#this is now officially the longest fic I've written | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 11 months ago

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MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening.

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised.

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you.

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own.

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so.

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body.

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from.

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man.

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!”

“No, it’s alri–”

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat.

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out.

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help.

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there.

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help.

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment.

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop.

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help.

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you.

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult.

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back.

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those.

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice.

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!”

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you��d look weird standing on the pier on your own.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet.

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else.

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting.

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this.

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to.

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness.

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head.

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along.

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation.

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist.

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you.

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again.

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier.

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily.

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice.

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier.

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him.

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate.

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry.

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably.

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him.

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive.

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him.

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public.

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow.

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather.

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours.

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside.

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you.

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen.

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else.

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic.

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future.

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good.

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana.

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had.

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery.

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips.

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement.

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies.

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second.

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery.

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit.

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him.

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms.

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal.

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention.

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you.

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white.

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one.

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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leftneb · 2 months ago

Text

Curiositas aka sirens!AU

in which Lando is a siren with species dysphoria and Oscar is the defintion of Just Some Guy, who happens to get caught up in Lando's mess. and obviously they fall in love along the way etc etc

I first posted about this idea over 2 months ago and I'm happy to announce that there is now a fic in the works!!! which will likely take at least another 2 months because goddamn the concept outgrew itself (as you can tell by the fact charles and max also, like, exist now) it's sitting at ~8k words rn, which is by far the longest thing I've ever written in my life already, but story isn't even close to being finished, so yeah it'll take a while lmao

for now though I have some character designs and lots of thoughts, which I'd like to share :3

ramblings about their individual designs and details below the cut!!

and massive thank you to my dear partner @lailau7904 for not only holding my hand through writing the fic so far but somehow being even more insane about this whole AU than I am???

LANDO

main character (and POV holder) his design isn't based on any real fish, closest resemblance is to a fake fishing lure (reference provided)

very little scarring despite sirens' hunting culture, some tiny cuts and scratches around the top of his tail from smuggling pretty stones and shards of glass

absurdly bright green scales (I really could've made him fluorescent but I think that would be overkill) which is absurdly shit for stealth purposes but good for catching the attention of potential victims

vague triangle shape language but in a semi-elegant way

doesn't eat fish and would rather not eat human either

MAX

fills the position of a leader in his and Lando's colony, inherited the role in his late teens but grew up to it pretty quickly

shark motif, all sharp and angular shapes, visibly intimidating

lots of scars collected during hunts, wounds covered over by red scales from Charles

his scales are pretty dark but they shine blue when the light hits them just right (plus Charles' scales are a bright red lmao, which is a bit suboptimal for stealth but he thinks it's worth it)

CHARLES

koi fish motif, soft and round shapes

no scarring at all

has known Max since they were kids but actually didn't meet Lando until their 20s despite Max and Lando being childhood best friends

considered legally dead by monegasque officials (this has lore reasons which I'm not about to spoil)

GENERAL NOTES

the AU plays in a modern setting, altough sirens are very behind on human technology

their gills are on the side of their ribs! they can also all breathe with their lungs above water

funky scales patterns on their torsos around "modified" areas such as their gills and back fin

they have no hands but don't let that fool you! I was simply too lazy to draw any, what you would see if I did draw them tho would include:

webbing between fingers!! matches the colour of fins

longer, and more solid, claw-like nails

wrinkled palms and fingertips

I really wanted to make Max and Charles' torsos more life accurate but could not be arsed, they all have Lando's body type, aka I've accidentally twinkified Charles and Max lmao

by now you might have noticed that there's no design for Oscar, and as much as I really want to make a siren design for him that would have some pretty heavy lore implications so I'm... hesitant to do so

other people on my sirenification waiting list are:

George Russell and Alex Albon (for the 2019 rookies circle to be complete)

Franco Colapinto (based purely off vibes)

the whole grid really god I'm so ill

for the record Logan is a human in this AU but he IS present fuck you James Vowles

you may have also noticed the papaya version I labeled as McLaren themed (this one is also the highest quality image I have in this thread if you're gonna do any zooming in please do it on this one,,,,)

all throughout writing and drawing I couldn't help but think about another banger siren!Lando fic: Salt Skin by @strawberry-daiquiris! in which Lando has orange slash papaya scales, which I just had to draw honestly

a lot of my design process was also inspired by a piece by @dumbf1sketches (it's somewhere in the pile of other gorgeous art in that post)

bonus underwater version of all of them because it wasn't bright enough for me to feel good about it being at the top but it's still like, the main colour example to my brain

TAGLIST(S)

AU @mintraindrop @cx-boxbox (I know the og post is from actual ages ago but you two were interested so I humbly offer you these crumbs)

ART @santongkabayo @cyclonixi @alto-the-avocado @loquarocoeur

people that put up with my ramblings on dc @lyslsstuff @peppysinc @girlrussell

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ssivinee · 1 year ago

Text

✧Wounded Heart✧

Part 1 | Part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader: You've always been known as the smartest student in school, while Bada was known as the campus heartthrob and player. She decides to take advantage of her situation, but puts your heart on the line along with her passing grade.

Word Count: 9.2k

TW: Slight self harm

Note: This is the longest fic I've written so far😮‍💨. I felt so evil writing this, but I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THE ANGST😈. ALSO, please check out my new rule. If not, it just warns blogs with no pfps and reblogs. I have a high chance of soft-blocking you, as I may get shadowbanned bc Tumblr can't defer you from bots.

Character Vision Board

You were never one to gain any attention from anyone. Frankly, you liked it that way.

Known as the most reserved yet nerdiest student in school, you were never called by your name. How could anyone put a name to your face when no one knew what it was. People had only given you the title of top student in university.

Most people knew of your existence, but by always wearing your oversized hoodie over your head, glasses, and mask, you kept your identity a secret amongst your peers. You survived high school like this, so being in your final year of university and still being able to maintain it was a breeze.

It was a regular Monday morning, and you sat in the library before classes, trying to freshen up on your Physics lesson yesterday. You woke up at 6 a.m. to get ready, showered, and ate breakfast with an energy drink before heading out to the library. That was your daily routine, the loner lifestyle, if you will.

As you typed away on your computer, the buzz of other students started coming in waves at 9 a.m., hitting the clock. That meant it was time to head to your first class. After multiple hours of classes, hand-cramping notes, and sitting in the back of every subject, you headed to your favorite class, computer science. For some reason, your brain was highly advanced in this area, making it enjoyable.

30 minutes go by, and just sitting in the back of the class, a tall, nonchalant figure walks in. You visibly see your teacher's face contort as she rolls her eyes at the student. The notorious Bada Lee came in late once again. You believed she began to do it on purpose at this point, as she stopped giving excuses for her tardiness by the second week.

The thought certainly loitered in the back of your mind. You never understood why Bada was the way she was. This was one of the few classes with several options, so if you wanted to avoid taking it, you had multiple other choices. Yet, even being late every day, she showed up and did the work.

Maybe not to the best of her abilities, but she still did it.

There were a few things to note about Bada. She was captain of the school's basketball team and had a distasting reputation. The campus player and heartbreaker. It felt as though, every week, there was new drama surrounding a girl whose heart got broken by the tall student, and it always made you want to roll your eyes every single time. Never understanding why these girls chased and chased, even when knowing their situationships wouldn't be the way it was from their fantasies.

Nearing the end of the class, everyone was getting ready to leave, but the Professor stopped anyone from going further. "Before you leave, I want to discuss the upcoming midterm project."

She pulls up the presentation on the board and explains, "This project requires you to make an updated website for the school. The requirements will be posted online by the end of the day, and I will assign you a partner for this. The highest grade will have their website be used as the new official website for our school. This will be due a month from now."

Everyone becomes surprised and happy at the prize for their upcoming trials. Your professor begins to list the names, and she gets to you, "Baek Y/n... and Bada Lee." Your heart sank instantly at those words.

You grumble with your head down. Out of all the people in the class, you got stuck with the one who'd rather mess with a girl at any chance she had.

Bada sits in her seat, brows furrowed. Who the fuck was Baek Y/n?

Bada knew almost everyone, but she'd never heard of that name. That's when the Professor lets everyone go, and she sees a girl walk up to the teacher. You wore the gigantic hoodie, and Bada couldn't see your face, but with all the gestures you gave your teacher, you seemed like you weren't pleased about something. When she hears you huff in annoyance, and your eyes meet hers while leaving, she sees anger bubbling behind them.

Bada gets up, confused, and heads over to the teacher. "Professor Min, who was that?"

"That was your partner Baek Y/n. You've heard of the top student before, right?" Her eyes double at the older man's words, and her face becomes extremely happy. She would undoubtedly be using this to her advantage.

"Now, don't think of trying to get the girl to do all the work, Bada. I'm allowing you to bring up your grade with this project." She nods furiously before heading out to tell her friends the news.

She sees them over at their school's common room, and her friends, Aiki, Noze, Lee Jung, and Emma, give her weird looks like Bada grew three heads. "Now, why is she cheesing now?" Aiki asks, and the taller girl replies with a smack to her arm.

"You guys won't believe who my partner is for my computer science project."

The four girls looked at each other and began naming several popular girls. Bada rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "Well, you wanna tell us? We named like half the girls already." Noze says.

"Baek Y/n."

...

"Baek, who now?" Lee Jung looks at her in amusement, but your title shocks them, "Top Student." Their eyes grow wide. The group looked around the room to see if they could find you. "Her name is Baek Y/n?" Emma confirms, "She's in my class, so I'm pretty sure that's her name."

"Well, if you don't ace that project, she must hate you." Lee Jung jokes, making Bada think, "Truth be told, she didn't seem too happy about being my partner either."

"We wouldn't be happy either." "Can't blame her."

They kid around, but Aiki tells the girl, "You better stay on her good side. I'm sure if you don't do the work, she'll find a way to ensure you don't have a shared grade." "True, she's always been partnered with smarter kids, so she's never had an issue, but knowing you? You’re gonna need to play nice girl this time, Bada."

Bada scoffs at Emma's words, "She'll do the work by herself whether she likes it or not. Besides, I'm on everyone's good side." She shows a cocky grin, but Emma and Lee Jung specifically can't help but doubt her. "I don't know about this one. Doesn't seem like an easy girl to get through."

"Nah, have some faith in our girl," Noze says, patting Bada's hip. "Wanna bet on it?" Bada says, with pure confidence backing her up. "I get her to fall for me, and you owe me a month of doing all my assignments." Lee Jung smirks at the girl, "Deal."

"So when are you gonna start?" Noze asks as she eats her chips. "Not sure. Definitely not tonight, though. I'm seeing Redy after practice." All her friends roll their eyes at the girl's name, finding her ignorance ever so bothersome.

The next morning, you find yourself in the same spot as usual and have begun the project already. Bada finds herself looking for you on campus and figures, where do all nerds hang out?

The library.

She makes her way over, and as she enters, she automatically finds you in the corner of the large hall. "Hey there, partner," She greets, and you look at her dead in the eyes, "What are you doing here?" Your tone ached in annoyance.

"Come on, don't be like that. I want actually to try on this project."

"Fine. Let me ask you this first. Why are you even in computer science?" You were straightforward, your serious demeanor never fading. Bada is surprised by your daring question but never trembles, "I just thought it would be interesting." An irked scoff is heard from behind your mask, "Yeah, right," was said with an eye roll. Well, this is gonna be harder than she thought.

"I'm being serious. I wanna earn the grade as well." She whines slightly, and your eyes cry disgust. "Give me your number, and we can work on the project at my house after basketball practice." You grumble and slouch in your chair, and Bada, unconsciously, finds the position adorable as your oversized hoodie collapses on your body, "Sure," is all you mumble, not wanting any more trouble than there already was.

Bada grins as you write your information down on a purple post-it note and shows her excitement when you hand it over to her. You sat there as she left the library, wondering what she had planned for you. It wasn't like Bada to talk to nobodies to "do work." Yet the sooner you had this project done, the better you took her words with a grain of salt, hoping she was being at least a little truthful with her words.

You weren’t one to trust many people’s words, particularly from individuals like Bada, but you knew it had to be done for the sake of your grade. A hefty sigh leaves your body, and you try to go about your day without going too deep into it. During your last period, you feel your phone buzz and read an unexpected message.

Bada Meet me after practice at 5 PM at the gym. I’ll give you a ride so we can work on the project.

The recurring disdain takes over your face again as you read. You hate that you even had contact with the girl, so you just leave her on read as you remind yourself about the meeting. You would just have to wait for her, deciding to go to the school's garden as you let time pass. On the other end of campus, Bada stares at her phone in dismay, “Did she just leave me on read?” She mumbles to herself, and her fellow co-captain hears the uncommon words from the latter’s mouth. “Someone leaving the queen Bada on read? You don’t hear that every day,” Haechi tells the girl, and Bada sneers at the comment. “She’s just playing hard to get for now. Trust, she’ll fall for me by the end of the week.”

“Who is it anyways?” Haechi questions. “Baek Y/n,” she simply states, and the other’s eyes widen. “Like top student Baek Y/n?” Bada looks at her in confusion, “You know her?”

The latter shrugs, “We went to the same high school. She’s a sweet girl,” she adds, and Bada’s curiosity grows. “Sweet? Do you even know what she looks like?” “Nope, but if you care about your grades, she’ll notice and help you, even if you're struggling.”

Haechi was one of the few popular students in university who focused on her grades, so her statement wasn’t so out of the blue. “Know anything else about her?” Haechi briefly considers the inquiry, “She really likes energy drinks, from what I remember. She always drank the blue Monster cans.” But there was a slight hesitation in the co-captin’s voice.

“I know how you are, Bada, so I’m aware I can’t stop you from your plans, but try not to do too much damage to the girl. She’s too precious to be broken by someone like you,” Haechi tells her, and despite the brutal words, Bada doesn’t take it to heart, almost shoving it out of her mind.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The practice continues for hours before Bada notices your small figure sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the little time left. She jogs her way over to you with a bashful smile, “Hey, let me just change, and we can head out.” You just nod, wanting to get out fast, but Haechi’s familiar face has your eyes smiling. “Y/n-nie! Long time no see,” she opens her arms, and you gladly hop down to hug her. Bada watched the interaction, not knowing how to react to this side of you. You looked overjoyed to see the girl, and she may not be able to see your face, but the new energy made her feel a sense of loss.

She didn’t understand why you favored Haechi but not her. They were both tall, popular basketball team captains and had similar recognition in school. The only thing Haechi had over Bada was her straight A’s in classes. Was that the thing that would get you to like her? Bada grumbled at the concept. She wasn’t failing or anything, or else she couldn’t play on the team, but ALL her grades were not close to par with Haechi’s, not even a little bit. When her attention returns to the two of you, she sees you handing a new water bottle to Heachi, who thanks you. “You two seem close,” she tells them, and her co-captain looks at you almost with cherishing eyes. “Y/n’s the best man. Helped me a lot throughout high school,” you wave your hands in denial. “Heachi, you did your best in high school with or without my help. You’re hard-working,” your voice appears in a softer tone. Bada wanted to roll her eyes hard, but she left you two to change.

Bada wasn’t jealous, but maybe being narked was the better way to express her feelings. The girl was the type of person to feel better and superior to everyone else, so the fact that Haechi was already on your good side had her deep in her cycling thoughts. She needed to work hard to get this version of you, and not just with the project.

When she finishes, she tells you to go with her, and you hug Haechi before leaving the court and going to the parking lot with Bada. As she drove, she tried to make some conversation. “You started the project, right?” “Yeah.”

“You might have to teach me a few things so I can actually help.” “Sure.”

“You like computer science?” “Yup.”

That. That was the substance you gave Bada after every question. It made her want to jump out of the moving car, her ego bruised by your one-word replies. She stops trying after 10 minutes, letting the silence overwhelm you two, and you couldn’t have been any happier with the lack of sound. The car pulls up to this large mansion, and you try to hide your awe. This house was huge. Probably being able to hold the capacity of 200 students. “Come on in,” she invites with the large open door.

When you entered, your eyes marveled at the marble architecture, the classical aesthetic being the prominent feature of the house. Bada then leads you to the living room, where you sit timidly on her couch. “Do you want anything to drink?” She asks you as your eyes still wander the house. “Um, I’m ok.”

“Well, let me just change before we start,” you nod, taking out your laptop and notebook, trying to get a bit comfortable for your peace of mind. You pull up the empty website domain with only your school's colors and a sleek banner that takes up a decent amount of the screen. After 10 minutes, Bada returns with gray basketball shorts and a tight wife beater as her top. Your eyes go up and down her figure before focusing on the monitor.

You were honest, and as much as you didn’t understand Bada’s playgirl mentality, you did understand her appeal to the female population in school. Her tall figure, the varieties of colors she’d use on her long hair that cascaded all the way down to her waist, and the hats she wore to hold a sense of mystery were the perfect formula for the way to a girl’s heart.

“So what should I do?” Bada says, sitting beside you, which had you scoot in the opposite direction. “We can split the parts. Professor Min already put up the criteria for the website. I can do the harder stuff like navigation, school history, subjects, majors, and minors.” You tell her as you view the recent handout your professor had put up. “That’s too much, no? All I’d have left is the decorating, department information, and help desk information. Why don’t I help you with the major and minors?” You look at her with bewildered eyes, “You sure? A lot of coding and linking goes into that?” The taller one nods confidently, “You just have to teach me, and I’m sure I’ll be able to do it.” You nod with some hesitation.

“How about we start brainstorming the website's theme, and we can start with the project next week?”

“Sure, but why next week? My practices always end at 5-6 PM, so we should have time.” You shake your head, “it’s not because of you. I'm just gonna be busy with the school council this week.” And Bada looks at you in surprise, “Your part of the school council?”

“Yeah, but I’m just the secretary. Since the sports events are around the corner, I have to oversee everybody and their work,” you explain. Bada feels the admiration brewing inside her. She was aware of your hardworking nature, well, everyone was. You were the top student for a reason, but this put you on a different playing field. On top of your multiple studies, you did your due diligence as a prominent figure on their school council.

“Well, why aren’t you the president?” You scoffed, following a pity laugh, “Bada, I can’t lead anyone to save my life.” She stares at you, not understanding your point, and you take notice. “I might be smart, but that doesn’t mean I have leadership skills.”

“Maybe I can help you,” the tall girl shrugs. She thought she was a good captain for her team, so with that credit, she could give you pointers. “It’s fine. I like my position. I get to help everyone.” The two of you let the time pass as you continued to work on the project before ending the night.

The next few days, you had a lot on your plate. You were running around the school, ensuring all the projects and events were being set up properly, writing reports, and then reporting to the president and vice president about overseeing.

During this time, Bada rarely saw you in class, and she thought about how busy you’d be. You weren’t lying, huh.

But on a Thursday afternoon, you watched the gym setup and saw Bada’s little group chilling on the bleachers. Another student, Doyoung, walks in with papers stacked in his hands. It was all the papers you needed to sign and read through, but a basketball flew in his direction before he could reach you. His head throbs as he drops the papers, and you see Bada’s groupies laughing as Bada yells, “Sorry, Do-ah, the ball slipped out my hands,” she says as she collects the ball and returns to the bleachers. You ran over to the boy, helping him get the papers and helping him up. “Doyoung? Are you okay?” You help the boy up, and he stares at you, dizziness coating his face. You glare at Bada, who catches a glimpse of your raging eyes, and she realizes her fuck up in an instant.

“Come on, let me take you to the nurse,” you say as you grab his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Shit,” Bada says as she watches the two of you leave, you having the stacks of heavy paper sticking out of your bag. “Looks like your timing is off this time,” Noze teases, and Bada thinks she has to make it up to you. She ran out of the gym, trying to catch up to you. She found you settling Doyoung on the nurse's bench as you explained what happened, and to avoid punishment, she waited for you to leave the office before she could talk to you.

Walking out, you make eye contact with the basketball player and scoff at the sight. You tried to walk past her, but she stopped you, pulling your arm, “Y/n, wait.” You rip your arm away, feeling grossed out by her touch. “Did you feel cool?” You bluntly ask, and Bada is taken aback at your tone. “No, that’s not it-”

“Then what is it, Bada? It doesn’t take much to be nice, but it sure does take a lot of energy to be as rude as you.” The disappointment felt like knives to Bada’s heart. It felt like the same judgment she got from her parents, and now you were saying it to her? It made her want to suffocate six feet under. “I just wanted to be funny. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’m sorry,” she mumbles as her head hangs low. “That apology shouldn’t be for me, asshole. Apologize to Doyoung,” you tell her, leaving her where she stands as you are still much to do. “Doyoung-ah, just text me later when you get home,” the younger boy nods, and you return to your busy day.

“Dude, I apologized to Doyoung yesterday, and she still hasn’t texted me anything about the project,” Bada tells her friends as she paced back and forth. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Aiki says, and Bada looks at her in distress. “It’s a big deal 'cause I need that A to play in that prelims.”

