#who knows what it’ll be but i’m posting this month | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chahnniesroom · 4 months ago

Text

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

688 notes · View notes

sweetkpopmusings · 3 months ago

Text

stray kids soulmate aus | s. changbin <3

a/n: finally posting the next skz soulmate au !! i loved writing for sweet baby angel changbin :,,,-) i'm really in my skz feels these days, so hopefully i can write more soulmate aus soon <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.6k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!changbin x gn!reader | requests: open

every month, you send a package to your soulmate, knowing only your names before you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“changbin?” chan called from outside the bedroom, “are you ready yet?”

changbin, half-dressed and digging through his closet, answered, “almost!”

chan peeked his head inside, tilting it in confusion, “is something wrong?”

“it doesn’t fit.”

“what doesn’t fit?”

“the new shirt i ordered. i could’ve sworn i ordered it in my usual size…ugh!”

“oh that sucks, but…can’t you just wear another shirt?”

changbin groaned, “yeah, sure, i can. the whole point was to wear that shirt today.”

hyunjin appeared in the doorway, “do you need help picking out an outfit?”

chan explained the vague situation to hyunjin, and, during that time, changbin settled for a plain black t-shirt and denim jacket that matched his jeans. the car arrived to pick them up, so, with a final loud groan, changbin grabbed his favorite necklace from his dresser and headed out for the day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

as soon as you opened your eyes, you checked your phone to confirm today’s date. earlier that month, your soulmate, whom you only knew as “changbin,” sent you a custom t-shirt in the mail. when you unfolded the shirt, a cute handwritten note slipped out, telling you that it needed to be worn on a specific date because i’ll be wearing one just like it. it’ll be a long workday for me, so knowing that we’re matching will give me the strength to do well! please take a picture, so, one day, i can see how cute you look~~ thank you for being my good luck charm, my love <3

rolling out of bed, you smiled. you had never heard changbin’s voice, but you imagined he always had a bright tone. his messages were always so sweet. even if he sent you a glamorous gift, you cherished the handwritten note more than anything.

with your outfit completed, photo taken, and your mood at an all-time high, you decided to make the most of your day off. hoping the soulmate airwaves connected you, you thought let’s have a good day today, changbin! i’m rooting for you! as you stepped out your front door.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“all right,” chan sighed, stretching his arms, “i say we move onto the next track, yeah?”

jisung agreed, so changbin checked to see which song they needed to record next, “let’s see…ah, it’s jisung’s song, ‘volcano…’” changbin’s tone dropped, but he spoke again quickly, “who’s up first?”

changbin made a mental note to apologize to jisung later. it wasn’t jisung’s fault that they were recording the song he wrote about his soulmate on the one day when changbin ruined his attempt to have a cute moment with his soulmate. chan, sensing the shift in changbin’s energy, suggested they take a break. even the members who weren’t in a sour mood enthusiastically agreed, all shuffling out of the studio for some fresh air.

“changbin-hyung!” felix chirped, “want to walk with me? i could use some company!”

changbin couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his face. even in his worst mood, felix’s sunshine demeanor would win him over. as they walked, they chatted about the new animation felix was obsessed with, with felix re-enacting the most interesting parts. changbin’s shoulders relaxed, and he was grateful that the evening air and felix’s voice were so healing. standing at the edge of a slightly crowded street, changbin thought that maybe the bad day was behind him.

“what’s been on your mind today?” felix asked.

“it’s going to sound so stupid.”

felix shook his head, “no way! if it upset you, then it’s not stupid.”

“okay,” changbin sighed, “today, i was supposed to wear this one shirt, but i guess i didn’t pay attention and ordered it in the wrong size. normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but i sent y/n the same shirt. we were supposed to be matching today…kind of like a good luck charm.”

felix frowned, “i’m sorry. it never feels good when a plan doesn’t work out, especially an exciting one!” felix paused, and then grinned as brightly as he could, “you’re wearing the necklace y/n got you though! you’ve been doing great in the studio today, so that must be working like a lucky charm, right?”

“yeah, probably. it’s just…” changbin frowned, “hearing jisung’s song made me feel even worse. i’m so happy jisung met his person, but i can’t help that i’m jealous. i see how much better he feels on his bad days after he talks to his partner, and it hurts to know that i can only talk to y/n once a month through handwritten notes. it’s beautiful, and i love every word they share, but on days like today, it feels like it’s not enough…”

changbin’s voice trailed off, turning his head toward the opposite side of the street. maybe people-watching strangers could counteract the tears forming in his eyes.

felix rubbed changbin’s shoulder, “it’s okay to feel sad. i know you’ll meet y/n when the time is right, but that doesn’t make it any better in the present moment. maybe you can write out your monthly message to them tonight, if that would help?”

felix glanced over at changbin when he didn’t hear a reply after a minute or so, “changbin? are you with me?”

changbin stared down the street, captivated by someone wearing the exact shirt he was supposed to be wearing today. though his heart was racing, he doubted it was real. he had to be imagining it since he was thinking about you all day, right?

your eyes searched the crowd in front of you, as you were unable to shake the feeling that someone was looking right at you. you slowed your steps, scanning every face to find one you recognized. you were about to give up, but then a familiar necklace caught your eye. everything stopped when you met the gaze of the person wearing it.

it felt too good to be true. how could you just run into your soulmate on a random evening, in an area you’d only been to once or twice before? besides, he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as you, which he had planned. but that necklace looked exactly like the one you gifted changbin for his birthday. even as you doubted yourself, looking at the man in front of you gave you the feeling that he was the one you had been searching for all along.

you waved at him and asked, “changbin?”

you knew you were correct the second he started giggling and jumping up and down. you laughed, every cell inside you bursting with joy because there he is!

“changbin? what’re you…” felix followed changbin’s gaze, “oh my god! is that y/n?”

felix deciphered a yes!!! amidst all of changbin’s excited noises, so he nudged changbin, “stop waving and go say ‘hello’!”

changbin bounded towards you, unable to stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as the distance between you two finally disappeared.

“y/n! i’m so sorry i’m not wearing the shirt! i messed up and ordered the wrong size!”

you giggled at the pout that formed on his face, despite the look of pure joy in his eyes, “it’s okay, changbin! you look cute! besides, that would explain why this one isn’t in my usual size.”

“really?” changbin felt relieved, “so i didn’t mess up as badly as i thought?”

“no, not at all,” you shook your head, overwhelmed by the cuteness of changbin, your soulmate, “i can switch with you–since you must have mine in your closet–so we can match next time!”

changbin shook his head, “no way. you look way too cute in that for me to give you a different one.”

“should we share it then?” you joked.

“why shouldn’t we? we’re sharing the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”

you felt heat rush to your face at his words, bringing yet another giggle to changbin’s lips. you heard someone call his name with the news that they had to leave in a few minutes, which prompted changbin to get your contact information. the smile never left his face, even when he started to say goodbye. in his mind, nothing was more exciting than the fact that tonight, he could finally ask you how was your day, my love?

“i’ll talk to you later then, yeah?” you beamed.

“yes, please! i’m so sorry i have to leave right now, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“i do not doubt that, changbin.”

you waved, watching him walk in the direction he came from. after a few steps, he turned around to look at you again.

“what��re you smiling so much for?” you giggled.

