#so i will stay here and keep doing what i do best | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edamameiyok · 2 days ago

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ikaw at ako (sophia laforteza x reader)

"'Di ko alam ang gagawin kung mawala ka buhay ko'y may kahulugan tuwing ako'y iyong hagkan."

(i don't know what to do if i lose you. my life has meaning every time you kiss me.)

synopsis: sophia, ever since she met you, always vowed to protect you at all costs. when a mysterious illness begins to plague your entire life, she does everything she can to support you no matter what. however, what if you're already too late to save? tags: heavy angst, hanahaki!au, college!au an: this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: major character death. reader has a medical condition. mention of blood. swearing. kissing. wc: 6.7k

⏯ now playing: ikaw at ako - johnoy danao

“When it’s your first turn in chess, you have either the choice to move your pawn one space forward,” Yoonchae watches as Sophia takes one of her pawns and moves it as she described. She watches closely, her head tilted to the side as the Filipina continues to explain, “Or… you can move it two spaces forward.” She then takes the same pawn and moves it one more space.

Sophia looks up at Yoonchae, an easy smile on her face, but the younger girl notices the tired look in her eyes.

“Why are we playing this again?” The younger one asks. She places her elbow on the table and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. She watches as Sophia picks up one of the pieces— the horse-looking one, Yoonchae identifies. Sophia stares at it, deep in thought, and a slight smile paints her features.

“I don’t know. I hate this game.”

Chess was always confusing to Sophia.

It was a lot of rules to keep track of, and the strategy aspect always gave the Filipina girl a headache. But, for some reason, it was everything to you.

And as your best friend, naturally, it became everything to her as well.

It’s not an exciting activity to watch by any means, especially if you have no idea of what's going on, but she loves to watch you play. Sophia always finds herself at your little chess team meeting when her classes are over for the day and watches you from the other side of the room, waiting patiently for your practice to be over. She has never seen you so passionate about something, and every time she watched you play, it still surprises her how well you knew the game.

Sometimes, when the other members of the team would file out of the room for the day, you would continue to sit at your spot. You’d stare at the chessboard as if pondering the next move, as if someone had the upper hand on you. During these moments, Sophia would humor you and stride over to the chess table, taking the seat across from you as if she were a new opponent challenging you to a game.

This time, though, she decides to play the match. “I’m a chess champion, you know?” She starts, leaning over the table with her elbows propped up, her chin resting against her fists as she eyes you teasingly. She smiles at the way you roll your eyes, but the way the corners of your mouth quirk up tells her that you aren’t actually annoyed with her presence.

Your eyes stay trained on the chessboard as you take one of the pieces– the bishop, Sophia thinks. She watches as you move it three spaces diagonally. “Oh yeah? How long have you been playing?” You ask in a lifted tone. Sophia scoffs playfully and takes one of the pieces on her side. She pretends to know exactly where to put it and attempts to move it, but stops when you click your tongue.

A small laugh escapes her lips. “Shit, am I moving it wrong?” Sophia looks at you with crescent eyes, her chess champion facade faltering as you nod your head with an amused smile.

You point at a spot on the board. “It can only move forward. I suggest you put it here if you want an advantage.”

Sophia nods and does as you say. She whispers under her breath, “I was just testing you.” You tilt your head at her words, smiling as you move another one of your pieces. It’s the same one she just moved, but you move it farther up the board, successfully taking one of her pawns in the process. Sophia rolls her eyes at this. “I thought you said I had an advantage.”

You chuckle and look up at her, a twinkle in your eyes that Sophia finds herself getting lost in. “Just because I took one of your pawns doesn’t always mean you’re cooked.” Her mouth forms an “O” shape at your words and quickly picks up another one of her pieces– the queen.

However, you quickly stop her, grabbing her hand. “Oh, not her. Don’t do that!” You tell her in a firm tone. She can’t help but giggle at your serious demeanor. Sophia knows this game is for fun, but she always finds it endearing how you treat all of them as if it were life or death.

She cocks her head at you and bites her lip to contain the smile that wants to spread across her lips. “Why not the queen? Scared, Y/n?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “The queen is the most important piece in the game. You shouldn’t use her yet, especially if you have other moves you can make.” You explain. Your hand stays wrapped around Sophia’s, and she stares at you, her heart beginning to beat rapidly in her chest when she feels your grip tighten slightly.

“I thought the point of the game is to take the king, isn’t he the most important?” Your eyes continue scanning the board, and you let go of Sophia’s hand, pointing at another piece.

You look back at Sophia, and she has an urge to reach out and fix your glasses. They’re slightly askew, and she has to bite her tongue, almost telling you how cute you look with them on. You don’t notice how she admires you, too focused on the game your best friend started as a joke. “Your queen can go anywhere on the board. She’s the one who can get you closer to checkmate, or at least a check.”

Sophia nods at your words, looking away from you with a slight blush on her cheeks. She places the queen back down in its spot, then grabs the piece you point at. She stares at it for a moment, trying to remember how it’s meant to be moved. Your hand finds hers again, and you guide it in the right direction. “He’s your knight,” You whisper, settling Sophia’s hand on the piece’s new spot on the board.

Your hand stays on hers as you look back up at the Filipina, smiling softly. “Check.” Sophia is about to cheer despite not knowing entirely what that meant, but a cough suddenly escapes your lips. You let go of Sophia’s hand to cover your mouth with the inside of your arm, and she frowns, reaching out to grab your shoulder tightly. “Y/n?”

You shake your head, waving her off. You begin to pat your chest gently as your coughs finally subside. The look you give Sophia is gentle, as if to ease her worries. “It’s just a cold, don’t worry, Fia.” She purses her lips at your words, not believing you, not even for a second. You reach out to her, grabbing her hand to hold in your own. Your thumb caresses the back of her hand as you smile softly. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.”

Sophia prides herself on being one of the top scholars at the university you both attend.

She has always been on top of everything, never allowing herself to fall behind in her studies. Teachers have always praised the girl for being a diligent student, and every time, you always commented on her being a ‘nerd.’ She always bit back at your words, however, and often reminded you of your own ‘nerdy’ hobby. For someone so impartial to school and the rules, it still surprises Sophia to this day how you became so interested in the game of chess.

“It’s exciting once you know how to play,” You always claimed. “Don’t knock it till’ you try it.”

And she has, she always tries to understand, but it never seems to click in her head.

But it’s a lot better than the alternative activities you could have partaken in while in high school. You at some point mentioned the idea of joining the wrestling team, but Sophia quickly shot the idea down, scolding you for even thinking about something as dangerous as that. She listed all the reasons why you shouldn’t, even sent you a few articles that detailed the long-term effects of becoming a wrestler.

She was very relieved that you stuck with the chess team instead, and honestly, she definitely prefers seeing you in the cute sweater vest and tie you’re required to wear as opposed to those silly singlets.

Now, you’re on a chess scholarship, attending university because your parents told you to (Sophia knows the real reason was to stay by her side, but she doesn’t comment on it. She simply teases you for it on random occasions). You’re still terrible at school, and Sophia still lectures you for it.

Who can blame her, though? Sophia has big dreams; Dreams about becoming famous on Broadway one day.

You, on the other hand, don’t know what your dreams are. Sophia often asks you what your plans are, but you never have a put-together response. You’re studying psychology, but other than that, you don’t know what would come after. Your best friend asks you about graduate school, internships, and more, but you’re not sure what more you can give.

This mindset of yours grows tenfold when a mysterious illness creeps into your life.

Its arrival was quiet, unexpected. One day, you were healthy and ready to take over the world, and then the next, you struggled to breathe. Every other sentence was followed by a cough that looked too painful to endure. Against all rationale you tried to make with your best friend, you ended up going to the doctor to get a diagnosis.

What you came back with scared Sophia even more.

“They don’t know what it is,” You casually told her after the visit to the clinic. You continue playing a round of virtual chess on your phone, ignoring the look Sophia gave you. “I’ll just have to see what it becomes, I guess.”

Sophia narrows her eyes. Something she always disliked about you was your ability to overlook anything, no matter how important it is. You often failed tests in high school because of careless mistakes, and tournaments were lost due to underestimating your opponents’ ability to catch onto your play style. It frustrated Sophia that it never bothered you – there’s always next time, you’d say.

But, what if there isn’t a next time? What if that was your last shot?

Sophia sits with you on the couch in your apartment, feeling more upset by her thoughts as you continue to sit in silence, playing chess as if your health weren’t on the line. She hits her limit when you let out a slight cough, reaching over to snatch your phone out of your hands. Your head snaps toward her, a pout forming on your lips. “Fia… I almost got checkmate.”

She ignores your whines and places your phone on the other side of the couch. “I don’t like the answer you just gave me.” Her voice wavers as she speaks, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. Sophia crosses her arms and tries to remain level, but when you shrug your shoulders, she can’t help but feel as though she’s losing her mind. “Y/n!”

“Sophia! That’s what they told me, okay? I don’t know what else to say…” You reply incredulously. You lean back against the couch with a sigh, avoiding her stare that burns into your skull.

Her heart drops at the sullen look in your eyes. Despite your attempts at pretending everything is okay, she knows deep down you know exactly how serious this could be. She decides not to stress you out even further, scooting closer to you to lay her head in your lap. Her eyes close slowly when she feels your fingers begin to thread through her hair. “I’m here for you. Always,” She whispers.

You hum in acknowledgement, opting to remain silent. She lies there, memorizing the way it feels to be this close to you. She engraves the feeling you give her inside her chest in hopes that she will be brave enough to say something.

She isn’t, though. Not yet.

Sophia doesn’t like to worry about you in silence.

She’s very loud about it, always letting passersby hear the latest news when it comes to your health issues that you don’t like talking about anyway. But, Sophia doesn’t care or listen to your pleas for her to shut up. She wants you to get better; she doesn't like knowing that, every day, you’re declining by the second, and there is nothing anyone can do.

Sharing a class with you isn’t easy either. Mid-lecture, she would watch you leave the classroom during one of your many coughing fits. The lesson would continue, and it has come to a point where the other students in class wouldn’t even blink an eye. But Sophia stares at the door as if your life depended on it. She counted the minutes until you came back. She would sit and wait as if there was a timer that would go off any second, and you’d be gone.

Sophia has spent 10 years by your side. She plans for 10 more, and maybe forever if she’s lucky.

Sophia sits across from you at one of the chess tables. You chew at the bottom of your pen as you stare at the pieces. Each move you make is calculated, executed with precise movements that always make her squint at you.

You’re practicing for another tournament, and she can tell it’s an important one by the way you shake your head at a piece you’ve moved, how your hand shakes when you record what you did in the notepad Sophia gifted you last Christmas.

Next Christmas, she wants to get you a new chess timer. She thinks about it when she glances at it once more, and notices how one of the buttons is perpetually stuck pressed down. You wave it off, telling her that it still works, that it doesn’t affect how much time you have left.

But Sophia wants you to have all the time. She doesn’t want you to worry that it will go away too quickly.

You cough slightly, covering your mouth with the inside of your arm as you move another piece with the other hand.

She sits up straighter at this, frowning. “Let’s take a break, mahal.” You shake your head in response, your attention back onto your notepad. You jot down what you’ve done once more and go back to the game. Sophia rolls her eyes and reaches over the table, placing her hand over yours to stop you from continuing. “You’re taking a break.” She tells you firmly, squeezing your hand.

You look up at Sophia and sigh. “Fia…” She squeezes your hand even tighter and narrows her eyes at you.

“You don’t get to say no, Y/n.” Her voice is loud with desperation, and it causes you to jump slightly. Sophia lets go of your hand and stands up from her seat. She kneels and grabs your chess box, shoving it into your hands. It’s her way of telling you to clean up the pieces, and it works as you begrudgingly unlock the box to begin putting everything away.

She stands back up and crosses her arms, watching your every move in silence. “Why do you like this game so much anyway?” Sophia asks, her playful tone coming back. She uncrosses her arms and pokes your shoulder. “I swear you love it more than me.”

You pause what you’re doing to look at your best friend with an annoyed expression. “Maybe I do.” Sophia scoffs and swats your shoulder, daring you to keep playing with her. You chuckle lightly and continue cleaning up, your eyes back on the task at hand. “I love you more than anything, you know that.”

Sophia ignores the way her heart beats faster at your words. She looks down at her feet, her cheeks flushed, and giggles. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a beat between you both. Sophia is about to make another comment, something much more humorous, but you beat her to the punch.

“I like that I always know what comes next.”

Sophia opens her front door one day and sees you crouched down in front of her house’s flower bed. You don’t notice her standing there, seemingly lost in your own world as you stare at the flowers Sophia’s mother recently planted for the springtime.

She waits at the doorway for you, her head tilted as she stares at you curiously. After a few minutes, she decides she’s done waiting and walks up to you. She crosses her arms, opening her mouth to tease you, but your voice cuts her off. “Do you know what flowers these are?” She can’t help but giggle at your question and shrugs, finding your fascination with the flower bed to be amusing.

She crouches down next to you and looks at you with a soft smile. “No… I honestly wasn’t paying attention to her plans for the flowers this year.” Her response elicits a weak chuckle from you. She notices how quiet it sounded, your laugh lacking its usual brightness, but she bites her tongue, not wanting to annoy you more with her constant questions and worrying.

“They’re Forget-Me-Nots.” Sophia furrows her brow, not expecting an honest answer to your own question. She looks back at the flowers and reaches out to them, holding one of their petals in between her fingertips. She smiles at the beautiful baby blue color it displays.

“How’d you know that?” She asks, her eyes still on the flowers in front of her. The urge to pull one off its stem comes to Sophia, but she knows it would make her mother mad. Sophia’s mother takes pride in being yard of the month, a title they’ve earned many times from their stupid HOA. There are so many flowers to take, but somehow, her mother would notice something missing from the bunch.

As Sophia continues to weigh her choices, your voice fills the silence, “I’ve been… Really interested in flowers lately. Like, their meanings and shit, I guess.” Your words are followed by another chuckle that sounds more familiar. Sophia looks at you and sees you looking back at her, your eyes twinkling in a way that she hasn’t seen in months.

It catches her off guard, taking her breath away. She thinks about when you were both younger, jumping into lakes without a second thought and riding your bikes at night with the lightposts illuminating your path, your laughter filling the quiet neighborhood.

Despite how long it’s been since those days, she knows it’s still you. Sophia still sees you as carefree, full of life, with nothing to lose. You were reckless and full of a childlike rebellion that always excited Sophia’s structured life.

She stares at you and wonders what changed in between. But she still doesn’t question you, for fear of losing this moment. Instead, she opts to continue the conversation with a lighthearted tone, “What? Are you gonna be a florist one day?” You laugh in response, shaking your head at her claim. Her smile grows wider when she watches you pluck one of the flowers out of its bunch and hand it to her.

“Guess what these mean,” You ask softly, a tinge of teasing in your tone. She looks down at the flower in your hand, then looks back at you, shrugging her shoulders. It’s easy enough to guess, Sophia knows that– It’s probably in the name. But she loves how you explain things, she loves that you seem to know everything.

You chuckle at her silence, taking it as a cue to tell her despite the lack of an answer. “It’s a promise to never forget.” Suddenly, you furrow your brows, a cough escaping your lips. You cover your mouth with the inside of your arm, and Sophia watches you worriedly, instinctively reaching out to place a hand on your back. She rubs it gently as you continue to cough, and she feels her lip begin to tremble.

There’s something about the way you cough this time. Sophia watches you clutch at your chest, as if there was something in your lungs desperate to be free. You try to take a breath, but it comes out as a wheeze, providing you with more discomfort than before. You looked in pain. Sophia scoots closer to you, feeling helpless as you remove your hand from your chest to grasp at your neck.

“Y/n…” Sophia whispers, tears spilling out of her eyes, watching you struggle with your illness. You turn your head away from the girl, covering your mouth with your hands. To her relief, the coughing finally ends, and you remove your hands from your mouth, revealing the Forget-Me-Nots in your palms. Sophia quickly reaches over and grabs your wrist to get a better view of them.

She notices their baby blue color, now stained an ugly crimson.

Sophia surges forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and buries her face into the crook of your shoulder. Her tears begin to stain your shirt, but she doesn’t care. “Y/n–”

You cut her off. “Can we ride our bikes?” The request throws the Filipina off guard. She pulls away from you with an incredulous look in her eyes.

“You just coughed up blood, and you want to ride our bikes?” You stare at her, a dim look in your eyes as you nod slowly. The flowers fall out of your hands as if discarding the evidence of your deteriorating health. It’s a silent plea to live in blissful ignorance, to be kids again in the quiet suburbs you and Sophia used to rule over like a kingdom.

She stares back at you, her cheeks stained with tears. There are so many questions that linger between you both, and Sophia has never been the one to let them go unanswered. But there’s a hopeful look in your eyes.

“I don’t even know if there’s air in my tires,” Sophia says through a sniffle, smiling slightly as she wipes the remaining tears out of her eyes.

You stand up and hold out your hand to your best friend. “I’ll put air in them.”

She ignores the fact that your hands are stained red. Sophia grabs onto your hand and pretends nothing is wrong. She allows you to pull her onto your feet as if you were both going to fight the monster together with wooden swords and untied sneakers.

She follows you to her garage and thinks about how she could never forget you.

You start to insist on more consistent bike rides with Sophia, and she always obliges.

She doesn’t quite understand the reason, but every time she sees you outside her window, it reminds her of summer days back in grade school.

Sophia walks out of the garage with her bike, a helmet on her head, and another one in her hand. She throws it at you, and you catch it with ease, rolling your eyes as you place it on your head. “I said I don’t like wearing my helmet.”

She gets on her bike and begins to pedal away from you, yelling over her shoulder, “You put it on, though!”

She smiles widely as she looks down the street and pedals as fast as she can. The smile grows bigger when she watches you speed past her, the helmet strapped securely onto your head.

You end up at the riverwalk, a place you and Sophia often occupied when you were younger. When you both started attending university, it became nearly impossible to find the time to go. But, after bickering back and forth about where to go next, you two finally decided on the secret spot you found in middle school.

Your bikes lean against the tree by the water as Sophia skips rocks across the river, and you sit on the ground, drawing in the dirt with a stick you found. It’s peaceful; The only thing that can be heard is the slight rustling of the trees and Sophia’s failed attempts at skipping stones, only ever hearing the loud plops into the water.

“Show me how to do this again, please?” Sophia whines, turning around to look at you with a pout on her lips. You look up at her with wide eyes, seemingly snapped out of the thoughts in your head. She bites her lip to contain the laugh that wants to escape as she watches you scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over yourself as you run up to the girl with a childlike excitement. You snatch one of the rocks out of her hand, taking a step back away from her to get more room.

“Just flick your wrist, like this,” You try to demonstrate; however, you end up flinging the rock right into the water. You both stand in silence as the rock sinks to the bottom. Sophia hears you click your tongue, and she doesn’t allow you to say another word, bursting into laughter. She holds her stomach as she doubles over at the unimpressed expression on your face. You groan, bending over to grab another rock. “Okay, you caught me off guard,” You huff out, standing up straight for another attempt.

Sophia takes a deep breath as she watches you try again. She regains her composure once she sees the rock skip smoothly across the river, the satisfying sound of its jumps echoing in her ears. A gentle smile forms on her features as she looks at you. She looks at the freckles on your cheeks, the curve of your smile, how your eyes crinkle at the slight breeze that picks up. Sophia loves everything about you, and it terrifies her how in love she is with you.

When Sophia first met you, you were both 11 years old. You had just moved into the neighborhood, and her first impression of you was how stupid you were. She spotted you by the pond that hid behind the trees in your neighborhood and watched you in disapproval as you lit firecrackers to throw into the water.

Her first words to you were: “Are you stupid?”

And yours, in return, were: “Yeah, kind of.”

But despite that interaction, Sophia stuck by your side. As she got to know you, the feeling to protect you grew. The thought of anything happening to you scared Sophia– she believes you could grow old together. She doesn’t know when things changed, but the desire for something more overwhelmed her. Being in love with you meant the risk of losing you, and Sophia couldn’t fathom that.

As she stares at you, though, she wonders if it’s a risk that she would need to take.

“I love you, Y/n,” Sophia whispers. You look at her, and Sophia notices a flicker of something in your eyes, but she can’t put a name to it. “You’re my best friend.”

You blink at her. Sophia’s heart drops as you look away from her, a noticeable shift in the air.

“I love you too, Fia. More than you know.”

Your tournament comes quickly, and of course, Sophia is there to watch you compete. She walks with you toward the building where it’s being held on campus, and she notices how you’ve put space between you and her. The Filipina frowns at this. Usually, on your tournament days, you’d be buzzing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your hand would never leave Sophia’s as you rattled on about the other opponents.

It’s a conversation Sophia never understood, but it’s a moment where, for once, she’s not the one filling the silence. It’s always you listening so attentively, letting her vent without taking a breath or pause. But she loves listening to you talk even though it’s only about stats, or the moves you’ve been practicing to use during the tournament.

But you walk silently, head bowed, with your hands in your pocket. You’ve been looking less like yourself— so exhausted, no vibrance to your eyes or smile. It has come to a point where you’ve gotten weaker as the weeks have gone by. The pep in your step is nowhere to be seen, and Sophia worries you’ve become a shell of your former self.

She thought it would be different today, but she hates to think that this could be the worst your illness has made you appear.

Sophia stares at you; she tells herself to be strong as tears begin to prickle in her eyes. She hates to see you in pain— she never has. Your reckless behavior when you were younger always led to Sophia putting bandages on your scars, kissing your bruises despite your protests. She never told you this, but seeing you in pain always made her feel somewhat distraught.

Now, you couldn’t even imagine the war going through her head every time you coughed.

“You’re so quiet, I don’t even know who you’re competing against today,” She says, attempting to start a conversation. She hooks her arm with yours and pulls you close to her side, ignoring how you tense at her touch. Sophia continues, pretending everything is normal for your sake, “How am I supposed to know who to sabotage?”

You smile weakly at her words. “Is that how I’ve won my tournaments in the past?” Sophia lights up when you match her playful energy, bumping her hip with yours.

“Duh. You actually suck at chess and it’s been me helping you all along.” A chuckle escapes your lips, which is suddenly followed by a cough. Sophia’s brows furrow worriedly, but she relaxes when it doesn’t continue, her eyes softening when you pull your hand out of your pocket to lace your fingers together.

You take a sharp breath, the discomfort on your face present as you do. “Well, I’m glad I have you then.” You squeeze her hand tightly, and Sophia squeezes back, suddenly stopping in her tracks. She pulls you back slightly, and it causes your head to turn toward her, eyebrow raised in questioning and slight confusion. “Fia?”

She lets go of your hand and walks up to you. Her eyes lock onto yours as she reaches up to adjust your tie, fixing it before getting closer to the tournament. “Why do I always have to fix your tie before these things?” A playful smile spreads across her lips as she pulls at your collar gently, an action that causes you to look away briefly.

“You’re my good luck charm.” You proclaim. She notices how your voice shakes slightly, but she brushes it off as nervousness.

Sophia lets go of your collar and finds your hands again, holding them tightly. She tilts her head, smiling up at you as she asks, “What kind of charm would I be?”

You look back at her, the twinkle she loves so much present in your eyes as you reply, “An anchor.”

You’re down to your last opponent, and the stakes are higher than ever.

Sophia doesn’t understand how collegiate-level chess works (or any form of chess, honestly), but she knows that everything depends on how you do during this match. She knows whatever you do in the next few minutes rests on your shoulders.

The room is thick with silence as the match continues. The taps on the timer are the only sound, going back and forth like a game of tennis. Sophia watches every move you make, biting her lip in anticipation. Your opponent taps the clock, and it’s back to you. Your hand moves quickly, picking up one of your pieces to move.

But in an instant, it falls out of your hand. The sound of the piece falling to the ground causes several people in the room to gasp in surprise. Sophia jumps out of her seat when you begin to cough loudly. She runs over to you, but you’re already out of your seat, making your way out the door. The officials of the tournament watch in shock, and words are being exchanged amongst the other teams, but Sophia ignores them, running after you.

She watches you run into the bathroom, and she quickly follows you, entering it as you close the stall door. “Y/n! Are you okay?!” She walks to the stall you occupy, crossing her arms as she stands in front of it. Sophia feels tears begin to form in her eyes as she hears you cough again– the sound so familiar, yet it always seems like your last.

Tears fall from her eyes as she bangs on the stall door with her fists. “Y/n, let me in right now!”

“F-Fia…” You manage to say. Your voice sounds hoarse as you try to continue, “Fia… I’m done, okay? It’s- It’s over.” Another cough follows your words, and Sophia shakes her head frantically, refusing to believe your words. She doesn’t know what you mean, but she’s afraid you’re talking about the latter.

Her fists bang against the door again, even harder, a desperate attempt to get you to open the door, to keep fighting whatever it is you’re struggling with. “Y/n, open this fucking door or I’m crawling underneath it!” She yells, slamming her hand against it in frustration. There’s a silence on the other side, and your coughs have finally stopped. However, a feeling of dread overcomes the Filipina.

She’s about to get on her knees to use the alternative way to get to you, but the door swings open, revealing you in slight distress. Tears spill from your eyes, and there’s blood on the corners of your mouth. Tiny splatters of crimson stain your collar, and Sophia notices how your tie is no longer around your neck, now gripped in your hand, which is also slightly bloodied. She glances at your other hand and squints, noticing the baby blue petals sticking out of your fist.

Where those came from, she has no idea. Sophia’s mind runs wildly with thoughts as she stares at your current state of chaos. Her best friend since childhood, her Y/n, stands in front of her like a ghost.

She knows the clock is ticking and everything that matters rests on these last few seconds you might have left.

Sophia doesn’t think before she acts. If there is anything she has ever learned from you, it’s that life shouldn’t be lived in the fear of having no time left. And with that in mind, she cups your cheeks, pressing her lips against yours.

It’s messy, and it tastes metallic, but when you kiss her back, it’s as if for the first time in months, it’s a hell of a lot easier to breathe.

You and Sophia walk out of the building, hand in hand. It’s as if a miracle appeared because, against all odds, you managed to win the match. You wear your medal around your neck, a bright smile on your lips as you swing your interlocked hands back and forth. “I can’t believe you chewed the Arbiter out…” A chuckle escapes your lips as you look down at Sophia, amused. “Like, they were gonna give me my time back… I had accommodations.”

Sophia scoffs and leans her head against your arm, closing her eyes. “My bad for thinking he was gonna give you shit for what happened.” She suddenly stops walking, tugging your hand so you can turn toward her. When you do, she pulls you close, her hands finding your shoulders. She stares up at you lovingly, relief washing over her as she realizes you’re starting to look like yourself again. She isn’t sure what has changed, but she has an inkling it has something to do with the kiss you two shared earlier.

With that in mind, she smirks, reaching down into her pocket to take out her lip gloss. You look at the item in her hand and you laugh loudly, throwing your head back. “I can’t believe you right now!” You say through your laughter. The sound is music to Sophia’s ears as she applies the gloss onto her lips, capping it once she’s done. She puts it back into her pocket, and her hands return to your shoulders, this time though she’s much closer than before.

“I think you owe me a better kiss, Y/n.” She tilts her head, her eyes flickering to your lips.

You raise your brow, smirking as you lean in a little closer. “Do I?” The scent of your shampoo fills Sophia's senses, and she can't believe it took her this long to have you in her space like this. She couldn't believe that, before today, this was a possibility.

She nods and wraps her arms around your neck, tilting her head up. A warmth resonates through her body as she whispers, “It’s like. Emotional compensation.” You chuckle, your nose bumping against hers cutely. The crinkle in your eyes helps Sophia realize that the wait was worth it.

Your next words, though, makes her feel confident in this jump with you.

“I love you, Fia. I’m in love with you,” You confess, breathlessly. The light in your eyes returns as Sophia smiles in response, a soft giggle leaving her lips.

She plays with the hairs on the back of your neck and looks at you as if this is what it’s all about– to be loved by you. “I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

The confession is sealed with a kiss. She doesn’t know this, but your lungs feel much lighter. Your burdens wilt away at Sophia’s fingertips.

Sophia gets the chance to love you for a beautiful two years.

And now she will have to remember you longer than she knew you.

While you struggled with whatever it was all those years ago, something else was hiding behind closed doors, lying dormant. After that went away, another illness decided it was its turn to wreak havoc on you. This time around, though, you remained the same. You loved Sophia vibrantly, giving her the best of you despite your condition. Before it took you away, Sophia was able to gift you that new timer. For your last Christmas together, she gave you a new tie to wear for your first National Chess Championship.

But you never got to go. Instead, you were buried with it, and Sophia straightened it out for you before finally being laid to rest.

Sophia still doesn’t quite understand your love for the game– she still finds it silly. But she feels closer to you every time she moves a piece, remembering how you used to do it with a calculated ease. As she stares at the chessboard, she pretends you’re sitting right next to her, telling her what she should do next.

Her eyes catch Yoonchae grabbing one of the pieces, a small smile forming on her lips as she sees the other girl struggling to remember what to do with it. “That’s your knight,” She whispers. Sophia looks away for a moment and sees the framed picture of you that sits inside the trophy case. All of your awards surround it, but her favorite item amongst them is the Forget-Me-Not she placed there on the first day of Spring. She smiles at the picture before looking back at the chessboard, pointing at a spot for Yoonchae to claim.

“You can move it here.” Yoonchae nods and moves her knight, placing it down where Sophia instructed. She looks at the older girl, waiting for her to make the next move.

Sophia nods and thinks for a moment. She assesses the pieces in front of her and takes a deep breath, picking up her queen. She moves the piece one space to the right and bites her lip, realizing what she has done.