“Maybe give her something to make it up to her?” Lee Jung suggests that Bada’s eyes grow at her words, remembering Haechi’s words. “The blue Monster,” she gasps, and her friends look at her weirdly as she runs off campus. Bada went to the convenience store, buying a can of Monster energy drink, some cookies, and an egg sandwich. It was early morning, so she knew she’d find you in the library at your usual spot.

Instead of being on your laptop this time, your eyes never left the papers you read and signed. Not even noticing her presence, Bada drops the bag lightly on the desk and pushes it in your direction. You look up, see the girl’s sorry face, and check the inside of the bag. “What’s this?”

“My apology to you for being a dick. I also apologized to Doyoung yesterday, so I’m in the clear.” You roll your eyes and sigh heavily, “Why are you like this, Bada?” Now she was confused, “What do you mean?”

“You're capable of being nice to people like me, so why can’t you do it to others?” Because other people won't help my grade, Bada thought. “I’m not sure,” Bada acts, trying to look ashamed. “But I know I’ll try my best to change,” she says, that confident smile taking place on her face again.

So, during the next few weeks, you worked with Bada. She did her best to show you the better version of herself. Yes, she was acting initially, but as time passed, she got comfortable with the routines. She attended classes earlier, paid attention, participated, and even studied. The week after the altercation, Bada had asked you to tutor her in certain subjects, and you gladly accepted, liking the direction of her change.

So, the two of you sat in her home on a Friday afternoon after school, and you were working on your chemistry assignments. You had become comfortable in the setting after working at her home a few times. “Y/n-ah, help me with this long-ass formula. It's confusing.” You giggle at the pout on her lips and check the screen. “The prefix is hepta- and check out the periodic table for the names.” You point to the table of chemical symbols, and Bada begins to understand the list of prefixes on the coffee table.

You continued your work and studied the current topic you guys were on. Bada looked at you, wondering, “I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable, but why do you always wear a mask?” You pause, not expecting the surprise question. “It just makes school go by faster. Drama-free too,” you express, and Bada rolls her eyes. “But it’s just you and I here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it makes my life easy,” you state. “Look, tomorrow, when you come over for the project, come without the mask, please?” You look at her in confusion, wondering why she was pressing on so much. But seeing her giving you puppy eyes, you reluctantly agreed, “Fine.”

“Great! Now help me with this question, please?” You laugh at her struggle.

The next day, you woke up to prepare for the long day. You took a shower, did your everyday skincare, and ensured you looked presentable. You were much more alert about your looks when you didn't wear the mask. You wanted to feel confident and ensured you did when applying the lip oil and putting your hair in a high ponytail.

You took an Uber to Bada’s place and rang the doorbell. When Bada opens the door, she takes in your appearance. You were out of your uniform for once, and the hairstyle displayed your small face clearly. Bada looks at you fondly, not expecting such a pretty girl to hide behind the mask daily. Even with the glasses on, your eyes looked large, and your heart-shaped lips colored bright pink. The tall girl couldn’t pull her eyes away from your lips. They looked too juicy not to kiss.

“Are you gonna let me in, or should I just stay out here?” Bada shakes her thoughts away and moves to the side. “So you were hiding this the entire time?” She asks as she pats your head, and you swat her hand away. “You practically begged for this.”

“And I’m not complaining,” She continues, staring at you, “go to school like this man.” “Okay, it was one thing asking me to come to your house like this, but school? Never happening.” You tell her, settling your bag down on the couch. “Wait, we should work in my room today. My parents are gonna be home today.”

She leads you into her room, the cool gray walls blinding your eyes. You observe your surroundings, surprised to see the clean room. She puts your bag on the office chair and lets you sit on her bed. You began to talk about what you’ve done on the project, but as you talked, Bada wasn’t even concerned about your words, focusing on your body more. Your outfit made Bada want to have you moaning underneath her, chest rising up and down as you begged for more.

“Bada?” You check on her worryingly. “Yes?” She whispers, still not staring at your face. “Have you done the majors and minors?” “I finished the majors, but I’m still working on the minors,” she tells you, clearly still entranced. “Can you show me?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” She shakes her head and takes her laptop out, showing the work she had completed, and you were visibly pleased with the progress. “This is actually really good. Nice job,” your validation had her heart swelling as your grin held a tint of pride. “Maybe you can finish up the minors today? Just so your work goes by faster.” She nods and checks out all the work you’ve done as well. “You finished all of these? That fast?” She stares at the screen, astonished by the amount of stuff you did the past two weeks. “Anything that needs to be done on a computer, I can do in a quick flash,” you joke, but it holds some sincerity. “I’m trying to be like you, girl,” She comments, and you laugh.

“Let’s do this so we don’t have much left to do next week.” With those words, the two of you worked the entire day. By the next time you checked the time, you realized the hours passed quickly. “Damn, it’s already 4 PM?” This also makes Bada check her phone, “Oh, your right. You want something to eat?” “I wouldn’t mind that actually.”

The two of you enter her kitchen, and Bada heated up some leftover Chinese food she had left in the fridge. Once you guys were eating, Bada tried to get to know you more, finding your presence comforting. “So, Y/n, why do you work so hard in school?” Your mind malfunctions at the question, unsure if you should be honest with the girl. “Um~,” you start, slowly picking at your food. “It’s mainly for my mom. My dad left us for his other family when I was five, and she raised me all by herself. This is the only way to give her a good life after everything she has gone through.” Your voice said with a hint of sadness, and Bada watched your pretty face fall. You wiped away the slight tears that formed. “You’re a good person, Y/n. Never forget that,” She tells you, and you find your heart racing at the words. Bada never had this effect on you, but her words of encouragement made your day.

She was about to continue the conversation, but another tall, more mature woman walked in the room, eyes looking cautiously at the sight of you. “Bada,” she called your partner's name, and you look surprised at Bada’s figure. She straightened herself up, fixing her appearance slightly. “Mother.”

“Who is this?” The older woman’s hand points over in your direction, and before Bada can answer, you decide to try and please the stern woman. “My name is Baek Y/n mam. I’m Bada’s partner for our computer science project. It’s nice to meet you.” You bow at the woman, and her eyebrows raise at your politeness. “Good manners, proper style, pretty face, excellent speaker,” her mom states, as her gaze moves around your body. “You should be more like this, Bada.”

“Mom, not in front of her, please,” Bada’s voice goes small, and you regret speaking up. “What? It’s true. Instead of basketball, you should be a model student. I should thank your teacher for partnering you up with this young woman.”

“I don’t know how we failed to raise you. This is how you should’ve turned out,” The older woman goes to your side, using her two hands to present you as if you were a presentation. Bada’s feelings were in a whirlwind. She wasn’t sure if she could be mad at you, her mom, or just the world. Her mom wasn’t even wrong. You were perfect in every way, and she was the disappointment. Two different worlds were crossing paths, and she was beginning to wish she was partnered with another individual instead of you.

Your eyes grow at her mother’s harsh words, and you shake your head, moving away from the woman. She wasn’t even aware of Bada’s new changes and efforts the last few days, but she belittled her daughter. “Madam, with all due respect-”

“Y/n. Don’t,” The tall girl tells you, with a stern voice, her breathing going shaky. “You right, mother. I’ll do better,” Bada says, head hanging low as she walks past the two of you. “What a dramatic girl,” You hear her mom telling herself, and you do your best not to ridicule the woman. “I’ll go check up on her,” you bow and run up to Bada’s room, finding the door shut. When entering, her back was turned to you as she sat on the edge of her bed. You were about to reach out on her shoulder but halted when you heard the sniffles as they gradually grew heart-wrenching. You rush to Bada’s side without any reluctance, pulling her into a hug. The warmth engulfing Bada had her break down instantly, never having anyone hold her as you did. Your eyes teared up at the sounds of her hyperventilating, her grip on your shoulder becoming tighter.

You then thought this was such a common occurrence for Bada. She put up this facade in school, wanting the attention of other women, and finally understood where it all stemmed from. Bada just wanted to feel loved and longed for, but with a household like this, it felt so hard to even ask for. She shouldn’t even have to ask. It was her mother, after all.

“Bada, you’re doing your best. Don’t let your mom’s words take that away from you.” You whisper as you rub her back, “If you ever want to talk, you can always talk to me.”

Bada begins to calm down at your words, the shakiness in her voice fading away. “Thank you, Y/n-ah.” She whispers, leaving her head on your shoulders. She wavers and asks, “Can you come to my game on Friday?”

“Of course. I’ll be your personal cheerleader,” you quip, in a shot to make her feel better, which works when a cheesing smile forms on her face. “You’d only cheer for me?” “Maybe for Haechi as well,” you tease, and she hits your arm with a pout. “Okay, ouch. I’ll cheer for you only, damn. No need to get violent on me.” Bada laughs at your words.

You try to stray from the topic, but you can’t help but ask, “Does she talk to you that way all the time?” Bada sighs, “Yeah, basically every time she’s home.” The lightbulb in your head flickers when she says, “My house may not be as extravagant as yours, but how about we work on the project on my house on Tuesday? I’ll send you my address, and you can come over after practice,” Bada’s eyes shined at the proposal. “I’d be honored.”

So the following Tuesday, you come home and relax on your bed before deciding to take a shower, feeling the stickiness of your sweat getting to you. You changed into a large baby pink shirt and some pajama shorts. Deciding to get a head start, you started your other assignments before Bada could get there. You worked on your easy English paper as you waited for the time to pass and heard the doorbell. Your eyes checked the time, and seeing 6 PM, you already knew who it was. You open the door to find Bada changed into gray sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and one of her iconic hats covering her head. “Well, Miss Bada, welcome to my humble abode,” you say, welcoming her in. Bada’s eyes roam around, taking in the simplicity of the house, finding it shocking as she took a liking to it. “It feels… homey,” She mumbles, and you pat her shoulder. “I have more space in my room. Let’s work there.”

Bada’s eyes wander to your exposed thighs when going up the stairs. They looked so thick and plump. Bada, never realizing the build of your body, wanted to grip your thighs until they were turning red. Once you let her into your sacred space, Bada sees the tiny potted plants you kept, shelves full of books, your desk looking organized, and your twin-sized bed and pillows wrapped in a light purple set.

“So I have the navigation and research of the school's history. I might leave that research for next week to work on other subjects today.” Bada nods, settling on your bed and opening her laptop, “What other assignments do you have to do?”

“I’m trying to finish my English paper and then study for next week’s Chemistry exam.” “CHEM EXAM?” Bada yells, startling you into a jump. “Yes, Bada, chemistry exam.” Bada rubs the back of her neck, “Can you help me study?” You smile at her, “Of course.” The two of you finished the topics you agreed to do today, and Bada explained that she only had the decorating left. “Y/n?” You hear a voice coming from downstairs, and you smile, “Yes, mom?”

“Did you and your friend eat yet?” Bada is bewildered at the foreign voice. Your mom knew she was here? “We haven’t yet!” You voice out as you put your hair up in a messy bun. “Come down and eat. I made some mandu and kimchi jiigae,” Bada’s eyes brightened at the names of the food. You giggle at her face and pull her into the kitchen with you. Bada makes eye contact with your mom, and the woman gasps. “Y/n, you didn’t tell me how beautiful your friend was.”

“Mom, stop~,” you whine as you give her a welcoming hug. Bada smiles at your relationship with your mom. It is the exact opposite of what she was used to. “Let me help you with setting up the table?” Your mom handed you the plates and utensils, “get comfortable, Bada. You’re about to eat some of the best food ever,” You tell the tall girl, trying to tease your mom, who laughs at your comment. “Come on, sweaty, sit down,” Your mom tells the basketball player as she puts both dishes at the center of your table.

“How was school you two?” Bada almost chokes on her first bite of food as your mom asks, not used to the motherly love. “Oh dear, here, have some water, darling,” Your mom pours a glass as you pat Bada’s back. “I’m sorry. Um, school was alright, thank you for asking,” Bada says, mumbling, and you smile pityingly at your mom. “Same mom, nothing new.”

“That’s good!” She finishes, letting you all eat in peace. “Have you rested this past week, Y/n?” You grin at your mom’s question, “You know I try and stop doing work an hour before I go to bed, Mom.” “That doesn’t count.”

You sigh, “Don’t worry. I plan to go to Bada’s game on Friday, so I’ll take a break then.” Your mom gets excited, “Really? Good luck with your game. I hope you guys win!” Your mom was joyful, even with what had happened in the past, which made her your hero. “I hope we win too, Ms. Baek,” Bada gives an appreciating smile. “Oh, please call me mom. Any friend of Y/n can call me Mom. She rarely has any friends, so,” Your mom whispers her ending statement, and you roll your eyes at her. “Can we not expose Y/n? Thanks,” You say, pointing to yourself. The two smile at your gesture, and Bada teases you, “She’s not wrong.”

“Look at what you started, Mom!”

After you ate and studied with Bada, it was already 9 PM as you walked her out of your house. “You’re mom is the sweetest person on Earth,” Bada says, a sense of peace taking over her as she held the bag of food your mom had packed for her. “I know,” you giggle, knowing how your mom was. She accepted everyone and anyone as long as they treated you and her kindly.

“Thank you, Y/n. You’ve been helping me so much recently, and I don’t know how to pay you back,” she says, bringing you into the tightest hug. Your chest pounded, feeling a new overwhelming feeling of emotions. You knew that you and Bada had become closer in the past few weeks, but now you blushed at her touch, making you nervous.

There was no way you were starting to like her, right? You believed Bada was changing for the better. She had stopped flirting with so many girls, focused more on school, and acted as a more proper captain for her team. That’s what you thought, at least.

It was Thursday morning, before Bada’s game, and she was chilling on her hour break with the rest of her friends. “How has the project been going?” Emma asks with genuine interest. “It’s actually really good,” She simply states, and her friends stare at each other, unsure of how to go about her answer. “You remember our deal, right?” Lee Jung asks the taller, reminding her of her words two weeks ago. “Of course, I do,” Bada’s words felt like a harsh smack to the face. Her statement simmered in her mind like she was lying to herself.

Bada knew she was changing, and whether she would like to admit it or not, the thought scared her. It was because of you and only you. She was never meant to go this deep or even this far with your friendship. She couldn’t help herself, though. She shared tears with you, personal issues her friends didn’t even know about, and even bonding with your own mother. Feeling like a brand new person, Bada felt liberated and accomplished. Lately, she thought she could stick up to her parents, defending herself from their judgmental words. Last night, during their family dinner, Bada’s mother and father had some words for her again. “Bada, your grades better be good this semester, or you’ll be sent to military school.” Her father tells her in an eerie, monotone voice. Bada looks at them, sensing betrayal. “Do you guys even love me?” “What kind of question is that?” Her mom gazes at the girl, the cold look never leaving her gaze. “You haven’t even noticed the effort I’ve been putting in the last few days. Everything I do is never enough for the both of you.” Bada’s parents were taken aback at their daughter's sudden outburst. “Maybe if you were putting this much energy before, we wouldn’t have to say anything to you,” her father points out. “It’s because of that Y/n girl. I should thank her for you.” Bada grumbles at the authority, not wanting to hear the same crap repeatedly. “I understand I may not have been the best child. Trust me, I know. But maybe if you two showed even the tiniest bit of compassion and love, I wouldn’t have turned out this way.” That statement had both her parents shut up, letting her words brew in their minds.

“Bada,” she hears your voice, pulling her out of her thoughts, and everyone looks at you. Your eyes looked at them weirdly as they looked surprised at your presence. “Are you free on Sunday? I have things to do on Saturday, but we can probably finish the project by the end of this week.” She smiles at you, “No problem, we only have a little to go anyways. It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you wave off, and Bada’s friends sat there, frozen at the exchange. “That might be the first time I’ve ever heard her voice,” Aiki says, hypnotized by your sweet voice. “I might have to snatch her up from you, Bada.” Noze kids, but Bada looks at her with stone-cold eyes, “No.”

Her friends sit there, unknowingly triggering something inside the tall girl. “It was just a joke, Bada, chill.” Lee Jung tells her as she shakes her head.

Emma looks at her, eyes growing at the assumption, “Are you falling for the girl?” Bada instantly looks at her like she’s crazy, “I just want to finish this project before you guys try anything,” she says, saving herself.

Being oblivious to Bada’s words, you were excited about her game tomorrow. Your outfit was planned. You had snacks and a Gatorade for Bada to drink during her match. Since Tuesday night, Bada had been running on your mind constantly, and you weren’t sure how to handle your feelings. It was the first time you were hardcore crushing on someone, and this project made it challenging to contain your emotions. Her presence, attention, and beauty had you fixated. Since this was a first for you, you wanted to slow it down, trying to navigate it as you went.

So when game day finally came, you wore your hair up in a sleek ponytail and wore an extra jersey that Bada had given you with the number 22. You paired it with some simple Air Forces and ripped baggy jeans. Keep up the mysterious facade. You had your black mask covering the lower half of your face. Everyone stared at you as you sat on the court, wondering what your relationship was with their school’s basketball captain. You only kept your eyes down, not enjoying the amount of attention you were getting.

Bada comes out from the locker room in full uniform and her eyes find your body, and an unconscious smile takes over her face. You looked adorable in the oversized jersey, and Bada just wanted to run up and hug you, but the game was starting soon, and the team had to warm up.

You space out, but the loud blaring of the alarm shocks you out of it. As a book-believing student, you weren’t familiar with the rules or how the sport worked, but Bada made it worthwhile. Bada was noticeably agile and had a massive amount of stamina compared to everyone on the court. As you watched and cheered after her every shot, a blonde girl noticed your attire. A scowl and a look of disgust replaced her cheers. You weren’t even aware of her, focusing on the tall girl the entire time.

When half-time took place, you handed Bada the drink you had prepared for her. Smiling at your gesture, she thanked you and sipped as their coach spoke to them.

The game started again, and as the timer was hitting the last few seconds, the score stood at 86-87, the score slim to the tee. Your heart beats anxiously as you watch Bada maneuver through the court. Haechi had passed the ball to her co-captain, and at 5 seconds, Bada had taken her chance at a three-pointer, and everyone held their breath as the ball spun around the rim. So when the ball fell in at the last second, all your school's students jumped and cheered at the epic finale. Bada looks over at you again, seeing your proud eyes on her. She blew a kiss at you, and you giggled as she celebrated with her team.

“Hey,” you hear her voice and turn around to see her sweaty figure, as her cheesing grin never leaves her face. “Wait for me at the parking lot? I’ll give you a ride home.” She offers, and you nod, pulling down your mask, not wanting to hide your thrilled face. “You were amazing out there, Bada.” The sincerity of your voice made Bada weak to her knees, and she felt giddy inside. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” You nod, leaving the gym to the parking lot, where you wait, sitting on a bench. When Bada watches you go, she feels the butterflies in her stomach and stands there terrified. The girl started falling for you, the feelings piling up since your first study session. This couldn’t be happening. Bada’s pride wouldn’t let it happen, so she had to do something about it fast.

20 minutes had passed, and Bada still hadn’t come out. Worrying began to fill your mind. You kept checking your phone every minute, and the same anxiety overtook you. You decided to look for her, which honestly didn’t take long. You turned the corner of your school's building. You saw two figures holding each other tightly as they enthusiastically made out with each other.

Due to the darkness of the night, you squinted at the sight, but as it became clear, your heart broke into a million pieces, feeling like it was now dust. It was Bada and another girl. They pull away from each other, breathing heavily, and you hide behind the corner you turned from. “What about that other girl?” The unfamiliar voice asks. “What other girl?” “The girl wearing your jersey?” You swallowed lightly, your chest becoming heavy in your current position. “She’s no one, baby. Don’t worry about it. She was just a little bet.” You hear her, and you sob in silence, walking away from the detrimental scene that just occurred right in front of you.

You sit at the curb, staring at the stars, and laugh at yourself, “You’re so stupid, Y/n. So stupid,” you mumble, the tears getting harder to contain as Bada’s words repeat in your mind. Of course, you were just a bet for her. You were just another girl added to her collection, and it made you fall into despair. She cried to you and opened up, yet you were just another girl. You hit your head lightly in frustration with yourself. “Y/n?”

You jolt up from your spot, wiping your staining tears away, and turn around to find Haechi, who looks at you worried. “You okay?” You nod with a deep breath and huff, “Yeah, just feeling down right now. No biggy,” you try saving yourself, but the cracks in your voice tell the girl otherwise. “What are you still doing here-” She was about to ask but realized what may have happened since she saw Bada walking out with some blonde student from her Physics class. Haechi’s face was now painted sorrowfully, engulfing you in a hug. Her touch had triggered the waterworks again, and you were now crying again, breaths getting weaker when each tear dropped. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi. I hate her. I hate her so much,” the tall girl rubs your back, letting you release your anger and sadness. “Don’t say that Y/n-nie, you’re the smartest girl in school. Bada is just… ruthless.” Haechi states, some rage hiding under her voice. She had warned Bada, and the captain still went against her word. “I’m like every other girl, Haechi.”

The tall girl pulls away, shaking her head furiously, “No. No, you’re not. Come on, let me take you home.” You nod, too tired to say anything and sit in Haechi’s car, taking a nap on the way home as you wasted so much energy.

