take one at lunch. If she forgot or was unable to take them for a few days, she would be much more fatigued, less aware, and less social.

Lighter - You don't need to know why she has that.

MORE YAPPING UNDER THE CUT SORRY mostly angst related lmfao

LORE AND GENERAL INFO

5'3, 17 y.o, any pronouns

Used to be an honour student/competitive with Azul and Riddle until her dad passed away

Still lives with just her mom, not in a good place mentally, for the past two years her reputation has only been getting worse as the result of her becoming more and more apathetic

Spends as much time as she can outside of the house - whether it's stalling and sticking around school or working or volunteering or hanging out with a friend.

Now that she's built a bit of a negative reputation for herself, she's given herself a taste of freedom by letting herself learn that disappointing herself and /or others isn't how she should measure her happiness - however, keeping that icy outer shell helps her protect what DOES make her happy

She has managed to keep the fact her dad died under wraps - but her secretive behaviour and shutting down was what pushed most her friends away - including Cater.

In the event someone found out about her dad, or about her 'soft side', she wouldn't really care about rumours being spread, but she would actively avoid the person I think that's it for now ^^

No Yandere Simulator ? (TWST AU)

AU Information:

This AU takes place similar to Yandere Sim but with Twisted Wonderland but Taro is Azul and Ayano is Quartz. Her goal is to eliminate… AZUL ASHENGROTTO. Yeah, her goal is actually to kill Azul and NOT the rivals. The rivals being your OCs/sonass and they have to protect Azul from Quartz and her dumb elimination plans.

More info on Quartz + Tweels info

This is an AU just for fun!! lol I just had a silly idea. Here’s a template if you wanna make your own oc into the AU (rival or not)

ALSO THEY DONT KNOW IT'S QUARTZ bc she's just a nobody girl

Bro you can tell I was hella lazy with Azul idk he’s too much

Rival List:

Romeo by @skrimpyskimpy

Shuu by @oya-oya-okay

NPC/Non-Rival List:

Elfie by @quartzelfgf

Higashikuramori Shin by @liyuviq

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Rizy by @rizdoodls

Yuuki by @theolivetree123

Joseph by @readsrandomstuff67

(Let me know if I made a mistake lol)

[mommybard]

Whats the matter? A bit distracted? Mind wandering a bit? Youre not thinking perverted thoughts again, are you?

No, not you. You're definently not thinking about feeling a hand running through your hair, just to stop and pull you forward. Forcing you right up against a sweaty cock, letting the scent fill your lungs, overwhelm your mind, leave you in a drunken stupor where all you can do is struggle to form the words to bet for permission to lick.

And you're absolutely not thinking about getting thrown down onto your stomach. Feeling someone else's hands squeezing your hips and spreading your cheeks, grabbing you and lifting your rear into the air. That sudden sensation when their tongue is dragged along the rim of your ass before pressing in, eating you out to get you ready to take their cock or strap. Getting those whines of pleasure to escape your lips no matter how hard you try to stay silent. That sudden shock when they pull away and the cool air hits, just to be replaced by the feeling of them forcing your hole wide as they sink that hard shaft into you.

And I just know that there's no way you're imagining getting pinned to the bed by someone much bigger than you. Feeling their weight pressing down on you, looking up at them towering over you. The fear and excitement that courses through your body when they slap their cock down against you. Seeing just how far up your body it reaches. Realizing that normally there's no way it could fit. No way could you take it all. But that look in their eye. They're not going to take no for an answer. Not going to stop or give mercy. They're going to make sure every bit of that bitchbreaker is buried inside you, even if it utterly ruins your body~

I mean, youd have to be an utter pervert to think any of that. Someone who felt themselves getting wet or hard as you read all that. Someone who's hand is already moving between their legs to touch themselves because you have no self control~

[serapharua]

NO DISTANCE BETWEEN US | NISHIMURA RIKI

niki enha — GENRE : imagines fluff texts at end !— PAIRING : bf!niki x reader — WARNING : none — REQUESTED : yes <3 ☆ — enha masterlist

synopsis : you’re in a long-distance relationship with Niki and you guys are finally meeting for the first time!

note : this is my first time writing Niki like by himself so it may be a bit off 😭 hopefully ill get better at writing him in the future but rn I'm still learning </3

The excitement of finally meeting Niki in person after all this time hits you like a wave. You’ve spent endless nights talking and dreaming about this moment, and now, it’s real. You’re standing at the airport, scanning the crowd, trying to find the face you’ve been missing.

Your phone buzzes: “I’m here, at the gate. Get ready to be blown away.”

You look up just in time to see him — Niki, leaning casually against a pillar, wearing a slight grin that’s equal parts confident and playful. The instant you make eye contact, he pushes off from the pillar and strides over to you, trying to look cool but his nerves are evident in the way he keeps fidgeting with his hoodie sleeve.

“Finally, you showed up,” Niki says with a wink, but there’s a slight tremor in his voice, and you can tell he’s struggling to contain his excitement. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

You laugh, feeling the nervous energy crackling between you two. “I didn’t know I was supposed to impress you. I was just trying to find you in this crowd!”

He smirks but his eyes don’t quite meet yours, like he’s trying to hide just how excited he is. “I wasn’t expecting you to be this hard to find,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s a softness behind the words. “You look different… better than I imagined.”

Before you can even respond, he pulls you into a tight hug, almost as if he’s worried you might disappear. His arms wrap around you with a mix of familiarity and warmth, his body stiff at first as though he’s processing the moment. But then, he relaxes, burying his face in your hair for a second before pulling away just enough to look at you, his heart racing.

“You’re not as bad as I thought,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible, the teasing tone still there, but now laced with an endearing nervousness. “I’m not letting you go now, though. You’re stuck with me.”

You smile, feeling the soft vulnerability behind his usual cocky demeanor. “You act like I’m the one who should be worried.”

He chuckles, but it’s more of a breathless laugh than his usual confident one. “I swear, if I didn’t have to play it cool right now, I’d probably be freaking out.” He rubs the back of his neck, his smile becoming more genuine, his nerves getting the best of him. “I mean… I’ve been waiting for this. For so long.”

You laugh, your heart melting a little at the sight of him so nervous. “You? Freaking out? I can’t believe it.”

“I know, I know,” he says with a dramatic sigh, still smiling but now with an adorable sheepishness. “But… it’s you. And now you’re here. It’s way better than being stuck behind a screen, don’t you think?”

You nod, feeling the warmth between you two growing. “Definitely.”

He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow, though it’s more gentle now. “Well, now that you’re here… I guess you’re stuck with me for good.”