“i guess you really are my good luck charm today, y/n.”

you felt butterflies swarm inside you as your laughs mixed, filling the crowded street with pure joy and endless possibilities.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

455 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 3 months ago

Text

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddiesongfics #exes to lovers #getting back together #angst with a happy ending

422 notes · View notes

jewelleria · 8 months ago

Text

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

707 notes · View notes

baptismbaby · 1 year ago

Text

† GOD, FORGIVE ME

mean!ellie williams x innocent!reader a/n: i also posted this on my ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: reader is an extremely innocent christian girl, blaspheming, corruption, drug dealer!ellie, petnames (pup is used in case anyone doesn't like that), fingering (r! receiving), belittling, toxic!ellie, oral (r!receiving), virgin!reader

creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the picture of ellie.

wc: 5.2k<3 part two here

You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the gates of Jackson on your horse. You had just finished up patrol and was ready to collapse in your bed. You looked over at Dina and smiled. “Man, I’m happy to be home.”

“Me too,” Dina agreed with a laugh. “Things got too intense out there.”

“Yeah, luckily I was there to save your life.”

Dina scoffed. “Oh, shut up. I had it but of course, you had to show off.”

You hopped off your horse and led it to the stables, passing it off to the man on duty. “Here she is,” you said. “Get your rest, Ginger!”

Dina said goodbye to Japan, running to catch up with you. “Hey, I forgot to mention but Jesse said he wanted to throw a party tonight. It’ll be small, not too many people at all.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A party? Really?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Jesse and his friends got some liquor and cups from Seth. Perfect timing too since everyone has the weekend off.”

“Dina,” you began. But before you could continue, Dina cut you off.

“I’m not saying you have to drink with us! I know you’re a good little Christian girl,” she joked.

You frowned. “Hey, that’s not nice.”

“Please come,” she begged. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.”

“What exactly do I bring to the table? It’s not like I can do anything,” you said.

Dina stepped in front of you and placed her hands on your arms to stop you. “Listen, just please come and stay for at least half an hour. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you or try to convince you to stay. I wanna have a good time with my friends and you’re one of my favorites. Please don’t let me suffer with all of Jesse’s friends. They’re… too male, almost.”

You sighed in defeat. “Ugh, fine! I’ll go if you really want me to.”

Dina clapped her hands in excitement. “Good! Come, I have some clothes you can borrow that’ll look real nice on you.”

You groaned as Dina pulled you by your hand, taking you to her place. She couldn’t contain how happy she felt. You never came to parties with her. They were rare and usually happened once every couple of months. Usually, you wouldn’t give in to Dina’s begging. You would just go home, curl up with a book and fall asleep before the party even began. Dina would come over the next day to tell you all the “sinful” things that went on. You didn’t understand what half of the things she said even meant, you were far too sheltered growing up and focused on reading the Bible most of the time.

“Who’s all gonna be there?” you asked as you walked inside her house.

“Well, I know Jesse’s whole group of friends are coming. Then there’s you, me, and…” she trailed off, looking away. You tilted your head to try and catch her attention. She fought hard not to look your way but you still kept trying to make eye contact until she finally looked at you. “Ellie,” she almost whispered. You sneered at the mention of the Williams girl.

“Ugh, I should’ve known,” you murmured. “Of course Ellie would be there.”

“Seriously, why do you two bicker so much?” Dina asked. “It’s like watching two kids fight over a toy. Or… really, more so like watching someone yell at a puppy for no reason.”

Your face fell. “Oh no… am I the puppy Dina? Please, don’t say I’m the puppy.”

Dina bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean… your comebacks are… something else.”

“What? Are you saying I can’t be mean?”

Dina couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face as she tried not to laugh. “You once said ‘bless your heart’ and that you’d pray for her.”

You scoffed as she broke into fits of laughter. “Hey, ‘bless your heart’ is the worst insult to receive where I come from! Sorry I felt bad afterwards and told her I’d pray for her!”

“Oh, I’m just messing. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell Ellie to cool it. I honestly don’t think she means anything by it. You’re just easy to tease,” Dina said as she made way to her closet. She pulled out a black longsleeve and extremely short shorts. “Here, wear this.”

You made a face at the outfit. “Is that not a bit… much?”

“Loosen up a bit! I think it’ll look real nice on your figure. Make the girlies pop out a little,” she said with a wink.

You undressed and put the outfit Dina gave you on. She was right but left out the fact that the shorts revealed too much, your ass practically hanging out. The shirt fell just above your belly button. Dina gawked at the sight of you. “Hey, you should dress slutty more often.”

You couldn’t help but to admire yourself in the mirror. You were big on dressing as modest and comfortable as possible. You didn’t realize you had curves until now. “Wow… I think I kinda like this?”

“What can I say, I’m a genius,” bragged Dina.

You and Dina arrived at the party an hour later. Jesse opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Dina grinned. “I know right?”

Jesse looked you up and down then back at Dina. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he said, complimenting the both of you. “Come in.”

As you walked in, everyone stopped and stared. “Holy shit, you clean up nice!” one of the boys exclaimed. You shifted and looked down at the ground, too anxious to look at anyone. You were way out of your comfort zone but a part of you sort of enjoyed it. Your eyes wandered over to the couch where Ellie sat. She was rolling a joint, paying no mind to you.

Dina walked over to her and leaned to whisper something in her ear. You stood there, watching Ellie’s face twist in disgust. You tried reading her lips, it looked like she said your name followed by the word “sensitive.” Dina smacked Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie began searching around the room until her eyes landed on you. Her eyebrows went up before turning to Dina. You couldn’t see her lips anymore but saw a smirk grow on Dina’s face.

Everyone took a shot and headed towards the couch. You followed, sitting on the ground next to Dina. You were kinda mad that to your right was Ellie, who now sat on the edge of the couch so the guys could sit next to her. She was so close that you could smell the soap she used. Ellie looked down at you, holding the joint out. Before you could decline, she passed it to the guy sitting next to her instead. “Shit, I forgot,” she said. “You’re too good to smoke.”

You glared at her smug face. “I don’t think I’m too good to smoke.”

“Well, you’re too good to drink.”

She reached over to grab an unopened bottle from the table. She grabbed two glasses and poured the liquor into each one. “I’m not too good to drink either!” you exclaimed, defending yourself.

Ellie chuckled. “Right,” she muttered. She went to grab the shot but you grabbed it first, downing it quickly. You coughed as it burned your throat.

“Woah,” Ellie blurted out sarcastically. “You took one shot, cool.”

You grabbed the other glass angrily and downed it too, slamming it back down on the table.

“Jesus!” said Dina, grabbing your shoulder. “Take it slow, you don’t wanna get sick.”

At this point, the joint had reached Dina. She passed it to you to pass over to Ellie but you took a hit instead. You inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out without coughing. You handed it to Ellie who had a playful smirk on her face. “Wow, I think I’m actually impressed.”

“Whatever,” you uttered, standing up to leave the circle. You went into the kitchen to take another shot. For some reason, you felt you had to prove to Ellie that you weren’t just a goody two shoes and that you could have fun. You knew that in order for the Jackson dealer to take you seriously, you would have to commit.

After a couple shots, you slightly stumbled back to the circle. Dina looked concerned until you giggled. “Oh, boy. This is great,” you slurred, your eyes heavy from the weed. Dina laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to let loose!”

You looked up at Ellie, who was looking further down than your face with furrowed brows. She looked back up and quickly turned away. “Lightweight,” she said.