Bada was now trying to look for you everywhere, not noticing how long she took, keeping you waiting.

Bada Y/n? Where are you?

She waited for a response, but it never came. She began to worry but let the win of her game control her mind. An hour later, she was home, and you just got back to her.

Y/n-ah😚 My mom wanted me to go home early. Sorry.

Bada sighed in relief. At least you were safe at home. She was about to respond, but you texted her again.

Y/n-ah😚 About the project, don’t worry about it. I’m finishing it tonight and sending it to Professor Min tomorrow morning.

The tall girl furrows her brows.

Bada Are you okay?

Y/n-ah😚 Splendid.

Safe to say, Bada was terrified at your one-word answers. She felt back at square one, but little did she know she wasn’t even close. Not anymore.

The next time Bada saw you, you were both in school, and she approached you with your favorite drink. “My payment for last week,” she says, handing the drink to you, and you dismiss the interaction instantly. “I’m good,” you tell her and just walk away. Bada stares at you in confusion and is about to go after you but sees you standing at Haechi’s locker. From afar, her co-captain seemingly handed you a blue Monster can, and you hug the girl, thankfully. The interaction had Bada bothered and angry. You took Haechi’s drink but not hers?

She would talk to you about it one way or another, but she couldn’t find you the entire day. The fact that you didn’t have computer science today didn’t help the matter. So Bada decided to talk to you at your house. The rain began to pour, but it wasn’t stopping her from finding out what was wrong. She rang the bell at your gate, unsure if you were home, but when you opened the door, a glimmer of hope sparked until you spoke. “Go home, Bada.”

“What?” “I said go home,” your monotone voice made her want to hide. “Y/n, talk to me, please?” “Why should I?” She looks at you in shock. “What happened?”

“You wanna know so bad?” You walk up to the gate, anger fueling your eyes. Not even caring about the pouring weather. “Somehow, me being the smartest girl in school means nothing when it comes to you.”

Bada didn’t say a word, not knowing where this conversation was going. “Congrats, Bada, you made the top student in school look like the most mindless person in the world.” Bada’s eyes widen, “what do you mean-”

“Oh, don’t act stupid.” You groan and look at her with eyes of disgust. Bada sunk into the thought. She was back to square one. “I seriously don’t understand-” “You don’t understand sucking off another girl’s face while I waited for you in the parking lot? God, when I thought there was progress in your thought process these past few weeks, but I guess I was wrong.”

That’s what froze Bada, her heart dropping at the statement. You saw and heard everything. Bada only wanted to beg for forgiveness right then and there, but she knew she had no right to. It's not like you were gonna accept it anyway. “Y/n I-”

“Just save it, Bada. You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it. I’m just another girl, right? Or what was it you told blondie? A bet?” Bada had no words to save herself, wanting the ground to swallow her whole in shame. “Forget about it, Bada, forget we were ever friends.” You left the conversation at that, slamming the front door behind you. That’s when you broke down. The crying just couldn’t stop, kneeling on the floor of your home as the dreadful silence filled your ears as you heard the heavy rain and thunder pouring outside the windows. For once, you hated the silence.

The next day, Bada wanted to try and apologize again. She looked and looked, not finding you anywhere on campus. She then looks for her second-best bet and sees her standing with her friends. “Haechi!” Bada runs up to the girl as she waves her friends off. Her co-captains eyes held frustration, and it told Bada she also knew the situation. “Do you know where Y/n is?” “Why? So you can break her even more?” Bada knew to expect this, but she wasn’t expecting to be cornered by the girl who shoved her into the lockers.

“I fucking told you, Bada, but what Bada wants, Bada gets, right?” Haechi’s pointer finger drilled into her chest, and the captain winced in pain. “I-I wanna make it right.” “Too fucking late.”

Bada’s body ignores the pain at her words, “What do you mean?” Haechi looks at the girl whose eyes began to water slightly. “She’s leaving for the States. The school gave her an internship for 5 months.” Bada’s world crumbles, and she takes out her phone, sending you multiple messages.

Bada Y/n, I’m sorry. Please don’t go. It was a mistake. I was stupid. I was falling for you, and I was scared. Y/n?

Bada’s tears were uncontrollable as they fell, reading how her messages weren’t sending. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Bada was now beating herself up in the middle of the hallway. She was hitting her head hard with her fist, pulling her hair harshly, and everyone who saw looked at her in worry. Haechi was shocked at the girl’s actions, seeing how bad she genuinely felt. She did her best to pull Bada’s arms away, and Bada slid down to the floor, blubbering as Haechi did her best to stop the girl from hurting herself. “I’m so fucking stupid, Haechi.” Her teammate didn’t know how to respond, just holding Bada’s arms down as she cried her pain away.

A/n: SHIT IS INTESNE RN DAM.

Tag list: @chipswsauce @nimixe @yooqui @eeeetaetterswife @efyyylee @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog

#gxg #wlw #bada lee #bada lee x reader #bebe #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 x reader #swf 2 x reader #swf x reader #bada lee x fem reader #ssivinee

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kakujis · 1 year ago

Text

what do i call you?;

summary: oliver thinks you'll be easy, just like the other girls he's slept with. but things are different when you don't cave in like he wants. pt 1 | 2

warnings: college!au, afab!fem reader, fratboy!oliver, wildcard!kunigami, this one is a bit angsty, oliver is actually a big softie, situationships, implied fwb with kunigami + karasu, one sided pining (oliver), oral f!receiving, praise, pet names, p*ssyjob, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader is confused on her feelings, if i missed anything lmk, around 7.1k

an: this took me literal months... send help. well, it's finally here! after months of sitting in my drafts half written, i was able to finish it. if the smut is bad, i'm sorry idk how i did it before LMFAO. thanks to zen for letting me ramble about this in their dms for months. tbh i think this is the longest fic i've written so far and ofc it's about this guy LOL. also, i may or may not have a mini playlist for this so lmk if u any of u would like the link :>. resident of: @enchantedforest-network

the first time you “meet” oliver aiku, it’s the morning after you were a drunken mess on your best friend’s back. it’s not that he’s surprised to see someone that isn’t sendou shuto in his kitchen, it’s the fact that you’re not walking out yet. instead, you fix yourself a bowl of cereal, barely paying any mind to the brunette watching you. before he can speak you leave, padding back to sendou’s room.

the second time happens when he catches a glimpse of you in the library with karasu tabito. your arms hanging around his shoulders in a back hug, as you peer down at his laptop. he notes the proximity and nonchalant demeanor of karasu, typing away while he talks to you about his latest class, even with your cheek pressed against his. maybe you’re his girlfriend, he thinks, before shrugging and moving on.

the third time happens when you stumble down a hallway at a party, bumping into him as you giggle out a quick, “sorry!” but kunigami rensuke isn’t far behind, grabbing your hand and scolding you before he offers an half assed apology as well. he doesn’t think much of it, preoccupied by his own date, until he sees kunigami pick you up as you babble in his ear about something.

the official meeting is when you’re having a movie night with sendou at his dorm again. your head lays in the red head’s lap, texting your friends as you give distracted “mhm”s to whatever sendou’s saying.

“are you even paying attention?” sendou asks, eyes flickering between you and the screen. before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“sen, i really don’t care about whichever gravure idol you’re into right now.” you reply, before your lips curve up into a smile at whatever text you’re reading.

for once, he’s unsure what this feeling is inside him. is it jealousy? awe? he can’t pinpoint the reason why his dual toned eyes always trail to you, taking in your pretty form. but he’s oliver aiku, he could probably get into your pants if he tried hard enough.

he slides down onto the couch, slinging an arm over sendou. “whatcha watchin’?” he’s not really paying attention to what’s on the tv, their voices muffled as he notes your form through his peripheral.

the red-head shrugs, “some romcom that she picked out and isn’t even watching.” he pokes your head, “at least introduce yourself.”

“mm?” you hum, moving your phone away to peek up at oliver. from the way you’re positioned you’re viewing him upside down. you readjust, twisting and pushing yourself up onto your knees, leaning over with one outstretched hand. “hi, i’m y/n.”

“you’re blocking the screen!” sendou exclaims, but you don’t move, eyes locked on the brunette across from you.

oliver tries his best not to leer, really, but he drinks you up with his eyes. it’s hard not to since you’re wearing a shirt that’s clearly too big with the way it falls off one shoulder. he thinks you’d look pretty underneath him and wonders if you make even prettier sounds.

he reaches over to shake your hand, to sendou’s dismay, and maybe it’s cliche but he swears he feels a spark for the very first time. it’s something that gets his heart racing, something new and exciting.

“i’m oliver, nice to officially meet you.”

the upcoming months blur and melt into each other, there’s not much to be noted. beyond you coming over every so often to hang out with sendou, what is there beyond soccer practice, classes half paid attention to, and meaningless hookups? frat parties? sure, you both attend them. with each other? not necessarily.

no, you continue to evade oliver aiku’s grasp.

“i can’t,” the text reads, “i promised to go with kunigami.”

he frowns, before typing back: “maybe next time then?”

“maybe.”

it’s fine, he thinks, fixing himself another cup of alcohol. he’ll find another girl, it’s easy. but even the ones he’s been with before, the ones who always answer his texts for a quick fuck are starting to bore him.

it doesn’t help that when you arrive you look so good or that you excitedly greet everyone with a smile and a hug. his hands always linger on the small of your back until you pull away, scampering back over to your date.

it’s confusing, you swear up and down that you aren’t dating kunigami, but anyone would think you’re with him. especially when your arms are always laced around him, body pressed against his as the two of you talk. he’s always wondered what you could possibly be talking about, kunigami isn’t much for words let alone full blown conversations. but maybe he’s like oliver, fallen deep for how easy it is to talk to you.

seconds tick into minutes, which turn to hours and before either of you knows it, you’re tipsy, lips curled into a smile as you giggle and shout while your friends play beer bong. he leans against the wall with sendou, trying his best to not stare.

“you could try talking to her more.” his friend says, breaking the silence between the two. “or are you just gonna stare at her forever?”

“is she with kunigami or not?” he asks, ignoring the question, “every time i ask her out i get turned down.”

“yeah, i dunno either, she doesn’t really answer that.” sendou replies, taking another sip of his beer. “i think she’s just messing around, if that helps.”

if that helps - oliver is pretty sure it doesn’t, but he knows sendou isn’t going to tell him everything. still, the vague response pisses him off.

there’s also the fact that the two of you have similar friend groups and that you’re a clingy drunk that throws him off. when he finds you in kunigami’s arms again, dozing away in the crook of his neck, the grip intensifies on his cup, indenting the red plastic. his close friends notice it too, the weight of his stare is heavy as if there’s on a spotlight right where you’re sitting.

but he puts the facade back on when another girl approaches, a welcoming distraction. she’s cute and he recognizes her as being part of his fraternity’s sister sorority. unfortunately, he just can’t focus on her and what she’s saying. his eyes continue to flicker back to you, hot jealousy continuing to bubble in his stomach when he sees kunigami’s hand rub circles on your inner thigh.

the girl is still talking and he’s doing his best to at least nod when she finishes a sentence. but the final straw is when you sleepily smile at kunigami, as he reads your lips, ‘that tickles!’.

“hey,” he interrupts, grabbing the closest friend to him, “could you excuse me for a second? by the way, this is sendou.”

it was brief but for a moment, sendou felt it. the too tight grip on his shoulder and the nails digging into his skin through this cotton tee indicated one thing: jealousy. but before he can speak, oliver’s maneuvering his way through the crowd with a one track mind.

when he makes it over to you, your grip on kunigami’s shirt is so tight as his hand continues snaking it’s way under the hem of your skirt. you’re not sure if the heat is coming from desire or the alcohol swimming through your veins. your gaze is something oliver’s seen before with countless other girls, it’s sweet, but laced with want.

“hey, pretty girl.” he says, voice cutting through the air like a knife.

you tear away from kunigami’s gaze, smiling cutely when you see who it is. “oliver~ hii,” you sing, twisting a little out of the ginger’s grasp to reach your arms out towards him. “come, come.”

his heart thumps against his chest and he moves closer to bend down and give you a side hug. “what’s up?”

“mm, nothin’,” you chime, tilting your head to the side, “just hangin’ out, right rennie?”

rensuke nods, but his eyes are locked on oliver, clearly annoyed at the interruption. his arm finds it’s way around your waist, pulling you closer.

as fast as you make oliver’s heart race, you’re just as quick to make it drop. it’s a nickname and nothing more, right? so why does it feel like he’s going to throw up? something that sounds sweet on your tongue feels sour on his.

there’s something beyond the disdain that he hides behind his forced smile and if oliver's one thing, it’s petty.

“aren’t you a little too drunk, y/n?” he asks, grabbing your arm before pulling you up, maybe it’s the irritation but he almost yanks you out of the ginger’s grip.

it catches rensuke off guard as you stumble up and out of his lap. you’re shaky on your feet, but oliver’s there to replace not only kunigami but any thought inside your pretty head.

if you weren’t so drunk you’d probably notice the hammering of his heart as you wrap your arms around his neck for stability.

“carry me?” you slur and he nods, chest swelling with pride because tonight he won.

“of course, wouldn’t want anyone takin’ advantage of you.” he smirks, leveling his gaze with kunigami.

if he was being honest, he would probably lose if he got into a fight with him. yet, the sweet satisfaction that he can hold onto in this moment overtakes that thought. with your head on his shoulder, you start to doze off, missing the way kunigami stands with balled fists.

“what do you think you’re doing, aiku?” he starts, before moving forward, but oliver steps back.

“making sure y/n’s alright,” he says, “besides you were pretty touchy just now.”

“cause she’s my date.” he states, starting to get irritated with how every step he takes forward oliver takes another back.

“and she’s had too much to drink, right y/n?” you mumble something incoherent and oliver nods. “see?”

the air is tense. not only is oliver edging kunigami on but the group playing beer pong has noticed and quieted down. before things continue to escalate, karasu swings by, wrapping an arm around the wildcard’s shoulders.

“oi, rensuke we need someone to fill in fer otoya.” he says, eyeing oliver as well. if only he could laugh at the irony.

if it isn’t number one and number two. he thinks, recalling the amount of time he’s seen you, arms linked with karasu’s as you wander the halls to your next class. but three is the luckiest number, or so he’ll hope. and besides, hierarchies can always change.

rensuke’s quick to shrug the crow off, the scowl on his face ever present, but tabito doesn’t seem to mind. he’s too focused on the sleeping girl in oliver’s arms.

“well, i don’t really feel like fighting today,” oliver continues, “so we’ll be on our way.” he walks off before the other two can get a word out, nodding to sendou who seems pleased to talk to someone about himself.

there’s only the sound of the shoes on pavement as oliver walks you home. nestled in his arms, you sometimes perk up to mumble something incoherent or make a noise in his ear. he doesn’t mind, the campus is nice and quiet at night.

“oliverr,” you slur out, “where are we goin?”

“home, princess.” he answers, making sure to call you all the nicknames he wants.

“your dorm?” you ask and he swears the red tips of his ears are from the cold. but it’s not cold at all, it’s the middle spring semester.

“if you want?” he jokes, before quickly adding, “nah, yours.” he’s told himself before that if he waits it out, he’ll get to you. but it’s been a few months of this back and forth, where you feel so close yet so far.

“we can’t go to my place!” you whine, “i forgot my key.”

“and where’s your roommate?” he asks, stopping, because he’s realized another thing. he doesn’t even know where your dorm is.

“at the party,” you pout, before pulling away and looking at him. “you’re cute, oliver. you should date her.”

he gives a dry laugh, heart only semi-crushed. you think he’s cute. he’ll take it, especially when it’s beat accelerates further when you push his bangs back.

“sweaty.” you note, before wiping at his brow.

“hey,” he says, knowing that a blush has crept onto his cheeks, “stay on track here. where am i taking you tonight?”

“your place.” you furrow your brow. “how many times do i have to say that?”

“sorry! just making sure.” he says, shrugging before resuming the walk. it’s not too far off course, if there ever was a course to begin with.

you settle back into place, head on his shoulder, and humming to yourself. oliver appreciates the music.

“not gonna take my offer, eh?” you ask, breath tickling his neck. “she’s pretty, funny, but not as funny as me, remember that.”

“i don’t think i’ve met her before, have i?” he asks, scanning his mind of recent memory. truth be told, he can’t recall you showing up with anyone that wasn’t a guy on the soccer team.

“hm? you know everyone.” you counter.

feigning innocence, he asks,“do i?”

“maybe its because you’ve met soo many girls, you don’t remember her.” you retort and he winces inwardly at the disdain clear in your voice.

“c’mon now,” he says, “i really don’t know that many.”

you hum, “mm, i bet if i didn’t show up as often you wouldn’t remember me-”

he’s quick to cut you off, “not true.” it’s too early to say he loves you, maybe infatuated is a better word.

“if you say so,” you sigh, mind still buzzed and muddied. “are we there yet? i’m sleepy.”

“just up the stairs,” he mutters, “feel free to fall asleep.”

when the two of you arrive at the dorm, you’re fast asleep. he tries to move you onto the couch but you continue to cling, grumpy moans coming from you as he tries to pry you off.

“you’ll kill me if you wake up in my bed,” he mutters, so he carries you off to sendou’s room. “here, it’s sen’s bed.”

“don’t go, i need to cuddle with someone,” you mumble, words still slightly slurred, “til sen comes back at least.”

he stills, knee sinking into the mattress, one hand on your back the other on the bed to steady himself. “you’re gonna kill me when you wake up.” he murmurs, but suddenly the perfume you’ve wearing smells really good. so does your hair and even the skin sticky with sweat is appealing. he wants to stay.

“noo, i won’t,” you whisper, the scent of alcohol still heavy in your breath. “promise.”

“…you want me to stay that badly?” he jokes, inwardly cursing at how easy you make him crumble.

he swears his heart nearly stops when you giggle out a “yeah.”

he settles in, maneuvering the two of you so that you’re laying on his chest. you fall back asleep quickly, nuzzling into him while your arm is splayed across him.

it’s comfortable, he thinks, different from the other girls who get up and leave him after sex. not that he ever asks them to stay, actually preferring it when they leave. but he didn’t realize that someone could actually feel this good in his arms.

“i think i’m actually falling in love,” he scoffs in disbelief, before throwing a palm up to his forehead, a grin plastered on his face. “goodnight, princess.”

he’s not surprised that you left before he woke up that morning. what’s actually surprising is how you seem to avoid him more lately afterwards. at least before you’d throw a few snarky remarks his way and listen to him talk for a bit before you’d inevitably wander back to your phone.

it’s been about two weeks since that night and oliver’s got the message enough to leave you alone for most of the time you’re over. even when you come over for a movie night, he’ll try to keep his talks to you at a minimum. sometimes inviting over another teammate to fill up the awkward silences.

even before the incident, he thought that maybe there’s a reason for it. a reason that he contemplates more one day as he watches you from the corner of his eye. there’s a reason why you’ll lay in sendou’s lap and not his, why you’ll hold hands with your other friends and not him, why they get meals while he gets scraps.

he’s got it half right. there’s been too many texts from sendou asking how to get a crying girl out of his dorm, too often have there been “and that’s another one out the dorm,” calls.

there’s a reason you keep him at arms length, why the most affection you’ll do is give him a quick hug. but he feels that you’re chipping down ever so slightly with each hang out, each party, and each “goodnight.”

is that why tonight you don’t follow sendou to his room when he says goodnight? why you awkwardly fiddle with your hands, something he’s noticed you do when you’re nervous. he misses you and he feels a little more ambitious or perhaps insane for thinking that you might miss him too.

he clears his throat, prompting you to peek at him from his side of the couch. “you goin’ to bed?”

to his relief, you shake your head answering, “not yet, you?”

“depends. you want company?” he asks, sliding over to where you’re sitting.

you giggle, something he hasn’t heard from his end in weeks, giving in to his little game. besides, no one else will text you back this late at night, “i don’t know, do i?”

he grins, “i think so.” emboldened, he glides his hand underneath your blanket, before he presses his hand against your thigh. he waits a second to see if you’ll stop him, but you don’t.

his hand trails up until it’s dipping past the waistband of your shorts. he smirks when he feels the wet patch on your undies, “and here i thought you didn’t like me.”

your breath hitches slightly, “what do you mean? i’m always nice to you.”

“thats debatable.” he mumbles, slipping your panties aside to ghost his fingers up and down your slit. “especially lately, you don’t even wanna look at me.”as he’s about to sink a finger in, you jolt forward, grabbing his wrist.

“wait!” you gasp, chest heaving. he stops, just like you ask, never having seen you so flustered before.

“waiting.” he says, doing his best to not have his mind too muddied by the heaviness in his pants.

“i don’t want to.. um, i don’t think we should fuck.” you stumble over your words, unable to take your eyes off his hand.

he blinks, “okay.” he won’t push it. retreating, he tries to sit back, but you don’t remove the grip on his wrist. “uh, are you gonna-“

“we could… do other things though.” you mumble, but you release his hand and push it away anyway. “actually, nevermind.”

he grins, finally getting it. “so you want me to finger you, is that it?”