You can’t help but smile, realizing that no matter how cool he tries to act, he’s just as excited to finally meet you as you are.

Word count : 526 | serapharua, 2025.

[laura1633]

Does anyone remember the movie where a guy is a player but everytime a woman sleeps with him she meets the love of her life and of course he first kind of enjoys it until he meets his love of his life and now kind of panic and not wanna sleep with her?

Don‘t remember the name but i know Jessica alba was in it ..

ANYWAY

Just thought what if Charles was the player- i mean he is a f1 driver and has the good looks and then he gets all the chicks because of a rumor that after sleeping with him they meet the love of they lifes - first he kind of was devastated finding out that his exes now all married and have the find the one then he got all this hot people asking for just a night all because one of his exes thought she would shame him and goes public with it .. jokes on her!!

But then he and Max kind of bonding more, he enjoys max present and soon falls in love with him only to remember the rumor and he kind of believe that shit to so he is all like fuck .. i can’t sleep with max

I've not seen it. Or at least I don't think I have but I read your description and it feels really familiar. The internet is telling me its called Good Luck Chuck which if that is true then it makes this even funnier because CHUCK LECLERC!!!

Max would think that Charles just doesn't find him attractive and would be having a complete crisis of confidence, meanwhile Charles is really really struggling because god he wants to have sex with Max and whenever they around each other he keeps getting over excited but can't risk doing anything about it!

[jnxjoop]

Let it happen

hwang in-ho x reader

Chapter 2

You concentrated on the ceiling that night, wild ideas festering in your mind, morally conflicted in every way. You shouldn’t be feeling this, they were complete strangers who willingly participated—a portion of them not so willing now, and that’s what puzzled you. You were against becoming so sappy over people who wouldn’t acknowledge your existence in any other circumstance, though the sympathy lingered.

You studied the room’s contents underneath the dim lighting, the other contestants sleeping the day’s events off, letting the exhaustion ebb away, something that came naturally to them, and you wished it did for you too. Your ears pricked, listening to the soft snores and sounds people made while asleep, being the only disruption to the silence. A part of you even wanted Eun-Shin to pop out, to occupy the dreadful quiet, so your mind could be silenced.

Attempting to be quiet, you scooted your weight slowly toward the corner of the bed, legs dangling from the side, the stairs a foot below. Fingers combed through [H/C] strands, massaging your scalp as if it would diminish the questions pooling within your skull. Your eyes squeezed shut, tension possessing your bones, struggling to soothe the restlessness of your body. You should be excited, eager for the second game, but your nerves were frayed, strangely unsettled. Risk typically entertained you—but with other people’s lives at stake, it dulled. Regardless, you assured yourself you would revert to normal tomorrow.

“Are you alright?” The soft voice interrupted the course of silence, your eyes flying toward another bed opposite of you, a bunk lower—the familiar gaze of the tiebreaker connected to your own, turned on his side to better inspect you. You hadn’t even realized his presence there before lights out.

You didn’t expect anyone to be awake at this hour, the dormitory teeming with utter quiet, leaving you embarrassed that someone witnessed your restlessness—noticed your conflicted state.

“Of course,” You confirmed smoothly, brushing off the question, heart hammering at being caught. You avoided the piercing stare sent your direction, feeling the sheer awkwardness creep onto you—something startling about his eyes. “Just can’t sleep, is all.”

“I see,” He acknowledged, giving a slight nod of his head, mulling over the words. “If you’re worried about tomorrow, don’t be. Just try to get some sleep, and start tomorrow off fresh.”

“Thanks,” You dipped your head, the question of why so many people shared their kindness with you dwelling your brain, offering you warmth when you were so cold, it ate away at your resolve. “I’ll try.”

You offered a sort-of smile, nodding again to confirm to even yourself you were fine, everything was okay. Back colliding with the plush of the mattress, you cozied yourself underneath the thin blanket provided to you, rolled onto your side. Your eyes fluttered closed, soaking in the comfort and easing your mind.

The next day, you held a place ahead of Eun-Shin, in an organized line to be served a box of pre-made food, paired with a bottled water. You accepted the items, sparing barely a glance at the guard handing it to you, promptly retreating to the stairs by your respective bed, opening the packaged food. You stared blankly at the food, scraping through it using the spork, waiting for Eun-Shin to join you. Were you really wanting him to join you or did you just expect him to?

“You should eat,” Encouraged one, that’s all you knew him as, holding his own meal and drink within his hands, positioned in front of you, your eyes drawn to his face, surprised by his presence.

“It’s fine. I’ll let someone else have it,” You assured, casting one, final glance at the food before covering it with the lid once more, sealing it away. You wrung your hands, strangely nervous under his eyes, something so intimidating about him that you couldn’t help but be intrigued—a thrum of anticipation striking your chest.

“Are you sure?”

Before you could respond, Eun-Shin lounged beside you on the stairs, sliding the tin lid from the container. You pushed your food into his hands, eager to remove the weight from your hands. “Take this. I don’t want it,” You explained, hands cradling your face when the object left your care.

“Are you gonna introduce me to your friend here?” Eun-Shin raised an eyebrow, chewing a bite of food and savoring the taste, the end of his spork waved toward the tiebreaker.

“One. Read the patch,” You instructed, the patch an obvious signification of his label.

“I’m Eun-Shin,” He extended a hand, clearly referencing his actual name, offering a handshake to the male, something within his eyes calculative.

“Young-Il,” One took the hand, firmly giving it a shake, a friendly smile on his face. The handshake appeared to signal more than just a friendly introduction, a tension you couldn’t pinpoint. And as the three of you conversed back and forth, you observed the two skeptically.

Conversation simmered to a close as the newly trio finished eating—or at least Eun-Shin, and Young-Il, as he introduced, were, the latter of the two deciding to approach some other contestants to get a better feel for the environment and what was to come, promising updates to you—saying such while his eyes only acknowledged you. Eun-Shin’s posture shifted, a questioning glimmer in his eyes.

“He’s weird, don’t you think?” He mentioned, eyes flickering between the details of your face and the area said person chatted, speaking animatedly with the previous winner, their discussion unknown to you—but it did entice your curiosity.

“As weird as anyone else in here,” You shrugged, eyes fixated on the 001 tag on the back of his jacket, a lump of intrigue puddling your skull. Within the confines of this hell hole, all of them were sinners, bound by fate to be unhinged, a desperation that reached inhumane standards. Your mouth welcomed a sip of water, eyebrow quirking. “What makes you say that?”