“Oh, shut it, Ellie,” you snapped. “Just for a second could you please just shut up!”

Ellie laughed. “Good Christian girl suddenly thinks she’s the shit all cause she took a hit off a blunt and a couple shots.”

Everyone groaned, tired of the constant arguing between the two. Every time they were in a room with them, Ellie would make fun of you until you couldn’t take anymore and left. They knew Ellie wasn’t fully serious, she liked picking on you because she thought it was hilarious that you couldn’t take a joke. But part of her started to despise you without her knowledge. Everyone loved you. You were sweet and would pray with anyone who wanted to pray. You would give back to the community and greet everyone who walked past you. Ellie thought it was all an act and grew tired of it.

You, on the other hand, never liked Ellie. She was a dealer who spent all of her free time smoking pot and sleeping around. You didn’t think that was any way to live. You hated the influence Ellie had on your friends. Everyone thought she was funny. You couldn’t understand why.

“Let’s play never have I ever!” Dina suggested, an attempt to break the silence and to lessen the tension that built up in the room. Everyone agreed and put all ten of their fingers up. You followed along, waiting for someone to start.

“Okay,” Dina started. “Loser has to go streaking.”

Everyone cheered. You frowned, unsure if you still wanted to play. “But!” said Dina, causing everyone to be quiet. “Usually, you’re out if you put all your fingers down. But… whoever is left with the most fingers up is the loser.”

You nudged Dina, giving her a look. “You know I’m gonna lose,” you whispered. Dina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just lie.”

“I’ll start,” said Jesse. “Never have I ever… made out with someone on patrol.”

Everyone put their fingers down except you.

“Never have I ever… had sex during patrol,” Dina said. Almost everyone put their finger down. They looked at you, waiting for you to say something. You decided to take Dina’s advice and start lying to avoid being the loser.

“Never have I ever snuck out.”

You put a finger down along with everyone else. Ellie scoffed. “Yeah sure,” she muttered. “Never have I ever had sex.”

You put a finger down, knowing that wasn’t true. Ellie kicked your knee lightly. “Wow, you’re getting some? Tell me, who?”

You looked over at Dina, your eyes wide as you tried to come up with a lie. Some girl who passed through Jackson? Some girl you met before Jackson? Your head started to hurt trying to come up with an excuse.

“Who?” Ellie asked again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Girl,” Dina corrected. “She’s not attracted to men.”

You nodded, not really caring that Dina had outed you. You knew that you were surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge. Except for Ellie, even though she wasn’t straight herself.

Ellie looked genuinely shocked. “Really? Who’s the girl?”

You shrugged. “I’m not gonna name drop.”

“Because this girl isn’t real,” said Ellie. “Lying is a sin. You would know. You just don’t want to be the loser.”

“Hey, it’s not fair to lie,” one of Jesse’s friends complained. Suddenly, everyone started whining about how it was against the rules. Either you say who it was or admit that you’re lying. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. Ellie was grinning but it went away when she saw tears in your eyes.

“I��m teasing, man. Chill… don’t be a crybaby about it.”

“Fuck you, Ellie,” you spat out. A few people gasped, including Dina. She turned to Jesse, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt guilty for suggesting to play the game and for telling Ellie to be nice. Dina realized it just made her pick on you even more.

Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t feeling good about the situation either.

“You’re a real piece of shit,” you continued. “Always throwing religion in my face, being mean, just… why? Why target me? I’ve always been nice to you even though I have never, ever liked you! So, fuck you, Ellie!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have come here when I found out you were gonna be here too. Just give it a rest, Ellie. Grow up!”

You stood up and brushed your shorts off. You faced your friends who all sat back quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Sorry for ruining your fun, guys.”

You stormed up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. You collapsed on the bed, your head spinning. You felt awful for how you reacted but felt she deserved it. You were worried you ruined the party until you heard music along with everyone singing loudly.

You heard a knock on the door. You got up, cracking it open. You were expecting Dina but felt your stomach drop when you saw Ellie. You tried to shut the door but Ellie stopped it with her hand, shoving her way inside and slamming the door shut and locking it. “I’m not here to bitch at you, I want to talk to you.”

“You really want to make things worse?”

“You’re right. I am a piece of shit,” Ellie hissed. “I know I go too far teasing you but you take everything seriously!”

“You don’t know me, Ellie,” you mumbled, too afraid to speak up in case your voice cracked. “I won’t lie and say that I ever cared for you. I don’t like the way you choose to live your life but I still was kind to you. You never gave me a chance.”

“Because you act like you’re better than everyone!”

“How?” you shouted. “All I want is to make friends with everyone, spread a little peace and love in this shitty world! It’s comforting to me, Ellie! I don’t think I’m better than you or anybody. I enjoy making others happy and you enjoy making people miserable. Actually, just me. Because I have never seen you do this to others. You hate me and I wish you didn’t! I hear how Dina talks about you and I see how you laugh with your friends and I’m jealous. I know I could’ve liked you had you been friendly with me. Because I was angry at myself for judging you so quickly. It was wrong of me. But of course, I was right!”

You turned away from Ellie and sat down on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. “I felt I had to prove that I’m cool,” you continued. “I thought you would stop for just one night if you saw how cool I can be.”

“You want the truth?” Ellie asked.

“You’re always truthful. So, I might as well say yes even if I don’t really give a shit.”

“I meant it when I said I was impressed earlier.”

You scoffed. “Sure.”

“I can’t even take two shots back to back like that.”

“Stop teasing, Ellie. I am convinced that being torn apart by infected is less stressful than dealing with you.”

“Just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay? I’m leading into something.”

You flinched at her raised voice, slowly looking up to see her facial expression harden.

“I’m jealous of you,” she admitted. “I’m jealous that you can still believe in something and that you still care when everything is so fucked!”

You stood up, walking towards Ellie as she spoke. “I’d give anything, anything, to be that way. I had bitter feelings towards you. I think I wanted to tear you down so you wouldn’t be so… sweet. Giving, caring, everything I never could be.”

You watched her face closely, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth.

“I fuck girls like you and ignore them so they can hurt. Maybe I want the world to suffer with me,” said Ellie. “But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re too… good. I had to find another way.”

You paused as you connected what she said together. “Wait, you wanna…?” you trailed off, too shy to say it.

Ellie scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, I did… but you’d never do that.”

“I might have,” you said, almost feeling ashamed of how bold you were being. You never would have thought this sober but Ellie was really pretty. If the circumstances were different, you knew that she would be your type.

Ellie was taken aback by your statement.

“What?” Ellie questioned.

“Not now, since I know you would’ve ignored me.”

Ellie stepped closer to you, eyeing your body up and down. She thought you looked good tonight and couldn’t help but to peek at your tits when you weren’t paying attention, or your ass when you were turned away.

“I… know I would’ve back then,” Ellie whispered, getting even closer to you. She stood above you, watching as your face turned red. Your heart sped up. You wondered why your panties started to feel a bit wet at the sight of Ellie looking down at you. You usually never got turned on. Ellie was right, you were just a good Christian girl who didn’t do anything. You never even tried touching yourself. Since you were breaking the rules now, you thought maybe you could break some more and pray for forgiveness later.

“I’m not so sure now,” Ellie continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes.”

“A-Are you saying that in a bad way?”