“do you have to put it that way?” you groan, laying back and covering your face with your hands.

“finger fucking?” he jokes, but he’s slinking back forward, his hand traveling back to it’s rightful spot.

you groan again, but not without spreading your legs for him and he smiles.

“not gonna talk to me?” he continues, one thumb slowly stroking your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

“do you want me to change my mind?” you answer, muffled by the sleeves of your hoodie.

“please don’t,” he laughs, before tugging at your clothing. “can i?”

you nod again and he’s quick to pull them off. it’s his turn to lose his breath, lost in how pretty your folds glisten for him.

change of plans, he thinks as he levels himself down onto the bed.

“oliver?” you call, peeking through your fingers again.

“as long as we don’t fuck right?” he asks, licking his lips and you can read the anticipation clear on his face. but he’ll wait for you to say yes, like a dog on a leash.

you nod again, the both of your hearts hammering as you do and he dives in. he starts slow to savor it, his tongue moving with long languid strokes between your folds.

he knew you’d taste good, but not this good. even better are the noises you make, well the ones you’re trying to hide. he glances up at you, your face contorted as you bite down on the sleeve of your jacket. a heavy blush creeps onto his face, you’re so pretty.

you arch your back as he slides his tongue over your clit, bringing his fingers up to prod at your opening. he continues to work his tongue over your already swollen clit, suckling out mewls from your lips. when he sinks his fingers in, your jaw drops as you gasp out a “fuck!”

covering your mouth again, you whimper as he picks up the pace. he wants to hear that pretty voice again, so he curls his digits up inside your gummy walls and to his delight, you sob out again.

by now he’s realizing he actually has shit self control. pushing your clothing up, he pulls off your already swollen clit, readjusting himself as he starts to leave sloppy kisses up the expanse of your belly.

“i wanna hear you, i wanna see you,” he mumbles, latching onto your neck and sucking in a mark. “besides, sendou’s asleep.” he actually has no clue if his best friend’s asleep, he’s just so high on you that he doesn’t care.

“take me to your room then,” you whimper, conceding, breathless and squirming. he smiles against the crook of your neck before removing his fingers from your cunt. he picks you up fast, scooping you up as you tremble in his embrace.

he practically sprints to his room, slamming the door shut before throwing you into his bed. you scramble to take the rest of your clothes off. he wanted to see, remember?

you tug on his shirt, it’s only fair if you take your clothes off that he does too. “hey… take this off.”

“i thought we weren’t fucking?” he laughs, but you raise a brow.

“do we need to fuck if we’re naked?” you scoff, but in reality, you feel a bit too exposed.

he grins, shrugging, “nah.” then he’s quick to take off his own before pushing you down. “let me finish eating, yeah?”

you settle back, sighing out a breathless, “yeah.”

with your legs spread so nicely, it’s easy for him to get back to work. he spreads your eager folds with his thumbs, admiring your pretty pussy before spitting down a lob of saliva. you jolt at the feeling, but he uses an arm to keep you still. he has work to do. his tongue begins lapping back at your folds before diving into your cunt, slurping at the arousal leaking onto his sheets.

oliver’s not typically a giver, maybe having only given a couple times in all of hookups. but this was different, he could probably eat you out for hours if you could stay a twitching, mewling mess underneath. perhaps he was starving, growling as he pulls you in even closer and you find your hands in his hair.

as his name leaves your lips like a chant, he continues to tongue fuck you, your slick trailing down his chin. your core burns as you grind onto him, chasing after your release, his stubble lightly scratching across your skin.

he switches, latching back onto your clit with nimble fingers working their way inside you. “cum for me, baby.” he murmurs, curling his fingers up again just how you like it. “you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?”

“s-shut up,” you sob, but the praise hits in all the right places as you arch your back. another indication that you like it is the harsher pull on his strands, a string of obscenities leaving your mouth.

“aw, i’m just tryna make you feel good,” he muses as he hears your first frustrated noise from pulling away. “close huh?”

“oliver, please.” you whimper, brow furrowed as you gaze down at him. you’re so close, but just his fingers scissoring you isn’t enough.

he tilts his head, “please what?” he asks, and you wonder when he got so fucking bold. “use your words.” maybe it’s the blood rushing straight to his head that’s got him out of sorts, but for the first time he’s got you where he wants you. he may be the one caged between your thighs, but you're the one that’s stuck in his web, begging for release.

his fingers continuously moving in and out of you makes your eyelids flutter, especially when he picks up the pace. “i wanna cum, please,” you beg, “please, please, please.”

he laughs out an “that wasn’t so hard right?”, before he’s back onto your bundle of nerves. he seeks out the friction of the bed for his own pleasure, his cock hard and heavy as he grinds out against the sheets.

right now though, the focus is on you. the focus is the way your thighs clench closer together, boxing him in, letting him know when what he does is good. it’s the way you greedily grind up into his face, tumbling his name off your lips like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

you finally burst when oliver murmurs, “so fucking good for me,” his breath hot on your clit. he finger fucks you through your orgasm, continuously praising you, “good job, beautiful, that’s it.”

you pant, pushing at his hand when you’ve started to get overstimulated. he slips out, but pushes you back when you start to reach for his cock. you watch with doe eyes as he smears your slick across his cock, stroking himself.

“keep your legs open.” he says, eyes lidded. “i won’t fuck you, don’t worry.” he reassures when he sees your eyes widen more.

you comply, still slightly twitching from your orgasm, when he settles himself between your folds again. he’s not far off, not when he’s been drunk off the sound and taste of you. but the wetness between your folds has his head spinning. he slips so easily between them, he wishes he could just slide into you, but he’s good at keeping his promises.

he uses one hand to keep his cockhead pressed firmly against you. you think it’s messy, his hand covered in arousal, precum, and saliva but you’re both a little mesmerized by the scene. the two of you make eye contact and he breathes out, “you’re so beautiful.”

“stop complimenting me,” you pout, before you’re pulling him down to rest his forehead against yours. “or else i’ll kill you.”

“i thought you were gonna say you’d fall in love with me,” he muses, lips barely ghosting over yours as he continues to rut in between your folds.

“in your dreams, oliver.” you murmur, but you tilt up and kiss him anyway. you taste yourself on him but can’t seem to care, as his tongue slips in to intertwine with yours.

that’s enough to set him off, shuddering as he comes undone on your belly. white hot ropes paint your skin and you pull away, lips swollen. you fall back on the bed, the only sound the two of you panting.

oliver lays down next to you, staring at the ceiling. he brings his hand up, staring at his sticky fingers covered in fluid.

“gross,” you cringe and he peeks over at you. “clean me up?”

“sure.” he’s quick to get up, grabbing a box of tissues by his bed.

“all men are the same.” you groan, but there’s a smile dancing on your face.

“yeah, this is the brand sendou and i prefer.” he jokes and you smack him playfully. he uses the tissues to clean his hand first before moving onto you, scooping up the remnants of what just happened. he pauses when he moves lower, looking at you.

are we… anything? he wants to ask, but he bites his tongue when he notices you staring back. he cleans up the rest, before asking, “so, what now?”

“i’m gonna shower, that’s what.” you say, pushing yourself up and grabbing your clothes. you don’t put them on, there’s no point since both the guys in this dorm have seen all of you.

as you turn the knob to leave, he asks, “can i join you?”

you scoff, shooting him a look. “absolutely not.”

he figured you’d say that.

it’s only 8pm on a saturday when sendou’s phone blows up.

“sorry,” he says, reading the letters of your name across the screen. “i gotta take this.”

it’s a rare night in, oliver’s own phone buzzing with “where are you?” texts from his friends. he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the way you squirmed and moaned for him was enough to set him over. falling further into the sticky web of your hold.

when sendou walks back in, the expression on his face is mixed with concern and confusion.

“something happen?” oliver asks, pausing the movie.

“uhh.. yeah i think so.” sendou answers, scratching the back of his neck. “i think y/n’s coming over.”

there’s confusion washed over the brunette’s features. he’s not sure why this visit is so concerning, you’ve changed your mind before. saying no to movie night yet coming over unannounced anyway.

sendou sighs, “don’t freak out when she gets here.” he’s not an idiot. he’s seen basically every spare glance that oliver’s thrown your way, the schedule modifications to come home more often to see you, the way his smile lingers on you when you do almost anything. he sees the way oliver deflates when you’re with someone else, it’s quick when it happens, almost uncatchable.

“and why would i do that?” he’s joking, but the knot in his stomach is turning. what is it? you’re coming over to tell them all about your great fuckin’ date with rensuke? even after almost sleeping together, you still ran right back to kunigami when he called for you.

sendou rolls his eyes, before repeating himself, “seriously. don’t.”

oliver throws his arms up in surrender, “okay, okay.”

when do you barge in you’re in the same hoodie you wore the night you came undone under oliver’s mouth. the nervous smile on his face falls when he hears you sniffling. when the two of you make eye contact, your puffy red-lines eyes looking into his, he feels something break.

you blink, and then you blink again, as you try to fight back the tears that eagerly wish to spill. instinctively, you tug at the sleeves of your sweater trying to self-soothe yourself. you try to speak multiple times, only to stop and let out little huffs of air. it hurts too much.

sendou speaks first, gently rubbing your back as he guides you over to the couch. “hey… take some deep breaths.” you shake your head, balling your hands into fists as you continue to cry.

“want me to leave?” oliver asks, as much as he doesn’t want to, he knows you’re more comfortable when he’s not around. to both his and sendou’s surprise, you shake your head again, reaching out to him with trembling hands.

he sits closer and you lean down to lay in his lap, “l-let me cry here.” you mumble, grabbing his hand and placing it on the top of your head. “rub my head.”

oliver can’t help but laugh a little bit, “sure.” he nods over to sendou, whose eyes could possibly launch from their sockets. “hey, you heard her, rub her back.”

“pretty sure she said ‘head’” he retorts, but starts doing it anyway. while sendou’s eyes wander the room, sometimes glancing at the remote wondering if he should start the movie back up; oliver’s are glued on you.

he cards through your hair, eyes soft on your hiccuping form. he thinks you feel like his girlfriend, maybe if someone else saw, you’d look like it too. maybe he’ll ask sendou later. it’s a few more moments of your sniffling before you finally speak.

“do you guys think i’m stupid?” you ask, reaching out for the remote and turning whatever movie they had playing on.

“sometimes, yeah,” sendou answers and both you and oliver are quick to smack him. “ow! i thought you wanted the truth? and why the hell are you hitting me?!” he exclaims, one finger pointed towards the brunette.

oliver shrugs, “because you said something stupid?”

“i agree,” you sniffle, but there’s the smallest hint of a smile on your face. “you’re supposed to lie, idiot.”

“if i lie will you tell us what happened?” he asks, leaning back against the armrest.

“don’t even have to lie, i’ll just tell you.” you sigh, lowering the volume down on the tv. you start to tap on oliver’s knee since you’re nervous, but he continues to play with your hair.

“so you know how rensuke and i were… thinking of being something?” you start. you feel oliver’s hand pause when you say that, but he starts back up again. “anyway, he called it off today. he gave me an ultimatum that i didn’t wanna take.”

“which was?” sen asks, brow raised.

“i couldn’t see you two anymore.” you answer, “like i wouldn’t choose my best friends?”

“since when is oliver your best friend?” sendou asks, perplexed.

since she came on my face in my bedroom, he muses, but you answer with a “since i decided.”

“are you guys doing shit behind my back?” the redhead asks and the two of you look at each other.

“no,” you say, face heating up as you stare into pretty dual tone eyes, “we don’t do anything.”

not only is the blush on his face clearly visible, but so is the smirk. “not a thing,” he agrees. “if anything, we just… chill.”

you mouth out an “oliver!” but he shrugs, before using his thumb to wipe at the remnants of tears on your cheek. if you weren’t trying to hide from the current accusations, you’d probably just keen up into his touch.

“i don’t wanna know.” sendou groans, breaking the two of you out of trance. he gets up, turning the tv off and flickering his gaze towards you. “sleeping in my room tonight?”

you swallow, before nodding again, finally tearing your gaze away from oliver. “yeah, i’ll be there in a sec.”

you sit up as sendou leaves, the click of his door indicating when the two of you are alone. you feel vulnerable. you pull your knees up, hugging them, before you start to talk.

“i really liked him, y’know?” you mumble, “but i never really got the same vibe back.”

oliver’s silent, arms crossed and head thrown back as he stares up at the ceiling. he doesn’t particularly care to hear just how much you liked rensuke, but he’s not about to leave now.

you continue, “i think he wanted someone to blow off steam with, which isn’t bad, but… i wanted him to actually like me. like-like me, not just to be thrown away later on. i thought he could be my first real boyfriend.”

“why are you telling me this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral. “wouldn’t you rather tell sen?”

you shake your head, looking back at him slightly. “no, i like talking to you more. about this stuff anyway, you seem to actually listen to me. sen’s not bad, but i dunno, he doesn’t really give me sound advice.”

“what’d he tell you to do last time?” he asks, semi-agreeing already that sendou really isn’t the best advice giver.

“sleep with karasu.” you deadpan, inwardly cringing at how awkward that interaction was.

“and did you?” he asks, voice a little ptiched.

“no! everyone thinks so, but no.” you failed, thankfully, unable to actually go through with it. but you made a friend with tabito, one that listens to your ramblings when you visit.

oliver sits up a little and you snap your head back forward, embarrassment eating at you. “did you two… do anything?” he’s started to realize something.

you shake your head again, hoping he doesn’t notice how feeble you feel. but he can’t notice that because he feels like he’s on cloud nine. “have you slept with anyone?” he asks, heart pounding.

what comes up must always come down and to his dismay, you nod, mumbling out a name that leaves him slaw jacked. “sendou. like, twice…. why am i sharing this information with you?”

“seriously? sendou?” he’s not sure whether this means that his friendship has ended, but it does maybe make some sense that you’re so comfortable around him. beyond best friends, anyway.

you spin around, “listen! it was when we had just graduated high school. we’d never slept with anyone before .. so, seriously, why am i telling you this?!”

he won’t lie, the panicked look on your face is cute, so much so that he’s a little less pissed off. “okay, okay. i get it,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you don’t have to tell me anything else.”

sometimes, you don’t understand how oliver can be so sweet, but you sure are grateful for it. you smile at him and his heart melts a little. it’s so much better when you aren’t crying.

he pats your head before getting up.

“oliver?” you call, but he smiles at you and it’s your turn to feel your heart flutter.

“you should get some sleep,” he says, “it’s late. you want water before you go though?” padding over to the kitchen to fix you a glass of water.

you nod, “mhm.” before getting up yourself and following after him. he hands you the glass and he thinks it’s strange. the first time you stood in this kitchen, you didn’t even look his way. but now, you look at him clearly. sure, it’s not the ideal situation and you are leaving to go sleep in another guy’s bed, but it’s enough.

one step closer to you is worth it. it shouldn’t be long now, he thinks, you’ll be his in due time. but he doesn’t notice the confusion on your face when you grab the glass. the moment your fingers touch you feel it too, that all familiar pull, the one you were trying (and failing) to avoid. you duck away when you move towards sendou’s room, hoping he can’t hear the way your heart pounds within your chest.

it can’t be him.

“that fucking stings!” oliver hisses, instinctively pulling away from you.

you frown, “i don’t know why you went to me and not like, the campus nurse or a hospital.” you recenter his face, gripping his chin between your index finger and thumb.

“why would i go there when i’ve got my guardian angel here?” he teases before wincing again as you press the cloth to his busted lip.

“i’ve got to stop the bleeding,” you mumble, ignoring his comment. oliver thinks you look so cute when concern paints your face, he’d kiss you if you let him, despite his lip. “i still can’t believe you did that.”

“did what?” he asks.

“get your ass beat,” you snort, removing the pressure from his lip before handing him an ice pack. “here.”

“he made you cry, like i wasn’t gonna beat his ass?” he counters, correcting you and if he could pout, he would.

“oliver. that was weeks ago, no one asked you to do something so stupid,” you sigh, swiveling around to look for bandages. “there was no point.”

“no one asked you to date stupid guys,” he retorts, but man does it hurt. more than his lip or his bruised cheek, the fact that no matter what you won’t look at him the same way you do others.

“i just don’t get why you’d do something so dumb.” you say, closing the medicine cabinet while holding a box of band aids. you’re so nonchalant about it it’s infuriating. why don’t you get it?

he blinks, before scoffing, “what am i to you?”

“you’re… oliver.” you say, tensing, suddenly not liking the direction this conversation is going.

“that’s it?” he almost can’t believe it, that after everything, he’s just still oliver.

“what do you want me to say?” you sigh, voice coming out a little irritated. you’ve never done well with confrontation, especially not when it comes to feelings like this.

he sets the ice pack down before continuing, “that i’m important to you, more than just some dude you string along for fun.”

“what are you even talking about?” you exasperate, because really, what does he want? he knows you two aren’t anything, nothing more than friends and yet he tries so hard. so hard it makes your head spin, so hard it makes you sometimes doubt your own judgment on him. but you refuse, you’ll continue to listen to that little voice that tells you: no. not him.

“for fucks sake, can’t you pick me just one time?!” he yells, slamming his hand on the counter and you jump back, “not karasu, not sendou, not fucking kunigami. don’t run to them. run to me. can’t it be me?”

“y-you’re crying,” you deflect, trying to look anywhere but him because if you look at him, you’ll want to hold him. you’ll want to give him, tell him that maybe you two could try to be something. you don’t even argue that kunigami isn’t an option anymore.

“i don’t fucking care.”

“and i don’t know what to say.” you answer, eyes glued on the box in your hands.

“just say the word and i’ll be yours. fully and wholly, i’ll give you everything.” he says firmly.

but you stay quiet, awkwardly fidgeting with the box in your hands.

“…please?” it comes out soft, whispery, and most of all desperate. a plea that comes from deep within because at the end of it all, he loves you.

but there’s nothing from you, it’s radio silence. it’s the quietness after midnight on a tuesday when the rest of campus is deep asleep. it’s nothing. and for a brief moment, he’ll accept it, because it’s harder for him to sit in this continued rejection. he’ll accept that right now, you don’t want him.

he gets up, pushing past you not even bothering to wipe the tears that trail down his cheeks. and he thinks, maybe even a small bit of him prays, that you’ll stop him.

but you don’t, staring at the tiled floor as he leaves, and oliver feels his heart shatter into tiny glass pieces. should he still hold onto “maybe”? maybe someday you’ll want him too? maybe someday you’ll be his exclusively? or should he give up, call it a day, and speed dial one of the girls in his phone?

he doesn’t know.

#oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #oliver aiku x you #oliver aiku x y/n #pibby writing

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stars-tonight · 2 months ago

Note

Hello there 🫶🏻 I love your blog. I saw your post about requests, could I request something cute with Kenma x fem reader please? I'm a shy gamer like him, I'd really love if you could write something about a cute night in together playing video games. Feel free to ignore this request. I hope life is good for you right now. Thank you and bye bye 💕

MERMAID RUGS, GAMER RAMEN (FT. KOZUME KENMA)

synopsis: you and kenma bond over video games, from your first meeting to the confession. shy!reader, pre-timeskip, strangers to friends to lovers, first love, kind of slow burn, reader is fukurōdani’s manager

word count: 4344 (easily the longest fic i've ever written, actually what have i done smh)

being fukurōdani’s manager is fun. you had originally signed up because volleyball looked fun--and as you learn more about the sport, you realize it is fun. it took you a long time to get out of your shell, but the team had been very kind and welcoming to you. they’re like your older brothers--you’re a first year, and it’s nice to be friends with the older seniors.

weekend playdays against other teams in the fukurōdani academy group are the best. nearly every saturday morning, the team hops on a bus and drives to another school, or sometimes fukurōdani is the host school. for two days, the teams in the league play against and train with each other, eating and sleeping near the host school. you don’t usually go anywhere that isn’t school or home, so it’s extra fun being able to travel to different schools. you’ve only done it four times so far, but it’s quickly become one of your favorite parts about managing the team.

this weekend, you’re travelling to nekoma high school for the first time. the nekoma and fukurōdani teams are actually pretty friendly with each other--a friendly rivalry, if you will--but you’ve never talked to anyone from another team. they’re all tall, and scary, and sometimes rowdy. you prefer to keep your distance.

at the end of the first day, bokuto kōtarō’s energy is only about half spent. he nearly always stays behind after regular practices to run some more quicks with akaashi. you sometimes stay to help out; bokuto always asks, and you find it hard to say no to that puppy dog face. but akaashi’s always there for you; if you’re stressed and need to go home, he always somehow knows and makes sure you take care of yourself. you appreciate him more than he could ever know.

today is one of those days where you’re happily staying behind to help. bokuto had been blocked by nekoma’s captain today, and he’s been sulking ever since, determined to practice his hits until he’s certain that nobody can block them.

it’s almost an hour after training officially ended when bokuto finally stops his relentless practice. he and akaashi are both drenched in sweat. “food break!” bokuto declares. “then more practice.”

more practice? it’s nearly nine p.m., you think to yourself in disbelief. akaashi echoes your thoughts: “bokuto-san, we should go back and rest now,” he says calmly. “besides, if you eat and then come back to exercise, you’ll get an upset stomach.”

