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earlysunshines · 13 days ago

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fright night

kim minji x reader

synopsis: in which your university’s halloween festival leads to you and minji beating around the bush — finally.

warnings: making out. like the best makeout scene i've written in a bit i think. ohmygdoajsdf ; minji is a loooooser but we all know this ; pining ; dumb gay women ; FLIRTING. they want each other SO BAD i was giggling writing this im ngl ; SO cute i loved writing this ohmygod ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: lately i’ve been going insane bc of minji like she’s just so gf… so… she’s so… i need her

kim minji is an idiot, she’s literally the dumbest person you know.

well, academically she’s actually a genius, but she’s clumsy and clueless nine times out of ten. unfortunately yet fortunately(?) for her, this is only more of the reason for you to be completely in love with her.

which is why your roommate is dealing with another one of your little attempts to deny your feelings again.

“i think i should just die.” you groan into yunjin’s bed. she watches you, your body lifeless after you roll over to face the ceiling. “everything was just normal.”

“‘just’ as in… a month ago…?” your roommate snickers, folding a t-shirt and placing it next to your torso. “i think you’re the only person i know who doesn’t enjoy being in love.”

yes: you’re in love with kim minji.

no: you do not enjoy being in love with her at all.

it’s not that she’s an asshole, it’s just the fact that everyone is also in love with her. she quite literally has a line of girls (and men, but none of them stand a chance) waiting for her. she’s kim minji, one of your mutual friends who happens to be the captain of the university’s soccer team—which is why the clumsy aspect of her is often overlooked. so to most, she’s just hot, but she’s more to you, much more.

and you? you’re just trying to get by. you’re not in the spotlight, you haven’t gotten hit on in months — you and minji are two worlds apart.

“this is a waste of time. she only sees me as a friend, she’s cute and athletic. compared to her the most astonishing thing i can do is make a t-shirt and wide-legged jeans to sell on depop.”

“you should make a t-shirt that says ‘kim minji i want you so bad please marry me—“

yunjin is cut off when her just-folded shirt is thrown right at her face. she groans and throws it right back at you.

“i hope you get the same fate as a side character in a horror film.” you groan, sitting up and glaring at her.

“aw, thanks.” she says dryly, rolling her eyes. “hey, speaking of horror… the halloween festival is soon. are you going?”

“i fear.” you sigh, shoulders sinking a bit.

your partner in crime outside of your dorm, danielle, had convinced you with a look filled with sparkly eyes and a sweet smile to help out with face painting. there would be a variety of people passing by and you were notoriously known for being able to draw really well despite being a fashion major. “art is art,” danielle had shrugged, and so she bribed you with some coffee to really commit to it.

“danielle got me to do the face painting stall.”

yunjin’s eyes widen as she sets down a sweater. “did she?”

“yeah. i’m the only one within the circle – other than hanni – who can draw more than a stick figure.”

“you’ve got that right.” yunjin snickers. “you think your wife will be there?”

“minji?” you tilt your head, to which yunjin responds with a raised brow. she got you there. “oh, um. maybe? why?”

“don’t act all unbothered now.” your roommate scoots you over so she can pick up a pile and stack them somewhere else. “if she’s also doing something for the event, i see it as an opportunity.”

“why would i willingly do that to myself? im going to look desperate.”

“minji is an idiot, we both know that. why would it matter? i think she’d be flattered to have you there. hasn’t she literally taken you home like… three times? girl, stop overthinking.” yunjin scoffs. “plus, you never look desperate. you’re a little too good at acting like you don’t care. don’t you think you’re driving her away? it’s like, you’re so normal and even distant in real life, i don’t want to say nonchalant because it’ll boost your ego, but unfortunately, that’s what you are.”

“you—“ yunjin raises both brows as you start to speak.

“she probably wants you too. i’ve noticed you guys talking more — don’t think i don’t notice you guys next to each other in between classes, even if it’s with your circle. kazuha asked if you were dating actually.”

“really?”

yunjin giggles, turning away from her closer and back at you. she stands right in front of you, towering over and looking into your eyes scarily.

“you want that girl so bad.”

“i can’t.”

“no, no. listen to me, you’re going to take this halloween thing as an advantage to make a move and also look hot. i don’t know how many more complaints about you being a bomosexual i can take.”

“i hate you.”

“okay then pay full rent.”

“i love you?”

yunjin laughs, picking up another pile of clothes and putting it away.

—

hanni is the one to text you out of nowhere the day after, something about “minji wanted you to eat with us, but heeseung is at the cafe.”

you squint at the message. you had just reached your class, and now you’re being invited over to grab a bite with the girl you want so bad while the guy who wants you so bad is in the same area. there is no way you should be saying yes, you can’t. one: you need to get over minji. she’s out of reach, a mere dream. two: heeseung will be checking you out the whole time and might throw in a compliment or two.

“i’ll be there in five.” you respond, sighing and pinching the bridge of your nose.

…

the café seems a little busy, but that’s not surprising considering it’s around lunchtime and the cafe is not too far from the university. the second you step in, your eyes find minji across the room. she’s mid-laugh with hanni, but the moment she spots you, her smile stretches wider, something bright and giddy in her gaze. it’s that soft, familiar look she gets sometimes—too open, too much—but you’re just as bad, trying not to look like you’re seconds away from smiling like an idiot as you walk up.

“hey, you,” she greets, her voice warm as she sidles closer, her shoulder bumping yours as you both look over the menu.

“hey loser,” you reply, nudging her back a little harder, a playful rhythm forming between you. she pushes back with a smile, and you retaliate, each shove barely more than an excuse to keep lingering in that small space between you two. she laughs, cheeks a little flushed, and you can’t help but feel like coming over was the better decision.

you order first, dismissing minji’s offer to pay for your lunch. she frowns but nonetheless lets you order first. you order a sundried tomato and mozzarella panini, stepping to the side after and glancing at minji, who’s still staring at the menu.

hanni and danielle have already ordered, so you wait near the counter for minji so the two of you can meet up with the rest together.

much to your dismay, heeseung’s voice breaks through your little bubble. he steps closer, leaning against the counter a little too casually. “so, do you always come here, or did you just need an excuse?” his smile is easy, maybe a little too practiced, and his gaze lingers as he looks you up and down, more intense than friendly.

you try not to visibly cringe, offering him a polite smile. “not really—just here with friends today,” you say, keeping your tone light but cool. but he doesn’t quite take the hint, his eyes not quite leaving yours. he definitely thinks there’s something in the air, something other than his cologne that is way too strong for your liking.

“you look cute.”

“oh um, thanks?” you purse you lips into a forced smile, watching him smirk confidently.

“what are your plans after this? got class?”

before you can think of another way to steer the conversation away, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you close, and you look over to find minji at your side. her smile is wide and a little mischievous, and there’s a hint of something defiant in her gaze as she looks right past heeseung, keeping her hand snug on your hip.

“oh, y/n!” she says brightly, voice layered with just enough enthusiasm to sound like a joke but there’s an edge that makes it feel like more. “i remembered something so funny, it’s about yunjin. you know, during practice she got hit in the head.”

she doesn’t even look at heeseung as she tugs you back toward your group, keeping her arm around you a beat longer than necessary. heeseung’s face twists slightly, frustration crossing his features, but minji doesn’t give him a second glance. she launches into a conversation about her classes, her hand slipping away from your waist as she nudges you with her shoulder once more, an unmistakable grin still tugging at her lips.

you two get the chance to converse and danielle and hanni, who are more than happy to have you there. you can feel heeseung and his group eyeing you from a mile away, but that doesn’t matter because minji is in front of you and keeping eye contact the whole time you complain about him.

both your order and minji’s are called out at the same time and for a second, it’s just the two of you again as you both walk up to the counter. her voice and her closeness are enough to erase the last few awkward moments.

“you looked like you were having fun back there,” she murmurs, half-laughing, and you can tell by the gleam in her eyes that she noticed everything.

you laugh, trying to shrug it off. “couldn’t have done it without you,” you say, brushing her shoulder with yours. she looks down, almost bashfully, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks as she smiles—a smile that lingers long after heeseung fades into the background once again and you two rejoin the others.

…

before you make an excuse to leave, although it’s not really an excuse more than a complaint about your professor assigning a grueling reading, you hug everyone. when it’s you and minji, you two hold onto each other for a split second longer than social norms until she pulls away. minji smells like flowers and vanilla – you could drown in her scent.

“are you going to the halloween festival this weekend?”

“oh, yeah. danielle is forcing me to volunteer.”

“that’s funny,” minji chuckles, “because hanni is forcing me too.”

“is that so?”

“uh huh, pumpkin carving moderator or something.” she says, biting the inside of your lip. “we should um, do you wanna walk around after? maybe drop your shift early and i’ll do the same.”

you grin, pushing minji’s shoulder with two fingers playfully.

“couldn’t find any other girl lined up for you to hangout with?”

“what other girls?” minji asks, genuinely confused.

you’re being an idiot. yunjin would so punch you in the face right now, so you come to your senses.

“i– nevermind. i’ll see you around.”

minji waves. “bye.”

…

after you leave, minji settles into her seat beside hanni and danielle, trying to keep her expression neutral. she fails, the smile on her face noticeably smaller and her eyes a little more dim. her friends have known her too long; hanni catches on first, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

“you look like a disappointed puppy,” hanni says, nudging minji with a grin.

“what? no,” minji replies, clearly flustered. “what are you saying bro.”

“you were practically glowing when y/n walked in,” hanni teases, leaning in. “and then suddenly turned into a sad little puddle when she left. you want her soooo bad.”

minji’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, and she tries to laugh it off, glancing at danielle as if for backup. but danielle’s watching her too, a gentle, encouraging look on her face.

“it’s okay, minji,” danielle says softly. “it’s… pretty obvious, you know? you like y/n a lot.”

minji rolls her eyes, looking away. “maybe i do. but it doesn’t matter. y/n’s just… she’s too… normal, you know? she’s always so unbothered, so unfazed by anything. she probably doesn’t even want me. i’m always chasing her.”

danielle shakes her head, a knowing smile touching her lips. “i wouldn’t be so sure, minji. just because y/n’s good at hiding her feelings doesn’t mean she doesn’t have them.” she places a reassuring hand on minji’s arm. “trust me, i think there’s more there than you realize.”

minji lets out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to her hands. “it’s just… sometimes it feels like i’m the only one who’s feeling this way, you know? like i’m the only one getting flustered or waiting for her to look at me like… like i don’t know, she see’s me as a good friend.”

hanni wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “please. y/n’s about as subtle as you when you’re around. i don’t know how you don’t see it.”

danielle laughs softly, nodding. “give it time, minji. y/n might just need a little nudge, and besides…” she pauses, glancing around conspiratorially before leaning in. “if y/n didn’t feel something, you wouldn’t have caught her staring at you like that when she thought no one was watching. plus, the whole nudging your shoulders the whole time. you two are like fucking thirteen year olds in love, it’s kind of gross.”

minji looks up, hope flickering in her eyes as a faint, shy smile tugs at her lips. maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t imagining it.

—

“im literally going to kill myself.” is the first thing yunjin hears when you get home, followed by you dropping your bag and crashing against her on your couch.

“girl what happened?”

“kim fucking minji. she’s insane, she wants me to die, i can’t do this, i resign from being a lesbian can i please resign.”

“well!” yunjin laughs, pulling you in. you lean on her shoulder and cover your face with your hands. “do you want to tell me what happened?”

through your hands, your voice is muffled as you explain, “basically hanni invited me to grab lunch with her and dani and minji. she looked so cute and like, we kept bumping shoulders and she kept smiling when she did it and then i ordered and—”

“you’re rambling–”

“and then i waited for my order while she ordered and heeseung started flirting with me,”

“ew, heeseung?”

“the bane of my existence— yes. i told him i was a lesbian at least three times! oh my god, anyway that doesn’t even matter, i don’t even care because—yunjin. huh yunjin.”

yunjin blinks at you as you stand up, pacing back and forth on the carpet now. she can’t help but laugh at you when you stop in front of her and groan, “jennifer huh.”

“wow, this must be serious.”

“minji fucking grabbed me by the waist like some wattpad story and then kinda shooed heeseung away and yunjin her hands are so nice and they were on my waist and i want her so bad. yeah. i’m gonna just die.”

yunjin pulls you by the wrist so you’re back next to her. she looks at you with a raised brow, waiting for you to recover from your high (if that counts as a high, but maybe you’re just insane).

“she wants you.”

“she’s playing with me.”

“you’re insane. you know hanni asked if me if you like minji earlier, right? talking about how minji looked so devastated after you left.”

“what?”

“oh my god. you know what, i’m done with you. you’re such an idiot that it’s pissing me off.”

you whine, pulling yunjin by her forearm and pulling her back, which earns a scoff. yunjin looks at your little pout and puppy eyes, but doesn’t give in. instead, she pushes you off, leaving you to deal with the events of the day on your own.

before she disappears into her room, she sighs, “you’re gay and useless.”

you sink into the couch a little more. “thanks.”

—

the weekend comes by all too fast. even with your time consuming assignments, it feels like you’ve blinked and now you have to deal with the whole festival.

you’re in a snug white cropped baby tee that shows a decent amount of your abdomen, your hair is styled just a bit, and the makeup on your face is a little more glittery and highlighted than usual. on your back there’s angel wings that complete the look.

(“she’s going to want you so bad, trust me.” yunjin assures as she does your eye makeup.

it’s nothing much, just some darker warm tones with a faint hint of purple and highlighter to make you really look like an angel.

“and…” yunjin adds a bit of highlighter to your cheekbones. she pulls away and gazes at her work, bringing her pointer to her lips and biting on it jokingly. “heyyy gorgeous.”

“shut up.”

“minji’s going to want you so bad.”

“shut. up.”)

yunjin drives the two of you to the festival, she also looks really good. while you’re an angel, she’s a devil, showing off her toned body from soccer so she can pick up some girls that night.

(“you’re such a hoe.” you groan, doing her makeup to make her eyes smoky and lips plump.

she rolls her eyes while putting on her little horns in her hair, checking herself out in the mirror.

“how do i look?”

“like a hoe.” you assure firmly, earning a shove. then, you slide a finger down her collarbone teasingly, winking at her. “a really hot one.”

your roommate chuckles. “save that for minji, y/n.”

“i hate you.”)

the halloween festival is lively, lights flickering under dark skies, and you slip through the crowd in your angel costume with yunjin. you’re not even sure if anyone’s noticed your costume details, but the reactions make it clear you look… well, good. or maybe that’s just yunjin who’s doing the attracting, but a man winks directly at you and you have to force back a look of disgust.

as you make your way to the face-painting stall, you catch sight of minji leaning against a booth, dressed as patrick bateman. she’s really hot, that’s for sure, and it’s nothing new. the loose, slightly unbuttoned dress shirt shows her collarbone, and you can’t help but think about how your lips would feel on them. the loosened tie around her neck makes her look really good; you feel like she’s pulling you in without trying. despite the purposeful tousled look, she looks effortlessly put-together, but the smudge of fake blood on her cheek adds a wild edge (and makes her look even hotter).

her eyes land on you, and her expression shifts just slightly before she pushes off the booth, walking over with a slight smirk.

“wow,” she says, looking you up and down in a way that feels way too intense. “you’re really… pulling off that angel look. you look really good, y/n.”

you giggle, trying to play it cool. “you look pretty good yourself,” you reply, letting your gaze drift over her from the blood on her cheek to the undone buttons of her shirt. “i didn’t know patrick bateman could look this… hot.”

a faint flush creeps onto her cheeks, and she lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah, well, didn’t know ‘angelic’ could look so irresistible,” she teases, but her voice softens as her eyes linger on you.

for a beat, the two of you just stand there, the energy between you charged. you’re painfully aware of the way she’s looking at you—like she’s holding back from saying or doing something, thouh—and you can’t stop yourself from mirroring that, a hint of want in your gaze. she clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“well, i better get to moderating— i don’t want people accidentally slicing themselves instead of a pumpkin.” she murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but not before giving you one last once-over, her eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. she brings her hand to your hair, using a finger to push away some of the strands framing your face. you gulp a bit, then again after she brushes her knuckles against your cheek. “i like this. the makeup.”

i like you. you fight back the confession.

“thanks.” you swallow, nodding. “well, i should,” you start, playing with her tie out of a burst of confidence. you tug on it just a little, catching her by surprise. her breath hitches just barely. “--get going. i’ll see you.” you say, dropping the piece of fabric in your hand.

as you head toward your booth, the thrill from your brief encounter with minji lingers, leaving you more than a little distracted and hoping she feels it too.

…

you’ve painted more faces than you can count on one hand in only an hour, much to your surprise. if you were to do this full time you’d for sure develop arthritis the second week on the job.

after your tenth person — some kid who just wanted two flowers on her cheeks — danielle taps your shoulder. you turn around, humming in response.

“you look beat,” she says.

your shoulders are drooping, your posture is much worse than when you started, and you’re moving your wrist in a every angle to stretch it out and relieve the soreness.

“you think?”

“hanni says she’ll be over in a bit.” danielle assures, patting you on the back and massaging your back lightly. “the stall will close soon so we can all hangout after.”

“thank god. are the other activities closed?”

“not until before midnight – i think.” you sigh in relief, but danielle adds, “could you grab some stuff from the supply closet though? maybe some more white, blue, and red paint? maybe grab yellow and green too.”

she gives you those eyes again, earning a chuckle. “yeah, yeah. okay.”

“great! just go down and turn right, there’s a brown shed — it’s not creepy, i swear. it’s kind of modern actually.”

“something tells me you’re lying.”

“me? lying?”

you roll your eyes and stand up, then you trudge on over down the gravel. you roll your shoulders back and massage your neck a bit, then fix your costume a bit. it’s funny; you’re at a whole festival and this is the only time you’re exposed to the groups of people, bright lights, and excitement all around — at least for longer than a minute.

turning the corner you reach a shed, one that matches danielle’s description.

danielle isn’t a liar, she never lies — well, she never lies about anything serious. it’s quite modern inside, seemingly new due to the fresh paint smell. it’s lined with wooden shelves, each holding different items. the corners are filled with various decorations, ranging from not only halloween decor but also christmas and even valentines day themed trinkets. you laugh at the little cupid poster in the back, but recollect yourself and focus on the “task” at hand.

you have to rummage through the costumes in the corner to find a small box with face paint in it. the light in the shed isn’t on (there isn’t a switch, only some rustic-type light hanging from above in the middle of the building), so you use your flashlight to help you see clearer.

it takes a bit more time to find the yellow bottle of paint, which is in your hand until you drop it from the sound of the door opening so suddenly.

you jump, gasping ever so lightly before turning around to see a very striking patrick bateman.

minji stands in the doorway, still looking as good as before, looking at you with a perplexed expression.

“what are you doing here?” she asks, looking around the area.

“minji,” you close your eyes, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“i’m sorry…” she says, jutting out her bottom lip and suddenly every ounce of fear is drained from your body. “i didn’t know you were in here.”

“danielle sent me to get more paint.”

“that's funny,” minji steps towards you, looking at the two paint bottles on the floor. “hanni sent me to grab trash bags.”

you don’t respond for a second because minji steps under the antique light above her. it illuminates her face in the best way possible, highlighting the smeared on fake blood and her features. you feel your throat tightening as you stare.

minji’s gaze softens, she steps closer.

“do you know where i could find trash—”

“yes, um, yeah, probably in the corner.” you choke out.

she chuckles, you swallow lightly.

you take the stretch of silence to pick up the two bottles that had dropped out your hand and turn the flash on your phone off. you fix your tank top because minji is still within radius, but she’s busy looking for the trash bags, still.

“i’ll see you later?” you say softly. minji’s head whips around, and there’s a slight frown on her face. before she can respond, you hear a click coming from the door, then stare at the handle with furrowed brows. you reach over to twist the knob, but it barely budges. “what the hell?”

“what?”

“i think it’s locked. did you lock it?”

she shakes her head, her brow furrowing as she steps over, nudging you aside to try the handle herself. she pulls, twisting the knob a little harder than you did, but the door still doesn’t move an inch.

“it’s locked.” she mutters, glancing at you with a hint of worry. “i think we’re stuck.”

you both stare at each other for a beat, the realization sinking in, and suddenly the small shed feels much smaller. you look away first, sighing before turning on your phone.

“i’ll call danielle.” you say, voice steady, though there’s a slight tremor as you dial.

“i’ll try hanni.”

you both dial. danielle doesn’t answer and you huff. you wait for minji, her phone against her ear, and the defeated groan is enough to tell you whether hanni answered or not.

“i guess they’re busy.” minji says, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

for a moment, silence stretches between you both again, an awkward tension settling in. minji shifts, making a weird noise as she brushes dust off her shirt. you can’t help but find it cute. then she adjusts her loose collar, making you clear your throat and glancing around for any other possible way out; there’s none.

the only thing you catch is a window, a window that’s far too small and high for anything to happen.

“we’re stuck.” you mutter, looking back at minji.

“do you think dani and hanni will realize we’re missing?”

“they might be busy…” you pinch the bridge of your nose, resting your head against the door. “i have no idea how we’ll get out.”

you’re stuck with minji. kim minji. the hottest and cutest girl you’ve ever laid eyes on. the girl you think of way too much for it to be platonic. the girl who’s in a costume that genuinely has you considering ruining a friendship. the girl who’s leaning back against the shelf behind her right now, crossing her arms, and who’s eyes are flickering over you as she smiles.

“your costume is really something.” her voice is casual, like you’re not stuck in a shed. there’s also a warmth in her tone that isn’t hidden in the slightest. “i like it a lot. you look heavenly.”

if minji’s trying to ease the tension, she’s doing it very well. her stupid dad joke earns a laugh from you, and now you’re leaning against the door with one side of your body as you keep eye contact.

“thank you minji, your looks could really kill.”

she laughs, gums showing and eyes crinkling. you want her so bad.

“that one was worse than mine.”

“no it wasn’t!”

she rolls her eyes. “it was.” she steps closer leaning her head against the same door and staring hard at every single feature of your face. she glances at your lips briefly, then back up. “bet you’ve turned more than a few heads tonight.”

“maybe,” you feel your voice growing quieter. “but i was stuck at the booth.”

“if i were at the booth i think i’d purposely stay just to see you. you look really pretty tonight y/n, i mean it.”

you blush. “maybe.” there’s a grin that you can’t keep off your face. “i’d say the same for you.”

she chuckles again, looking down at her slightly blood-stained dress shirt. “yeah, i think i took the pumpkin carving part a bit too seriously. got more guts on me than on the pumpkins.” she holds up her hands, still faintly stained with an orange hue, and shakes her head. “i’ll probably smell like pumpkins for a week.”

minji watches you turn to the side, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle.

turning back, you’re mid-laugh when your eyes catch on a smudge of blood across minji’s cheek, just barely out of place. your hand moves without thinking, reaching up to brush it away with your thumb. the laughter fades, the shed shrinking around you, and everything slows, the only movement her skin warming under your touch.

minji’s gaze locks onto yours, intense and unblinking, and there’s something behind it that makes your heart skip. her eyes are barely liddied now, she swallows, biting down on the inside of her lip, before a slow, uncertain smile begins to take over her face.