“Checkmate.”

a/n: pls put the pitchforks down im so sorry it had to be done... anyway, lmk what you think haha... hah... </3

requests are closed

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #megan skiendiel #daniela avanzini #manon bannerman #lara raj #sophia laforteza #jeong yoonchae #katseye #sophia laforteza x reader

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organic-bloodbath · 1 day ago

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HI BAE! i want to request a fic for junhee x fem reader. like maybe reader carries her during the jump rope game? i miss her so badd

Carry her

Jun-hee x Reader

Summary: As above

A/N: We are not letting her die. Also pls request smth about No-eul or Hyun-ju 🥹❤️

♡♡♡

You watched Myung-gi talking to Jun-hee but couldn't hear their words. She was sitting down on a bench due to her injured ankle. The conversation didn't seem to go well at all, it was more like an argument – neither of them happy whatever the other was saying.

Eventually, Myung-gi turned around and headed towards the bridge, leaving Jun-hee all alone. The hell? Was he actually going to just abandon the mother of his child like that? You knew Myung-gi was a fucking moron but a part of you thought he still cared about her. Cared about someone else than himself anyway.

You glanced towards the bridge, the players starting to cross it one after another. Some managed to progress quite far along the bridge, while some where swept off their feet by the rope and thrown into their death.

Then, you turned towards Jun-hee and started approaching her. She had fallen into her own thoughts after Myung-gi left her, twiddling her thumbs on her lap. Jun-hee battled with herself what she was going to do – she couldn't possibly manage to pass this game by herself. She was certainly dead already, her leg fucking everything up.

Gi-hun promised to come back to get Jun-hee next, first taking her baby into safety. He was going to help her. He– Oh, who was she kidding? He couldn't get back to her in time, the other players trying to pass the game too blocking his way back. Jun-hee knew Gi-hun wanted her safe, knew that he'd do his best to protect her but he couldn't help her now. Not anymore. Jun-hee trusted that Gi-hun would take great care of her baby, keep her safe.

"What was that all about?" you asked, interrupting Jun-hee's thougths, grounding her back to the reality.

"Nothing," Jun-hee mumbled and shook her head, avoiding eye contact with you for a moment.

"Come on, i'll carry you," you offered, taking a step closer to her. Jun-hee's eyes widened as she looked at you.

"What?" she asked, sure that she had heard you incorrectly. When she realized you were serious, she shook her head and continued, "No, you can't carry me. We'll both fall."

"We'll both die anyway if we stay here," you pointed out and sat next to her, taking her hand in yours and brushed her knuckles with your thumb. "We're a team, aren't we?"

"You have to go through without me," she said and gave you a sad smile, trying to assure you that everything was alright. That it was alright to go and leave her on this side while all the others attempted to cross the bridge.

"Jun-hee," you sighed and put your arm around her shoulder. "I'll take you over there. I'll take you to your baby, alright?"

Jun-hee trusted you, of course she did. You had saved and helped her in almost every game and would offer your help now as well.

She had held your hand while she gave birth, squeezing it so hard it could have crushed your bones but you didn't complain a word. You had pulled her into a room during Mingle. You had helped her stay still during the Red light Green light when the baby kicked her, startling her. You had given a part of your meal to her because "she was eating for two" and "you weren't that hungry anyway".

Now that Jun-hee thought about it a little more – what had she ever done to you? You had helped her in so many more ways than just one, but how had she managed to help you?

Jun-hee hadn't known you for a long time but you had been there for her more than Myung-gi had during the entire time with him. She felt so much more appreciated and seen with you. That's why she couldn't possibly let you get killed because you were dragging her with you in this state.

But Jun-hee looked into your eyes, a glimmer of hope in them that maybe, just maybe, she could hold her daughter at least one more time. Maybe she could live yet another day.

"Please, Jun-hee?" you said, giving a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. "Let's get out of here, you and me."

Eventually Jun-hee gave in and climbed on your back, clinging herself tightly against you with her arms around your shoulders and neck, legs wrapped around your waist.

"Hold on tight," you whispered, making sure you had a firm grip on her too before putting your foot on the bridge. Her hand grabbed your shirt on your chest, keeping the fabric inside her fist right against your heart. You wished Jun-hee wouldn't take too good of a notice how fast your heart was beating right now.

Having looked at the bridge and the rope from afar, it hadn't looked so bad. However, now that you were about to cross the bridge yourself, the reality of it struck much harder. You made a mistake to briefly look down, seeing a few bodies scattered around the flower patterned floor, each lying in their own pool of blood.

Jun-hee squeezed her eyes closed, not daring to look down. No matter how much she did trust you, she was still sure that the two of you wouldn't make it. Well, at least you tried and didn't completely give up.

Jump, thump. Two steps forward.

Everyone else had crossed the bridge by far, which meant that every player who had survived was now staring at you and Jun-hee, giving you even more anxiety than you already were going through. God, how much you hated people staring at you when you were trying to concentrate on doing something.

Especially something which would result to ending your life completely.

Then... there was the gap. Fuck, you hadn't thought of this. The gap looked wider than it probably was. You swallowed, unsure if you could make it or not.

Jump, thump. Jump, thump. Jump, thump.

What's going on, why did you stop? You were doing so well, Jun-hee thought but didn't open her eyes and kept her mouth shut.

Jump, thump. Two steps forward.

There we go.

Jump, thump. Two steps forward.

Jun-hee was waiting for the moment when she wouldn't hear and feel the thump anymore, the bridge steady under your feet. When she'd only feel air brushing her as you'd fall to the field of flowers among the other corpses. But that moment didn't come. Jun-hee still didn't dare to look how far they had progressed and also how much was still left to go. How many jumps over the rope.

Then suddenly, people started to cheer. Jun-hee finally opened her eyes and looked around her, being now surrounded by other players.

You let Jun-hee down just when the timer hit zero, her legs shaking from fear and anxiety. Jun-hee tried to comprehend the situation for a moment, trying to make herself believe that she, too, had passed the game and was still alive.

Jun-hee grabbed your arm and pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face against your chest.

"Thank you," she mumbled against the fabric, warming your chest with her hot breath. "Thank you, Y/N."

After she pulled away from you, she lifted herself on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss on the corner of your lip.

"If we'll get out of here alive, i'll repay the favor for you," Jun-hee promised with a smile.

"You'll save my life too some day, huh?" you smirked but felt your cheeks warming up. Jun-hee noticed the slight pink spreading on your cheeks and thought it was cute.

"Well, i would if i could. But i hope we won't end up in another life or death situation," Jun-hee smiled, crossing her fingers.

Gi-hun approached her, handing the baby over back to Jun-hee who took the baby in her arms, wrapped in her own jacket.

"Hi, sweetie," Jun-hee whispered and caressed the baby's cheek with her finger.

You made eye contact with Myung-gi who was standing a little further back but was watching you and Jun-hee, guilt and shame washing through his face. He knew Jun-hee wanted nothing to do with him anymore, that was clear enough.

"Y/N?" Jun-hee said, ripping your attention to herself from Myung-gi. "Would you carry her back to the dorm? You know, um, my leg."

She offered the baby for you to hold. You looked at Jun-hee and her baby for a moment until smiled and nodded.

"Of course," you agreed and carefully took the baby in your arms, wrapped inside the jacket. An even wider smile spread on your face. "Hi, there."

Jun-hee looked at you with her daughter in awe, the sight making her heart flutter. She knew for sure that she'd want to have you in their life.

That was, if both of you survived the final game tomorrow.

♡♡♡

#squid game imagine #squid game x reader #jun hee #jun hee x reader #jun hee imagine #kim junhee #kim jun hee #kim jun hee x reader #jun hee squid game #squid game #squid game season 3

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gwennkoi · 2 days ago

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The doors to the throne room opened with a boom as a woman dressed in red-lacquered armor stepped through. She held her flaming sword at the ready and called out, "King Renfrid Bedillion! In the name of the people, our country, and by the righteousness of the Goddess, I have come for your head and the throne!"

The king clapped from their throne in thunderous applause. "Bravo! Yes! That was the entrance I was hoping for! Oh, it was worth the wait."

The warrior stalked forward, peering for hidden assassins and guards, but the chamber appeared empty except for the king and herself. "I will have my vengeance and free this kingdom from your grip. Your guards will never make it in time."

The king laughed to themself, "Oh, of course not. I haven't kept guards in here for years." They stand up and lay their crown onto the throne. "I have left a series of scrolls hidden in a cache beneath the throne. They have information on which nobles I believe to be the most corrupt and are stealing from my-- well, now your--coffers. There are also some recommendations on which members of your new retinue can be trusted."

"You can not talk your way out of this, you vile tyrant. You will die by my hands this day." The woman has reached the steps to the throne and continued with divine purpose.

"Oh, I do hope so. Also, make sure not to keep going with the whole divine mandate to rule thing. I'm certain that's all made up by the church and the nobility as a way to keep the peasantry under their thumb. I had an idea to let everyone help choose who is in charge, but I couldn't figure out how to stop the nobility from rigging it in their favor. I'm sure you'll figure out a way around that. My reports about you say you're quite clever." The king knelt to the ground and offered his neck.

The people's champion raised her sword and stopped. She stood there poised to make her final strike but did nothing until the fury finally drained from her face, and she stayed her blade.

"Why aren't you defending yourself?!" The warrior demanded with irritation taking command of her emotions.

The king looked up into her eyes and gave a sad smile. "Oh, I've been trying to get deposed since before you were born. I've been trying to find a worthy successor, and the prophesy said you'd do the best job of it."

"Why in the Goddess's light would you want to be deposed? Do you not care for your own life? Could you not change the rules of our great nation? Why have you taken steps towards a great revolution?" Her fury was returning, but her sword no longer threatened the king.

"Oh, child, I have no idea what the world looks like beyond these walls. I have no idea what it is like to grow up farming the fields or being threatened by monsters. I am too far separated from the reality of my people. There were other potential deposers I could have offered my neck to, but they had no idea of the true responsibility of leadership and would only have caused turmoil. Now, take your prize." The king once more lowered his head.

"I cannot! You are not the tyrant the church described to me!"

The king looked up and laughed, "Oh, they put you up to this? I hadn't heard. Yeah, don't trust them. They only want more power like my grandfather gave them. They care only about larger cathedrals, larger tithes, and their whims to have royal backing."

The king stood and stretched their arms and legs. They put their hand on the warrior's shoulder and led them down the steps before the throne. "From everything I've gathered about you, young hero, you seem like the type of leader the nation deserves. And now that you have lost that fervor I was depending on, I must make other plans for being properly deposed."

"What do you mean, your majesty?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just sad because I had always liked the artistry of it. Shame." And with that, the king sprinted to the large stained glass window and leapt through it.

The king, after hearing the prophecy about a child fated to depose them, decided to just let the events play out without interfering.

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bewitched-hours · 1 day ago

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Good morning/evening.

Well its me again :] and I'm here for another request.

Basically, Mafioso x Bartender?Reader oneshot [You can make it into yandere if you want; No pressure].

Where Reader was once Mafi's best friend when they were young adult [During that time, They didn't know that He works and is a mafia himself.]

However, They had end their friendship after slowly realizing They're being friend to a dangerous criminal. After that, They live hidden with the fear of being mistaken as His accomplice and fear of geting revenge + beaten.

As for that, They faked their identities and hidden their true job under cover as a bartender since all the people come to the bar to drink [get drunk, remember nothing next morning = barely see the bartender's face well + They hidden their identities.]

But They didn't even expect to meet Him IN THAT FRICKING BAR THEY'RE WORKING-

[Extra note: Mafioso in Forsaken, not in Dream game.]

Well, the rest is up to you. Stay safe and hope you have a great day :]

-Phalpelisk

Ooo, what a good little prompt I've been fed today~ And tbh, I can't even really find much about dream game aside from fan-stuff so I always just assume Forsaken with Mafioso... (Seriously, where do I even start-)

Reader gets She/They~

Do you regret it? Probably not.

Even getting indirectly involved with the Mafia would've been too dangerous for your tastes. You did what you had to do to make sure he wouldn't be looking for you.

You had faked your death, started over with a new identity, even dying your hair and wearing lenses along with a brand new closet. Though you always had a hat on that shrouded your face in shadows just to be sure.

Nowadays you were just a bartender taking care of the unfortunate and letting them air out their frustrations for the night while you collected tips for your sweet attitude. It was hard to act like that at times but you've never lived better!

But back when you were still younger... You sometimes catch yourself still thinking about your best friend. You felt bad leaving him behind but you didn't want to be seen as his accomplice or anything if push came to shove. You were too scared to let that happen.

Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he was now. Maybe he stuck to the Mafia business? Or maybe he could've changed? Was that possible?

As you thought on such manners in the quiet of the evening, you heard the bells of the door ring their gentle tune. It was him...

You hadn't expected to find him strolling by your workplace but tried to keep your composure. He didn't look too different from when you last saw him and you could always play off your anxiousness- if he noticed it- by pointing out the fact he was a mafia boss or just his looks... Was he known as a mafia boss even? Maybe it was time you invested yourself in the news more...

"Gonna need a Tom Collins..." He sighed, sitting down as you began mixing without a second thought.

Tom Collins... Gin, lemon juice, some simple syrup, a club soda and some ice with a little lemon wedge and cherry for garnish. It's actually one of your favourites...

As you shook your shaker with the ingredients, you couldn't help but notice his tone. "Long day, huh?" You somehow managed to keep a calm voice as you spoke up, straining your current mixture into his ice-filled glass and topped it with the soda and garnishes. "Nothing a little gin and lemon can't fix though, right?" You tried to keep it lighthearted, your sweet act going right past him as he began drinking.

"Just on the hunt for someone." He suddenly chuckled, catching you off-guard. Mafioso was always someone who could somehow see right through you and made you feel predictable. Though you blamed that on him having known you for practically an eternity.

Although, curiosity was practically your second nature. "Oh? Anyone special?" You asked casually, refilling his glass as you figured he might need a couple glasses before even getting tipsy... Well, at least you could probably get away with being casual considering your fake identity.

Except... He knew. "Just an old friend... Faked her own death." He looked up at you to note your slight slip-up in hesitation.

Even though you tried to play it off as simply wanting to see the time, keeping on your signature sweetness as though it was nothing as you continued. "She must be important then, to have someone look for her even so." You faked a chuckle, it all went right past him.

Your act was like glass to him. It frustrated him a little that he couldn't break through it and keep you to himself like he initially planned but he needed you to slip-up so he knew he was stalking the right you.

And you were basically giving him just that as he went on. "One way to put it. Not like I can blame her but she didn't do that good of a job covering her tracks." You couldn't see it but you could hear the smugness in his tone as you hesitated again to subconsciously think about your steps back then.

You felt your heart race as you knew you were caught but still attempted to shake it off in hopes he didn't catch on... Which he did...

"Is that so?" Seriously- How were you keeping such a casual tone despite being caught red-handed? "Any leads then?"

Your nervousness only grew when you heard him chuckle. It felt more menacing than anything. "Just your newfound sweetness... Your acting's better though." He sounded satisfied with himself, taking one last sip of his glass before handing you his card.

"You can run the tab on this and meet me outside. I'll be sure to speak to your boss so you won't have to worry." He got up and allowed you to see his smirk, making you sigh in defeat as your act dropped. At least the other patrons were all already tipsy or drunk enough to not intervene or report this...

You quickly run his card and let him type in the pin as you made your way around to the back where you could change to your usual outfit.

A knee-length dress that you simply had worn today because it made you feel cute, thigh highs to keep your legs warm and a pair of comfortable but fancy looking shoes to match the dress... What luck-

Getting outside, he had been waiting for you by an oddly casual looking car and approached as soon as your eyes met.

"Feel free to smoke a bit until I'm back." He simply said as he handed you a pack of cigarettes and a lighter before heading inside, leaving you no room to question him.

But with a huff, you did light yourself one and began smoking to calm your nerves. How did he even find you? Did he hire someone?

The thought made you shiver slightly but you went further ahead and decided to have a look at his car.

All black, even inside. Slightly tinted windows, a bunny- A BUNNY???

"Ya like him?" His sudden appearance made you practically jump as you dropped your cigarette. "His name's Gubby, you can hold him on the drive if you'd like." He didn't even really acknowledge the cigarette so you subtly stomped on it and quietly nodded before walking around to get in the passenger side.

Gubby practically bounced forward to meet you, sniffing your hands and squeaking happily as you pet him. It was pretty cute...

Almost makes you forget you're basically being kidnapped by your old best friend-

You must've been subconsciously smiling on the quiet ride as Gubby nudged himself against your fingers if you stopped petting him for even a second.

"Feels good not to act?" Mafioso snapped you out of your thoughts and you sheepishly nodded, realizing you've been letting down your guard already. Not like he didn't know.

"I just can't figure out how you managed to figure me out." You sighed, giving into Gubby's demands for affection again. "I got a new identity, dyed my hair and cut it- I even got contacts!" Your little pouts seemed to amuse the man you had known.

"I had a little help but it wasn't too hard to pick up a trail when looking through some old documents." Another shiver ran down your spine. Did the Mafia have access to government files or something? Sounds hard to believe...

Once you seemed to be close to your destination, Mafioso handed you a blindfold and looked at you expectantly. "I'm taking you to my hideout but I'm not having you remembering the way in or out in case anything happens." He sounded more serious and firm and honestly? You didn't have the energy to argue today so you just wrapped the blindfold around your eyes and used the little space below your eyes to just focus on Gubby instead. At least someone in this car can enjoy themself that way...

It was maybe half an hour to an hour of just hearing the engine of the car and the radio playing some songs from a CD Mafioso had on him. You kinda liked it even though it wasn't your usual cup of tea so you allowed yourself to hum along, much to his amusement.

"Glad you like it, [Reader]. It's really the only music I got available." You shrugged in response, trying to get used to your old name again.

It felt... Odd. You were so used to your new life but your old name was both comforting and eerie to hear... Especially out of an old friend's mouth...

But when the car finally stopped, you almost instinctively scooped up Gubby and held him in your arms as you waited for Mafioso to guide you again... Since you- ya know- STILL COULDN'T SEE-

Instead, he decided to lift you out of the car and carry you in a bridal carry as you practically clung onto Gubby to avoid him falling off. Not a single word fell from either of you though as you tried to listen around in confusion.

When the blindfold was finally off, you were greeted by the sight of Mafioso's goons... Who all seemed very curious about your appearance as you were finally let down to the ground and one of them took Gubby off your hands to let you move your arms again.

"This is [Reader], as you all know..." Did he talk about you? Wait- did they help Mafioso find you??? "They're staying with us indefinitely." waitwhat-

"Hold on- Indefinitely??" You questioned in shock, noticing the goons looking a little nervous as Mafioso sighed. "Yes, indefinitely. I put in a lot of work to find you and I'm not risking that again so we'll have your stuff brought here. You'll be taken care of so you won't have to worry." He sounded way too calm for your tastes but were you really in the mood to argue with a mafia boss? Nope.

With a groan, you began following the goons to your new room as they struck up conversation, asking about you and talking about themselves before letting it slip...

"Boss was pretty careful to make sure you didn't notice him following ya-" The goon was pretty quickly shut up by the others in a panic as you stared at them in confusion and slight anxiousness. "What does that mean?" You demanded to know, practically clawing at your own arms to not freak out right now.

"Ah- well-" Their mingled explanations were barely audible over each other so you stomped your foot once and the sound was luckily loud enough to get their attention back to you and allow you to speak.

And for once, you had a pretty mean glare on that managed to make them hesitant. You were able to drive a little fear into them and they were beginning to see how you and Mafioso fit together. "I'm not dealing with a headache today so I want one simple explanation, even if it's fake. I'm not driving myself to paranoia over not having a solid explanation for what you mean when you said he followed me." Your tone was firm and frustrated.

They all looked between each other nervously before one of them decided to step forward and satisfy your curiosity. "Well, we only found out you two had been friends recently. He told us you were someone dear to him and we were to help him find you at a set time each day. When he finally found you he had some of us visit you in disguises to find out what he wanted but because you put up an act he decided to go himself."

You stared at them for a while, trying to process their words until sighing and letting your shoulders slump. They took that as satisfaction and all sighed in relief. You could tell they were at least half-truthful but...

Were you really that important for Mafioso to hunt you down like that?

Who were you kidding, this is the most stubborn man you've ever known. It wasn't unrealistic to make yourself believe that Mafioso was just that stubborn to find you after your supposed slip-up in your plan years ago.

Still, you never wanted this! You've faked your death and created a new identity for yourself to get away from Mafia business! Not be dragged into it!

Sighing, you let the goons lead you to your room again and you were actually kinda surprised to find out it was decorated to your liking. It was mostly based on stuff you used to like back then but those things you still enjoy today so maybe Mafioso made a lucky guess in the new stuff. It would be more touching if you weren't basically the main character in a mafia romance novel.

No, you told yourself you wouldn't act like one. Never. That was way too cringe for your liking but at least you could finally lie down again.

You immediately noticed the comfort in the plush bed as you flopped down with the goons leaving behind a button and telling you to press it if you need help before disappearing. You didn't know what it would do but knowing Mafioso, it probably had a tracker or something in it. Whatever...

Back to the bed, it was comfortable enough to tempt you to fall asleep right then and there. It was the closest you've ever felt to sleeping on a cloud. But you couldn't let that distract you.

Especially not when you heard tiny scratches at your door and were almost excited to open it. You knew it was Gubby and you were more than happy to have him join you. He was in your lap on the bed in mere seconds with you happily scratching between his ears.

"Maybe this won't be so bad if you keep me company, right?" You said playfully, enjoying the little squeaks to comfort yourself for what felt like hours.

What have you been doing for that time? Daydreaming of course.

What about? Hey, you're the reader here, you think of it yourself lmao-

Nonetheless, you were a little embarrassed when you were brought back to reality by the door opening and Mafioso stepping through with a sigh and slight chuckle. "[Reader], I think you're starting to copy Gubby..." Was all he brought out for you to notice you and the bunny both had the same expression while looking at him. And you couldn't stifle your giggling for long as Gubby began jumping in front of you and squeaking in protest, his hind legs stomping against the plush bed in anger.

If only you knew the full extent of the lengths he went to to find you...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

#forsaken roblox #forsaken #roblox forsaken #forsaken x reader #forsaken x y/n #mafioso forsaken #forsaken mafioso #yandere mafioso #mafioso x reader

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ggidolsmuts · 3 days ago

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Fromis App Part 17 (Final): Exit Strategy - Fromis_9 Seoyeon, Jisun, Jiwon, Hayoung, Nagyung, Saerom

A/N: Use the !. @. #. $. %. to quickly skip to the idol you want to read, it's in the order they appear in the title and below.

Seoyeon, Jisun, Jiwon, Hayoung, Nagyung, and Saerom.

One, two, three, four, five, six... and seven. The group Kakao chat is flooded with celebrations and congratulations. Baby storks will be visiting the employees of Fromis App in a few months time, and it's all thanks to you. How did it get to that point though? It all started with a meeting...

"Hey oppa."

"Hey Saerom, what's everyone doing here?"

"Oh, we thought it's best everyone is here for the meeting."

"You never told me what it's about, and Chaeyoung was evasive." You look around, and realize Chaeyoung isn't here, oddly enough. "Where is she anyways?"

"Home, I assume, or shopping for new clothes." Saerom claps her hands and gets everyone's attention. "Meeting's starting!"

"So, as most of you know, the Fromis company is being bought out, and the FROMIS app will be absorbed into their platform."

"Is... That good or bad?" you ask Saerom.

"Good, we get paid out very nicely. However, a condition of the pay out is that we stay on, golden handcuffs, if you will."

"I see." The other employees look bored, like none of this is news to them—Nagyung is on her laptop, Jisun's on her phone, and Seoyeon is writing in her notebook. "Why am I here then? I'm not an employee."

"I'm getting to that. As I said, we have to stay on, but there's a way around it, and we want you to help us."

"Help you?"

"Yes. There's a way we can stop working but still fulfill the golden handcuffs requirement, and that is if we go on maternity leave."

"Maternity leave, how am I—" You stop yourself mid-sentence, the blood suddenly pounding in your ears.

"Word around the office is you're having plenty of sex with all of us, and you added Chaeyoung to the list recently?" You suddenly felt put on the spot, like you've been caught with your hand (or cock, in this case) in the cookie jar.

"Umm, yes."

"Then we're all set. We've gone off birth control, so just keep doing what, or who I guess, you're doing, and just let things happen naturally."

"Right. Uhh, what if I can't make it happen? I haven't gotten tested or anything to make sure, you know, that everything works."

"Oh no no, we've tested you. You're very potent. You've only had sex with Chaeyoung once right?"

"Right, one night, but it was er, multiple times."

"Close enough, you're batting a hundred percent then."

"You mean—" The gears in your head turn just slow enough for Saerom to fill in the blank for you.

"Yes, that's why she isn't here, she's already on leave."

"And you're sure I did it?"

"You're the only guy she's slept with in months, so we're very sure. First time she gets some, and bam."

"Huh, okay, I guess that's good? What happens if all of you go on maternity leave though, can the company still run?"

"Yes yes, we have Jiheon our maknae, she can handle things, she's very good." Saerom dismisses your concerns. "That's all from me. Anyone else?" You spy someone fidgeting from the corner of your eye, but Saerom continues. "No? We're done then, this was more for you to know than anything, everyone else already understands and agrees." As they begin to file out, you call them back.

"Wait, I think Seoyeon's ready."

"Ready for?" You walk over to Seoyeon, and she doesn't resist when you pull her out of her chair.

"For us to go public." You bend her over the conference table, kissing her as the others gasp. You feel under her skirt, smiling into the kiss—she's not wearing any underwear. "This is what we've been doing in the building the whole time. We've just kept it under wraps." You shimmy your pants and boxers down, rubbing your cock against her slit before pulling it away briefly, just to show them how shiny Seoyeon has already made it. There are no gasps this time, just everyone holding their breaths, focused on the lewd scene unfolding in front of them.

"But since we all know what's going to be happening from now on, I don't think there's any need to hide what we do, is there Seoyeon?"

"No..." It comes out as a brittle sigh, her pussy clenching around your shaft sliding in. "It's okay if they see now. See how you use me, how I use you." She tilts her head, reaching for your neck as you continue pumping into her from behind. She sucks on your skin, leaving marks unabashedly on you.

"We should give them a better view," she whispers.

"Hold on then." Seoyeon leans back, rolling up her skirt and wrapping her hands around your neck. With a grunt you stand and lift her by her spread knees, showing everyone just how you're splitting her open. The atmosphere in the room immediately gets charged with arousal—to see you so openly lifting and fucking their petite colleague in an obvious show of virility and strength is causing their imaginations to run wild, about what you would do to them. You start moving slowly, pulling out almost all the way before pumping upward into her, to emphasize your cock disappearing into Seoyeon's fertile body.

"Ohh fuck, that's so deep!" Seoyeon cries out, getting into the act of being fucked so brazenly. Before, the thrill of getting caught was what turned her on—the danger of letting a moan leak, a squelch of her pussy if she's inevitably too wet and fucked too fast, the ability to hear others talking nearby, oblivious to your illicit act with her. But now, Seoyeon's finding the rush of being openly watched just as enticing—she's whining and whimpering, so wet that she's dripping down your balls, and she can see her colleagues looking at her. None of them are even moving, let alone trying to leave or hide their eyes, no they're openly watching, and getting aroused.

Getting aroused due to Seoyeon.

"Nngh I'm cumming!" All of them watch Seoyeon's legs shake helplessly in your arms as you ram an orgasm up through her, her head thrown back against your shoulder, a heel dangling loosely off one foot. In minutes you've wrecked her oh-so-perfectly, taking her apart so easily that there leaves little doubt in their minds—you're going to make them all cum their brains out while you breed them.

"Alright, tell me when," you mumble into Seoyeon's ear, ramping up your thrusting, bouncing her up and down a little to really drive yourself deep into her.

"Now please!" You let Seoyeon slip down slightly, and she is impaled deep on your cock as you unload into her. The others gasp as they watch a spurt of cum leak out from around your shaft—just how much did you cum that you're immediately leaking out of her? Seoyeon's low moan of satisfaction rumbles against your chest as you continue pumping potent seed into her. You draw your hips back, and lifted over the conference table Seoyeon shows them just how much you've left in her—a repeated thudding sound is heard as drop after thick drop of semen hit the table, staining the black varnish white.

You put Seoyeon back down, and she manages to straighten her skirt and fix her tousled hair a little before sitting down and cleaning the cumstain she just left, trying to pretend as if everything was normal.

"Let me know if you need another Seoyeon," you say, as if you're referring to the tissue paper you just handed her, rather than the baby you put in her.

"Sure, thanks oppa," she answers just as casually.

Seoyeon did ask you for more, but it was quickly clear that the first round got the job done, and she sent the group the first positive test to many cheers.

Jisun was the second one to send the group a positive test, but it came in the most surprising of ways—you finished using a condom!

"F-Fuck my ass, fuck it hard oppa!" Your arms burn as you ram the dildo hard into her ass. It was a compromise—Jisun wanted you in her ass, but that would be counterproductive to being reproductive, so she settled for damming herself on top of your cock as you filled her ass "manually". You could feel the dildo going through her, rubbing against your cock basically, but what's more enticing is Jisun's tits, dangling right in front of you like juicy melons as she arches her back on each deep thrust into her ass.

"Oh— Oh yes, suck on them!" You do just that, leaving her pointed tips shiny and dripping. Speaking of shiny and dripping, Jisun lifts her hips briefly, showing you just how slick your cock and the dildo have become before slamming herself back down on you.

