#yeah there will probably be a part two i just wanted to get this out there

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?” ⎯ how to lose a bet and your heart in seven days.

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . things just get more interesting when you're fake-dating the hot nerd and are involved in a bet with him.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ ����em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 64OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ hihi >< so like, part two hehehehhehehe. this turned out to be literally double the wc from the previous one..... oh and i just crossed 8OO followers???? what???? like two posts ago i crossed 7OO, oh good lord, thank you so much!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

you had never seen jeongin this stressed in your uni year.

it had been barely a day since the dinner, and he was already acting like his life was spiraling out of control. not that you blamed him—you were a handful, after all. but still, the man looked like he was fighting for survival, while you?

you were thriving.

not only were you fake-dating him in front of his family, but thanks to him, you also had the perfect bet to keep things interesting.

and now? now, you were at the usual café on campus, sitting comfortably with your group—felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho—while absolutely basking in the aftermath of your deal with jeongin.

the blonde leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "so let me get this straight," he began, voice amused.

"you made a bet with the yang jeongin—topper, nerd, absolute try-hard—where you get to flirt with him for three whole months, and if he falls for you, you win?"

you grinned, stirring your latte lazily. "mhm."

ryujin raised a brow. "and if you lose?"

you waved a dismissive hand. "then he gets to ignore me forever, i guess."

yeji snorted. "as if he'd actually do that. boy’s definitely gonna lose."

minho, who had been silently observing all this time, sipped his americano before finally speaking. "you're really confident, huh?"

you flashed him a smirk. "min, have you met me? of course, i'm confident. i know he’s gonna fall for me. i learn from the best, you know."

felix grinned. "well, duh. everyone loves you."

yeji smirked. "hyunjin and jisung sure do."

ryujin laughed. "oh yeah, didn’t hyunjin say you were literally his type?"

you shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "maybe."

felix gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "oh my god. is this why jeongin is acting so feral? is he jealous?"

"no, he’s probably just pissed that i exist."

minho scoffed. "that’ll change soon enough."

"exactly," you said smugly. "so, obviously, i’m winning this bet. there’s no way i’m falling first."

your friends exchanged looks, all of them barely holding back their very obvious amusement.

"sure," yeji said, lips twitching.

"of course," ryujin agreed.

minho sipped his drink again. "i totally believe you."

felix just grinned. "this is gonna be fun."

meanwhile.

jeongin had never been this mentally exhausted in his life.

one dinner. one stupid dinner. that was all it was supposed to be.

now? now he was fake-dating y/n in front of his entire family and locked in a three-month bet that would undoubtedly ruin him.

and to make things worse? jisung, seungmin, hyunjin, aeri, and yunah were not helping.

"bro," hyunjin was saying, leaning against the café booth with a stupid grin, "you’re done for."

"over. finished." jisung added, looking way too entertained.

jeongin shot them both a glare. "i am not going to fall for her."

hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "really?"

seungmin, ever the realist, merely sighed. "jeongin, have you met y/n?"

"yes, seungmin," jeongin deadpanned. "i have. unfortunately.*"

yunah giggled, twirling her straw. "she’s really pretty, though."

aeri smirked. "and hot. and cute. and bold."

hyunjin nudged jeongin. "she literally calls you 'hot nerd.' i would’ve folded instantly." he said, dramatically putting a hand on his heart while pretending to faint.

jeongin shot him a disgusted look. "you have no standards."

jisung snorted. "and you have no chance."

"i hate all of you." (and we're back !!)

"no, you don’t," jisung said, grinning. "you hate that you know we’re right."

seungmin nodded. "statistically speaking, you're screwed."

"oh my god," jeongin muttered.

jisung clapped his hands together. "alright! place your bets! how long do we think it’ll take for jeongin to fall first?"

"two weeks," hyunjin said immediately.

"a month," aeri guessed.

yunah smirked. "three weeks, max."