“but i’m hungry,” bokuto whines. “and i want onigiri.”

akaashi sighs. his eyes meet yours, and a mutual understanding passes between you.

at the start of the camp this morning, someone had said there would be snacks available in the sports director’s office, which isn’t far from the primary gymnasium. you manage to find your way there, but you stop short when you realize someone else is in the room. it’s the tall middle blocker from nekoma. the captain. the one who blocked bokuto today. he often stays for extra practices with bokuto and akaashi; you had been wondering why he wasn’t here today. kuroo, you think his name is.

he looks at you and grins. “hey, [y/n]-chan,” he says cheerfully. “come for a late night snack too?”

you don’t know how to answer. you nod shortly, then spot the small refrigerator, opening it and taking an onigiri out of the package. “is that for you?” kuroo asks curiously.

“no, it’s for bokuto-san,” you say quietly.

his eyes widen a little, and then his mouth opens and he laughs loudly. “so you do talk! i owe kenma that thousand yen now. you were so quiet, i thought you didn’t know how to talk.”

you fight back a sigh, unsurprised that kozume kenma, the quiet yet observant setter for nekoma, was the one who had bet on you being able to talk. “i can talk. and i thought you usually do extra practice with bokuto-san and akaashi-san.”

he chuckles. “yeah, but kenma had a chemistry project he needed help on. technically it was due yesterday, so i deemed him to be in desperate need of help. he’s a little hungry now--the little pudding head--so i came to get food.”

due yesterday! you can’t even fathom the idea of turning in assignment late. you’d stay up all night if it meant getting homework done.

you suddenly realize that kuroo is saying something else to you: “i’ll bet that owl-face is mad i blocked him today. you can go back and tell him i’ll do it again tomorrow. in fact, i’ll do it twice tomorrow.”

you almost laugh at this stupid rivalry between friends. “i will. good night, kuroo-san. don’t sleep too late.”

sunday morning passes normally. by noon, you’re starving. lunchtimes are the quietest, and it’s always been this way. players from different schools sit together at benches and on the grassy hills. the managers have their own table, but you don’t know any of them well enough to go ask if you can sit with them. after casting a doubtful glance over at the tables, you take your food and quietly go to sit on a hill, the same as you always do. you’re not upset by it or anything; your level of calm and quiet can be restrictive and unapproachable for some, and you understand this perfectly. you’re content to eat alone.

but then you’re not alone anymore. someone sits down next to you. you spare a sideways glance to see that it’s kozume, his nose buried in his gaming console, which you recognize as a nintendo 3ds. you sit in silence for several minutes before kozume speaks: “thanks.”

hm? you blink and turn to quickly look at him. “for what?”

“i’m a thousand yen richer now because of you.”

“oh.” you let out a small chuckle as you remember kuroo delighting over the fact that you can talk. you look at his console curiously. “do you really like video games? which one’s your favorite?” you love a good video game, although barely anyone knows this.

he hesitates, before nodding, not looking at you. “i like this one. it’s called animal crossing.” he tilts the console a little so you can see. on screen, a little cartoon human is walking around what looks to be a beach.

you nod, recognizing the name: animal crossing is extremely popular, but you’d never played it before. you silently watch as kozume’s character walks around on screen, picking up various items like seashells. he notices you watching and speaks hesitantly. “do you . . . do you want to try?”

your eyes widen. “uh. . .” you shift a little closer to him, hugging your knees to your chest shyly. “sure. . .”

he hands the console over to you, which is surprising. you put your pointer finger on the direction pad and press on it, unsure how to play the game.

kozume lets out a sound that appears to you like a breathy chuckle. “here.” he leans closer too, your heads almost brushing, and helps you move the character around the screen. you lean in, eyes wide, as you take in every animated object on screen. the rave about animal crossing isn’t for nothing, you think. this game looks awesome. you watch as kozume’s character picks up a seashell. you hand the console back to kozume, letting out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

“thanks,” you say softly, mildly relieved you didn’t die and ruin his game. “looks fun.”

he nods. “i can show you how to set up your own game, if you have your own ds console.”

“i do,” you admit. you had brought it with you, in fact. “i have it in my bag.”

the corners of his lips tug up into what can only be described as a smile. “we don’t have time this weekend, but i can show you how to play next time. there’s supposed to be a new version coming out in november.”

you nod, another question piquing at your thoughts. “why. . .” you trail off, but kozume silently waits for you to continue, so you do. “why did you come over here? you usually don’t talk to anyone besides kuroo-san.”

he shrugs, then is quiet for a long time. you’re starting to think that a shrug is all the answer you’re going to get, but then he speaks, so quietly you have to strain to hear. “kuroo said i should. he said we were very similar.”

similar? you frown to yourself, tilting your head as you pondered. oh.

kuroo had been looking out for his friend. kozume couldn’t have much of a social life, you figure, although it doesn’t even appear like he wants one. but he’s going to have to talk to people sooner or later, and the former seems to be the case here as kuroo approaches graduation. and kuroo knew how quiet you are. maybe he’s also trying to help you out by sending you someone you’d hopefully connect with. you suddenly feel a new wave of respect for the nekoma captain. at least he meant well.

still, kozume’s response doesn’t give you the best peace of mind. “you didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to. if you want to focus on your game, i won’t bother you anymore.”

“i didn’t say that. i don’t do anything i don’t want to. besides. . .”

his gaze shifts to you, golden eyes studying you for a few seconds before turning back to his game. “you’re nice.”

the next time you have a weekend training camp with the other teams in the fukurōdani academy group, you bring your gaming console. you hadn’t stopped thinking about kozume since last time, and you hoped he still remembered--and was planning on upholding--his promise about showing you how to play animal crossing. sure, you could always teach yourself, but you wanted an excuse to talk to kozume again. he had been really nice and easy to talk to.

luckily for you, he seemed to remember his promise too. at lunch on saturday, he takes the initiative to sit next to you on the hills again, although not before a lot of hesitation and a timid “can i sit here?”

he first shows you how to set up your character. the game is easy enough to pick up, and halfway through his demonstration kozume seems to realize that you know a lot about video games--he actually looks you in the eye and gives you a little smile here. “seems fun,” you say, as he wraps up his little demonstration speech.

“it is,” he says. “there’s no clear objective, it’s just a lot of playing and collecting items. you use those items to craft furniture. i don’t actually like most of the pieces, but i collect all of them to get complete sets. and the villagers will need certain items to be crafted before you can invite them to your village.”

you lean closer as he scrolls through his furniture collection. “that’s pretty,” you say as your gaze catches on a specific item. you point at it to show him.

kozume stops his scrolling. “the mermaid rug?” he tilts his head. “yeah, i guess so. it’s part of the mermaid series.”

“does it take a lot of items to craft furniture?”

“depends. bigger pieces take more items. the rug cost a few sand dollars and a pearl, along with the standard bells. the sand dollars are easy to find, but the pearl is a bit rarer. and some series are only available during certain times or seasons--i think the season for the mermaid series if over. depending on the item, the time it takes to craft will also be different.”

oh. that’s okay. you’re fine with being patient, you do it enough with some of the other games you play. “here, add me,” kozume says. “i can send you stuff this way. and little notes.”

so you do. and just like that, kozume becomes your first friend on animal crossing, and your best friend in real life.

“that was cold, kenma!” you laugh as the two of you share a high five. “lying to that person and luring them out into a trap? i never realized you were so strategic.”

he shrugs, but you can see a little smirk tugging at his lips. “that player was too trusting. that makes them an easy target.”

you shake your head. you are, in no way, bad at video games. but you have a lot to learn from kenma. “you’re so different when you’re playing games,” you say. “you’d never be this bold in real life.”

he thinks about it for a few seconds, then shrugs. “i guess so. have you made that mermaid rug yet?”

“mermaid rug?” you frown at his abrupt subject change, before realizing what he’s talking about. “oh. no. i don’t think they’re bringing that series back, i looked it up online.”

“oh.” he frowns a little. “i’m sorry.”

“no, that’s okay.” you smile a little, though you’re secretly actually really disappointed that you can’t have the mermaid rug. “anyway, how do you do it?” you ask curiously. “i always feel bad hurting others when i play games.”

he shrugs. “the objective of the game is to win, right?” he says. “that means it’s every player for themself. if you want to win, you can’t be hung up on making friends through the game. you’ll never meet these people in real life, you’ll probably never play with them again. it’s easy enough to do. sometimes it just takes some guts. a lot of things in life take guts.”

you look at him admiringly. “are you talking about volleyball?” you tease.

he scowls. “no.”

“no tears, kenma? not even a little?” kuroo pretends to cry. “your best friend is leaving you and you can’t even be bothered to cry?”

kenma stares at him, a deadpan expression in his eyes. “i don’t cry,” he says flatly. he’s still clutching his console tightly in one hand, however, and there’s a tightness in his face that tells you he’s as close to crying as he ever will be.

kuroo sighs. “take care of him for me, [y/n],” he says to you. “make sure he stays on top of his studies. don’t stay up all night playing video games with him again--don’t think i don’t know you guys do that. make sure he eats, drinks enough water, doesn’t slack off at practice--”

“i know, kuroo-san,” you say. “don’t worry. i’ll keep kenma alive and functioning.”

kenma scowls a little at the two of you. “i can take care of myself, you know.”

“yeah, yeah, of course you can. but it makes your captain feel a lot better knowing you have [y/n].” kuroo winks at the two of you--why can you feel your face heating up?--and stands up straight, looking handsome and put-together in his traditional japanese hakama.

you smile up at kuroo. “thanks for everything, kuroo-san.” it had been him who introduced you to your best friend, and he himself had helped you a lot with your studies as well. he was a really good guy. you were going to miss him, just like you knew kenma would.

kuroo smiles proudly at you. “same to you, [y/n]. go conquer the world for me, all right? even better if you can drag this pudding head around with you while you do it.”

“do you want water? food?” is the first thing kenma asks when you arrive at his house.

“no, thank you,” you say. “i got food on the way here.”

he frowns a little. “you can eat here, you know,” he says. “you don’t have to spend money on food.”

“i wouldn’t want to burden you.” you follow kenma as he leads you to his room. you often took the train over to kenma’s house after school and your respective practices ended. you would study together, even though kenma is a grade above you. the two of you more often ended up playing video games together anyway.

“it’s not a burden. my parents are happy enough that i have a friend i’m willing to have over. how far are you in animal crossing now?” kenma asks curiously as you set your bag down. “did you get my gift?”

he had sent you another gift yesterday. you’re his only friend on animal crossing--you checked--and you often sent gifts back and forth to each other. “yeah,” you say. you don’t play animal crossing as often as your other games, but you open it on occasion to interact with kenma.

“what game do you want to play today?” kenma opens his fridge--you’re still shocked, though not surprised that he has a mini fridge in his room for energy drinks--and pulls out his favorite caffeinated drink.

you shake your head. “kenma, you gotta stop drinking so much caffeine. it’s not good for you. and you should be doing your homework. i know you have a calculus exam tomorrow. have you even started studying?”

he stares at you. “who are you and what have you done with [y/n]?” he asks. “who are you to lecture me on studying?”

“i’m done with my work, kenma,” you say. “and i’m not the one who’s failing two classes.”

he scowls a little. “did you come here just to lecture me about school? because you can leave if that’s the case.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples. “i care about you, kenma,” you say.

he freezes. “what?”

“what?” you crease your eyebrows, looking up at him and realizing with a start that his face is tinted pink. “did i say something?”

he looks down. “no,” he mutters. “let’s just get started. i’ll do my work, okay? will that make you happy?”

you sigh again. “yes, kenma. that’d make me happy.”

he takes out his workbook, a little pout on his face--you don’t think he realizes it’s there, but it’s adorable regardless. “there are caffeinated ramen noodles now,” he says suddenly. “especially for gamers. it’s going really viral.”

“don’t even think about it, kenma.”

you don’t know why you’re so distraught.

it’s the end of another school year, meaning another graduation, meaning another one of your friends gone. but this time, it’s different.

kenma looks almost cute in his hakama. wait, what? you blink hard, shaking your head to rid yourself of the thought. kenma’s your best friend, and only your best friend.

“are you crying?” kenma stares at you, a little frown on his face. “what’s there to cry about?”

“i’m not crying, kenma!” you protest, furiously wiping away your tears.

he sighs, stepping forward and brushing your tears away with his fingers. “don’t cry, [y/n]. you have my phone number. i’m not going anywhere far or fancy for university. i’ll still send you stuff on animal crossing. we’ll play video games every night if it makes you happy.”

you shake your head, sniffling a bit. “what will you do in uni?” you ask. “how will you make any friends? you’ll be so sad and alone.”

he lowers his gaze, and it’s only when you see his shoulders shaking that you realize he’s laughing. it’s a quiet laugh, but you cherish the sound regardless. this must be what an angel’s laugh sounds like, you think to yourself.

“enough of that, [y/n],” he says gently, patting your head. “i’m not completely useless. i’ll join a video games club or something.”

“you’re such a liar!” you complain. “don’t laugh at me. i’m worried about you.”

he sobers up, stepping closer and taking your hands in his. “don’t worry,” he says softly. “i’ll be fine. you take care of yourself too, okay? drink water. eat food. don’t stay up all night playing video games.”

his hands are soft and cool. “you sound just like kuroo-san,” you say, sniffling. “but it’s stupider when you say it. don’t think i don’t know you’re going to buy those gamer ramen noodles as soon as i don’t have my eyes on you.”

he rolls his eyes. “they’re good, [y/n],” he says defensively. “and they actually work.”

“kenma! you tried them?”

he sighs, dropping your hands. “. . . i tried them.”

“kenma!”

“okay, okay.” he gives you a sarcastic little salute. “i won’t do it again. promise. will you stop crying?”

you blow your nose into a handkerchief that he hands you. “take care of yourself at university, kenma,” you say, your voice shaking a little. “i’ll miss you.”

he brushes some hair out of your face, a gentle smile on his own. “i’ll miss you too.”

and that was the moment you realized that you are hopelessly in love with kozume kenma.

you feel so lonely.

you’ve spent so much time with kenma the last two years that you hardly realized you didn’t make any other friends. and now that kenma’s gone, you’re alone. you talk everyday through text, sure, and you play video games for hours into the night. but it’s not the same as being with kenma.

it’s been almost two months since the start of your third year. you should be focusing on your studies. and you are; your grades have never slipped. but it’s been getting harder and harder to focus when all you can think about is how much you miss kenma.

you’ve never stopped loving him. you don’t think you ever will stop loving him. you miss him so much it hurts. but you could never tell him this. kenma has never given anyone a second look. he’s never liked anyone. and why would he like you, anyway? you’re great friends. that’s all you could ask for. but you still feel so lonely.

your phone buzzes. you let out a tired groan, rolling over on your bed. fumbling, you grasp your phone and check the message.

when’s the last time you played ac? i’m back from uni on break and just realized. you usually send me gifts back, but i’ve sent you fifteen this past month and nothing’s happened. are you okay?

kenma’s back! your face subconsciously breaks out into a huge smile. you’d have to go over to his house in the next couple of days to say hi. then you read his message again.

animal crossing! your eyes widen. it’s true, you haven’t played in a while. every time you open up the game, you can only remember those nights in the past when you and kenma stayed up for hours playing with each other. it hurt, so you eventually just stopped playing.

yeah, sorry, you text back. just been busy.

kenma responds quickly. you should check your mailbox. items will disappear if you don’t accept them in time.

so for the first time in nearly a month, you open up animal crossing. immediately, you’re flooded with notifications. you collect all the items in your mailbox, send kenma some gifts in return, and then you notice there’s a new item in your post office. a few clicks later, a note pops up, and an item is included with it.

it’s a mermaid rug. your eyes widen as you gasp softly. you only have one friend in the game, so there’s only one person this note could have been from. but why would kenma gift you the mermaid rug? he knows you love it, but why now decide to give it to you?

you look at the note. what you read sends you reeling, your heart skipping a beat as you nearly drop the phone.

it’s only six words, but those six words will change your life forever.

[y/n], i like you so much.

kenma’s house is only about a thirty minute subway ride from yours. you’ve been to his house so many times you could walk the route in your sleep. you practically run through the subway station and launch yourself onto the train. your leg jiggles impatiently as you count the stops: three left. then two. then one.

you burst through the subway doors, tearing through the station and up the stairs into the streets. your feet carry you all the way to kenma’s house. your heart is racing, your face flushed and your hands starting to sweat as you reach the familiar, charming little house. you hesitate at the front door.

“sometimes it just takes some guts. a lot of things in life take guts.”

the sound of you knocking on the door has barely faded away when kenma opens it. his eyes widen when he sees you standing at his front door. “[y/n]?” he asks, a rare emotion in his voice. “what are you doing here?”

his face is pink. your heart races as your mouth opens, then close again.

“[y/n]?” his eyebrows crease a little in concern. “are you okay?”

now or never. you take a deep breath. “i like you too,” you blurt out.

he blinks, frozen. you bite your lip nervously, shifting your weight from foot to foot. the seconds tick by, and you feel your face heating up.

he smiles a little at you, leans forward, and gently presses his lips to your cheek. it’s fleeting--you can sense he gets nervous halfway through and pulls away.

“i’m glad,” he says gently, taking your hand in his. “come in? we can play some games like we used to. unless you’re too busy studying to play games now.”

you shake your head, a grin spreading across your face. you lace your fingers through kenma’s and squeeze his hand. “i’m never too busy for a video game.”

“good.” he smiles at you. “i’ve been trying the new flavors of gamer ramen that have been coming out. the original are still the best, but the seafood one is good too. a bit heavy on the caffeine, but--”

he breaks off as he notices you staring at him. “what?”

“kenma!” you frown. “you’ve been eating gamer ramen noodles!”

he chuckles a little, ducking his head sheepishly. “is this a bad time to admit that i’ve been having them with energy drinks?”

“kenma!”

A/N: hi anon! i only have the mobile version of animal crossing so i might have some inaccuracies in gameplay. but anyway i did work really hard on this and i hope you like it and it does well! i know it isn't exactly what you requested but i lowkey got carried away lol

lightly inspired by @kageyamatobiyogurt

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq kenma #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma #haikyuu x you #kenma x you #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu fic #hq fluff #haikyu fic #haikyu fluff #juliana's favs 🫶

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patron-saints · 2 months ago

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the official beginner's guide to olizumi

so! you're a fan of fma or maybe a friend of mine, and you're interested in learning more about the relationship between olivier mira armstrong and izumi curtis! great, you've come to exactly the right place.

if it's been a while since you've seen fma:b, or if you've never seen it and don't mind watching some scenes from the final arc, i recommend getting started with my compilation:

youtube

(original video post here)

when i first watched fma:b back in march 2023, i thought i would manage to watch the entire thing without getting obsessed with a wlw ship. i was wrong. the second these two started interacting i immediately became enamored with the trust, respect, and intimacy that they share, and with the way they seemed to find in each other the same steely spirit, grit, and inner sense of self. their ability to communicate their philosophies, despite their differences, and listen to each other with ease and tenderness just. GOT ME. they got me.

get ready for SO MUCH MORE under the cut:

(i was lucky enough to have a chance to draw up a little list of most of my headcanons about them, which can be found here! the most important of which i'd say are that i write them as t4t, and olivier as a stone top!)

if you're convinced of their chemistry just from that, great, my job here is done! but if you don't believe me yet, or you want a little more, it would be my honor to point you in the direction of the first ever fic i wrote for them, "recognition." (tumblr post for chapter 1 here!)

"recognition" can best be described as a 4 chapter old woman yaoi where (almost) nothing happens and two milves fall in love. or if you like, sorry izumi, two very young women navigate the beginnings of a long distance relationship, polyamory, workaholism, and chronic illness. it is sickeningly fluffy, and to date the longest thing i've ever published.

it even comes with an illustration! @wlwsakura did THIS for me:

(original post here) which i will never be over not in one million years!

AND it also comes with a whole entire soundtrack, made by myself and my dearest friend @summerwoodsmoke! kinda a folksy gentle, very sappy vibe. i still listen to it all the time! alex picked some bangers tbh.

for the very first @fma-rareships event, i wrote two little ficlets set in the world of "recognition," which are here and here!

if you're keeping track so far, that's a compilation, a headcanon list, a fic(+ficlets), a commission, and a playlist. but wait, there's more!

so, okay, maybe 23k is too long for you. or maybe fluff isn't your thing. or maybe, somehow, you've made it through all that and you want more. not to worry. i have more.

just this week, i posted "bone deep" (tumblr post here), which is a 5k E rated omegaverse fic that's kind of like recognition on fastforward and if i didn't cut out the sex scenes. and if it was omegaverse. it's the first omega thing i've ever written, but i really wanted a chance to write more in depth about how i see olivier's stone identity, and weirdly this setting gave me the chance to do that!

and now we've covered everything i've made for them...so far. but i want to give a shout out to some others in the rarepairs mines with me, because i'm not the only one who care them!