Ellie shook her head. “When I first saw you earlier, I told Dina I kinda wanted to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched. “What did… Dina say?”

“That if I was nicer,” she said, stepping closer so there was almost no space left between your bodies. “I just might get to.”

Ellie caressed your cheek slowly. “Am I nice enough now, pretty girl?”

Your panties were soaked at this point. Your body trembled, afraid that you wouldn’t know what to do since it was your first time. Even though ten minutes ago you didn’t like the girl, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.

“I really… was lying earlier,” you mumbled.

“I know you were.”

“You don’t care that I’ve never… had sex before?”

Ellie smirked. “I’m glad you’ve never been fucked before. I want to be the one who corrupts you. I want everybody who fucks you after me to be a disappointment so you come crawling back. You’ll never find better than me, not even your own hand.”

Ellie leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. You pulled away to speak. “I don’t even do that…”

Ellie chuckled. “Really? Little church girl don’t know how to please herself?”

Usually, you would get mad at Ellie for saying stuff like that. Now, her insults just made you throb even more.

“Have you even kissed before?”

You bit your lip shyly and shrugged. “Not… really. When I was 13, a boy tried kissing me and I didn’t kiss back.”

“Aw, poor pup,” Ellie teased, running her fingers on the exposed skin of your tummy. “I get to teach you everything.”

Finally, Ellie collided her lips with yours. She was super gentle, placing her hand on your cheek and brushing it with her thumb. You melted in the kiss, pressing your thighs together to ease your aching cunt. The friction made it feel even better, causing you to release a soft moan into her mouth. Ellie pulled away, smirking at the noise you made. “I wanna hear more of that.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can do anything to make you feel good.”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You hesitated a bit before nodding. Of course you wanted that. You were just scared that you’d be bad at it since you had zero experience.

“Then let me fuck you. I get off to getting you off, understand?” asked Ellie.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Ellie praised. “Lay down, baby.”

You obeyed and laid down onto the bed. You watched as Ellie slowly took your boots off and dropped them onto the ground. “Lift your hips up for me?”

You lifted your hips and let Ellie pull your shorts off. Ellie bit her lip at the sight of your white cotton panties. She could see how soaked they were. “Look at that,” she breathed. You closed your legs to hide yourself but Ellie pulled them back open, holding your thighs down so you couldn’t move. “Filthy little girl,” she cooed. “What would God say about this?”

Your breathing started to grow heavier. “I-I don’t care what He would say,” you whined.

Ellie held back a moan that threatened to escape her lips. She pulled your panties off and threw them behind her.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Your pussy is so pretty.”

She tugged at your shirt until you got the hint to raise up. She lifted the fabric over your head and dropped it on the floor. You were completely naked while Ellie was fully dressed. She rolled her sleeves up, her eyes never leaving yours. She crawled on top of you and started making out with you passionately. Without pulling away, she started to unbutton her jeans and took them off swiftly. She shoved her knee against your dripping cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. She placed her hands on your hips and guided them up and down so you were grinding on her.

“Just like that, baby. Good girl.”

You started to moan louder, Ellie covering your mouth and shushing you. “As much as I want to make you scream, you don’t want anyone to hear and interrupt us, do you?”

You shook your head no. “Will you be quiet for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

Ellie pressed her knee harder on your pussy. You started to go faster, mewling and biting your lip to keep quiet.

“Such a good girl. You listen so well,” Ellie complimented. She took her knee away and brushed a finger up your slit. Your body jolted at the feeling. “You want me to taste you baby?”

“Please,” you almost cried out, desperate for whatever Ellie planned on doing to you. Ellie moaned at the sight of you squirming. She loved watching you unfold beneath her. To think she ever hated you was beyond her at this point. She wished she had done this sooner as she admired how beautiful you were.

“Say it,” Ellie demanded. “Use your words, pup.”

“E-Ellie, please” you begged. “F-Fuck me.”

Ellie tutted, shaking her head no. “I plan on fucking you anyway. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

You were confused. You’ve heard Dina say that Jesse would ‘eat her out’ but you weren’t sure what it really meant. Ellie saw the confusion on your face and laughed. “Wow, you’re too innocent.”

You started to sit up but Ellie pushed you back down softly. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized. “It’s okay that you don’t know what that means. I’ll show you baby. You want that?”

You nodded. “Yes, please show me.”

Ellie leaned down between your thighs and started peppering kisses all over them. You reached down to grip her hair as her lips got closer to your pussy. She flicked her tongue across your clit once and looked up at you. “Do you understand now, pup?”

“Mm, yes Ellie.”

She smirked. “You want me to continue?”

“Please?”

Ellie chuckled as she went back down to your dripping cunt, licking it all up and swallowing. She savored the taste of you, going back down for more. You grabbed the pillow beneath your head to put over your face in an attempt to muffle your moans.

Ellie stopped and yanked the pillow out of your hands. “They turned the music all the way up finally. You don’t have to be quiet anymore. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Ellie pressed her tongue against your clit and went back and forth between a circular motion and flicking it. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, your hands grabbing Ellie’s hair to pull her closer. She moaned against you, speeding her tongue up. She brought a hand up to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling on it. Ellie used her free hand to gently push one finger in. You yelped, yanking Ellie’s hair harder. She pulled away and licked her lips. “Too much baby?” she asked, out of breath. You shook your head no and pulled her back to keep going.

Ellie loved how tight you felt. The feeling of you gripping around her finger made her want to bend you over and fuck you with a strap. She wished the party was at her place so she could have used all the toys she had on you.

A feeling began to build up in your stomach as you trembled harder. “E-Ellie!” you moaned, bucking your hips upward as you got closer and closer to cumming.

“Come on, baby. That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

All of the sudden, your body began to convulse as your orgasm hit you hard. Ellie slowly fingered you, riding it out until you pulled away from her. She brought her finger up to your mouth, forcing it open and shoving it down your throat. You sucked on her finger with a moan.

“Such a good girl,” Ellie praised, elated with how quickly you catch on.

“Wow,” you mumbled, out of breath from all the noises you made. “Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my virginity to you.”

Ellie sent you a sly smile. “I never knew I’d take it.”

You raised up slightly, leaning against Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you still going to be mean to me?”

Ellie sighed. “No, baby. That’s all over now.”

“Good. Do I put my clothes on now?”

“Why do you have to ask for my permission?” Ellie questioned with a laugh.

You giggled. “Well, I like… asking you.”

“Well, then no. I think I want to fingerfuck you some more. Can you take that?”

You froze, looking up at her with a fucked out expression. You were exhausted but didn’t want your time with Ellie to end. “Mhm, I think so.”

Ellie leaned back a bit and grabbed you. “Come lay in my lap, baby. Ass up.”

You complied and laid down, arching your back in excitement. Ellie rubbed her hand over your ass, squeezing tightly as you moaned. “Tell me, did you pray for me?”

Before you could ask what she meant by that, she shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped as she fucked you with them slow and hard. “That one time when you got mad at me for making fun of you, you said you’d pray for me. Did you?”

Ellie sped her movements up as she went deeper inside you.

“Fuck!” you yelled out, trembling and kicking your feet at the feeling.

“Answer me, pup, or I’ll stop,” Ellie threatened.

“Yes!”

“Yes what, baby?”

“Yes! God, yes, I prayed for you!”

Ellie went even faster as you got closer to cumming again. “Atta girl, such a sweet pup. Praying for a sinner like me.”