“Just seems off,” Eun-Shin claimed, eyes averting to his clasped hands, recalling a thought you weren’t aware of. “He seems… dangerous.”

An amused laugh could’ve escaped your lips at the statement—this entire circumstance was dangerous. Compared to the uncertainty of everything, Young-Il would be the least of your concerns. “Danger doesn’t scare me,” You retorted, donning an amused smile. If he was trying to instill fright, it would only prove futile, given your motives for even obliging with these games—it excited you.

He shot you a serious look. “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t trust him,” He sighed, shaking his head dismissively, surrendering to your indifference, making you ponder what he perceived that left him guarded. “Just be careful if you hang around him, yeah?”

You nodded slowly while processing the statement, neck craning to examine him, features puzzled- brows knitted. “What makes you care what happens? We aren’t friends,” You pressed, a small persistence in your pursuit of solitude, one more attempt to push him away, for better or worse.

“We’re partners, though,” He reasoned, causing you even more confusion, but you listened silently, toying with the idea. Being teammates would supply benefits for both of you. “Next game, let’s team up. We’ll help each other.”

“What if you can’t trust me?” You rebutted, mirth swirling in the depths of [E/C] eyes, the corners of your lips twitching upward in the slightest. You gauged his reaction, awaiting the hesitancy—awaiting him to revoke the invitation.

“I’ll get you back then,” Eun-Shin remarked, elbowing you in the side, his mood radiating, feeling the rays of it infect your mood, almost sickeningly so. Even in the dimmest of moments, there was light.

“Not if you’re dead,” You challenged, deadpan, strict in allowing genuine happiness to infect you—but even you couldn’t deny the feelings seeping into your heart, the weight of empathy and blossoming friendships. How could you have predicted this outcome when dialing that number?

“Because you’ll be dead with me,” He argued, your expression heavily amused despite the grim possibility looming ahead.

Eyes were lured to the altercation unfolding in the center of the dormitory. Player 124 restrained 333’s arms, the latter squirming in his grasp, hands feebly attempting to claw at anything they could reach. 124’s companion, the lavender-haired boy, struck the flesh of his face relentlessly, bruising the supple skin until he slammed to the floor, his violence not finishing there as he launched his foot at 333’s body, distributing all his strength into each kick.

Your hands twitched, about to jump to your feet and intervene mindlessly, but Eun-Shin stopped you, an arm stretched across your form, being a gate to obstruct your movements. “Don’t,” He muttered, glaring at the scene, indifferent to the duo practically trampling the other player. “You can’t go up against two guys,” His statement didn’t relent in spiking your irritation, but you remained sat on the stair, jaw clenched.

“Why don’t you get up then?” You grumbled, smacking the limb away from you.

“Why do you care?” Eun-Shin raised an eyebrow, a faux puzzlement within his features, tone surprisingly mocking as if daring you to oppose. “I thought you didn’t care about anyone—what about the prize money you need so much?”

“You’re right. I don’t,” You agreed, nails digging into your skin to divert the irritation singing your veins. After all, he was right, you shouldn’t be getting involved in nonsensical matters of other people—people you didn’t care about, strangers to you.

“Anyway, I don’t think we should make enemies in here. Let’s stay as neutral as possible,” He planned, nodding his head decisively. “We’re an X and O team, so it makes sense, right?“

“You’re right,” You sighed, head propped against your palm, eyes squinted at the violence.

“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?” Your posture straightened when you heard the sound of his voice, focus centered on the familiar player striding toward the trio, a confidence in his stride. Of course, it made sense as to why it would be him to intervene—he was a likable person, the peacemaker type sort-of, caring about others. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners. And two against one?” His movements paused, flashing a judging stare, eyes coldly sweeping over them. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shit hole too?” 230 raised his arms, pushing them down again in a swift and erratic motion, approaching the one to interrupt them, his patch tainted by the blood of other’s. “Dude, stop running your mouth,” His hands mimicked a blabbering mouth, gesturing in Young-Il’s face. “And take care of your own damn kids.”

“What did you just say?” One’s expression seemed to turn colder, cold indifference evident within his eyes, a quiet fury you wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of, although a shred of you admired the courage he harbored to rise, rather than sit back and let the events conspire—you being too closeted from your feelings to be capable. You leaned in closer, eyes witnessing the scene with bated breath.

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kid,” Purple hair persisted, taking a brave step forward.

Young-Il grabbed his neck, fingers stiff against a pressure point on his nape, rendering him almost entirely immobile. His accomplice joined the fight to provide support, unable to accomplish even a single punch before one delivered a sharp, directed kick above his ankle, 124 cradling the limb in his hands, barking out in pain. Sending a final blow to his knee, 124’s back hit the floor, moaning in pain while he rolled across it.

“I told you, he’s dangerous,” Eun-Shin whispered, your eyes being peeled away from the events occurring beyond you, wanting nothing more than to roll your eyes at the comment—why was he so insistent?

“Okay, he knows how to fight, I’ll give you that,” You responded, tone low, so they wouldn’t escape to prying ears. “But when you think about it, we’re all just as dangerous to one another. Look at the situation we’re in.”

“I know, I know, but come on, it’s not normal to have that much precision in combat, think about it,” Your temporary partner insisted, motioning with his eyes to the altercation happening before them—where 230’s face was being pummeled, body slung across the floor when the exchange finished. Crouching to his level, Young-Il settled hard fingers around his throat, fist raised in threat while his opponent sputtered.

“I’m sorry,” Choked 230, fingers making a flimsy attempt at prying his hand off. “Please… Let me go…”

The dormitory erupted with claps as Young-Il returned to full stature, his grasp on the player abandoned, processing the praise oozing from fellow players. Even you found your hands smacking together in tandem with the crowd, a bubbly feeling spilling into your veins, uplifting your spirits—a rush, but not from adrenaline.

His eyes lifted from the floor, catching yours instantly, being situated in his direct line of view, as if he had known where to look from the start. You acknowledged the stare with a curt nod, forcing a subtle smile to speak wordless approval—like a good job. His shoulders settled slightly after that, the tension diminishing in his muscles, a sort-of relieved expression coating his face.

Head bowed, a bashful smile creeping onto his face from the overwhelming support, his hand traced the back of his head, retreating from the center of the room promptly, haste in escaping the attention. Your eyes followed, curiosity engulfing them— and if you were a cat, your lives were sure to run out.

Your clapping slowly came to a halt as you noticed Eun-Shin’s silence, his hands not in a clap, not moving at all, his expression rid of amusement. “What’s wrong?” You pried, an eyebrow quirked.