@machinerismsx's fic "An Open Invitation" is genuinely incredible. it's hilariously funny (there's lines in there i still think about and giggle), and also like. super hot. we didn't know anything about each other's fic projects til after i posted "recognition," but we were stunned to realize we'd written a lot of the exact same plot points, including what i refer to as The Curtis-Armstrong Alliance.

you may have noticed that in my compilation, sig and alex also had like, off the charts chemistry. m and i noticed that too! so in both of our fics, while sig and izumi are still married, they are also each get an armstrong all to themselves, lol.

which brings me to @eggos-esper! my brother-in-arms who is out here as the reigning champ of sigalex! (& you can read the sigalex fic i wrote for him on ao3 here ((or see the tumblr post here!)))

but maybe you're nostalgic for youth. or you like epistolary fics. or maybe you, like me, are deeply obsessed with the miniep "tale of the teacher." if that's you, PLEASE PLEASE check out @baudleaires's fic "Notes from Briggs" it is the cutest thing on planet earth and it had me kicking and squealing the entire time.

maybe you want more art! there's more art!

@iztopher did this one for my birthday and it made me actually scream and then weep:

and @wlwsakura's first piece of them is what made me commission her in the first place:

it's still the photo for one of the groupchats i'm in. it rules.

also, while they're not on tumblr atm, i could not bear to make this list without acknowledging @chillingoose, who is one of my dearest friends and who has come up with some truly stunning things for olizumi as well.

and! and! also @littlebear1537! who loves briggs more than anyone else in the universe!

if i managed to miss anything, my olizumi tag is here! there's not a ton in it at the moment, but there are some jokes, like this one by @heavenlyshadowhunter:

i would LOVE to add more to that tag by any means possible, so if you make anything for olizumi, PLEASE tag me in it! i am also going to work on setting up @olizumi as more of a proper archive too! (edit: i did it! it’s a real blog now!)

thank you so much for reading this incredibly long post, and for giving my girls a chance! <3!

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fmab #olivier mira armstrong #izumi curtis #major general olivier mira armstrong #sig curtis #alex louis armstrong #major alex louis armstrong #WOOF !!#long post #please please talk to me about them! it's olizumi autumn!!!!#olizumi #<3

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hongcherry · 1 year ago

Text

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you.

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here.

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to.

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you.

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic.

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving.

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started.

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker.

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts.

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over.

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad.

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface.

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

“Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct.

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains.

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him.

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something.

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you’re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories.

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled.

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name.

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather.

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear.

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours.

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit.

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head.

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse.

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks.

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them.

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed.

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising.

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before.

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you.

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible.

You waste no time careening for the exit.

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of.

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you.

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

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weasleytwinwheezes · 2 years ago

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the night we met |tsu'tey x reader|

what: after spending her growing years pining after the future Olo'eyktan, y/n tearfully recounts the moving moments throughout their ‘friendship’ as she hears of his promising to Sylwanin

warnings: all the angst- sorry besties, not canon compliant (kinda?),

words: 2k

what have you: heyo this is my first avatar fic and first actual written fic in quite some time! so if you like it please let me know! Thinking of doing a part two (possibly in his pov?)- let me know if you’re interested in that! thanks for reading :)

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

Life with Tsu’tey by your side was nothing short of a dream. He was your longest friend and closest companion. It seemed as though from the moment you could walk, the two of you were joined at the hip. Always together, never far apart. This carried on well into your growing years, both of you nearing adulthood side by side.

You weren’t sure when you started to notice Tsu’tey becoming a man before your very eyes. His shoulders broadened and he seemed to grow a foot overnight. The clan started to come to him for problems instead of his father and he solved them with a grace foreign to you. Tsu’tey was no longer that awkward boy you once knew, he was officially the future Olo'eyktan. Eytukan had chosen him officially before Eywa and the people. Soon enough he was off training in the ways of leading the clan.

This didn’t keep him from visiting you. He always held true to his promises of hunting with you or simply sitting aloft a tree talking well into the night. Tsu’tey always had time for you and you for him. You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment you started to fall for him, but you fell hard. The two of you would often speak candidly of your futures and on more than one occasion he had insisted that you would still be just as important as you were now. Those words lit a spark of hope in your heart that he would one day choose you as a mate. Although the odds were stacked against you from the start, the promise in his words kept you praying to Eywa that he would choose you.

You heard the hunters before you saw them, screeching ikrans landing loudly in front of Hometree. As you watched Tsu’tey dismount his beautiful banshee with ease, celebrating with his fellow clan members. Celebrating the success of making it through his Dream Hunt. The beating of your heart increased as you watched your childhood friend. His proud smile radiating from across the camp

“If you stare any harder Y/N you’re going to set him on fire,” a voice startled you from behind. Slowly turning from your ‘hiding spot’, you came face to face with Arvok and his teasing smirk.

“Oh shove off you skxawng! Leave me be for once!” you hissed.

“Now is that how to address the brother of your best friend I’m wounded Y/N,” Arvok dramatically spoke, clutching his heart in faux hurt.

“Grow up, you child! I am just watching them all return, not just him,” you defended meekly, hearing the lie as clearly as you spoke it.

“Ah, of course. May I tell Tsu’tey you are watching his hunters closely then? Maybe you are looking to mate with one of them?” he teased, before quickly stepping away when your tail smacked his leg.

Rolling your eyes at the young na’vi, you pushed yourself off the tree that was previously hiding your form. Trust Arvok to catch you spying on his brother. A slight blush began to rise to your cheeks as you hurried out from the treeline. Walking towards the center of the clan, you heard talk of a celebration coming that evening. As you got closer to the fire, and to Tsu’tey, the former Olo'eyktan Eytukan called for everyone to join him.

“My people! The time has come! Our Tsu’tey has passed his last rights, he is now one of the people, tonight we will celebrate!” he praised. The air was filled with shouts and cheering as the clan took in their future leader. The clan was proud of the man Tsu’tey had become, a fierce warrior and kind friend.

Where you stood at the back of the pack you could hear a group of younger na’vi girls giggling while casting sly looks at Tsu’tey. Faintly you overhead one, Aythi asked, “Maybe he will choose a mate this night? Do you think he will mate with the future tsahìk? Sylwanin is quite lovely.”

Your heart ached as you watched the group nod in agreement at the possible pairing. This was always the way. The Olo’eyktan mated with the Tsahik, but you held onto those promising words Tsu’tey had spoken moons ago. You would always be in his future. Slowly a kernel of doubt weaseled into your heart, what if he only meant that you would be there as you were there now? What if he only intended to keep you as his friend and nothing more? Rationally this was always a possibility but you thought you had more time before you had to think about it.

Before you could sink further into your darkening thoughts, two strong hands clutched your shoulders and quickly spun you around. Plastering a smile on your face, you were graced with the golden eyes of your closest friend. Grabbing you by your waist, you soon found yourself being spun into a tight hug. A sincere laugh tumbling out of your mouth as you looked down at Tsu’teys happy smile.

“I did it, Ma’Y/N! I survived my dream hunt! All thanks to your guidance,” he cheered happily, oblivious to how your heart stuttered in your chest.

Ma’Y/N. Ma’Y/N. Ma’Y/N.

He had never let that slip from his lips. Not in the 18 years you had known him, always careful with his words and how he addressed you. But you couldn’t stop the hope that squeezed your heart tightly.

Pulling from his embrace, you fell into step with him as he talked quickly of his experience.

“It was amazing! The glow warm tasted odd but after I felt like I was floating on air. I could not tell where I ended and Eywa started. It was surreal, Y/N. I can not wait for you to experience it!” he spoke enthusiastically, hands waving to accentuate his point.

“I’m so happy for you ‘Tey! For you are now our fiercest warrior and we will celebrate that at eclipse! You are one step closer to your bright future my friend,” you responding happily.

The conversation flowed easily as the two of you discussed the coming events and soon enough you were at your families section of hammocks. After a brief goodbye, you waved gently to Tsu’tey as you headed towards the vines that served as an entrance to your home. Just as you reached the greenery, a voice called to you, “Wear the dark blue beaded top for me? It is my favorite on you Ma’Y/N.”

The answering smile you sent him almost spilled your feelings to you. Glee spread throughout your body and you were all too eager to appease his wishes. He had never been one to compliment anything about you, besides your hunting skills and finding out he had a favorite item of yours? That was almost too much for your delicate heart to handle.

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

You were never one to fret about your appearance, but something urged you to look your best tonight. For all you knew it could be the start of your future, so you took your time in getting ready. The taut braids that normally fell along your shoulders were undone, leaving your hair falling in soft waves along your back. You also took great care in arranging the dark blue beaded top, being extra mindful that it fell across your chest in the most tasteful way. By the time you had arrived at the celebration that evening it was in full swing. The fire was raging and the delicious smell of today's kill blanketed the area. You knew you hadn’t missed anything important when you scanned the area and noted that Tsu’tey was not yet there.

Walking towards the fire, you watched as mated couples danced together to the loud music of the drums. The longing look in your eyes is noticeable by anyone who actually cared to look. Luckily for you, no one usually spared you much of a glance. Quickly eating a bowl of meat, the crowd hushed. Following the clans line of sight, your breath catching in your chest.

There he was, in all of his magnificent beauty. Tsu’tey stood tall and proud as he walked towards the clan, head held high. With bright yellow and navy paint marking his body, he looked confident as he walked towards his fate, his future. Studying the markings, your heart beating faster as you took in the color that matched the top he requested.

Surely this was a sign that he was going to choose you, this must be a sign from Eywa that you two would be mated. Why else would he ask you to match him? He is allowed to choose his colors and he picks the color of your beads. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you pushed yourself closer to the base of Hometree eagerly. You wanted to be the first to grab him once he had been announced.

You watched him walk up the thickest root before taking his place beside Eytukan and Mo’at. He looked the picture of the perfect warrior, the perfect Olo’eyktan. The clan quieted down as Eytukan cleared his throat while approaching the crowd.

“My friends, let us gather this eve to celebrate the fierce warrior Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan. As he has completed his final rite of passage, the Dream Hunt. You are Omaticaya now. You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree. You have shown great courage and strength to our people. It is decided that our future Olo’eyktan will be mated with my Sylwanin, our future Tsahik. Before Eywa they will be chosen as our clan's future! Let us celebrate for both occasions this eve!” he bellows, chants erupting from the crowd.

Shouts of happiness and congrats emerge from the clan behind you. But you find yourself rooted to the spot and as you find Tsu’teys eyes, it feels as though Eywa herself is rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you expected his face to show, but happiness wasn’t it. The despair in your heart as Sylwanin grabs his hand is almost too much to bear. The action that finally cleaves your heart in two, is when you notice the colors of her beaded top- yellow and navy. She was marked as his before you ever even knew.

Tears gathered along your waterline as you pushed yourself through the crowd. As you neared the forest edge, you were almost sure someone called your name but the ache in your heart wouldn’t allow you to turn around. Deep down you knew who it was and you knew if you faced him right now it would utterly ruin you.

As you laid in your hammock with the distant sound of music, you allowed the tears to fall freely. It was almost as if you could audibly feel your heart breaking in half. The one you loved was promised to another, promised to the one clan member who he should belong to. You knew now that you would have no place in his future, promised words no longer held meaning here. At least not in the way you believed they would. No, you would live your future with no more than passing hellos and seeing his family grow. You’ll spend your days as a ghost of his past.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

#avatar 2009 #tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey avatar #tsutey #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey angst #avatar angst #jake sully avatar #neytiri #sylwanin #ikran #avatar twow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2022 #jake sully smut #avatar smut #james cameron avatar #avatar flight of passage #eywa

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cuttergauthier · 1 year ago

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Hate Me First, Love Me Later

Josh Norris x Female Tkachuk Reader

Warning: against, Swear words, wedding, Alcohol, fluff

Flashbacks is in Italic

word count:6.3k

Authors note: This is the longest Fic i've ever written, it' an enemies to lovers fic with Josh. This Fic has time jumps. Also let me know if you want me to make this an au🤍

This Insta Edit coming out that follows this fic.

let me know what you guys think🤍

Summer 2018

It is currently summer, and I am at home in St. Louis with my family. Hockey season is officially over which means both my brothers are home. I am currently in my room sitting on my bed and I have both University letters that I applied for in front of me right now, I'm scared to open them.

My dream school has always been Ottawa but it’s hard to get accepted. My second choice is Michigan since the Norris family lives pretty close to Ann Arbor. The only thing that sucks is that Josh will be a Sophomore at Michigan and we do not get along.

We’ve known each other since we were kids, Brady and Josh played in the Untdp together which is when we met, our parents became good friends. Dalton has always been like an older brother to me. Josh on the other hand has always been mean to me, whether it was insulting me, or pulling my hair when we were 12 years old or making fun of me in front of my friends and it never got better. I thought back to the first time I met Josh.

Flashback

We are 15 years old, it is my first time spending the summer at the Hughes Lake house along with my family and Josh’s family.

We just got to the Lake house when Ellen and Traci came outside with Josh.

“Josh this is Yn, she is Brady's younger sister and she's going to be spending the summer with us.” Traci told Josh. Josh made a disgusting look when he looked at me and then back at his mother.

“I don’t want to be friends with her” he told his mom before going back inside the house. I looked at my mom with a sad look. Her, Traci and Ellen gave me a sad smile.

“I’m sorry Yn, he’s not usually like this, it’ll get better I promise '' Traci reassured me.

I nodded.

End of flashback

It never got better, it only got worse.

I snapped out of it when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I said. Matthew poked his head in the room smiling, but it soon disappeared when he saw the nervous look on my face. He came in and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the bed and sat in front of me.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

I sighed and shocked my head before pointing and both letters that are next to him. He looked and his eyes widened.

“When did they come in?” He asked, looking back at me.

“This morning, mom gave them to me. I told her I wanted to open them alone before telling everyone but I'm scared” I told him.

He smiled softly at me before picking them up and giving them to me.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked.

“Would you?”

“Of course, now open them so I know which shirt I’ll need to buy to support you” he said smiling. I chuckled before putting the Michigan letter down and opening my Ottawa letter.

I took a deep breath before smiling and reading the letter. My smile soon disappeared when I learned I am on the waitlist.

“What does it say?” Matthew asked worriedly.

I brushed off tears that were threatening to fall. I shock my head.

“Waitlisted” I said sadly.

“Yn, it’s going to be okay, even if you don’t start there, you might be able to go after your first year,” he said. I nodded. I knew all of that, I just wish I could have been accepted immediately.

I grabbed the Michigan letter and opened it. I read it, and I got accepted. Matthew raised his eyebrows in question. I nodded my head. Matt leaned forward to pull me in a hug.

“I’m proud of you no matter what, and in Michigan you’ll have Josh and Quinn,” he said, trying to encourage me. I scoffed, pulling away from the hug and giving him a ‘are you for real’ look.

Matthew laughed.

“Look, maybe this will get you and Josh to be friends,” he said hopefully.

“I doubt it Matt, please don’t tell any of them i’m going there” I said. He nodded.

“I won’t but Brady might tell Quinn who might tell Josh, and we all know that mom and dad will tell Dwayne and Traci” he said, making me groan.

“Come on, let’s go tell everyone the news” he said, taking my hand and pulling me downstairs where everyone was.

“Yn has something she wants to share with everyone” he said smiling.

“Did you open the letters?” Mom asked. Brady’s eyes widened.

“Oh where are you going?” Brady asked excitedly, I know he was hopping I was going to Ottawa with him.

“Michigan… I got waitlisted for Ottawa, but i’ll try again next year” I said hopeful.

Everyone smiled and came to give me a hug and congratulated me.

“As much as i wish you would be joining me in Ottawa, you won’t be alone in Michigan, Wait till I tell Quinn and Josh about this,” Brady said happily. My eyes widened, I shook my head.

“Please don’t, Josh and I don’t get along. If you tell Quinn please tell him not to tell Josh. I don't want him knowing I'll be there” I asked.

My mom looked at me sadly.

“Can we at least tell Dwayne and Traci, same with Jim and Ellen? If there’s ever anything and your dad and I can’t be there we know that one of them will be.” My mom asked.

I nodded.

“Can you just please ask them if they don’t tell Josh?” I asked

“I will sweetheart, I’m incredibly proud of you, all my kids are now grown ups” she said smiling softly, with tears in her eyes.

“Don’t worry mom, Matthew still acts like a kid” Brady said, making everyone laugh.

First week, Michigan 2018

I’ve been getting settled in Michigan for the past week. My parents went back to St. Louis yesterday. I’m in a single dorm room which i’m happy about, I didn’t want a roommate.

My mom ended up telling Dwayne and Traci along with Jim and Ellen that I was starting the year here. They were all very happy, they also promised not to tell Josh and to let me do it once I was ready, but they did let Quinn know so he could keep an eye on me, or help show me around, thankfully he promised not to tell Josh.

Classes are starting soon, I’m excited yet nervous since I don’t know anyone here. I’ve never been shy so I know I'll be able to make friends, I just have to make sure not to tell them I'm related to Matthew and Brady because when people find out that’s one of the only reasons they want to be friends.

I just hope everything goes well when classes start.

One Month, Michigan 2018

I’ve been here for a month now, classes have been good, I've made a friend whose name is Molly. Her dorm is right next to mine, it turns out her brother plays on the hockey team.

I also met her brother, I have Econ with him and a few other freshmen on the men’s hockey team. After Molly introduced me to her brother, he introduced me to Nick since we all have Econ together I usually sit with them.

The boys invited me to a party tonight which the sophomore’s are throwing at their house. I was a little hesitant to accept since Josh will be there since it’s at his house.

But it’s already been a month so he’s going to find out soon anyways plus I don’t like lying to the guys about who I am, so I ended up accepting.

Molly was also going so she asked if I wanted to pregame with her, which I gladly agreed. Jimmy ended up getting one of the seniors on the team to buy us alcohol, which thank god since if i’m going to be seeing Josh, I’ll need alcohol in my system.

Molly and I were sitting on her bed talking and drinking. I've been nervous the whole day. I don’t know how Josh will react when he sees me, will he make a scene in front of everyone? Will he tell the guys not to talk to me again? Will they listen to him?

“Yn are you okay? You look nervous” Molly asked worriedly. I sighed before nodding.

“I didn’t really tell anyone here about this but um, I already know Josh Norris and I didn’t know who your brother was before but then I found out they’re teammates. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but my family is really close with him along with the Hughes family since my brother Brady played in the Untdp with Josh and Quinn.” I said she looked at me surprised.

“It’s fine I get why you didn’t tell me you didn’t want him to find out you go here, and by Brady do you mean Brady Tkachuk?” She asked. I nodded.

“Okay then, I guess we both have brothers who play hockey,” she said, making me chuckle.

“So you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?” I asked worriedly. She shook her head and smiled.

“Not at all” she said

“Great, I was worried that when you found out you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore” I said and she laughed.

“I understand why you didn’t want anyone to know, i’m not going to stop being friends with you because of it” she said and I smiled

“I’m just worried that Josh might cause a scene tonight when he sees me,” I said.

“If it gets to much, or he starts to make a scene, let me know and we’ll leave”

“I don’t want you to leave the party because of me”

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t leave you alone” she said smiling.

After a while we met up with her brother, along with Nick. We all made our way to the party together thank god. I ended up warning them about the Josh situation, just like Molly they understood.

Once we got there we made our way to the living room where it was already packed with people. Nick and Jimmy went to get us some drinks. When they got back they gave Molly and I a white claw. I’m already feeling a little drunk, but not too bad.

We kept talking when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around confused to see a happy Quinn Hughes, which made me smile. Quinn is probably one of the Nicest guys ever, I like him, and unlike Josh he actually likes me.

Quinn Smiled brightly.

“I thought that was you, how are you enjoying Michigan?” He rambled before pulling me in a hug. I Chuckled.

“I like it,” I replied. He pulled away from the hug before looking at me confused.

“I’m glad, remember to text me if you ever need anything?”

“I know” I said

“ I could have showed you around campus, you know” he said. I could tell he was a little hurt that I ask him.

“I’m sorry Quinn, but I didn’t want to risk Josh finding out” I said, Quinn’s eyes softened.

“Well if he tries anything, let me know, he’s not the only one who lives here” he said.

“Thanks Quinn” I said.

“He’s in the kitchen now if you just want to get it over with,” Quinn said.

I looked at him before looking at Molly and the guys. They nodded.

“Okay sure probably best to just do that, if it goes south Molly, can yo…” I started but she cut me off

“I’ll rescue you, I promise,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you” I said before looking back at Quinn and nodding.

As we started walking I got even more nervous than I already was.

we made our way to the guys.

Josh has his back to us so he can’t see us making our way to them, but Will looked our way and his eyes widened, he was at the lake house for a bit this summer.

Josh turned around confused but when his eyes landed on me, he was pissed.