“Ellie! Fuck! I-I prayed for you everyday!” you babbled, unable to speak without getting interrupted by your own sounds of pleasure.

“Yeah? Told God how bad you wanted me? Told Him all your dirty thoughts, you filthy slut?”

You moaned louder, bucking your hips up towards Ellie . “Yes!”

“You’re gonna ask for forgiveness, aren’t you? Like the good Christian girl you are.”

“Mm, yes, Ellie,” you whined, your orgasm about to take over you.

“Then ask, baby, ask.”

“God, forgive me please,” you said in between moans as you finally came undone for her. The force of you cumming shook your entire body and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t help but to repeat Ellie’s name until you started to come down, your body almost collapsing onto her lap.

“Good girl.”

Ellie helped you up onto your feet, your legs shaking. “Let me help you get dressed,” she offered.

As Ellie helped you into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Ellie? Did I… make God mad at me?”

Ellie stopped, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes. “Who could be mad at an angel like you?”

You blushed, removing yourself from her grip and tugging your shirt over your head. You put your shoes on next and sighed, looking up at Ellie with a tired smile. “Do we say anything?”

Ellie shook her head no, quickly fixing your hair so it wasn’t obvious what happened. “Just say we talked and you forgave me. I had one hell of an apology,” she uttered with a goofy grin. You laughed softly.

“So, you’re not gonna ignore me, right?”

Ellie wrapped her arms around you for a second before stepping back, eyeing you up and down while heading towards the door. Your heart stung, wondering if maybe Ellie didn’t mean what she said before.

“Come by tomorrow night,” said Ellie as she turned the knob. “I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t question me again.”

Ellie left you standing there, your mouth open in shock. You waited a couple minutes before heading downstairs to the party.

“Hey,” you heard Dina call out to you. She grabbed your hand and looked at you with concern. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Ellie. It just made her worse. I begged her not to talk to you but-”

“Dina,” you interrupted. “She explained herself and I explained myself. We’re all good.”

Dina looked surprised. “What? Really? You forgave her?”

You looked behind Dina to see Ellie back on the couch, staring at you with a grin as she puffed on her joint. You smiled at Dina and nodded. “Of course I forgave her. Her apology was genuine and…”

“What did she say?” Dina pressed on.

You shrugged. “I can’t remember everything she said but it was one hell of an apology.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #smut #tlou2 #ellie williams tlou2 #mean!ellie #drug dealer!ellie #ellie x fem reader

3K notes · View notes

yourstru1y4ever · 30 days ago

Text

Day 9 - “Open your mouth.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 973 Content: Fluff, Gojo being Gojo (I think that’s a fair warning), a little taste of Gojo and Reader taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki after they graduated from Jujutsu High! Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: I definitely didn’t miss a day, what are you talking about??? (No I did and it was because I tried contacts for the first time ever. It gave me such a horrible headache, but I’m doing better today which is nice. I know I still need to complete day 3, 4 and now 8; I’m on it, don’t worry!)

October 2008

“Gojo, we need to go home.”

“The kids want a snack, don’t you guys?” Gojo looks back at Tsumiki and Megumi. Megumi just rolls his eyes at Gojo while Tsumiki trips over her feet. You quickly grab her hand before she falls over. You shoot a glare at Gojo as he gives you an embarrassed smile.

“We should eat though. It’ll bring back our energy!” Gojo mentions as you all come to a stop right in front of a cafe.

“How convenient.” You mutter, “Fine but we should get home soon, it’s nearing the kids bedtime.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Gojo smiles, “Bedtimes and all that- let’s eat!”

He practically shoves you all into the cafe, but you can’t complain. You were starting to feel hungry and you knew that your patience would keep getting shorter the longer you went without getting something to eat.

Gojo puts all of your shopping bags to a little fourtop and sits down. You bring the kids with you in tow and give him a look as the kids join him at the table.

. . . “What?”

“You’re sitting down,”

“So?”

“You wanted to eat here. You order the food.”

“What?! But I bought all of the clothes today.”

“And we didn’t even make a dent in your fortune.”

“Hmmmm,” Gojo looks into the bags, “I think we might have.” He nods his head. Tsumiki holds back a laugh while Megumi deflates in his chair. Megumi gets out of his chair and goes to hold your hand.

“I’ll help.” He tells you.

“Thank you Megumi, at least someone will help me out.”

Gojo’s face drops, “Wha-?” He looks over at Tsumiki who starts giggling.

“Maybe I’ll help you too!” She mentions through her fit of giggles.

“But who will watch over me?!” Gojo asks exasperatedly, throwing a hand to cover his eyes in a dramatic way. You bring a hand up to your head and try to rub the oncoming headache.

“Tsumiki it’s alright, someone does need to look after Satoru after all,” He perks up, “Do you just want your usual?”

“Yes-”

“I was talking to Tsumiki, Gojo.”

“HA?!”

“Yes please!” Tsumiki responds. You nod your head at her and take Megumi up towards the counter. As you’re waiting in line you lift him up and have him sit on your hip, knowing how tired he’s been. He wouldn’t show it intentionally but you could tell it’s been a long day for him too. His eyes have been drooping and his head keeps snapping back straight up.

When you pick him up at first he goes stiff, unsure of what’s happening, but as you get him in a good position he relaxes, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting his legs go around your torso. Once you get up to the counter, you buy four hot chocolates, a few sandwiches, a slice of cinnamon coffee cake and a blueberry muffin (putting it all on Gojo’s card of course).

As you walk over by the waiting area you take a glance at Gojo and Tsumiki. She’s coloring something in one of the coloring books that Gojo bought for her a few weeks back and Gojo is sulking. You shake your head, he’s probably upset that you didn’t ask for his order.

Your name is called and you go to grab the order, “Ready Megumi?”

He nods his head as you put him back onto the ground. You both walk up to the counter, you pick up the tray with the four hot chocolates and hand it to him, “You got it?”

“Yeah,”

You smile at him as he carefully walks back to the table, careful to not spill any of the hot chocolate. You grab the food you ordered as well as some forks and knives and quickly follow behind Megumi. Once you both make it to the table, Gojo smiles seemingly done sulking. You place everything on the table and give both kids a hot chocolate and their sandwiches.

They thank you and start eating quickly. You hand Gojo the cinnamon coffee cake and you start to eat the blueberry muffin. Before Gojo takes a bite of the cake, you quietly moan, covering your mouth. You didn’t mean to moan but with how delicious the food is you couldn’t help yourself.

It was utterly decant and just what you needed for a snack.

You see Gojo open his mouth in shock, nearly dropping his fork but quickly grabbing it again. You give him a confused look and he gives you a smirk.

“Here~” He holds out the fork with a bite of the cinnamon coffee cake.

“What are you doing? You never share.”

“I want to this time. Come on,” He tilts his head to the side, his smirk getting wider (if possible), “Open your mouth.”

He brings the fork closer to your mouth and against your better judgment you do as Gojo says. You bite down on the fork and he takes it out of your mouth, waiting to see your expression.