"Fuck!" She screams as she double-penetrates herself. Jisun kisses you, grinding herself on your cock, rocking her hips back and forth, making both cock and dildo pump into her like a well-lubed engine. "Wish you could cum in both my holes..."

"Could go a second round, make you a runny mess down there." You squeeze handfuls of her chest, showing her just how little you would mind doing that.

"You think you could? Don't you— Hnngh! Need to save some for the others?"

"You can cook me something healthy and hearty, give me more energy after." You keep Jisun hips down, keeping her hilted on you as you sit up, allowing you to slam the dildo over and over into her ass. She slumps into you as she cums.

"Oh god my ass... Is all this just a ploy to get me to cook for you?" she asks, hair tickling your cheeks as she nuzzles you.

"Maybe, you are the best cook out of all of them, unless you think otherwise."

"How dare you, of course I am!" Jisun leaves a hickey on you in revenge. "God, such a Casanova aren't you? Sleeping around with everyone, and then judging their cooking after?" You kiss her harshly in response, her lips rosy red from your passionate indignance.

"Says the pure and chaste lady who agreed to be bred by me in a group effort, and has both her holes plugged up right now?"

"Fair." She sighs as you begin moving the dildo again—you didn't mind just staying inside Jisun, letting yourself last as long as you could as you played with her ass. "Best cook, what else am I the best at?"

"You have the best thighs." You run your hands up and down her juicy thighs, squeezing them.

"Don't let Saerom hear that."

"Best tits." You definitely take the chance to squeeze those, hearing her gasp as you flick her nipples.

"Don't let Hayoung hear that."

"Best pussy." You grind up into her, hearing her whine.

"Don't let any of them hear that."

"Best ass." You're gripping her cheeks, kneading them appreciatively.

"Don't let Chaeyoung hear that."

"Hm, best ass that let's me play with it." You apply a bit of pressure to the dildo, pushing it that little bit deeper and feeling Jisun tighten in response.

"Good point, but I think you're missing something."

"Am I?"

"Yup." Jisun leans in close, nibbling at your earlobe as she humps you. "Best mommy."

"Yeah? You think you'll be the best mother?"

"Not mother, mommy." You groan as her pussy contracts around you tightly—Jisun never skipped on her kegels. "Best at getting herself knocked up. I'm going to drain you right now, then I'm going to feed you, and then I'm going to drain you again."

"Fuck Jisun that sounds good." She was barely moving or bouncing on top of you, and yet your cock feels like it's getting tugged on, pulled on over and over to try and get your cum out of you.

"Yeah? Does it feel good? Does trying to make me a mommy feel good?" Jisun's breathing heavily too—your hand never stopped moving, fucking her ass with slow thrusts of the dildo.

"Yes, fuck yes Jisun!"

"Then cum, give me that thick cum you've stored up, give— Hnngh!" Jisun takes it from you, cumming from the anal stimulation, and her suddenly uncontrollable tightening around your shaft has you launching your potent load up into her. She collapses on top of you, her chest cushioning her fall and pressed against you, your heartbeats thundering in tandem. As you soften you feel your crotch get warmer, your load beginning to leak out of her.

"Can I feed you later?" Jisun asks quietly.

"You don't have to, I was kidding about the whole cooking thing."

"No, not that... I know we shouldn't waste any of it, but I really want you in my ass."

"No one else has to know, if you really want it."

"Okay." Without a second word Jisun slips down your body, her plump lips around your shaft promptly, cleaning you and getting you hard again. Your eyes are closed, enjoying her cleanup effort. You even let out a decadent moan when you feel your cock get squished between two comfortable pillows—Jisun's really trying to get you as hard as you can. You only open your eyes when you hear a crinkle.

"Condom?"

"Just in case I want you to plug the leak." She turns around to show you, her lightly parted lips still dripping with your load, and right above it, the dildo still deep in her. "But what are you waiting for?"

Jisun has a point. You pull the dildo out of her with little ceremony and plug the gaping hole immediately, a deep groan bursting from her lungs as you push the air out of her. You're definitely deeper in her compared to the dildo, because her reactions to you pumping in and out of her now are nothing like before—her cries are loud and unadulterated, flesh rippling as you pump into her ass. Jisun pushes her hips against you, trying to get you deeper into her, and you lift her slightly, her knees almost off the bed when you pull and yank her small juicy body against you.

"Hnngh fuck! Don't stop, open me up!" You slap a hand on her cheek and pull, making Jisun's hole stretch that little bit more. "Oh god I missed this, missed a real cock in my ass." She whines when you pull out, and looking past where you're plugged in her ass you see the puddle of cum get bigger by the moment, each thrust making her clench and shake, causing more to drip out. "Uhff!" she's huffing, groaning as you stretch out her second hole. You lean over her, grabbing a breast and squeezing it, playing with her stiff tip.

"Such a handful, literally," you snarl and kiss her wanting lips. "Wasting a perfectly good load too."

"Sorry, ah, sorry!" You slap her thighs, red handmark planted conspiciously on her thigh—no short dresses for Jisun for a while, and then for a few months after. You pull on her tits, squeezing them and leaving them red too. Jisun isn't a glutton for punishment, but she doesn't mind at all when you get a little rough, her soft flesh jiggling perfectly to absorb everything you have for her.

"Just cum with my cock in your ass already." You pull back to the very tip before slamming home into Jisun's ass, and she detonates with a choked cry. She shivers underneath you, anal walls gripping you tighter than ever, and you simply let yourself go, your throbbing cock pushing against her contractions, filling the condom fully. You land on top of her, and her arms give way, the two of you collapsing on the bed.

"Ah... fucking unbelievable..." Jisun sighs, kissing your cheek.

"Remember, no more anal until the job's done."

"I know I know. Just, just leave it in me for a little longer."

When you finally pull out, you're soft, and devilishly you leave the condom in her ass.

"Take it out, it's going to spill out if I sit up!" Jisun whines.

"No, now you have two loads in your holes, just like you wanted." You stay the night, and your nose wakes up to the smell of Jisun's delicious cooking the next morning. To both you and Jisun's pleasant surprise, a few weeks later her test comes back positive even if your final load with her ended up in a rubber.

Buoyed by Jisun's meal the third positive reading came quite quickly after the second...

"About time you came over, my stocks aren't doing so well, so I need another line to be going up." Jiwon flashes her prepared pregnancy kits at you.

"I'll try my best." Jiwon's hands land on your shoulders, gently squeezing you, pulling you close... And then she pauses, nose crinkling.

"Jisun?"

"Yeah, I spent the night with her."

"Do you need to take a day off today? It's no good trying and trying and not getting enough rest." You hold Jiwon's hands, interlocking fingers with her before letting them drift down her palms and to her wrists, growling as you watch them go limp.

"No, Jisun made me a delicious meal, and I'm ready to have another one." Jiwon's eyes flutter shut, ready to be eaten. She sighs when you breath on her neck, and she's trembling in your hands—a fertile Jiwon is simply ready to be devoured. "You don't want me to take a day off do you? You want this so bad."

"Y-Yeah, I, I really want it." It leaves her as a whimsper, a whimper and a whisper. You're happy to take your time kissing Jiwon, her hands resting on your shoulders as you move yours down her body, feeling her curves through her dress. "Please, let's go to the bed."

"Okay." Jiwon's eager, and she jumps into you, wrapping her legs around your hips. But almost immediately she lets herself down, an alert ringing in from her home office. "Oh, let me just check—"

"No." You hug her from behind, making her feel what she's responsible for against her lower back. "What are you doing?"

"The US markets, they just opened over there, let me check my investments—"

"No, not tonight." You re-wrap your arms around Jiwon, pinning them to her sides. "Just hold and let things... grow." A hand runs down to her belly, and Jiwon shudders as you press firmly down on her, where she's going to grow.

"Just let me take a quick look—"

"Fine." You lift Jiwon, carrying her to her office and plopping yourself in her chair with her in your lap. "You have one minute." Jiwon's hands shoot forward to her keyboard, and your hands are not idle either, pulling her dress up.

"30 seconds," you hiss, feeling the immediate bare skin between Jiwon's thighs—no panties, god, she's just begging to be bred at this point.

"It hasn't even been 30 seconds yet!"

"I don't care." You pull Jiwon's dress up further and manage to shimmy your bottoms off just enough to pull your hardness out. "5 seconds." You're already sliding into her.

"Hnngh wait, ah!" You push yourself off the chair, tipping Jiwon forward against the desk. "Bed, bed!"

"Can't wait," you're grunting, hand slipping under the side of her dress and pawing at her chest. Maybe it's Jisun's meal, or the sight of Jiwon in what is effectively a honeymoon dress, but you feel your thoughts slipping away. "Fucking you now."

Jiwon isn't fairing much better, the graphs and tickers on her screen blurring with every thrust into her. She's already forgotten what she wanted to do, why she needed to look at the market today. All she can feel is your cockhead pressing right against her womb, your hands firmly around her hips—she's not going anywhere until she's thoroughly "invested" in.

"Oh god, right there, you're so deep, too deep!" Her face is pressed into the keyboard, leaving imprints on her cheek but hopefully not actually triggering any hotkeys on her computer. Your breath is hot in her ear, huffing as you shake the desk, slamming into her from behind. Briefly you feel her flail her legs against you before she hiccups cutely and goes limp. You spy her expression as you kiss her cheek—Jiwon's eyes are rolled into her head, mouth open, drooling on to her keyboard. A warm spray of her juice splatters against your thighs—she's your prey, conquered and submitting to the pleasure, to her desires both carnal and biological. With a satisfied growl you press yourself over her, and Jiwon whines as her womb is filled with thick, almost syrupy, semen, laden with virility. Her mind's playing tricks on her, but Jiwon almost feels heavier when she's pulled back on to the chair on top of you.

"I expect rapid growth from you."

"Me too," Jiwon leans back against you, sighing into your neck. "Feels so thick, like it's never going to come out..." She's playing with the little bit leaking from her pussy.

"That's the goal. Do you need to do anymore checking?"

"No, it's a lost day already. The money's made in the opening minutes." Jiwon wraps her arms around your neck, pouting a little. "Take me to bed, I'm going to need... an injection of liquidity."

You carry her to the bedroom, and Jiwon pushes you away with a giggle once you get there. She makes a show of removing her dress, a bit of pointless flirting as you're already hard again at the sight of the complete lack of underwear underneath and your previous load sliding down the inside of her thighs.

"You know," you're on top of her now, her thighs loosely spread for you—she already wants more. "I'm thinking this might not be a good investment, you're staying up late all the time, ignoring your agreed upon responsibilities to check the market. Where's the condom, I might need to protect my investment." It's a fake threat, and like a magnet your cock is already drawn to Jiwon's warm core, entering her with a smooth thrust.

"No! I'll be good, I promise."

"What do you promise? I hope you're not making risky trades."

"No, no more risky trades, no more crypto, only safe investments from now on."

"Crypto? Oh no, that's very risky. I really might need a condom." You tease her, hands playing with her chest once more—not big, but they're plenty fun handfuls.

"No, no more. I'll be safe so..." Jiwon wraps her legs around your back, locking you in. "Please do me raw."

"Always," you groan as you pull and push back into her, her wetness and tightness and creaminess almost overwhelming you—damn Jiwon is needy right now. Every gasp and sigh is designed to pump blood to your cock, every drag of her nails across your back primally calculated to get your balls to start producing more sperm, every squeeze of her thighs around you fundamentally insistent on getting you to leave her a bubbling fertilized mess.

You do just that.

"Oh god, right there, fuck me right there, please cum, give me cum, I want it, I want it I want it I want it—" Jiwon yelps when you slam into her and then don't move. She hears the raw growl that rips from your throat, and then feels the sudden burst of warmth inside her, and she's tipped over the edge one last time. She loses herself, contracting around you, the bed instantly wet as she squirts uncontrollably with a loud wail. The rush of fluids over your cock make you fuck her even harder, sending the last few potent shots of cum even deeper into her.

"So warm, so happy..." Jiwon sighs at the creamy mess your connection has become, a weight lifted off her back and perhaps growing elsewhere in her.

"You made such a mess."

"Your fault, I can't help it, you make me feel so good, I get so wet, and then it just happens."

"Well, there's going to be quite a few messes to clean up soon, good to get some practice now." Jiwon blushes a vivid pink at the thought.

"Hopefully you're right."

While you waited on Jiwon's positive test, you got to work on Hayoung's, and work it was, considering the time and place of it happening.

"You want to do it... here?" You're somehow back in the security room, having Hayoung drag you through the gradually emptying out hallways of the company. She's somehow pulled a whole couch into the security room. "Where did you even get this?"

"Lounge, with people leaving and you knocking some of us up and out, we don't really need it in the lounge anymore, so I thought, why not?"

"That's true, but why'd you ask me here?"

"Why do you think?" Hayoung pushes you to the couch, a playful tilt to her voice.

"You really want to do it here?"

"Why not, we've done it plenty of times here."

"I guess, just figured you'd want some place more private."

"This is plenty private, besides, where else can we have so much screen space." Before you can ask what she means by that, she pulls up multiple recordings—the time you fucked Jiwon in Saerom's office, the few indiscretions you had with Seoyeon, the other time you fucked in Saerom's office, except this time it was Nagyung. Front and center though, was the recording from when you bred Seoyeon right there in front of all of them in the conference room.

"Hmm, I guess this is more than appropriate," you murmur as Hayoung settles in front of you, allowing you to wrap an arm around her. It was almost like a intimate movie night, except the movie was porn.

"Yeah, what's one more fuck in the office?" Hayoung turns to kiss you passionately, and your hand slips under her shirt, her smooth skin raising goosebumps in the cold whirr of the security room AC.

"Mm, what's one more baby made in the office?" You undo her pants, and Hayoung quickly shimmies it off as you get rid of your own jeans. Your hand dives underneath her thin panties, feeling her wetness—she's ready.

"Ah, just do me like this, do me while we watch the videos." You kick off your boxers and pull her panties to the side, and leisurely you slide into Hayoung, her raised leg resting on yours a little awkwardly to give you access.

"Is that comfortable?"

"It'll be fine, just stay in me." The couch creaks slightly as you start moving, pushing in and out of Hayoung best you could. Underneath her shirt you push her bra up, palming her pebbled tips, and she sighs contentedly. "That's nice, keep doing it."

Watching the security footage of you fucking the other employees, neither of you hurry, slowly getting both of you wetter and harder as time passes.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask her.

"Wondering what they were feeling, what they thought as it happened? I wonder what Seoyeon and Jisun felt when you did it."

"Having second thoughts?"

"No, just, it's nice to share you, but I also wonder what they felt."

"You really are an F. What about you, what are you feeling?"

"Feels nice, but also um, nervous? Like I know this is peak fertility for me right now and— Oh!" Hayoung gasps as she feels you twitch inside her, getting a little bigger. "You like that?"

"Yeah, you never wondered about how I felt?" She blushes a little, looking almost ashamed.

"Not really? Not my best F moment."

"I'll tell you later, you said you are nervous?" Hayoung's starts unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her delectable chest to you, her bra misplaced thanks to your hands.

"Yeah, it should feel different right, but how different would it feel, and don't accidents happen? So that means it didn't feel different, so I'm not sure—" You kiss Hayoung to quiet her, pulling her leg over your hips, trying to angle yourself deeper into her.

"How did that feel?"

"Good, you're really deep." Hayoung's hand drifts down to her tummy, and you join her there, letting her guide you to gently press on her lower abdomen. "You're like... here or something."

"Does this feel different?" You nudge forward, trying to reach even deeper, until you can't go any further, pushing against the end of Hayoung. You can tell it does, her breath catching in the kiss. "That's where I'll be when I cum." Hayoung clenches around you in response, she realizes what the difference is—intent. The accidents are merely a possible consequence of unprotected sex, but now, Hayoung's actively trying, and you're very actively trying to knock her up. A thrill runs up her spine, and Hayoung's sensitivity spikes immensely.

"Yes it does feel different, you're so, ah, hard!" All of a sudden Hayoung's pussy is milking you, contracting around you like she's on edge.

"Yeah? You like it more now?"

"Yes, it's so hot, oh fuck." Hayoung suddenly feels far too hot in the cold security room, she's going into some sort of heat. "T-Tell me how it feels for you!"

"It feels better than regular sex, you get extra sticky inside, so nice to thrust into."

"Hnngh more, tell me more!"

"It's so hot when you tell me you're fertile, and I don't have to tell you when I'm close, because there's no fucking doubt where I'm going to finish, you're practically begging for it."

"Yes I- I am, I will! Did the others beg too?"

"In their own ways." Hayoung's begging for your cum in her own way, legs and arms trying to loop around your hip and shoulders and through your limbs, as if tying herself to you so you can't pull out. "Seoyeon scratches the hell out of me, Jisun drains me with both holes. You know the best part?"

"What is it?"

"They cum extra hard, they love it so much it feels so good, and then I— fuck!" The mere thought of cumming hard has Hayoung writhing against you, and she's dragging you down with her, forcing you to do just as you planned to describe. Hayoung feels it briefly before the stars take her—you exploding deep inside her, filling her womb with potential life! She's not sure if she's screaming or not, but by the time she comes down, her throat is strained raw, her limbs like jelly, and yet she feels fulfilled, satisfied at the deep breaths you take against her neck.

"Fuck, I cum just like that," you manage. You continue grinding your hips into Hayoung mindlessly, trying to drain your balls fully inside her.

"Wow, it feels like that every time?"

"Yeah, we'll do it as many times as needed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Until we get a positive." Slowly Hayoung gets on top of you, a small grin on her face.

"You have a loophole, I'm just never getting a test then."

"I guess we'll have to keep trying then." A few strokes from Hayoung is enough to get you hard again, and her creamy warmth envelopes you this time.

"I guess so, and this time, we're going to film it."

Hayoung did eventually do a test, and much to the surprise of a few people (including you) who opened the message in public, Hayoung attached a "home recording" of the process to the message too. Regardless, Hayoung was satisfied biologically if not hedonistically (she tried to get you to film the others even), but you could focus on those who come after. And poetically, just like the first time you found FROMIS app, as if it was written, Saerom and Nagyung demanded to do it with you, together.

"Oppa, wait till you see what we brought."

"I'm already the luckiest guy in the world, you don't need to tell me I got luckier."

"Well, we might need a little bit more luck. It's never a guarantee, but we'll try to stack the odds in our favor," Nagyung chirps, carrying two large grocery bags full of food and water.

"Stack the odds how? With those grocery bags?"

"That's just for the week. No Jissen cooked up some herbal tea for you, and some floral tea for us. I tried a sip and ugh, I had to do everything to make sure I had enough energy for tonight." As Saerom tells you that, you feel just how warm she is when she slips her arm around your elbow.

"Horny?"

"More than that, I got myself off like three times and it barely changed anything. It's all sticky and gooey, like I need someone to get in me and clean me out, to rub against me everywhere inside I— You're going to have to fuck me first," Saerom ends quietly, blushing at her own neediness.

"She made me promise not to drink it until after the first round, I don't know what Jisun unnie cooked but Saerom hasn't been quite right the whole day." You see how right Nagyung is when you get into the elevator—Saerom's practically rubbing against you, leaning into your body, hungry for skin-to-skin contact. As soon as you're inside Saerom's apartment she's on you, hands already lifting your t-shirt.

"Go ahead and get started, I'll make sure the fridge is well-stocked." Nagyung's only halfway through emptying the first bag of groceries when she hears Saerom's moan of relief.

"God unnie, you really couldn't wait could you?" Nagyung quickly pushes the entire second grocery bag into the fridge, slamming it shut behind her before she hurries to get in on the action.

"Nakko, it feels so good!" Saerom squeals in greeting. She's riding you in reverse cowboy, all of her clothes still on except for her panties. Saerom rolls her hips like no tomorrow, making sure your cock rubs against every inch of her walls, and Nagyung has the perfect view, watching Saerom's gooey cream coat your shaft liberally. Your arms hook Saerom's shoulders, pulling her back on to you in a great show of her flexibility, and Nagyung's round eyes almost pop when she sees the smallest of bulges between Saerom's legs, where your cock is jammed up against her front wall.

"God you're so fucking tight right now!" Saerom groans and grunts as you plow into her from below, her toned body bucking and bracing against the hold, trying to slam herself down on to you. She keeps asking you to fuck her harder, and the squelch between her legs gets lewder and lewder until things reach its natural climax. From Nagyung's point of view it is less an explosion and more of a bubbling over, your cum slowly leaking out of the connection, but internally Saerom is exploding, the pleasure driving her pussy to grip and milk you until you've painted every inch of her walls with cum.

"Wow, unnie, are you okay?"

"Never better. Get oppa his tea, and then it's your turn." You're quickly fed a cup of Jisun's herbal tea, and as soon as Nagyung's done stripping you're on her, mirroring Saerom's own aggressiveness.

"Fuck Nagyung, what's in that tea?" You can feel the blood rushing down your body and a tingling down there, like your reproductive system is working on Adderall or perhaps more appropriately, Red Bull. The warmth gathers between your legs, and the more you see Nagyung naked in front of you, the less brain function you have.

"I don't know, Jisun unnie made it. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, but I— Yeah I need to cum in you." Your mind is a little blunt, your actions even more so as you grab a handful of Nagyung's chest and squeeze.

"Looks like someone's ready," she purrs, and she manages to get on top of you. You throw your head back, the warmth of her walls almost cooling to the fire in your hips.

"Ohhh, yeah that's good, that feels good." To your tea-addled brain Nagyung's wrapped around you like she was always meant to be, but to Nagyung she feels like she's being spread, stretched, expanded, hollowed out, all the synonyms for "boring a hole straight to her womb" all at once.

"Nngh you're too big!" The blood rushing to your cock making you one large breeding stick buried deep in her.

"No, just almost too big." You grab Nagyung's tiny waist and begin moving her up and down your cock, leaving her wailing in intense pleasure. You're spreading her thin, stretching her walls and making sure you're hitting every spot that just lights her brain up.

"It's... Haah!" she tries to move her hips to keep up with you, but it's no use—her legs don't work, her muscle control no longer there as you overload her with bliss, and she hasn't even drunk the tea yet! She leans back, trying to get away from you a little. But it just makes things worse, you're push against her front walls like you did with Saerom earlier, grinding against her g-spot .

"Too much, it's too much unnie!" Nagyung wails to Saerom, who's now providing her with support, letting Nagyung lean against her while she's fucked up and into.

"You can do it, he's going to cum soon, he's going to cum so deep in you..." Nagyung can feel it too, your throbbing length pushing against her pussy, and she's responding in kind, clenching around you.

"I— Ahh!" Nagyung snaps, and she bucks so hard you slip out of her, to disastrous results. You're bucking as well in orgasm, and as you slip out everyone notices the effect of Jisun's tea—the strength and volume of your eruption is so great that your first shot of cum blasts them across the face. Subsequent shots land on Nagyung, staining her skin in white all over.

But you're not done.

"Move, get her the tea." You wave Saerom off, flipping Nagyung on her stomach, cum and all soiling the bedsheets.

"Oppa?"

"Haven't cum in her yet." Saerom watches you stroke yourself hard and quickly follows your order. She returns to find you proneboning Nagyung, hands on her lower back—this time you're not slipping out of her.

"So, hnngh, good..." Nagyung trails off, eyes rolling in her head. Despite her improved stamina over time, something about the way you're fucking her now is unmanageable. Her petite pixie body trembles as you bounce your hips off her again and again, and when you cum this time, you sink fully into Nagyung and growl.

"Take it all!" Her hands grip the sheets, tighter and tighter as you continue to fill her, until finally the heat becomes too much, she chokes a sigh out and goes limp. When you pull out you see that you've left her drooling from both holes—spit from one, cum from the other.

"God she's out again. What now?" Saerom asks. You spy the white trickle down the inside of her thigh, and the need to add to that trickle flares up.

"Want to go again? Grab one of mine?"

"Are you— Yeah, okay." Saerom almost wants to question you, but she stops short—you're sweaty, flushed with exertion from the latest round with Nagyung. You should be tired, spent, drained, yet you still want to knock her up, and it makes Saerom feel wanted like never before. When she comes back with your drink you make her wait, pulling her down next to you.

"Love shot."

"Cheesy." Saerom laughs before hooking her arm around yours, the two of you downing your shots of sex in one gulp. "It's so much stronger!" You feel a tug on your neck—she's pulling you down with her, chest heaving and legs spread.

"You okay?" You hover over Saerom, your eyes meet, and Saerom's pupils dilate right in front of you, her grip around your neck tensing.

"Yeah I— I need you. Put a baby in me." She's still more coherent than you, because all you can manage is a simple nod. You push in, groaning as you watch Saerom's abs flex—she's gripping you tighter than before! As soon as you're in she wraps her legs around you, and she's already bucking up into you, trying to get to the fucking right away. Saerom's so tight but so wet, so easy to push into, and both of you are delirious with need.

"Fuck me, fuck me harder!" she cries into your ear, and you slam into her, drawing out yelps of pleasure. The two of you are one organism, working in tandem to produce another. Saerom whines for you to get deeper, so you push her legs back, folding her in half and letting you plunge into her tightness fully. A dull twinge runs through Saerom—either from you thumping against her cervix or from her legs being pushed so far back, but it didn't matter, so long as you cum deep in her.

"Cumming," you grunt, and Saerom quickly plays with her clit, wanting to finish with you, to have her body drain you at the perfect time. Her ankles seize around your neck, holding you there as you pour a full load straight into her womb, drowning it with potent seed. Neither of you are done though, and after a short rest period of kissing and catching your breath in between the kisses, you're ready for more.

"Doggy." You're reduced to one word sentences, but Saerom follows your actions, letting you flip her around and pull her hips up. As soon are you're hard enough you start rutting into her, humping her like it was the only thing you knew how to do. You watch her ass and thighs jiggle against you, back muscles flexing in pleasure, and you need to see more of it, so you fuck her harder, getting bigger inside her as you're back to full hardness.

"That's it, fill me up again, need your baby—" Saerom feels it too, your thrusts reaching deeper into her again, the throbbing inside her pussy becoming more insistent. Saerom finds herself moaning into a sudden kiss, her head suddenly twisted to face you.

"Our baby." Saerom whimpers into your mouth, her emotions turned up to eleven. Pinned underneath you, her tongue thrashing against yours is the only way she can express her pleasure right now, and it is twisting and tangling, wanting every part of you to hold her down and breed her.

"Give it to me, I want our baby. Lock me down and knock me up."

"This is the one." The tea is wearing off, you're more coherent now, and there's only clarity as to what's going to happen.

"Yes!" Saerom simply agrees, gasping as you start thrusting even harder.

When it happens both of you burst into loud moans of satisfaction, hot virile seed rushing out of you and into her, the biological pressures of shooting and squeezing working to fill Saerom to the very brim and then some. You collapse on top of her, breathing heavily, leaving hickeys on her neck and more than a trickle down her thighs.

"You know, I'm so glad you found the app," Saerom whispers.

"I'm so glad you found me," you argue back, kissing her tenderly.

Fast forward to today, somehow the plan went off without a hitch, the company is doing fine, even doing some sort of a re-launch with a few employees that ended up sticking around, but that's none of your business anymore. You have a new FROMIS to care about.

Final ROMance Is Saerom.

A/N: That's a wrap to the series. I actually started thinking and planning this during Chaeyoung's chapter, but then time was cut short by the new Fromis comeback (go check that out!). Sadly I couldn't get this out before the comeback, but because of that I get to use that Jisun pic lol. I'll still write for the members, but just wanted to put a cap on the series. Thanks for reading!

#smut #fromis9 #seoyeon #jisun #jiwon #hayoung #nagyung #saerom

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stylishpaige · 2 days ago

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concussion; paige bueckers

paring: wnba paige bueckers x fem! oc

paige was laying her couch, hoodie half on, blanket barely covering her legs, remote in one hand and a stubborn little scowl on her face.

"i'm fine," she mumbled for the fifth time, eyes squinting at the tv screen like it was personally offending her.

"you're not fine," i said, walking in with a cold water bottle and the little blue ice pack she kept tossing to the side.

"bro," she muttered. "it's not even that bad."

i stood in front of her until she looked up.

"paige."

she sighed, dramatic, but soft. "yes, ma'am?"

"ice. now."

she took it with the most reluctant little grunt and held it to her temple. i sat down next to her and gently pulled the blanket around us.

"i don't need you babyin' me," she said, but her voice was already starting to slur a little from how tired she was.

"i'm not babying you," i whispered, brushing my fingers through her hair. "i'm loving you."

she got real quiet after that. just blinked slow and leaned her head against my chest. her favorite spot.

"this sucks," she mumbled.

"i know, baby."

"can't hoop. can't even go to film."

"but you can sit still and let your loving girlfriend take care of you."

she snorted, barely a smile. "you just like bossin' me around."

"you like it when i do."

she didn't argue.

i kissed her forehead, slow and soft. her skin was warm under the ice pack, her hand gripping mine like she was trying to pretend she wasn't needy. but i knew her too well for that.

"your head still hurt?" i asked.

"mmhm."

"you need anything?"

"just.. stay right here, with me."

so i did. turned off the tv. rubbed slow circles into her thigh. let her breathe against my neck like i was the only thing keeping her steady.

she shifted a little, just enough to meet my eyes. the room was quiet — no tv, no phone buzzing, no noise. just us.

paige looked at me like she was about to say something else, then stopped herself.

"what?" i asked softly.

she swallowed. blinked slow.

"i love you," she said, barely above a whisper.

my chest tightened in the best way.

i leaned in and kissed her — soft, still, like time paused just for this.

"i love you too," i whispered against her lips.

she exhaled, like she'd been holding that in for a while. then she smiled — real and sleepy and all hers.