"one week," jisung announced proudly.

jeongin slammed his drink down. "i hate every single one of you."

almost a week later.

you found jeongin in the library, because of course you did.

dressed in an oversized cream sweater, silver-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose, black slacks, and expensive-looking loafers, he looked annoyingly good for someone who spent all his time studying.

unfortunately for him, you were here to ruin his peace.

sliding into the seat across from him, you grinned. "morning, iyennie."

jeongin didn’t even look up. "no."

you gasped dramatically. "no? that’s all i get? where’s my 'good morning, beautiful?' my 'you look stunning today, y/n'?"

jeongin exhaled sharply. "why are you here?"

you leaned forward on your elbows, smirking. "to see my lovely boyfriend, obviously."

jeongin twitched. "we are not fake-dating at uni."

you shrugged. "doesn’t mean i can’t flirt with you."

jeongin dragged a hand down his face. "i hate this bet."

"you literally proposed it, genius."

his jaw clenched. "i hate you."

you batted your lashes. "no, you don’t."

jeongin physically recoiled. "oh my god."

across the library, hyunjin and jisung sat at another table, watching the interaction with matching grins.

hyunjin nudged jisung. "one week?"

jisung smirked. "one week."

. . .

“i’ve decided that i’m going to end you.”

jeongin barely looked up from his notes. “cool. try not to be too obvious about it.”

“no, really,” you said, leaning forward across the library table, resting your chin on your hands as you stared at him. “i’m going to make your life miserable.”

jeongin finally glanced up, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses with the most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. “isn’t that what you’ve already been doing?”

you gasped, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “wow. that was hurtful, iyen.”

jeongin twitched. “stop calling me that.”

you grinned. “make me.”

his fingers curled around his pen, and for a second, you wondered if he was genuinely considering launching it at your forehead.

the library was quiet, aside from the occasional whispers of students flipping through books, the dull hum of the air conditioning, and the muffled sounds of footsteps against the carpeted floor. your table was nestled in the back corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves and dim lighting that gave the whole setting a very academic romance kind of vibe—not that jeongin would ever admit that.

and, of course, the two of you weren’t alone.

like said earlier, across from you, at another table, were felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho, watching with way too much amusement.

they can't miss good entertainment, right?

and a few tables away, jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri, and yunah, were also watching with expressions that ranged from entertained to downright smug.

because, honestly? no one believed jeongin was going to win this bet.

not even jeongin himself.

"are you done?" he asked, voice clipped, flipping a page in his notes.

you smirked. "not even close."

leaning back in your chair, you crossed one leg over the other, watching him with open interest. he was dressed as he always was—annoyingly fashionable for someone who didn’t seem to care about fashion. a fitted black turtleneck, an oversized houndstooth blazer, tailored slacks, and his signature silver-rimmed glasses that rested so perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

his black hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration all morning (which, knowing you, he probably had).

"you know," you mused, tilting your head, "if you weren’t so insufferable, i’d probably have a crush on you."

his pen hovered mid-air, his lips parting slightly before he turned to glare at you. "what?"

you shrugged. "what? i’m just saying. you’re kind of my type. hot. smart. dresses well. severely grumpy. i like a challenge."

jeongin’s eye twitched. "w—"

"oh my god," hyunjin suddenly groaned from across the room, throwing his head back. "can you two just kiss already?"

jeongin immediately choked on air.

your lips twitched as you turned to hyunjin. "not yet, jinnie. i have a bet to win, remember?"

hyunjin smirked. "oh, you will win. no doubt about it."

jisung laughed. "he’s already halfway there."

"this is a library, hello?" the librarian hissed.

"but we're the only ones here, miss y-"

jeongin slammed his book shut, stood up, and turned to you with murder in his eyes. "we’re leaving."

you blinked innocently. "we are?"

"yes." he grabbed your wrist and tugged you up from your seat, ignoring the very loud, very obnoxious oooohhhhhs coming from both friend groups.

felix gasped. "look at him. so dominant."