You bring a hand up to cover your mouth, but your eyes go wide and then they close as you savor the flavor. It wasn’t like anything you’ve eaten before, just pure and utter bliss. You sigh contentedly and open your eyes to see Gojo looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No-

Tsumiki and Megumi look at each other knowingly as you and Gojo continue to avoid talking about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Maybe one day Gojo will actually admit to himself that he had feelings for you, but for now he’ll keep teasing you until you lightly hit him. Because you’re never truly that mad at him, because maybe you have feelings for him too.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #Satoru Gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #tuna tober 2024 #ITS NOT LAST MINUTE FOR ONCE!!

188 notes · View notes

chlix · 2 months ago

Text

sharpest tool

bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it

genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues

a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀

“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.

“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.

“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”

You stiffen. “It’s going.”

She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.

“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”

“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”

“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.

That’s what makes this all so difficult.

The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.

“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”

Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.

“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.

Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.

Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.

Hey

Busy tonight?

Never for you <3

My place? 8?

It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.

Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.

You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.

It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.

Ok <3

You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.

You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.

You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.

“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.

“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.

“Missed you more.”

He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.

Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.

The illusion shatters.

You pull your lips away from him.

“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.

“Chan, stop.”

He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”

“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”

“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”

“Okay…”

He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”

You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.

Okay. Okay okay okay.

You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.

“You want your usual?” he asks.

“You still remember my usual?”

“I remember everything about you, love.”

You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.

When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.

“This okay?”

You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.

As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.

I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.

You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.

Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.

I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.

Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.

And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.

“How’s work?”

“It’s been alright.”

“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”

Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”

You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.

“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”

“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”

“Well what have you been watching?”

“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”

“Right. You said you were busy with work.”

He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.

You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.

When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.

“Your hair’s getting long.”

“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”

“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”

He glances at you shyly. “You think?”

“I know. You look adorable.”

“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”

“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.

“Don’t think what?”

Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.

“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”

Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”

Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”

“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”

“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.

“Okay. Whatever then.”

You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.

“Whatever?”

The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.

“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”

“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.

“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”

That same twisting in your gut starts up again.

“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”

“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”

It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.

You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.

That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.

You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”

Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.

“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”

You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.

“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.

The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.

Get well soon, girl.

You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.

“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”

“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”

Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.

“You’re sure.”

“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”

He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”

You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.

#skz x reader #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #skz imagines #short n sweet album series

182 notes · View notes

ariseur · 1 month ago

Text

✧˖° - haven’t posted in little over a month so i decided to show you guys i’m still alive by posting this random nanami thing i wrote even though it’ll only get like 12 likes 😭 i just had an idea and went with it lol

your lashes barely flutter open as you struggle with the journey of trying to stay awake, at least until the midwife had come back from rinsing and checking on your newborn.

swollen eyes dart over to kento, who stays admiring you with a comforting hand resting on your own clammy, sweaty palm. he almost huffs at the situation when he looks at your tired smile; you don’t even know how fast he urged ijichi to drive back here.

he returns the gesture with his own soft quirk of his lips, a genuine gesture that only you were privy to seeing. you observe his face, seeing the soft wrinkles that are slowly starting to settle in despite only being in his early thirties. this job really does age you, you think — and you can tell that he thinks the same thing.

“can you believe it?” your voice comes out raspy, torn from all of the yelling and gritting of your teeth only an hour or so earlier. it feels surreal to believe you’ve born life into this world, forever a permanent mark it’ll make of you.

“hm?” kento hums, hazel eyes trained on your legs which are currently sheathed under the salmon colored sheet that covers the hospital bed, though you’re pretty sure he’s just zoned out.

“you’re a dad,” you add. he doesn’t say anything to that, only giving a small nod at your statement.

his thumb runs along the bones of your own, the metal of his rings warmed from the constant contact you two have maintained. you frown at the red marks on his hand, presumably from all the squeezing you had done to him — although, he did take it like a champ, not even wincing. he’d never tell you he just had to toughen up for you, internally crying at the tightness he had endured from his fingers. he shouldn’t have expected any less from a sorcerer, though.

“you’re a mother,” he finally looks up at you. you can swear you see a slight gloss forming in his eyes.

you grinned. “so, all those jokes gojo used to make in our third year ended up being correct.” even with such low energy, you were never so serious. though, he had always loved that about you.

“i had always known i was going to marry you, gojo had no part in it,” he responds coolly.

lips parting in a small ‘o’ of surprise, you look back at him before your shock wears off and is instead replaced with a brash grin.

“such big talk for someone who didn’t ask me out until we had already left.”

“i, at least, had gathered the courage to talk to you,” kento hums, “unlike a certain someone.”

you huff and lean back against the pillows, your head lolling against the plushness of the one right under your neck whilst you looked up at the florescent lights flickering above you. “i could talk to you,” you mutter a weak rebuttal — letting your eyes rest shut only in anticipation that you’d see nanami’s unenthused ‘really?’ face.

“i don’t recall that ever happening,” he scoffs fondly at you.

“i just gave birth and you’re already teasing me.”

“is it really teasing if you know it’s true?”

your lips purse into a soft pout, sighing through your nose as you look away to the heart monitor as you hear the quiet, steady beeps that come along with your deep breaths.

“you do remember what happened that one time we visited gojo’s dorm, right?” his smile only widened by the moment. you held an arm over your face with a small groan, wincing at the aching feeling that had settled into your lower abdomen. “you mean when he had just gotten done flaunting his new console?”

“yes,” he hums. “with all of the others.”

you frown a bit at the mention of, “the others,” — thinking of the times when it would just be you and your friends and letting your mind drift off into the pool of memories that used to surround you in your highschool years.

“c’monn, nanami will be there,” you had heard gojo’s voice ring throughout your ear canal, flinching away when you realized he was behind you.

scoffing, you stuffed your hands in the pockets of your uniform before continuing to walk forward. “what about it?”

a lanky, rich polyester clad leg comes into your view. you let out a small groan when he had stopped you, once again.

“don’t think i don’t see the way you look at our blonde haired friend over there.”

“i don’t look at—“

gojo pressed a finger to your lips with a loud bundle of shushes, closing his eyes behind the cerulean lenses that framed his sharp nose. your eyebrows furrow — opening your mouth to speak again before he beats you to it.

“i got you, i’ll be the best wingman a lady like you could ever ask for,” he grins.

“gojo, i don’t need—“ although, your voice was but a meek mutter to his ears whilst he sauntered away, back to find shoko in hopes of annoying her once more ( it wasn’t the first time, and it would definitely not be the last ).

and between those next few hours, you somehow ended up sitting against the tatami mats of gojo’s dorm, well decorated and lightly colored. it was fitting for him, you think back to it now. your knees tucked to your chest as you listened to utahime complain about how annoying the missions she’s being sent on are.

“why can’t we get another vacation? i hate having to go through all of these assignments all the time,” she muttered; her head leaning against the cushion couch.

“life of a sorcerer,” you chuckle.

“you’re not even an official sorcerer yet.”

“neither are you, ‘hime.”