"you mean it?"

"i wouldn't say it if i didn't."

"okay," she mumbled, letting her head fall back onto my chest. "cool. just makin' sure."

i laughed quietly and wrapped my arms around her.

she was asleep within minutes, fingers still tangled with mine, that little smile still on her face.

and i swear — in that moment, even with ice packs and headaches and all — everything felt right.

#paige bueckers fanfic #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #paige buckets #wlw post #paige x oc #paige x reader #kk arnold #aubrey griffin #azzi fudd #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #dallas wings #wnba basketball #ncaa wbb #wbb #paige bueckers uconn #uconn x reader #paige blockers

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petersluvbug · 14 hours ago

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Baby, I Loved You First

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・

⇨ 「pairing— bff!bob reynolds x fem!reader」

⇨ 「summary— bob’s been your best friend since you met him in the vault; you had an instant connection. he’s always been in love with you, but you’re too oblivious to see it, dating guys who don’t love you like bob does. but after months of watching and listening to you go on dates with random guys, bob finally has enough and tells you how he feels. what’s even better?? a storm brews in while he walks you to your date’s house.」

⇨ 「a/n— first fic on this account whoop whoop!! i’ve been obsessed with lewis pullman and thunderbolts* so i had to write for him. i haven’t written in a while so i’m a bit rusty pls bare with me. also this is kinda based on Loved You First by One Direction. i hope you enjoy!」

⇨ 「warnings— both think it’s unrequited (it’s definitely not), reader is OBLIVIOUS (but so is bob), slight mention of bob’s childhood, past addiction, & alcohol, bob’s HELLA jealous, angst, cursing, yearning!bob, fluffy ending yay!!, and i think that’s it」

⇨ 「word count— 5.5k」

You tried to sneak out of the tower unnoticed, you really did. But Bob caught you before you could even get near the elevator door, stopping you in your tracks. Geez, it was like he has a sixth sense or something.

“Where are you going?” He asked you nicely, not sternly or orderly, just politely asked you to see where you were going. You gave him a look, the look of I-know-exactly-what-you’re-doing and you weren’t going to give in. In his defense, he’s just being a good friend—your best friend—by looking out for you and making sure you’re safe.

“Out,” you responded, crossing your arms over your dress that was way too short in Bob’s opinion. You felt goosebumps crawl up your skin as Bob met your eyes and stared, and eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

He hummed, “Out… Where? Outside? It’s supposed to rain soon, I hope you know. You’ll get cold in that dress.” You rolled your eyes at him, he was being a smartass and both you and he knew it.

You scoffed, “No, doofus, out as in I’m going out. With someone.”

Bob felt a familiar feeling rise up his chest and in his stomach. He hated when you went out with random dudes who don’t even like you for you. They don’t know you like he does—don’t love you like he does.

The brunette went through every excuse to keep you here in his mind, but knew none of them would actually work. He still tried though. “Can’t you reschedule? Like I said, it’s about to rain, storm even, and it could be dangerous for you to go out.” Oh man, he was horrible at making up excuses. He struggled to find the right words to keep you here in the Watchtower with him, but they didn’t work. You really wanted to see this guy, apparently.

With a sigh, you walked over to Bob and rubbed your hand up and down his arm, “Thanks for your concern, Bob, but I’ll be okay. I can handle myself. Especially a little bit of rain.”

“But it’s gonna storm-“

You giggled, “Okay, I can handle a storm, Bob.” He sighed and looked down. There was no persuading you into staying home with him and he was finally starting to accept it. “I’ll be just fine, I promise.”

He nodded, still not meeting your gaze. “Is he picking you up, at least?” There was at least that, and it would ensure your safety which is all he cared about.

You sighed and shook your head, “No. He said it would be easier if I met him at his place so he would have more time to get ready.” Bob could hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your tone, not liking the idea of a selfish douche who won’t even pick up his date just because he needs more time to get ready.

“Are you serious?” The words flew out of Bob’s lips before he even had the chance to think about saying them. His eyes snapped up to yours, which were filled with an emotion he can’t read.

You gave him a nod, wishing you didn’t agree to go on this stupid date in the first place.

“Can I at least walk you there? I’ll leave before he sees me, I just want to make sure you get there safely.” Bob grabbed your hands that began to fumble with the fabric of your dress and held them gently.

Smiling, you nodded your head as blush crept up your cheeks and butterflies erupted in your stomach. “Of course you can.”

———

The walk to your date’s house was filled with a comfortable silence between you and Bob. There were people roaming the streets, making the usual bustle of a crowd, but it blended in the background as all you could think of was the brunette next to you.

As the crowd began to get bigger, Bob’s pinky finger found yours as you both waited for the crosswalk light to change, his heart rate picking up. Not only was he touching you, but he also hated big crowds. He always got anxious around big groups of people, always finding solace in the feeling of your pinky wrapped around his, grounding him that it’ll be okay and you were there. There with him. He’d rather stay inside all the time and avoid going out, but you dragged him out of his introvert shell without even knowing it. He would do anything for you, even if that meant being in a large crowd of strangers in the big state of New York.

“You okay?” You looked over to him with a soft look in your eyes, squeezing his pinky a little to reassure him.

He snapped out of his daze and looked down at you, “Y-yeah. I’m okay. This light is taking forever, though.” He puffed his cheeks, only making you let out a giggle. The sound of your laugh brings a smile to his lips, occupying his mind from his anxiousness with his favorite sound momentarily. He loved making you laugh, it made him feel special, and it meant so much to him.

The light finally changed, illuminating a little white silhouette of a person that instructed you to walk. The large flock of people began walking across the street, their moves quick and mindless of the others around them. You tugged Bob’s finger as you stepped onto the street, dragging him along with you to the other side.

Once you made it to the sidewalk, you looked over to Bob whose face was flushed and beat red—you assumed it was from the quick pace you were walking, but it definitely was not from that.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you spoke as the two of you strolled past stores and cafés and clubs that were surprisingly—but not really—still busy and filled with lively people. Bob nodded but stayed quiet, still following you as you turned a corner that led to a residential area.

The feeling of dread overwhelmed Bob; he knew that you were getting close to this guy’s house and hated the idea of leaving you alone with him.

This area was less crowded, you and Bob were actually the only people on this side of the street. There were a couple of others on the opposite side of the road, but where you walked it was just the two of you.

Silence filled the air around you both once again, but a loud clap of thunder broke it. Bob jumped slightly, unlacing his finger from yours to hold your hand. He hated storms, they brought back bad memories from his childhood and he always came to you for comfort during them. You remembered him telling you stories from his childhood after he got comfortable with you and trusted you, this fact being one of them.

You gripped his hand tight and tugged him closer to you, your arms pressed against each other like they were made to fit just like that. Bob let out a shaky breath as you continued walking, feeling his tense shoulders loosen a bit from your touch.

You were here. With him. It was going to be okay.

But soon you wouldn’t be with him. You would be with some random guy in his house, possibly even sitting on his couch while you waited for him to get ready. Alone. With him. Not with Bob.

He knew what he had signed up for when he offered to walk you to your date’s house. It would be pouring down rain by the time he dropped you off and walked back to the Watchtower, and even worse, it would be thundering and lightning. But he didn’t care about that. He was going to face his fears to make sure you were safe.

As you walked hand in hand, Bob couldn’t help but think of all the times he watched you go out with random men you met online or at a bar or whatever. He hated seeing you in the arms of someone else. Of another man. Another man who wasn’t him. He would see you kiss guys who don’t deserve your lips, dance with guys who don’t deserve to touch you, and get into cars of guys who don’t deserve you period.

He was sick of this. Sick of seeing your heart being taken away from him. It tears his world apart, and even worse, his heart in two. He should be the one feeling your lips on his. He should be dancing with you, even though he cannot dance whatsoever. He should be taking you on dates. He should be the one. Even though he doesn’t think he deserves it. Deserves you. Because no man could ever deserve you.

He beats himself up each day for not just telling you how he feels, but he didn’t want to ruin the great friendship the two of you shared. He couldn’t lose you, it would break him even more than watching you go out with guys who don’t actually love you.

Nothing could be worse than losing you.

Even though he loved you first and more than any other guy you dated could.

———

“Bob, you should just tell her.” Yelena’s voice spoke in his ear as he watched you dancing with some guy, his arms wrapped around your waist, hands slowly moving down your hips. God, Bob wanted to puke.

Valentina thought it was a great idea to throw a party at the Watchtower, and said it was “good publicity” for the New Avengers. The lights were dimmed and colorful lights were strung up all around the place that lit up the area. Lit up you on the dance floor and the stupid guy whose hands were sliding down a little too far for Bob’s liking.

Bob rolled his eyes with a sigh before looking down at his hands. He and Yelena sat at the bar with a perfect view of where you were dancing. He made sure to sit somewhere he could see you and make sure you were okay without disturbing your fun.

“I can’t. She doesn’t feel the same way about me,” Bob took a sip of his drink—a Shirley Temple with a few too many cherries it, just how he liked it. He didn’t drink alcohol, not since he had gotten sober from his drug addiction. He didn’t want to go down that road again.

Yelena scoffed and took a swig of her drink. “Bullshit, Bob.” She told him multiple times that she saw the way you looked at him, and that you most definitely felt the same way, but Bob never listened. He just couldn’t believe you would feel that way about him. No way. Why would you go out on so many dates with random guys if you did?

He didn’t answer her, only took another sip of his drink and chewed on one of the soft cherries as his gaze landed on you once again.

It should’ve been him dancing with you. He could’ve been where he is standing. With you and holding you so close that your bodies molded together like a completed puzzle.

It should’ve been him.

But it wasn’t.

———

The first time Bob saw you kiss a guy that wasn’t him, he felt his whole world crumble into a million pieces.

Since you were gone on a date, he felt brave and went out of the Watchtower all by himself to go to a nearby bookstore a few blocks down. He definitely didn’t pick it because it was right across the street from the restaurant you were at. Absolutely not. He wanted a certain book and it just so happened that the bookstore right across the street from you had it in stock. Definitely no other reason.

You had told him where you were going, just in case anything happened and you needed him. And he definitely did NOT force the information out of you before you left.

As he was checking out at the register with the book he came for and a few others, he peered behind the cashier and into the window to see if he could spot you. Gently grabbing the bag of books and his change from the cashier, he bid her a kind “Bye, have a nice evening.” and left the store.

His eyes finally found you, smiling and laughing at whatever your date was saying as you both made your way outside the building. He didn’t hold the door for you, and that made Bob scoff. He would’ve held the door for you. He would hold and do anything for you without being asked. But this guy didn’t.

Bob watched as the guy grabbed your wrist as you tried to start walking away. Walking back to the Watchtower. Back to Bob. He pulled you into his chest, and brought his lips to yours in an instant, his hands finding their way to cradle your head. Bob felt his insides explode in fire and fury as he watched you stand still with this guy’s hands on your head and lips on yours.

God, that should’ve been him.

He clutched the bag in his hand tightly as he watched you pull away from the kiss you and your date shared. He felt like a creep watching you like this, but reassured himself that he was just looking out for you. No harm in that.

Except there was. Watching you kiss someone else hurt. It hurt so bad because he knew that it would never be him kissing you. It hurt because you’ll never know Bob’s true feelings for you, and he knew you’d never reciprocate them.

That’s what hurts the most.

———

“Bob? Are you okay? You’re being kinda quiet,” your voice brought him back to reality. Brought him back from his torturous memories of you with other men.

He looked over at you as another clap of thunder erupted from the sky, “Yeah. I was just thinking about something, sorry.” He looked away from your concerned face and down at the concrete beneath his feet.

“Thinking about what?” You asked, but Bob immediately shook his head. He couldn’t tell you what exactly he was thinking about because he was thinking about you. Like he always was.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” he shook off, not wanting to discuss it anymore. You just nodded and went along with it, noticing how something was bothering him but didn’t push because it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it.

After walking for a few more minutes, you finally stopped in front of what Bob assumed was your date’s house. His heart rate picked up once again, not ready to be alone without you with him.

“Well, this is the place,” you gestured to the building before you with your free hand. You turned to Bob with an appreciative smile on your face, “Thank you for walking with me, Bob.”

He felt a bittersweet smile form on his face, a soft nod as he spoke, “Of course, Y/n/n. Anytime.” You looked into his eyes as thunder boomed in your ears once again, making Bob squeeze your hand tightly.

“Are you going to be okay walking home?” You asked, silently communicating the fact that you know he hates storms and are concerned about him walking home alone in one.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, “I’ll be fine.” You give him an unsure look, eyebrow raised. He laughed softly, “I’m serious, Y/n, I’ll be okay. If it makes you feel better, I’ll text you when I get back home.”

You sighed, “Please do.” He gave you a smile in response as you let go of his hand to walk to the door. His smile faltered slightly as the he felt the cool breeze of the nighttime air touch his hand when yours left it, wishing your soft, warm hand never left his.

He heard thunder again as he turned away and started to walk back the way you both came from the Watchtower, a familiar feeling settling deep in his stomach and chest as he walked away from you. He didn’t want to leave you here. He wanted you to come back home with him and spend the rest of the night watching movies and eating junk food until 3am.

As he began to move his feet in the other direction, away from you, his mind raced through all sorts of feelings and thoughts of you and what would happen if he told you how he felt. Maybe if he told you now, you wouldn’t step through that door to that guy’s house and go out on a date with him and possibly kiss him. The thought of that idiot kissing you irked him in so many ways to the point that Bob felt nauseous.

He couldn’t let that happen. Not again. He was so sick of this feeling, of yearning for someone who constantly puts themself through shitty dates in hopes of finding the one. Why were you searching for the one when he was standing right in front of your face this whole time?

The uncertain feelings that you didn’t feel the same way flooded him in that moment of thinking, however. What if he made a big mistake and ruined your friendship forever? What if he made it awkward between the two of you? God, he can’t lose you. He’d rather lose the world and anything else than you.

Before meeting you, he never understood what love felt like, receiving and giving. He never felt love from his parents in his childhood, so he didn’t know what it looked and felt like to be loved and cared about. And because of that, he never knew how to love either. He had a hard time trusting people, and always felt like a burden to everyone. But that changed when he met you.

From the first time your eyes met his, he knew that you were different from the others. From the very beginning, you had always been gentle with him and cared about his wellbeing and made him feel wanted. You had this soft twinkle in your eyes when you looked up at him, a look he hadn’t seen from anyone else. Maybe that’s what Yelena was talking about.

“I see the way she looks at you, Bob. She only has those eyes for you.”

Yelena’s voice played through his head as he thought about the way you looked at him and no one else. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy that you felt the same way about him. But he just couldn’t for the life of him wrap that thought around his head that you could actually feel that way towards him. He wasn’t lovable, didn’t feel like he was anyway. He’d done some bad things in his past, and he believed he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone. Especially by you.

But he knew one thing.

That guy inside didn’t deserve you either, and Bob needed to do something about it before it was too late and too far gone. You would eventually find the one, and Bob wasn’t going to let that happen.

He had to tell you how he felt, and he had to tell you now. The rejection would sting and shatter his heart in a million pieces but maybe that’s what he needs to get over you and move on. He was terrified. He didn’t want to lose your friendship, but he knew if he didn’t tell you now, he never would.

So he did something he never thought he would do.

“Y/n, wait!” He quickly spun around as the words left his lips without thinking. You stopped your tracks at the top of the steps by the door, your finger hovering over the buzzer to your date’s apartment.

You felt nervousness wash over you, “Yeah?”

Bob sighed and clenched his fists tightly, “Don’t go in there.” God, what was he doing? He regretted opening his mouth, but there was no turning back now. His eyes met yours, which were filled with confusion as your hand dropped down to your side.

“W-what??” You didn’t know what was going on or what Bob was doing, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved when he stopped you. “Why not?” You finally mustered up something to say to a very nervous Bob.

“Because…” He started, but didn’t know what to say or how to say what he feels. You stood there waiting for his answer as another boom of thunder filled the city and lightning illuminated the sky. “Umm… never mind. It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything. Have a nice date.” He quickly blurted out before turning around and walking away from you, his fingers fumbling with the end of his sweater.

You felt your heart sink a little before running down the stairs and over to Bob before he got too far. “No, wait!” You caught up to him and grabbed his arm, softly tugging him back to stop him and turn him towards you. You felt a cold drop of rain hit your forehead as he spun around, making sure to not meet your gaze. “Bob…” You brought your hand up to his chin to make him look at you, his eyes filled with a sadness that made your heart melt. “Why don’t you want me to go in there?” You asked again, but oh-so softly this time.

He looked at you with flushed cheeks and worry filling up in his chest. This was it. The moment he didn’t want to come because he would tell you his feelings and you were going to reject him and tell him you didn’t feel the same. This was the moment he knew he was going to lose your friendship. “Because I hate seeing you go on dates with guys who don’t care about you like I do.”

Your heart skipped a beat, rapidly beating up your throat as Bob spoke to you. He couldn’t possibly be implying what you think he was implying, right?

“W-what do you mean?” You had to ask, had to know what exactly he meant by that. Your heart needed to know even though it was most likely going to crush it.

You felt another raindrop hit your face. And another. And another.

He looked down, “I mean, they don’t care about anything but the few facts they know about you. They don’t know you like I know you.” The rain began to pick up, raindrops falling on your still confused eyes.

“I still don’t understand-“

“Of course you don’t understand!” Bob’s voice boomed, startling you from his abrupt loudness. His eyes weren’t soft and sad anymore, now they were replaced with slight annoyance. “All you do is busy yourself by going out on dates with random men who don’t know you or give a shit about you.”

You gape at him, his words kind of stung. The rain picked up and started flowing down a bit faster as you stared at him in shock. “I do not.” What had gotten into him?

He pushed his fingers through his now-wet brown locks, “Yes you do! You always tell me about how you’re trying to find the right guy or someone to make you happy. How are you supposed to find someone like that on a dating app? Those guys don’t care about you, Y/n.” The rain was pouring now, soaking your clothes and your hair that you spent over an hour fixing. You could tell Bob was getting angry, and this was a side you never saw from him. What happened to your sweet Bob?

“And how are you so sure, Robert?” Your cadence was laced with venom now. You tried to be calm, but his anger and hurtful words made you upset and frustrated. You never used his full name, it was always Bob or doofus. He didn’t like hearing Robert come from your lips, it sounded foreign.

He scoffed and rubbed his eyes, the rain water beginning to burn. He felt his tense shoulders start to loosen slightly, even though the stress was still present in his body. This was going nowhere, and arguing was not what he intended on doing at the very moment. He had to tell you what he meant to tell you now before it was too late. “They don’t deserve your time, Y/n. And they especially don’t deserve you.”

You gave him an incredulous look, “What are you saying, Bob?” You were confused, angry, soaked, and quickly losing your patience. You looked at him expectantly, urging him to answer your question before you turned around and buzzed that damn buzzer to get you out of the rain.

He pushed his wet hair out of his face once again before beginning, “I can’t stand watching you go on dates with guys who don’t care about your wellbeing. With guys who don’t know you like I do and don’t know your likes and dislikes. With guys who really only talk about themselves and never ask about what you enjoy. It’s so hard listening to you after each date talking about how selfish these guys are and then watching you go out with a different one the next day!”

He ran his hand down his face, wiping the rain off just for it to pelt down on it once again. “When are you going to see that the right guy is standing right in front of you?!” His breathing was heavy and short as he stared into your eyes, feeling the weight begin to lift off his shoulders. Your eyes widened.

“Bob…” You began, not knowing what the hell words were or how to form a sentence in that moment.

He shook his head, water droplets hitting your face from his wet hair. “God, I’m so in love with you.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. He can’t look at your face right now, it would take every bit of confidence out of him. “Ever since we met and I looked into your eyes, I knew it. Even though I never understood what love felt like before, I realized that it was what I felt about you. I’ve loved you from the start and will till the very end. You’re the only person to make me feel like this and always will be. Even if you don’t feel the same way, my heart will always be yours.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt water fall down your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if they were tears or if it was the pelting rain, but you didn’t care. Bob put his feelings into words so beautifully it was poetic, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you stared at the man in front of you. The right guy. The one.

He spoke the same feelings you had been feeling for a very long time now, feelings you thought he didn’t reciprocate. But he did. All of your constant overthinking and worry washed away at his confession, bringing you a certain joy that you thought you would never feel. The joy of being loved. The joy of being loved by Bob.

“Please say something,” his voice was low and laced with uncertainty. His eyes were open now but glued to the ground, watching the rain drops hit the puddles underneath your feet.

Your hand finds his chin, lifting it up to meet your gaze. There were tears in his eyes, you think, you couldn’t quite tell by the rain but saw the look on his face. He looked so defeated and dejected when he looked at you, expecting his heart to be crushed even more than it already was.

You brought your other hand to his face to cradle it like it was the most fragile thing in the world, a soft smile creeping up at the corners of your soft lips. “I’m so in love with you too, Bob.”

His eyes widened as thunder thrummed through the air once again, but the two of you barely heard it. You were both focused on one thing and one thing only, and that was each other. Your surroundings, the rain, the thunder, and even your date who was probably wondering where you are were silently in the background. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

“You… you do?” Bob’s voice was still uncertain as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips. He needed to make sure he heard that correctly before he lost control of his senses and kissed the hell out of you.

You nodded, feeling Bob’s hands moving to tuck your wet hair out of your face before cupping it tenderly. “I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” Your forehead met his, both wet and cold from the pouring-down rain.

His eyes met yours, “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course you can, doofus.”

That was all it took for Bob to place his lips on yours and kiss you with such delicacy it makes you dizzy. It was slow and passionate, your lips moving and molding together in a way they were destined. You could taste the raindrops and salty tears on his lips and were sure he could taste the same on yours. The rain in the background created a wall around you and the only two people within those walls were you and Bob. His lips were so soft against yours, and it just felt so right.

You finally broke away from the kiss after what felt like hours of bliss and passion to catch your breath, just staring deeply into one another with a fondness no one else could give. The sound of the rain was the only one you heard, but there was still a comfortable silence between you two.

After a minute, Bob smiled and leaned in to place a tender kiss on your nose, “I love you so much.” His face was only inches away from yours but yet he still wasn’t close enough.

“I love you so much more,” your lips turned upwards as heat flushed your cold rain-soaked cheeks.

He hummed and shook his head, “Not possible.” Before you could speak up again, he leaned into your ear and his lips ghosted over it. “And you should probably cancel your date.” You could feel him grinning into your ear as you let out a giggle. He pulled away when you grabbed your phone out of your purse, sending a quick text to the guy before deleting and blocking his number.

You weren’t going on any other dates with random guys anymore. The only man who will be taking you out on dates from now on is Bob. And you couldn’t be happier.

———

“Hey, Bob, have you seen my-“ Yelena barged into Bob’s room, not even thinking about the fact that you might be in there before bursting through his door. “-charger.”

Her eyes were wide when she saw the two of you lying down on his bed with you on top of him and a movie playing softly in the background. Your lips were moving together slowly and passionately as Bob’s hands made their way up your back and to your hair, your limbs tangled with each other.

The sound of Yelena’s voice caused you both to snap your heads up and lips away from each other. Both of your lips were kiss-swollen and your eyes were wide, the looks on your faces were filled with embarrassment as you got caught making out with your boyfriend. Does anyone knock these days??

Yelena shivered and gagged, “You know what, I’ll just use Ava’s.” She then turned on her heel and slammed the door shut behind her, wanting to burn the image she just saw out of her brain forever.

With the slam of Bob’s door, you turned your head back to him and let out a flustered giggle. He grinned and laughed softly along with you, bringing his hands back down to settle on your hips.

Bob brushed your hair behind your ear with one hand, the grin on his swollen lips growing even bigger and eyes beaming up at you. God, did he love you.

You sighed, a smile still evident on your face and cheeks flushed bright red as you gazed down at him. “Yelena is never going to let us live that down.”

Bob chuckled, “Nope.” His hands traveled their way back up to their spot in your hair before pulling your face closer to his. “But I don’t care. I just wanna kiss you again.” And then he did, your lips met his again and moved and molded together like a puzzle that was finally finished.

His lips on yours felt so right in every way possible, and you couldn’t ask for anything better in your life. Because your life was complete, he was your missing puzzle piece. He was the right guy all along. He was the one.

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bluebnny · 3 days ago

Note

Can u make another luffy fwb smut this time with a fem/plus size/short!reader and they're childhood friends? Doggy style with loads of creampie please and thank u

Fill you up

monkey d luffy x fem!reader

contents: doggy-style sex with luffy. basically what it says in the ask

warnings: smut, MDNI, some size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, a little overstimulation

a/n: yes i can, anon ;) here you go, i hope you like it. i was meaning to post this 2 days ago but got distracted lol. also you mentioned short!reader so for me, that means with a hefty side of size kink <3 hope i went into the plus size aspect enough. Have fun reading!

(Dividers made by me)

word count: 1.164

The floor of the cabin sways violently beneath the bed. It would be enough to make you fall if you weren’t currently on all fours, Luffy’s hands on your hips keeping you firmly in place.

You’re temporarily on his ship as he had offered to help you get to the next island. Since Luffy is a good friend, you had taken him up on the offer. Either way, it’s preferrable to spending your hard-earned money to travel with total strangers.

Although you had been stupid to think that he might not have any ulterior motives in inviting you to stay, you can’t say that you aren’t happy with your current situation. That is, being pounded into oblivion by none other than the captain of the ship himself.

A storm is raging outside, but you barely register the turbulence around you in the dark, hot room. All you can feel is the drag of his cock inside you as he rams into you from behind. Luffy’s never been the delicate type, always breaking stuff, even when you were kids. And you can feel that in the way he’s roughly thrusting into your much smaller frame. Or rather, thrusting your body onto his, because he’s vigorously pulling you back by your hips every time he pushes into you, impaling you on his length. It’s so overwhelming a feeling that you’re whimpering and whining into the mattress beneath you. But you’re not complaining.

You and Luffy had grown up together in the same town, knowing each other from a very young age. You used to be the most inseparable of friends but nowadays, you rarely saw him anymore – the contact between you two becoming sporadic at best after he left your shared hometown to become a pirate. But when you do see him on rare occasions, the night usually ends like this. Something about the distance between you has ironically made you closer. And although it isn’t romantic, there’s a certain spark between you two that makes you end up in his bed time and time again.

Luffy’s hands are digging into the fat of your hips, stinging deliciously as he holds your body in place for him. You couldn’t move away from him even if you tried. So, you’re reduced to taking what he’s giving you while fisting the sheets for purchase.

“You know you look so fucking hot like this?” He’s panting out the words between thrusts.

You can barely respond from how well he’s fucking you. Your brain unable to focus on anything other than the way his tip is kneading into your g-spot with every move of his hips. But Luffy clearly doesn’t expect an answer, because he keeps talking.

“Love seeing you like his. This position- fuck- you’re so hot.”

He’s mesmerized with the way your skin ripples with every hard snap of his hips into your ass. How his fingers make indents in your thighs and hips when he squeezes the plushness there. You think part of him also loves having enough of you to hold on to while also still being able to tease you for being shorter than him. But you stopped being insecure about it a long time ago, now able to fully enjoy the fact that Luffy is almost a head taller than you. A difference in size that definitely makes itself known when he has you going stupid on his cock.

Your back is in the deepest arch to try to accommodate his girth; the top of your stomach touching the bed despite your hips being in the air. Luffy is utterly ruining you, and it feels so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

All you can feel is the pressure building in your abdomen. That familiar heat getting more concentrated, ready to explode.

“Ah- Luffy, fuck-” You’re whining out your words, and they barely even make sense to you, but you need to show him how much you need this. “Right there… please-”

“You close?” He lets out his little laugh. The one he only has when he’s reeling from happiness, or in this case, pleasure. “Fuck, me too. Let’s cum together, yeah? Where do you want it?”

“In- inside. Please.”

He only moans at that; and leans down so his chest pressing into the small of your back. He’s got one arm grabbing on to the headboard somewhere above where your head is buried into the mattress, the other snaking around your front to roughly grab a handful of your chest.

“Fuckin’ love these tits. So- so soft f’me...” His face is hovering above your head, and you feel so small buried under him like this. The thought makes you squeeze him even harder, and he lets out another loud moan.

“You like that, yeah?” His voice is breathy. Strained. “Then cum f’me.”

As he says those last words, he starts to rub your nipple messily between his thumb and index finger. The delicious sting shoots straight down to your lower belly and connects to the ocean of pleasure already spilling over there.

Your orgasm hits you, and your vision goes white.

Every nerve in your body is on fire, and all you can do is moan obscenely from the exhilarating high that’s overriding every other sensation. Luffy follows close behind, thrown over the edge by how brutally your smaller body is writing and convulsing beneath his.

The feeling is starting to be too much. When Luffy spills inside of you, he simply keeps going instead of slowing down. Emptying more and more of himself into your tightness, unable to stop when the feeling was so intoxicating.

“Luffy, ‘s too- ‘s too much…” you’re whining from the overstimulation now, body starting to tense despite wanting nothing more than to fall limply to the mattress. You can feel him still cumming into you, thick ropes of it filling you up more than you thought possible.

“One sec. Almost done.” He pants out, hands still tightly gripping the plumpness of your hips, sure to leave massive bruises. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity to your overstimulated senses, he stills his movements.

“You alright there?”

“Y- yeah.” You’re still trembling beneath him, feeling that familiar soothing warmth that comes after an orgasm spread itself to your tired limbs.

Luffy carefully slides out of you but stays where he is to admire his work. “Heh, look at you! Filled you up so fucking good.” A trickle of his cum mixed with your wetness runs down your thigh, but he catches it with his fingers and pushes it back into you with an obscene squelching sound.