"i didn’t know he had it in him."

"they grow up so fast."

seungmin merely shook his head, unimpressed. "he’s just running away."

jeongin glared at all of them before practically dragging you out of the library.

now playing, if you love me by colde

the late afternoon sun draped the campus in warm, honey-colored light, stretching long shadows across the pavement. the air was crisp but comfortable, carrying the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café nearby. a few students walked past, caught up in their own conversations, but none of them paid much attention to the very mismatched pair walking down the sidepath.

jeongin was suffering.

because you were practically dragging him.

"y/n," he grumbled, his arm stiff as you held onto his wrist. "why are you like this?"

you hummed, pretending to think. "born this way, i guess?"

jeongin sighed, shaking his head. "no remorse. none at all."

"absolutely none," you confirmed cheerfully, still leading him forward.

he didn’t know where you were taking him. you probably didn’t either. but that didn’t seem to matter to you. it was just one of those things—where you decided something, and everyone else just had to go along with it.

he really should have thought this through before making that bet.

the sky was beginning to shift into soft hues of orange and almost blue when jeongin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and immediately stiffened.

his mom.

he stopped walking so abruptly that you almost crashed into him.

"whoa—" you blinked at him. "what’s wrong?"

he held up a finger. "be quiet."

you snorted. "like hell."

"y/n."

you grinned, unbothered, as he answered the call.

"hello?" jeongin said, his voice immediately shifting into something softer, more polite.

"oh, jeongin! how are you, sweetheart?"

you gasped dramatically beside him. sweetheart?

jeongin shot you a look. a warning. a plea.

you ignored it completely.

"hello, ms. yang!" you chirped before he could stop you, leaning in way too close to the phone. "how are you?"

there was a pause on the other end.

and then—

"oh, y/n, dear! how lovely to hear your voice!"

jeongin closed his eyes. no, no, no—

you beamed. "aw, you're so sweet. it's lovely to hear yours too!"

jeongin wanted to die.

his mother laughed. "such a charming girl! i hope my son is treating you well?"

you turned to him with the smuggest smile, tilting your head. "oh, he’s wonderful, ms. yang. so sweet. so attentive."

jeongin gave you a blank stare, deadpan. you? a menace.

his mother sighed happily. "ah, that's good to hear. oh! that reminds me—jeongin, darling, you haven’t forgotten about next weekend, have you?"

jeongin blinked. "uh… next weekend?"

you raised an eyebrow, watching him.

"the family gathering, jeongin!" his mom continued. "your uncle’s wedding anniversary celebration. you have to come. and of course, you must bring y/n!"

jeongin froze.

you?

you? (i'd be offended)

he turned to you so fast you almost thought his neck might snap.

you, on the other hand, were staring at him with way too much excitement in your eyes.

he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to stay neutral. "oh… right. that."

you leaned in, lips parted in interest.

ms. yang laughed. "don't tell me you forgot?"

jeongin exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his temple. "i… might have."

you gasped. "baby!"

he glared.

"oh, don’t worry, dear," his mom said, brushing past his frustration entirely. "it’s going to be a lovely event! you must come with him, y/n! i won’t take no for an answer."

your grin widened.

jeongin knew that look.

it was the look of pure evil. the look of someone who had just won. (no he just read too many comics)

you placed a hand over your heart, feigning surprise. "oh my gosh, ms. yang, really? you’d want me there?"

"of course!" his mother said immediately. "you’re practically family now!"

jeongin almost choked for the umpteenth time that day.

you looked so pleased.

"well, in that case," you said sweetly, "i’d love to come. wouldn't want to disappoint a lovely lady like you, ms. yang."

ms. yang sighed, completely oblivious to his suffering. "wonderful! oh, i knew i liked this girl!"

jeongin shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. why him?