“you look so good right now,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost rough. her hand reaches up, covering yours, holding it there against her cheek, like she’s trying to commit the moment to memory, almost like it’ll end anytime – soon, or now.

you’re close enough to feel her breath, the slight catch in it. “good enough for you?” you ask softly, a smile playing at your lips, your words teasing, but your heart racing.

she chuckles, but it’s quiet, and her gaze doesn’t waver. “better than good,” she whispers, her hand falling from yours, trailing down to your waist, her fingers grazing the bare skin there, gentle, hesitant, like she’s testing the feel of you, seeing if you’ll pull away, but you don’t. minji smirks. “are you… seeing anyone?”

the question hangs between you, heavy and thrilling. you shake your head, your pulse pounding beneath her touch. “no one at all.”

she exhales, her voice barely above a whisper. “good.” her fingers press into your waist just a little more, her gaze flickering down to your lips, and you watch, almost dizzy, as she wets her own, her tongue darting out, just barely, the movement so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t so close.

your hand moves from her cheek, trailing slowly down to the open collar of her shirt, brushing along her collarbone. her breath hitches, and her head tilts slightly, just enough for your fingers to press against her skin, her eyes closing for the briefest moment before she meets your gaze again. you don’t realize how close you’ve drawn until you feel her breath warm against your lips.

she glances at your lips for what seems the tenth time. you two are clearly vibrating on the same wave length, it’s evident.

then, with the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, minji closes the space between you, her mouth soft, warm, pressing into yours, a little unsure, like she’s savoring every second of it. her hand at your waist tightens, pulling you closer, her fingertips grazing the curve of your hip as she leans in, her other hand moving to cradle the side of your face, her thumb grazing your cheek. the world around you slips away, and all that’s left is her—the warmth of her lips, the feeling of her touch, and the overwhelming sense that every daydream you had is getting outdone by this moment. this real moment.

it’s so real when she pulls away with rosy cheeks. she looks at you nervously, as if she didn’t just take the oxygen from your lungs.

“was that alright?” she asks, sounding unsure. it’s cute, she’s cute, god she’s so cute.

“perfect.” you mumble.

your hand moves to where her tie is, it’s loose around her collar, making it easier for you to tug her right back into you. she gasps from surprise and groans into your lips, kissing you hard.

her fingers press into your skin and you shiver, parting your lips ever so slightly to sigh softly. minji smirks against your skin, trailing to your jawline with light pecks as you release your grip on her tie and snake your hand around her neck.

“i’ve–” a kiss to the side of your throat, “wanted to—” a kiss lower, “do this for—” and a soft kiss to the base of your neck, “so long.”

your breath shakes after she finishes the sentence, she kisses your neck once more.

minji parts, moving you over so you’re is against some random, heavy box on the side of the shed and now both arms are around your neck. you’re a few more kisses in, mixed with content sighs and groans and handfuls of hair before you two almost bite each other’s lips off from the sound of the door opening.

you barely have time to pull away, minji’s lips are still a breath from yours, her hand lingering at your waist. you both turn to see danielle, hanni, and yunjin standing in the doorway, eyes wide. you and minji spring apart, the movement so fast that it would be funny if you were witnessing the situation.

danielle’s shock morphs into a grin as she exchanges a look with hanni, and yunjin just has a hand over her mouth.

hanni’s mouth drops open before breaking into a smirk, her eyes flickering with pure satisfaction.

“oh my god.” hanni breathes, relief in her voice. “it actually worked.”

before you or minji can respond, utterly confused considering they all look relieved rather than disgusted, yunjin takes one look at you and minji and bursts out laughing,

“i knew it! i knew you two would finally do something if we left you alone long enough.”

minji blinks, looking as if she’s still processing. you glance between them, your cheeks warm. “what?” you say exasperatedly, “what do you mean ‘finally’? what— what is all this?”

The three of them exchange looks before danielle nudges yunjin forward, her grin growing. “so uh, we might’ve had a little something to do with the door locking. maybe on purpose. maybe. perchance.”

“definitely on purpose.” hanni adds, crossing her arms. “we were all tired of watching you guys dance around your feelings. you two needed a push.”

minji stares at them with a mix of embarrassment and dawning realizaiton. then she glances at you, her face flushing before turning back to the trio.

“you all planned this?”

hanni nods, looking like she’s enjoying this way too much. “you guys are hopeless. you know? everyone could see that you two wanted each other except you two. who the hell nudges their friends like that? you both are like middle schoolers with their first crush.”

you exchange yet another glance with minji, who’s biting her lip. there’s a surprise mirroring on her face, and honestly it’s really cute. adorably cute.

despite all the embarrassment, you can’t help but laugh, a little breathless.

“so… this was all a setup?” minji says, looking at them with a half-laugh, half-disbelieving shake of her head.

danielle shrugs, stepping aside to give you both room to leave the shed. “well, it worked, didn’t it?”

yunjin’s grin is teasing as she waves you both out, her eyes bright with excitement. “yeah, finally,” she echoes, a satisfied smirk on her face. you glance at minji, who’s still looking at you, and a shy, almost playful smile tugs at her lips.

and as you both step out of the shed, shoulder to shoulder, the knowing smiles of your friends after they glance behind, there’s a giddiness accompanying the space between you and minji.

they all explain something about your booths being over because you two were too busy making out — you barely listen — and minji nudges your shoulder again when they’re far enough to not hear her.

you turn, tilting your head a bit before she leans down a bit to mumble, “you know, i heard that if you don’t kiss me again, for at least an hour, bloody mary might show up in your room tonight.”

a laugh escapes your lips and you push minji, who’s grinning at you like an idiot. you roll your eyes and reach out to hold her hand, she squeezes yours excitedly.

“that’s a new one. are you sure it’s true?”

minji quickly cups your cheek and steals a kiss, parting away to make sure your friends don’t turn around and tease you two relentlessly.

“that one just got rid of all the bad energy from before.”

“what bad energy?”

“the one that’s building up every second you don’t kiss me. it also builds up if you don’t go out with me for lunch tomorrow. or ever.”

you roll your eyes once more, then glance at your friends before kissing minji’s cheek.

“i can’t risk any of that, can i?”

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans minji #kim minji #minji #minji x reader #kim minji x reader

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moonstruckme · 17 days ago

Note

hello my sweet gorgeous mae!!

how we feeling abt a fic where reader has some difficulty regulating her emotions when she’s upset and just some casual poly!wolfstar dominance. girl honestly just needs a hug and someone to validate her feelings tbh

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! I did give her a reason for her upset which in retrospect I probably should have just left vague but I hope it doesn't take you out of it and if anyone knows anything that makes them think this relates to me in any way no it literally doesn't why would you think that

cw: somewhat subtle/implicit d/s dynamics (really just a couple joking mentions of "rules" or "bans")

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re grateful to come home to an empty apartment. No sooner does the door shut behind you than the sob that’s been building in your chest jostles its way out. You hug your bag to your front and go to the floor, crying.

You don’t hold back. You let tears flow down your cheeks and take short, jagged breaths to fuel even more, curling your knees towards your chest and pushing your fingertips into your forehead.

Your heartbeat is loud enough in your ears that it takes you a second to register the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but you notice when they pick up their pace as they draw closer. Not, evidently, so empty an apartment after all.

“Dovey.” Remus sounds gutted. You open your eyes, and he looks it, too. Sirius comes up behind him, both of their forms blurring as they crouch in front of you. “What happened?”

You shake your head. “I—I didn’t—” You’re crying like a child, all choked sobs and snivelly voice. “I didn’t—”

“Shh, that’s okay.” Sirius takes your face in his hands. His hold is firm but his thumbs gentle as they brush over your cheeks. “Just nod yes or no for me, my love. Are you hurt?”

You shake your head.

Some of the worry eases from his features, but his brows pinch sympathetically. “Just sad?”

You open your mouth to answer him, and a hiccup of sobs spills out.

Sirius makes a pained sound and pulls you to him. Remus murmurs, “Oh, sweetheart.”

You try to speak again into the material of Sirius’ shirt, to apologize for coming home like this, but both boys shush you, Sirius rubbing your back while Remus gives your arm a squeeze and leans over to kiss your head.

Remus takes your shoes off for you, and Sirius helps him ease your bag off your shoulder without ever really loosening his hold on you. They move you to the couch. Your boyfriends work in quiet harmony, one always comforting you while the other takes measures to make you more practically comfortable.

“Dove, listen to me,” Remus says after a while. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Take a deep breath.”

You try, inhaling only for it to come jerking back out of you on another sob. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Sirius rubs your back. “Keep trying, baby.”

They talk you through deep breaths for a while, until you start to calm and it’s only Sirius’ voice in your ear, low and reassuring while Remus goes to get something from the kitchen.

He passes you a cold glass of water when he gets back, while Sirius is scraping damp pieces of hair back from your face. Presses it into your hands.

You sniffle. “I’m not really thirsty.”

“You’re going to be dehydrated after all that. You don’t have to drink it all at once,” he says, and the message is clear: but you do have to drink it. “Take your time if you need to.”

You take a shaky breath, bringing the glass to your lips.

“There you go.” Sirius kisses your cheek. You love and hate when they gang up on you like this. You’re between them on the couch, quite literally the center of attention. It’s both comforting and overwhelming. “Now, are you ready to say what’s wound you up so badly?”

You swallow, nodding. “Sorry,” you say, and you still sound congested, “I didn’t think anyone was home.”

Sirius tsks. “You know the s word is banned.” He somehow manages to strike a tone that’s both loving and stern. “You don’t get to start bending the rules because you’ve had a bad day.”

“You shouldn’t feel like you can’t cry when we’re here, either, sweetheart,” Remus adds.

“Probably wouldn’t have made such a spectacle of it, though.” You attempt a feeble smile. Neither boy looks amused. “It was only that I got my rejection from the Lunds job.”

“Oh.” Remus' face creases with sympathy. He rubs your thigh. “You really wanted that one, yeah?”

You shrug, but tears fill your eyes again against your will, dribbling down your cheeks. “I thought I had a good feeling about that one,” you whisper. Sirius starts stroking between your shoulder blades again. “It was stupid.”

“I’m beginning to think we should ban every s word,” Sirius mutters. There’s no bite to it, though, and when you crack a smile he kisses underneath your ear. “It wasn’t stupid, baby. You were excited about it.”

Remus’ voice is a low hum. “It’s not just about this one job, though, is it?”

You look at him, tasting salt in the seam of your lips.

“You’ve been anxious about all this for a long while,” he says, thumb moving over your knee in a slow, soothing back-and-forth. “I think you put all your stock into this one, and now it’s caught up to you, but this was never the only one that mattered. You can still find a job somewhere else.”

“I just…” You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I thought I was so perfect for this one. If they didn’t want me” —your voice wavers— “how can I expect to ever get one?”

“Angel, I love you, and you know I think you’re a genius ahead of your time,” says Sirius, “but that is some very shoddy reasoning. You’ve no idea who else applied. They might’ve had fucking superman in their stack of applications, and you could’ve been their second choice. That’s not going to happen every time.”

“But it is still,” Remus tells you, taking your hand in his, “very hard to feel like you weren’t good enough. I’m sure all you’ve been putting in without getting results weighs on you, yeah?”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from bursting into tears again. Somehow Remus always knows how to get to the heart of the issue.

“Yeah,” you say softly.

“Oh, I know, sweet girl.” He pulls you into his side, kissing your head. “You’ve worked so hard. But it’ll all pay off in the end, alright? What’s say we have a break for tonight. No more applications, just relaxing.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees for you. “After a good cry like that, I think a film and some cuddles are in order.”

“These aren’t already cuddles?” you joke wetly.

He makes an offended squawking noise. “Not proper ones. Get your cozies on and let Rem make us a hot cocoa, babydoll, and then we’ll remind you what real cuddles are like.”

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peachysunrize · 2 months ago

Text

[TANGERINE DREAMS]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! Fluff, angst, tension! English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.4k+

A/n: so so sorry for the delay… unfortunately I’m gonna be awfully busy this week so the next chapter might be also delayed😭 buttttttt hopefully this chapter will make up for it! Reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

Taglist: if you wanna be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!

-> series masterlist <-

-> other works <-

Chapter 4: push & pull

“I’m hungry!”

“Shh!” You put your finger on Helaena’s lips to keep her quiet, “you ate all of our snacks! How are you still hungry?”

“I don’t knowwww,” she whines, dropping her head back on your lap as you resume the movie, “I need sweets!”

“It’s three in the morning, I doubt you want to wake up the entire house just to find a chocolate bar,” you thread your fingers through her soft and freshly showered silver hair.

“Babe,” she turns around, reaching for the control to pause the movie before she looks up at you, “why do you think we live in a mansion in the first place?”

“Because you have billions of money and have no idea what to do with it?” You ask, chuckling and rolling your eyes affectionately when she slaps your arm, “as if there is another reason behind it.”

“Of course there is!” She sits up, plopping a pillow next to yours as she sits shoulder to shoulder with you, “Aemond is an awfully light sleeper, so is Mum! Aegon would even sleep through… I don’t know, imagine Michael Jackson screaming in a mic and putting the amplifier next to his ear. Daeron is the best, heavy sleeper but his survival instinct would save him from anything. Me—“

“You don’t sleep at all,” she gawks at you before laughing, “What? You think I don’t know my best friend like the back of my hand? Or why we’re watching The Dance of Dragons trilogy at this god-awful hour? I’m offended!”

She pushes you playfully, “That’s not what I meant! You’re right, I don’t sleep much, but that’s not the point. I’m saying living in a mansion is quite cool because we put Mum and Aemond at the back of the building and chose our rooms afterward. So if you sneak into the kitchen…”

“I’m not gonna sneak there and shuffle around your cabinets like a fucking thief, Hel!”

“It’s literally your home too! You’ve been here a thousand times, no one would bat an eye if they catch you going through Aegon’s snacks!” She says, pouting a bit as she gives you her best puppy eyes, “One bag of his gummy bears, just one!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” you glare at her, scoffing immediately when she gives you her most precious smile.

“Yes, please?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you hiss, “Besides, I have no clue which cabinet I should search for.”

“The one next to the stove—“

“Helaena!”

“Please please please, I will take a walk with you in the morning—“

“I’m not dumb, why should going on a walk with you be anywhere near interesting?” You ask, crossing your arms on your chest as you give her a pointing look.

“Because… because I can take you shopping! You know, Aegon will probably give a theme for his party so what better reason than to go on a girl’s date and buy some clothes?!”

“No, and no—“

“One bag, that’s all I’m asking!”

“Fine!” She squeals in joy, “but you will make it up to me, you giant twenty-seven-year-old kid. And shopping is the least you can do.”

“Okay, babe, whatever you want! I can even set you up with one of Aegon’s friends—“

“I'll take the walk, please! Keep those boys away from me,” You stand up from the bed, shaking your head before you slowly turn the doorknob, and before you step out, you look at her and shake your head when you see her lying on the bed with her hands under her chin.

You look at the empty hallway, checking to see if anyone is around or not before walking downstairs, tiptoeing to make sure you wake up no one. Gripping the stair bars, you relax a bit when the wooden stairs don’t make a loud cracking sound.

The path to the kitchen is quiet and empty, but with the numerous vases and other home decor Alicent has put around the house, it’s hard to move around without breaking something or making a loud noise. You have been here many times, but the paintings and various pieces they have will always surprise you; they are so beautiful, and you expect nothing less from the Targaryens.

You finally reach the kitchen, slowly making your way towards the stove to find the cabinet or a drawer — because only those are next to the stove — Helaena told you about. Pulling the first drawer out, you find nothing but forks and spoons, nothing near a good snack, unfortunately. The next one contains spices and herbs, arranged neatly in jars with labels.

“What are you doing here?”

“Fucking hell!” You scream and turn around, hand on your chest as you look at Aemond who is equally surprised to see you here at such an hour, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“Shh…” he approaches you slowly, reaching to take your hand in his to calm you down, “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me, or even saw me.”

“How could I see you? My back was to you!” You exhale shakily, letting him take your hands in his larger ones, slowly caressing your skin, “what are you doing here? Creeping on me like that?”

“I was in the kitchen when you walked in,” he says, his lips twisting in a small smirk as he sees your lips part in shock.

“How did I not see you?” You gawk at him, laughing breathlessly, “You’re a giraffe, tall as fuck and your hair shines like a flashlight! Were you hiding?”

“No, no,” he steps closer, chuckling lowly to not make so much sound, your hands still in his, “I was searching for a cutting board.”

“What?” You smile a bit, looking up at him as he towers over you, “I’m really curious now.”

“No, you’re just nosy,” he smirks when he sees you open your mouth to disagree, but you catch on his teasing tone quickly and bat his hands away.

“Asshole.”

“I’m kidding,” with a kiss on the back of your hand, he moves past you to put the cutting board on the kitchen island, “I missed dinner and couldn’t sleep either so…”

“You wanna cook dinner? Now?” you ask him, rounding the island to stand close to him, “You are crazy!”

“I’m hungry,” he groans, shaking his head as he moves to another cabinet and pulls out a pot to fill it with water.

“What is up with you Targaryens being hungry at such an hour?” You lean on the counter, watching him put the full pot on the stove, taking your time to look at him from head to toe.

He is wearing a loose black T-shirt, with gray sweatpants that stay low on his hip bones. His silver hair is clipped and his glasses are on the bridge of his nose — he looks so cozy and welcoming, and he most certainly glides across the room so effortlessly, pulling out different ingredients to chop.

“What did Hel want anyway?” He asks, pulling out an onion and placing it on the cutting board next to you, leaning just like you with his hips on the counter.

“How did you know she wanted something?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I doubt you’d come and snoop around for Aegon.”

“Why not?” You raise an eyebrow at him, taking a step closer to him, “Maybe I was in his room, what then—“

“No,” he whispers, putting the knife down before he puts one hand on each side of your hips, the heel of his palm on the dip between where your thighs meet your hips and his fingers against the kitchen island — not gripping you fully, but enough to make you tremble slightly, especially with the way he looks at you, so raw and playful, “you wouldn’t allow him to make a single flirty comment, and you want me to believe that you just left his room?”

“What if I have changed my mind?” You look up at him through your lashes, voice barely above whispering, “Maybe I have fallen for his Targaryen charm?”

“The only Targaryen charm you’ll fall for is—”

“Babeee!” suddenly Helaena’s hushed whisper echoes in the kitchen

Your eyes widen and in the blink of an eye, you push Aemond away and move to the cabinet Helaena told you about earlier, trying to make yourself look busy while Aemond puts his palms on top of the island, leaning down a bit as he sighs, his face forming into a deep scowl as he watches his sister tiptoe into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey, Aemy,” she waves at him, finally finding you crouched down next to the cabinet, “What’s taking you so long?”

“I couldn’t find the cabinet—” “It’s the one you are sitting in front of,” she says, smiling as she looks at her brother reaching for the knife, “and what are you doing here?”

“I was hungry,” he mutters, slicing the onion in half, “What do you want?”

“My promised gummy bears and a glass of water,” she shrugs and walks to grab her glass and you take the chance to stand up with her snack, standing side by side with Aemond, both of you following Helaena’s movements as she hums happily and fills her glass with water.

You glance at Aemond, catching him already looking at you with an unreadable expression that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. Averting your eyes quickly, you watch Hel making her way to you before she gives you a quick hug.

“I’m going to bed, we will finish them another day.” “Sure, love,” you smile, “I’ll go to bed in a few minutes too, goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” Aemond says quietly, moving towards the boiling water on the stove before he drops uncooked spaghetti in it and walks back to the cutting board.

“What are you cooking?”

“Penne alla vodka,” he replies, smirking when you roll your eyes at him.

“Of course, typical classy Aemond,” you say, groaning a bit because of how tired you are, “your sister is a menace for keeping me up so long. I can’t even stand on my feet!”

“Then you don’t have to stand,” he says casually, wiping his hands with the cloth hanging from the waistband of his sweats. He moves closer to you, backing you up against the kitchen island with a teasing look in his good eye, his hands coming up to grip your waist and before you know it, he picks you up effortlessly and sits you on the island, his fingers digging into your flesh.

You swallow, bracing yourself by your hands on his chest as you look at Aemond, finding him standing closer to you between your legs, his eye focusing solely on your face — how your lips part with a quiet gasp falling from them, how your pupils are blown with something he can’t read quite well.

You are a vision to behold.

He leans closer, his face mere inches away from yours, his hot breath fanning against your face. You inhale sharply when he cranes his neck and his nose bumps into yours, his hooded eye hazy as he stares at you.

His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel his fingers caressing your back and the side of your tummy slowly, almost shyly, but with his lips only one breath, you know there is no shyness left within him, only determination.

As soon as he wants to lean down and capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss, the pasta in the oven is long overcooked and the boiling water pours out, making a loud hissing sound that makes Aemond break apart from you.

“Shit,” he groans, the warmth of his hand gone from your waist as he jogs to the stove and lifts the pot to empty the remaining water of the pasta, cursing himself in his head with how careless he acted — not only he nearly ruined your friendship but also his late dinner will taste like an uncooked dough.

“I-I think I should go to bed,” you stutter, jumping down from the island, smiling awkwardly at him, “goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” he watches you leave in a hurry, running a hand down his face — mindful of his glasses — he sighs loudly, “What the fuck was I thinking?”

If only he knew the answer to this.

“Okay kids, listen up!” Aegon claps his hands, stepping on top of the huge table in the guest wing’s living room, trying his best to give the four of you — six if you count Criston and Alicent — a very very pointed, dramatic and serious look, “tonight, we will drink!”

He points at Daeron and Aemond who are each holding two bottles of whatever drinks, or poison to put it better, Aegon has chosen to feed you tonight.

“Tonight, we will dance!” He points at Helaena who rolls her eyes and presses play on her phone so the music blasts through the amplifiers around the house but quickly pauses it so Aegon can talk.

“Annnnndddd!” He jumps down, striding towards you with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He grabs you by your waist, twirls you around suddenly, and dips you down on his arm before he leans down, “We will have fun!” He leans to kiss you, but you put your palm on his face and push him away roughly, laughing out loud with him when you make a gagging sound.

“Get away from me you moron!”

“I’m sure my kisses would make you feel much better—”

“I rather die than have your tongue down my throat,” you stand behind Aemond, and when Aegon sees how hard his brother is glaring at him, he whistles and wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you — Aemond blushes horribly and you only give a tight-lipped awkward smile.

“Alright!” Alicent says, walking towards the table Aegon was standing up to fix the tablecloth, “I know you’ll take care of everything, but—” she looks at Aegon, “no drugs,” she then turns to Daeron and Helaena, “No sneaking out of the house,” then she looks at Aemond, “no goddamn books!” “I don’t even read that much,” Aemond sighs, putting the vanilla vodka bottles on the table before he crosses his arms, “I haven’t had the time to read even one book.” “I don’t care, Aemond. No books, no workshop, no merging with the darkness and sulking in a corner of this house. Okay?”