“Luffy, stop!” You can’t help but giggle despite your embarrassment. “Help me get cleaned up?”

“’Course I will” And with that, he’s picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. “So… round 2 after I clean you up?” You’ve known him long enough to know that he’s only half joking.

You’re in for a long night.

thanks for reading! I really hope you liked it!!! <3<3 sorry the title is so bad, i always forget i have to make one for the masterlist 2 seconds before posting lol

(This is my fic, don't repost or use in any AI training programmes! Reblogs are always appreciated <3) Here are my rules, and my masterlist.

#it's literally 10 in the morning here why am i so weirdly productive #like i randomly woke up before 7 and have already folded all the laundry and done the dishes??? insane actually #like where was this energy during exam season?#one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece fanfiction #luffy x reader #one piece smut #monkey d luffy #luffy smut #request

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mafiadad5 · 3 days ago

Text

Teach me to not love || L. HC (part 3)

𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)

𐙚 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + bonus epilogue

𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin's out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You're just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan's mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He's cute, addictive- you should stay away... you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what's right?

𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDN/ 18+), angst, slight fluff, second chance.

𐙚 warnings- alcohol use, black out, mentions of throwing up, sexual activity under the influence, fingering, masturbation, dry humping, markings, arguing, heartbreak, betrayal.

𐙚 W/c- 15k

Now playing: Exit Music (For A Film) - Radiohead

a/n- here it is, the finale. I want to thank you all for the support and I hope you liked it— let me know what you thought. Luv y’all, mwah mwah 💋

tags- @dnylwoo @haeclips @millis-diary @bbhbungee @sooohey @captainchrisstan @chocojiji @imnotrosiee @meatballsub420

══════════════════════════

Wednesday, a few days after he appeared.

Your mind was still spiraling— just a bit less now. You hadn't called him even though he told you to, it didn't feel right. Well, that and the fact that you were buried in projects, trying to keep yourself distracted, productive, anything but still.

You were sitting there, a little too idle now, having wrapped up your milestone for the day. 8:49 PM. You stared at the time for a moment, chewing at your bottom lip. A few more minutes passed like that. Fuck it. What could really go more wrong at this point?

You picked up your phone and clicked on his contact. It rang long, long enough for you to start regretting it. You were just about to hang up when his voice came through the speaker.

"Hello."

Your brows lifted, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh— hello?" You said, the shock in your voice unmissable.

"Yo, wassup." He replied casually, his tone unreadable.

"Nothing, I'm just bored, y'know."

"Yeah, I feel you." A second passed. "Listen, sorry but I'm really really busy right now so I'll just hit you back later or something."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Your voice softened.

He hesitated for a second. "Oh, um— party tomorrow. You coming?" His words were quick, like he forced them out before changing his mind.

"I'll think about it. Kinda have a lot to do." You said honestly.

"Cool. Bye."

And just like that, he hung up. Alright then. It was the first time he'd picked up your call ever, so there was that at least. You didn't let yourself overthink it, just let it be.

The next night came quicker than expected. You finished everything you needed to do earlier than planned, you actually hadn't been this productive in a while. So, with little left to distract yourself, you went to the party.

You arrived, same scene, same crowd. Scanning for familiar faces, one in particular.

You found him quickly— but your smile dropped. There he was, same cocky grin, same glint in his eye, but this time he was standing with a girl too close... way too close. His arm lazily slung around her, leaning in, sharing sips from her drink.

Your stomach sank, breath turned shallow. Your body froze and burned all at once. Your thoughts scattered, unsure what to do, but before you could process anything your feet were already moving toward him.

"Um, hey." You said carefully.

He looked over, eyes changing when he saw you, but smile dropping.

"Can we talk privately for a second?"

He exhaled dramatically, annoyed, but nodded. He followed you down the nearby hallway, away from the noise and attention.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice low but firm, eyes fixed on his.

"Chilling. Why are you being extra?" He snapped back.

"Why am I being extra?" Your voice lifted with disbelief. "You know what you're doing, you literally invited me. If this is still about what happened with your brother I told you I was sorry."

He scoffed. "First of all, I never invited you. I asked if you were coming and you said maybe. I didn't fucking beg you to show up tonight."

"Oh, but I'm 'always invited' right? That's what you said." Your voice cracked.

"Okay, Y/n." He said flatly.

"Okay? That's it?" You asked, hurt surfacing.

He sighed again and looked away briefly before turning back. "You know, honestly Y/n..." His tone shifted— colder. "I'm fucking bored with you, okay? I'm tired. I want something different tonight. Someone who doesn't make a big deal out of me not answering their calls. Someone who doesn't take everything so seriously and emotionally."

He paused. "Someone who doesn't make me wear protection for casual, regular, simple sex."

You blinked, stunned as his words sank in.

"This is only about sex to you?" You asked quietly.

"Literally, yes. That's all it was ever supposed to be. We're not dating, we're not anything special. So just get over it."

His words stung like a slap. You stood frozen, chest tightening, breath catching as your mind scrambled to make sense of it.

"Get over it?" You questioned, voice shaky. "I can't believe you."

"Seriously, why are you surprised? You knew what you were getting into, you knew what this was— who I was. So yeah, get over it."

And just like that, he turned and walked away quickly, unapologetic, like none of it mattered.

You just stood there. The sting of his words burned beneath your skin. Your mind replayed it all— his kisses that felt too careful, the way he used to listen when you rambled like he cared. It didn't feel casual, it never did. You thought it meant something.

You should've left then. Should've gone out to your car and cried it out alone, but instead, you ended up in the kitchen, grabbing the nearest bottle, the biggest one. One shot became two, then three, then you chugging half the bottle while strangers cheered like it was a show. You couldn't even hear them, everything blurred.

You stumbled back down the hallway for a break, sliding against the wall until you hit the floor, bottle still in hand. You closed your eyes, maybe to stop the spinning, maybe to hold back tears, maybe both.

"Y/n?"

Your eyes fluttered open. You turned slowly to the voice.

"Jaemin? What the fuck?" You said, standing a little wobbly.

He stepped closer, a cautious steadiness in his eyes. "Can we talk?"

"You're fucked up." You replied.

"You're fucked up too. If we can still speak, we can talk." His voice was gentle, not defensive.

You looked at him for a long second, trying to focus through the fog before nodding. "Alright, talk."

He ran a hand through his hair, pausing before speaking. "Listen... I'm seriously sorry about everything I said to you."

"That all?" You mumbled.

"No." He said quickly. "I haven't been the best friend. I just... I wanted to keep you away from a guy like him. I know I wasn't always nice about it, but you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve anything I said to you and I'm sorry. I love you, Y/n. I always have."

You smiled faintly. "It's cool."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but someone else's voice interrupted.

"There you are."

You both turned. It was the Mark guy from last time.

"Do you know where Haechan is bro?" He asked Jaemin.

Jaemin shook his head, lips in a tight line. "Naw."

Mark rolled his eyes slightly before pausing, turning to you. "What about you— do you know where he is?"

"Why would I know?" You questioned, laughing a bit.

His brows furrowed slightly, confusion twisting his face. "You're like— his girl."

You paused for a second the word echoing in your mind 'his girl'. He didn't act like it, all that he said tonight and his friends are calling you his girl? Right.

"Last time I seen him he was with a girl— he's probably fucking her." You said, the words coming out your mouth too easy, too bitter.

"Naw." Mark said, staring at the ceiling like he was thinking. "He wasn't with a girl when I saw him a few minutes ago. I don't know, I checked in his room, the backyard, everywhere— nothing. His car is still here though."

He isn't with a girl? Since when. Your mind started racing again, trying to think as logically as you could in the state you were at right now.

"I'm getting kind of worried." You said without thinking, eyes glossy.

"I'm sure he just took a car somewhere or something." Jaemin pipped in.

Mark nodded in agreement, scratching his head, cursing slightly under his breath.

"What do you need with him?" You asked, curiousity taking the best of you.

"He has my blunt." Mark said in a sigh.

Jaemin chuckled lightly, honestly, more of a scoff. "Man, if you don't get the fuck on." He said, pushing Marks shoulder slightly.

"Shit, my bad. Didn't know it was that serious. Let me know if you see Haechan." Mark said, walking down the hallway, scratching the back of his head.

You stared at him as he left, zoned out for a second too long before turning back. Jaemin's eyes were already on you— focused, something glinting in them.

"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" You asked, your words slurring slightly.

"Like what?" He replied, inching closer to you with casual ease that felt far too practiced.

"Like... that." You motioned vaguely, a tired, crooked smile tugging at your lips.

"I don't know." He said, smirking. "I guess I just missed you. Missed seeing your face, your eyes, your—" His gaze flicked down."...lips."

You just giggled lazily, your head falling back slightly as your eyelids drooped.

"You didn't miss me just a little bit?" He pressed, now standing directly in front of you, his expression filled with something light, teasing.

"What am I gonna do with you?" You murmured, shaking your head, half amused, half dazed.

"I've got a few suggestions." His voice dropped lower, smoother.

You opened your mouth to say something back, but then suddenly the room spun.

Your smile fell.

Everything hit at once, shutting your eyes, hand instinctively reaching for Jaemin to stay grounded.

"You okay?" He muttered, steadying you quickly. "Fuck— can you make it upstairs?"

You just nodded weakly as he wrapped your arm over his shoulder, raising you up. He guided you through the crowd, shielding you from the curious glances.

"Hang in there, I got you." He said, his breath a little rushed. He led you straight into the bathroom, flipping the toilet lid up and helping you kneel in front of it just in time.

"There you go, let it out." He said gently, one hand holding your hair, the other rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back as everything poured out of you.

You didn't say anything, just coughed, groaning softly, trying to breathe through the burn.

"I'll be right back, okay? Gonna grab you some water." He stood, hesitating for a moment, watching you slump against the wall before disappearing.

You sat there for a second, catching your breath. Once the spinning calm downed, you forced yourself up on shaky legs. You splashed cold water on your face with a washcloth, numbing your flushed skin. Your eyes found the bottle of mouthwash under the sink, and you took a quick swig, trying to rinse away the taste of shame and alcohol.

When Jaemin returned, he handed you a red cup of water and closed the door softly behind him.

"Thanks." You mumbled, taking a sip. The cold relief hit your throat like glass.

"You feeling any better?"

"Yeah." You nodded, slowly. "I just... I think I need to rest. I'll be okay after that."

"You drove here?" He asked.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Then let me take you home. You can grab your car tomorrow."

"No, that's too much. I'm not leaving my car here." You said, waving a hand lazily. "I'll crash here a bit. I'll leave when I'm sober."

He stared at you like you just confessed a felony. "Y/n, that's a fucking terrible idea."

"Jaemin, seriously." You said firmly, cutting him off. "I'm not doing this with you tonight. I really don't have the energy."

He sighed, lips pressed into a tight line before nodding. "Alright. Just... text me when you get home. I wanna make sure you're alright."

"Noted." You gave him a soft, exhausted smile. "Thank you."

He lingered a second longer, like he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Then he left.

You pulled out your phone and shot Haechan a quick message— told him you were sick, asked if there was a room you could rest in, promised you'd be gone by morning... no reply.

You rolled your eyes, of course.

You made your way to his room anyway, tugging off your shoes and the uncomfortable pants digging into your waist. You sank into the bed, eyes shutting before your head even hit the pillow.

About an hour and a half later, your eyes snapped open.

Your chest rose quickly as you sat up, heart beating fast. You rubbed at your face, trying to blink the haze away. Everything still felt off— your body heavy, your mind foggy. You weren't even sure if it was just the alcohol anymore. You turned toward the nightstand, eyes catching on an unopened can sitting there, no label, no clue what it was. You picked it up, squinted at it, turning it in your hands.

The door creaked open.

"Was throwing up the first time not enough?"

Your head snapped up. Haechan.

You scoffed quietly, setting the can back on the nightstand without a word.

"Oh, you're ignoring me now?" He said as he stepped in, closing the door behind him and locking it.

You didn't look at him. "Your friends are looking for you." You said quietly, your voice flat. "You disappeared."

"They found me." He replied. "Was with my sister. The stupid fucker had my location."

He walked toward your side of the bed. "I got you some water." He said, placing a red solo cup down next to you.

Then, like nothing had happened, he sat at the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head.

"Why are you acting like nothing happened?" You asked suddenly, voice cracking under the weight of your restraint.

He paused, head tilted slightly. "Huh?"

"Everything you said earlier. All that shit. You just walked away like it didn't matter."

He paused, then bent down, taking his shoes off. "Oh, that?" He said with a shrug. "Yeah, I changed my mind."

Your eyebrows shot up. "You changed your mind?"

"Didn't even fuck her." He added carelessly, like that erased it.

"I don't believe you." You said, voice cold.

He stood and began tugging off his pants. "Did you believe what I said earlier?"

You hesitated, then shook your head. "Honestly... I think I'm sober enough now. I'll just go."

You swung your legs off the bed, but the moment your feet hit the floor your body caved under its own weight.

"Yeah." He said quickly, pulling the blanket aside. "You're not going anywhere."

He settled beside you again comfortably... too comfortable.

"Just drink some water and chill. You'll be fine."

You didn't answer, you just turned your back to him, facing the wall.

"Are you really that mad at me?" He murmured, breath warm on your skin.

You didn't answer him, just exhaled irritated, flipping over onto your side, your back facing him. You rolled your eyes when you felt the bed dip as he moved closer, his chest pressing up against your back.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "C'mon." He murmured, coaxing. "You know I didn't mean it."

You scoffed, unmoved. "You know, you're the most exhausting person in the entire world."

"Yeah?" He replied lowly. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, then drifted down to your neck, the touch barely there.

"Yeah." You snapped, though your voice was softer now. "And you're... you're the worst person I've ever met."

"I know." He whispered again, a little grin in his tone, like he liked the way you hated him, like he wanted to see how far you'd go before breaking.

His hand slid lower, trailing slowly down your torso. His fingers dipped under the waistband of your underwear, grazing the skin there before slipping inside.

You inhaled sharply as his fingertips brushed against your slickness, teasing your folds slowly. He pressed a kiss to your neck, hotter now.

"Wow." He breathed, lips dragging over your skin. "So wet."

You swallowed back a moan, breath hitching. "You really think you deserve to be fucked right now?" You murmured, voice low and shaky, but still sharp.

"I don't." He admitted softly, the words brushing against your skin. "But you do."

He flattened his tongue against your neck, licking a slow line up to your ear before whispering, "Use me."

That made you stop.

You turned your head slowly, facing him now. His eyes met yours, darker and glossier than before. He meant it, you could see it in the way his mouth parted, in the way his breath caught when your eyes locked.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, voice eager in a way it's never been before.

"Keep going." You said quietly.

He smiled, but it vanished the second he dipped his head, mouth devouring your neck again, lips, tongue, and teeth dragging across your skin. His fingers moved more now, rubbing slow circles over your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance, just barely pushing in.

"I'll do whatever you want." He whispered, fingers still working you open. "Just tell me."

His mouth stayed on your neck, trailing open mouthed kisses, tongue dragging across the skin like he was trying to taste every sound you made. But it was his fingers that kept you gasping, pushing deeper now, curling perfectly inside you while his thumb rolled slow circles over your clit.

You arched into his hand. He groaned lowly against your throat, the sound muffled, almost like he was trying to stay quiet, but couldn't help himself.

His fingers fucked into you harder, knuckles brushing slick heat with every movement. You were so wet, your arousal coating his hand and sliding down your thighs, the sound of it filling the room.

You cried out when he slipped a third finger in without warning, stretching you wider. Your hand shot out, gripping at the sheets trying to ground yourself.

Your body jerked when his thumb pressed harder, rolling faster circles right over the spot that made you twitch. He felt the way you clenched around his fingers, and he didn't let up.

He fucked you with his fingers like he knew you better than you knew yourself. Like he wanted to pull every sound out of you, every reaction, until there was nothing left of your pride— just need.

He buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin, breath hot as he kept moving his fingers inside you.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, your body tensing, even then his fingers didn't stop. They kept driving into you, rough and fast, curling just right inside you. He had you locked in place, your back flush to his chest, his other arm wrapped firm around your waist, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

You choked on a moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as your hips bucked.

"Fuck." You whimpered out.

Your whole body jerked, clenching around his fingers as you came with a loud cry. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as your orgasm hit you hard.

He didn't slow down, even as you finished, he kept fucking you with his fingers, your nails were digging into the sheets.

Your body fell against him, boneless, twitching slightly as the aftershocks rolled through you.

Your breath was still shaky, body still twitching, but something shifted in you. You turned in his grip, and before he could process it you pushed him back, flipping him onto his back with force that even surprised him.

He hit the mattress with a grunt, eyes wide, caught between confusion and anticipation.

He reached for your underwear, fingers sliding to the waistband like he thought he was still in control.

"No." You said flatly, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down against the bed.

He blinked up at you, eyebrows raised. "Seriously?" He muttered, cocking his head. "You're gonna make me wait like that?"

You didn't answer. Instead, your grip tightening on his wrists. "Did I ask you to speak?"

His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. He stared up at you stunned. For once, he had nothing to say.

You released one wrist and tapped his cheek lightly. "Aw, look at that. You're doing good already, such a fast learner."

He didn't respond, just stared at you like he didn't recognize this version of you— and maybe he didn't. Maybe he never knew how far you could push him.

You slid your hips forward once, just enough for your soaked underwear to press against him— enough for him to feel how close you were, how warm you were, without giving him anything.

He gasped.

You froze immediately, smiling wider. "I barely even moved." You whispered, tilting your head. "And you're already gasping?"

His hands curled into fists against the sheets, his jaw flexing, trying to hold it in.

Too late.

You rolled your hips again slower, dragging yourself against him, the heat and friction driving him crazy. He let out a low groan, biting his lip, but the noise still slipped free.

You laughed softly. "That's pathetic." You said, voice silky. "Already whining like I've done something special."

He arched into you slightly, but you pressed your palm against his chest, holding him down.

You didn't give him time to recover.

Your hips started moving again, slow at first, rolling into him with that same cruel precision, but the moment you felt the way he twitched under you, the way his breath caught and his fingers tightened in the sheets, you picked up the pace, faster and rougher.

Your nails dug into his chest for balance as you rode him, hips snapping against his, your soaked underwear still pressed between you both, friction building unbearably fast. His eyes were locked on you now. His mouth parted in a soundless moan, like he couldn't even form words anymore.

You leaned in close, lips brushing his jaw without kissing him. "Feels good, doesn't it?" You whispered against his skin, your breath heavy. "Getting used like this."

He didn't answer, couldn't. He just whimpered and it only made you grind down harder, circling your hips once slowly before slamming down again.

You were close, too. You could feel it starting to burn low in your stomach, spreading fast. Your rhythm grew more erratic, desperate even, but you refused to lose control. You kept him pinned, your hand against his chest, pushing down hard.

He bucked his hips up, trying to match your movements, chasing it, gasping now. His hands flew up to grab at your waist like he needed something to hold onto.

His mouth was moving, voice cracking. "Fuck, please, I'm gonna—"

You slammed your hips down harder, cutting him off, and he cried out. You could feel him trembling under you, his whole body tightening.

"Please let me come, fuck. I need it, I can't... I'm so close, please—"

You smirked through your own breathing. "You're begging now?" You murmured. "Look at you..."

He nodded, barely able to breathe, a wreck beneath you.

You were right there too, your body shaking with restraint, trying not to come first— trying to hold on long enough to decide if you were going to let him finish at all.

You didn't slow down. Not when his moans got louder, not when his hands clawed at your hips, not even when his head tipped back and his mouth dropped open with a gasp that sounded more like a sob.

You felt it— his whole body tensing beneath you, a sharp cry coming from his throat as he came in his boxers, hot and messy between your bodies. His thighs jerked uncontrollably, his chest heaving, hands gripping you tightly, but you didn't stop, you didn't even pause.

You kept moving, dragging your soaked heat against him through the aftermath of his high, hips grinding harder.

"Look at you." You murmured with a soft laugh. "Didn't even last, came in your fucking boxers like some desperate boy."

He whimpered under you, blinking up at you like he couldn't believe you were still moving.

You rolled your hips again slowly, and his whole body shuddered violently.

"Fuck— fuck, please." He gasped, voice shaking, louder now, eyes wide. "I can't, it's too much."

You grabbed his jaw, forcing his face back towards yours. "Then take it."

"Please, I can't. I'll come again— please stop, please."

But you didn't.

You kept going, eyes locked on his, breathing heavy. His moans turned to gasps, then to whines, his body twitching violently with every pass of your hips.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his voice cracking.

Your hips moved faster, and the more he squirmed under you, the louder he got, the harder you rode him. His boxers were soaked now— warm and sticky.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You said, head falling back as your movements became messier.

Your body tensed, a choked moan coming from your throat as you reached your climax, your thighs trembling. And under you he was still squirming, overstimulated, but you stayed on him, letting the last shocks of your orgasm pulse through both of you.

You finally slowed, thighs trembling slightly as you lifted yourself off of him.

He looked ruined— flushed, hair a mess, his boxers soaked and sticking to him in the most humiliating way. His chest was still rising and falling hard, but as you sat beside him, a smile broke across his face.

"Shit." He exhaled, glancing over at you with a dazed grin. "That was... fuck, so good. Round two? Can we— can we actually fuck now?" He said, with faint left over arrogance.

You didn't say anything right away. You just stared at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parting like you were considering it. Then you tilted your head and gave him a look so cold, so dry, it silenced him instantly.

"Honestly?" You said. "You can go fuck yourself."

His smile dropped. "W— what?"

"You heard me." You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows. "You can go fuck yourself."

He blinked clearly confused. "Wait— like... actually?"

You gave him a dark smile. "Right here. With me watching."

He stared, completely stunned.

"Well?" You asked. "I'm waiting."

He swallowed hard, then his hand started to move, slowly slipping beneath the waistband of his ruined boxers, his eyes locked on yours the whole time.

You didn't blink, didn't look away, you just leaned back fully, legs still slightly spread, gaze sharp as you watched him obey.

He was flushed, chest still heaving from everything you'd already done to him, and now here he was... obeying you, shame blooming across his face as he started to stroke himself.

You tilted your head, eyes fixed on the motion, the slick sounds already starting to fill the quiet space between you.

"God." You exhaled, voice low and amused. "Look at you."

His eyes flicked up to yours, like he was searching for something, permission, praise, maybe relief? Whatever it was, you weren't going to give it to him.

"Didn't even last five minutes, and you're already hard again?" You taunted. "You're actually pathetic."

His pace faltering for just a second before picking up again— faster this time, more desperate.

"Don't slow down." You warned, shifting slightly to spread your legs wider, giving him a full view as you sat back, one hand dragging down your inner thigh casually.

He bit his lip, nodding quickly, his hand moving faster now, breathing turning shaky again. His eyes stayed locked on you, taking in the way you sat there, smug, but still a bit flushed from your own orgasm. Your presence alone had him falling apart again.

"You gonna come again just from your hand?" You whispered. "With me watching you like this?"

He let out a shaky gasp, his hips jerking upward slightly and you caught it instantly.

"Oh my god." You said, laughing softly. "You're gonna do it, aren't you? Finish like this all messy and pathetic with me just sitting here." You reached forward, dragging a single fingertip up the inside of his thigh, not touching him where he needed, just enough to make him twitch.

His whole body tensed again, a broken moan escaping his throat as his hand sped up, gasping, eyes locked on you like he needed your gaze just to fall apart.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" He cried out, voice cracking.

You leaned in, lips nearly brushing his ear.

"Do it." You whispered.

His whole body tensed up, a loud whimper escaping his throat as he came for the second time.

You just watched, your legs spread lazily, one hand propping you up while the other dragged absentminded patterns against your inner thigh like you weren't even all that impressed, like he wasn't anything special.

"Aw. Was that hard for you?" You asked, voice filled with condescension.

He didn't answer, couldn't. His lips parted like he might try, but nothing came out. Just a shaky exhale as he turned his head to look at you, face red, chest flushed, hands twitching slightly like he didn't know where to put them now.

"Twice in one night." You said, dragging your finger up your thigh again. "Didn't even need to touch you the second time." You said, laughing under your breath.

You stayed still for a moment longer, watching him breathe, his chest still rising hard.

You tilted your head slightly. "Come here."

He didn't hesitate, just nodded, crawling forward slowly. His knees shifted across the mattress until he was right in front of you waiting, still caught in whatever trance you'd pulled him into.

You gave a soft sigh, pausing for a second, looking at him. "On second thought... I'm bored with you."

His face dropped slightly, eyes growing just a little wider, and his mouth opened like he didn't know if he'd heard you right.

"W— what?" He said, blinking fast. "No, no, wait, I can— I can make you not bored. Just tell me what to do, I'll do anything, really."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You're really this desperate?" You said flatly. "For... casual, regular, simple sex?"

He paused, didn't answer right away. "I'm sorry." He said quickly, too quick. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean— I mean I just.. please, I didn't mean to make it feel like that. I didn't mean to ruin it—"

"Stop talking." You cut in. "I'm done with you."

His mouth hung open, chest still moving, eyes searching yours for any sign of mercy.

"Now please..." You said, voice dropping colder than ever. "Go shower, you're fucking disgusting."

He froze, letting out a faint exhale.

And then absurdly, he smiled. Just a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

He stood up slowly, and left the room without another word. You laid back down, flipping onto your side again, the exact same position you'd been in before all of it started, your lips curved up just slightly in a satisfied smile.

══════════════════════════

You woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds. For a moment, you didn't know where you were, but sheets smelled faintly like him— distinctly Haechan. You blinked the haze out of your eyes, gradually sitting up.

Next to you, Haechan sat propped against the headboard, absently scrolling through his phone like it was any normal morning. You turned slightly, watching him for a second. He looked relaxed, completely unbothered, like last night never even happened.

"Oh, you're awake." He said, glancing over at you.

You didn't respond right away, just swung your legs off the side of the bed, grounding yourself with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor. Your head still felt slightly heavy, the remnants of everything from the night before pressing down on your chest.

"Um, you hungry?" He added, his tone light.

"I'll probably just pick up something on the way home." You muttered, about to stand.

"Wait—" He said quickly, sitting up straighter. "I can... I can just cook us something."

You shook your head gently, already pushing yourself to your feet. "You're good, I swear—"

"And I have to talk to you about something." He added, cutting you off mid sentence.

You froze.

A long moment of silence stretched before you gave in with a quiet sigh and nod, slowly settling back on the edge of the bed.

"Okay." You said simply.

He offered a faint smile before hopping up and leaving the room. "Okay, I'll call you when it's done."

Twenty minutes passed before he called your name from downstairs. You took your time going down, still slightly dazed, still unsure what exactly he had to say.

When you got to the kitchen, the table was set. He was already sitting down, looking up as you walked in.

"Wow." You said with a small smirk. "Didn't know you knew how to cook."

"Surprise." He said with a casual shrug.

You took a bite of the food, eyebrows lifting slightly in approval.

"Good." You muttered, almost reluctantly.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." He grinned, but then: "Oh, what the fuck was that last night?"

You looked up, expecting to see his defenses up, ready to brush things off as a mistake. Instead, his face was lit up with amusement, a grin on his face, no shame.

You giggled, the corner of your mouth twitching. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" He echoed dramatically, setting down his fork. "I mean, how you acted. I've never tried anything like that before."

You tilted your head. "Did you like it?"

"Did I like it? I loved it." He said without hesitation. "I've always wanted to try something like that out before, but I just didn't really trust anyone like that. It just turned me off with other girls, you know? But you—"

He was rambling now, his words flowing fast and unfiltered. "We definitely have to do it again, I mean— if you were into it?"

You smiled faintly, but there was a heaviness sitting behind your eyes. "Oh, so you're not bored anymore, huh?" The words left your mouth before you could pull them back.

The atmosphere immediately changed. He stilled, the brightness in his face dimming as the sound of your fork scraping the plate echoed like thunder in the silence.

"That's what I have to talk to you about, actually." He said, voice low.

You nodded, waiting, watching him gather himself, but then a loud knock suddenly hit the front door.

Both of your heads turned.

He frowned slightly, standing from his chair and walking over. You exhaled slowly, your lips tightening into a strained expression when the door opened.

It was her— the girl from last night.

"Hey, cutie. I think I left my bra here, can I come in?" She said brightly, smiling at him like you didn't exist.

"It's not here." Haechan said, his voice noticeably hushed, like he hoped you couldn't hear.

"No, I'm sure it's here." She said, taking a step forward. "C'mon, let me just take a quick look. Won't take me long— unless you want it to be long."

You didn't have to see him to know he looked exhausted. "Make it quick." He muttered.

She walked in, eyes scanning the place like she owned it. She made a dramatic turn toward the stairs.

"You know it's not up there, so cut it out." Haechan called out, annoyed.

She giggled. "Oh right, silly me. I just figured you would've put it away for me after I left it. Didn't think you'd seriously leave it in the bathroom for anyone to pick up."

Your jaw clenched.

She spun around again, searching the room, and then her gaze landed on you, her smile widening.

"Oh my goodness, this must be your sister? Hi! You're so pretty!"

You scoffed, an actual scoff, sharp and disbelieving as you turned toward Haechan. His eyes were already on you, guilt written all over them.

She disappeared around the corner and returned moments later, holding a black lace bra between her fingers like a trophy. "Found it!" She said, beaming.

"Good, now get out." Haechan snapped.

"Aww, okay." She said playfully, heading for the door. "See you later, cutie."

"Right." His voice was hollow as he shut the door behind her with a loud slam.

Silence.

Then you stood up slowly, pushing your chair back.

"Y/n, I swear—" He started, voice low and cautious.