"alright, sweetheart, i won’t keep you two," his mom said. "make sure to text me later, okay?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. "bye, mom."

"have a good evening, ms. yang!" you called cheerfully.

the call ended.

silence. and then—

"you evil, evil woman," jeongin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

you grinned. "aw, is my baby upset?"

"don’t call me that."

"oh, but i must," you teased, tapping his arm. "we are dating, after all."

jeongin groaned.

you rocked back on your heels. "sooo. a family event, huh?"

"shut up."

"your entire family is gonna be there?"

"y/n—"

"and your relatives?"

jeongin exhaled slowly, praying for patience. "yes."

you beamed. "god, i love this bet."

jeongin stared at you. "why are you enjoying this?"

you shrugged. "because you're not."

his eye twitched. "i hate you." (.........yeah, yk the drill)

"you love me."

"shut up."

you giggled, nudging his arm as you started walking again. "come on, hot nerd. we have so much planning to do."

jeongin sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he followed after you.

he wasn't going to lose this bet.

he wasn't.

but, why did it feel like you had already won?

—

the city was beginning to glow.

golden streetlights flickered on, one by one, casting soft halos onto the pavement. neon signs buzzed to life in the distance, painting the skyline in hues of red, blue, and green. the cool evening air carried a mix of scents—freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, the faint spice of street food stalls setting up for the night, and something softer, like rain on warm pavement.

and in the middle of it all—you and jeongin.

he was still following you, albeit begrudgingly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"are you actually planning on telling me where we're going?" jeongin asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

you only grinned, walking a little ahead of him, as you turned around, still walking backwards, facing him. "nope."

he sighed. "of course not."

as the two of you had left the campus a while ago, jeongin had expected you to stop at the nearest café, maybe a convenience store. but instead, you kept walking. past the busy streets, past the familiar landmarks, past the places where most students usually hung out.

and now?

now, you were leading him through quieter roads, where the buildings weren't as tall, where the sky was starting to open up above you, where the city lights didn’t drown out the stars entirely.

it was weirdly peaceful.

not that he'd admit it.

"you're too trusting," jeongin muttered, watching as you walked ahead of him without a care in the world.

you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "oh? and why's that?"

"you’re just… walking around at night, alone, dragging me—your supposed fake boyfriend—to some unknown location." he narrowed his eyes. "for all you know, i could be leading you into danger."

you let out a soft laugh. "oh, please. if anyone’s the danger here, it’s me."

jeongin rolled his eyes. "right."

"you think i'm scared of you, topper?" you smirked, nudging his shoulder. "you’re, like, the least threatening person i’ve ever met."

"good," he said flatly. "that means i can stop pretending to tolerate you."

you gasped dramatically. "so rude! and here i was, thinking we were bonding!"

"bonding?" jeongin scoffed. "you kidnapped me."

you hummed, tilting your head. "wouldn’t call it kidnapping. more like… involuntary adventuring."

"that’s literally just a fancier way of saying kidnapping."

"details, details." you waved a hand dismissively, your bracelets jingling softly.

jeongin shook his head, but there was a small—very small—curve to his lips.

for a while, the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. the only sounds were the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement, the occasional passing car, and the distant chatter of city life.

"you come here often?" jeongin asked suddenly, his voice softer now.

you glanced at him, slightly surprised by the question. "hmm?"

"wherever it is we're going," he clarified, watching your expression closely. "you seem… familiar with the way."

you hesitated for a second, but then you smiled. "yeah. i do."

he studied you, noticing how your fingers fiddled with the strap of your bag—a small, almost absentminded gesture. "alone?"

"sometimes." you exhaled lightly, looking up at the sky. "other times, with my friends."

jeongin didn’t miss the slight shift in your tone. it was subtle, but it was there.