“Yes, Mum, I get it,” he agrees, turning around to glance at you, only for you to give him an encouraging smile.

“Now that we’re all settled,” Aegon reaches and throws his arm around Alicent’s shoulder, “take out dinner, obviously—”

“What do you mean ‘take out’? I didn’t hire a chef for you to say you’ll get our guests nasty food,” Alicent frees herself from Aegon, giving him one last look before she moves with Cole on toe towards the exit, “Also, the catering will be here soon, if you wanna help, you’ll need to wait a bit for them.” “Did you hear that?” Aegon asks, eyes wide and a very large grin finds its way on his face.

“Billionaires have such a hard life, I pity you guys,” You say sarcastically, “what’s up with these faces? You don’t like having a private chef?”

“Babe,” Helaena comes and grabs your hand, “This means Mum really wants us to party! She only gets this generous when she wants us to have fun.” “A private chef is a pretty great thing,” Aemond shrugs, grabbing yet another two bottles of vanilla vodka with a grimace on his face and putting them down next to the other two.

“No shit Sherlock! Of course, it’s amazing! Who wouldn’t want a fresh plate of ribs in the middle of a partially illegal party?” he chuckles at you, nodding at the catering that finally arrived, putting his warm palm on your waist.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I am always in charge of dinner because these three,” he points at his siblings, “get absolutely hammered and won’t be able to order takeout.”

“I knew Helaena would get drunk if she set her mind to it but Daeron?” you ask leaning closer to his side, looking up at him, and occasionally glancing at the other three siblings who are helping the catering staff with the food and drinks.

“He is a mixed… combination of all of us,” he chuckles, his nails digging into your waist as he scratches your skin under your shirt gently, lit the fire of the memory of a few hours ago you shared, “He doesn’t drink much but when he does… well, rest assured he gets as bad and loud as Aegon.”

“I’ve been here countless times but never seen him acting like an idiot,” you laugh, walking to grab the closest tray to help with the setting. Aemond does the same and follows you around the room quietly, making small talk with you until everything is set and ready for the party.

You and him walk forward, and for the first time he doesn’t guide you with his hand on your back, and you see how he is pondering hard about something.

“He wanted to really kiss you,” he whispers for only you to hear. You stop and a soft yet confused expression overtakes your face as you look at him, waiting for him to continue.

“What?” “Aegon,” he says, “he likes you, maybe he would have gotten away with it if you let him kiss you.”

“Aemond, don’t be ridiculous,” you grab his wrist gently, forcing him to stop, “I said it once, I’ll say it again; I don’t like Aegon romantically, and I would rather die than let him get close to my face.”

He doesn’t look too convinced, so with one glance at your back to see where your best friend and the rest of her siblings are, you hold his other hand in yours as well, “Besides, I would rather kiss another Targ—” “Go find some clothes, kids! It’s a white party!” Aegon announces, and Helaena suddenly appears out of nowhere and wraps her arms around you, making you let go of Aemond’s hands immediately.

“Come on, babe! Let’s go get ready!” you don’t have time to finish your sentence so with one last look at Aemond, you leave with Hel towards your rooms to get ready.

Aemond pulls shirt after shirt out of his closet, all of them are either black or dark green and those who are colorful are blue. Nothing. He can’t find anything to wear and it has started to annoy him.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his hair unruly and in need of a good brush but that can wait. His outfit on the other hand can’t, and the fact that Aegon’s guests will arrive in a few minutes is driving him crazy.

With a loud annoyed groan, he stands up and moves toward his hung clothes, searching through them, but again, all he can find is a pair of white sneakers that thankfully will go with any outfit he chooses.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to think of any Shirts or pants he can find, but he is interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Hey,” you open the door a bit, smiling at him before slipping inside, but before you can stop yourself, your eyes roam over his topless figure leaning over the closet with his sweat hanging low on his hips.

Aemond is even worse than you; seeing you in a white sundress with sheer sleeves that hung low on your shoulders and the dress reaching your mid-thighs… he is speechless. His eye roams over your figure slowly, taking in the sight of you.

He can see how you get shy all of a sudden, caressing your arm as he literally looks you up and down.

“How do I look?” you ask, twirling to show the back of the dress as well.

“Wow,” breathtaking, gorgeous, mindblowing, earth-shattering, “Beautiful,” you make his heart nearly leap out of his chest, his cheeks turning pink as he gazes at you like a teen boy experiencing his first high school crush.

“Thank you!” you smile, rocking on your feet, “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, “I couldn’t find anything.”

“Bullshit!”

“Excuse me?” he asks hesitantly, watching you curiously as you make your way to his wardrobe, standing in front of him to search within his clothes yourself.

“You wore those white shorts to the winery, hmmm, let me see—” You pull out a white shirt with baggy pants, both enough to make him much taller than he is, but he has to agree that the simplicity might actually look great, “here you go! But let me brush your hair first!”

You sit him down on the bed, crawling behind him with a brush and a hair tie you found on his vanity desk before you start slowly combing through his soft hair, detangling and making it look more presentable.

He relaxes under your touch and lets you pull the front of his hair back and tie it so his face is shown more. He sighs and thanks you when you’re done, and to his surprise, you grab the shirt from him, forcing him to stand up to help him put it on, leaving the first few buttons undone before you do the rest slowly.

“Were you jealous?” You ask, letting your fingers brush over his pale chest, “When you saw Aegon wanted to kiss me?”

He swallows but as soon as you are done he pulls away and holds the pants up, signaling for you to leave so he can change, and you do but wait for him outside until he is ready.

“Maybe,” he says as you loop your arm through his, both of you walking toward the guest wing. You can already hear the blasting hip hop song Aegon is playing, the sounds of screaming and singing already filling the entire mansion.

“Really?” You ask quietly, letting go of his hand as soon as you reach the door, finding a few of Aegon’s friends around.

“I don’t know, I said maybe,” he moves away from you with one last smirk and enters the party. The smell of alcohol, cigarette, and smoke fills his lungs, and soon spots Daeron and Aegon mixing cocktails and handing them to the guests. Helaena is busy talking to an old friend of his, Cregan Stark, and she is all blushy and giggly while she sips on her drink — he makes a mental note to check up on her regularly.

“Here is our boyyyy!” One of Aegon’s friends screams and throws his arm around Aemond’s shoulders, shaking him as everyone erupts in joy and laughter, a shot of whiskey is thrusted into his hands and everyone is suddenly encouraging him to drown the drink in one go.

“Come on, Aemy! Don’t be a fucking pussy!” Aegon screams over the music, and with one final sigh, he brings the glass to his lips and empties the drink down his throat, making everyone around him scream and clap him on the back before they start shouting for another shot, which Daeron pours for him and as the first one, he drowns it again.

“That’s my fucking brother!” Aegon suddenly jumps onto an empty table, completely topless with two bottles of vodka in his hands as he screams and cheers for Aemond while holding the bottles up.

“He is so fucking insane!” Daeron shakes his head when Aegon starts rolling his hips to the music, his silver hair covered in sweat and possibly alcohol as he flexes his abs and chest for the girls.

“He is disgusting,” Aemond sighs, watching amusedly as Aegon jumps down and wraps his arms around two girls, moving to dance with them while their hands wander all over his body.

Aemond looks around and finds you and Helaena on the dance floor, clearly drunk out of your mind with how you are laughing and moving around. He drowns the rest of his drink before he sneaks out of the party, moving outside toward his workshop to clear his head, but before that, he goes back to the main building and grabs a bottle of water to sober up.

He finds Vhagar already waiting for him at the entrance, wiggling her tail when she notices Aemond. He crouches down to pet her softly, scratching behind her ears and kissing her furs before he stands up and moves to the backyard, his old lady following him quickly.

On their way to the workshop, they find Aegon and the two girls sneaking upstairs, making out with one while the other caresses his skin. Aemond rolls his eye in disgust as he moves past them, finding a pair of heels on the ground as she enters the small wood attached to their yard after where the Weirwood tree is.

He walks further inside the woods, following the path he once walked with you which leads to his workshop, Vhagar happily accompanies him there, even jogging and running past him numerous times to show her enthusiasm — she just loves being around him.

He notices a shadow in the workshop, moving around clumsily as it touches and picks different things up. He thinks it might be one of Aegon’s dumbass friends, wandering around their house drunk and exhausted. But how did someone, anyone find the key to unlock the door?

He opens the door, catching you of all the people snooping around his stuff, smiling when you find a pretty seven-pointed star keychain with Alicent’s name carved under it — he remembers when he made that. He was only seventeen, and he had moved past that amateur phase and got a grip on the woodwork and different types of it. What better way to celebrate his Mum’s birthday than gifting her something he made from scratch?

“Hey you,” he says slowly, not wanting to frighten you like he did this morning, “And what are you exactly doing here?”

“Look who’s here,” you turn around opening your arms, burping as you talk, showing how good Aegon’s cocktail must have been to get you this giddy, “sorry, Little nerd! I saw this really really pretty place and couldn’t help myself! Isn’t it strange that no one uses here? Urgh, what I would do to stay here.”

“Alright, darling, don’t pout,” he slowly reaches to grab your arm so you don’t trip over anything and fall down, “How did you get in here?”

“Did you just—” you gasp, letting him pull you to his side, “did you just call me darling?”

“Yes, I did,” he nods, keeping you secure on your feet before he offers you the water bottle, urging you to drink from it, “have this, clearly you need it more than I do.”

“What a gentleman! Thank you,” you say, taking a large sip after he helps you open the bottle, the cold water makes you feel slightly better so you drink the rest too, not sobering up completely but enough to remember where you are and who you are with and more importantly remember what you are doing.

“So, how did you get in here?” Aemond asks again, taking the empty bottle from you before tossing it for Vhagar, who happily claws at the plastic, jumping on it before she takes it outside to bury it somewhere — which Aemond would need to find later.

“Found a spare key under that vase,” you pointed at the vase outside his door on the floor, “You are not as slick as you think, Aemond, calling me darling and everything.”

“Do you want me to stop calling you that?” he asks playfully, watching you bite your lips in response, shaking your head slightly, “then I guess I won’t.”

You look around the workshop and find a wooden pallet with half a portrait carved on it. The lines are oddly familiar, a woman perhaps because of the details put in the jaw, and the hair looks so delicate and soft.

“Wow, Aemond…” You free yourself from his arms and move to take a closer look at the half-done wooden portrait, “Did you make this?”

“Yes…” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck in shame or perhaps anxiousness, because what if you recognize who the person is? All of his efforts will be in vain. What will you think of him? A boy with nothing better than observing women? A pervert?

“This is fascinating!” you keep looking at the wooden pallet but something catches your eye; a printed black and white picture of the person’s portrait, but before you can reach for it, Aemond grabs your forearm and pulls you away roughly.

You gasp as he pulls you between him and the desk the portrait and all of his stuff are on. His breathing is frantic, and his long fingers hold your forearm tight enough not to hurt you.

You look up at him, lips parted, a scene too familiar — this morning, so close to each other, one mingling breath away yet too far — but there is a fire burning within him, a newfound determination that makes his heart beat faster and his hands shake.

He is not a weak mean, quite the contrary, but when he looks down at you, catching how your gaze falls on his lips… he is no better than any other man.

He leans down a little, the sounds of the outside world fading away as he moves his face closer, and he notices how you slowly twist your arm out of his grasp, only to move them toward his chest, and he takes the sign and reaches to hold you by your waist, his nose bumping into yours as the distance between you decreases

You smell so sweet, like strawberry on a whipped cream once Aegon fed him when he was feeling down. It’s sweet but not too much to have him run away, to shy away from such a delicious taste. Will your lips taste the same if he musters the courage to just move down a bit and finds it by himself?

“Aemond…” One whisper of his name is all it takes for his restraint to shatter into a million pieces, and finally, finally, he leans down enough to capture your lips in a quick kiss. Both of you waiting for waited breath to see who will lean in, give in, and take what they want

Both, you both lean in, meeting each other halfway as your lips meet in a chaste messy kiss.

You taste so sweet just as he thought, but not just a strawberry tooth rooting sweet, no. you taste like a fresh cold morning breeze on a summer day, you feel like a cold shower after an exhausting day — so refreshing, so… so much like home. As if he has only found the solace he has been seeking with Alys for so long but something has always been amiss, but with you… oh, one kiss is enough for him to know how wrong he was.

You tangle your fingers through his hair, and he takes the chance to sit you on the desk, but by doing so, he knocks a little vase on the ground, and you freeze.

You pull away from the kiss, muttering his name but he doesn’t let you say anything before he seals his lips to yours in an endearing kiss. But you push him away by putting your hands on his chest, making enough room for you to talk.

“Aemond, we can’t—” “What do you mean we can’t?” He asks, panicking a little but you manage to ease his mind with a quick kiss, “What do you mean, darling?” He asks again, voice barely above whispering.

“I don’t want to be your rebound…” you pull him down enough so his forehead rests on yours, “I don’t want to be the person who you fuck just after you’ve been dumped.”

“You’re… you’re not that, you will never be that! Alys—“

“Alys… you’re still not over her, Little nerd,” you caress his cheek lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss on the apple of his cheek before you push him away and put a great distance between the two of you, and with teasr in your eyes you say one last sentence and leave.

“You still love Alys.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fluff #aemond fanfic #aemond angst #hotd fanfic #🍊dreams

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buckets-and-trees · 3 months ago

Text

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and ��

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

#ari levinson #chris evans characters #curtis everett smut #curtis everett #ari levinson smut #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #female reader #tw: dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #happy birthday siri 2024 #aspen wrote something #obsidian stain and sin

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pressureplus · 3 months ago

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Sebastian Solace Injury Headcannons

Warnings: Mentions of blood, anxiety, and Injury, but nothing too particularly graphic, You show up at his shop hurt and he takes care of you

(The way he cares for your injuries slightly varies depending on your relationship)

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

Platonic

• Immediately starts to chastise you the second he can smell the blood on you

• He doesn't have a nose, so how he scrunches it up is beyond you

• Your med kit isn't free, so you definitely owe him and yes, he will remember you owe him

• You can't refuse tho, he's already patching you up before you can really do anything about it

• What are you gonna do, fight him? Fight a thing more than 5 times your size with claws like steel knives? I don't think so.

• He's pretty good at patching wounds, and stays relaxed the whole time he's doing it

• The motions are practiced and easy as he cleans and gauzes and wraps you up

• "Because I pity you, I'll even let you lay on the cot in the corner of my shop, hmm?"

• Understands you are useless and stupid and small, so he guesses he can help you out and demand whatever extra data you have I'm your pockets about a week from now

• He isn't exactly the most concerned with your well-being, but does go out of his way to help you and take care of you sooo...

• You must mean something to him right?

If you're not together but he likes you

• Actually gets a little worried

• He flusters easily, the crush he has for you making it a little bit more difficult for him to think clearly

• That crush making his harsh reactions harsher and his soft ones hard to verbalize

• He grabs you

• I don't have any other way to put this, he literally just reaches out and grabs you before he really thinks about it

• You don't get an explanation, you don't get scolding, he just huffs and gets pissy while he's patching you

• "I thought you were better than this- You REALLY ended up this hurt over something so easy to get away from?"

• Yes, he knows the foul mouth he's got is tanking his chances of ever actually being with you, but he already figures you're never going to want to kiss a fish so why should he care?

• Even if rejection is imminent and unavoidable, and even if he feels the constant need to be mean to you so he can protect himself, he'll still take care of you

• He does like you for a reason- a lot of reasons. And he thinks about those reasons quite a bit... Of course he wants you to be okay

• You're his favorite person, and he would rather die than admit that but also would 100% prioritize your medical care over working his shop

• Him being so fast to grab and tend to your wounds is probably one of the only things you've ever seen from him that's made you sure he doesn't hate you

• Look, there's no way this man would be smoothing his thumb over your newly applied bandages and looking upset at the notion you'd be hurt without you being SOME kind of important

• It doesn't matter how stupid you are, dummy or not, this shit is painfully obvious when he's getting vulnerable over the idea of you getting a nasty enough scar

• Will not let you leave the cot in the room until you're all better, so get ready to be defensively degraded by your favourite shopkeeper for several consecutive days!

If you are together

• Open. Meltdown.

• Panicking, throwing the door on his little store closed and coddling you like you'll fall apart if he's not treating you with the utmost care

• Even scraped knees and bumped elbows get treated like they need full medical, so you can imagine the sort of reactions you're getting to actually bleeding

• Part of him immediately blames himself while he's frantically tending to your injuries, thinking he should have watched you better today, thinking that he should have protected you right

• The next part of him promises he'll be getting whoever or whatever did this to you back for it just as soon as you're all mended and comforted

• He's a mess, a muttering, coddling mess

• You get little kisses to the bandages, as well as some quiet murmurs that attempt to get onto you for not being careful

• The grip you've got around this man's heart is too much for him to be angry, nor pretend to

• You may nearly make him cry if it's bad enough, and his hands may shake at the sight of you so hurt

• Will threaten you if you even THINK about dying, remember he can do worse to you and will if you don't shut up, he can't cope with thinking about losing you shut up shut up shut up-

• Until you're healed, you aren't leaving his bed. He puts you in HIS bed and cuddles up to you any chance that he gets

• You're going to get teased when you're all better and his brain registers it's not a big deal, but until then this is your big, protective fishy husband whether you two have gotten married officially or not

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moonreader1010 · 5 months ago

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Pac- how can you be the b*tch that never loses<3

(the pictures do not belong to me. All rights go to the original owner)

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3 ^

Pile 1:

Go tell your friends about it (about it)

Go tell 'em what you know, what you seen

How I roll, how I get it on the low (oh)

You have a really bright aura. You should really use it. it will take you to great heights. You have this ability to shed enlightenment over literally anyone. That's your superpower. Your connections are very important. You should work on your tolerance. Try to not get so involved in matters that don't concern you. Be helpful but to an extent. I see you giving A LOT to other people. But please look after yourself first. You are sensitive to certain things. Use this ability. Don't let it use you. Okay?. You need to learn how to balance your pride and when to compromise. I see you leaning toward one side more but bby different situations need to be dealt with differently. Yes balance. Another card is also pointing towards balance. Learn balancing things and you will be unstoppable.

There has been some loss. There is some anger too. And bby it is only contributing towards emotional instability. Don't let it control you. You are made for greater things. You might have felt left out a lot in your life but that's because people don't know what to do with you and your amazing self. You are different. And that's such a good thing no? Why don't you let yourself accept it. You won't fit in and that's because you simply are just better than them. Use it!!!!!!

Your brain is AMAZING. Your Ideas are amazing. You can play with emotions!!!!!! Girlllll!!! You really need to go out there and get it. Period.

Additional- Libra, high achiever, materialistic, 3, 1, affinity, triumph.

Song for you - tell your friends by the Weeknd

Pile 2: a bit 18+

You gotta be a star to jump over the moon so when you touch on me

You're a shooting star (a star), oh yeah (a star)

You know you got somethin' for the world to see and there I go

Still wondering who you are (a star, a star, yeah)

Your friendships are very important. Your communication has so much potential to make you a winner. Why don't you use it? You might love solitude and your own company but bby you gotta get out to play. And to win. Sympathy seems to be something that you know how to use. You have it in you. Again, friendship and community has been highlighted. There is a gift that you have inherited from your ancestors. You also seem to have a power in creating suspense and mystery and it's really attractive. You should use it more. Oohhh I see that you are quite feisty. You are not someone who just simply agrees to anything. You oppose it. You make things interesting. Yum. Are you possessive? Because people really admire it in you. In a sexy way. There is this arrogance that even though is conventionally bad but your arrogance is different. It makes things interesting almost. You give people ecstasy. This euphoric feeling. Very feminine energy from this pile.

Additional - cat, business, money.

Song for you - star by Megan thee stallion (feat. Lucky Daye)

Pile 3-

You came along when I needed a savior

Someone to pull me through somehow

I've been torn apart so many times

I've been hurt so many times before

So I'm counting on you now

Somebody already broke my heart

Straight up I'll tell you that i got very slippery energy. Very teasing. I also had this sudden moment where I got really angry. I feel like this pile is very "good girl gone bad" types. Past wounds. You have been hurt. A LOT. There was an earlier version of you that has been killed. You are an entirely new person. I'm getting very "don't touch or I'll break your hand" energy. Ummm. Baddie. Haha. Anyway, there has been a lot of stress, overworking or like some overwhelming experience. Too much to handle. Or maybe that's what people made you feel, that you are too much to handle or very high maintenance. But what do they know. They didn't deserve you (i suddenly felt like I had to tell you this). So true. They definitely don't deserve you. Maternal trauma. I'm so sorry bby. Heavy theme of transformation. Keep your good fait up bby. Do something for your soul and watch how you win. You have been oppressed a lot and it's time to break free. Don't hide. Despite all this, there is an innocence to you and it drives people crazy. Girlllllll. I got goosebumps. Please invest in yourself. Omg are you seriously okay bby? I'm so sorry. But it's over now. Get up and make sure nobody ever thinks about hurting you ever again. Don't suppress your memories bby. Feel them and let them transform you. Girl you are going to win.

Additional - heart, tears, fox, red, 8th house, scorpio.

Song for you - somebody already broke my heart by sade (this song is like a dedication from you to yourself)

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarotblr #free readings #intuitive readings #tarot requests #18+ tarot #18+ readings

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kisseobie · 8 months ago

Text

p1harmony and the coquette boyfriend trend

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: none

based on this tiktok trend

a/n: just a cute and silly little reaction (while i work on tumblr girls) inspired by @yunhoszn 𐙚 this trend is sooo over but who gaf if i wanna put a bow on my piwon’s biceps i should be able to like… also piwon as a whole give me the vibes of that picture of the rotc kid saluting with the caption “me when a bad bitch tell me to do something” so i tried to emulate that here too LMAOO

౨ৎ keeho

i already know kyo’s chornically online ass was made aware of this trend even before it actually took off, was going to bring it up to you, but being the stubborn man he is, opted out of doing so because he thinks it should be you begging him to let you tie him up in a little bow!! and he’s so real for that!! goes as far as reposting every single video following the trend he comes across, and starts humming the lana del rey song whenever your near so he can hopefully telepathically send you signals that he wants you to put a bow on his bicep and show him off!! his approach is a bit unconventional but low and behold it somehow works, and when you do ask him to film that tiktok he annoyingly pretends he didn’t even know about the trend in the first place, as if you didn’t pick up on his very obvious signs. says shit like “why a bow? but omg you’re soooo obsessed with me!” (and you are!)