He met Quinn and I half way And looked down at me with a glare. If I was anyone else they probably would have been terrified and honestly I was a little bit, Josh is way taller than me, I'm only 5”5 so he’s towering over me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said harshly.

Quinn looked at him Annoyed

“Josh seriously, leave her alone. She’s a student here now, and unlike you I actually like her along with some of the freshmen so she��s not going anywhere "Quinn told him.

Josh rolled his eyes and laughed. What the hell was so funny?

“Just because you go here now, doesn’t mean I'm going to start being nice to you” he said looking me straight in the eyes.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else from you” I said annoyed.

He just rolled his eyes and went back to the rest of the guys.

“Well that went better than expected, '' Quinn said surprised, which made me laugh.

“Same Quinn, I honestly thought It was going to be worse.”

If it wasn’t the fact that Josh was angry with me, I actually thought he looked amazing. I thought, I snapped out of it, what the hell? I can’t stand the guy and now I think he looks good? I think I had enough to drink.

March 2019

(Pretend they made it to the big ten)

With Josh finding out that I'm in Michigan I thought it would be worse than it is. I think Quinn has been keeping him in check, which I am very grateful for.

I’ve been going to the hockey game with Molly, we got even more close.

Even though Josh still tries to make my life a living hell, the rest of the guys on the team like me.

I reapplied to Ottawa about a month ago. I'm still waiting for my acceptance letter by email, I didn’t tell the guys, the only one who knows is Molly.

It’s now Monday and this weekend the guys are going to Minnesota for the Big Ten Championship. Molly was going with her parents since it’s a big game for the boys.

I really hope they win, they’ve been playing amazing.

I am currently in my dorm room working on some homework when my phone starts ringing. I looked to see that Traci was calling me.

I answered.

“Hey Traci” I said happily, she’s always been like a second mom to me.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you up to?” She asked

“Right now I am finishing some homework, what’s up?” I asked.

“That’s good, I always have to keep those grades up,” she said, making me laugh.

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to come with Dwayne and I to Minnesota this weekend for the Big Ten Championship game?” She asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Josh and I don’t exactly get along”

“Sweetheart, that doesn’t matter, I know Molly is also going and Dwayne and I love you like a daughter so we thought we would ask, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” she said softly. I thought about it for a few seconds. I can complete all my homework before, and that way I won’t be alone in Ann Arbor when all my friends are in Minnesota.

I smiled softly.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“Perfect, I can’t wait, I’ll send you the details” she said happily.

“Thank you Traci”

“Anytime sweetheart, I'll let you get back to your homework” she said.

Once we said our goodbyes I hung up and texted Molly to tell her I was going to Minnesota with them, she’s excited and so am I.

Big Ten Championship, 2019

Dwayne, Traci and I got to Minnesota this Morning after we made our way to the hotel. Traci and I met up with Molly and her mom, along with Ellen and we went to do a little bit of shopping at the mall. That game is tonight, so at 3 we all made our ways back to the hotel so we could get ready for the game.

I was nervous the whole game but luckily Michigan was able to win. Thankfully it’s Friday, and everyone is leaving to go back to Michigan tomorrow morning. The guys have already said they are throwing a party as soon as they step foot in Ann Arbor.

As soon as the plane landed Traci and Dwayne dropped us off on Campus where we both made our way to our dorms to get ready for this party and hang out with the boys.

They’re flight is supposed to land in an hour, so we have time to chat and get ready.

When the boys were ready to get the party started Quinn texted me to let me know we could go over to the seniors house.

Once we arrived we started drinking with the boys, they were already drinking full swing when we got there.

Talking and partying with them is always fun.

At around 8:00 p.m. I saw Josh make his way to the kitchen, probably to get himself another drink, I followed him there. He took a beer out of the cooler, he turned around to see me there, I smiled weakly.

“Do you mind giving me one?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes before taking a second beer and passing it to me.

I smiled

“Thank you.” I replied.

He gave me a small nod and went to walk away but I stopped him.

There was no one else in the kitchen, everyone was either in the living room or outside.

“Wait” I rushed out so he wouldn’t leave.

He stopped in his tracks before turning and looking at me. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“What?” He asked, annoyed.

I was a little drunk but not too bad, but thankfully when I have alcohol in my system I’m not scared to talk to him.

“I just wanted to say congrats, you guys played really well” I said.

He nodded and went to walk away again.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I blurted out.

Josh rolled his eyes.

“Because I don’t like you,” he said and walked away. Why can’t he see me the same way I see him? He’s an incredible person even though he’s always mean to me, he’s nice to everyone else he’d do anything for his friends or family. I just wish he liked me.

It sucks having a crush on someone when that someone hates you.

I sighed before making my way back to Molly.

Frozen four 2019

I finally got the Letter from Ottawa. I've been accepted so it means I'll be moving there next year. Molly was a little sad when she found out I was leaving Umich but she was also excited for me to be going to my dream school, she told me that we would still stay in touch and we both promised to visit each other.

Jimmy heard the conversation and ended up telling Will who told Josh. Josh ended up coming to my door angry saying that the only reason I was going to Ottawa was because he was going to Ottawa. I was going since it’s my dream school and my brother is also there.

The argument ended in a screaming match and we haven’t talked to each other since.

I really wish we could get along but I don’t think we ever will.

I went to Tampa with Dwayne and Traci to watch the Frozen Four, sadly the boys lost, which meant Josh left for Ottawa, Quinn was leaving for Vancouver, it was an emotional time.

Once I got back to Umich, the last 2 weeks of University flew by. I said goodbye to Molly and the guys before finally heading home to St. Louis.

Three Years Later, Summer 2023

NHL playoff we’re officially over, sadly Matty lost in the finals against Vegas and got injured but they had a good run.

Everyone has been home for a while now. We are leaving today to go to New Jersey for Brady and Emma’s wedding.

I can’t wait to finally have another sister. Emma and Brady are perfect for each other, I hope someday I’ll find that type of love.

Three years went by fast, I spent the past three years in Ottawa ignoring Josh, it wasn’t that hard since he was also keeping his distance from me.

Thankfully the flight went by fast and I was able to sleep on the plane, I didn’t spend it worrying about seeing Josh. The whole Norris family along with the Hughes family will be at the wedding. As excited as I am to see Dalton, Quinn, Josh and Jack, I am not excited to see Josh.

Josh and I have seen each other a few time in Ottawa but the only time we talked to each other was to argue, it only got worse after he accused me of only going to Ottawa to make his life a living hell since I was going to be in Ottawa. I never told anyone about that fight, they all know we don’t get along so it won’t be a surprise if we get into an argument at the wedding.

My parents warned me to try and not make a scene to ruin Brady and Emma’s wedding. I totally understand that’s the last thing I want to do, plus we are all adults here.

Rehearsal dinner

Once Taryn and I were ready we met up with Matty and our parents to go to the venue.

I’m so nervous about seeing Josh, that's all I can think about. Once we get there he’s the first one I see, he’s with his brother and parents he had his back to me which meant he didn’t see me but Dalton did so he waved and smiled. I did the same, that’s when Josh turned around confused and saw me, all he did was send me a glare and went back to talking with his brother.

I really hope this doesn’t cause any trouble.

During the end of the night when everyone was around talking and drinking I made my way out on the balcony so I could get some fresh air.

I didn’t realize anyone followed me until I heard the door slide open and then shut.

I turned around only to find Josh.

I rolled my eyes and turned back around to look at the view.

If he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, why did he follow me outside?

“What do you want Josh?” I asked, annoyed, when he came and stood next to me. I looked up to see he was looking at the sky.

He looks really good in his suit.

“I just thought I’d tell you not to cause a scene this weekend and ruin your brother’s wedding” he said

I scoffed before turning fully to look at him.

“Screw you, I was doing pretty good at ignoring you, why the hell did you have to come out here and start this?” I asked angrily.

He chuckled

“This is what I meant all you had to do was agree and move on,” he said, pissed.

“You started it, What the hell is a matter with you? It’s always like this… why do you hate me so much?” I asked, pissed.

“Because you deserve it”

I scoffed.

“Except I don’t… i’ll i’ve ever tried to do was be nice to you… what have I ever done to you to make you hate me so much?…” I said tears are threatening to fall. Before Josh could say anything Matt interrupted.

“That’s enough you two, don’t do this here” I heard Matt say before he pulled me away. I saw Dalton and Quinn giving me a sad look before he pulled Josh back inside.

I was so focused on the argument I never realized they’d made their way outside.

Once Josh, Dalton and Quinn made their way inside Matt, looked at me worried.

“What happened between the two of you? Usually when you guys know something important, you guys ignore each other, I mean brady always said you guys mostly ignored each other in Ottawa except for a few times… Did something happen?” Matt asked.

I sighed before nodding my head.

“When I got accepted to Ottawa three years ago as you know, I had only told Molly, but turns out Jimmy had heard so he told Will who told Josh… Josh accused me of only going to Ottawa because he was also going, so I could make his life a living hell, which is why i tried ignoring him as much as I could for the past three years” I said, wiping away the tears that rolled down my cheek.

Matthew signed before pulling me in a hug. I started to silently cry.

“I’m so sorry, Yn” he said sadly.

“Why does he hate me so much? Should have I stayed in Michigan? Should I never had moved to Ottawa in the First place?” I asked

Should I have let him win and stayed in Michigan even though Ottawa to my dream school three years ago? Should I have left my dreams while he goes to live his? Should I leave the Job I’m supposed to start in September in Ottawa and stay in St. Louis?

“First off you Went to Ottawa because you had worked your ass off for it, so you weren’t ever going to back out. Second I don’t think he’s ever hated you, so you better not be thinking of turning that job down in Ottawa just to please him…” matt said

“You literally just heard him, he clearly doesn’t like me… I just wish he could see me the way I see him” I blurt out. I look at Matt with wide eyes, I can't believe I just said that.

Matt started smirking.

“Stop, you better not say anything” I pointed at him.

He raised his hands up in surrender.

“Look I won’t say anything… but guys are kinda idiots so we usually do stupid things when we like a girl… I think he might actually feel the same way he’s just too afraid to say anything, "Matt said, making me laugh.

“Yeah right” I said in disbelief, there is no way Josh feels the same way about me. I won’t believe it.

Matt and I finally made our way inside, we didn’t mention what happened to anyone, no chance was I going to ruin Brady and Emma’s night.

I didn’t see Josh anywhere so maybe he left.

Once the night was over we all made our ways to our rooms. Thankfully I'm rooming with Taryn. When I was finally ready for bed, Taryn was laying on her phone when she saw me making my way to my bed.

“What happened on the balcony tonight?” She was curious. She put her phone on the bedside table before looking at me.

I looked at her shocked, I didn’t realize anyone noticed we were there.

“You saw that?” I asked, before getting under the blanket.

“Yeah, Emma’s the one who noticed and told me, '' she said. I looked at her Guilty. Fuck i was really hopping neither Emma or Brady saw that.

Taryn saw my guilty look before she reassured me.

“Don’t worry, she wasn’t mad… she was just worried about you… apparently she thinks you like Josh or something?” She said

My eyes widened.

“What about me? Puff no…” I struggle nervously. Taryn's eyes widened before she started laughing.

“Oh my god, she was right? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this?” She asked

“Because he’s never going to feel the same way” I mumbled, but she still heard me.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t and you never know… maybe Dalton or even Quinn will talk some sense into him. Plus tomorrow’s the wedding and a lot of people fall in love at weddings…” she said.

“Are we still talking about Josh and I? Or is there something you want to tell me?” I laughed.

She chuckled.

“We’re still talking about you and Josh,” she said, chuckling.

“Whatever, get some sleep we have to wake up early tomorrow” I said.

“Good night sis” she said

“Good night,” I replied, yawning.

Wedding day

Taryn and I woke up early to make our way to the suite so we could get ready with Emma since we were both bridesmaids.

Emma is absolutely stunning. I know for a fact that Brady will cry, Taryn and I made a bet with Matty. Once it was time to make our way to the ceremony we made our way down to meet the groomsmen, I’m walking with Quinn thankfully.

When Quinn saw me he smiled. I stood next to him so he gave me a side hug.

“You look beautiful,” he said. I smiled at him.

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself” I said, making him chuckle.

The pair started making their way down the aisle, before it was our turn, Quinn leaned in my ear to whisper.

“Josh is going to try and talk to you at the reception… I promise everything will go alright, Dalton and I talked to him last night, you should hear him out” he said, I sent him a nod.

The ceremony went amazing, I cried during their vows. When Brady saw Emma walking down the aisle he cried, both Taryn and I sent him a look that said you better pay up.

After the ceremony we all made our way outside for pictures before going to the reception.

At the reception after the speeches I saw Josh looking at me. I thought about what Quinn said, it still made me nervous so I tried to ignore him until I was at least tipsy.

I talked with Kevin Hayes and his wife. They got married about a week ago, it was a beautiful wedding.

“Why is it that when I leave St. Louis you get traded there?” I asked smirking, He laughed and shrugged.

“Promise me you’ll visit when you visit home?” He asked

“I promise,” I said chuckling.

I saw Josh make his way to the balcony, I was finally tipsy so I went to the open bar to get another drink before making my way to him.

I took a deep breath before opening the door.

He was leaning on the railing looking at the sky in front of him.

I made my way and stood next to him.

It was quiet for a few minutes and I was just starting to get even more nervous so I decided to speak up.

“Quinn said you wanted to talk to me?” I asked, looking at him.

He looked at me and smiled shyly. He took a deep breath before nodding.

“I’m sorry” he said

I scoffed, is that really all he has to say?

“Sorry for what exactly?” I asked, annoyed.

He rolled his eyes

“I knew you were going to be difficult” he replied annoyed

I signed before scratching my head.

“Look Josh I’m tired of fighting with you, why are you always so mean to me?” I said sadly.

If he could just tell me why, I'll leave him alone after and he won’t have to talk to me again.

He sighed before turning to look at me fully. He was standing right in front of me. My face was inches away from his chest. I looked up at him.

“I never meant to be so mean to you, or hurt your feelings, trust me I know, i’ve heard it from our friends and my family…”

“Then why are you?” I whispered looking up at him.

He raised his hand to my cheek stroking it with his thumb.

“I’m really sorry, I really like you, always have but when we first met I thought you had a crush on Jack and I guess I was jealous and according to Quinn I was very wrong but when I finally figured out that wasn’t the case I really thought you hated me for the way I treated you so I just never stopped…” he said caressing my cheek.

I looked at his eyes, I could tell he was sorry, that he meant every word he just said.

“I never had a crush on Jack, him, Luke and Quinn have always been like brothers to me…same with your brother, you’re the one I had a crush on and Jack figured it out so he would always tease me about it when we were kids” I said chuckling.

He smiled.

I saw him look from my lips then back to my eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked

“I’d like that,” I said smiling.

He leaned down and smashed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync. I moved my hands to his chest.

One of his hands was still on my cheek, he moved the other around my waist and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.

Before the kiss could get too heated we pulled away breathing heavily. I smiled looking at him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since we were 15” he said smiling. I giggled.

“I'm glad you finally did,” I said.

I saw something in the corner of my eye at the door. I pulled slightly away only to see Quinn, Jack, Luke, Matt, and Tim Stutzle, watching us.

My eyes widened, I hid my face in Josh’s chest and groaned.

“What?” He asked, chuckling.

“We have an audience” I mumbled embarrassingly. I felt him turn his head to look at the door.

“We’re never gonna live this down are we?” He asked

“Definitely not”

“Come on, we better go back inside before they start yelling at everyone,” Josh said, making me chuckle.

“Good idea” I said nodding

He kissed my forehead before grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

I’m really happy, I don’t even think the teasing we were about to get will even ruin my mood.

I saw Jack giving money to Luke and Quinn.

“Did you guys bet on us?” Josh asked them, surprised.

“Hell yeah we did” Jack said excitedly.

“There’s more than one, Brady, Tim and I have one going with Emma and Taryn, guess the girls were right about the fact a wedding loves bringing people together” Matt said.

“You better go pay up and put Emma in a better mood and piss off Brady” I said, he laughed.

“Come on let’s go find Brady we’ll need his money too” Matt said, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me with him. I laughed while Tim and I followed behind. Josh stayed with the guys.

“You couldn’t have waited until we went to the lake house next week?” Matt asked me right before we find Brady

“Sorry Matty,” I said smiling, I'm not sorry at all.

Brady was talking with a few of his teammates, Emma was talking with some of the girls along with Taryn not far from him.

Brady turned around when we got to him.

He pulled us into a hug.

“I’m Married, can you believe it?” He said excitedly. I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Tone it down, we owe money to Taryn and Emma” Matt said

Brady's eyes widened then his jaw dropped.

“Seriously, you couldn’t have waited till next week? Did it really have to be on my wedding day?” He asked.

“Clearly your wife is okay with that,” I said, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah here” he said, handing the money to me. Matt and Tim did the same. I made my way to Emma and Taryn, they both smiled when they saw me.

“Well i’m about to make both of you very happy” I said, they looked at me confused until i showed them the money.

“You guys won the bet” I continued.

“Oh my god, Finally” Emma said, hugging me. Taryn joined us.

“We’ve all been waiting for this to happen” Taryn said

“Well I'm just glad someone believed it would.” I said, making them laugh.

“I’m pretty sure everyone believed it would, we just didn’t know when” Emma said.

“Well i’m glad that i got to help you both make a little bit of money, i’ll let you guys go back to chatting, I’ll find you both later… enjoy your wedding sis "I told Emma.

“Thanks Yn, couldn’t be happier to receive two sisters,” she said.

“Love you both” i said smiling

“We love you too, now go back to Josh “ Taryn said. I started laughing while making my way back to Josh, who smiled when he saw me.

New Jersey, Two years later.

“You may now kiss the bride” the officiant said

Josh put his hand on my waist and pulled me into a passionate kiss.

All the cheering in the back was loud.

When we pulled away, we learned our foreheads together, smiling.

“I love you Mr. Norris” I said

“I love you more Mrs. Norris” he replied

“We finally have a sister” I heard Dalton yelling in the background making me giggle.

I can’t believe I just married the love of my life, it feels like forever ago we had just confessed our feelings for each other, on this exact balcony and now we're married.

I looked behind Josh to see my Brother Brady who is one of the groomsmen, he was crying which made me laugh.

“Brady, when did you become the emotional one in the family?” I joked, he just gave me the finger, with Matty slapping his hand down.

Looks like I found a love like Brady and Emma After all, I couldn’t be happier.

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hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog · 10 months ago

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Have you read the fanfic “Radio Healed the Video Star” by Aspiring_Forest_Witch on A03 yet?? Because let me tell you it is genuinely one of the BEST and most well-written fan fictions that I have ever read; it’s 48 chapters so far and is longer than most Harry Potter books but the plot is so amazing and wonderfully constructed. Had me giggling and kicking my feet with every new chapter ❤️

It’s Staticradio centered, but a bunch of other ships appear as well! The fanfic was written before the official Hazbin Hotel series came out however, so the entire world-building is canon divergent. But it’s still so, SO good and I would definitely recommend it to you!!! (If you’re okay with reading excessively long fanfictions that will make you incredibly attached to each character and their relationship lol)

Also I’m pretty sure the author is on Tumblr as well; idk what their username is but the main artist for the series is @randomdork-artdump on Tumblr :) I absolutely love this fanfic and hope that you will too!!

Currently in the process of reading it!! I was recommended not too long ago by one of my mutuals, I think I'm at chapter 10 right now. I normally avoid fics with any nsft content in them at all but I'm really loving it so far, and the art is amazing too. I love good world building and I'm definitely not opposed to canon divergency, I've been here since the original trailer and we were running off crumbs for years, it always amazes me how people can write and do so much with what we had at the time

Once I finish it'll definitely beat out the record for longest fic I've read which was at 295k words before

#ask #staticradio #radiostatic #staticlovetune #tags to promote this lovely fic for anyone else who hasnt heard of it

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heyitstaytay21 · 5 months ago

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The Ghosts of the Gotham Opera House is now officially the longest fic I've ever written.

That feels weird because I definitely didn't go into this thinking it was going to be a short thing but now I know exactly where it's going and I'm debating if I should split it into two fics or keep it as one long fic. There's a point coming that would be a very good place to divide it. I sometimes get intimidated by fics that are too long.

I've already got a side project going for this fic that includes some interactions of Peter with others in the DCU so I'll be marking it as a series already. So I guess I'm asking you all who have been following along with the fic, would you rather the two parts of this fic be all in one long fic or would it be better to split them into two parts?

#the ghosts of the gotham opera house #jason todd #peter parker #tim drake #peter parker in gotham #batfamily #damian wayne #batman fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic writing #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #marvel fanfiction #dc fanfic

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vintagelacerosette · 6 months ago

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Wednesday tag game

Hiii darling angelpies! I am here on timeish 😆

I was tagged by these dazzling sweethearts Nosho @creepkinginc Mel @gardenerian Evie @energievie Deanna @deedala Kat @ mybrainismelted Julia @blue-disco-lights Al @spookygingerr Jessica @guinguin1984

How did you get into the fandom?