"and tonight?" he asked, glancing at you. "why me?"

you turned your head toward him, meeting his gaze.

and for a moment—just a moment—you didn’t say anything.

the city lights reflected in your eyes, turning them into something almost ethereal. the night breeze played with the loose strands of your hair, making them dance against your cheekbones. there was something unreadable in your expression, something jeongin couldn’t quite place.

but then— you grinned.

"because i felt like annoying you," you said simply.

jeongin blinked. and then scoffed. "wow. and here i thought i was special."

"oh, you are," you teased, looping your arm through his before he could react. "you're my favorite victim, actually."

he stiffened. "y/n—"

"you’re warm," you interrupted, pressing closer. "a human heater. i should keep you around more often."

jeongin let out a very long sigh, tilting his head toward the sky like he was asking some higher power for patience.

"you're insufferable," he muttered.

"and you are cute."

"shut up."

you giggled. "ooooh, that blush is telling me a different story."

jeongin groaned, refusing to meet your gaze. "i hate this bet."

"you love this bet."

he side-eyed you. "you know, i think you might be evil."

you only winked. "oh, honey. i'm very aware."

and the walk continued like that—small banter, stolen glances, the occasional brush of hands when neither of you were paying attention.

jeongin hated how natural it felt.

hated how easy it was to talk to you.

hated how, despite himself, he was actually curious about where you were taking him.

he didn’t get attached.

he didn’t, right?.

but with every teasing smile you threw his way, with every time your fingers lingered against his, with every moment you laughed at something he said—

he started to wonder.

maybe jisung had been right.

maybe this bet was a really, really bad idea.

the view you chose for me

the path sloped upward, curving gently along the hillside. the city behind you had slowly started to fade, the buzzing neon signs replaced by the soft hum of cicadas, the distant rustling of leaves, and the whisper of the evening breeze. the sky above stretched out like a painting, shifting from the last golden hues of sunset into the deepening blues of twilight.

jeongin slowed his steps, glancing at you. "are we almost there?"

"patience, iyennie," you hummed, walking ahead with a skip in your step. "good things take time."

he rolled his eyes, but a small, amused exhale escaped his lips.

then, finally, the world opened up.

the trees thinned, revealing an expansive hilltop that overlooked the city. a vast, open field of wild grass spread around you, swaying lightly in the wind. the horizon stretched endlessly, where the last golden threads of daylight kissed the deepening night. below, the city twinkled like scattered stars, a soft, pulsing glow of blues, oranges, and whites.

and above, the first stars had begun to appear.

tiny, glimmering specks against a sky that seemed endless. wisps of deep indigo melted into shades of violet, streaked with soft pinks from the remnants of the sun. there was something ethereal about it—something quiet, untouched, almost unreal.

jeongin exhaled, barely noticing how his breath caught for a second.

you, on the other hand, stretched your arms out with a dramatic sigh. "isn't it beautiful?"

he glanced at you.

the wind had tousled your hair, strands of it floating like silk against the dim light. your face, turned toward the sky, was bathed in soft twilight, the shadows curving gently along your cheekbones. your eyes reflected the distant stars, and when you smiled—

your lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin, and your eyes crinkled into tiny crescents.

something in jeongin’s chest lurched.

"yeah," he murmured before he could stop himself. "it is."

you turned to him, blinking. "see? told you it was worth it."

jeongin tore his gaze away, clearing his throat. "it’s… alright."

you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "wow. that almost sounded like a compliment, yang."

"don’t push your luck," he muttered, walking past you.

you grinned, plopping down on the grass before patting the space next to you. "sit. enjoy the view."

he hesitated.

then, with a small sigh, he sat down beside you, the grass cool beneath his palms. the air smelled faintly of earth and rain, the breeze gentle as it curled around both of you.

a moment passed in silence, the two of you simply staring at the sky.

you reached into your bag, pulling out a small snack box.

jeongin glanced over. "what’s that?"

"food, obviously," you teased, opening the lid. inside, neatly packed, were a few triangular onigiris wrapped in seaweed. "can't survive without snacking every moment,"

you picked one up and held it out to him. "here. i made these this morning."

jeongin blinked. "you cooked?"