“touché,” she scoffed.

the small moment is interrupted by suguru’s voice wavering as he leans from side to side, trying to focus on not getting hit with a bombshell in mario kart on the new snes gojo had bought. you look at him, smiling at the way the snow-haired man kept trying to bump into him to make him lose. you could swear you heard shoko yell out a few words to try and mess the both of them up, to which they’d whine when one of them would inevitable fall over the edge ( it was always gojo ).

your eyes would only drift when you heard shuffling beside you, catching an eyeful of blond and a familiar head of a brown bowl-cut, too.

it blurs now, the memory.

and it is soon interrupted by the soft calls that leaves kento’s lips, the reverie soon seeping back into the vault of your brain once you meet honeyed eyes with a pair of your own.

you can feel his pulse in his fingertips as he squeezes against your hand, the warmth seeping in his words as it pumped along his veins — his only fuel after a life like this.

your lips part in thought before you hear a soft knock at the door and a voice excusing their interruption, the both of your heads immediately perking up towards the door. a small gasp leaves you once you see the small bundle that the midwife holds in her arms; sheathed, chubby little arms wriggling around within the blanket.

kento’s breaths come out shaky, although he tries to focus his energy into his fingers, balling up the rough material of his pants in his sweaty palms.

a fresh wave of tears wavers at your lash line, threatening to spill along the warmth of your cheeks. a soft coo’s emitted from the bundle as you finally see the face of your newborn son, painted with serenity as his eyes stay shut.

a small patch of slicked hair lays atop the baby’s smooth head, lightly colored with the hue of your own strands. “congratulations,” you hear the midwife tell you, “did you have a name in mind?”

the sight of her figure remains blurred with your own tears, but you’re sure she’s smiling with the tone of her voice. you reciprocate it, using one hand to wipe at your puffy eyes while the other beckons the woman to lend your baby over.

and once she finally does, it’s like a breath of fresh, new air. seeing the little face that belongs to the being in your arms, feeling his warmth through the blanket, seeing his tiny little fingers aimlessly reaching out in front of him. you choke back the urge to let out a sob.

surprisingly, kento does it for you.

it’s soft, barely audible — you wouldn’t have even noticed it if it wasn’t for the sharp gasp that left him afterwards. your hand finds his again, the way it always did. the way it always will.

his head comes into view as he peers down at the baby, scooting right next to you as he sees you thumb at your son’s cheek.

your brain warps with a golden memory at the front of it, a sweet smile paired with a peculiarly put together uniform — brown hair in your focused view while you heard another familiar voice behind him. the same monotonous inflection he had used, always contrasting with his friend.

you smile fondly, looking up at kento. “i like yuu for him, don’t you?”

hazel eyes flit up to meet yours, hooded and crinkled with the years of work he’s been put through. they sheen in the light ( you fight the urge to ask if he’s crying, you know the answer anyway ), glossed over with dilated pupils.

his cheeks hurt. he grins back at you softly, and then looks up at the expectant nurse.

𐙚 comment to join the taglist; @ch3rryfiles @sad-darksoul @kasumitenbaz

𐙚 requests are open — october 2, 2024

150 notes · View notes

bunniwords · 3 months ago

Text

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xviii - masterlist - part xx xix. loser in a hot body

wc: 2.6k + smau

bunni speaks — WE ARE BACK!! i know y’all waited for a while but i wrote this chapter twice…. i hated how i wrote it the first time so i thought i’d start with a fresh mind… enjoy! the next chapter is also going to be written + smau so it’ll take a bit for me to write it… plus my work schedule the next couple of weeks are filled so it’ll probably take a while. in the mean time, i’ll probably post drabbles i have in my notes.

︶︶　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

when soobin looks back at the last couple of months, he wondered how things ended up as they are now. never had he ever imagine liking someone he met online nor did he even think he’d meet up with anyone he befriend online. this predicament that he got himself into now was even stranger. he was meeting you, who he met through his stan account but the catch was you didn’t even know you were meeting him as well.

“ten minutes and then we’re starting send off.”

great. he thought.

soobin can feel his nerves getting to him. he’s been itching the back of his neck nervously since he got off stage. he would be wetting his lips so much throughout that concert that he could feel them peeling. seeing you from the small distance at the concert was one thing, but now he had to actually speak to you and he can’t even do it as someone you’ve known the last few months.

but despite all of that, he couldn’t wait to see you, hear you even. the idol had spent so much time listening to your voice through a screen that he wondered if it sounded any different in person. his heart beats faster imagining your face in front of him.

“hey, you good?”

snapping out of thought, soobin looked up and saw that it was yeonjun checking up on him.

“yeah, just nerves,” he answered.

“hm, not y/n?” the older raised a brow at him, “it’s okay to be nervous. you like her.”

“i just hope she doesn’t think i’m weird or anything, you know as soobin.”

jun hummed and thought about it for a moment.

“i know it’s hard to separate yourself from the person she knows you as and the person you are in person, but they’re both the same person. she just doesn’t know that you’re famous. she already likes you as you are and is even willing to meet you without knowing what you look like,” yeonjun explained, “so, i think she’ll like you, even as soobin.”

letting his words soak in, soobin nodded. he was right. you were willing to meet him without knowing who he really was or what he looked like, so to some extent, you should be okay with him being famous, right?

“alright, time to go guys,” the staff shouted into the room.

him and the rest of his group mates came out and there were so many people in the vicinity, but automatically, his eyes found you. your arms were linked with tsuki and your head was resting on her shoulder. the concert was long, so he could imagine how tired you were. you were draped in the txt hoodie that was being sold today. it was practically shallowing you, but you looked so comfortable.

his heart swelled looking at you. probably because he was feeling giddy thinking about how he had the same hoodie you were wearing. it was like you were wearing his hoodie. soobin tried lingering his eyes elsewhere to distract himself but he couldn’t help finding his way back to staring at you.

when he got closer to your section, he could feel your eyes watching him. soobin tried to focus on whoever was in front of him, but you standing there in anticipation had him completely distorted. half the words he was saying to fans were mindless. he’d continuously say thank you and take photos with fans, but he didn’t even know what he was saying thank you for nor did he remember the faces he was taking photos with. normally, he’s really good at remembering fans and interacting with them but today is so different.

you were right there. five feet away from him.

things were happening so fast because one minute he was thinking about how far you were and another minute his manager was pushing him right in front of you. soobin froze at the abrupt shift, eyes glued a little too long at your stature.

“hi,” you shyly held your hand up short, “um, the girl behind me is a really big fan of yours so i’ll let her talk to you a bit.”

and suddenly, it felt as if he got slapped in the face. he wanted so badly to pout and frown at the suggestion, but he was here to do a job.

you shifted your head over slightly, leaning closer to hoshi who linked arms with you so you wouldn’t get pushed and fall. soobin slowly (and internally unhappily) nodded his head at your request before interacting with the fan behind you.

if you thought he couldn’t hear anyone before, he definitely wasn’t hearing anyone now.

all the voices around him were muffled until his manager poked at him to see if he could move on, but when soobin took one more look at you, he didn’t want to.

“um, could you sign this for me before you go?” you nervously asked him while handing him a small trading card.

even if it was this much attention, soobin was satisfied. suddenly, all the other mixed feelings he had were magically washed away.

“i would love to,” he said with the biggest smile on his face before looking down at the card to see it was a megumi trading card.

soobin started laughing, “what is this?”

you paused for a moment, staring at him. as soon as soobin seemed comfortable with himself around you, his voice also seemed more relaxed… and way more familiar. like you definitely heard this voice before.

“it’s a megumi card. my friend is a huge fan of yours but doesn’t like megumi very much. i thought it would be funny,” you explained.

he held his smile the entire time of you explaining and nodded his head as he signed the photo card he knows was meant for him. when he handed it back, you quickly smiled at him once more, thanking him, but couldn’t shake off the feeling that you know his voice.

“did you want a photo?” soobin asked you, “you know to make your friend jealous?”

shocked he even offered, you didn’t answer until tsuki shook your arm to come back to reality.