౨ৎ theo

i imagine you bring it up to him and he’s just confused as to why that’s a trend and what its supposed to mean, and even when you explain it to him he still doesn’t get it. you show him examples and he still doesn’t get it. ask you meaningless questions like “why put a bow on me? what does the bow represent? i’ve never heard of this type of couple trend?” but his questioning doesn’t mean that he’s opposed to it!! quite the opposite actually, he’s very endeared over the fact that you want to make a tiktok with him despite your relationship being fairly new. i do think he would rather have little bows in his hair rather than the usual tie around the bicep, please put him in pigtails and call him your pretty princess because it’s what he deserves! you two end up laughing the entire time you style his hair and film the video, and it’s little moments like these that make your relationship oh so sweet

౨ৎ jiung

literally will do anything you ask for him because once he’s locked in, he’s locked in. when you timidly bring it up to him he’s gonna nod at you with big eyes and his little concentrated pout, reassuring you with no hesitation that yes, he would love for you to wrap him in a pink bow, and no, you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask him for anything. i honestly think ji has a bit of a possessive side if his radio conversation with keeho about his future gf dancing up on other men is anything to go off of, and the fact that you want to claim him as your on the internet, even if it is for a silly little trend, makes his heart happy and feeds into that quality of his. once you’ve filmed the tiktok, with one of his pretty fingers adorned with a singular pink bow, he gives you a kiss on the cheek and keeps the bow on for the rest of the day, even if he has practice later. this experience leads him to spending more time on tiktok despite his grandpa personality, and he searches for other couple videos you two can make together in the future :] just so sweetie pie

౨ৎ intak

honestly just like keeho he’s on tiktok all the time and gets behind trends pretty quickly, so when intak begs you to do this new trend he keeps seeing on his for you page you aren’t surprised. honestly, you had also been wanting to participate in the trend, partly because it’s cute and partly because tak has gorgeous arms, but you kept it quiet because you wanted him to work for it! it’s pretty amusing actually, he ends up forcing you to come along with him to the gym when he works out much more often just so he can lift heavy weights and flex his arms for you. he just wants you to deem his biceps worthy of being wrapped in a bow!! please don’t tease him for too long because he will have a permanent sad puppy look on his face for the rest of the month. when you finally cave and wrap his arm in a bow he is sooo cheesed. had this goofy grin on his face and flexes his muscles which results in him accidentally splitting the bow in two, which both pisses you off and turns you on at the same time?

౨ৎ soul

literally is so pliable under your hands, much like jiung he will let you do anything to him with little to no complaints or even acknowledgement. he simply exists to make his girlfriend happy! you don’t even ask him to film the video because you already know the answer will be yes (in the form of a strange sound), so you get to work as soon as you make way into his dorm room. you stay true to shota’s reputation of being slightly abnormal by wrapping the entirety of your roll of ribbon around his entire body, mummifying him from head to toe and topping it off with a delicately tied bow at his ankles. he doesn’t complain throughout the entire process, even if you’ve interrupted his gaming sesh with seob. when you film and publish the ridiculous tiktok, you point your phone towards him so he can appreciate the fruit of your labor, and when he finally does get to see the video for himself he lets out the biggest laugh that puts an equally big smile on your face

౨ৎ jongseob

you both actually discover the trend together! you two have a routine of cuddling up and scrolling through one of your for you pages, alternating phones each night depending on your battery levels. tonight, jongseob has your back against his chest as he scrolls through your tiktok when the trend first pops up on the screen, and you both get intrigued and scroll through the let the light in sound on tiktok to watch more. you don’t say anything to him but seob can tell you want to participate, and he ends up sweetly informing you that “we can do this trend if you want! i don’t have ribbon on me right now though..” and with that your eyes light up. the two of you end up buying ribbon at the craft store the next day for the sole purpose of filming that video, and you both rush to his dorm afterwards to film the tiktok. you end up settling on wrapping the dainty ribbon around both of his arms and torso, the pair of you refilming several times to get it “just right”. just like the other boys, seob is just happy to please his pretty gf!

ʕ•̫͡ 𐙚

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babyleostuff · 10 months ago

Text

BEING MC AT INKIGAYO WITH SEUNGKWAN AND FALLING FOR EACH OTHER

fluff 𐙚 headcanon + drabble 𐙚 idol!seungwan x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 919

☁️ he’d immediately notice you on his first day, and from that moment on he wouldn’t be able took take his eyes from you ever

☁️ you wouldn’t even have to do anything specific, you could be standing and talking to someone else or literally chill on the sofa with your phone in the makeup room - boo would be just so endeared by you that he wouldn’t want to miss even a second, especially since deep down he’d know that you being MC’s together would finally come to an end

☁️ he’d be so so attentive to you, at some point you’d start noticing that you wouldn’t even have to ask, and seungkwan would immediately be there for you asking what you needed - even if it was something the staff could have done - boo would be the first in line to help you out

☁️ seungkwan, being the born entertainer that he is, would make you laugh 24/7, making the long hours on set so much more bearable and fun, to the point where at the end of the day you wouldn’t really want to go home (and hearing you laugh because of him and his jokes would make him feel so so fluffy and shy on the inside)

☁️ if you’d ever have a clothing malfunction, he’d instantly cover you with his body, looking away not to make you even more uncomfortable

☁️ you’d naturally get closer together quite quickly - your conversations wouldn’t be limited to work only, and you wouldn’t feel awkward when left alone in a room, on the contrary - you’d always feel like you could be yourselves when left alone, you wouldn’t have to act as you did for the cameras

☁️ for some it’d feel rushed or not thought over, but both of you knew that in your profession nothing lasts forever, and things could go as quickly as they came, so you tried to make every moment matter

☁️ his members would soon realise that you were more than just a work partner for seungkwan, he looked at you with so much adoration, softness, and he genuinely felt honoured to be able to MC with you - it was all so evident whenever he looked at you

☁️ the first time seungkwan knew that you were definitely more than just a friend to him was when you had to take a break during recording due to overwork - all he wanted was to be with you and make sure you had everything you needed, he wanted to hold your hand and support you - he wanted to do something

☁️ your favourite moments were probably when your hands touched each other, and you held them next to each other for a moment too long for it to be just an accidental touch, but you had to pretend otherwise so that no one would guess anything

☁️ honestly, seungkwan felt like a teenager in love again - he blushed at your every glance, he was grinning like an idiot when he saw your smile, he loved sitting with you in the makeup room during breaks and talk about the stupidest things - he hadn't felt so happy for a long time

your last day as the MCs’. the last day seungkwan will be able to spend with you.

should he ask for your phone number? invite you for coffee? should he talk to your manager and get permission to go out with you? god it was so stupid.

"kwan?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts, as he nervously paced back and forth in the hallway. he quickly took a deep breath, trying to put on the best smile he could. "yes?"

"thank you," you said, adjusting the numerous bouquets you held in your arms. “i can't remember the last time i had so much fun at work, you're the best," you laughed, bumping your hip against his. "i envy your members that they have you around every day."

"if you only knew how much i would like to have you every day," he thought, feeling his heart sink.

seungkwan couldn't help himself when a strand of hair fell on your forehead, and before he knew what he was doing, he gently brushed it behind your ear. "i had a great time too," he said, for the first time in a long time feeling at a loss for words.

he had to say something though - now was his only chance, and he knew that if he didn't do it, he would never forgive himself, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

"would you like to maybe-"

the moment he gathered his courage and started speaking, the director of the set came around the corner, looking at you with an irritated look. "everyone on set, now."

seungkwan felt like he was about to cry, tears stinging his eyes. well, now it was definitely over.

"i don't want to sound like a creep, but i left my phone number in your bag," you said shyly. "you don't have to call if you don't want to, i’ll understand, but i need you to know that you’re more than just a friend from work for me. i’m so sorry if that made you uncomfortable in any way, i just needed you to know that," you babbled, as if he wasn’t in seventeenth heaven hearing that.

before seungkwan’s brain could even register what was happening, your lips touched his cheek, placing a soft kiss on it.

"now come on."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii

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inez-winchester-cameron · 10 months ago

Note

omg pls write more of what you just posted of rafe with that age gap it's sooo hot 😭 like something about the reader being bratty on purpose and sassing him

cw: dark!rafe x younger!reader, 29 and 19, non-con/rape, drug use, intoxicated reader, talks of free use and public sex, abusive relationship

note: is this too dark, yes or no

rafe HATES when you disobey at parties. ever since you two have started dating, you have a bad habit of misbehaving at parties to get more attention from rafe. whether that be overdrinking, snorting coke, smoking weed, or flirting with other guys. all of these being things that you KNOW rafe disapproves of.

tonight, it happened to be a mix of all of them. you went to the restroom and came back to rafe talking with one of his ex girlfriends, sofia. you completely being oblivious to the fact that he was telling her off. you huff and head back into the room where topper and kelce sit.

they're doing lines and drinking, sitting on opposite sides of a loveseat.

"hey, y/n, have a seat," topper politely greets you, gesturing to an empty chair beside the loveseat but you smile and sit inbetween topper and kelce. they give eachother a look but say nothing.

"whatcha guys doin?" you ask, looking over toppers shoulder as he sets up a line.

"coke, nothing you should concern yourself with."

"yeah rafe would kill us if he knew you were anywhere near this," kelce comments.

"hes too busy bein up sofia's pussy to care. can i do a line?"

kelce and topper both look at you at this comment, a little shocked. they knew rafe and how loyal he was to you, he never even so much as entertained another girl.

"you saw him up her pussy?" kelce asks, confused.

"well no but- it doesnt even matter, just let me do a line."

"sweetheart i dont think-" topper starts.

"pleaseeeeee?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes.

topper sighs and glances to kelce who shrugs. eventually topper responds, "okay fine, sweetie, but you cannot tell rafe."

"i won't, promise! ill even pinky promise if you want!"

topper stares at you for a moment, finding your innocence both endearing and hot at the same time. too bad you aren't his. topper sets up a line for you and gently guides you onto your knees in front of the table. he gives you the dollar bill and guides you as you snort it. you let it sit for a minute, not feeling anything, then it hits. and you want more.

"again!" you say, looking at topper, feeling your brain begin to buzz.

"yeah no i don't-"

"what the fuck are you doing?"

your eyes shoot to the doorway. rafe stands there, arms crossed, hair messy, blood on his knuckles, and he looks pissed.

"rafey!" you greet him, trying to pretend you didn't just snort cocaine. you stand up, swaying, and subsequently falling back onto the couch.

"what the fuck guys?" rafe questions, walking over to you. he looks pissed, "how much did you give her?"

"just a line, man, she asked for it. quite literally," kelce speaks first and topper agrees.

"i didn't know you don't let her do that man, im sorry-" topper defends himself and rafe shakes his head, calming down a bit.

"nah you're good, man. it's her fault. come on, princess, we have some business to discuss." rafe says through gritted teeth, roughly grabbing your arm and heading to his room. once you're upstairs and away from people, he starts scolding you, "what the fuck were you thinking? you know so much better than that."

"you were talking to Sof-"

"yeah i was telling her to go suck a fucking dick. then i beat the shit out of her boyfriend for calling you a whore. but maybe he was right, you don't think about anyone but yourself, huh? always just assuming. saw the way you were staring at top." rafe speaks with no sympathy and you two slip into his bedroom. he presses you down onto the bed, holding your hands behind your back as he flips your little skirt up, "no panties? you fucking serious? god what is wrong with you? you stupid little whore."

you hear his belt unbuckle and your head continues buzzing from your high. soon enough, you feel his cock, pushing into you. it's immediately too much.

"rafe-! no no no-"

"don't tell me fucking no, bitch. act like a whore, get treated like one. maybe i should've just fucked you downstairs," rafe starts, setting a fast pace with his thrusts, not hearing any of your protests, "or maybe i should tie you up down there, let all these drunk men use your holes since you wanna disobey. i think that's a fair punishment, huh? i try to be nice and defend your honor and you make eyes at two of my best friends. fucking bitch."

"rafe i didn't- i don't want this- stop!" you beg but rafe doesn't care. he simply tugs your hair in response as you start crying. your head is pounding and it's all too much.

"that's it, cry for it, bitch. this is my fucking pussy and i'm gonna use it when i want. now whine one more time and i'm gonna make this pussy free use to the entire island."

you whimper and stay quiet in response. you think about leaving rafe, but you can't, you love him and maybe you even secretly loved being fucked against your will.

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshots #rafe obx #rafe cameron thirst

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farfromstrange · 28 days ago

Text

Fictober Day 14: Sickfic

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Sickfic (🌼)

Summary: Matt doesn't like admitting when he's sick, but his behavior says more than a thousand words.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of vomiting, sickfic (the flu, to be more precise), Matt being a mess, established relationship, mentions of nudity (nothing sexual, but Matt's Devil is on display)

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: I always wonder what it would be like for Matt when he gets sick because my senses are out of whack when I'm sick, so he must be in hell, right?

Read Me On AO3!

Matt Murdock doesn’t get sick.

At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself.

His immune system is strong, and people with a strong immune system don’t get sick. Except, his logic is incredibly flawed, and when he does get sick, he refuses to admit it until he’s quite literally on the brink of death. You’ve learned this the hard way over the years; he turns into a feverish, disoriented, ridiculous man-child whenever he’s down with something.

The door falls shut behind you, a bag from the local pharmacy in one hand and chicken broth take-out in the other. Matt managed to catch himself the flu—again. You told him that is what he gets for going out in the dead of night, but he never learns.

“Honey, I’m home!” you sing.

Though instead of finding your boyfriend wrapped in a burrito of blankets in bed, where he should be, he’s standing in the middle of the living room, trying to wrestle the Daredevil suit over his clammy skin. So far, he has only managed to get half of it on, and—oh no, why—his pants are on the floor. No pants, and yes, no underwear.

From the looks of it, he is as hot as he is cold.

“Uh,” you frown, “hello? What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“I have to–” Matt tries to catch his breath, failing to find the opening in the fabric. “The city. The city needs me.”

He’s so congested you would have laughed at him any other day, but not today.

“Nuh-uh. Your bed needs you,” you retort. “And for God’s sake, Matt, put your pants back on!”

He tugs on the suit again, but it’s like watching a toddler trying to put on a pair of socks. He’s too weak, too sweaty, and too feverish to even know which way is up.

“I don’t… need pants,” Matt argues.

“Yes, you do.” You put the bags down by the coffee table and grab his boxers off the floor. “Normally, I don’t mind seeing you naked, but you’re sick, and sick people need pants.”

He frowns at you, head tilting in your direction. “No… Is someone knocking?”

You pause, trying not to laugh. “That’s my heartbeat.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

His hand drifts up toward your chest on autopilot, and the moment his fingers brush against the swell of your breast, you stop him. “That’s my boob,” you say.

God, he’s exhausting. If you didn’t love him so much you would turn around and run. The last time he tore off all his clothes, he ended up on the roof while it was snowing, trying to cool off. It sounded as though he was holding a seance, and you swore you would never make the mistake of leaving the rooftop access open again, not when he’s sick and doesn’t know what he’s doing. His senses get cloudy, and he starts to hallucinate.

Fun times.

Matt’s hand stays there for a moment. “Soft,” he murmurs.

The groping stage is new, but you find it more endearing than anything. You take his hand away. “Remember what I said?”

“No?”

“Underwear,” you tell him, lips curling into a smile, “Then straight to bed.”

He retreats like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Alright, come on. You’re dizzy.” You start to guide him toward the bedroom. Maybe you can finally convince him to get some rest.

“No, I’m not—” Matt takes one wobbly step and immediately starts to tip forward, legs giving out underneath him.

You catch him just in time, which is a feat because he is heavy, keeping him from face-planting into the coffee table. “Yep. Definitely dizzy,” you say.

He groans. Happens every time. “I don’t get sick,” he insists.

You drag him over to the bed. “You sure about that?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.” You lower him down on the mattress, and for the first time today, he lets you. “Let me just get you your medicine, okay?”

“No!” he whines.

“Yes.”

He makes a face like a petulant child. “Tastes bad.”

You sigh. “Do I need to wrap it in peanut butter for you?”

He doesn’t answer, just grumbles something unintelligible. You grab the bag from the living room and the jar of peanut butter from the kitchen. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” you scoop up a spoonful of peanut butter, “I have a dog.”

But it’s the only way he will take the cough syrup. It’s the only way he will swallow the bitter taste of the ibuprofen. And it is the only way Matt will even eat something when he’s sick. “Eat this,” you say, “and I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Matt, still half-delirious, opens his mouth obediently, taking the spoon into his mouth. “It’s not even… that good,” he says.

Liar. You chuckle. “Lie back, c’mon.”

The bed creaks under your weight as you climb in beside him, pulling the covers up and over him. He hesitates, torn between telling you for the hundredth time that he is not sick, and he never gets sick, and just melting into your embrace like a candle on its last bit of wax. His body aches, his cheeks are burning, and he can barely breathe without breaking into a fit of toe-curling coughs. He’s miserable, and he has to admit it. He has to admit it so he can rest—so you can get your boyfriend back.

He loves you to death.

You brush your fingers through his messy hair. “Come here,” you say.

Matt presses his face against your chest. “I hate being sick,” he says.

It is the most honest he has been all day.

“I know.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

“Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Shh,” you shush him. “Just rest, baby. I’ve got you.”

He clings to you, his breathing finally starting to even out. He snores, and he wheezes, but he falls asleep, finally, still holding onto you like his life depends on it, and you are right where you need to be.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #sickfic #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #lizzi's fictober 2024 #charlie cox

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earlysunshines · 4 months ago

Text

once in a moon

pham hanni x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: hanni meets the new girl and she's oddly familiar -- familiar in a way that makes her heart ache.

warnings: childhood friends to something less, more, and in between, to lovers ; basketball player reader ooo and hanni is in student gov ; angst AND pining omg ; minji a victim (bystander of idiots) always ; hyein fr plotting ; THERE'S ONLY ONE BED??? ahahaa ; making out YAY ; anything else I didn't mention ; guess what... KINDA proofread muahahaha

a/n: mmm quite long like... looong and idk how I feel ab the pacing mmm but I like this one I think yes mm hmm ≧◡≦

hanni lets hyein drag her to the girls' basketball practice, the underclassman chattering excitedly about new girl who had made the team the same day she transferred. despite acting annoyed, hanni is intrigued. according to hyein, the new girl not only makes 9 out of 10 three-pointers, but is also stunning.

“even haerin thinks she’s really pretty, and she never admits things like that, hanni.”

“wow, she must be a hot shot then,” the older girl responds sarcastically, making hyein roll her eyes.

“shut up, don’t come drooling to me when you finally meet her and she becomes the girl you’re fixated on for at least the next month.”

“okay, okay, i get it. this new girl is something special or whatever.” hanni continues to be dragged towards the basketball courts, hyein steering her away from where the guys practice and toward the bleachers in front of where the girls are. “is their practice even over?”

“haerin said they end at five, that’s in five minutes. we’re right on time!”

“i can’t believe i let a child drag me back to school after hours.”

“you were already staying after! you literally have to plan half the events, fundraisers, and whatever else you do… you were literally in mr. ahn’s class with minji and dani.”

hyein got hanni there, making hanni scoff jokingly. the younger girl sits down in the bleachers' second row, watching all the girls finish running up and down the court. once they finish, a few sit down tiredly, sweat making their faces glow in the light that seeps through the windows.

hanni already knows half the basketball team thanks to haerin, so it shouldn’t be too hard to spot this wonder of a girl. she scans the team, her eyes skimming over the players she’s familiar with until they land on a sweaty, uncovered torso and defined abs. her eyes widen – partly from shock at how someone can be built that well, but also because the girl looks oddly familiar.

as she continues to stare, trying to place where she’s seen her before, hyein nudges her. "see what i mean? she’s something else, right? she’s in your grade, you should make a move or become friends with her."

hanni nods absently, still figuring out why the girl seems so familiar. the new girl’s face comes into view as she turns to grab a water bottle, and hanni’s jaw drops.

"it can’t be," hanni whispers, more to herself than to hyein.

hyein looks at her curiously. "you know her?"

hanni swallows hard, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up. "yeah, i think i do."

the younger girl grabs hanni’s wrist and starts to drag her away again, this time towards haerin, who’s talking to the familiar girl.

when hanni meets your eyes right after you glance down, both of your eyes widen at the same time, the revelation hitting the two of you just as hard. recognition floods in, bringing back memories of how you know each other.

hanni can’t believe her eyes, it’s you – l/n y/n.

–

you and hanni knew each other alright, she was the main part – one of the few people that you remembered in detail – of your childhood. if anything, she was your childhood.

both of you had known each other since second grade, which led to a strong friendship. you spent your days growing up together, laughing and playing, inseparable through the years. from recess adventures to sleepovers filled with whispered secrets and shared dreams, your whole worlds revolved around each other. you had countless inside jokes, understood each other’s moods without a word, and could communicate with just a glance. your families even joked that you were joined at the hip, and as you grew, so did the bond that seemed unbreakable.

when middle school rolled around, things got rocky – just as things always do at this age.

you and hanni still spent most of your time together, but she was a social butterfly, making so many new friends and putting herself out there to the point that it was hard to keep up.

of course, you wanted to be there for her, but your timid nature never really changed. you trailed along whenever she went out, feeling like her shadow as she laughed and joked with everyone else. hanni always made sure to check on you, reminding you that your presence mattered to her, that she appreciated you. yet, despite her kindness, it was draining. the constant effort to blend into the background while staying close to her took a toll on you, leaving you both comforted and exhausted.

you stopped tagging along because the only reason you ever did was to spend more time with her. it was strange, the feeling you had when you were with hanni or even thinking about her. you had never felt anything like it.

she would smile while with her friends, and you fought back the urge to smile back. sometimes she’d rest her hand on your arm, sending a shiver through you. when she looked you dead in the eye, you would always retreat. she did things to you that weren’t explainable. they were foreign, making you uneasy and weak in the knees to the point that it all just frustrated and confused you.

your heart yearned for her, and you knew that was dangerous. she had so many other friends and people there for her; it was almost like she was growing out of you. you felt like a thorn in her side, something she needed to pick out in order to really break out of her shell. it hurt to see her laughing, smiling, and being so touchy with her new friends when it used to be just with you. you wanted it to stay as just you being the light in her life.

the person you had known most of your life was growing into someone lovable, someone you loved more than words could explain. and what did you do? you were thirteen; what else could you do other than distance yourself and sulk? the depth of your feelings overwhelmed you, and the only way you knew how to cope was to retreat, watching from the sidelines as she blossomed without you.

you stopped tagging along, visited her house less often, and dismissed more than half her efforts to see you because every time you spent time with her, your heart ached. you saw the stars in her eyes, and it felt like you were some meteor drifting away from her, destined to lose her light.

and besides, you would soon be distant from her physically as well. it was inevitable with your dad’s new job, which promised to support you and your mom much better. the move would take you a continent away, so what was the point of getting closer? it seemed wiser to start distancing yourself now, to make ripping the bandaid off less painful.

of course, this didn’t go unnoticed. hanni grew increasingly confused as to why you were being so distant. was it something she did? were you having trouble? what was going on with you? she wanted to talk to you about it, but you always pushed her away, no matter how hard she tried. even when she managed to get you to open up just a little, it never provided a clear answer. frustrated and hurt, she began to distance herself as well, finding it hard to connect with someone who now seemed so different. she began to spend more time with her other friends, always feeling like something had been missing with each outing.

she just wanted her y/n back, but it felt like the y/n she had known had transformed into someone so foreign that she couldn’t even tell if it was really you anymore.

before she could do anything about the rift, just wanting you back again as her friend and the person who made her heart do jumps in her chest, you had to break the news to her.

hanni remembers it all so clearly, seeing you at her doorstep for the first time in at least a month without any warning before. even with everything that had happened between the two of you, she was happy that you were there in front of her.