“I just don’t trust him,” Eun-Shin shook his head, disregarding the conversation completely. Looking closely, you could notice the clench in his jaw, the twitch in his brow.

“What happened to being neutral? Not making enemies?”

“We’re not enemies, I just don’t trust him,” He clarified matter-of-factly, appearing satisfied with that response, ending the conversation short, and leaving you to sit there, trying to configure the deeper meaning.

Arousing the players’ attention, the buzzer signaled that the doors were opening, a barrage of guards entering, the overhead voice greeting the players, robotically animated, “Attention, please! The second game will begin momentarily. Please follow the instructions from our staff,” Guards stationed themselves in a line at the center of the room, weapons on full display—to intimidate the players, ward them away from the idea of protest. Truly addressing you like the trash you were.

Eun-Shin helped you up, the pair of you walking toward the middle, as everyone else was, but maintaining a safe distance from the guards. Your chest tightened, unsure what to expect, but fright wasn’t a feeling that struck you. You studied the contestants around you, scanning for familiar faces amongst the surge of players. Young-Il - 456 - 222, all littered the crowd.

Twenty-five stood next to you, a grim seriousness to his expression, brows creased together, a look on his face you wouldn’t typically see, the sight causing you query.

Bright pastels blessed your vision as the players traveled up the stairway, in an orderly line. You were gifted the view of the back of 222’s head, mimicking her footsteps. Left, then right. Eun-Shin hovered behind you, analyzing the pathways as his shoes padded against each stair.

Eventually, you all arrived at a set of doors, which opened to reveal a large room, two circular rainbows decorating the floor, various guards stationed on either side. “Welcome to your second game,” The intercom echoed, the players’ minds brewing. “This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes.”

Eun-Shin poked you, signaling to accompany him. The pair of you conducted a sweep over the other players, picking and choosing who would be the most fitting. Unknowing of what the game would include, picking people proved difficult—but you didn’t really care about who was on your team, the less you knew the better. The risk could only heighten the experience.

You familiarized yourself with your new teammates. One female, patch labeled 30, and two males, their patches reading 77 and 155. Eun-Shin handled the duration of talking, having the friendlier demeanor out of you two. In a way, you felt pushed out of the loop, having the conversation steered from you, standing still and assuring yourself this was for the best.

“Can I join your team?” A small voice grabbed your attention, making you shift to face the person it emitted from. 222. A pang of sympathy hit you at the recollection of her pregnant state, but your team had filled quick—as well, no one in it seemed necessarily useful.

“We’re full now, but I’ll help you find a better team,” You assured calmly, letting your makeshift ‘partner’ know you would return in a moment, unsure why you made the decision to aid her. Stealing a glance at the X patch on her chest, your stomach knotted, the O patch suddenly feeling heavier.

Sifting through the bustle of the crowd, shoulders narrowly dodging other players, her hand grasped the fabric of your jacket to keep balance, your eyes scouring the crowd, though you weren’t sure what to look for. Soon enough, your eyes spotted a patch reading 001—a familiar enough face that you felt 222 would be in capable hands, even if Eun-Shin would state otherwise.

“She’s joining your group,” You stated soundly, gently nudging the girl toward them, disrupting whatever conversation consumed them previously. Your face exuded the lack of willingness to anything less than.

“Uh, sorry, we’ve already got five people,” 390 gestured to their newest acquaintance, eyes drifting between the pair, an awkward and apologetic smile strewn on his face. You glowered behind the girl, lips pressed into a thin line, your empty gaze analyzing Young-Il to occupy the seconds, his eyes just as cold, unsuspecting.

222’s hand settled against her rounded stomach, giving the group a pleading stare. “Please help me. I’m pregnant,” She persisted, their eyes trailing to her stomach on reflex, as if to confirm her words.

The shift in their features was evident, the discussion of whether to let her join blatant. They wouldn’t have the heart to turn away someone pregnant, remains of respect still intact within their morals. Spinning around, 222’s head dipped, thanking you for the help. You offered a small smile in return before sauntering off, ignorant to the rest of the group teeming with curiosity. Eun-Shin had been speaking animatedly to your team when you regrouped, a part of you wishing to do the same.

“Time for team selection is up. The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one,” The intercom explained to the players, cogs turning in your brain as it processed. “Here are the mini games; Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, spinning top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini games and cross the finish line in five minutes.”

“What game do you want?” Eun-Shin’s eyes were directed to you, gifting you the first pick. His features were a mixture of nervousness and an unusual confidence, his brain at work on unknown subjects. On the other hand, your heart pulsed, the speed at which it beat picking up, perspiration slight on your hands—a heavenly combination, but a mere buzz compared to the rush of adrenaline.

“I’ll do Ddakji,” You answered with ease, thrumming your fingers along your knee as you enjoyed the feeling washing over you, mischief clouding your mind. “You?”

His eyes were contemplative for a moment, squinting as he thought. “I’ll do Gong-gi,” He shifted, abruptly turning his head to ask the other players their roles between the last three options, discussing briefly until they reached a conclusion. His eyes connected to yours, flashing a small smile. “30 is doing Jegi. 77 is doing Spinning Top, and 155 will do Flying Stone.”

You nodded, showing your approval on the matter. “Sounds good.”

“Team one and two, get ready,” The overhead speech sounded, the respective teams lining up on opposite sides, their feet being cuffed together—a mutual effort having to be put forth.

You watched in wait of the tribulations to occur, to which you would merely observe, sit there, uncaring and unflinching if their bodies fell. Their arms hugged, swallowing any fear cursing their being, the smallest beads of sweat dribbling down their faces to display stress.

“Do you think they’ll do well?” You could hear Eun-Shin’s inquisitive murmur to the rest of your team, their answers not privy to you—you weren’t upset, you instilled into your head, you should’ve expected to be sidelined- you weren’t even friends, only a beneficial exchange of resources, both of you sharing an utter lack of skill. It was the familiarity from the first day that kept you together.

“Let the game begin,” The feminine voice declared, a shot springing from a square guard’s pistol, the time’s devastating tick beginning its toll— the players hobbling forward, carefulness in their walk, chanting out “One, two,” to track each step until they arrived to the first mini game.

Your eyes darted from the clock back to one of the teams, watching the designated player brush his lips against the blue square piece, striving for even a wisp of luck, focused on the opposing origami settled on the flooring. Slamming the blue onto the folded paper, it successfully flipped the red tile, the men exchanging cheerful glances - already off to a good start, wasting no time at all. Peering over to the team opposite, their side wasn’t as lucky, their succession having not been accomplished.