"Yeah." You said softly, turning towards the stairs.

"Fuck. Y/n, wait—" He reached for your wrist.

You yanked it back. "Get the fuck off of me."

"Can you just let me explain?" He pleaded.

"Let you explain what? Every time you explain, the story changes. There's nothing to explain!" Your voice cracked at the edges, anger and betrayal spilling out in equal measure.

"Look, I know how it looks, but I swear I didn't fuck her."

"Oh?" You scoffed. "Her bra just teleported into your bathroom and now nobody knows what happened? You knew exactly where it was."

"Yeah I know, but we didn't do anything." He insisted.

"So what— she took her bra off for shits and giggles?"

"Yeah." He said, voice shaky.

You just shook your head. "You're a fucking joke."

You walked past him, storming back into his room to grab your pants. He followed you, desperate.

"We didn't fuck, we didn't even kiss— you've gotta believe me."

"Well, I don't. How can I fucking believe you?" You shouted, your voice breaking now as you shoved your shoes on. "You're nothing but a sex addicted, sorry excuse for a human being, and you think I'm seriously gonna believe you?"

He stood there quietly, his chest rising and falling, then something in him snapped.

"Oh, I'm a sorry excuse for a human being?" He shouted. "All that shit you did a year ago and you're talking about me? Take a look at yourself. You run back, don't you? You don't believe me, but you still let me touch you last night, right?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, your whole face twisting, rage bubbling up in your throat.

"Fuck you." You spat, venom in your voice.

"Fuck you." He shot back, almost automatic.

You stormed up to him, eyes burning, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I loved you. I gave you chance after fucking chance and you still fucked it up. People like you will always be lonely, no matter how many girls you fuck or how many you break. No one wants to deal with you."

He didn't speak. His mouth opened slightly, but the words didn't come as his eyes glistened.

"I really thought— God, I really thought that somewhere in there, you had love. That you actually cared about something more than yourself, but you're just a selfish fucking prick."

He opened his mouth again. "Oh, I'm a selfish prick?" His voice cracked now, raised but not loud— just hurt.

"Yeah." You said bitterly. "And I give up, I'm done with you."

You turned and headed for the stairs. He followed again, footsteps frantic behind you.

"Done with me?" He scoffed. "Leave then. I don't give a fuck."

You were already crying as you hit the bottom of the stairs, rushing toward the door. Tears streamed down your face, but you didn't care.

"You're nothing but a body to me. You really think I care?" He called after you, the words landing like a slap.

You stopped cold, hand on the doorknob. Then turned back to look at him one last time.

"Fuck you, Haechan." You whispered through your tears. Then you yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind you, storming to your car without looking back.

The drive home was chaotic, your mind spiraling the entire way. Your grip on the steering wheel was tight. Everything blurred together: Haechan's voice, the girl's face, the slam of the door behind you, it rang in your ears long after you pulled into your driveway.

The second you stepped through the door, you headed straight for the shower. You didn't bother to undress carefully— your clothes were on the floor within seconds. The water was scalding, but you barely noticed. You stood there, letting it rush over you like it could wash away the ache, the sting in your throat from screaming and crying. You scrubbed until your skin was aching, but no matter how hard you tried, the weight inside your chest stayed exactly where it was.

After drying off and pulling on a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, you dropped into bed, damp hair soaking into the pillow. You sat there in silence, the room was still... too still.

You didn't want to be alone— not right now. Your roommates were out, like always. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before biting your lip, reaching for your phone. Your fingers hesitated over your screen, but then instinct took over.

You dialed Jaemin.

It rang once... twice.

Then his voice. "About time I hear from you."

"Jaemin." Your voice cracked around his name, tears you thought were gone welling again.

"What's wrong?" His tone changed immediately. You could picture the way his brows furrowed, his whole face shifting into concern.

"Can you come?" Your voice was so small.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll be there in... fifteen minutes." He paused, then sighed. "Thirty."

"Okay." You whispered.

Thirty five minutes later, a knock landed at your door.

You opened it slowly— and there he was standing with your favorite takeout in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other. His expression was soft, warm, like he was showing up for someone he deeply cared about, and he was.

Your lips wobbled, a pout forming as you tried to keep it together, but your chest caved in again.

"Oh my gosh..." You mumbled.

"Aw, poor baby." He stepped inside immediately, shutting the door behind him before pulling you into his arms.

The moment you buried your face in his chest, you broke. Your tears poured out, soaking his shirt as your fingers clutched at him like you'd drown if you let go. You stayed like that for a while— no words, just his hands gently rubbing your back, his chin resting on your head.

When you finally pulled away, a large wet patch stained his shirt.

"Damn, girl." He said with a soft laugh, tugging at the fabric and inspecting it.

"Sorry." You sniffled, letting out a half laugh through your sorrow.

"It's okay. C'mon, let's go to your room."

His hand settled on your back, guiding you down the hall.

You sat on the edge of your bed, eyes still swollen, nose stuffy, while he placed the food down and peeled off his shirt. He paused, looking down.

"Through the tank top too." He laughed, pulling that off as well.

That's when your eyes landed on his skin— and the faint outline of hickeys scattered across his chest and collarbone.

"Wow." You blinked, eyes widening.

His brows furrowed at first before realization hit him and he chuckled. "I could say the same thing to you." He murmured, walking toward you. His fingers gently ran along the markings on your neck, ghosts from the night before.

You hummed, a quiet sound in your throat as you looked up at him with a small smile.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened now?" He asked gently.

You looked down for a second, then back up at him. "I don't wanna talk about it. Can you just... stay?"

"Yeah, of course." His smile was soft, understanding.

You both climbed into bed. His arm rested around your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow circles into your arm. Your legs brushed under the blanket, your body gradually settling into the quiet comfort of his presence.

After a while, you turned to him. "Why did it take you so long to reach back out?"

He didn't look away. "I just wanted to give you space. I didn't wanna overstep. I figured when you were ready, you'd talk to me, but I couldn't wait anymore so I took the initiative."

"Oh." You nodded slowly, then turned to face him fully. "You really thought I'd reach out first after everything you said?"

He looked at you, guilt flickering across his features. "I realized how stupid that was."

"Mmm." You hummed softly.

Silence followed again. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head against his bare chest. His skin was warm against your cheek, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.

That's when the thoughts came back, rising fast.

"Bro... I don't know." You whispered into his chest. "I really thought he loved me."

His voice was gentle. "Yeah?"

"He acted like he did— sometimes." You said, pulling your head back to look up at him, your eyes glassy again. "I don't know why I'm even still crying over him."

"I understand." He said quietly. "I told you he was trouble."

"I know." You sighed. "I should've listened. Ugh— I really thought I could change him."

That made Jaemin chuckle softly.

"It's not funny." You muttered, swatting his chest lightly.

"I know, I know." He smiled, brushing your tears away with his thumb.

"Listen, it's over now." He murmured, hand sliding down your cheek to cup it softly. "And everything's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay, right?"

You groaned, turning your head away, but his fingers caught your chin and gently guided your face back to his.

"Okay?" He repeated.

You nodded, barely. "Okay."

The space between you changed. His eyes stayed on yours, soft but intense. His hand didn't leave your face and you didn't move either. You leaned in slightly, then stopped yourself.

"It's okay." He whispered, his voice low, his breath brushing against your lips. "Do it."

You hesitated again, but then he leaned in, pausing just an inch away. "Or I will." He added, before finally closing the space.

His lips met yours gently at first, then deeper. You didn't pull away, you melted into him instead— his mouth, his touch, the comfort you hadn't known you needed. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss intensified, growing heavier with each second. His tongue slid into your mouth, slow but sure, as his hands roamed across your body, searching and warm.

Your phone buzzed beside you.

Neither of you paid attention.

He pushed you gently onto your back, settling over you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your cheek, then down your jaw.

Your phone rang.

You glanced over, blinking— and froze.

Haechan lit up the screen.

You closed your eyes, heart twisting, fingers tangling into your hair as Jaemin's lips moved across your neck, leaving kisses— soft at first, then rougher.

His mouth found a sensitive spot, and you gasped, your body reacting before your mind could keep up.

The phone rang again.

Then again.

You tried to ignore it, tried to stay in the moment, but the name flashing on the screen was too loud.

Jaemin kissed you again, lower now, but your mind was somewhere else.

The phone rang once more.

"Wait— wait." You interrupted, breath catching as your eyes snapped open.

Jaemin pulled back immediately, eyes wide with concern as he sat up. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm just— my phone's blowing up, and I'm really distracted and like..." You paused, pressing your lips together before biting down on the bottom one. "Sorry, can we just... do this later?"

His expression softened, cheeks still a little flushed. "Of course." He said gently, offering a small smile. "You don't have to be sorry."

You exhaled slowly, sitting up further and grabbing for your phone. "Who's blowing up your phone?" Jaemin asked, shifting beside you, propping himself on an elbow.

You thumbed through the notifications, scanning them from the bottom. "Spam." You muttered, dismissing a message from an unknown number.

"And... Haechan." You added, your voice quieting. You turned your phone toward Jaemin. "Four missed calls, two voicemails."

Jaemin scoffed, his jaw tensing slightly. "When did he get so fucking desperate?"

You shrugged, trying not to let the knot in your chest twist tighter, but something poked at you— nagging and insistent. "I never asked." You said, turning to him with a squint. "But... how do you even know this guy?"

"Oh." He said, blinking like he hadn't expected the question. "I met him last year. We had a class together, I don't know how he was a junior and I was a freshman, but hey. I started hanging out with his friend group, got super close, and that's it."

"So you're close?" You asked, head tilting.

"Yeah, something like that." He said, casually shrugging.

"Mmm." You hummed in response, nodding slowly. Then your thumb hovered over the voicemails. "Do you wanna listen to the voicemails with me?"

You tried to play it off with a smile, but truthfully your heart was racing. You were going to listen to them anyway— you just didn't want to be alone when you did.

Jaemin leaned back, resting against the headboard. "Sure, sweetums. Whatever makes you happy."

You gave a faint laugh, then opened the phone app and turned your volume all the way up. The first voicemail clicked on.

For a second, there was only heavy breathing, then his voice burst through the speaker— shaky, broken.

"Now you can't answer the fucking phone, huh? I know you see my calls, Y/n."

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you and Jaemin froze, listening.

"I fucking loved you— I love you, and you're just gonna walk out on me like I'm nothing? You're nothing—"

His voice cracked, like he was barely holding back tears.

"I'm gonna kill him." Jaemin shook his head in disbelief.

"Shh." You cut in quickly, swatting at his arm, your eyes not moving from the phone.

"I— and you're probably with Jaemin right now, aren't you?" Haechan's voice rasped.

You glanced at Jaemin with a twitch of a smile, but it dropped instantly.

"Like he isn't the cause of all this— like he didn't set this whole thing up. Yeah, bet you didn't know that, did you? That little jealous, selfish fucker. Trying to take you away from everyone, but can't even love you himself. And you're there? With him? Pitiful."

The room dropped into silence, tension thick enough to choke on.

You turned to Jaemin slowly, your expression tight, unsettled. "What the fuck is he talking about, Jaemin?"

His eyes stayed on yours, but something darker lingered in his gaze now. "He's lying."

"He's lying?" You echoed, brows furrowing. "Yeah, well it doesn't sound like he's lying."

"He's fucking lying to you, Y/n." Jaemin said firmly.

You shook your head, struggling to breathe evenly. "Why would he— he wouldn't— why would he say that though? Of all things, why that? He has no reason to lie... not about you. He doesn't even know what you are to me, he doesn't know we're this close, he probably doesn't know we even know each other."

"You're really about to question me right now?" Jaemin asked, voice rising with disbelief.

"I just don't know why he would say that." You admitted, voice cracking, hands shaking slightly as you stared down at your phone.

Then, something sparked in the back of your mind— the unknown number from earlier. You'd thought it was spam, but the area code was local, and something about it gnawed at you now.

"He's lying to you. You're seriously gonna let him shake you up like this—"

"Just shut the fuck up for a second, Jaemin. Please." Your tone was urgent, as you unlocked your phone and opened the text.

Unknown [4:28 PM]:

"Hey girly. Sorry to text you like this, I'm the one who left her bra at Haechan's house and I'm sorry about that. I didn't know stuff was serious between you two or that I was wrecking anything. I was completely left in the dark... I would never purposely do that. I was told you were just one of his hookups. Me and him never even fucked— he rejected me and left. I left my bra there on purpose so I could come back, just in case you were there in the morning. I hope this clears everything up. I'm sorry for the mess we caused."

You stared at the message, heart thudding.

You [4:48 PM]:

"Who's "we"?"

She replied instantly.

Unknown [4:50 PM]:

"Jaemin. That asshole. He knew I liked him, and he told me to be all up on Haechan, to try to hook up. Told me to leave my shit there so I could come back if the girl (you?) was still there in the morning. He described your car, said to be as annoying as possible. Told me he'd get with me if I did and I was stupid and believed him. We met up earlier today, he got head and left. Said 'this was fun' but he had to go. So fucking sick of men lol. Sorry again girl, I hope you get everything sorted out."

Your entire body went cold. Your hands trembled as you read the message once... then again.

"Jaemin." Your voice was flat now as you turned to him slowly. "The girl just told me what you did."

He rolled his eyes. "Great, now he's got a bitch lying on me too."

"You really believe that?" He added. "You believe them over your best friend?"

"I don't know what to believe right now." You said, breath unsteady. "But all I know is that Haechan would not go this far to lie... about you."

"Right, okay." He scoffed, shaking his head. "This dude broke your heart a million times, fucked a girl, had her pop up outta nowhere with a literal bra as evidence, and you believe him over me? After everything? I've always had your back. Yeah, I fucked up once or twice, but I always looked out for you— and you're really gonna believe them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, to agree with him, honestly, but then something snapped into place.

Your eyes narrowed. "How the fuck did you know that?"

Jaemin blinked. "Know what?"

"How did you know that she left her bra?" You repeated, voice rising. "I never told you that. So how do you know?"

His silence was immediate.

"How do you know, Jaemin!?" You sat up in the bed, your voice cracked and full of betrayal.

He let out a sharp breath, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "Shit."

Your eyes welled up, you couldn't believe this. "It's you." You whispered.

"Y/n—"

"It's been you." You said, more firmly now, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Will you just relax." He muttered, calm in a way that only made it worse.

You stared at him, stunned. "Relax? You tried sabotage my relationship."

"You weren't together. So I didn't do anything." He said flatly.

"I loved him." Your voice trembled as tears filled your eyes. "I actually loved him and you ruined us— you ruined me."

"I ruined you?" He said with wide eyes, voice incredulous. "That's not how I remember it. I remember saving you. Keeping you from drinking too much, from drugs, from dying, but I ruined you?"

"Yeah." You said, voice sharp through the sob in your throat. "You're the reason."

He scoffed again. "I protected you. I was knocking out obstacles. Look what happened with the last guy, you healed when you were with me. You didn't need him, and you don't need Haechan either. As long as I'm here, you'll be fine, you'll have someone who actually loves you."

"You rejected me." You said, your voice a whisper.

"Yeah?" He shrugged, unmoved. "But I want you now, so..."

You froze. A single tear slipped down your cheek and you wiped it away with shaking fingers.

"You... you want me now?" You said with a bitter laugh.

"Mhm." He nodded. "Not like you haven't chosen me before. Do it again. e can be together."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't want to be with you."

His expression dropped, his eyes finally showing emotion.

"I don't want to see you again." You said, standing up. "I don't even want to know you."

"Wow. After everything I've done for you?" He snapped.

"Get out." Your voice cracked through the air.

"Seriously?"

"Get your shit and leave— now." You pointed to the door.

He scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Let's see how long until you come crawling back."

You stood there, arms crossed, chest aching as you watched him gather his things, not saying another word, and when the door slammed shut behind him, you didn't cry. You just stood there in the silence, your thoughts racing like a storm you couldn't outrun, crashing into each other with no direction.

You paced around your room, feet dragging over the floor like they couldn't decide where to go next. Then your eyes landed on the flowers and takeout bag sitting on your dresser— Jaemin's "comfort gifts" a gesture that now felt so calculated.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed them both with trembling hands and marched to the trash can, shoving them inside like they were toxic. The flowers crumpled, petals breaking beneath your force. The food spilled open, untouched, as the bag collapsed into the bin. You stood over it, chest rising and falling, arms tense at your sides.

That's when you realized tears were falling now. They slipped quietly down your cheeks, and you didn't even feel them until they hit your lips. You wiped them away hastily with the back of your hand, sniffing hard as you made your way back to your room, sitting down slowly on your bed.

You grabbed your phone, thumb hesitating over the screen before you tapped back into the voicemail from earlier. You played it again, letting Haechan's broken voice echo through the room, analyzing every syllable, every pause, hoping— desperately hoping that you'd catch something off, something that would prove he was lying, that Jaemin hadn't been the villain after all.

But deep down, you knew.

You weren't looking for the truth, you were just looking for something to hold onto.

Your eyes drifted to the second voicemail— the one you hadn't played yet. It sat there like a wound you hadn't touched. You stared at it, your thumb hovering over the play button, part of you wanted to delete it, let it die in the silence, move on.

You needed to, you knew that. It was the healthy thing to do.

But your heart didn't want clean, it wanted closure, connection. Something... anything, to explain why this all hurt so much.

You took a deep shaky breath, then hit play. There was silence at first like the last, then his voice— rough and cracked, the sound of someone unraveling.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do, Y/n. I really don't."

You blinked, heart already pulling tight.

"I didn't do anything— I didn't do anything with her. Can you just come back and I'll explain everything, I swear. Just please... come back. Fuck, please, I love you. I'm sorry, I do. Just come back."

A pause. You could hear the faint clatter of something in the background. Then... a breathless, broken sob.

"Come back."

The voicemail ended, but the silence afterward felt louder. You sat there for a long moment, your mind numb, your heart in your throat. You swung your legs off the bed, planting your feet on the ground, tapping one nervously against the floor as your hand curled into a fist. You bit down on your lip, hard, then stood. You didn't even grab a jacket, you just grabbed your keys and walked out the door.

The drive was a blur.

Your thoughts were spinning too fast to keep up. What were you doing? What were you expecting? Maybe he wasn't even home anymore, maybe he'd already moved on or maybe— maybe this was you being weak.

But still, you kept going.

When you got to his place, you knocked. Once... twice, then harder— nothing.

You waited another moment before pulling out your phone and dialing his number. No answer, your fingers hovered over the doorknob. You hesitated, then tried it and it was unlocked.

"Haechan?" You called softly, peeking your head inside.

No answer.

You were ready to walk away. You were so close, so close to leaving it all behind, but then your eyes landed on the full sized bottle sitting open on the counter, almost empty.

You stepped inside cautiously, shutting the door behind you. "Haechan?"

No response.

Your fingers tightened around the bottle as you picked it up, eyes narrowing in worry. Something didn't feel right. The air was still, too still. You moved through the kitchen, then slowly up the stairs, calling his name again, voice low but urgent.

You checked the bathroom, empty. Then you turned to his bedroom— and your heart stopped.

He was there, sprawled across his bed, deathly pale. One hand rested limply on his stomach, the other clutched his phone, your contact still lit up on the screen. On the nightstand beside him sat another half drained bottle of liquor.

"Shit." You whispered, rushing over.

You dropped to your knees beside the bed, pressing your hand to his cheek... ice cold.

Your panic surged, but you quickly placed two fingers against his neck. There it was, a pulse. Weak, but steady.

You exhaled, body trembling in relief. "Jesus." You muttered, rubbing your temples as you looked around the room. You reached for the trash can, dragging it beside the bed in case he threw up, turning his body to the side. Then you grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and carried it downstairs, pouring what was left into the sink.

You filled a glass with water, your hands shaking slightly as you brought it back upstairs and set it down beside him. You watched him for a second, debating. You should probably go, he wouldn't even remember this, but as you looked at him—his lashes resting softly on pale cheeks, his chest rising and falling slowly, the phone still gripped in his hand, your feet didn't move. You sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through your phone, not even seeing the screen. You stayed there, just... watching him, listening for changes in his breathing, checking to make sure he didn't roll onto his back again or get sick.

Eventually, your body gave in to the weight of the night. You curled beside him, not too close, but close enough, eyes slowly beginning to drift shut.

Your eyes opened slowly, a low throb at your temples as you blinked through the dim room. It was dark, the soft hum of the ceiling fan above breaking the stillness. You glanced at your phone. 1:02 a.m.

You sighed, sitting up carefully. The air in the room was heavy and quiet, your body aching in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. You rubbed at your eyes, brushing away the fuzz, and glanced over at Haechan.

He was still knocked out, body sprawled carelessly across the bed. You noticed the empty water glass on the nightstand, then the trash can beside the bed— once empty, now not. You scrunched your nose at the smell, stepping past it and picking up the glass quietly.

You hadn't even heard him get sick.

Downstairs the faucet's low pressure fell into the cup. You stood in the kitchen in silence, the chilled water settling in the glass as you stared out the window. When you returned and placed the glass down beside him, his voice cut softly through the quiet: "Thank you."

You jumped, not expecting him to be awake.

He was lying there, eyes open now, watching you with a mixture of exhaustion and something else.

"Mmm." You hummed in response, brushing it off with a nod. You turned away without another word and headed for the door.

"Your stomach's been growling all night." He said behind you, voice low but casual.

You paused, half smiling bitterly. "Yeah." You murmured, then kept walking.

"You wanna get some food? We could go downtown or something."

You stopped again, letting out a slow, heavy breath. "Kinda far, I'll probably just hit a late night diner."

"Let me take you." He offered.

That was it. You turned, already irritated. "You really think I'm gonna let you drive me anywhere after the state I found you in tonight?" Before he could answer, your voice cut sharper. "That means no, you cannot take me."

He hesitated, eyes flickering down, before looking back up. "Can I come with you then?"

You stared at him, unblinking. "You just don't give up, do you?"

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You wanna talk, don't you? Why else would you be here?"

"Not over food. So there's no reason for you to come."

He didn't respond, just gave you that look— soft.

You rolled your eyes and exhaled. "Fine, come on."

The car ride was dead silent. The glow of the streetlights washed over both of you, passing over your face like waves. You stared straight ahead, gripping the wheel, jaw tight. When you pulled into the diner parking lot, the familiarity hit like a punch to the chest. You didn't know why it stung— maybe because you'd sat here before with Jaemin, laughing, maybe because it used to feel warm. Now it just felt like a graveyard of memories.

You walked in, Haechan following behind. At the counter, the cashier's eyes flicked between the two of you.

"Is it separate or together?" She asked.

"Separate—" You started, but was cut off.

"Together." Haechan said quickly, pulling out his wallet without even glancing at you.

You looked at him coldly, then turned back. "Tenders and fries, please."

The cashier nodded. You walked away without waiting for him and slid into the booth by the window, arms crossing over your chest as you stared out into the parking lot. Your fingers fiddled with the napkin dispenser, anything to avoid thinking about the seat across from you— the one Jaemin had used to sit in.

Eventually, Haechan made his way over, setting two drinks down and sliding one across to you. You didn't look up, just took a sip.

"Look." He began, voice careful. "I know it's a lot right now, but—"

"You need help." You cut him off sharply. "I seriously thought you were dead."

He blinked, surprised at the force of your words. You looked up for the first time, and the look in your eyes stopped him mid thought.

"I didn't even drink that much." He said, trying to justify it.

"If I didn't come, you would've been gone." Your voice cracked slightly. "You were on your back when I found you, you could've choked on your own vomit."

His expression softened. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"Don't apologize to me. Get help."

He went quiet, then his brows furrowed slightly. "Are you sober?"

You shot him a warning look, eyes narrowing.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "I'm— I'm gonna go get the food." He slid out of the booth and walked away, his eyes lingering on you until the last second.

When he returned, he set the tray down gently. You didn't speak— you just picked up a tender and took a bite, the warmth immediately grounding you. Your shoulders relaxed slightly, the food didn't solve anything, but it filled the aching pit in your stomach you didn't realize had formed. You ate quickly, staring at the plate the whole time. When you looked up, Haechan was staring.

"What?" You asked.

"Nothing." He smiled. "You just... look like you feel better. You were definitely hangry."

You shook your head, almost laughing through your nose, he wasn't wrong. Hunger mixed with betrayal and heartbreak made a vile combo.

"I just can't believe this. Why is this happening to me?" You said softly. You paused, staring into your cup. "He was my best friend."

Haechan nodded. "Yeah, I understand."

You looked at him suspiciously. His words felt... rehearsed, familiar, like they weren't really his.

"Are you hiding anything from me?" You asked, eyes locked on him.

He avoided your gaze. "You said you didn't want to talk over food."

You nodded slowly... that was not a no.

Once the meal was over, you got back in the car.

"Can we make a stop? Please?" He asked before you pulled off.

"Haechan—"

"Please." He said again. "It's not far."

You sighed heavily and handed him your phone. He typed in the destination quietly.

The drive wasn't long, but the confusion in your chest grew stronger with every mile.

You pulled into a small, empty parking lot surrounded by nothing but open land. Before you could ask questions, he was already getting out of the car.

"C'mon." He said, walking around to your side.

You followed slowly, suspicious but curious. He took your hand gently, guiding you down a gravel path, and there it was.

A glowing rose garden, soft lights woven around the path like stars had melted into the earth and at the end sat a single bench facing the sea of red.

You froze, heart twisting. It should've been beautiful— romantic even, but all you felt was suspicion.

The flowers, the food, the timing. It was all too perfect... too planned.

"Why are we here?" You asked, voice low and guarded.

He turned to you. "You said red calms you down... so I thought it would be the best place for us to talk."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the heat in your eyes. You nodded once, quietly, and sat beside him. Your hands folded in your lap, your gaze locked on the roses.

"How much did he tell you— what did he tell you?" Haechan said, voice steady.

You didn't answer at first, you just turned your head toward him, eyes heavy with exhaustion— not just from the night, but from everything. The silence was answer enough.

He nodded slowly, inhaling through his nose. "Okay." He said, the word landing like a weight. "I'll just start from the very beginning."

You turned back toward the glowing field of red, letting the gentle sway of the roses distract your thoughts as you waited.

"I guess this whole thing started the third time you came to one of my parties— when he tried to get revenge on me through my sister."

You turned your head, surprised. "You knew about that?"

He gave a dry chuckle, his gaze lowered. "Yeah, I'm not stupid. I figured it out the second time, it didn't take much."

You just nodded, letting him continue.

"I confronted him about it, kind of threatened him, I guess, but I wasn't really worried about him and my sister. I was more worried about you. I was... interested, wanted to know more about you, but I didn't have your number and nobody seemed to know much, except Jaemin."

He shifted slightly beside you, hands in his lap.

"So I told him to bring you again. He got weird— defensive even. Kept saying it wasn't a good idea. Seemed like he was genuinely trying to protect you, but I didn't care. I told him it was gonna be a problem if he didn't, and next thing I knew, you showed up again." He shrugged faintly.

You blinked slowly, jaw clenched. A lot of the missing pieces were starting to surface now, things that once seemed random now had weight.

"That's when we started to get close and he started to distance himself from me. I figured he was still wrapped up in the whole thing with my sister. He probably thought I'd flip out or get hurt, but I didn't care. He thought I would... but I didn't." He gave a bitter laugh. "I knew my sister, I knew she'd never really fall for someone like him."

You stayed quiet, your arms folded tightly against yourself.

"Then that one night— where I was really fucked up and you were there... I don't remember much, but I remember waking up and holding you. And I panicked, I kicked you out because I didn't know how to process it, I've never felt that way before. So I sat on it for a while and ended up telling my friends, including Jaemin, that I liked you— that I thought I was ready for something real."

Your breath caught slightly in your chest. You turned to face him again, eyes wide and glassy. He liked you, he had wanted something real. You thought you would never hear those words from him. Your heart clenched as your gaze slowly fell away again, back to the roses.

"It took a lot of growth for me to get there." He continued. "I'd been through so much shit— things that made me feel like I wasn't capable of love. My friends knew that, they were happy for me. All of them, except Jaemin. He just... went cold, looked almost sad."

Haechan's voice lowered, like he was reliving it. "I asked him what was wrong. That's when he told me— told me that you were the one who hurt my brother badly. I didn't believe him at first, but then he showed me the picture."

Your jaw clenched instantly. Of course. Jaemin was the only one who had it, you should've questioned how Haechan ever got it, but you hadn't. You didn't think you needed to.

"I felt like everything shattered at once." He said quietly. "Everyone just stared at me. They knew how bad that whole situation with my brother had been, it broke me. So I panicked, I called you over to confront you. But I didn't know how to handle it— I was overwhelmed, scared you might hurt me the same way, so I lashed out. I hated myself for it right after. I felt ashamed, like I could never get things right. So I told you not to talk, not yet, because I needed to think."

He let out a long sigh. "I ended up talking to my brother. Told him about you, about how I felt. And you know what he said? He told me to do whatever felt right, that he didn't care about the past, that he wouldn't stand in the way just because of what happened before, that he wasn't gonna cockblock me over something that was done."

He chuckled softly, almost with disbelief. "God, I love him."

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat.

"After that, I started thinking again, really thinking, and then I realized something didn't sit right. Like... why didn't Jaemin tell me this before? He's known my brother so long, if he knew about what happened, why wait until now?"

You bit your lip, voice low. "He probably didn't think it mattered. Thought I wouldn't fall for you."

Haechan nodded slowly. "Yeah, exactly." He shook his head. "None of it added up. That's when I knew— I had to hear your side for real this time. So I texted you, I wasn't sure if you'd even reply. I could tell you were checking out, but you did and when I came over and you told me everything... it clicked." His voice softened.