“y/n, hi.” a small smile immediately graces her lips, she’s relieved. she looks up at you a bit, you’ve always been taller, but with all the distance and lack of time to be around you, it seemed that you had grown a bit more than she had thought. “what are you doing here?”

your expression is stone cold, with a little hint of hurt and regret. “i’m leaving tomorrow.”

“what do you mean? on vacation or something?”

“korea, hanni. my dad got a good job there, we’re moving.”

“y/n, what are you saying? it’s only for a little while, right?” her brows crinkle, she tries to read your face, praying that this is a joke. “right?”

you don’t answer.

“y/n, how long have you– when did you find this out?”

“six months ago.” you mutter bluntly. “i just, didn’t want you to be so surprised when i wouldn’t be in school.”

her voice cracks and you almost crack too. “y/n, you’re fucking lying to me right now. are you serious? and you spent those eight months talking to me three times a month max?”

for the first time, you look her in the eye, then mumble, “i’m sorry.”

“y/n, how could you just drop this on me? we have to– when will i see you again?”

“i don’t know hanni, but you’ll get over it.” hanni is shocked by the slight tone of anger in your voice. “you have all these friends and people who admire you, why do you care so much about me? just get over it.”

“you’re fucking kidding. get over you? y/n, you think i can just do that like this?” she snaps her finger to emphasize her words. you flinch. “is this why you’ve been avoiding me? because you’re jealous that i have more friends than you? you pushed me away because i had friends?”

“you’re calling me a loser?” her wording makes you scoff. “i didn’t know you could be so fucking rude.”

“that’s not what i meant y/n,” she pauses, her expression softening. “you know what i meant, i just–”

“i do know what you mean. fuck this hanni, you’ll be rid of me anyway.” you spit, then turn around. hanni walks after you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. “what the hell do you want?”

her eyes shine from tears starting to line her eyes, she looks at you desperately. “y/n, please don’t leave.” her grip tightens. “please, i can’t lose you.”

hanni remembers watching you gulp, seeing a split second of regret, sorrow, anger, and everything in between flash across your face. “i’m sorry.”

she recalls crying for hours on end, trying to text you apologies and heartfelt messages, begging you to see her just once more. you tried desperately to ease the amount of hurt hanni would feel throughout those eight months, but it only made it worse. the more you distanced yourself, the more she felt the sting of your absence, and your efforts to protect her heart only seemed to break it further.

–

she stares at you, frozen in place. your features are the same, just matured and even more appealing. her eyes trace the curve of your nose, the shape of your eyes, and down to your lips—the lips she used to stare at for a bit too long back when you would fall asleep in her bed years ago. it's you, there’s no doubt about it. she knows you like the back of her palm even if years have passed.

you’re taller now, much taller, by at least eight or ten centimeters. you almost tower over her, your height a testament to the years you've spent playing basketball. the way your eyes narrow gives her that same feeling you had given her years prior. you still have that same intensity she always found endearing, and it washes over her in a wave of emotions.

“y/n,” she practically breathes out. “you’re– you’re here.”

your jaw tightens as you stare down at her, ignoring the sweat drop that falls off the end of your chin.

there are goosebumps forming as you stare back, realizing that after years of trying to forget the face you admired the most for so much of your life—years of convincing yourself you could live normally even when thoughts of her crossed your mind—you thought you'd be fine if you ever ran into her again. you believed you had moved on, even after the big argument and the years of forcing resentment, but that's not the case.

far from it, because hanni looks even prettier than she did back then, her features more mature yet still warm and achingly familiar. her eyes are as bright as ever, still holding that wonder and curiosity despite how poorly you treated her with your sudden news and departure.

as you meet her gaze again after all these years, you feel the world stop spinning beneath your feet. she's stunning, more beautiful than ever, and it takes your breath away.

you force yourself to stop gazing and look over to haerin, rubbing the sweat off your face and mumbling, “i have to go, my aunt expects me back.” before you pat her on the shoulder and hurry off, leaving hanni’s whole world shaken up.

haerin just nods, then looks back at the shorter girl. “what’s up with you, do you know y/n?”

“um, yeah.” hanni says simply, still watching you while you walk towards the girls locker room. you turn back to glance at her and hanni feels her heart sink. “we knew each other in middle school.”

“oh really? she used to live around here?”

hanni hums.

and she’s back now, leaving and returning with no fucking warning.

–

you spent the rest of the evening and night (really until you fell asleep) thinking of hanni. of course she still lived in town, she was never far from your aunt anyway.

moving back to where you grew up allowed thoughts of hanni and your past to resurface. the chance of running into her wasn’t too high, or low for that matter. you lived with your aunt, just a twenty-minute bus ride from your old house—the house filled with memories you had pushed down and shoved away for the sake of your sanity.

the whole reason you moved back was because the schools here were better, and you genuinely preferred your hometown to the overwhelming city. the academic life here was better, less overwhelming, and all your favorite spots—restaurants, cafes, parks, and other places you’d wander off to back then—were conveniently located here. what made it even better was that your favorite basketball court was just a short five-minute walk from your new home, perfect for cooling down and improving your skills during practice.

you had thought moving here would be great, even if you ran into hanni, because you believed you had moved on from her. it stung a bit more now that you actually had ran into her, but at least you didn’t share any classes or lunches with her, and you hadn’t seen her in the hallways after a week at the new school. so what if you both attended the same place? things were still going your way.

the counselor sits you down and slides you a paper. you quirk a brow looking at it.

“what’s this?”

“miss l/n, i’m afraid they’ve messed up transferring the credits you had in korea, so we had to rearrange your classes and drop your courses for others. i apologize for the trouble, but it’s for the sole purpose of graduating.” she explains, then points to your paper. “if it makes you feel better, these classes are much easier than the ones you had previously. it’s all going to work out in the end.”

you huff as you review each change. now, you have two free periods, which is a definite plus compared to your packed schedule before. the order of your classes has completely shuffled, except for two classes—thankfully, at least those will be easy to find. on top of that, your homeroom has changed, which you don't mind at all, especially since the previous teacher had greeted you with the nastiest glare upon your arrival.

there’s nothing you can do to change it anyway, you’re just trying to graduate and get direct admission into the university downtown at the end of it all. if your schedule is changed in order for that to happen, then so be it.

“thank you.”

“the classes that changed are all upstairs, so the constants are still down on the first floor. your lunches have changed too, but you can sort that out easily with the teachers. i hope it’s not too much for you.”

you wave your hands in the air. “it’s fine, really. i’ll just get going then, thank you.”

–

it is everything but fine.

the bell had already rung, the halls were empty for the most part, and had just made your way upstairs. you find room 242 after searching for at least two minutes, your base physics class got dropped so now you’re taking advanced honors environmental sciences, unfortunately.

after knocking twice on the door, it’s opened by a middle-aged man around two centimeters taller than you. he greets you warmly, “ah, you must be the transfer? miss l/n, is that right?”

“yes, that’s me. y/n l/n.”

“great, come on in. we’ve just started, but i can help fill you in.”

“thanks.”

you walk in and clutch the strap of your bag with one hand. every head turns to face you, each classmate clearly intrigued by the newcomer—by you.

“ah, right. i’m mr. wei, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”

“oh, um.” you clear your throat, looking down at some random desk as you begin, “my name is y/n l/n, it’s nice to meet you all.”

looking up, you meet someones eyes in the second row, and of course it’s no one other than hanni pham, her eyes widened slightly. her brows furrow just barely at the sight of you and it makes you bite down on your teeth.

“alright, you take that empty seat by the window next to minji. could you raise your hand minji?”

a girl with dark hair raises her hand, seated directly behind hanni. your shoulders sink slightly, but you push down any feelings and walk over to take the seat. thankfully, there isn’t much commotion. sure, you’re new and everyone’s curious about you, but it’s just a tuesday morning and everyone has other concerns. and you? you have to focus on sitting behind her.

you set your bag down and sit next to minji, offering her a small smile before turning your attention to the board.

hanni fights the urge to glance back at you. she considers asking minji for a pen as an excuse, but hanni always has her own writing supplies and minji would likely brush off her request, making her feel foolish in front of you. she sighs softly, forcing her gaze to stay fixed on the front of the room, struggling to pay attention despite you sitting right behind her.

“did they mess up your schedule?” minji asks you quietly as mr. wei starts his lesson. “they do that with a lot of new kids.”

“oh, yeah. i wanted direct admission to the uni, ador has a lot of good programs for what i want to pursue so…”

“ohhhh,” minji nods, then picks up her pen. “yeah, a lot of the advanced honors kids are doing that, everyone here is actually.”

that means hanni falls into that. “oh, really?”

“well, most.” minji shrugs. “anyway, before he starts actually teaching; i’m minji, nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you too.”

she smiles and slides her notebook. “we’ve had a few lessons prior, so if you need notes or anything just snap a picture.”

“thanks, i appreciate it.”

“it’s nothing, you’ll get the hang of it.”

hanni hears the whole exchange happening behind her, and she desperately wants to join in. there's nothing she wants more than to talk to you again, maybe even steal a glance at you for a little longer. it's been so long, and there are so many unanswered questions. hanni can't even tell if you're real or just a figment of her imagination. the longing to reconnect is almost overwhelming, but she hesitates, unsure of how you would react after all this time – unsure of how she’ll be talking to you again.

–

it turns out that hanni is in every single class that has changed, so ⅔’s of your classes. it was surely something to see her face everytime you had to introduce yourself to everyone in every class. however, minji and a few girls from your team had also been in each class, so it was good to know that you weren’t fully singled out.

minji makes an attempt to invite you over to sit with her at lunch, but once you see hanni at her table, you quickly make up an excuse.

“oh sorry, the girls on the basketball team wanted to talk to me more about um, our plays…” you poke your tongue at your cheek. “but maybe another time?”

“oh that’s chill, don’t worry about it! another time is great, i’ll see you back at class then!”

you force a smile, aware of hanni's gaze following you as you walk over to where haerin, yunjin, and rei sit.

minji settles down in front of hanni, waiting for hyein and danielle to join as she pulls out her lunchbox. taking a bite of her chicken and rice, minji glances over at you before turning back to hanni. "the new girl seems pretty nice, huh?"

"i guess," hanni mumbles, chin resting on her palm with her lower lip slightly protruding.

of course, you end up in every class with hanni, and naturally, you sit next to her best friend in each one. despite the circumstances, you find yourself avoiding her just like before. it’s frustrating.

“you got something against her?” minji jokes, not expecting hanni to let out a big sigh.

“i don’t know.” she starts, watching you smile at haerin. “we knew each other in middle school, but she can barely look at me.”

minji stops chewing. “really?”

"yeah, you can still talk and be friends with her!" she catches herself and raises her hands in defense. "i think she's great, i mean, we just... drifted apart."

"aw, it happens though. you sure i can talk to her though? like, certain?"

"yeah, it's no big deal, really." hanni resents you for making her cry for four hours straight that day, but deep down, she knows you're a sweetheart. she could never hate you, and she wouldn’t do anything to prevent you from simply having a social life. "it's nothing."

"alright, whatever you say," minji says, then pulls out another bag from her backpack. "yo, i brought some bread from the bakery."

hanni's pondering is interrupted, and her eyes light up when minji holds out the small paper bag with her favorite milk bun inside. she eagerly grabs it and smiles with her teeth, causing minji to snicker and roll her eyes.

you catch the whole thing in the corner of your eye, absentmindedly smiling.

–

“niiice one y/n!” your coach claps his hands after you land a half-court shot with ease. “alright, that’s it for the day! back and forth across the court ten times and you’re free to go. good job everyone, make sure to rest up for the game tomorrow! be here by 4:30, got it girls?”

“yes coach!” the team says in unison.

you run a hand through your slightly damp hair before deeply inhaling. yunjin finds you and you smile tiredly at her, the two of you meet at one end of the court and start to run. by the time you’re done, you’re chuckling at how tired yunjin is as you recover.

“the hell are you laughing at?” she says in between breaths, “you’re no better than i am right now.”

she’s right, you’re both drained and beat from practice, but it really makes everything funnier than it is in the moment.

you’ve settled in well after nearly a month, getting closer with the basketball team and even branching out to meet their friends (all thanks to yunjin, who had a bit of a reputation and popularity, and an additional soft spot for you). you weren’t popular like yunjin or anything of that sort, but you were content with where you were.

minji had also started talking to you more, and the two of you had gotten pretty close, even hanging out after school before your practices. she occasionally caught you at her parents' bakery too, often mingling with you while you had a pastry in your mouth. though minji was still a bit confused about the tension between you and her best friend hanni, it didn’t trouble her too much. you kept to yourself, and really, you were a very calm, sweet person.

the next day, minji catches you in between classes. you’re grabbing something from your locker when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see her.

“game day?”

“oh, yeah.” you answer as you shuffle through your bag. “you coming?”

“i was going to go with my group.” minji’s group consisting of hanni, you take note of that. “haerin never really says anything about the games, but we love to support her. hyein also wants to watch you play.”

you giggle and close the locker door. “the underclassman?”

“yeah. don’t tell her i told you but she’s kind of a fangirl.”

“of me?”

“yeah, she thinks you’re sick.”

another laugh leaves your lips, now you’re walking over to class with minji. “well, i’m not against making another friend.”

“pftt, she’s something though.” minji jokes. “how about two friends?”

“two?”

“i think you and hanni would be good friends, you know?” you almost freeze on the spot. “she told me you guys drifted in middle school, maybe you guys can mingle again, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

your whole body tenses as you walk through the classroom door. you spot hanni sitting next to yunjin, her eyes meeting yours the moment you enter. you quickly look back at minji, shrugging and trying your best to play off your hesitation.

"doesn't sound bad at all, why not?" you say, forcing a casual tone into your voice.

little did you know, minji had something up her sleeve. while you set your bag down and pull out your history notes, she walks over to hanni. minji looks at hanni intensely, then glances at you. ever since she heard about the vague fallout between you and hanni, she had been itching to know more—and possibly rekindle the old spark. it wasn't like anything bad had happened between you two (she assumes); people grow apart, but they can also find their way back to each other.

you glance at hanni before class starts, not expecting her to already be looking at you. as soon as you two make eye contact, hanni turns away, picking up her pencil.

–

minji manages to convince—more like drag—hanni out of her house and into her car. haerin has a basketball game against the rival school, so hanni is basically obligated to go. to be fair, why would she complain about seeing haerin run up and down the court and smugly smile when their team scored a point? it was fun to see haerin in her zone, and hanni always enjoyed the excitement of the games.

but this time it was different, with you in the starting lineup and being the new star on the court.

she sat on the uppermost level of the bleachers with hyein and minji beside her. hyein had linked her arm with hers, cheering on for haerin.

hanni’s eyes are glued to you most of the time. it’s not her fault you had control of the ball so often, scoring here and there. she couldn’t keep her eyes off you even when you weren’t actively playing; you could be watching the ball or assessing the situation while your teammates defended, and hanni would still be looking at you. while you had been on the sidelines temporarily, she noticed how the sweat made your skin glisten, and hanni wondered what had happened over the four years for you to develop such toned arms and athletic shoulders. you looked strong and confident, a far cry from who she remembered.

“hanni, you know the ball is on the other side of the court, right?” hyein nudges the older girl, then looks in the direction that hanni is looking. “seems like someone caught your eye.”

hanni shoves hyein over. “stop that.” she scoffs. you take your eyes away from yunjin after she scores, then your eyes meet hanni’s, and hanni pauses in place momentarily before looking over to yunjin.

you narrow your eyes at her, biting the inside of your lip.

–

the phone in your pocket rings, you fish it out to see minji’s contact name on your screen.

“hey?”

“where are you?”

“oh, locker room.”

“meet me at the front of the school after! i have a cookie and friends.”

you laugh before answering, “right, thanks minji. give me five.”

after rinsing your face with some cold water and dabbing off the sweat on your neck, you strip out of your jersey and throw a hoodie over. yunjin slaps you on the back on the way out and you wince, shooting her a glare – which only makes her laugh more.

you walk out the entrance and look around for your friend, eyes lighting up when you see her with her own respective group. haerin is already tehre, when she spots you she waves. when hanni sees you though, she looks hesitant.

“hi.” you greet. “did you guys enjoy the game?”

“you won! how could we not?” an unfamiliar girl says. the girl looks younger, but she’s taller than the rest of the bunch. “i’m hyein by the way!”

“ohh hyein, minji mentioned you.” you giggle before adding, “didn’t know you’d be towering her.”

the bunch laughs – hanni smiles at the remark – and so do you.

“anyway, i’d love to stay and talk but i need to be home soon.”

danielle tilts her head and asks, “where are your keys?”

“oh, i’m walking.”

“dude,” minji says in disbelief. “after running up and down the court that much? no way man. i can give you a ride.”

waving your hands in the air frantically, you assure, “no, no. it’s fine, i mean, more cardio for me.”

“you’re getting in my car bro.”

and now you find yourself in minji’s car after she convinced hyein—the only person close to her height—to drag you along. you couldn’t argue with hyein; she’s young, and the little pout she gave you was enough to make you relent.

that’s how you end up in the backseat with hanni.

hyein called shotgun, and you weren’t going to argue, especially since minji dropping you off was a last-minute decision. but if you had known you’d be bundled up with hanni alone in the backseat (danielle decided to tag along with haerin, avoiding the tension), you would’ve found a way to avoid this whole situation. to make matters worse, some random, very heavy box was taking up a seat, leaving you and hanni with no space in between. just your luck.

the youngest grabs minji’s phone and plays some random pop song, eagerly humming along.

“yo, type in your address.” minji tilts down the mirror above and looks at you through it, raising a brow. hyein hands you the phone and you manage to brush arms with hanni as you reach over.

hyein turns up the volume after you hand her the phone back. your place is less than ten minutes away, but it feels ten minutes too long.

you try your best to cope with the tension in the air, and hanni does too. she’s angled toward the window—away from you—and you’re sitting in the middle seat, trying to focus on the road. minji turns a little too aggressively at one point, causing you to lean against hanni, making you both blush equally.

“sorry,” you mumble.

“it’s fine,” hanni replies, her voice still as sweet as you remember. it's still as soft and reassuring when she quietly adds, “minji’s not the best at driving sometimes.”

as soon as she says that, minji’s back to driving straight ahead. you can’t help but laugh softly, unable to fight it. “it’s not too bad,” you say, feeling a little of the tension ease with the shared moment of humor.

neither of you share anything else after that, the silence squeezing you two.

when minji reaches your place and parks in front of it, hanni has to get out so you can. as you step out, you make eye contact with her, and something electric runs up your spine. you watch her climb back into the car, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she settles back into her seat.

minji rolls down the drivers side window. “oh yeah, here’s your cookie.” she says, “see you next week! enjoy your weekend!”

“you too!” you respond, then peek at hyein. “nice meeting you hyeinie, can’t wait to see you around.”

her mouth opens before she smiles at you, teeth and all. “yeah, me too!”

even hanni rolls down her window, catching you by surprise. your eyes widen just a little when you see her looking at you, smiling.

“good game y/n, you’re really good.”

you inhale, then breathe out your response, “thanks.” and purse your lips into a smile.

minji waves once more before driving away, and you head inside. no one is home yet, so you quickly drop your bag off in your room, head to the bathroom to clean yourself up after being sweaty for over two hours, and finally flop onto your bed once everything is done. the encounter with hanni replays in your mind, the tension and awkwardness still lingering as you try to relax and unwind.

hanni lingers in your mind, she’s always been in the back of it anyway.

you don't know if it's even possible to become friends with her again. it's what you really want, but can you even achieve that? you're avoiding her left and right, failing to hold eye contact or maintain a conversation with her for more than three seconds. yet, the fact that she had initiated the interaction this time, even adding something lighthearted in the car, sparks something within you. every small moment between you two, however insignificant it seems, ignites a huge feeling inside of you. it’s a confusing mix of hope and fear, leaving you wondering if there's a chance to mend what was broken. it’s all your fault anyway -- basically.

–

“alright everyone, please settle down.” mr. wei says. he claps his hands and looks as happy as ever. “i have an important announcement! so as you know, we a big project this year. i’m going to introduce it today and give you a small rundown. oh! and by the way, this project is worth half your grade.”

as you sigh, you catch hanni in the corner of your eye, putting her head down in defeat and muttering a small “fuck.” in response to the news.

“i’m going to give you all the rubric and your assigned partners.”

“what?” jake groans, “c’mon, why can’t we choose? what if my partner doesn’t do shit?”

“that’s something coming from you mr. sim.” sim jaehyun has a known record for paying people to do his work, plus, he’s not the brightest. the only thing he’s known for is being nice on the eyes and a great point guard. “i’m assigning the partners because you all are graduating this year. in the future, most of the time you won’t have a choice. got it?”

the class falls silent, you close your eyes and sigh again.

just get it over with.

“now, you’ll be given time to discuss various topics regarding environmental science. our main concern is human impacts on our environment, got it? please discuss positive and negative impacts that you can analyze and present to the class, alright! there’s a special part of this project that i know you will all look forward to, so please keep this in the back of your mind for the next month.”

minji nudges you and you hum. she leans closer to you, eyes still on the board, then mumbles, “i really hope i don’t get jake.”

“same. with districts coming up i’d rather die than have him as my partner. his brain isn’t working unless it’s basketball that’s mentioned, he’ll yap my ear off.”

your seatmate chuckles and looks at jake, then back at you. “and you’re not any better?”

“basketball is just a hobby, this chemistry grade is worth more my time and effort, don’t be ridiculous.”

she rolls her eyes and refocuses her attention on mr. wei, who has finally found the paper listing each pair. anxiety churns in your stomach as you wait for him to read the names. you really hope you're not paired with jake—or any of his friends. the thought of working with them sounds worse than nails scratching a chalkboard.

“right, jaehyun, since you’re so eager to know who you’re with, let’s start with you.” mr. wei looks up from the paper, narrowing his eyes at the cocky guy. “you’ll be paired with soobin.”

you catch danielle and hanni in front of you locking eyes, fighting back snickers. the two cover their mouths with their hands and exchange a knowing conversation through countless gestures, shoves, and widening of eyes. their silent communication is filled with amusement, and you don’t know enough about soobin to understand what they’re so entertained by.

“right, minji and danielle.” he adds, you hear a relieved sigh from minji as soon as he says it. danielle turns around and smiles brightly, grabbing minji’s hands and shaking them excitedly.

“yunjin and kazuha… minjeong and jimin… anton and sungchan…”

he goes down the list, pausing to put on his reading glasses to read the last few pairs, until he gets to the final one.