“Please do not step over the line,” The intercom reminded, the leading team trying their hand at flying stone. Missing the first throw, they released disgruntled groans, the luck not accompanying them to the next game. Arms drawing close, they wobbled forward, tripping over their feet and collapsing, creating a hard-to-watch spectacle for the next participants. Seeds of mischief infected your mind at the sight.

“It’s pitiful, in a way,” Eun-Shin whispered, attention flocking back to after the conversation with the others grew dull. Amused eyes flew to him, indifferent to what he spoke, the importance of it. “The time is too short, and there’s so many hurdles..”

“Your gong-gi better be good then,” You commented, planting your expectations, assured by your own skill within your chosen game- the premise being simple, an intentional decision.

“Come on, you picked the easiest one,” He stated, and your lips twitched, the words ringing true.

“But I’m relying on luck,” You provided a frail defense, undermining the skillset to weaken his confidence, keeping hush about your knowledge of ‘tactics’ in the game, “There’s no tactic to it.”

“You… don’t have any tactic?”

Your smile widened at the uncertainty dwelling his tone, directing your attention back to the struggling players. “Don’t you think it’s more fun without one?” You pondered, eyes fixed on the team stuck on flying stone, studying the panic that slowly intruded their faces, time ticking on carelessly.

“Not if it gets me killed,” Eun-Shin’s eyebrow twitched, sweat ridden hands clasped together, disbelief pooling his being. Only amusement seeped vivaciously from you, thoroughly entertained by his reactions.

“All of us would die with you, don’t feel too bad,” You added and motioned to the dampness of his palms, the only evidence of his fragmented nerves. “Are you gonna be able to play gong-gi with those?”

“Are you good at gong-gi?” His whisper stunned you, eyes skeptically flitting to him, the question only raising hesitancy within you.

“Why do you ask?”

“If you want to test your luck, shouldn’t you do something more difficult? The stakes are higher,” Eun-Shin’s composure emanated confidence, shoulders straightening, as if proposing a challenge, something you wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - turn away from. You did less stakes only for their wellbeings. “Ddakji is easy to come back from. Gong-gi, on the other hand,” His gaze landed on the team struggling at said game, a gesture to show proof of his claim.

“Okay. I’ll play gong-gi then,” You agreed, [E/C] eyes sweeping across him, the tension within his body appearing soothed- the pace of your heartbeat increasing as you shouldered the most substantial gamble of your life. Anxious, but thrilled. “Seems like you’re too scared.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to be the reason we fail,” He confessed, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, sight downcasted. “I know I’m a coward.”

“You are, but you also voted out,” You could feel the weight of the O patch, the bloodshed it consisted of, stomach bunched into knots at the toll of your decision. “You didn’t wanna be here, so it only makes sense for me to carry that weight. Well, as long as no one else kills us first, right?”

“I think you can do it,” Eun-Shin asserted. “You’re good at stressful things.”

The timer eventually beeped, signaling the end of the first round, gunshots raining down on the failed players, presenting a stark reminder to what would occur if you were unable to cross the finish line. Your teammates instinctively ducked from the sound, sheltering themselves. Eyebrows knitted, you viewed the gore blankly, distancing yourself from the severity and permanence of it all.

“The following players have been eliminated. Players 16, 45, 178, 189,” The intercom listed, indifferent to the brutality. “198, 254, 286, 341, 395, and 416.”

“We should have left!” Someone stood, shouting defiantly toward the side of the room your team occupied. Everyone’s eyes flocked to the perpetrator, his eyes drifting from person to person. “We’re all gonna die now! We’re all gonna die because of those who voted to continue!” The knot in your stomach tightened, but a sick part of you reveled in the detriment of it all. “What are you going to do now? You think you can survive? Look at them!”

You glanced at Eun-Shin, you didn’t know why- perhaps a shrivel of you hoping he would say something in disagreement to offer a semblance of assurance, but he remained silent, staring down at his hands, a silent agreement lingering in the air. The man spoke correctly, after all.

“Attention, please. Players, please wait while we tidy up the venue,” On cue, guards proceeded into the room, operating a forklift donning a set of coffins, pink taping stretched across the sides, meshing to form a bow at the lid. Your eyes traced the bodies aligned within the circular rainbow, dried blood splattered across their tracksuits, the guards carrying coffins to place them inside. The scene didn’t quell anyone’s unease on the games.

“Open it,” Ordered a guard to the subordinates, who rose to full stature, in slight defiance. “That’s an order,” The pair of circles pried the lid from the coffin respectively, showcasing the body inside to the triangle. They peered in, lodging two more gunshots into the flesh- the reason of such, you were oblivious, but it left an eery impression.

“The next teams, please get ready,” The intercom chimed, stirring you from the daze that encapsulated you, the thud of your heart bleeding out across your eardrums.

Twenty-five tugged your jacket, rising to his feet assuredly—having the easiest game to accomplish, of course his worries diminished. Brow quirked, he smiled slightly, which didn’t dissuade the anxiety pooling your stomach, a light buzz of adrenaline supplying some comfort. “Getting scared?”

Standing beside your group, the majority of players observing carefully, you shot him a soft glare. “I’m not a coward like you,” You declined, shaking your head to dismiss the brave claim. Gaze averting, you scanned the terrain, processing the pitied stares you received, exhaling to free yourself of care. If you died, so be it.

The group you were apart of stepped up to one of the rainbows, determined smiles exchanged among them, a sense of courage possessing their spirits. You were smushed between 77 and 155, arms entangled, 30 and Eun-Shin on either side of the line—your movements being reliant on others felt odd.

“Teams three and four, get ready,” Your eyes slid to the panicked faces stationed across from you, 120’s and the elderly woman’s recognizable faces within it. 95 seemed to be on the verge of tears, mustering every last bit of restraint to stay composed- another woman prayed incessantly, chanting out.

“We’ve got this,” Eun-Shin encouraged, acting bravado for the team’s sake. “Don’t panic, don’t stress.”

The gunshot rang, your team making hurried, but synced, steps toward the first game. The guard clutched a rectangular shape, the ddakji pieces resting inside, waiting to be taken. Eun-Shin picked the blue square, the guard dropping the red, flat on the ground in response, ignoring the sounds from the opposite team.

He stiffened, eyes narrowing in concentration, adjusting the ddakji piece in his hand before slamming it down- successfully flipping the rival piece. The guard created an O symbol with their arms, the intercom announcing they’d passed.

You hobbled forward, adrenaline flooding your veins the closer you got to your game, the time’s tick dreadfully slow. Only one more game, and then you’re up.