Like a lot of us 😆 I saw a fan edit of Mickey & Ian on YouTube (I can't find it again even when I've searched my history 😭) I was kinda in between fandoms at the time with Malex from Roswell New Mexico but they were broken up at the time & buddie lol.

But then I was shot through the heart when I went through the gallavich tag & it felt like home 🥰

How long have you been here?

I was lurking at the end of 2021 & the first official time I contributed to this darling fandom in Feb 2022 with gallacrafts 💝

What's the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?)

Here on tumblr babeeeyy

What's your favourite now?

Still tumblr but I wish I was better on discord 😅 I get overwhelmed & don't wanna talk over ppl 😔

Which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

Oh my goodness I had no idea but my longest mutual is the always spectacular Calli @callivich 🥰🩵💙 woooww!!

Which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know?

Y'all have to understand you are all unbelievably swoon worthy & there's only so many ppl I can tag in one post (damn you tagging limit 😣)

Ok, so definitely have a big crush on Deena @suzy-queued & to see smitten feeling is mutual got me

GIF by theresaphoenixinmyboot

Alice @darthvaders-wife Jane @captainjowl Mitch @psychicskulldamage when we became mutuals I squealed bc how much talent??

Jenna @ianrightsonly & Kay @goodkwuestion their fics changed me

Also, Benja @svltburn | Nosho | Vey @look-i-love-u Macy @heymacy Julissa @heymrspatel Jo @jomilky Harvey @mikhailoisbaby Georgia @iansw0rld Molly @deathclassic Stas @messedwithmandy Howl @howlinchickhowl Michelle @michellemisfit | Deanna | LJ @ofalltheginjoints Sam @sam-loves-seb Face @ burninface | Calli | AJ @ clingymickey Mills @gallavichsbitch Leah @whatwouldmickeydo

Also Jay!! You've left but gave me butterflies 🦋

Pls I kind hate this question! I've come to the conclusion I have a crush on you all OK?? 😭

This is why I make y'all Valentine's

First gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)?

By the magnificent Kay The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Ian Gallagher!!! OH MY GOSH JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC MAKES ME FEEL ELATED & FERAL!!! It's my favourite piece of written work & I need my non gallavich ppl to read it so I can scream into their faces how much I love it 🥰🩷🩷🩷

First fan art that blew your mind?

Seriously, Deena's gallacrafts & art always take my breath away!!! Like the artistry & creativity?? I wanna get to your level 🥰

It's three dimensional & has twinkling lights ✨️ I was astounded & my jaw literally dropped 😍

All of Alice's art especially my commissioned art 🩷

Also, Mitch's comic I stared at it forever like Ian's eyes reflecting Mick's booty 🍑👀

Fanfic trope that you were sure wasn't for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

I have read some pretty freaky & nasty fic bc of curiosity, so I nothing really gave me icks in tropes, but in writing style, I got turned around with Jen @wehangout with second person POV. You're so talented that I really enjoyed them when I would nope out before 😆

What surprised you most about this fandom?

Everything surprised me about this fandom bc it was my first one!! 😆 I didn't really know how to do tumblr & didn't really get how to interact. So I used tumblr like a sticker book, then came learning tags & so ppl reached out to me which helped me gain confidence haha

This is kinda a golden standard fandom. So welcoming, loving & encouraging!! If I ever dabble in another fandom, imma have a high standard bc I've been spoiled by y'all! ILY

Moment in the show (or YT vids if you're one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich?

It was the "I'm fucking gay" scene to the "Guess what we've been doing daddy" The way he humps the car with all that conviction & screaming "he fucking loves it".

Everything clicked & I was like "Damn I love this fictional man." He is my favourite character of all time & this ship is my OTP & GOAT.

Also I love this edit too. It gives me chills

youtube

Ian or Mickey?

Mickey, but holy shit I love them both

Which gallagher or milkovich are you?

I took a page from @/guinguin1984 & did some quizzes & I got Fiona Ian Fiona Debbie not of them feel right ahaha

I guess Fiona bc I had her twice 😅

Consider yourself tagged if I have a crush on you or mentioned you. Also tagging these sunshines & if you wanna do it too, have at it 💛🥰

@lingy910y @mickittotheman @doshiart @crossmydna @y0itsbri @7x10mickey @whatthebodygraspsnot @ms-moonlight-inn @mmmichyyy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @kiinard @transmickey @gallawitchxx @sleepyheadgallavich @rereadanon @whaticameherefor @darlingian @andthatisnotfake @ian-galagher @francesrose3

#tag game #Youtube

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 2 months ago

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HIII BFFF!!!🤗🤗 i hope u are well!!!

sorry for not being active 😣😣 a gal has been booked and BUSY. but hopefully i’ll have some more free time soon 🙏🙏

i was going to write something like this… howeverrrr i have a lot of ideas already & i think you can do a really good job with this!!!

but basically you can pick either josh or tyler & the reader is a pop rock kinda artist & tyler/josh have always admired her from afar. so they invite the reader to open for them on tour. there’s some romantic tension & reader plays a song dedicated to tyler/josh & the fans r all 😮😮😮

something like that!!!! you can do whatever with it, i think there’s a lot of directions you can take this:3

p.s how are you feeling abt getting a LIVE ALBUM… still in shock.

Smithereens - Tyler Joseph x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Nothing hehe

Word Count: 3648 - pretty sure this is officially the longest fic I've written and posted on here :)

A/N: OH MA GAWD THIS WAS FUN AF FREN... this is so freaking cute I can't even deal with it! I'm in massive shock at the fact we're getting a live album btw my show isn't even until November and things just keep getting better and better with the tour lol I can't believe we're getting some of the transitions like natn to hds like WHAT THE WOW oh and the possibility of hometown x slowtown (um slowtown on streaming???? Tyler the man u ur–and josh bc ily). I cannot wait. oh and heathens into next semester... I'm so excited bc the setlist is so good it's gonna rock and be on repeat forever. Anyways, enough rambling onto the amazing fic I am incredibly proud of! 😁

“What!” I barked into my phone, rubbing my eyes until my vision went from blurry to clear. It had been a crazy night before, staying up late partying with my friends before falling to sleep at 3am. What had woken me up was a series of buzzing noises from my phone, buzz after buzz after buzz until it started ringing.

“Y/N? It’s Mary.” Shit. My manager.

“Oh! Sorry! It was a hectic night,” I laughed, running a hand through my hair.

Her laugh echoed through the speakers of my phone. “So I’ve heard. It’s all over social media.” I shook my head, knowing exactly who had posted what to their thousands of followers.

“What’s up?” I asked, flopping down onto my perfectly plump pillows.

“I’ve booked you a tour!” I could tell she was ecstatic, even more so that I was. We’d been hoping to book a tour for the last year and a half and finally we’d done it. It was hard trying to find bands or musicians who were open to having newer and alternative artists open for them–especially someone whose genre is somewhat all over the place.

“What?” I shot up in bed, wide awake now, the sleepiness immediately replaced by a rush of excitement and nerves. “With who?”

Mary hesitated for a moment, letting the anticipation build. “Well... how do you feel about opening for Twenty One Pilots?”

My heart practically leapt out of my chest. Twenty One Pilots? As in Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph? I’d always admired them, like... from afar. Sure, we’d crossed paths a few times at festivals and award shows, but nothing like this. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if they’d heard of me before.

“You’re kidding,” I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper.

“Not at all,” she replied, her tone giddy with excitement for me. “They specifically asked for you. Apparently, Tyler’s been a big fan of your music for a while. This could be huge, Y/N.”

I could hardly process it. “Wait… they asked for me? Tyler listens to my music? Sorry WHAT?!” Tyler Joseph? A fan of my music? It felt unreal. “I—” I stammered, feeling overwhelmed. “When does it start?”

“Next month. But you’re going to need to rehearse like crazy to get ready.”

“I’ll be ready.” I hung up the phone and collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. I was going on tour with Twenty One Pilots. Tyler and Josh. The guys I had admired for years were now... going to be watching me from backstage? I felt a shiver of nervous energy run down my spine.

A few weeks later, rehearsals were in full swing, and I was gearing up for the first show.

“Y/N! They’re here!” My friend Joseph had screeched running into the rehearsal space. “No way.” I covered my mouth to try and hide the growing psychotic smile on my face. I was going to pass out from excitement. This wasn’t happening. I turned to the entrance to see the two of them strutting in, shaking the hands and bumping the fists of crew members they both knew and didn’t know. My heart was pounding as I watched them walk in, every movement somehow both casual and magnetic. Josh, with his surprisingly natural brown hair and classic easy smile, waved at a few familiar faces, while Tyler, wearing his usual baseball cap and oversized hoodie, exuded that quiet intensity I’d always admired. They looked like they belonged, like they owned the room without even trying. And here I was, standing in the middle of the rehearsal space, trying not to lose my cool.

Joseph was practically vibrating with excitement beside me, nudging me with his elbow. “Dude, go say hi!” he whispered, eyes wide.

“I-I can’t. Look at them,” I replied, clenching my jaw through every world to hide my delusion.

I swallowed hard, my palms already sweaty. What was I supposed to say? Hey, I'm Y/N, a rando who's admired you from afar for years? Oh, and thanks for asking me to open for you on tour, no big deal.

Before I could overthink it any more, Tyler's eyes landed on me. My breath hitched as he gave me a nod and a small smile, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my pulse race. He elbowed Josh, who turned and followed his gaze.

“Oh man, it’s her!” Josh said, grinning as they walked over. Sorry, what?

“Y/N, right?” Tyler said, his voice warm but somehow deeper in person.

I turned to look around the room as if trying to figure out if he was talking to me or not. “Uh… yeah?” I said, it came out more like a question than an answer. “Yeah, that's me,” I repeated, trying to sound casual even though my heart was doing backflips. “Thanks for, uh... asking me to open for you guys. It's an honor.”

Tyler exchanged a glance with Josh, something unspoken passing between them. “We’ve been following your music for a while now,” Tyler admitted, rubbing the back of his neck like he was just as unsure of what to say as I was. “You–You’re really talented.”

I blinked, trying to process the fact that Tyler Joseph just said that to me. “Thanks. That means a lot, really.”

“We’re stoked to have you on board,” Josh chimed in, flashing that friendly, easygoing smile. “I think the fans are gonna lose it when they see you perform.”

“Yeah,” Tyler added, his eyes meeting mine again. “It's gonna be a good tour.”

There was something in the way he said it, the weight behind his words, that made my skin tingle. I felt that spark again, the same one I’d felt from watching him in interviews and onstage, but this time it was real. Tangible.

Over the next few days, I kept catching Tyler’s eyes during rehearsals, our conversations short but loaded with something unspoken. It was subtle—just the way his gaze lingered a little too long, or how his smile felt more personal when it was directed at me. I wasn’t sure if I was crazy–my immense crush on the multi-talented lead singer getting the best of me–or if he had noticed the same thing. The energy between us felt electric, charged with something we weren’t quite saying out loud.

One evening, after my home city show, I was sitting out on the stage–the venue completely empty. I was alone, staring out at the abandoned seats and floor, still able to feel the energy from less than a few hours ago. Letting out a deep sigh, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Tyler standing there, hands in his hoodie pockets, his expression unreadable.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked softly.

I shook my head, patting the spot beside me. “Not at all.”

He sat down, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the proximity making my heart race. We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint hum of the venue’s equipment the only sound. I could feel his eyes on me as I picked up my ukulele which was sitting next to me and started absentmindedly strumming a few chords.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” Tyler started, his voice quiet, like he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal. “But… your performance today? It was incredible.”

I glanced over at him, biting back a smile. “I didn’t know you were watching.”

“I’m always watching,” he said, his gaze intense, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at me. “I’m trying… I’m so worried that I’m gonna mess up and make a fool of myself in front of your fans.”

“You’re not and you won’t,” he said quickly, his eyes searching mine. “Far from it, actually. Last time I checked twitter they were talking about how much they love you.”

We fell into another heavy silence, the air between us thick with tension. My pulse was racing, and I felt like there were a million things I wanted to say, but none of them made sense in my head. Tyler shifted slightly, his knee brushing against mine, and even that small touch sent sparks through me.

“Is it weird,” I started slowly, my voice fragile, “that I feel like I’ve known you for longer than I have?”

The question clearly caught him off guard. His breath hitched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “No, it’s not weird,” he said, glancing down at the floor. “I feel that way too.” Tyler smiled, a small, almost shy smile that made my heart flutter.

“It’s just… I’ve been following your music for so long, and now that you’re here… I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitated, his eyes flicking to my lips for just a second before I answered. “Better. Way better than I imagined.”

The air between us felt charged, like something was about to happen, but neither of us made the next move. I could feel the weight of his words settling into the space between us, making everything feel more real, more intense.

I had to break the tension before it swallowed me whole.

“Speaking of better,” I said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to mask the shakiness in my voice. “I was thinking of doing something special for tomorrow’s show.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s that?”

I glanced at him, feeling a rush of boldness as the idea solidified in my mind. “I was thinking… I’d cover one of your songs.”

His eyes widened, clearly surprised. “You’d cover one of our songs?”

“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip nervously.

Tyler blinked, taken aback, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. But then his expression softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Which song?” he smirked, laying back on the stage.

“Something off Trench, it’s not on your setlist if that’s what you’re worried about,” I laughed, joining him.

“Why?” he asked, his voice low, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to admit. “Because it’s personal. And I’ve listened to your music for so long. It’s always been a dream of mine to get to perform one of your songs live.”

For a second, the world seemed to stop. Tyler’s smile faded, replaced by something deeper, something I couldn’t quite read. His eyes searched mine, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for his response.

“You… you’d really do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady even though my nerves were all over the place. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept looking at me like he was trying to figure something out. Then, finally, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that made my breath catch.

“It’s more than okay,” he said softly. “I think it’s… perfect.”

The tension between us didn’t break; if anything, it intensified. But it was different now, like we’d crossed some invisible line, and there was no going back.

The next night, the arena was buzzing with energy. I could feel the excitement in the air as I took the stage, the fans screaming and cheering, completely unaware of the surprise I had in store.

After a few songs, I paused, taking a deep breath as I stepped up to the mic. The crowd quieted, waiting for what was next.

“How’re we doing tonight Seattle?” A roar of screams and cheers rang through the venue. “I’ve got a little surprise for you guys tonight," I said, my voice echoing through the speakers. “I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to do a cover of a song that means so much to me. A song that a certain band didn’t put on their setlist this tour. Any guesses who I’m covering?” I laughed.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and I smiled, glancing toward the side of the stage where Tyler stood, watching me. Our eyes met, and I felt that familiar spark, the unspoken connection between us stronger than ever.

“You want to come up and play piano for this one Ty?” I asked, the crowd erupting in cheers. Tyler shook his head, hiding his face in his hands. “No? Oh come on, you know you want to. The sheet music’s up there…” I turned to the audience, “I haven’t told him what song I’m playing yet,” I laughed. “You sure you don’t wanna come play?” The fans started chanting for him to join me.

“Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!”

“Oh fine!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the crowd. He climbed on stage and jogged over to the piano, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. “You're really doing this, huh?” he teased as he adjusted the mic on the piano, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh. I walked over to him, turning the mic off for a second.

I grinned lightly as the energy of the crowd buzzed in the air. “Oh, I am definitely doing this. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”

Tyler's hands hovered over the keys, clearly waiting for the cue. “Smithereens? Really?” he laughed and I nodded, proud of myself. Tyler turned the mic back on as I waltzed back to my spot.

“Alright,” I said, glancing over at him. “This one’s for you Tyler.”

The crowd went wild, their reaction so loud it almost drowned out my words. Tyler chuckled into the mic, shaking his head again in disbelief, but his fingers were already on the keys, playing the opening melody. The soft, familiar notes filled the arena, and my heart started racing again, but for a different reason this time. This was personal. Intimate. And Tyler was right there, playing along with me.

I began singing, my voice steady but carrying all the emotion I had for the moment. I looked over at Tyler as I sang the words, and he glanced up, meeting my gaze for just a heartbeat. There was something in his eyes—something deeper than just admiration, something almost vulnerable. My chest tightened as I sang the next line, the weight of the song suddenly feeling more significant, more real than ever.

Tyler’s playing was flawless, but there was a hint of tension in his posture, like he was trying to keep something in check. I knew exactly how he felt; the energy between us was palpable, the tension from all those unspoken moments finally reaching a crescendo. The crowd sang along, but it was like they were in the background, as if this performance was happening in our own bubble. Just me and Tyler.

Every word felt like it was meant for him, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at him between the lyrics, feeling the connection spark every time our eyes met. When I hit the chorus, the crowd sang so loud I almost couldn’t hear myself. Tyler grinned, his fingers dancing over the keys, the music swelling around us, and for a second, I forgot we were even on stage. It was just him and me, sharing this raw, unfiltered moment.

As the song came to a close, the final notes ringing out, I turned to face Tyler fully. His gaze was locked on mine, his expression unreadable but intense. The applause and cheers from the audience roared to life, but I barely heard them. Tyler stood up from the piano, slowly walking over to me, and without thinking, I pulled him into a tight hug. The crowd went wild again, their cheers reaching a fever pitch, but it was just background noise to the heartbeat pounding in my ears.

As Tyler wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into the background—the roar of the crowd turned into a distant hum as I buried my face in his shoulder, savoring the moment. His warmth enveloped me, grounding me in the excitement and emotion of what we had just shared.

When we finally pulled back, Tyler kept his hands on my shoulders, his gaze holding mine for just a moment longer than necessary. A shy, yet genuine smile played on his lips, and my heart fluttered. I could feel my cheeks heating up, but I couldn't look away from him.

“Thank you for that,” Tyler said, his voice low but filled with an intensity that made my heart race. “You were incredible.”

I nodded, still breathless. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I didn’t just like it Y/N, it means more than just liking it,” he whispered into my ear.

The energy in the venue surged as I turned to the audience, their cheers echoing through the air. With a grin, I stepped back to the mic, trying to compose myself. “Wow, thank you, Seattle! You guys have been amazing tonight!” The crowd roared, and I took a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“This is the end of my set, but stick around because the real show is about to start! Twenty One Pilots is up next!” I waved to the fans, their cheers drowning out my words. “Thank you all so much! I love you!”

As I stepped away from the mic, Tyler clapped a hand on my back, leading me off stage. The moment we were out of view from the audience, the energy shifted. Tyler turned to me, his expression more serious, and I could see a mix of admiration and something deeper in his eyes.

“You made that song come alive in a way I never expected. You’re something else aren’t you?” he said, stepping closer, the air thick with unspoken words.

I chuckled, shrugging slightly and running a hand through my hair. “I just felt right to play,” I admitted, heart pounding. “It means a lot to me, Tyler.”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper. “You’re more than just a talented artist, Y/N. You’re something else entirely. That performance made me realize how lucky I am to have you on this tour. And honestly?” He paused, searching my eyes, the tension palpable. “It just further confirmed how I feel about you, not just as an artist, but as a person.”

My breath caught in my throat, a rush of warmth flooding through me at his words. “I admire you too, Tyler. You and Josh have been a huge inspiration to me.”

Tyler smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made my heart race. “No, really. That was more than just a performance to me. It felt personal. There’s something here, between us.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I took a step closer to him. “I feel it too. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it.”

He brushed a thumb over my cheek, his gaze unwavering. “Then let’s not overthink it. I’m here, you’re here, we clearly both feel something for each other,” he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. “Every time you look at me, it’s like you see straight through to my soul.”

I swallowed hard, his words washing over me. “I could say the same about you.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice deepening. “Because I want to explore whatever this is between us. I want to see where it leads.”

With the distance between us closing, I felt the thrill of the moment, the intensity of his words and the warmth of his presence enveloping me. I wanted to lean in, to let him know just how much I felt, but the excitement and nervousness tangled together in a way that made me hesitant.

Tyler stepped forward, closing the gap even further. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve got to know that every word of that song was a reflection of how I feel about you. It might not have been written with anyone in mind but it’s exactly how I feel about you. And I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you how much you mean to me.”

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, sending sparks of electricity through my entire being. The kiss was soft, yet filled with an undeniable passion, and in that moment, everything else faded away. All the worries, the nerves—everything was drowned out by the intensity of his kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, he smiled down at me, his expression both playful and serious. “I think I’m going to enjoy this tour a lot more now.”

I laughed, the tension lifting as I felt lighter, happier than I had in a long time. “Me too, Tyler. Me too.” I held onto his hand, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand. “Now, you’re supposed to go on in 10 minutes so you should probably go find Josh.”

“Oh damn you’re right,” he looked up at the clock on the wall noticing the time. He started down the hall in the direction of their dressing room but stopped to turn back towards me. “I–We–We’re going out after the show, okay?”

I nodded, letting out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll come find you. But you really need to go,” I smiled.

“I really need to go,” he repeated, looking slightly sad that he had to leave. And with that, he walked back into his dressing room, the excitement of the night still crackling in the air.

REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN TEAM!

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