“and finally, hanni and y/n.”

you freeze, your breath catching in your throat as mr. wei sets the paper down. of course this would happen; you managed to transfer to the same school as hanni and now you're partnered with her on the biggest project of the year.

hanni turns her head to look at you, her expression unreadable. you lock eyes for a moment, the awkwardness hanging thick in the air, before you shift your gaze out the window, your palm pressing against your cheek as you rest your head on it.

mr. wei claps his hands and smiles brightly. “right! so,” he begins, looking around the room. most of the class seems content with their pairings, some look like the world has just ended, and others are simply dealing with it —you fall into this last group. “as you can tell, you’ve all been partnered with someone of the same gender. this isn’t an accident, you’ll find out eventually. our school has partnered with a research facility and set up a little trip in the spring—in a few months—in order to contribute to these studies and potentially find solutions to current environmental problems. i’d like you all to keep in contact with your partners and brainstorm until next tuesday. please come back to me with a valid research topic. now, let’s start our lesson, shall we?”

hanni can’t lie; she’s thrilled to be put in this nerve-racking situation. sure, she’s a little very terrified of you, considering your whole demeanor and the past you share, but she’s been wanting to at least have something normal again, maybe make the tension lighter. there’s still a part of her that resents you, but you were both fourteen then—things have changed.

(for the better, hanni hopes.)

–

you feel a tap on your shoulder as you walk down the hallway. your mind is blank until you take your earbuds out, and then you turn around, tilt your head down, and meet hanni.

“hi.”

“hey.”

the two of you stand there awkwardly, she scratches her pointer finger with her thumb (just like how she did when you two were younger, it seems her habits weren’t grown out of), then hands you her phone.

(“youll scratch your skin off,” you quickly pull her hand towards you, slapping it lightly. “stop that”

“hey! i’m nervous…”

“you’ll be fine hanni.” you assure her, putting your hands on her shoulders. “i know you’ll be, trust me.” she feels your hands cup both cheeks, squishing them subtly.

you’re both twelve, hanni has a microphone in one hand, and her other is restrained by yours. the two of you had practiced for two weeks to prepare for this moment. almost every day, you spent an hour or two in hanni’s room, which was littered with posters of her favorite bands and paintings you had made for her. you would strum your guitar while hanni sang with that pretty voice of hers, the two of you lost in the melody of 'baby I'm yours' by the artic monkeys without a worry about the talent show coming up

but hanni is worrying now, more than you somehow and she’s always been so out there.

your thumbs graze her skin and you look at her with a strange softness in her eyes. hanni still doesn’t know if it was because she was nervous, but in that moment, she felt her cheeks burning.

“your voice is so pretty and you’re pretty and amazing and i know everyone in the crowd would love it and love you! i could listen to you all day hanni, when they hear you they’ll be so amazed.”

“what if i mess up? what if i ruin it for the both of us and-”

you pinch her cheeks and shake your head. “stop. hanni pham i know you, you’ll do great. if you mess up, i’ll mess up with you, alright?”

she purses her lips together, nervousness evident in her eyes. you smile reassuringly at her, and her tension eases as she sees your grin turn toothy. the warmth in your expression gives her the confidence she needs.

“ugh, fine! let’s get it over with… my mom said she’ll drive us to get ice cream after anyway…”

“okay! c’mon, everyone is waiting for hanni pham and her guitarist.”

“you mean my lovely y/n?” twelve year old you didn’t know why that made you so giddy. you rolled your eyes at her and held her hand on the way to the stage.

the memory replays vividly in your mind. everyone's expressions were etched with amazement after hearing hanni sing the first line of the song you two practiced, their smiles widening as hanni dragged you up to sing along with her. this simple act unlocks a core memory: the two of you going home with a special trophy and celebrating with ice cream.

for some reason, you also remember the innocent little kiss on the cheek she gave you before you were dropped off too.)

you’re shaken out of thought after hanni begins again, “i just thought that, um, since we’re partners… you know– we should keep contact.” she swallows lightly before asking, “could i get your number?”

“oh, yeah.” hanni watches you silently type your number in, then send a text to yourself. the buzz (heard only because of how dead silent it is in the hall) is faint, but indicates that you haven’t faked her out. “i’ll text you later, i have practice soon.”

“oh yeah, practice, yeah. basketball.” you force yourself not to smile as she responds. “yes, you have fun with that, sorry, yeah. i’ll text you? i can look over some stuff and you can branch off.”

“that sounds good, my practice ends at four today, in case you needed to know.”

“yeah, okay, yup.” she says, “i’ll get going, sorry.”

“don’t be,” you assure. she watches you open your mouth, hesitate, then add quietly, “ever.”

—

[xxx xxx xx09] 4:30pm hi! this is hanni are you free tomorrow? i searched up some topics but wanted to go over it with you if you don’t mind of course!

[y/n] 5:02pm sorry, i stayed after to help clean and practice i can meet you after practice? i should be completely done no later than four

[hanni] 5:03pm that’s fine!

hanni cringes as she hits send. she thinks to herself: too much energy?

[hanni] 5:03pm minji’s bakery isn’t too far, it has good ambience and wifi is that okay?

[y/n] 5:28pm that’s fine

[hanni] 5:28pm great! see you then

embarrassingly enough, hanni continues to check her phone for a response, but each time she gets the same thing: nothing. it isn’t until three hours pass that she finally sees you’ve left her on read.

she huffs.

she feels stupid, considering you left her in the dust, then came back with no warning, and yet, all of that doesn’t sting as much as getting left on read. it’s silly, hanni thinks, but you couldn’t have sent something back? or at least reacted to her message? she groans in frustration and tries to focus on reviewing her chemistry notes, but thoughts of you keep interrupting her concentration.

–

you find hanni seated near the window, her back facing you, and you spot a latte beside her laptop. the kim's bakery isn’t too busy right now, thankfully, so it’s not a hassle or long wait to buy a small americano before you meet up with her.

hanni’s head perks up cutely when you sit down in front of her.

“oh, you’re here. you should’ve texted me.”

“sorry.” you begin to unpack your bags. “i got lost in thought on the way.” you don’t mention what you had been thinking of exactly, because that will only strengthen the elephant in the room.

“right, yeah, okay.” another moment of silence passes before hanni lights up. “ah! the ideas, yeah, hold on. i shared a doc with you, i hope you got it.”

“i was looking at it on the way here.”

“mhm, so what do you think?”

“i think a lot of them are pretty popular, i feel like jake and his little group will end up doing something about trash in the environment since it’s simple. i think the water quality one is good though, what about you?”

hanni nods. “i mean yeah, i was pushing the trash ones to the side. i wanted to do endangered species and really just anything regarding animals, but danielle and minji were already looking at it as soon as they had the chance. my second option was the water quality.”

“we’re on the same track, that’s good.” you sip on your coffee. “let’s research water quality then? maybe in the area for now.”

“yeah, that’s good.”

nothing else is said, nothing else needs to be said before you two get to work. there’s the occasional glance when one doesn’t think the other is looking, the small sips of coffee, and all of it is so distracting – each breath, unspoken words, really just whatever hangs in between the two of you. she lets you press a key one more time before breathing in.

“how have you been?”

you almost choke. “what?”

“how have… you been…?” her brows turn up as she clarifies.

“good.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah.”

hanni wants to pack up her bag, throw it at the window so the glass shatters, and escape the feeling that overwhelms her. “how was korea?”

you poke the inside of your bottom lip. “exhausting… i missed it here.”

“yeah, it’s great here.”

“yeah.”

“what about you?” you ask, and for some reason, you don’t really want to know the answer. you’re unsure if your heart can take it.

“me?” she tilts her head, then coughs. “oh, yeah, me. um, i’ve been you know… alright.”

i’m so sorry. you want to say it, but can’t bring yourself to. there’s a grudge you’re holding, you can’t seem to loosen up and let go. plus, you don’t trust yourself not to break down.

“is student government any fun?”

“sometimes, that’s until we have to do real stuff.”

“didn’t you… sign yourself up?”

“it’s to make my record look good, i was never good at sports like you.” she sighs as she leans against her chair. “i don’t even have the height for it.”

you fail to hold back a snicker, hanni pushes out her bottom lip in response.

(“y/n it’s too high.”

“that doesn’t matter, i’m like, three centimeters taller! just steady the ball and push out your hand.”

hanni sighs, staring at you like you’re an idiot. in this memory, you're both twelve, all battered up from running around all day. somehow, you’ve convinced her to spend time with you at the school’s courts.

the hoops are short enough for primary school kids, but still too tall for hanni. you’d tease her for not catching up to the others as you grew, and she’d respond with a punch to your shoulder each time. despite your relentless teasing, she’d always spend time with you on the court because she loved you more than her other friends. honestly, there was no other friend that compared to you at the time.

you step behind her and fix her form, adjusting her hands with yours. she gets all nervous and almost elbows you, trying to cover it by yelling at you, “that tickles!” but what really tickled – or at least made her feel all weird and tingly in a similar way – was the turn in her stomach.)

“i mean, you’ve grown.”

“you’ve grown. how tall are you even?”

“i don’t know… like, more than 170? something tall.”

“don’t boast.” hanni groans.

you chuckle. “don’t be jealous?”

the bickering is the same, but bittersweet. you two laugh until it’s a little too strange to laugh, the feeling in the air shifts again, you wish it’d stay at a constant of something nearing neutral or comfortable for more than a minute.

looking out the window, you spot an elderly couple strolling past. you begin again, “it’s good to see you again.”

“is it?” hanni questions, tone laced with genuine surprise and a small hint of disbelief, some bitterness too. “it’s a surprise to see you here.”

“school life there wasn’t too nice to me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.” you take another sip of your coffee. “at least they had good coffee near the campus.”

hanni just giggles, what else can she do? her smile dies down as she continues to get to work, and you look at her through your lashes before doing the same.

little do you know, minji observes the conversation from afar. she stands behind the espresso machine, watching you and hanni smile at each other and laugh occasionally. unaware of the tension, your past, or any details, she notices a strange chemistry between you two. the more minji watches, even as you both study, the more she considers that you might look better as something more than just friends.

maybe that’s why you two had been so timid and distant, minji predicts that it’s a mutual attraction that has you two nervous to talk to each other.

minji conjures up little scenarios and possibilities in her head. maybe you had seen hanni for the first time and been so starstruck by her; after all, many people have fallen for her sweet and outgoing nature, not to mention she’s prettier than most. or perhaps hanni had been in awe after seeing you on the court, and minji couldn’t deny that you were easy on the eyes (even minji caught herself looking at you sometimes, but out of admiration). plus, you had a mysterious quality at times—a trait that a lot of people find alluring. both you and hanni have people turning heads, so it wouldn’t be impossible.

hyein would love the sound of this. one corner of her lips turn up as she thinks about the underclassman.

maybe it was love at first (after a long time) sight, or maybe you had a meet-ugly? the possibilities swirl in minji’s mind as she observes the interactions between you and hanni, wondering about the nature of your relationship and what could potentially blossom between you two.

she shakes her head, hiding behind the espresso machine again when she notices you packing up. you send hanni a sweet smile and start to walk in minji’s direction. the older girl pretends to be busy cleaning something up, and thankfully, you don’t notice her presence as you leave.

[senior citizens and the caretaker]

[minji] hanni

[hanni] ??? i can see you from where i’m at

[minji] you were with y/n? surprising

[hanni] we started researching topics we literally?? are in the same class?? w the same project?? and r partners??

[minji] right… and giggling and laughing and… yk

[hanni] are you crazy u r so delusional

[hyein] hanni and y/n??? proof or it didn’t happen

[minji] attachment: 1 image

hanni’s eyes widen when she sees a picture of her and you (zoomed in and botched quaility) smiling at each other. the shorter girl walks over to where minji is immediately, pointing to her screen and confusingly (angrily) asking,

“the hell is this?”

“that’s what im trying to figure out.”

“bro, you’re so weird.” hanni sighs, then looks at the picture again. you have a cute smile – she tries not to think of that too much. “what the hell would y/n think if she sees this?”

“we’re friends too, you know?”

“yeah but–” her phone buzzes in her hand, cutting her off.

[haerin] study date?

[hanni] ABSOLUTELYnot. stop DONT ENCOURAGE HER?? kim minji lock your doors.

[danielle] oh wow, she has a pretty smile!

i know. hanni wants to agree, but minji wouldn’t let it go.

[hanni] you guys r so weird omfg anyway, how is your project going?

[hyein] dont change the topic hanni… wuuaahh im so jealous…

[hanni] girl shut up you're like twelve and don’t be

[hyein] you said you already knew her before? what happened

[hanni] it’s not important gtg

minji looks up from her phone. “and where are you going?”

“home,” hanni mutters, making the older smirk. “away from you at least, and i have to redo my notes for mr. ahn."

“right.”

“i hope your bread molds.” hanni says on the way out, closing the door. seconds later she opens it again, peeking her head through. “i was kidding, by the way. bring me the sweet milk bread tomorrow? thanks love you!”

the older girl rolls her eyes and laughs, going back to her phone to stare at the picture.

minji has nothing better to do, so maybe pushing you two closer wouldn’t be too bad.

–

you’re so close to dozing off in history, head almost falling off your palm. the class being a requirement is so pointless in your opinion, considering you go over slideshows, take a test, and write a few short responses. rinse and repeat for the whole year – is it really that significant?

with your upcoming game clouding your mind, plus the draining practices, it only makes you drowsier. your eyes feel heavy, your blinking gets slower, and you’re just so done with the class in general.

minji leans her shoulder against you, nudging you awake.

“h-huh…” you mumble sleepily, making the older laugh. “what?” she nudges you again, making you groan. “man what the fuck do you want?”

“you and hanni.” she raises her brows, unfazed by the anger in your tone. “how’s the project coming along?”

“oh,” you rub your eyes. “we’ve got some good ideas. i think we’re meeting again later.”

“do you like being around her?” you face minji and now she’s looking at you weirdly. “i saw you guys getting along.”

“did you? were you spying on us?” you ask teasingly, nudging her back. “weirdo… but i mean yeah shes… chill.”

“you guys look good together.”

the way it sounds coming from minji makes you freeze. “what?” you croaked, the response coming out dry and scratchy. you dismiss her with your hand and try to conceal the weird warmth in your cheeks. “what even… where did that even come from.”

“i was taking some orders and saw you two, looks like you both enjoyed each others company.”

“fucking spy…”

yeah, enjoyed running around the big problem you two had in between, that’s for sure. minji’s just oblivious, she hadn’t even heard the conversation or anything, so it shouldn’t get to you. but still, it does. hanni’s pretty, like out-of-this-world-flowers-and-sunlight pretty, and you’ve never really looked at yourself so highly. hanni’s always been out of your league since you first felt tingly around her at the ripe age of ten, it’s really a miracle that she even considered befriending you prior to that.

you set your head on your folded arms and close your eyes. “she’s nice, maybe we’ll be good friends or something. don’t get it mixed up.”

–

hanni watches intently, her eyes glued to how you handle the ball. you dribble past two of your teammates with ease, your movements fluid and precise. for a fleeting moment, your features light up with hope as you take the shot, but they quickly shift into frustration when the ball misses the hoop. she notices you bite the inside of your cheek, a sign of your evident irritation, as you curse softly at yourself.

“take your time y/n, don’t rush.” the coach suggests, you look at him for a split second, your features don’t shift a bit. he claps his hands, then nods. “right, practice over, you know the drill.”

hanni senses disappointment from your expression. she notices the way your jaw tightens, how your fingers ball into a tight fist before you crack them one by one – like how you did years ago. you stare at the ground for at least five seconds, lost in thought, before heading over to yunjin to run with her. as you start moving, the tension in your posture seems to wash away.

she waits until you finish, stealing glances at you from the bleachers. her eyes frequently drift away from her laptop to admire you. hanni has no clue what happened while you were away, but it’s frustrating that you manage to catch her eye so easily. your mannerisms are effortlessly attractive, your poise commanding, and everything about you seems to draw her in.

when you’re finished and headed back to change, she waits outside the gym for you. in a few minutes, you’re met with her, but with stress apparent in your expression.

“y/n, hey.”

“what do you want?” hanni is taken aback by the slight aggression. you cough, biting down on your teeth and retrying. “i– i mean, hi, hey. what’s up?”

“oh, i just worked on the project a bit more, you know, since mr. wei gave us more information i got us a head start. everything is on the doc, yeah.”

“did you stay after to tell me this? you could’ve gone home.”

“i had to do things for student gov, i only waited a few minutes for you, it’s nothing. i watched the end of your practice.”

“you what?” you look offended, almost. turning to the side, you poke the inside of your cheek, then look back at her. “why the hell did you waste your time doing that?”

“hey i– i just, i don��t know? why are you so angry?”

you have no clue why. maybe it’s the lack of sleep and sore feeling in every muscle in your body. you’ve been so tense the past week because of districts, and plus, your performance has been worse. the fact that hanni had seen you perform so poorly makes your blood boil a bit, but you shouldn't be mad. still, you are. shaking your head, you grip your bag tighter, knuckles whitening with the tension. the frustration of your last missed shot and fumbled passes throughout the last few practices sits heavy on your shoulders, mingling with your high standards and (self-imposed) pressure to excel.

hanni’s presence, witnessing your every mistake, feels like salt in a wound, intensifying your disappointment and how pissed you are in the moment.

she looks at you, narrowing her eyes. “are you okay?”

“it’s nothing.”

“don’t lie in my face,” her tone almost makes you flinch. she steps closer. “what’s going on?”

“hanni, it’s nothing. don’t worry, it’s not your problem so don’t try to make it yours.” you say through gritted teeth.

(you open the door to see hanni, tilting your head when you do. she’s standing there with a frown, looking at you with worry.

“what’s going on?”

“why are you here?”

“you haven’t texted in the past week, and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“it’s nothing.”

“don’t lie to me, we’ve known each other since first grade.”

“why do you even care? just let me be.”

hanni’s noticed your distance, and she’s tried so hard to pry, but you’ve always been able to dodge her like a bullet. you barely have a smile on your face these days. after school, instead of hanging out with her friend group or even with her alone, you’re always at the court or cooped up studying at home. it frustrates her because she knows you don’t even need to study; eighth grade material is a breeze for you.

the distance is palpable, a barrier she can’t seem to break through no matter how hard she tries. she misses the easy laughter, the way you used to light up around her, your stupid jokes; she misses you. now, it’s like you’ve built an invisible wall, and she can’t find a way to scale it.

“y/n, i miss you. please talk to me, we’ve always talked about things.”

you can’t possibly talk to her, not when you know what you feel is stupid, almost humiliating. how could you spill the fact that you’re jealous she’s spending less time with you, that she’s getting too pretty and lovely? you can't just admit that maybe being friends with her is becoming too hard. there are so many things you want to do with her, so many things you want to tell her that can’t be put into words. you can’t share that your heart beats faster whenever she’s near, or that she’s been on your mind so often lately. you just can’t.

“i can’t. look, i’m busy. i’ll see you tomorrow.”)

she scoffs, looking at you almost angrily. “we’re not fourteen anymore. stop carrying so much – you’ll explode.”

“you don’t know shit.” the words slip out, taking both you and hanni by surprise. you can’t stand to see her after saying it, so you give her a brief glance, letting her catch the regret in your features before exhaling sharply. “i– i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“y/n–” she breathes out, her voice softer now, almost pleading.

you look down as you walk away, too repentant to look back. each step feels heavier, burdened by the weight of the words you wish you could take back. you wish you could take back a lot, rewind time and restart. you’re vulnerable, some things fail to change.

–

“so, what happened? your text made me shiver.” danielle says, sitting down on the floor next to minji.

their whole friend group has grouped up at hanni’s place, specifically her bedroom because of a sudden “my house. please. quick.” text. they all gather around her, worried and curious.

hanni leans her head against her bed frame, sighing. “y/n and i kind of had an argument. well, she scolded me, that’s more like how it went down.”

“so she got mad at you? what happened? you guys aren’t even that close, so what’s this all about.”

taking a deep breathe in, hanni lets many suppressed memories fade into vision. “i told you guys i knew her before this, like years ago.” she watches her friends nod. “well, we kind of… i mean, we fell off. i don’t know the full reason why, but we had this huge thing.” she pauses her story, reaching under her bed and pulling out an old shoebox.

opening it, hanni shows the group tucked away memories. there are polaroids and childhood pictures, letters, photobooth strips, and knick knacks the two of you had crafted.

haerin gazes at the contents, then pulls out a polaroid and looks at it intensely.

“anyways,” hanni continues, “i mean, i tried to push it aside because i guess it was a while ago and it’s just an elephant in the room between just the two of us. plus, i figured we had changed and grown, but–” hanni groans defeatedly. “i don’t know! i feel like i shouldn’t let it get to me but–”

“okay but what exactly happened?” minji butts in, lost in hanni’s ramble. “details. she scolded you, you two know each other, what else?”

“where do i even start…”

hanni takes a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with the intensity of the memories she is about to share. she begins, her voice steady but laced with nostalgia. "you know, we met when we were just kids. i was new and had zero friends. she was alone too, and i asked her to join me on the monkey bars. i remember being in awe when she made it all the way across and back at the age of six. and since then we were basically inseparable."

her friends listen closely, captivated by the story. hanni’s tone becomes softer as she continues. "y/n was the sweetest person i knew. she was a special friend, you know? i mean we were only kids but i still thought of her a lot even after the whole… thing. i mean, we spent so much time together, just the two of us. i remember those niche, core memories, like when the sun would set and we’d find ourselves tanned and still at the playground. everyday i woke up excited to spend time with her, i can basically remember her being there most of my childhood."

she pauses, her eyes glazing over as she recalls the fondness of those days. "there are so many moments filled with her that defined myself growing up. i feel stupid, really, looking back on childhood memories. like, i should let go right? but every memory made me really happy, and i wonder what it would’ve been like if we had stayed strong until now. i think about it so much now that she’s back, and i thought i had gotten over it. i’m so mature now but it’s like… like a thorn i can’t take out my skin. maybe a scar that can’t heal, that’s a better metaphor.”

her expression shifts, the weight of the past evident on her face. "but then things changed. as we grew older, especially in middle school, y/n started to become distant. i branched out, made new friends, and she... she grew bitter about i i guess? what we had was so different. we were literally attached by the hip and then barely spoke.”

the emotion in hanni’s voice is palpable, her gestures and facial expressions reflecting the heaviness of her heart. she looks at her friends, all listening closely and looking hurt themselves. "we just fell apart. she changed in a way that didn’t benefit either of us. it was like she built a wall around herself, and i couldn’t knock it down.”

her friends sit in silence, absorbing the depth of the story. hanni’s explanation is more than just words; it’s a raw, emotional journey through the ups and downs of a friendship that had meant everything to her, even if it had ended at fourteen.

“and before i knew it she just left.” she adds, thumb scratching her skin. danielle puts a hand over her mouth, looking the most hurt out of the group. “she came to my house one day and said she’d fucking? leave? the day after? a continent away? it’s like she didn’t care about what we had between us.”

“oh hanni, that’s terrible.”

“i know.” hanni picks up a photobooth slip, her shoulders drooping. “i know.”