155 was quick to retrieve the stone, knees bending to crouch, envisioning the throw as he modified the aim, you watched, spread from him—as far as the restraints allowed—granting him more space to perfect the toss. Seconds- that dragged on like hours -escaped you, his hand finally giving a steady jerk, the stone smacking the piece in the center, tumbling over. Assuring their pass, the guard gestured an O, your group teeming with smiles.

Courage filled your teammates as you waddled to gong-gi, the 4 minutes that remained, a good sign, and the eruption of cheers serving as encouragement. You slid the pieces into your hand, the guard positioning the platform on the floor.

You leveled with the surface, tossing the five weighted pieces onto it. You tossed one into the air, slipping another into your clutches, repeating the motions until you missed a catch—the purposeful dodge quite evident to everyone spectating, 3:40 bright on the clock, drawing concerned glances.

“Sorry, my hand slipped,” You excused feebly, lacking any seriousness to your tone, restarting the ordeal from the beginning before you, again, slipped up on the second round, the pieces scattering across the black form and another fail dispelling from the intercom. Your teammates panicked, stressed from the reoccurring fails.

“Take this more seriously, come on, we still have two games left,” 30 scolded, eyebrows pulled near, fingers wrung together to soothe the anxiety that bubbled into irritation.

Blank [E/C] eyes caught a glimpse of the speaker. “My hands must be sweaty,” The palms of your hands scraped across the fabric of your jacket erratically, frantic to dry your hands.

“Okay, stop, just try again,” Eun-Shin lead, prying your hands from the clothing and guiding them back to the board. “We still have time, don’t panic.”

You threw the five pieces across the small table, tossing one into the air and hastily retrieving another, mimicking the motions repeatedly until all of them grouped in your hand. Again, you scattered the pieces along the board, propelling one into the air and then snaking two more pieces into your grasp— cycling through the movements, the risk of dropping them increasing with each round. Finally reaching the climax of the game that would decide your fates, dormant beads balanced on your knuckles. Eyes fixated on them, you thought briefly- you could end everything here.

You heaved the pieces into the air, your teammates looking on with concern strewn on their features, sweat lining their skin, and you caught the gong-gi toys in your fist, unraveling your fingers to show the guard the achievement.

“Pass.”

Your teammates cheered- and you could hear fellow contestants praising the efforts demonstrated, a flutter of something entangling your chest at the connection everyone shared in that moment. As you neared the next game, your eyes tore through the crowd, the prided faces of individuals eliciting a genuine smile from you, the warmth overwhelming.

77’s hands weaved the string around the top, doing so quickly but cautiously, not wanting to take the unnecessary risks you did (on purpose!)—2:30 seconds remained, providing a decent amount of time for them to secure a place passed the finish line.

“Don’t panic, it’s okay if you mess up, clearly,” 155 soothed, casting a pointed glance at you. 77 nodded, looking between the two of you, fingers poised around the top delicately before he projected it across the floor- the toy steadying itself by rapidly spinning, more of the crowd rising to witness the events with open eyes.

“You got it!” 30 beamed, prepared for the final role upon them, the five of you folding your arms more closely, an unspoken surge of certainty rushing through all of you.

“You must kick the jegi five times,” The overhead instructed, 30 pulling the reflective toy into her hands, giving it a gentle pitch into the air, leg positioned to strike it. The thud of her shoe hitting the toy grasped you, the last testament to if you survived or not—something about your life in the hold of someone else filling you with even more adrenaline, attention narrowed on the pound of your heart.

“That’s five!” She cheered, gripping 77- if they were unrestrained, she would’ve leapt for joy.

Eun-Shin grinned, giving 155 a slight shake. “Let’s go, we can finish this, we have plenty of time,” He gestured them to move forward in tandem, 1:30 minutes flashing on the clock, the chants of the crowd spurring you to move faster- the feeling encompassing you the greatest rush you’d ever felt.

Once the ribbon at the end of the line was torn in two, you could hear the shouts of the spectators, all in mutual excitement at the victory, even your teammates cried out, an embrace shared between the group that was unexpectedly kind, an affection nearly foreign to you.

You spotted 222 apart of the mass, hopping eagerly like everyone else around her- to the concern of her team-sending a smile in your direction that you managed to return, a genuine one. The double victory proof that everyone could succeed.

After your ankles were freed, the teams reigning triumph were escorted out by some guards, the pep in all of your steps evident- the close encounter with death ushering relief into their systems at what didn’t happen, savoring the closeness to their companions within the present, unknowing if the next game would shatter it.

“Good job, everyone,” Eun-Shin complimented the lingering players, determination a flood in his eyes, but a sense of unease still drummed within them.

Back in the clutches of the dormitory, everyone distanced themselves, retreating to the usual places they lounged. However, the remainder of your teammates joined you at your spot, involved in conversation with Eun-Shin that didn’t require your input. Your head inclined, being supported by the frame of the beds, quiet as your rush ebbed, consumed by a daze.

More and more people filed into the room, a silence washing over the dormitory, the dwellers talking amongst one another- the shock of the previous moments diminishing as they cozied inside. [E/C] eyes studied the blood staining your shoe, the white now speckled and tarnished by a putrid red. You wondered if that had been 222’s fate—or even Young-Il’s, the regret of your vote clinging.

“Come on, cheer up, we got through it,” Eun-Shin’s elbow jabbed your side playfully, his new companions’ eyes shifted to gauge your reaction, lips pulled into a frown at the gesture. “It makes me think we could get through anything,” He smiled at the other three, the trio laughing in agreement, but the comment puzzled you.

Eventually, the door opened one last time, presenting the final batch of players to make it out- 222 among them, a touch of relief easing the tension in your posture. Eun-Shin hesitated, the words on his tongue simmering as his attention, like everyone else’s, landed on the group. You managed a small smile as they plodded by, their own, heavy eyes trailing across the contestants left warily- 222 shooting a little wave in your direction.

After everyone settled, piecing together frayed nerves, the buzzer blared, the door making way for the pink-clad guards. “Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game. Here are the results,” The square clicked a button, the lights dimming in an instant- the piggy bank eating more stacks of cash, persuasive to the temptations of players. “In the second game, 110 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person’s share is 78,823,530 won.”

“It’s still under 100 million?”

“It’s not even 80 million.”

“Only 110 people died? Is that all?” Everyone’s intentions were keen to the money, frantic and indifferent toward the bloodshed. Morals wore thin, desperation blatant. It reminded you of the person you were before arriving, the moments spent here supplying an opposite effect. “Did you count them right?”

“That’s all? But you shot all those people!”

“Count them again!” 100 demanded, the features on his face wrinkled, soured.