"It was not you that was problem with my brother, at least not the after math, it was Jaemin. He took you when you were most vulnerable, and he manipulated you, he manipulated you and hurt my brother while doing so."

You stared ahead, the numbness seeping back in. A slow burning cold spread through your chest. He was right, that's all Jaemin ever did. Took what he needed when he needed it, made you feel like something valuable— until he didn't.

"I confronted him a few days later." Haechan went on, voice bitter now. "I was about to beat the shit out of him, honestly. My friends held me back. I told him straight up that I was going to be with you, and there was nothing he could do to stop me."

He paused, jaw clenched.

"That's when he threatened me. Said he had nudes of my sister, and he'd expose them if I didn't back off. I didn't know if it was true, but I was terrified. He already hurt one of my siblings— I wasn't about to risk another."

Your hand trembled slightly in your lap, but you said nothing.

"Then you called. Of course, perfect timing. He told me to answer, told me to invite you to the party. Said we were gonna make sure you left for good and made up some big plan— some twisted scenario where I'd hurt you, make it so bad you'd never come back. I told him you wouldn't come, but I think... deep down I knew you would. I prayed you wouldn't, but I knew you would."

His voice cracked slightly.

"I called my sister after, desperate for clarity, but she was on some trip with no data, I was alone in it. Then you walked in and everything fell apart. I couldn't stop anything, I didn't know what to do, there was nothing I could do. So I disappeared to the bathroom, that girl followed me, started undressing— I wasn't into it. And then finally my sister called back and came to pick me up so we could talk in person at her place. She said she had never sent Jaemin anything. He was bluffing, just buying time and I'd let him."

He ran a hand through his hair.

The memories from the night flooded in, seeing them together, Jaemin slipping in and apologizing out of nowhere, his friends looking for him and saying he wasn't with a girl.

"I was gonna confront him again. Do worse this time, but you texted me... you needed a place to crash and I realized, that was it. That was my chance, I needed to be there for you, not focus on him."

You swallowed hard.

"I wanted to tell you everything that night." He said. "But you were out of it, I just needed to keep you there till morning, and when I was finally about to explain... she showed up and it ruined everything. I knew it was Jaemin, but before I got the chance you started leaving and saying all that stuff to me. I panicked again, said things I didn't mean. I didn't even know why, I just wanted to hurt you before you could hurt me anymore."

"She came back later. " He continued. "Crying, saying Jaemin ghosted her. I gave her your number, told her to tell you what she told me. I didn't know if you'd believe it, I just... hoped. I started calling you, figured you were with him and the next thing I knew... I blacked out and that's it."

Silence.

You stared at the roses, their soft red glow blurring in your vision. You felt raw, carved out.

"You okay?" He asked, gently placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it with slow comfort.

You didn't answer. Just sat in the silence, letting the hum of the wind and the ache of everything fill the space.

Then finally, you whispered: "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He asked.

"When you said you love me."

He paused, looking away, then back again. "I think so." He said honestly. "I can't stop thinking about you, I only want you. That... feels like love to me."

You parted your lips, about to speak, but stopped. You sat with it, with everything.

"Haechan, I know most of this isn't your fault, but you've never really treated me well. You've made me feel like shit about myself. Like I deserved this, and I don't."

"You don't." He said quickly. "I know you don't. I just... I don't know how to do this, Y/n. I'm trying."

"I know." You whispered. "And I get that. But you're not a child, Haechan. I can't keep sitting here, waiting for you to figure it out while I bleed for it. I'm tired and I'm hurt."

His eyes glistened under the low lights, lips slightly parted.

"Yeah." He said, voice tight. "Okay, I get it."

Minutes passed in silence again. You took a deep breath. "I'm ready to go now."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

Back in the car, the drive to his house was quiet again. He didn't get out right away. He looked at you, something fragile in his expression.

"I'm just gonna give you space, okay?" He said. "Tell me when you want to be near me again. Just come over... I'll be here. Waiting."

You nodded. "Okay."

He offered a small, sad smile, then got out and closed the door behind him. And you just sat there, still, the glow of the roses lingering in your mind like a memory you weren't sure was real.

When you got home that night, everything crashed down on you. The silence in your room was deafening, your thoughts tangled and felt heavy like they were weighing on your chest. Nothing felt real, and everything felt like too much. You sat on the edge of your bed, running your hands through your hair, heart pounding in your ears.

You needed out. Out of this town, out of yourself.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your laptop and stayed up the entire night researching— flights, hotels, long stays, trains, trails, anywhere with space to breathe. By morning, your eyes were bloodshot and your screen was filled with confirmation emails. You were going, it was done.

══════════════════════════

One week passed. It was quiet, almost suspiciously so. You packed everything you needed into the back of your car— luggage tucked neatly, passport ready, playlist queued. There was only one stop left before the airport.

You pulled into the familiar street, parking in front of his house. It looked the same— quiet, still, like the world didn't know everything that had happened inside it. You stepped out, the air thick and warm, and walked up the steps. Your knuckles hesitated before they knocked softly.

He opened the door after a few seconds, hair tousled like he'd just woken up. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. There was surprise there, but not disbelief.

"Okay... I didn't expect it to be this soon." His voice was soft.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head as you stepped inside, the faint scent of him still lingering in the air.

"I'm going abroad for a bit." You said it casually, looking around the space like it was already behind you.

"What's... 'a bit'?" He asked, his voice hesitant.

"A month, maybe two, possibly three." You turned to face him, eyes honest.

His brows lifted. "Wow, that's not 'a bit', that's a full on escape plan."

You chuckled softly. "It's short for me. Honestly, I wanted to leave for a year."

He paused, then nodded like he understood. "Yeah I get it, but... I'm gonna miss you." His eyes met yours. "You're not gonna ditch me completely, are you?"

"No." You said quickly, then hesitated. Your voice softened. "But I need you to not contact me, at all. I felt guilty blocking you, so... I just wanted to let you know before I go."

He pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. "Mmm." There was a flicker of hurt there, but he tried to mask it. "I'll try not to."

You gave him a look.

A small smile cracked across his face. "Okay, fine. I won't."

There was a pause, a quiet tension building in the stillness. You looked down at your watch. "Well, I should get going. Don't want to miss my flight."

"Right." He nodded, stepping forward as you turned to leave. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you against him in a familiar, grounding way.

"Do you know exactly when you'll be back?" He asked, his voice muffled against your shoulder, like he didn't really want to know the answer.

"I'm not telling you." You laughed softly into the hug.

"So how am I supposed to know?"

"You'll feel it in the air." You teased. "Or... I don't know, just call me or something."

He leaned back to look at you, rolling his eyes. "Oh. I see what you did there." He sighed. "Whatever. Just... have fun, okay? Stay safe and let me know if you need anything, anything at all."

Your eyes locked with his— warm, sad, familiar. You reached up, gently cupping his cheek before leaning in to press your lips against his. The kiss was long and quiet, full of everything you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were glossy, searching yours like he wasn't ready to let go.

"I don't know... that felt like a goodbye forever." He said quietly.

You took a breath. "More like... I need some time alone to heal."

He nodded, eyes soft. "If I figure everything out before you get back... will you be ready?"

You paused, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "I don't know." You were honest.

"But you should try anyway." You added. "For yourself."

He nodded. "Okay, I will."

"Promise?" You asked, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

He held out his pinky. "Only if you promise to at least come check when you get back."

You shook your head with a soft laugh and linked your finger with his. "You better hold your end of the bargain, Haechan. I'm not playing."

"I will, I promise." His pinky curled tight around yours.

"Bye." You smiled.

"See you."

You walked out, the door clicking shut behind you and just like that, you left.

Not running, not escaping, but reclaiming something— space to breathe, space to think, space to heal.

A whole year's worth of chaos packed into a suitcase, and finally... you were letting it go.

══════════════════════════

Two months later, you finally landed in the city again. As the plane wheels slid across the ground, the familiar skyline greeted you like a memory— familiar, once suffocating, now softened around the edges. You had expected the ache in your chest to return the second you stepped back onto this soil, but it didn't, or maybe it did just a little less loudly this time.

You made it back to your apartment and set your bags down quietly, eyes scanning the room. Everything was exactly how you left it. The old memories echoed in the walls, but they didn't scream anymore, they just... lingered.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced at the time.

10:33 PM.

Thursday.

That day used to mean something else, something bittersweet, familiar, the quiet routine of wanting more but never asking. You stood there for a moment, torn. You made a promise, just to check, just to see.

You weren't sure what you expected— maybe to find he moved on, maybe to prove to yourself that you had. But hope, as annoying as it was, always knew how to sneak in.

You threw on something a little nicer— something that made you feel a bit like yourself again, and headed out. The house was alive with sound, music pulsing through the walls, laughter spilling. You wove your way through the crowd, faces both familiar and distant flashing past, but no Haechan.

You ended up in the kitchen, where a neat line of unopened bottles sat on the counter. You picked one up absentmindedly, turning it over in your hands, unsure if you even wanted to open it.

"You're drinking without me?"

You froze, smile appearing on your lips before you even turned around.

And there he was. Standing there with that same crooked smile, looking at you like you never left— like he'd been waiting.

"I'm sorry, who are you again?" You teased, eyebrow raised.

He laughed. "I knew you were back, I felt it in the air."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I guess that's just the effect I have, huh?"

He took a step closer. "How have you been?"

You exhaled softly. "Good. Refreshed...happy."

His face broke into a genuine smile. "I'm really glad."

"And you?" You asked, studying his expression.

He shrugged, eyes still warm. "Been hanging in there."

You paused, tilting your head. "I came to check on you. I kept my end of the promise... did you?"

His grin turned sheepish, but he didn't answer. Instead, he gently took your hand and led you upstairs. The hallway felt familiar beneath your feet, but quieter now, less heavy.

When you entered his room, you noticed the small things first. A vase of fresh roses and sunflowers sat on his nightstand— alive and blooming, next to it a journal.

He picked it up and held it out like it was a metal.

"My therapist told me to start writing stuff down. My feelings, my thoughts, all of it. It was hard at first, like... really hard, but I did it and it helped— a lot." His smile was proud but a little shy.

"I'm so proud of you." You said, eyes soft. "Can I read it?"

He nearly choked. "Uh uh, absolutely not. Not yet."

You laughed, backing off with your hands raised. "Okay, okay, don't freak out."

He carefully placed it back on the nightstand, then turned to face you fully. "I'm trying, is that good enough for you?"

You stood there, caught in a quiet moment, eyes on him as your thoughts swirled. You missed him, that was undeniable, but there was still that voice— the one that warned you not to fall back into something that hurt.

You took a deep breath. "I— I don't know." You said honestly.

His face didn't fall, he just nodded patiently.

"I understand."

"But." You added, meeting his eyes again, "I'm willing to take things slow... something calm."

His face lit up instantly, hope returning to his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." You nodded. "But I swear— one wrong step, one moment that hurts me again, and you're done."

"Okay." He said quickly, almost too quickly. "Deal, a thousand percent."

You let him pull you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly like he wasn't quite convinced you were real yet. You didn't let go either, not for a long moment.

When he finally leaned back, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin gently.

"Is this too fast?" He asked.

You blinked. "What?"

"If I kissed you, and didn't stop."

You stopped, a small grin on your face. "Yeah..." You said slowly. "But... I can make a few exceptions."

His grin deepened, and without another word, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn't rushed, or messy, or desperate.

It felt like relief, it felt like trying again.

For once you weren't chasing clarity in someone else— you had found it in herself. You've done the hard work, peeled back the layers, and realized that your healing didn't have to mean shutting everyone out. You could choose love and still choose yourself. You could stay, not because you needed to be saved, but because you wanted to give love a chance without losing who you were in the process. Maybe that was the difference this time— you weren't afraid to walk away, but you didn't have to.

══════════════════════════

Epilouge: Haechan’ s Journal.

══════════════════════════

#nct x reader #nct smut #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct fic #haechan x reader #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #nct haechan #haechan #nct dream haechan #haechan angst #nct dream angst

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ellclarkey · 3 days ago

Text

Dilemma of your own. (Requested)

George Clarke fluff.

warnings: none!

You were a guest on The Useless Hotline.

Fun enough, right?

Well it would be, if you didn’t have a huge secret to hide.

You and George had been dating for almost a year now. Ten months and nineteen days, to be exact not that you were counting. It wasn’t a situationship, it wasn’t a fling. It was real. And very much not public.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed. God, no. If anything, you were tempted daily to post his sleepy face on your Instagram story or show the world how much of a sweetheart he was.

But it just… wasn’t anyone’s business. Friends knew. Family knew. But the internet? That was a line you’d both agreed not to cross.

And now here you were, sitting in the Hotline studio, mic hot, nerves hotter, pretending like George wasn’t sitting across from you with that look he always gave you when he was trying not to smile too wide.

“So today we have a special guest YN!” Max declared

You smiled a real smile

You’d told Max explicitly not to mention relationships too much.

You didn’t trust yourself to lie convincingly, and George well, George had all the subtlety of teenager with a crush. You’d seen the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching.

The internet would know in seconds.

So Max knew not to push it.

Knew to keep the relationship asking vague, the questions general, the suspicions quiet.

“So today we have a special guest Y/N!” Max declared.

You offered a genuine smile. “Hi, thanks for having me.”

Across the table, George did what he did best kept quiet. Let Max do the talking. Let you shine. His knee was bouncing under the table, though, you could feel it through the floor.

“Alright, we’ve had this one sent in a lot. Y/N, what are you looking for in a man? The listeners need to know.” Max asked with a grin

You smirked.

“Hmm… someone who’s funny. Beautiful eyes. Really good style. And…”

You turned, locking eyes with George just a second too long, “someone who can please me.”

George froze. Jaw clenched. Eyes wide.

Max chuckled.

“Right. Okay. Well. That’s… fantastic. Very specific. Your girl knows what she wants!.” Max says smile still full

You sipped your water innocently. George still hadn’t spoken. His ears had gone pink.

Then, another question hit.

“Here’s a fun one what’s it like being shipped with George?”

A beat.

You could see George visibly brace for impact.

You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“Oh, it’s terrible. Like having to bring your little sibling everywhere. Every time I’m in an edit he is too. To some taylor swift love ship edit”

George barked a laugh.

“He gets enough attention, trust me. I think the fans should move on to someone else.” You add

“Say it louder queen.” Max added

George finally breaks his silence

“Glad to know how you really feel.”

“Just saying what everyone’s thinking.” You smirk

There was a glint in your eye, and George caught it. That flicker of amusement mixed with something else something dangerous. He shot you a sideways look, biting back a smile.

The next few questions were well, fine.

Safe. Predictable.

“What’s your dream travel destination?”

“What’s your writing process like?”

“If you could only eat one meal forever, what would it be?”

You answered each with a smile, keeping your voice light and your words clean. George had mostly stayed quiet, chiming in with the occasional comment or joke, keeping it casual. But every so often, his foot would bump yours under the table. A silent nudge. You’d ignore it. Mostly.

Then, about 30 minutes in, Max glanced off-camera toward the corner of the room.

“Callum, do you have any dilemmas for us?” mas asks.

The director slouched back in his chair, working at the cameras perked up instantly, clearly prepared.

“Yeah, got one.Print it off.” He says pointing to the printer.

“George send this to the printer.”Max says

George types random things on his keyboard “Sent.”

“Here y/n read it” George says passing it to You

“All right. You say clearing your throat. Ive been making moves on my boss and he’s been reciprocating it constantly but we can’t be together due to HQ. What should i do? P.S George you’re fit and max is a skinny legend.”

The room fell dead silent. For a second too long.

You could feel your heart thudding in your ears, trying not to look at George, who was in the same position.

“Well hey, if he’s your boss… who’s gonna fire you if they find out?” You let out breathy laugh.

“Not sure that’s how that works.” Georgge adds.

Max jumps in “I mean hey, if it feels right, do it. Who cares if people find out and you loose your job?”

“Out of touch.” George smirks at max

Max threw a pen at him.

After the episode, once the mics are off and the cameras stop rolling

You pulled George aside the second this was finished.

“I think that dilemma is gonna make it obvious, you twat. Why would you let cal choose that one?”

“Blame Max, not me.” George said seemingly not caring.

“You handed it to me. You literally chose me to read it.”

“You were closest to the printer.”

“You’re closest to death.” You said unable to contain your smile

He laughed, hands raised in defense, but he stepped in a bit closer the grin softening just slightly.

“Seriously though… no one’s gunna know unless we tell them.”

“You don’t think that entire thing screamed secret relationship?” Tou tsk

“I think if we wanted to keep it hidden, maybe don’t describe me as your type then look at me when you say “please me” hmm?” He says annoyingly smug

You rolled your eyes.

“You liked that.” You bit your lip at him

George responds back quieter this time “Yeah. I did.”

You bit back a smile. He looked at you, just a beat longer than necessary.

“If the internet finds out you’re gonna be the one defending it this time.” You smirk

“You’re acting like it’s cancelable that we’re dating.” He says

“Oh hush it.” You say walking back to max.

#george clarke #sidemen #fluff #george clarke smut #george clarke x you #arthur frederick #arthur tv #george clarke x reader #podcast #secret #george clarkeey

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rekas-bitches · 3 days ago

Note

For summaries I've got a couple trics I like, both to use, and to judge whether I wantto read other fics.

1. Some text from the actual fic.

Whether it's one line or several lines of dialogue. If you're writing a one-shot, it can be towards the end of the fic, but it can also be the first line. This helps both give a sample of writing quality and create curiosity. This can be followed by a brief explanation giving context to the dialogue

They have Shepard’s pie for dinner. Ron and Hermione watch Harry fill up his plate and only start serving themselves when he picks up his fork and starts eating. Neville laughs into his wine glass. “How are you dealing with their mothering, Harry?” he asks. Ron opens and closes his mouth for a minute, groping for an excuse. Eventually, Ron says, “He’s just so small, Nev.” “Hey,” Harry says. “I’m seventeen. I’m an adult.” Ron shakes his head at Neville. “My best friend is an infant.” A curse regresses Harry to his seventeen year old self, physically and mentally. He doesn’t recognise this strange peaceful wizarding world, but there are two people he does recognise: Ron and Hermione. Based off this tumblr post.

- there will come a time, you'll see by aloneintherain

2. Basic explanation followed by a second one

As the title establishes, a longer explanation followed by a brief second explanation. Neither would work without the other and they work together to create a clear picture of what's going on. Sometimes the second line can just be a quick trope explanation along the line of "Or: Yet another soulmates AU", "AKA the time Peter Parker fell through a hole in the universe", and "Or: an AU where Nahida and Alhaitham met before canon started and it changed everything ". Other times, it can be a bit more of a specific description:

Tim's dad is dead, killed by a boomerang to the chest, and Tim is an orphan now. He knows Bruce would adopt him if needed but he couldn't possibly impose himself on the Wayne's more than he already has. It's okay though, because he has a plan for this, he just needs someone to play the role of his estranged "Uncle Eddie".

Except... the guy he hires is weirdly concerned about his well being and Tim can't figure out why.

Meanwhile, Jason Todd is forced to reevaluate his plans for his debut as Red Hood, because, as it turns out, his replacement is a suicidal idiot who can't be trusted to stay out of trouble.

Tim Drake fails to recognize Jason Todd, back from the dead, and hires him to be his Uncle Eddie to avoid getting adopted by Batman. Somehow this ruins everyone's plans.

- The Best Laid Plans of Robins by Alleena_Pallatz

3. Vague one line explanation

Being able to keep it brief and witty in the description is honestly a great indicator of writing skill.

When Lestrade's go-to amateur detective finds himself stumped on a rather bloody case, John Watson suggests that they call the other one... The other what, though, remains to be seen.

- The Other One by ObsidianDissident

Even just:

The evolution of Tim, Lucy, and Tamara as they become a family.

- i'm coming home (tell the world) by hishn_greywalker

4. Any combination of the above

Seriously, scrolling through the fics in my recs, almost all of them follow the top 2, and the few ones remaining. I think the combination of quote from fic followed by an "Or: insert trope here" is the most common way to summarize, probably because it's so easy.

"What, you're telling me the great Batman couldn't stop a nine-year-old from sneaking out?" Green Lantern scoffed. "At least come up with a believable excuse." It was Batman's turn to scoff. "Like anyone else could do better. If you can keep Robin off the streets for a week, I'll buy you a Porsche." AKA The JLA stages an intervention with Batman to get Robin off the streets. it goes downhill from there. - Adventures in Batsitting by raven_of_hydecastle

I hope this explanation with examples was able to show how simple it can be to make a really compelling summary once you've already written the fic.

I know "I'm bad at summaries" and "I'm bad at tags" are not sentiments to voice in the summary/tags of a fic. But, genuinely, I don't consider myself good at either. (This is background.)

The actual question is, how do I learn these? Especially tagging. My fandom background is sparse, at least far as participation in broader fandom culture is concerned, so I wasn't part of fandom when current tagging practices on AO3 evolved. It's difficult for me to grasp, and I suspect I end up treating the tags more like CWs than search terms as a result.

Great for people who want to filter out particular unpleasant elements. Not so great for people who can't find my fic because I didn't think to tag something someone else might see as obvious. I have severe social anxiety so joining e.g. a Discord to ask for help isn't really a viable option. Tagging fic isn't worth panic attacks.

Tagging fic isn't worth panic attacks.

100% agreed!

When it comes to being "good at tagging" that definition is going to vary from person to person. It will also vary depending on what your goal is.

I'm a fairly minimal tagger myself. I'll tag the fandom and the major characters, the general vibe (e.g. humour, smut etc) and then anything else I might think of. I don't personally like to tag smut fics with all of the various sex acts in them, but I've done it before because I thought I was supposed to. Since it doesn't really feel like "me" though I've since stopped doing that. If folks want to avoid my fic as a result, that's totally fair. If folks who would like it can't find it 🤷‍♀️ maybe it'll be a rec someday.

All that is to say that tagging is not a thing it's possible to be perfect at, so just aim for accomplishing whatever your goal is.

I get what you're saying, though. I wrote a fake dating fic once without tagging it as fake dating because I didn't realize that fake dating was a trope. It was only when a couple of friends started referring to it that I realized and added that tag to my fic.

One way to learn about those kinds of tropes is to pay attention when you see them tagged on other people's fics. You can browse through tags that are similar to ones you already use and see what else people add to their fics and whether those would work for yours or not.

You can also visit Fanlore! It's another project by the OTW (the people who run AO3) and it's a great resource for learning about fandom. You can look up a common tag like Alternate Universe, and it will give you examples of different types of AU and link out to pages that will link out to pages that will... you get the idea. It's wikipedia but for fandom stuff.

As for summaries, there are a lot of ways to go about that too. I'll let folks add ideas in the notes. The way I do it is that I include the name(s) of the major character(s), and outline the inciting incident for the fic. Since I post as I write, I might or might not tease something that happens later on (because I might or might not know yet).

The way to get good at doing it is just to keep practicing. When I was in university, I took a Russian Lit course where we had to write a summary of each novel in 200 words or less, 10 sentences or less - and semicolons were cheating. I did that 13 times in 8 months, and by the end of that I was really good at writing summaries. Add in the fact that I started posting fic back on FF.net where there was a character limit on summaries and you can see why I keep them pretty short.

That's another thing that you can analyze in others' fics, though. Find a summary that you think is well-written for whatever type of summary you like and then look at that author's other fics to see if you can spot a pattern to how they do it. Once you find the pattern, it's a lot easier to replicate it and then it's just a matter of repeating it until it feels natural.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 days ago

Text

"I fucking love you, okay?! I don't want to, but I do." Joel Miller

Angry Confessions ❤️‍😠

bio : this story is part of the Angry Confessions series (you can still be a part of it)

requested by : anon thank you!

warnings: angst, one dead body, gun, QZ Joel Miller, argument, tears, Tess shows up, Tommy is mentioned

When the shot rang out, Joel thought for a moment that dying was strange—painless. He blinked, and then the man standing before him with the rifle pointed at him fell to the ground, staring at the darkening sky. So he wasn’t dead? He lowered his hands and quickly turned around, noticing you standing nearby. You were still holding the gun in your hands, you had fired a precise shot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Joel hissed. He picked up his backpack from the ground and looked around the empty warehouse. “You were supposed to stay in the zone.”

“A ‘thank you’ will do.” you replied, lowering the barrel.

His face twisted into a grimace. “I could handle him.”

“Yeah, sure.” You put the gun away and looked around too. You didn’t need any uninvited guests. “Did you find any drugs?”

“Not much.” he muttered. “Why did you come here?”

You looked at him in surprise. "I should be the one asking why you went alone. You know you need support, and I..."

"I don't need anyone."

"Sure."

You slowly moved towards the walls of the zone. Joel was walking a few steps ahead of you, his broad shoulders clearly tense and he didn't talk to you at all. You, on the other hand, felt anger growing inside you. Outside of the QZ, you went out together, as a team. Sometimes Tess or someone else would join, but you and Joel got along the best.

However, for some time now, Miller had become strange, quieter and more distant. You thought he was worried about something, or maybe FEDRA was hot on his heels, but it had to be something else. He became rude to you and increasingly avoided going out with you outside the zone.

After a few minutes, the wall of the Boston QZ was visible and you already guessed what would happen next. Joel would ignore you, leave you somewhere alone again, and be outraged when you found him.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” you asked. “Hey! I asked you something.”

“You ask too many questions.” Joel replied, but he didn’t even look at you.

"I want to know what's going on? You're not mad that I helped you with that guy, are you? He could have killed you."

"I don't need your help." he snorted, and you immediately sped up.

You grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. If he didn't want to look at you, then he had no choice at this point. You were furious, he could see it.

"Why did you come here anyway, huh?" he growled, his eyes darkening. "You keep following me around. I told you I work alone, that I don't want to be anyone's fucking nanny."

"You must have forgotten how many times we've gone outside the wall together." you replied in an equally sharp voice. "I've helped plenty of times. And I can take care of myself."

Joel snarled. In some strange way, his behavior acted as a spark, and you raised your voice as well.

“What the fuck is your problem, Miller?! I’ve never bothered you before. We’ve worked together many times, alone, and with Tess and others. You know I’m good.”

You were. He knew it, and you didn’t need to remind him. “You can be unreasonable.”

“Oh!” your eyes widened. “And you’re the most reasonable guy in the world. Congratulations!”

“Get away from me, okay? I don’t need your help. I don’t need you following me around.”

“Excuse me?”

That was exactly what he needed. He needed you to be surprised so he could attack. And even though he felt bad about it, his words hit you as hard as bullets.

"Why the hell are you following me? What do you even want from me, huh? I don't have anything, and even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you. The world chews up people like you and spits them out. And I've saved your ass more times than I can count. Even what you bring from behind the wall is trash, worthless."

He noticed the tears that were glistening in your eyes. He was talking nonsense, but he couldn't stop himself anymore.

"What do you want?!" he growled.

Your voice was shaking, but you answered. "I don't want anything, Joel... You know that."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

“I fucking love you, okay?! I don’t want to, but I do.” Tears were streaming down your hot cheeks. “And I don’t understand what the fuck you’re talking about! You’re attacking me and I…”

He looked at you in a way that you could barely recognize the man you’d known for so long. “I don’t need you. Not you, not what you have in your pretty little head.” His voice was heavy and sharp. “Stay away from me. Got it?”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t stop him either as he turned and headed for the zone, leaving you behind.

He could still feel your eyes glued to him, as if they were looking through him. He hated it. It always seemed to him that you were reading him like a book.

It was already dark when Tess returned to the apartment. She threw her bag on the kitchen counter and brushed her long hair out of her face.

“I know how to get a battery.” She said in an excited voice. “I know who has it and how to get it.”

Joel was lying on the couch, his eyes slightly raised. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. And I’ve already talked to him.” She walked over to him and sat down on the coffee table. “We can do it. There’s a chance.”

“Great.”

There was something odd about him, but Tess didn’t ask any more questions. She’d learned not to ask or delve into topics Joel didn’t want to talk about. So she told him what they had to do to finally get out of the zone and find Tommy.

That was the plan. And that plan didn’t include you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #angry confessions series #angry confessions

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cherierot · 2 days ago

Text

message in a bottle ✹ op81 × fem!reader

previous | next

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

genre: slow burn enemies (but actually misunderstanding) to Besties to Lovers emotional damage with a side of banter social anxiety-core. smau x irl

chapter warnings: smoking, slight hints of depression, reference to past suicide ideation, themes of unresolved trauma, emotional repression (?), jetlag, dissociation (lol), accidental hose attack + 81% chance of hypothermia, for more content warning check linked masterlist above

synopis: once, he saved your life with shaking hands and a bad autograph. now, years later, you stand in his orbit—hattie's best friend with a half-healed heart and a wrist tattoo he'll never notice. he doesn't remember you. you never forgot him. It's messy. It's slow. It's everything and nothing at all.

author notes: so so sorry for the long wait, I mean with my personal life tearing me apart, writing is cathartic to me rn, but sadly I keep breaking my laptop, it refuses to say in one piece ya'll. but good news is, I have decided to say adios to my eyesight and light in from my phone (yay?!)

chapter one : sub rosa

➔ ❝ ...𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 ❞

You smoke out the window like it’s a ritual, watching the smoke curl up and disappear, the bitter drag of it filling the hollow parts you pretend don’t exist. The sky outside is dull, that late-winter grey that makes everything feel like it’s waiting for something to happen. Your inbox is full of unread emails, half-written assignments, and one string of voice notes from Hattie, each more dramatic than the last.

"I haven’t seen you in forever. Come visit me, please, I’ll die if you don’t—"

Then laughter. That sharp, untouchable kind of laughter that sounds like it belongs to people who aren’t tired like you. People like Hattie, whose orbit has always been bright and fast and full of noise.