“how did you put up with her coming back?” hyein questions. hanni sets the picture down, looking down at it from where she sits, still. “as soon as i saw her it’s like everything that had happened to me washed away. i was so fucking out of it – seeing her. she’s so different, like, it caught me off guard and i just pushed aside everything.” hanni starts to blush suddenly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “this is so stupid but, i had a little stupid crush on her growing up too, and then seeing her after so long it just… it’s so stupid. she’s striking now, i can’t believe it. but she was so eager to avoid me when she first saw me so i just… let it be.”

minji hums to herself, thinking deeply on the topic. she scratches her chin as she stares at the photos on the ground. “you guys can’t avoid it forever.”

“i know.” hanni repeats. “i kind of… ugh. we got in this argument because she was being so aggressive and mean all of a sudden, i mentioned that she shouldn’t bottle up things like when she was thirteen. i guess the guilt crashed down on her, she just left. she looked really regretful, i don’t know. i just, i don’t want the tension to be worse than it already is.”

minji raises her brows at hanni. “i think you deserve an apology and explanation.”

“i agree.” danielle chimes in, crossing her arms and pouting. “she’s really nice and sweet, but hanni, hearing what she did? my gosh… that’s just…”

“she probably had her reasons though, it had to be really important for our friendship to literally fall apart. i’m considering that our past kind of has something to do with how she just went all out on me earlier.”

haerin sits quietly, deep in thought about hanni, you, and the situation. she’s always been the quiet one, so she’s really observant and caring nature. plus, she’s usually right. she’s seen hanni’s growing attention and concern for you, but she realizes the timing is off. you’re so caught up in your own head, weighed down by the pressure of districts, and it’s affecting your performance. the stress is becoming a vicious cycle, making you play worse, which only adds to your anxiety. haerin clicks her tongue softly as she pieces it all together, understanding the root of the issue.

“i don’t know why she did that to you when you guys were younger.” haerin begins. the rest of the group looks at her in surprise, but starts to listen immediately. “but i think she was so heated earlier because of districts. coach has been pushing her, she’s been more tired. i don’t think she meant it, she’s a good person.”

“oh.” hanni responds blankly, starting to piece it together.

haerin nods. “she hasn’t really been talking to anyone, and she seems tired these days.”

minji nods along too. “she almost fell asleep in history in her hand, she could just be cranky.”

“i mean maybe–” hanni pauses when her phone on the floor lights up. she glances at the contact and gasps, picking it up. “it’s her.”

“what?”

“what does it say?” hyein asks, quickling leaning against the older girl in order to see the messages.

[y/n] sorry can we meet in ten? at kims i want to clear things, if that’s okay i don’t want my project partner upset i’ll be waiting. if you don’t come i understand

hanni sighs, staring at the words on her screen like they’re going to pop out the phone and slap her in the face (or something like that). she shows the rest of the group the texts and haerin is the first to respond.

“go see her.”

“you sure? i don’t know she just–”

“hanni,” haerin looks at her seriously. “don’t make the space in between you two larger.”

the group looks at haerin, considering she’s the second youngest, it’s really impressive that her words hold so much power and weight. hanni hesitates before nodding, starting to type.

–

[hanni] where are you?

your phone buzzes in your hand immediately and you rush to check it, feeling relief wash over when you notice that it’s hanni, and especially when you realize she’s here.

[y/n] i’m not inside side of the building near the lamppost

[hanni] k

you wince at the singular letter, she’s going to rip your head off.

hanni emerges from the side, spotting you tapping your foot up and down and fidgeting with your fingers. she feels like a wet rag being slowly wrung out, her anger dissipating as she takes in your appearance. you’re wrapped in a hoodie and sweatpants, both sitting loosely on you, and your nose is tinted red from the chill of the night. she feels a pang of empathy, her frustration melting away in the face of your vulnerability.

she steps towards you, you perk your head up and sigh out in relief.

“you’re here.”

“i am.”

the two of you stare at each other for a moment, the silence heavy with unspoken words. you use the time to compose yourself, clearing your deafening thoughts. hanni, meanwhile, takes in your features, admiring silently with an unreadable expression on her face.

“i wanted to clear some things and apologize. not just for earlier but, just– you know.”

“is that so?”

“let’s take a walk, please?”

the two of you would always take walks to clear the air back then, strolling to the outskirts of the neighborhood and back so you could drop one of the other off. those late-night walks used to be calm and relieving, filled with laughter and conversations under the streetlights. now, as you stand before each other, the thought of it feels nerve-racking and unpredictable, weighed down by the tension and the distance that has grown between you.

you sigh, handing her a small bag and the drink in your hand. “i also bought you some things, it’s the least i could do.”

she takes the bag from your hand and looks inside, fighting back a smile when she notices her favorite milk bread inside. plus, the latte you had given her looks like her favorite.

“okay, where are we headed?”

“you’ll see.”

the two of you walk in silence, your rehearsed words stuck in your throat, twisting on your tongue whenever they try to escape. you don't look at her, focusing instead on the ground beneath your feet. hanni doesn't push you, occupied with taking bites and sips from what you bought her.

every now and then, she turns her head toward you. sometimes, she catches you already glancing at her, quickly looking away when your eyes meet. other times, she sees you staring intently at the ground, lost in your thoughts.

putting your hands in your pockets, you start to speak, “i’m the reason there’s a rift between us.”

“yeah, i know.”

“and there’s a reason, but it’s really… personal, kind of. i want to tell you but i really can’t.”

“is that so?”

“yeah.” you breathe out, kicking a rock as you do. “but the most i can do is apologize – for everything I can apologize about. i was so petty back then, i was jealous of your friends sometimes and there were a few times you had already made plans with them and i asked you to hang and you couldn’t and it’s so stupid and i was immature and mad at you for that and i just–”

“y/n, take it slow.”

you gulp. “okay.” she watches you stare ahead and sigh. “i was so insecure and stupid, it resulted in me losing the person i loved most. the worst part of all is that you fought to keep me in your life, and i just ripped myself off you like a leech stuck to your skin. i always cared about you, i still do, there’s nothing that could change that. i knew my actions were hurting you and instead of fixing myself, i thought i knew what was best for you at fourteen and it just… i just hurt you even more.”

“you did.”

“i know.” you look at her for the first time, meeting her eyes dead on. she notices the upturn in your brows, the sincerity in your gaze and tone. “and i’m sorry. i’m sorry for everything. i just want us to be friends again. i can’t lose you now that you’re back in my life. i just want what we had again.”

the words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. your heart races as you wait for her response, hoping she feels the same.

both of your legs continue to carry you down the sidewalk until hanni stops. you halt a step after her, noticing the contemplation on her face. she glances down at her empty bag, then back up at you. her eyes scan your face with an intensity that makes your heart race. you look like a lost puppy, and though it tugs at her heart, she tries to push those feelings aside for now.

your words had pierced her heart, the pain sharp and immediate, but there was also a sense of relief. knowing you don’t hate her makes a difference. she feels the same way; despite the hurt you’ve caused, the effort you’re making to repair your bond warms her heart.

“i do too. i wanted to talk to you again, normally, for a while now.”

“me too, but i hurt you and i felt so guilty.”

“well,” hanni reaches for your hand, holding it in hers. “let’s try our best to start over then, as friends.”

“thank you. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, the bread and latte made up for like, thirty percent of it.”

she’s always been good at lifting the mood. you laugh and she giggles too. “if i buy you a few more, would that raise it?”

“how many more and how often are we talking?”

–

the next two weeks go well, thankfully.

you and hanni spend a significant amount of time together working on the project, each of you discovering different methods to measure water quality with limited equipment and determining the most efficient techniques. as you collaborate, you catch up on lost time, though you remain cautious about revealing too much about yourself. your time abroad had been… rough, and you prefer to keep those memories to yourself. however, it's comforting to hear about hanni's accomplishments, knowing she's built a strong reputation and has many friends that are just as wonderful as her.

often, you find yourself smiling at hanni like you used to. it's a familiar yet unsettling feeling, but you refuse to let it consume you. despite how her smile, voice, and energy make you blush and feel a pleasant dizziness, you resist falling into the same spiral from years ago. you push those feelings down, determined to stay focused on the present. you can’t let it ruin the two of you again.

besides, you've just had your first district game and it went well. the scores were tight, but you and your team pulled through, boosting your confidence. you can’t let hanni pham's charm shake you up; there's too much on your shoulders—the project, your teammates, and your relationship with her. balancing all of this feels like walking a tightrope, but you’re determined not to fall (again).

hanni, on the other hand, feels like she’s on cloud nine.

you’re still as adorable as ever, still considerate. after your study sessions and project work days, you always offer to spend time with hanni at different bakeries so she can try various breads. you jokingly mention that you’re in debt to her for a lifetime, and in a way, you are – at least until you find the right time to explain why you drifted apart in detail. for now, bread seems to suffice in keeping her from prying too deeply into your past, which feels too serious to delve into casually.

it doesn’t help that hanni has been attending your practices and games, where she takes the time to admire your athletic abilities—and, if she’s honest with herself, you as a whole. she wonders what you went through that made you come back looking even more striking than before (and hotter too, though she tries to keep herself sane).

unfortunately for hanni, her feelings aren’t as discreet as she would like. hyein and minji are quick to notice her lingering glances and teasingly nudge her about her apparent crush on you. they often bring up her past confessions about having a small crush on you back then, though she always brushes it off with a laugh.

“stop, it’s not like that. besides, she’s too busy, it wouldn’t work out.”

hyein whines, grabbing onto hanni’s shoulder. “come oooonnnnn, you want her.”

“yeah when i was like 12-13, and plus, it was so small. i was literally a child.” hanni is lying, she’d look at you like you were the northern lights (something like that), you and her were like two leads in a disney movie. “we’re friends.”

“a friend that you’ve had a crush on?” minji smirks and hanni punches her shoulder. “okay…”

“can you guys shut up! she doesn’t want me.”

“she buys you bread and drinks.”

“she just feels bad!”

“well i guess we’ll see how bad she feels when we go on that trip.”

fuck. hanni thinks. fuck.

another part of your stupid (yet interesting) project was the fact that you would be thrown into a nature reservation for three days. it was another unexpected twist in your project—being thrown into a nature reserve for three days. mr. wei had dropped the bombshell less than a week before the trip, leaving everyone bewildered. he mentioned it casually, emphasizing its importance for the project, and clarified that each pair would share a room during the stay. the suddenness of it all added an air of anticipation and nervous excitement among the students, but it left you and hanni stiff in your seats.

hanni. sharing a room. with you. (y/n). (y/n). in the same. space. as. hanni. hanni.

hanni sits with minji and hyein, trying to ignore their knowing looks as she watches you from across the lunchroom. you're smiling amidst the laughter at your table, looking at the team like they’re idiots. suddenly, you turn your head and lock eyes with hanni. there's a pause as you both acknowledge each other, and then hanni awkwardly smiles, which earns a giggle from you.

caught in that moment, hanni wonders if she can handle being trapped in a room with you if you ever end up giggling like that up close and personal. she doesn’t know if she can handle you up close and personal.

–

you, are up close and personal and hanni somehow manages.

hanni is taken aback when your head leans onto her shoulder during the train ride to the nature reserve. your breathing deepens, and you seem completely at ease, while she tries to maintain composure despite the unexpected closeness. she finds herself conflicted; on one hand, you look delicate and serene with strands of hair falling over your face, making her contemplate whether to brush them away or let them be.

the realization hits her anew that you're definitely the prettiest girl she knows, a title she's only recently come to acknowledge. unsure of how to handle the situation, hanni slips in her earbud, turning up the volume of the song playing to drown out her racing thoughts.

–

if things haven’t already made hanni at risk of having some type of heart attack, then finding the hotel room and unlocking the door to see one bed definitely makes her prone to some sort of cardiovascular catastrophe.

you feel yourself go tense, freezing in place as you realize the same thing.

“there’s one bed.”

hanni looks at you like you’re an idiot. “no shit.”

“is there a mistake?” you check the hotel room number and look at the key in your hand. “it has to be…”

“let me ask the others, you stay here.” hanni says before leaving the room. you look at her with a tilted head, but shake it off, instead opting to look out the window in awe at the view. hanni fishes out her phone and dials minji. the phone rings for a moment before minji picks up, she hums and hanni speaks again, “hey, what room are you in?”

“722, you?”

“610, stay, i’m coming over.”

“what?”

“be there soon.”

minji attempts to respond, but hanni hangs up. she makes a weird sound that has danielle looking at her confused, minji just shrugs.

a few minutes later, the pair hears a knock at the door. minji walks over, expecting hanni, and standing out her door is – hanni.

“how many beds do you have?” she asks quickly, stepping inside.

“what happened to hey? hello? how are you?”

hanni ignores her remarks, too distracted by the fact that there’s two beds in minji’s room.

“fuck me.” hanni whispers, then puts a hand in her hair, gripping it. “oh my fucking god.”

“hanni what–”

danielle steps out the bathroom after hearing the commotion. she looks at minji, who looks back at her with the same confusion in her features. “what’s the problem hanni?”

“our room only has one bed.”

minji widens her eyes. “you’re telling me you and y/n are–”

“there has to be a mistake.” hanni groans, “it can’t be.”

the shortest in the room flops onto one bed, sighing as she stares up at the ceiling. both of her friends walk over and sit beside her, amused and worried at how she’s acting.

“hey! it’s not too bad. maybe you can talk to them and ask for a room with two beds! don’t worry, it’s not the end of the world.”

minji puts a hand up, waving it to dismiss danielle. she looks back down at hanni and shakes her head. “hanni doesn’t want to.”

“why wouldn’t she?”

“hanni, you wanna tell danielle?”

the youngest raises a brow. “tell me what?”

“enough minji, it’s– it’s not– well…” hanni groans, turning over on her side. “what if things get awkward between the two of us?”

“well, that’s only if something… you know, happens. you’re thinking so far ahead.”

“what if she’s uncomfy?”

minji sighs again. “she’s not, don’t be stupid.”

“i’m still confused.” danielle says in between. “what is going on?”

minji looks down at the defeated hanni, then to danielle. “hanni is in denial about being in love with y/n.”

“i thought that was in the past.”

“well it’s back.” hanni mumbles. “what if i shrivel up and die.”

“don’t be stupid.”

“hey, haerin did mention that y/n talks about you often. from what she’s told me y/n is comfortable with you, very comfy. there’s nothing to worry about.” hanni’s phone buzzes and danielle helps her out, grabbing it out the pocket of her sweatpants for the older girl. she holds the phone up to hanni’s face smushed against the mattress, successfully unlocking it, then checks the message. “it’s from y/n.”

“it is?”

“i knew it was from her as soon as it buzzed.” danielle rolls her eyes, reading the text. “it says ‘where are you?’ ‘are you okay with one bed?’ ‘do dani and minji have one bed?’ ‘i’m fine with just one if you are’”

hanni shoots up. “what.” she leans next to dani to see the screen:

[y/n] where are you? are you okay with one bed? do dani and minji have one bed? i’m fine with just one if you are it’s not that big of a deal unless you’re uncomfy i can ask the hotel managers hello?

hanni grabs the phone and types immediately.

[hanni] hi so sorry i was with dani and minji they have two beds im fine with one if you are! only if you are of course! it’s totally fine if you aren’t though i hope that doesn’t sound weird you get what i mean? sorry

[y/n] i get it one bed then it’ll be fine, i think it’s a queen when will you be back?

minji and danielle watch hanni get off their bed and sprint out the room, then look at each other and giggle. hanni speedwalks down the hall, relying on her senses to not fuck up and make her trip or take a wrong step.

[hanni] i was omw alr soon have you unpacked?

[y/n] no i was waiting for u c u don’t trip and fall

–

“you’re so clingy.” you groan, but still, you willingly let hanni cling onto you like a koala.

the two of you are thirteen and the next day is confirmed to be a snow day, so hanni had sprinted over to your house (begged her parents to drive her over) and basically forced you into having a last minute sleepover. it’s not like you were against it though.

you and hanni had been on the couch watching a disney movie, though you had dozed off halfway through. to be fair, you had already seen rapunzel more times than you could count on one hand, and hanni always made you feel relaxed.

now, she’s in your bed, your legs tangled under the covers, and she’s half on top of you with her arms wrapped around. she hugs tighter after hearing you, giggling into your ear.

“you’re sooo warm though, i don’t want to move.” the moment she says that, something shifts. you suddenly burn, it feels like something is swallowing you whole and your stomach is doing flips and your heart is running a marathon and– “i could stay like this forever.”

“oh,” you mumble. your hand finds its way to her shoulder, deciding to settle there and occasionally your thumb traces circles on her. “okay.”

you've never been this close to hanni before, not like this. thirteen and oblivious, you're caught in a whirlwind of changing emotions. her presence next to you makes your head spin, even though you're just lying there together. it's a sensation you're not sure you like—maybe because you're afraid hanni might feel something different, steadier, while you feel like you could easily topple over. the embarrassment of that thought flushes through you, adding to the confusion of the moment.

–

both of you are stiff lying next to each other, unable to move. the only light in the room is the lamp in the corner and neither of you dare to look at the other.

hanni is on her phone, trying to do anything to ease the tension when there’s a small space in between the two of you. sure, the bed is quite spacious, but in this situation it doesn’t seem like it.

“hey, hanni?” she shivers, your voice is low and hushed. “i’m going to sleep.”

“oh, okay.”

“yeah, night.”

there’s subtle shifts of the blanket and the muffled movements, catching your back turned away from her in her peripheral vision. there's a shared intimacy in the limited space, she’s aware of your efforts not to brush against her. the pillow meant for your head is firmly cradled in your arms, a subconscious barrier. hanni notices this and half-wishes for the same kind of closeness, if she were that pillow.

fuck, she thinks. she wonders whether or not you’re still as warm as before.

–

the next day you and hanni wake up a few centimeters closer, but not enough to be touching. neither of you bask in that mutual realization, instead, focused on getting water samples for the project.

there’s not much directing or instructing. sure, there’s ground rules and whatnot since it’s a literally nature reserve, but there’s a lot of academic freedom regarding research. you and hanni have the green light to collect water samples, but that means trekking through various areas that are… questionable.

both of you start with the easier places to grab samples, such as the small pond near the hotel, the little stream further down the road, and really any place that isn’t shrouded by organisms left and right. both of you take turns getting samples, laughing at the others expression when getting into contact with the water.

“ugh.”

“it’s just water y/n.”

“you made the stupidest face when we were near the hotel and it was literally a cute little pond, do not test me.”

“whatever.”

“besides, you’re next after we go into the little woods.”

hanni curses mentally.

–

being alone together with hanni seems to be less and less suffocating with time.

however, you feel like someone is punching you in the gut each time your knuckles and arms brush against each other walking along the forest trail. hanni doesn’t seem to think much on it, but you? you’re too hyperaware it seems embarrassing.

she runs off farther from you, finding another stream and taking out a small glass bottle to grab another sample. she crouches and reaches down, you can’t help but smile. she looks stupid, she always does, but it only makes her more attractive unfortunately.

“cute.”

“what did you say?” she looks up at you, you’re standing and watching from above. all she can see is you looking away and the tint of pink in your cheeks.

“you look dumb.” you play it off, then grab your phone to snag a picture of her. “yeah, super dumb.”

–

the next sample is a breeze, seeing as it’s some pool of water stuck in a big dent in the rocks along the path.

it’s a breeze just walking and conversing time to time, almost forgetting that this is all for a project.

hanni spots a waterfall in the distance, eyes lighting up at the sight of it. she starts to run off and you yell out a measly “wait!” as she continues on. you groan and run after her, laughing along the way.

you lose her for a moment, a little scared because she’s nowhere in your line of sight. “hanni?” you call out, but she doesn’t respond.

it isn’t until you hear a loud gasp, followed by a painful yelp, that hints at where hanni is at. you follow wherever the sound came from, then climb a few plateaued rocks to find hanni on the ground clutching her ankle.

“hanni! fuck, what happened?”

she looks up at you with a pained expression, then back to her foot. “i tripped on a branch and my ankle twisted weirdly, can you help me up?”

“yeah, sure, of course.” you respond quickly, rushing over to help her up. she’s struggling to apply pressure on her left foot, basically carrying herself with the right one. “can you walk?”

she shrugs, loosening her grip on you as she tries to take a few steps. the wince she lets out after the second step lets you know that she’s in no condition to carry herself like that. “um, kind of.”

“you liar.” you sigh, “how bad does it hurt? do you think it’s sprained?”

“no, i’ve sprained my ankle. it’s not that bad.” you remember when she sprained it too, but push down the memory.

again, you sigh (really because you’re worried). you squat down and suggest, “get on my back.”

“are you crazy?”

“you just twisted your ankle and can’t even walk, are you?”

“i can find a big stick.”

“and i’ll whack you with it if you don’t get on.” hanni scoffs at your response. you look down bashfully, adding quietly, “it’s not like you haven’t piggybacked me before.”

(“we’re almost home.” you assure. hanni tightens her grip around you as you push her up, trying to stabilize yourself.

two eleven year olds and an empty playground meant chasing and chasing until one was out of breathe – or in this case, one had sprained her ankle.

you carried her over to the nearest bench when it happened, examining the growing puffiness on her foot and making a grossed out expression. hanni hit you playfully when you made the face, slightly offended but really just trying to lighten the mood.

“it doesn’t hurt that much, let’s just walk home and my parents can deal with it.”

“um… i’m no doctor but that doesn’t look right.”

“hey!”

“i didn’t mean it like that hanni! it just looks like… i don’t know, like a doctor should see it.”

“well, it’s fine to me.” hanni lets out a heavy sigh, then gets up only to topple over. she almost falls to the ground again, but you manage to catch her and stable her. she tears up when her weight shifts over to the injured ankle, and then frowns when you look at her disapprovingly.

“sit back down hanni, you hurt yourself.” you order her, then help her back to the bench. you crouch down in front of her and squat, turning so hanni can see the side of your face as you tell her, “get on my back.”

“what?”

“i’ll carry you home. you’re not heavy, and plus, you’re short.”

“you’re a bully.”

“get on!” you groan. hanni complies shortly after, wrapping her arms around your neck and feeling your hands stable her. “see? not bad at all. we’ll get home fine.”

hanni is amazed at your strength, but even more at the depth of your care for her. she feels the sweat building up on your skin, but you don’t mention it, not showing a hint of struggle. your unwavering effort almost convinces hanni that everything is alright.)

“y/n, we’re not eleven anymore. i’m not as small and light.”

you click your tongue teasingly, turning so you can see her from your peripheral. “you’re still small, and probably light too. just get on or you’ll fuck up your foot even more.”

she hesitates, but gets on anyway. you stand up easily, just like you did as kids. your hands are under her thighs in order to keep her in place, her arms warp around your neck and her head is on your shoulder. she feels you gulp agaisnt her skin.