“s-s-sure,” you stuttered then turned to hoshi, “let’s use your phone.”

soobin grabbed his phone, not caring that he was told specifically that he wasn’t allowed to take photos with iphones and got really close to your face to take a photo with you (though he did his best to cover the back of the phone with his palm). he couldn’t even hear the other people around you squealing in jealousy at how close he was to you, but you definitely could and was turning red from the attention. soobin took one last photo of him looking at you and you trying to hide your face in your palms before handing the phone back to hoshi and getting scold at by his manager for holding an iphone.

as he was walking over to the next set of people, you confessed to your friends, “i thought he was going to take a group photo of us.”

now, he was the one blushing, embarrassed on how he only thought about you at that moment, but despite of that, his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest from being that close to you. soobin was obsessed with how your eyes had to look up at him for the two of you to make eye contact and he genuinely believed that you looked so pretty in person. he didn’t think it was possible for you to look prettier.

soobin isn’t normally good with feelings, but he definitely liked you. probably more than he had ever anticipated.

when you first saw the group come in, you were honestly exhausted already from the concert, but adrenaline did hit when soobin was closer into your view point. tsuki made sure to take many notes of how he couldn’t stop looking over at you, surely convinced that that boy was smitten over you. soobin wasn’t really being slick about it because he’d scanned the area every time it was time for him to move to the next group of fans to look for your face, and you noticed it more this time than the concert. even you, who was always in denial, had to believe that soobin was paying a little bit too much attention to you.

“why does he keep looking over here?” you shyly asked tsuki.

“girl, get ready to sign an nda,” tsuki chuckled.

“i can’t do that! i’m going to see soo in a few days,” you explained while hitting her arm.

“not even for choi soobin?” hoshi asked you, “he’s definitely into you.”

“yeah, plus, you and the megumi hater aren’t even a thing. so, you can definitely get with this megumi hater.”

“alright, tsuki, just break my heart or whatever,” you crossed your arms and faced towards hoshi.

“stop being dramatic,” tsuki laughed and pulled you back, “i’m just saying.”

when soobin finally made his way to you, you noticed the shimmer in his eyes as he looked at you, sending chills down your body. you felt like he looked at you like he knew who you were. but that wasn’t possible, right?

or he probably mistaken you for someone else. either way, you promised the girl behind you that you’d get her photo card signed for you but you wanted to be nice and let her have her moment with him instead.

so, why did he look so down when you did that? even the shimmer you saw earlier faded, but as soon as you asked him to sign your megumi trading card, the life came back into him. it actually seemed like he knew you, but the odd thing about it was why did he also seem so familiar to you as well?

soobin’s voice was definitely a voice you knew and you couldn’t put your finger on it. well, you did spend the last few weeks learning their songs and watched some of their shows on youtube so you were able to recognize them, but this was different. he sounded like someone you knew.

when he got dragged away by his manager in the end, you asked both your friends if they heard his voice before outside of txt, but they had no idea what you were going on about.

before you could really press them on it, yeonjun was making his way towards your group and the screams around had gotten louder. this experience, although it was still fun, reminded you of why you don’t go out into crowded places often let alone a concert.

yeonjun laughed seeing how you had your hands covering your ears and jokingly mocked you with his hands on his ears as well.

“cute,” yeonjun said as he grabbed some photo cards around him to sign and continued to give his usual fan service.

you had to admit that yeonjun was good at it too, and he was really funny when interacting with fans since he has a really reactive face and knew the right things to say for entertaining interactions.

“i love the mamushi dance challenge you did with gyu. it was my favorite,” you complimented while clapping your hands together.

“baby, i’ma star,” he jokingly sang while did a few moves briefly which caused some girls behind to squeal (again), “we actually did it because soobin originally wanted to.”

“soobin?” you raised a brow, “why didn’t he do it?”

“he took about 20 takes but was never satisfied with any of them,” yeonjun chuckled, “you should ask him to show you… oh like um, on weverse or something.”

you nodded your head. you doubted he’d ever see your message if you posted it on there, but also you didn’t want to tell him that you didn’t have the app in the first place.

“is soobin your favorite?” yeonjun (bluntly) asked.

“no, it’s kai,” you replied rather too quickly, which caused him to laugh.

yeonjun held his hand up for a high five. was this some moa insider joke? you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t know what was going on, so you high fived him and yeonjun held onto your hand.

“kai is pookie bear, so i get it,” yeonjun said before he was interrupted with soobin coming back into your section, which made yeonjun let go of your hand.

“sorry,” soobin said as he moved yeonjun behind him, “um, did i leave my pen cap somewhere here?”

tsuki raised a brow before pointing it right on top of the pen he was holding.

“oh, right. sorry,” he sheepishly apologized before (firmly) patting yeonjun’s back to push him forward, “i’ll get back to where i was. yeonjun’s behaving, right?”

“hey. of course, i am,” the older idol smirked before nudging soobin towards his manager who looked like he wanted to put him on a leash.

“i can’t believe you held her hand!” soobin threw a pillow at yeonjun.

the concert was well over and the whole gang was in yeonjun’s room to debrief on what happened. normally, everyone goes to their respective room after eating, but let’s be honest: this whole group was completely nosy and wanted to talk about y/n and what happened during the concert and send off, especially what soobin was thinking.

“force of habit! i’m sorry! we’re at a fan event,” yeonjun tried defending himself but soobin was already trying to suffocate him with a pillow (playfully or not so playfully, he was still deciding).

“yeonjun held her hand?” kai asked.

“you shouldn’t be talking! i saw you going in for a hug!” beomgyu exclaimed while pointing at him, which earned him a slap on his arm from taehyun.

“are you trying to get him killed? you see what he’s doing to jun right now?” he whispered.

“you what!”soobin whipped his head at the youngest who held his hand up in defeat.

“wait! wait, she asked for one! well, her friend asked for her but i can’t say no,” kai explained.

soobin was definitely stressed out and his features filled with jealousy. his friends got to hold your hand and hug you before he could. the betrayal. he felt like twenty years have been taken from his life. it was unfair. he barely had a minute conversation with you and they got to lock fingers and embrace? they might as well go out into a meadow and frolic in a field of flowers (clearly, his imagination is running wild).

“alright, calm down,” taehyun said, “how was seeing her?

“i’m not telling you guys,” soobin pouted, “you guys are the worst.”

beomgyu sighed and stood up, “guess i won’t tell you what she said about you… well, i’m tired. we gotta do this thing all over again tomorrow so…”

“stop there,” soobin said with an ambitious tone, “what did she say?”

he only shrugged as he made his way to the door, but soobin’s long legs really helped him leap towards there before him, completely blocking the exit.

“spill.”

beomgyu raised a brow, “now you want answers? okay, so how was seeing her for the first time?”

soobin frowned and almost cringed just thinking about admitting his feelings towards you in front of the guys. he’d rather let beomgyu go with whatever information he might have on you than to openly say what he thought about you when he saw you. taking a step out of the way, soobin lets him leave.

“i’ve never seen soobin be silenced so fast,” kai commented.

“the power y/n holds is so real,” yeonjun added.

#soobin x reader #txt x reader #soobin smau #soobin x y/n #soobin x you #txt imagines #txt smau #txt x you #soobin fic #txt x y/n

277 notes · View notes