“I completely understand your disappointment. However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not,” The square mediated, the doors behind him parting to allow a pair of guards to roll the vote buttons inside. “Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice,” Circles arranged the buttons in the front center of the room, just below the stairs. “Feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner.”

Hand flat against the patch on your chest, you were certain on what decision you’d make, standing to your feet and heading to the back of the room, huddled among everyone else- a flock of aimless sheep in a pen. Your eyes portrayed no indications of your partner, quickly abandoning question about his whereabouts in exchange for rivaling thoughts, always engulfed by the space.

“This time, the vote will begin with Player 001,” The guard explained. “Player 001, please cast your vote.”

Your eyes were fixed on him, ambling toward the red and blue buttons, a sureness in his stride. The sound of the button resounded, filling the spacious room, his vote slotted under the X, surrendering the circular patch for an X one. You witnessed a few more people strut forward, making their own decisions of whether they should stay or leave, the votes maintaining a steady balance between the options.

“Player 011.”

Heaving a sigh, you approached the set of buttons, hand pressing your chosen button without hesitation. You peeled the weighted O patch off, trading it for an X one and flattening it to the velcro. You stood close to Young-Il on the red side, his friendly smile an assurance that your decision was proper, melting away any anxieties.

“What changed your mind?” His cool eyes darted to you, using this chance to speak to you without interruption. His eyes traced your features under the blue-red lighting, memorizing each crease.

“Just seemed right,” You brewed, lips pressed into a thin line, [E/C] eyes studying the intricacies of his face briefly before peering at the voters- joining either red or blue. “You?”

He nodded in response to your reasoning, not acting on the curiosity spawned in his eyes. “I’m just ready to be done with this, I think most of us are,” He sighed, wringing his hands, a dry chuckle leaving his throat—his sentiment something you agreed on.

“Player 025,” You shifted your attention from the conversation to Eun-Shin, his back facing you. His gaze strayed between the votes casted, back to the buttons present- finally pressing the O, adding yet another vote to supply the blue. Your mouth hung slightly ajar, the decision stunning you.

“Did you not know?” Young-Il inclined his head toward you, the volume of his voice low, clearly referencing your so-called partner’s vote, diverting your attention.

“No,” You admitted. “It doesn’t affect me though.”

Dark eyes studied you, and it felt as if he could see right through your words, staring into depths even you weren’t aware of. “He should’ve told you, but I understand your feelings,” He spoke, a hand hovering over your back as an attempt at comfort, smiling assuredly and retracting the light touch.

The corner of your lip quirked, the gentle motion oddly considerate. “I appreciate it, Young-Il,” You bowed your head in thanks, bashful under his scrutiny- his undivided attention placed on you.

His eyes shone in realization. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” He pointed out, a finger gestured toward you, lips slightly curved- the thought having never crossed your mind. “I got your friend’s but never yours.”

“We aren’t friends,” You corrected softly, stealing a peak at him, the defiance in your eyes small. “But it’s [Y/N],” You answered after a moment of pause, a slight bafflement riddling your features. “Not even Eun-Shin knows that.”

His eyebrow twitched, a gleam of something unknown swirling his eyes, expression unreadable to you. “I’ll be sure to remember it then.”

You both stared back at the wavering votes, a player having just casted his vote, the O’s snatching the leading place—33 to the 36, leaving everyone in suspense of what side would win.

“Everyone!” 456 commanded the crowd’s attention, no matter the separation of the groups, gesturing his arms to gather everyone’s focus. Young-Il left your side, approaching the walkway- at the line drawn between the sides, your eyes following unabashed.

“Are you all out of your minds?” He shouted, scanning each of the faces scattering the O section. “You still want to keep going after watching all those people die? Who’s to say you won’t die in the next game?” He stressed, irritation puddling his features, baffled at their decisions.

“We have to stop,” He insisted, striding down the line, his cold gaze sweeping across the players. “We’ll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money. You’ve got to survive first, or there won’t be a next step,” His arms swung, trying to drill the explanation into their heads- desperate to escape.

“What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?” 100 stepped forward, his determination to stay unaffected. “I don’t know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn’t even cover 10% of their debt. Am I right?” He looked around, pointing to the crowd, seeking approval from fellow O’s. “There’s no next step for us! That money won’t change anything!”

“With that amount of money, I won’t last long,” A member of his posse spat, his finger aimed at the golden hue of light above them, stacks and stacks of cash illuminated.

“It was 25 million after the first game, now it’s 78 million. After one game, the amount more than tripled!” 100 emphasized, steering the conversation in his favor. “If we play one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million!”

“But I can’t do this anymore,” A girl whimpered, your eyes scouring the area for the source- finding that anxious girl from earlier, 95. Tears puddled on her cheeks, the dampness glistening beneath the crimson lighting. You swallowed thickly, the sob lacing her voice tying knots in your stomach. “Please. Please let me out of here…” She blinked, glancing away from the array of eyes fixed on her. “I really want to go home… I don’t want to die…”

“Young lady, you’re young, so you’d probably have another chance,” Another man offered sympathy, watery eyes squinted as he maintained a semblance of composure. “But I don’t.”

95’s fingers tangled, clasping in plea. “Please,” She croaked, trembling.

“My family and I have no future,” He sniffled, expanding on his perspective. “My business failed, and now I owe over 500 million. I’ve got to make at least half of that here if I want a real shot at a fresh start.”

“What if you die here?” Young-Il interjected. “If you die here, your family won’t even get your body. Then it’d be the end for you and your family,” He raised his voice, and you could visibly see the gears shifting in the previous man’s head, staring down at the floor- in shame or contemplation. “Don’t you see?”

“Don’t get fucking scared!” A man released, not sharing the sentiment, perhaps not understanding it. “Ddakji, red light, green light, spinning top. It’s not like the games are that difficult,” He spun around, lacking empathy toward the eliminated players. “Look,” He directed everyone’s gaze. “There are still 255 players. Way more than half of us survived! We’ve made it this far, so let’s do it one more time!”

Your eyes connected with Eun-Shin’s, both of your features cold and saddled with the realization of the awkwardness, now situated on opposite sides of the spectrum- where tensions were rising. After every moment you’d shared with him, it felt strange seeing him with the blue patch, the choice seeming out of character. But evidently, this place stirred change- the chants of the people to stay evidence of that, disregarding the grave consequences.

Young-Il garnered your attention by resting a hand on your shoulder, muscles giving a jolt at the unexpected contact. “Are you okay?” His face served as a strange comfort amidst the morphing surroundings, scrunched with concern as his eyes darted around your face.