“are you okay?” she asks, you just nod. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t, you’re never a problem.”

your response is oddly endearing, shutting hanni up the whole way back.

it’s mainly silent, except for the faint sound of hanni’s breathing reaching your ears. you can’t trust yourself to say anything coherent; your thoughts are a jumbled mess with her this close.

occasionally, she stops trying and lets her chin rest on your shoulder. each time she does, you feel like you might explode, but you never do. hanni has that effect on you; she always has. it makes sense why you strayed away years back. but despite the turmoil, the feeling is so lovely, and the butterflies in your stomach make you yearn for something more.

“we’re almost there.” your endurance is starting to die down and hanni starts to feel heavier. it’s been nearly twenty minutes (give or take), but you’ve been pushing aside the burn in your legs. “you alright?”

“yes.”

“good.”

the first mistake you make is turning to meet her eye to eye, almost slipping in the middle of the trail. she looks at you deeply, making you shrink and shrink until it’s just your beating heart.

“are you alright? you’re not tired?”

“i’m fine. we’re almost there anyway.”

“i owe you so much, sorry for being stupid.”

pursing your lips and turning away, you shake your head slightly. “you don’t owe me anything.”

–

hanni gets treated by the nurse on the reserve while you test the levels of ph in each sample. some of the water from your samples are also observed by the laboratory on the reserve, and you’re attentive to everything the scientists observe and explain.

you return to the nurse right after hanni is done with her examination, her foot is wrapped and there’s a pair of crutches next to her.

“what did the nurse say?”

“she said i’m lucky it’s a minor injury.” hanni begins, looking down at her foot. “and that i should ice it and try to move it around little by little.”

“how long will it take to heal fully?”

“something like a week or so, again, not the worst injury.”

still, you frown. “lucky we got every sample today. the rest of the project doesn’t require much walking.”

“i guess.” she mumbles. “did you get everything through? how are the samples?”

“we can worry about that tomorrow, don’t worry.” she watches you squat down in front of her, turning your head the same way you did before and smiling subtly. “crutches will slow you down, and you’re easy to carry.”

“well thanks ms. mvp.”

“blah blah you like being on my back, admit it.” you push her buttons a little, hearing a “hmph” before she gets on and wraps her arms around your neck. you hold hanni with one hand as you grab her crutches, then manage to stable her with both again.

the whole way back you’re trying not to smile too hard. your cheeks already burn and hanni stays silent as you bring yourselves up to your floor, step inside the room, and set her down on your temporary shared bed.

she watches you set the crutches down against the counter and you watch her flop on her back.

“how is your foot?”

“hurts, but less than before.”

“mhm, you should go shower. do you need help?” you pause, blushing like crazy when you realize the implications. “like, you know, to get there–”

she lets you live and says, “it’s alright, i can hop a few times and get there.”

“if i hear you fall in the shower i’m not going to get you.”

she snickers, getting back up. then looks at you fondly.

“i wont, silly.”

hanni thankfully lives up to her response, and you don't hear any commotion from inside the bathroom. when she emerges, she's in one piece and dressed in her pajamas. limping slightly, she makes her way back to the bed, sitting on the edge and moving her foot around slowly. her brows furrow a bit, but she seems relatively fine. relieved, you head into the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed, trying to shake off the lingering worry.

–

there’s a weird tingly feeling that spreads over hanni when you walk out of the bathroom with wet hair and flushed cheeks from the hot shower. you looked like this last night, and seeing you again makes her wonder how it’d be to see you like that more often.

you walk over with the towel on your shoulders to prevent water dampening your back, and also the brace that she had left in the bathroo. hanni watches you pull a chair over and sit in front of her.

“you forgot something.”

“it feels fine right now,” you watch her shrug, looking at her foot. with an amusing expression, something mixed with “you’re an idiot” and slight worry, you poke the swollen area. “hey!” hanni winces.

“it looks like ten mosquitoes bit your foot, stupid. here, give me your foot.”

“what?”

"oh my god, just–" you mutter, grabbing her foot gently above the ankle and placing it on your knee. hanni watches as you carefully position the ankle brace, threading the end underneath before wrapping it tightly around until it reaches the velcro. your concentration is evident in your scrunched brows and pursed lips, handling her with a tenderness that makes her heart flutter.

when you're done, you poke at the brace and move hanni’s foot around, careful and slow, to check the fit. "there. how does it feel? too tight?" you ask, looking up at her with a mixture of concern and hope.

“no, not at all.” she says, shaking her head.

“try to move it.” hanni does so, feeling minimal pain. “all good?”

“yeah, better than the nurse.”

“right.”

just to make sure, you squeeze around areas of her foot to check the tightness. you look up to see her staring at you intensely, none of you break eye contact until – even as you stand, watching her head tilt up to continue looking at you.

her hair is already dry, it frames her face loosely, you can’t help but brush it out the way. hanni’s lips part subconsciously when your finger accidentally grazes her jawline, trying not to think on it much as you move away to get into bed.

both of you lie there, silent.

hanni is the first to turn towards the middle, and you follow shortly after.

the soft, plump lips catch your attention first. then, you scan all the way up to her nose until it’s just her eyes – her pupils hold you stuck in place.

“you’re so different.” hanni blurts, it’s almost a whisper. “hyein told me about a new girl and i didn’t think it’d be you. i still can’t believe you’re here.”

your body freezes as she pushes hair behind your ear, then relaxes upon hearing her voice again.

“thanks for everything.”

“it’s nothing if its you.”

“really?”

you hum almost immediately.

–

your hand is resting on hers when you wake up. you blink once, twice, and once again before hanni’s smushed cheek comes into full view. you stay still, looking at her as you yawn, trying not to disturb the peaceful moment.

she’s relaxed, her face free of worry as she slumbers. something about her makes you want to trace each and every feature until your finger is mush, until you can make out her face with your eyes covered in a sea of people. you could sit and stare for the rest of the trip.

it’s apparent that your feelings for her would always linger, no matter how close or far you are. no one could forget a face as breathtaking as hers.

–

the next day and the last are spent compiling research together. you and hanni settle into the small, homey café inside the hotel, typing away and considering each other’s suggestions, thoughts, and edits.

you manage to organize all of the data into a visually pleasing graphic by the time everything is done, while hanni handles most of the analysis and explanations on each slide. it takes a long while, but working side by side, with your arms often brushing, makes it less of a hassle.

on the final night, you're helping hanni with her ankle brace again. she enjoys this time because it allows her to stare at you without worrying about you catching her in the act. you’re too concentrated to notice her (or at least that’s what she believes), handling her with care and precision. in truth, you simply enjoy taking care of her, making sure she’s okay.

both of you end up asleep again, side by side, then facing each other.

in the middle of the night, hanni turns away from you, facing the edge of the bed. unbeknownst to you, in your sleep, you reach out, craving her presence even while unconscious. your arm drapes over her, pulling her closer. hanni stirs slightly, just barely awake, and realizes it’s you. sleepily, she turns back to face you, finding warmth and comfort in your embrace.

if there’s any questioning in the morning, hanni has a backup plan. she'll claim she didn’t realize she had been clinging onto you until she woke up and that she’s used to hugging a pillow.

(these days, she wishes that pillow were you.)

(you don’t mind being the pillow.)

–

“okay. you have everything, right?”

it’s eight in the morning and the bus leaves at nine. your bag is packed already, and so is hanni’s.

“mhm.”

“great.” you say before tucking your charger away in the front pocket of your backpack.

turning your head over, you notice hanni sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. the view is perfect, you spent a lot of time looking outside when the sky was pretty, but not enough you realize – now that you’re about to go back near the city.

you walk over to sit next to her, leaving little space in between the two of you.

hanni moves her foot in a small circle, probably without knowing since she looks so focused on the view in front of her.

“does your ankle feel better?”

“yeah, because of you.” she turns her head to face you, the distance between both of you grows smaller. hanni slides herself closer. “i really liked spending time with you here.”

“me too.”

her breath hitches. “i wish we could’ve had more time outside.”

“its fine.” you hesitate before reaching out to move her outgrown bangs away from her eye. “you should trim your bangs.”

“mhm.” hanni isn’t really listening, not when your hand is under her jaw.

you lean closer, noses nearly touching. hanni's eyes flutter shut, and you hesitate, your lips just a breath away from hers. her fingers nervously play with the neckline of your t-shirt, a silent invitation. with that small gesture, you tilt your head a little more and close the distance, your lips finally meeting hers.

it’s delicate at first, short and swift. the two of you part a few millimeters away before you kiss her again, each kiss growing longer and more comfortable. it feels right, perfect – all of it. her hand slides up to your collarbone and rests at the base of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. hanni hums softly into the kiss, her nails pressing subtly into your skin.

it feels like you’re on cloud nine.

the two of you part after a few more slow kisses, for real this time, now able to see the effect you have on each other.

your cheeks are bloodshot, and hanni’s cheeks mirror yours.

“can i do that again?”

hanni nods, biting her lip slightly.

you lean forward again and kiss her as if its the only thing you’ve ever dreamed of.

what catches you off guard is her putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it as she pushes you back slightly. your lips are still close, and you can feel her hot breath brushing your skin.

“w-wait, y/n.”

“hm? did you not like it? sorry oh my god–” she cuts your worries off with a kiss.

“no, i just–” hanni parts further, you feel your heart sink. she looks down at your lips for a moment. “--i want to keep going but before i can… i’ve been thinking,”

“about?”

“us.”

“how?”

“y/n, you wanted to be friends at first, and so did i. trust me, i really really liked that, like, so much.”

you look at her, confused.

“but this isn’t what friends do, and i want to be more than friends but… i just, i just really need to know why we ever stopped being how we used to. the full reason.”

“what?”

“there was something left out, i guess it felt vague – your apology.”

you can’t believe her, and the fact that the moment was halted because of it makes you a little irritated. “you’re still stuck on that?” the defensive, aggressive tone throws hanni off. “you’re– you’re joking, right?”

hanni pulls away fully now, taking her hands off of you. “why are you getting angry again, you can’t tell me the real reason, is that it?”

“hanni, i just–”

“you gave me an apology, but it wasn’t the full thing. that’s enough to be friends again, but to kiss you and have something beyond being friends… i’d like a full explanation, you know?”

you scoff, shaking your head. “you’re still stuck on it.” you say unbelievably.

“of course i am! i want to know the full reason before we… before this.” she points between the two of you

“i– i can’t hanni.”

“is it that bad?”

“i just, not now, please.” it’s too selfish and humiliating, besides, you’ve already kissed her. an explanation isn’t even necessary.

“you can’t even tell me.” hanni looks at you, a feeling of betrayal seeps into her. “and you expect me to keep kissing you.”

“it’s not relevant! it’s not serious.”

“then tell me! what’s so hard y/n, what is so fucking difficult to confess.”

“i’m not arguing with you hanni, not now.” you sigh, standing up. “we should meet the others downstairs.”

“go on and avoid this like you did years ago, are you going to pop up next week and tell me you’re going abroad again or…?”

you don’t respond, mainly because you don’t trust yourself to say something that’ll keep the fire from bursting and growing. shaking your head, you grab your bag and put it on, looking at her again with a tongue poking the inside of your lip.

“let’s go.”

“go by yourself.”

“hanni, you’re on crutches.”

“go.” she spits, sounding sad, angry, and deceived.

–

you’ve fucked up.

so badly.

hanni steps out of the elevator on her crutches, giving you a brief glance before heading over to minji and danielle. you frown, memories flooding back and making it feel like all the effort to reconnect was for nothing. you still managed to screw everything up.

you know you’re in trouble when she doesn’t let you help her onto the bus, when she stares out the window the whole ride back, and when she starts giving you the same cold treatment you gave her years ago.

after kissing hanni and then feeling rejected by her within the same hour, a heavy weight settles on your chest. you try to talk to her, you really do, but she doesn’t budge or respond, letting you sit with the consequences of your actions alone. the ride back feels like needles slowly, slowly poking into your skin, and you can’t do anything about it.

–

hanni doesn’t leave your mind, even after two weeks of getting back to school, settling into your practices and winning districts – nothing helps the fact that your brain screams hanni hanni hanni.

everytime you see her, you try to talk to her or interact, but she just won’t let it happen.

even minji's exchanges with you are shorter now, more reserved, focusing mainly on school. you feel like you've dug a hole in the ground only to get stuck there, with all your progress leading to a pothole you can’t escape. it doesn’t help that every time you see hanni, you just want to hold her again, take care of her, and offer that same softness and genuine care. but you can't, and she won’t let you.

even after you two present your project together, with hanni complying just enough to give you a temporary moment of interaction, she quickly returns to her reserved self. it’s terrible because she’s still that same hanni you love when she’s not around you. you catch her laughing with her friends at lunch, smiling, looking pretty, and seeming unbothered by everything.

you might die if you don't get to interact with her normally again. every second, the thought of hanni smiling at you instead, maybe even kissing you and holding onto you like before, crosses your mind. you try to push it down, burying it deep into the back of your mind, locking it away; because the only way to try and live with it for the time being is to ignore it.

(it’s almost impossible.

screw that, it’s impossible.)

–

hanni catches sight of you from a few tables away in the lunchroom. you’re surrounded by cheerful, excited teammates, all celebrating the recent district win. even haerin, usually quiet and reserved, is more talkative and lively.

but you’re not.

her eyes meet yours for a fleeting second. she sees a flicker of hope in your gaze, and her heart clenches. she tries hard to look away, forcing herself to ignore you as she always does. despite the happiness and laughter around you, there’s a melancholy in your eyes that she can’t shake off, and it makes her heart ache. even with that, she can’t give in, she’s too afraid of false truths and feeling worse along the line.

“you haven’t touched your lunch.” minji points out. “hanni, you can’t keep doing this.”

“i have to.”

“i know she fucked up, but she’s come to me begging to talk to you. she’s hurt and regrets a lot. if you could let her explain, then maybe things will work out.”

“and what if it’s just a sugarcoated explanation? minji, i can’t feel like that again.”

“you’re already skipping meals, and i know it’s screwing you up too. could letting her back in really be any worse?”

hanni hates that minji is really smart. she’s right—she’s usually right, anyway. hanni knows she’s partly to blame for letting the crack in your relationship start to form again. if the distance keeps growing, she’s not sure if it can be patched up the way it was before. the thought of losing what you two had, after all the effort to rebuild it, terrifies her.

“i don’t know minji.” she puts her head down, her voice being muffled in her arms as she says, “i really don’t know.”

“you have to let her in.”

“will she let me in?”

“y/n is not a bad person, from my judgement at least.” minji states. she puts a hand on hanni’s back, offering a comforting squeeze. “plus, my best friend can’t eat because of it.”

–

hanni watches you from afar, still on the school courts shooting hoops long after practice has ended. she knows you use practice to distract yourself and escape, and seeing you shoot like a relentless machine makes her feel worse than she already does. you miss one shot, then another, and finally, in frustration, throw the ball across the court, not far from where hanni stands.

from across the gym, you spot her standing in the doorway, frozen in place. your chest heaves with exertion, sweat dripping, and exhaustion settling in. just seeing hanni makes your body feel heavier, shoulders slumping and arms going limp.

she watches you with a frown but can’t hold your gaze any longer. you observe her biting her lip before she turns and leaves, and you're left alone with the weight of your emotions and the distance between you growing even larger.

it’s all my fault. it’s the truth, you can’t let it go on any longer. your legs hurt, you don’t know if shooting is worth it after seeing her because she’ll flash in your mind and you’ll miss each time.

hanni’s not going to give in for another while, and you’re growing impatient. you’re not fourteen anymore, you can’t be stubborn and stupid for the rest of your life.

you can’t be the reason for your own regrets anymore, losing everything you’ve built with hanni – losing hanni – would be the last straw.

–

the sound of something hitting the window halts hanni’s efforts of falling asleep. she hasn’t been able to without melatonin, not when she’s been distancing herself from you.

she rubs her eyes and groans, then glances through the window, her breath fogging the cold glass as she scoffs at the sight of you standing outside. it's freezing, she knows, and even the a/c can't fend off the chill. she squints, trying to make out your figure in the dim light. you're in pajamas, a light long-sleeve shirt flapping loosely in the wind, and plaid pants that are clearly shit against the biting cold. the front lights aren't on, casting you in shadows, but she can still see enough to worry about you.

she can’t, she’s done everything she can not to talk to you, but she can’t just ignore the fact that you’re out in the cold and if she does brush you off you’ll end up sick the next day. hanni can give you the cold shoulder, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you, she can’t have you catching a cold.

you wait there, feeling your fingers start to numb as the wind blows again. your teeth clammer against each other when you shiver, waiting there helplessly; the only way to get hanni back is to be vulnerable, if that means waking up stuffy and congested, then so be it.

"what the hell is wrong with you, y/n?" hanni says, her tone more worried than angry. she rushes over to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you inside. "it's past midnight, are you insane?"

“hanni let me apologize, please. no bullshit this time, full truth.”

“y/n,” hanni sighs, looking at you closely. the lamp in her living room hits one side of your face, showing the slight tint of red on your cheeks and nose. “come upstairs. fuck you’re so lucky my parents aren’t home.”

“thank you.”

“yeah, whatever.” she says, but so quietly that you can’t even hear it.

you follow her like a lost dog up the stairs and into her room, she closes the door, then turns on her desk lamp.

hanni hears your breath shake. “there’s a reason behind everything i do.”

“don’t sugarcoat anything y/n. i’ve given you a second chance, you’re lucky i’m giving you a third.”

“i know, i’m the luckiest person already after being able to be your friend. and i want that again, no, let me be clear.” you step closer to her, head tilted down to meet her features. shes unable to tear away from your gaze, stuck in place. somehow, you look even cuter with your rosy cheeks and ruined hair from the wind, and those pajamas make you look like an adorable idiot. “it’s not an excuse, but people are so stupid when they’ve just become teenagers.”

“clearly.”

“i know.” you sigh out again. she’s looking up still, dead into your eyes that soften upon just seeing her and it’s like there’s a whole world in your pupils as they dilate. “look, i don’t want to regret more than i already do. i was stupid, i never liked anyone, – romantically – until you.”

“what?”

“hanni, i found you so pretty and amazing and we were fucking young and you were my only friend. i couldn’t even make friends when i went to korea, you know? no one was as striking as you. i’ve made friends here but they’re nothing like you. it’s just so embarrassing and terrible to admit, i’ve been running around it, in circles really. that’s why i’ve never told you, that’s why i get so mad at the mere mention of it because it’s just so… it frustrated me.”

“what are you saying y/n?”

“hanni.” your voice lowers and your lips twitch. “ all those years, they were frustrating and confusing and screwed up my brain that wasn’t even fully developed. i’ve loved you for more years than i can count on one hand. i never knew that, really, until we got to middle school. i was so scared my feelings would get in the way and you had all these other friends that made you laugh more than me. i was scared you would grow out of me, i hated the idea of you with anyone else but me.”

silence follows, hanni’s brows upturn and her jaw drops slightly. the red glazing your cheeks is much more apparent, so deep that she might even be able to see it without the soft light in her room.

“i shouldn’t have been so insecure and stupid and selfish and–” you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “i’m sorry. and i’m still in love with you more than you’ll ever know, and after kissing you i know that’s not going away. i know that to fix everything i need to be honest and i couldn’t even do that and i–”

“you like me?” hanni says, surprised isn’t enough to explain how she feels.

“what?”

“it’s all because you liked me? you did this because you were in love with me? y/n, oh my god.”

“i understand if you’re mad hanni i really do–”

“no– yes. i’m pissed.” she looks at you defeatedly, but somehow relieved at the same time. “you’re the stupidest person i know.” her voice is faint as she pieces everything together.

“i know and i shouldn’t have–”

“no, shut up.” she watches your expression shift into confusion. her hands find their way to your face, cupping it like it’s the only thing they were meant to do. she whispers as she leans closer, “you dumbass just shut up.”

her lips are on yours again since the hotel, rushed and desperate and everything in between.

naturally, your hands find their way to her waist, holding her close. you melt into each other, kissing and kissing because it's the only thing you can and want to do. warmth floods through you, getting rid of the cold of the night. hanni reverses the numbing sensation that you had felt, making you feel. what you’re feeling? there’s not much that can describe that, you just know that everything in this moment is perfect. she's perfect—her against you, with you, close to you. her lips, her presence, just her—hanni.

both of you pull away at the same time after running short on breath. she stares at you, plays with your hair, and kisses you again.

hanni does anything she can to keep close to you, right there in the middle of her room on the carpet that you helped her pick out.

you don't think there's a single thought in your mind that isn't of hanni, not just because you’re kissing her, but really, in general. her fingers grip the back of your neck, her are lips soft and warm against yours, and she groans lightly into you. the heat radiates off her skin, wrapping you in a comforting warmth that seeps into your bones.

and it feels right to move over, hanni figures. she guides you over to her bed, praying that you two don’t trip when she redirects you over to her matress, climbing into your lap. she pulls away again, slowly.

your lips have a mind of their own, following hers even if they’re starting to get puffy. you’re unsure whether or not you can even breathe.

she slides her hands to the sides of your neck, then up just below your jawline. her skin brushes against you and goosebumps roam up your spine.

“you’re so stupid.”

“uh huh.” you mumble, staring at her like a loser. “yeah.”

she giggles, then her lips form a loving smile. “you’re in love with me.” she says, almost like she’s convincing herself. “you love me.”

bashfully, you respond, “yeah.”

“and because of that you avoided me.”

your hands loosen around her waist. “sorry.”

“no, you’re an idiot.”

“i know hanni, i know.”

“no you don’t.” she slides one hand back into your hair and it feels like time has slowed down. “i’ve been in love with you, dumbass.”

“you– you have?”

“we just madeout for almost an hour – probably – yes, i’m in love with you. i had a crush on you when we were twelve– i’ve had a crush on you since.” she leans closer, her lips ghosting over yours. “you’re so, so, dumb y/n. kiss me again and i’ll forgive you, i guess.”

“uh huh.” you practically respond into the kiss, meeting her eagerly.

it feels right just kissing her like that, slow and steady, then quick and longing until your lips are swollen and numb. she falls down onto the bed tiredly, coaxing you to follow. even after taking each other’s breath away, you’re cautious of the boundaries and what you can do. you’re still an asshole for being stupid and in love, you think you’ll always be an asshole because of that.

but hanni manages to wash away any worry, scooting closer into you and clinging onto you again. you feel her press a haste kiss on your neck and sigh sleepily, then mutter, “i’m just glad things turned out like this.”

“me too.”

“you still owe me a lot y/n.”

nodding slowly, you respond quietly, “okay, i’ll buy us bread tomorrow.”

“mhm,” she closes her eyes, and sighs happily when your fingers start to soothe her scalp. “and kiss me again.”

“that’s nothing.”

“good.” she murmurs. “you’re so warm. stay.”

hanni’s spent every moon thinking of you, being mad at you, missing you, and loving you regardless. you’ve spent every second doing this. it’s the feeling of being curled up together comfortably that makes up for everything – nothing can beat it, nothing’s better than hanni in your arms, right there, right now.

you, hanni, together – that’s all that matters.

“i’m not going anywhere.” you promise, voice so thin it might break if the wind manages to seep through the closed windows. “never again.”

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