You didn’t say no. Mostly because you didn’t have the energy to. Mostly because staying here another week, alone in this airless flat, feels like a worse kind of drowning.

You’re three days into ignoring your coursework. Two days into skipping meals on accident. One week into letting the dirty mugs stack up on your desk like some pathetic little monument to inertia. You know exactly what Hattie would say if she saw it. You can almost hear her voice in your head now, “Get up. Do something. Put on lipstick. We’re going out.”

You stub the cigarette out against the chipped brick of the window frame and watch the ash scatter like it’s trying to leave you too.

The thing is.....you miss her.

Hattie.

Her messy bedroom floor and her bad playlist choices and her habit of making everything feel urgent and impossible and alive. It’s been months since you’ve seen her. Since she hugged you too tight and told you she hated how small your wrists felt.

So when she begged you to visit, you said yes without thinking. Without asking who else might be there. Without giving yourself time to spiral about the possibility of running into—

No. You don’t go there.

You press the thought down like you’ve learned to press down every other stupid, sentimental, self-destructive thought.

This is about Hattie. About seeing her. About pretending you’re still capable of being someone who shows up for people.

The airport is exactly how you remember it: cold, too bright, and full of people pretending they’re going somewhere important. You move through it like a ghost, sneakers sticking on cheap tile, your backpack too heavy on one shoulder.

At security, you stand barefoot on the cold floor, arms out like a crime scene silhouette, while a stranger waves a plastic wand over your body like they’re trying to find something worth keeping.

The flight itself is short. Forgettable.

You sit by the window and let your headphones play the same three songs on repeat. Eyes on the clouds, fingers restless in your lap, heart doing that stupid, aching thing where it feels both too fast and too slow at once.

By the time you land, your phone’s at 9%, and Hattie’s already sent three texts:

"Where r u??"

"Do you want me to pick you up or are you getting a cab??"

"Also slight thing forgot to tell you something but lol nvm see you soon xoxo"

Your mouth twitched slightly, suppressing a slight smile. You don't reply.

You just grab your bag, sling it over one shoulder, and step out into the thick, summer heat of a city you haven’t been back to in over a year.

Not knowing that somewhere, across town, he’s already home too.

Hattie’s already waiting at arrivals when you step out, standing on top of a metal bench like she’s trying to summon an audience. She’s waving both arms like she’s directing air traffic, wearing sunglasses too big for her face and grinning like she’s just won something.

You pause for half a second at the sight of her—because no matter how tired you are, no matter how much your body feels like a half-charged phone, she still makes you smile like muscle memory.

"Oh my god, you’re alive!" she yells, way too loud for an airport.

A few strangers turn. You duck your head and walk faster.

She meets you halfway, launching herself at you with zero warning and enough force to make your carry-on bag swing off your shoulder.

"You smell like airplane and room freshener." she says into your hair, still hugging you like she doesn’t care that you’re awkward and stiff and slow to hug back.

"You smell like bad descisions and Red Bull." you mutter.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, fake-offended.

"Rude." she paused, gripping your forearms to pull you back in for another, "but not wrong."

The car she drives now is the same one she had back in high school.

A dented, sun-faded with a temperamental stereo and a cracked dashboard she once tried to cover with pokemon stickers. The passenger seat still leans too far back from that one night she let you crash there when you didn’t want to go home.

The seatbelt lock sticks. The air conditioning rattles like it’s got lungs full of dust.

But she drives it like it’s a chariot. Like every scrape on the paint is a badge of honor.

"Still haven’t gotten that fixed?" you ask, yanking at the stubborn seatbelt until it clicks.

"Charm, babe," she says, patting the dash like it’s a living thing. "This car’s got character."

She tosses your bag into the back with zero ceremony and climbs behind the wheel like she’s racing a countdown clock. The engine groans, then catches like it always does, like it’s trying one last time not to die on her.

"I got us snacks for the drive," she announces, grabbing a half-crushed bag of chips from the floor between her feet.

"Are they edible?"

"Debatable," she grins. "But it’s the thought that counts."

You settle in, letting the seat swallow you whole. The road stretches out in front of you, dust and sun and familiar turns you haven’t taken in far too long.

Hattie talks the whole way. About her classes. Her neighbors. The dog her mom’s thinking about adopting.

You let her comforting voice fill the car like music.

While you watch the sky shift from airport grey to something just slightly gold at the edges.

░░░░░░░ ✸

The drive is longer than you remember.

Or maybe it just feels that way because every street, every stretch of cracked pavement, carries something you’ve spent years trying to forget.

The closer you get to their house, the tighter your chest pulls.

The ghost of seventeen sitting shotgun with you, chewing on memories like gum you can’t spit out.

By the time Hattie pulls into the driveway, the sky’s bruised with late afternoon sun, and the house stands there looking exactly the same. Same chipped paint near the garage. Same uneven patch of grass near the mailbox. Same front steps where you sat one night with shaking hands and lungs too full of panic to breathe properly.

You blink hard, like that’ll stop the memories from clawing their way up your throat.

It doesn’t work.

Hattie’s already out of the car, grabbing your bag like it’s nothing, yelling over her shoulder about snacks and sun and how her mom made dessert just because you’re coming.

"Mum’s out, but she said to help yourself to snacks. Oh and if you break something, just blame me," Hattie’s said, already heading over to the house and kicking off her shoes.

You climb out slower, shoulders tight, heart heavy with nostalgia and another unknown emotion.

The air smells like summer and cut grass and something painfully familiar.

You barely get three steps toward the house when it happens.

A sharp blast of cold—sharp enough to steal your breath.

Water. Full-force. Right in the face.

You stumble back with a yelp, arms flailing, mouth open in shocked protest. Your shirt clings instantly to your skin, your shoes squelch against the driveway, and your hair drips into your eyes like the universe just slammed a bucket over your head.

It takes you two full seconds to realize what’s happening.

Another two seconds to process why.

And then—

You hear him.

"Shit-shit I'm so sorry."

You swipe water out of your eyes just in time to see him:

Oscar.

Standing a few meters away near the side of the house, holding a green garden hose like he’s just been caught committing a crime.

There’s a half-coiled mess of hose at his feet.

A patch of wet concrete where he was probably cleaning something… watering something… doing some dumb, harmless chore until you became collateral damage.

His face goes bright red.

Like full, sunburn-instantly kind of red.

He looks absolutely horrified—but also like he’s fighting the urge to laugh because the situation is objectively ridiculous.

"I—Jesus—I didn’t see you—"

He’s already fumbling to turn off the nozzle, stepping on the hose by accident, making the water spray even more before he finally gets it under control.

"I was—cleaning the patio! I didn’t—You—Wow, you’re… yeah. Properly soaked."

He scratches the back of his neck, awkward and sheepish and every bit the boy you remember, just… older now.

And The worst part, the truly stupid, gut-twisting part? Is that he dosent recognize you.

Your left hand instinctively twitches, just slightly.

Not even a flicker of recognition behind his smile.

Just that classic Oscar Piastri look of "haha oops my bad" mixed with "please someone end this social interaction immediately."

Hattie, from the porch, absolutely loses it laughing.

You stand there, dripping, heart in your throat, staring at the boy who saved your life once…

... Who also happens to be the one who just accidentally drowned you with a garden hose giving you a 'warm' welcome.

You blink at him.

Water dripping from your chin.

Your clothes sticking in all the worst places.

And for one stupid, self-destructive second, you consider saying his name.

Just to see if it lands.

Just to see if anything flickers in that clueless face of his.

But you don’t.

You’ve played this game before.

So instead, you force a breath through your lungs, swipe wet hair out of your eyes, and smile—tight and sarcastic and just a little feral at the edges.

"Cool. Love this. Really missed this climate change simulation experience," you say, gesturing down at yourself like a tragic weather report.

Oscar lets out this small, nervous laugh—too high, too boyish, like he doesn’t know where to put his hands or his eyes.

"Honestly… fair. That was—yeah. That’s on me," he says, already backing up a step like distance will make this less embarrassing for him. "Do you—uh—want a towel? Or…like… new clothes? I think Hattie’s got stuff? Or—"

"You think? Wow, very reassuring," you deadpan, but there’s no real heat in it.

Hattie’s still doubled over laughing from the porch.

"Bro I’m never letting you live this down," she wheezes at Oscar. Then, to you: "C’mon, come inside, I’ll get you something dry. You’re gonna catch a cold and it’ll be his fault, which honestly? Hilarious for me."

You follow her in.

Dripping the whole way.

Oscar stands there for a second longer, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks still pink, before finally turning back to whatever disaster project he was in the middle of.

Inside, the house is warm in that too-many-people, too-many-memories kind of way.

The air smells like whatever Hattie’s momz Nicole, was baking earlier.

There’s music playing faintly from someone’s phone speaker in another room.

Laughter from down the hall.

Normal.

Like that whole embarrassing, heart-stopping, water-soaked moment never even happened.

Hattie throws you a dry oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings, and you changed in the bathroom with your heart still racing in your throat.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a second too long.

Hair damp and messy.

Neck flushed pink from sun and nerves.

You looked like a girl trying way too hard to look unbothered.

You roll your eyes at your reflection.

Stuff it all down.

Smile like none of this means anything at all.

When you step back out into the hallway, back into the noise, the laughter, the small talk.

You do it like you’re not drowning all over again

░░░░░░░ ✸

There’s clean laundry mixed with dirty laundry like they’re negotiating a peace treaty on the floor. Her desk’s buried under a pile of textbooks and skincare empties. Three different water bottles sit abandoned like ghosts of hydration attempts past.

You throw yourself dramatically onto her bed anyway, half-damp and still slightly cold from earlier. The oversized hoodie she gave you swallows your hands, sleeves hanging like emotional armor.

Hattie flops down next to you with all the grace of a dropped bowling ball.

"Sooo," she starts, already smiling way too wide. "How’s it feel to be back? Aside from the whole… accidental drowning thing."

You groan into her pillow. "Yeah, loving the full theme park experience. Got the welcome spray package and everything."

She laughs—loud, bright, no filter like always.

"Honestly? Worth the wait just to see your face when it hit you. Like, peak betrayal. If I’d had my phone out? I would have sent it to the group chat, they would have loved it."

You glare at her. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"Unfortunately."

You steal a gummy worm from the open bag near her nightstand like you’ve earned it.

You catch up in the lazy, sprawling way you always do.

You giving vague updates about uni that make your life sound way less lonely than it actually is.

Her complaining about the boys in her classes who look like 'sewer rats'.

She tell you about her most recent situationship—a disaster with a dude in her media studies group who thought 'boundaries' was a suggestion, not a rule.

It’s easy to fall back into this.

Like muscle memory.

Like you’re both still seventeen and none of the hard stuff ever happened.

And then, because Hattie can’t help herself, she drops it:

"Also, in case you somehow missed it... Oscar’s home for some time."

You snort.

Because obviously you knew.

"Yeah," you say casually, popping another gummy worm into your mouth. "Kinda figured when he turned the garden hose into a tactical weapon."

"God, I’m still laughing," she grins. "He’s helping Dad with the yard and stuff. I think it’s some weird post-season coping thing. Like… manual labor therapy? Or avoidance of sitting still for more than five minutes? Classic Oscar stuff."

You hum like you’re only half listening.

Even though your stomach does this stupid twist at the mention of him.

Hattie keeps going, all fond and oblivious.

"You’ll probably see him around. Just… ignore him if he’s weird. You know how he is. Social skills set to ‘buffering.’"

"Yeah," you say again, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating. "Not like I’m new to that."

Hattie doesn’t catch the double meaning.

Why would she?

To her, Oscar’s just her brother.

To you…

Well.

That’s a whole different story.

░░░░░░ ✹

The house is dark.

That kind of late-night stillness that feels like it’s holding its breath.

Your phone screen says 4:07 AM, glowing pale and too bright in the dark.

Jetlag sits thick and restless in your body, too tired to sleep, too wired to stay still.

You’ve already flipped the pillow over twice. The blanket feels both too much and not enough.

By 4:12, you give up.

You shuffle through the hallway, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, socks making soft sounds against the floorboards.

The air smells like dust and eucalyptus and leftover summer heat trapped in old wood.

You’re halfway to the kitchen, bleary-eyed and more ghost than person, when you catch the faintest sound of running water ahead.

The fridge door’s open. Light spills across the floor and there he is.

Back turned at first. Shoulders hunched. Hoodie hanging loose off him like he got dressed in the dark.

His hair’s a mess, flattened on one side and sticking up wildly on the other, like sleep never sat still on him for long.

You stop in the doorway.

He moves like muscle memory—grabbing a glass, filling it at the sink with slow, lazy movements.

Till he finally turns.

Eyes lift.

Land on you.

For one too-long second, he just… blinks.

Like you startled him awake. Like it takes him a full heartbeat to register you standing there in Hattie’s ridiculous borrowed hoodie, with a 'not today' and a dog in a sunglass printed in front, hair slightly damp, looking as tired as you feel.

The fridge door clicks shut behind him.

Neither of you says anything.

Just…

Something heavy and strange and unnameable sits between you.

But you don't dare look away.

That look.

The air shifts.

taglist : @karlosslanders @plastrizz @charlottes-ngvot @siennaluvshcky @cinderellawithashoe @zannete @lonelyladyghost @agaabara @utopiakys @elisaa-shelby @cdej6 @mits-vi @agaabara @wilmonyibo7 @haunteddestinykryptonite@edgyficuselastica@dollyvuu @shadowreader07

lmao first time I posted this—I forgot the tags🤡

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depressedtifosa · 2 days ago

Text

summary: What you think is just a business meeting turns into something more. pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

It’s an open secret in the paddock that Toto has been trying to coax Max to join Mercedes for years now, but recently there was another target of his at Red Bull—you.

Ever since Adrian left to work with Aston Martin, people have been trying to figure out your next move. The team assumed that you, being his protégé, would eventually go after him, but it wasn’t an option.

You wanted to make a name for yourself in F1 without your mentor, but at your current team, there was no way you could do it. Yet, Christian was hell-bent on keeping you around, because after the past few years, you and Max became sort of a package deal.

If you left, he would follow you for sure.

Tonight you’re meeting Toto in some fancy restaurant’s private room, where he’ll probably try to convince you to join them next year. As you’re being led there, your heart beat skyrockets from the anxiety that’s taking over your mind.

He’s intimidating, sure, but what bothers you more is the idea of you being nothing more but a chess piece that will lure the Dutch driver to Mercedes. Maybe you would be sidelined right away, forced to stay behind and miss all the races.

“You’re my good luck charm, there’s no way I’m gonna let Christian or Helmut leave you behind,” said Max after Adrian broke the news that he’s leaving the team, and you began to worry how they would treat you in the future.

So, even if you both switched teams, you were sure Max would never let them treat you badly. You wouldn’t suddenly become Harry Potter and be locked away into a tiny storage room under the stairs at the Mercedes HQ.

Inside the private room, you can see the team principal sitting by the table, his long fingers wrapped around the glass in front of him. He only notices you arrived when he hears the clicks of your shoes echo loudly in the quiet room.

“You came,” he says with a polite smile on his face. “I was worried you only agreed to join me out of courtesy, then wouldn’t show up in the end.”

Before you could answer, he signals the staff to leave you alone for now. There’s a bottle of wine on the table, accompanied by two glasses, and he doesn’t hesitate to offer to pour some for you.

As you sit down across from him, your brain is kicking into overdrive to think of something witty to say, but nothing comes to mind. “Didn’t feel like passing on a free dinner,” you respond eventually.

Toto lets out a short laugh at this. “Understandable.”

You pick up the glass of wine, then raise it a little before taking a cautious sip of it. Whatever it is exactly, it’s certainly delicious, but you didn’t come here to get drunk. It was only your curiosity that brought you here, and deep down you have a feeling it wasn’t your wisest decision.

“Why don’t we talk about why I’m here?” you ask as you swirl the wind in your glass.

“Can’t I simply ask you to join me for dinner?”

If you didn’t know him better, you would assume this is a personal, and not a business meeting. “Not without an ulterior motive, no.”

He looks almost hurt by your accusation, that you assume the worst of him, but it’s quickly replaced by his well-known poker face. Maybe you should’ve kept your opinion to yourself, but years on Max’s side taught you that being brutally honest might be the best approach in life.

A waiter comes in after a quick, soft knock on the door, only to hand over the menu and tell you the chef’s recommendation for tonight. While you pay attention to every word, you can see out of the corner of your eye that the man across from you is watching you instead.

Yet, when the waiter asks if you need some time to choose, he speaks up, telling him the chef’s recommendation is perfect without asking you. Yes, it sounds really good, but why did he have to choose for you too?

After the waiter nods and leaves, he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine. “You know,” he begins as he once again watches you, “I’ve been thinking about your situation for a while now.”

Oh, here it comes.

“Really?” you ask, trying to sound casual despite feeling nervous all of a sudden.

He nods. “Really. Adrian left the team, and I heard everyone’s expecting great things from you, to one day take his place and become the next Adrian at Red Bull.”

He heard that? You can’t help but wonder from who, because you haven’t heard this before.

As if he could read your thoughts, Toto flashes a small smile at you. “Team principals talk to each other, you know,” he clarifies.

Okay, that makes sense. But why didn’t they tell you about this? Why did they have to make you feel like they were uncertain about your future with the team? Gulping, you reach for your glass to avoid having to respond to his statement, hoping he would finally get to the point.

“Alright, enough about work, let’s discuss something else.”

Toto says these words so casually that they leave you temporarily speechless. Ever since he asked you to meet him here, you’ve been playing scenarios in your mind, trying to figure out what kind of offer he might make, but now here he is, hanging the topic before you could even talk about work properly.

Lucky for you, he notices your confusion, and leans forward a little as if he was about to tell you a secret only you can hear, even though it’s just the two of you in the room. “Do you know what rumor circulates in the paddock? That you and Max make a wonderful couple,” he says, his voice dead serious, but then he suddenly lets out a hearty laugh. “The two of you are like brother and sister, I wonder how others can’t see it. Or,” he begins slowly, “is there something no one knows?”

This utterly confuses you, so you decide to take the lead for now and start an interrogation. “Toto, it’s nice that you invited me for dinner, but I thought we would talk about work. Yet, you’re asking me if I’m in some secret relationship with Max–which I’m not, by the way–so I’m a little confused about what exactly do you want from me,” you say, unable to hide the desperation in your voice.

“You already told me what I wanted to know,” he says calmly, then takes a sip of his wine while his eyes are closely watching you. You raise a brow in question, which puts a smile on his face. “You’re not dating Max,” he clarifies.

“What does it have to do with any of this?”

“Everything.”

“You really enjoy being cryptic, don’t you?”

Toto lets out a short, amused laugh at this, but he only begins to circle around the edge of the glass with his finger. His silence soon starts to get on your nerves, because there’s something he’s not telling you, or maybe rather something he has already said, but you somehow managed to miss.

And then, out of nowhere, it hits you. This isn’t about work, this isn’t about his plan to convince Max to join Mercedes. No, what he wants is personal, because this time it seems like he wants you. But he needs you as what? A one-night stand? A side piece? Or a proper partner?

With a sigh, you stand up and walk to the other side of the room, building some distance to clear your head.

No.

You’re just making things up now, there’s nothing pointing in this direction aside from a fleeting comment. A comment that could just as well be a joke, and nothing more. After all, he seems genuinely amused by your little nervous breakdown as he just keeps sitting there, eyes following your every move.

Flee.

You have to leave, and you have to leave right now, just before things could get any weirder. The silence that fills the room is heavy with unspoken words, and his eyes are telling a story you can’t quite decipher. Not yet, that is.

“Dinner can be served any second,” he suddenly speaks up, snapping you out of your flurry of frantic thoughts. You look over at him once again, trying hard to figure out why he said that. “Sit and stay. Please.”

Just as he predicted, a waiter soon steps in, placing the plates in front of you. Strangely, the conversation quickly switches to the current season, specifically McLaren’s performance and Max’s mentorship when it comes to young drivers like Kimi.

Neither of you mention the cars or the strategy if it’s not another team’s, and this gives a certain rhythm to the conversation. You feed off of each other’s comments, even joking occasionally about recent events.

By the end of the evening, you’re a lot more relaxed, seeing the Mercedes team principal in a different light. It’s nice to know he’s more than just his usual poker face or occasional meltdowns.

He’s someone whose company you could get used to.

When it’s time to say goodbye, neither of you is in a rush to say the word. You’re just standing there in the room, looking at each other in silence, unbothered by the world outside, as if time has been suspended temporarily.

Just another minute before leaving. Just sixty seconds. Is it too much to ask for?

//////

Two days later you receive a message from him. It’s short and to the point.

Let’s meet halfway tomorrow. I’ll arrange a few things, then send you the address.

You’re quite sure he means somewhere halfway between Milton Keynes and Brackley. As the next race is three weeks away, most teams returned to their respective HQs to do some actual work behind the scenes, and you spend most of your time behind a computer screen—well, three of them, actually—to run some simulations.

But the idea of meeting Toto again keeps averting your thoughts, and eventually, you find yourself typing a quick message to him. And then he responds, and you put together another one, then another, and another. The conversation keeps flowing as naturally as water does.

And then, you type something you shouldn’t have. Something that’s—considering the two of you have met just a few days ago—quite ridiculous.

I kinda miss you.

It was a mistake. A stupid, idiotic mistake that you’re quickly trying to fix by deleting the message from the chat. But, as it turns out, it’s too late, because your phone notifies you of a new message.

I saw that. I miss you too.

//////

“Have you just lured me into your house?” you joke as you step inside the cozy, two-story house that’s nothing like one you would imagine he would ever own.

You always imagined him in those modern, full glass buildings, a place where everything is as organized as he is, where everything has a function, and there are only some photos to make it truly his. Yet this house is a charming little thing, something that radiates warmth and comfort.

Toto looks back at you, and takes him a second or two to realize what kind of evil masterplan you were referring to. “Funny, but no,” he says, although there’s something he’s not telling you. “I rented it for two weeks, though, just in case.”

“In case of what?” you wonder as you put your bag on the couch and turn around to face him again. Even though you asked the question, you already have a good guess deep down, which tightens your chest and dries your mouth right away.

He shrugs. “In case we want to meet again. It’s the summer break, I’m sure you took a few days off at least,” he points out.

Practical. Logical. Crystal clear without smoke and mirrors.

Typical Toto, for which you’re honestly grateful.

But this still makes you wary of the idea of the two of you going on this small vacation together, spending time alone, away from everyone, without anyone knowing. Like a little secret, just for you two.

“Can I ask you something?” you speak up when he takes a seat next to you.

As he rests his arm on the back of the couch, being so close to your shoulders that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, your brain short circuits. This results in a temporary blackout when he tells you to go ahead, you have suddenly no idea what you wanted to ask him in the first place.

Slowly, though, those thoughts begin to return to you, so you take a deep breath and start talking. “This whole secret meeting, the messages… What do they mean? I just… I don’t know, I can’t seem to understand what’s this about exactly, what’s happening between you and me. If there’s anything happening, that is,” you’re quick to add.

His head tilts to the side a little, but there’s that amused smile you saw back in the restaurant too, like he’s entertained by the idea of you being confused. Is he playing some stupid cat and mouse game with you now, one that you aren’t even aware of playing?

But then he lets out a sigh and leans a little closer. Not much, just enough to make you freeze and raise your pulse. “Do you want something to happen?”

You gulp, but no word leaves your lips. It’s not that you’re too young, or too naive, or you’re simply intimidated by a man of power to speak up, it’s just pure confusion, a thick fog covering your brain that stops you from thinking straight when it comes to him. Every single little detail about him suddenly becomes significant, important, attracting your attention in a way it has never happened.

Every wrinkle, every imperfection, the depths of his eyes, the way his breathing stops for a moment when the smell of your perfume hits his nose once he leaned closer–they all get your attention, all at once. Your brain is hyper focused on him, the fact it can’t even properly process any other information making it hard to think straight.

With a thoughtful hum, he takes a better look at you, examining you as if you were some rare piece he wants to get his hands on. There’s no hunger in his eyes, no sign of some evil plan, it’s just him, being curious to hear what you think about the situation.

But you can offer absolutely nothing.

“You sent a message that you missed me. Why did you miss me? You can be honest, it’s just the two of us here,” he points out with a reassuring smile.

For the first time in minutes, you stop to think. “It came kinda naturally,” you admit quietly, carefully tasting your own words as you say them.

Toto nods, but remains silent. It’s easy to tell that he uses this heavy silence to coax a proper confession out of you, to make you realize what your brain subconsciously already knows, but how could you admit something if you don’t even know what it is?

You jump a little when you suddenly feel his hand bump into your shoulder. Not in an intrusive way, just poking you playfully to snap you out of whatever thought captivated you.

“Stay here. Just for a few days at first, let’s see what this is,” he suggests.

“And why did you write that you missed me? It’s only fair if you tell me too,” you point out with a small smile.

The way he laughs at this surprises you, because you simply can’t tell just what triggered it. Did you say something stupid? Did you do something that he found funny? But, luckily, you don’t have to think too much about it, because he suddenly closes the gap to place a quick, tentative kiss on your chin.

“Maybe because I actually missed you? Really badly missed you,” he begins as runs his lips down your neck. “You know, I wanted to meet you in that restaurant to talk about work. I’m negotiating a contract with Max, who told me he’s only coming to us if you’re tagging along,” he explains, although the sentence comes out in short segments as he’s too busy tasting your skin.

You want to say something, anything, but a quiet moan is all you can manage at this point.

“That night we talked so much, and I didn’t want to say goodbye,” he goes on as he places a hand on the side of your neck, his thumb putting just enough pressure on the front of it to make it feel good. “But you’re here now, and this is all that matters.”

Without thinking about it, you gently grab his chin and force him to look at you, and his eyes are instantly focused on your face, this time giving away just how much he wants you. But this is too much, too soon, you don’t want to give everything to him right away. You need to see if this could really work, if he means when he says his intentions have absolutely nothing to do with your best friend.

//////

A few days before the team heads out to Belgium, Max unexpectedly decides to visit Milton Keynes, and the only reason why you don’t get a heart attack when you find him sitting on the desk in your office is the warning you received from a colleague on the way inside. He flashes a stupid grin at you when you close the door, then waits for you to put down your bag and coffee.

It’s never a good sign when he does that.

“Is it too early to sing the song about you and Toto sitting on the tree–”

With a groan, you put up your hand to stop him from going on. “Shut up,” you warn, but then it hits you like a bus that you haven’t said a single word about seeing someone. “How do you even know?”

Max starts to laugh like some stupid little gremlin as he jumps off the desk. “Well, you know that we’ve been negotiating about a contract for a few weeks now,” he begins as he moves aside to let you take your seat. “You called him during one of our meetings, and he greeted you by saying your name.”

Shaking your head, you lean back and look at the ceiling. “He could have been talking to someone with the same name,” you point out, glancing back at him, but he just rolls his eyes at you, mouthing bullshit. “Are you seriously considering moving to Mercedes?” you wonder quietly.

He lets out a sigh as he sits in the chair across from you. “I said I’m not moving without you, but he said that’s a complicated issue. See? He pretty much told me you were dating.”

That’s true, it’s complicated. You barely talk about Max’s contract, but when it comes up, he only mentions that your friend wouldn’t come without you, but if you joined the team, the compliance department would tear him apart for dating a coworker, which means it’s a sticky situation he needs to solve somehow.

“I won’t leave you behind,” the Dutchman states seriously as he picks up a pen and starts to drum on his knee with it. “But Toto promised to find a solution, in fact, he said he’s already working on it.”

You don’t even know why you let out a sigh of relief upon hearing that.

//////

As it turns out in a few days, Toto’s great idea is going public with your relationship. While you suggest a post on social media, he says it would be better if you arrived at the track together on Thursday, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Are you still sure it’s a good idea?” you wonder when he parks the car in the parking lot.

He looks over at you, his face completely neutral, but there’s that warmth in his eyes that’s all too familiar by now. Instead of responding, he reaches out to take your hand and squeeze it lightly, silently telling you that everything will be okay.

You believe him.

You always do.

Once you’re both past the gate, he reaches out to take your hand as you walk deeper into the paddock, and you don’t miss the dozens of cameras that are now focused on the two of you, along with even more pairs of eyes that follow your every step. Normally, you would be nervous, but having him on your side, feeling the way he’s holding onto you, makes it impossible to feel that way.

“Are you okay?” he asks you as he looks down for a moment.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Hello, you two. Can I sing now?” you hear Max’s cheerful voice from the side. “Toto and Y/N are sitting on a–” You give him a warning look to shut him up, Toto gives you a confused look, and Max looks utterly happy with his little performance.

But maybe it’s okay, maybe this is the best that could happen. Max brought this to everyone’s attention, and the fact a member of the PR team is following him like a ghost to record a video, now they’ll surely post it on social media too.

The clock is ticking, counting down to the minute when–

He kisses you.

Toto kisses you in front of all these people, marking his territory, and making it clear that you belong to him now. Despite every single brain cell of yours focusing on him, you can still hear the loud whistle and then the laugh coming from Max’s direction. Soon it fades away, probably because he was taken away from this part of the paddock.

“I love you.”

You flash a small smile at him. “I love you too.”

And then, the moment he steps back and your little bubble is broken, every single journalist in the area runs over to the two of you, firing questions without a break. They want to know when this began, if it’s related to the deal between Max and Mercedes people have been murmuring about, if this is just a trick to convince Max to join, and so on and on.

It doesn’t even occur to them that maybe this is real, but you don’t mind. Not as long as people leave you alone.

Well. Sort of alone.

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