“I’m alright, I was just surprised by his choice,” You explained, features troubled- brows furrowed, lips pressed thin. Your voice lowered, addressing yourself more so than Young-Il, “He never struck me as the type.”

“This place changes people,” Young-Il sighed, gaze casted toward the rise and fall of the votes- an almost disappointed gleam in his eyes. He then looked to you, providing a hopeful expression. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses, if we don’t leave today.”

“Maybe,” You sighed, accepting defeat.

The votes between O and X rampaged onward, remaining at a steady balance until the number of O’s became overwhelming, outnumbering the votes to leave. “The results are 139 for O and 116 for X,” The guard announced, dread washing over most of the X voters. On the other hand, you didn’t find yourself harboring any feelings of disappointment or relief, remaining unbothered. “Based on the majority vote, we’ll proceed to the third game tomorrow. Thank you.”

With that being said, you returned to your usual nesting place, the red patch on your chest gathering fleeting glances by O contestants. Eun-Shin approached you cautiously, lip jutted, awkward to speak to you.

“Are you scared to talk to me?” You prodded, looking up to him, unimpressed. Your voice appeared to surprise him as he situated himself beside you hastily. “What made you vote to stay?”

“Yesterday, remember? You decided to continue because of your debt, I’m doing the same,” Eun-Shin answered, wringing his hands, eyes dropping to the limbs before shifting to you. “What made you vote to leave?”

“It’s just a waste,” You shrugged, throwing out the first thing that came to mind to lessen the amount it appeared you care.

“Is it a risk you can’t take?” Eun-Shin challenged, bumping his shoulder against yours. He then offered a hand to you, a truce, that you could either accept or decline- a slight puzzlement consuming your face. “We’re still an X and O team, partners- all neutral?”

Your eyes drifted between the outstretched hand and his face, mulling over the words contemplatively.

“Only because you’re so insistent,” You smacked his hand away, refusing to shake it.

—

sorry to cut it off at this BUT. i wanted to put a chapter out for you guys 🤲

also i accidentally misarranged the sequence of events 💀 so pls ignore that it won’t happen again

anyway, thank you all for the love on this, hope you enjoy! (also i am so sorry if my characterization for in-ho is terrible 🤲😭)

[kathlare]

fractured reflections

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: During a late night at a wedding reception in Madrid, emotions run high as Lando struggles with unresolved feelings about the past.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

December 3rd, 2022 - Madrid, Spain

The wedding reception had been a whirlwind of laughter, music, and endless glasses of champagne. Lando had been in good spirits—at first. He’d smiled through the toasts, danced with Carlos and a few of his cousins, and joked with the other guests at his table. But as the night dragged on, the buzz of excitement that had carried him through the evening began to fade, replaced by a hollow ache he couldn’t shake.

It was past midnight now, and the reception was winding down. The bride and groom had left hours ago, but Lando remained firmly planted at the open bar, nursing yet another whiskey. The once-cozy warmth of the celebration now felt suffocating, and the sound of laughter from the remaining guests only amplified the weight in his chest.

Carlos found him slumped against the bar, his tie loosened and his usually bright eyes glassy and red.

—Lando, tío, come on. It’s time to head back to the hotel,— Carlos said, clapping a hand on Lando’s shoulder. His tone was light, but there was a hint of concern in his voice.

Lando looked up at him, his expression a mix of frustration and sorrow. —I’m not ready to leave. Just... one more drink,— he mumbled, though his slurred words made it clear he didn’t need any more.

Carlos sighed, glancing at the bartender and shaking his head to signal no more drinks for his friend. —You’ve had enough, mate. Let’s go.—

—Why does she hate me, Carlos?— Lando blurted out suddenly, his voice cracking as he turned to face him fully.

Carlos froze for a moment, taken aback. He had a good idea of who Lando was talking about—he’d suspected for a while now that there had been something more than friendship between Lando and Amelie. But this was the first time Lando had ever said anything to confirm it.

—Lando...— Carlos started carefully, his voice low.

—She ignored me. She... she pretended I didn’t even exist in Abu Dhabi,— Lando continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. —I thought... I thought we were something. I mean, we were something, weren’t we? Or was it all just in my head?—

Carlos frowned, his heart aching for his friend. —Lando, I don’t think she hates you. She’s probably just...— He hesitated, unsure of how to finish the sentence without making things worse.

—She hates me,— Lando interrupted, his voice rising slightly. —I wasn’t enough for her. I was never enough. That’s why she left. That’s why she moved on.—

Carlos sighed, wrapping an arm around Lando’s shoulders to steady him. —Come on, mate. Let’s get you back to the hotel. We can talk about this in the morning when you’re not, you know, completely plastered.—

But Lando resisted, shaking his head as tears welled up in his eyes. —Why wasn’t I enough, Carlos? I tried. I tried to be there for her, but she was always so far away. And now she’s with that footballer...— He spat the last word like it was poison, his voice filled with bitterness.

Carlos led him out of the venue, nodding politely to a few curious onlookers as they passed. Lando stumbled slightly, his weight heavy against Carlos, but he kept talking, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and heartbreak.

—I miss her,— he admitted quietly as they reached the car waiting to take them back to the hotel. —I miss her so much, and she doesn’t even care.—

Carlos didn’t know what to say. He’d always suspected there was more to Lando and Amelie’s relationship than they’d let on, but hearing it spelled out like this was something else entirely. He wanted to comfort his friend, to tell him that everything would be okay, but he knew Lando wouldn’t believe it right now.

—Let’s get you to bed, and we’ll figure this out later, okay?— Carlos said firmly as he helped Lando into the car.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, save for Lando’s occasional sniffles. By the time they arrived, Lando was barely coherent, his head drooping against the car window. Carlos practically had to carry him to his room, muttering under his breath about how much of a lightweight Lando was.

Once they were inside, Carlos helped Lando onto the bed, pulling off his shoes and tossing them to the side.

—Get some sleep, mate. You’ll feel better in the morning,— Carlos said, pulling the blanket over him.

But as he turned to leave, Lando’s voice stopped him.

—Do you think she’s happy with him?— Lando asked, his words barely audible.

Carlos turned back, his expression softening. —I don’t know, Lando. But I know you deserve to be happy too. Maybe it’s time to let her go.—

Lando didn’t respond, his eyes closing as exhaustion finally overtook him. Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair before quietly leaving the room.

As he walked back to his own room, he couldn’t shake the image of Lando’s tear-streaked face from his mind. Whatever had happened between him and Amelie, it had clearly left a deep scar. Carlos only hoped that, somehow, they could both find a way to heal.