"is it so surprising? i'm a good chef, i'll have you know." you frown, and wiggled the rice ball in front of him. "c’mon. try it. first time making them, so i need honest feedback, topper."

he hesitated, eyeing you for a second before reaching out to take it.

and that’s when it happened.

you looked at him—waiting, expectant, your expression filled with the kind of excitement that was so genuine it almost startled him. the soft glow of the evening light traced the edges of your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the arch of your brow, the slight parting of your lips. your lashes cast tiny shadows against your skin, and when you smiled, your dimples deepened, your eyes turning into crescents once again.

jeongin—

forgot to breathe.

for a fraction of a second, he didn’t care about the stupid bet. didn’t care about the fake dating, or the fact that he was supposed to be annoyed by all of this.

all he could think about—

was how pretty you looked.

and then—

you turned your gaze back to the sky.

the moment broke, like ripples in a pond.

jeongin blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look anywhere else. he bit into the onigiri, trying to act normal.

it was good.

really good.

but he wasn’t about to inflate your ego, obviously.

"it’s… okay," he mumbled.

you frowned, clutching your chest. "just okay?"

he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "i’m just being honest, like you asked."

you narrowed your eyes, then suddenly leaned in closer, way too close. "are you lying?"

jeongin stiffened.

you were right there, inches from his face, eyes locked onto his like you were searching for the truth. the scent of vanilla and something faintly floral drifted from you, and jeongin—

had to grip his knee to keep himself from leaning back.

"i—" he swallowed. "no."

you hummed, tilting your head. "hmm. suspicious."

then, before he could react, you grinned.

"well, i think i did an amazing job." you leaned back, stretching your arms behind you. "maybe i should become a chef. quit university. open a cute little café. i’d call it ‘y/n’s love bites.’"

"love bites?" jeongin actually choked on air this time.

"hey, careful!" your eyes widened, your hands immediately burying into your bag, pulling a bottle out. you hand it to him, after opening it.

"what? is it not a nice name?" you pout at the look he gave you after gulping down the entire bottle, still coughing.

"really though? love bites?"

"mhm." you laughed. "because.. love bites. and because i’m good at biting. and love. and actually, love b-"

"god forbid a man wants to have a snack in peace."

you burst out laughing. "jeez, relax, iyennie. i’m kidding."

"you’re really insufferable."

"and you are fun to tease." you winked.

jeongin groaned, looking away.

but his ears—

were very, very red.

—

the stars were out in full now, scattered across the endless stretch of the night sky. the city below twinkled in response, as if the lights of the world and the heavens were competing for brilliance. the grass beneath you both was soft, slightly damp from the evening air, but comforting in a way that made neither of you want to move.

the silence between you had settled into something familiar—not awkward, not tense. just there. a moment where neither of you had to fill the space with meaningless words.

but then again, you’d never been one for silence.

"so," you started, shifting slightly so you faced him, "i realized something."

jeongin barely glanced at you, still watching the stars. "what?"

"i don’t know anything about you."

he raised an eyebrow. "you know plenty."

"mm, do i?" you leaned back on your palms. "i know you're stinky smart. i know you have the ability to make even professors shut up with a single argument. i know you have the fashion sense of a pinterest model and the patience of a grandma stuck in traffic."

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "that’s oddly specific."

"am i wrong?"

"…no."

"exactly." you grinned before tilting your head. "but i mean, i don’t know you. like, i don’t know what makes you tick. what makes you.. you. i don’t know what you wanted to be when you were a kid, what your childhood was like, what your favorite memory is."

jeongin stayed quiet, eyes flickering toward you briefly.

you rested your chin on your knees, watching him. "i wanna know."

"you’re way too curious."

"and you’re way too closed off."

he sighed, shaking his head. "you don’t need to know all that. we’re only dating in front of my parents. not here."

"yeah, well, i want to get to know you," you said simply. "and this is completely unrelated to the whole fake dating thing. it can be platonic, you know? i just think it’s unfair that you probably know way more about me than i do about you."

jeongin looked at you, thoughtful. "do i?"

"you tell me, topper."

his lips twitched slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering something. then, with a small sigh, he leaned back on his elbows.

"alright. what do you want to know?"

your eyes lit up. "anything?"

"within reason."

you hummed, thinking. "okay. what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

jeongin let out a short laugh. "you’re gonna make fun of me."

"oh, now i really have to know."

he rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "i wanted to be a detective."

your eyebrows shot up. "no way. detective yang jeongin?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered. "i used to love mystery novels as a kid. thought i’d grow up solving impossible cases, catching criminals, the whole thing."

you grinned. "that’s actually kind of cute."

he scoffed. "yeah, well, then i realized i’d have to deal with actual crime, and i was like, ‘yeah, no thanks.’"

you burst out laughing. "you wanted to be sherlock holmes but without the danger?"

"pretty much." he shrugged. "so i settled for something else."

"which is?"

"business and english."

you made a face. "oh so we're almost twinning?"

"i thought you knew?"

"um no? we barely share any other sessions, only sometimes, business."

"well that's because we have different batches, genius."

"huh. when's yours?"

"at nine."

you clicked your tongue. "good lord, typical topper behavior."

he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "alright, your turn. what did you want to be as a kid?"

you hummed. "i went through so many phases. i wanted to be a singer, a poet, an author, a fashion designer, a painter… i was all over the place."

jeongin’s eyes softened slightly. "you’re still kind of all those things."

you blinked, caught off guard, ready to fight. "excuse me?"

"no, i mean, you write. you sing. you compose. you’re always dressed like you just walked out of a magazine." his voice was casual, as if he wasn’t just casually complimenting you without thinking.

and for some reason—

your heart stumbled a little.

you quickly recovered, clearing your throat. "well. somebody is paying attention."

he smirked. "unfortunately."

you gasped, nudging his shoulder. "and here i thought we were having a moment."

"you should know better by now," he teased, but there was something gentle in the way he said it.

you huffed dramatically. "fine, whatever. but i thought walking out of a magazine was your thing?"

"i wouldn't mind someone appreciating fashion, darling."

"...moving on. next question. what’s your favorite memory?"

jeongin hesitated for a second. then, with a small exhale, he said, "when i was ten, my family took a trip to japan. we went during the cherry blossom season, and i remember standing under this huge tree, just watching the petals fall. it felt like…" he paused, searching for the word. "magic."

your lips parted slightly.

for a moment, you could see it—ten-year-old jeongin standing under a sea of pink, eyes wide with wonder, cherry blossoms falling around him like soft whispers of a dream.

"you still remember it that vividly?" you asked softly.

"yeah." he looked up at the sky. "some moments just… stick with you."

your chest ached a little at that.

you didn’t know why.

you shook off the feeling. "well. that’s a very wholesome memory."

he smirked. "what were you expecting? something embarrassing?"

"maybe," you admitted, grinning. "but i like this one, too."

a comfortable silence settled between you again.

"what about you?" he asked.

you blinked. "huh?"

"your favorite memory."

you smiled slightly, hugging your knees. "i have a lot of good ones. but, if i had to pick, maybe…" you trailed off, thinking.

jeongin waited patiently.

you finally spoke. "back home, we used to have power outages a lot. and whenever that happened, my mom and i would sit outside with candles, just talking. we’d make shadow animals on the wall, tell stories, and drink warm milk while waiting for the lights to come back."

jeongin listened intently, his expression unreadable.

"it was such a simple thing," you murmured, "but it always made me feel.. safe."

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

then, finally, he said, "that sounds.. comforting."

you glanced at him.

there was something warm in his eyes, something quiet and understanding.

and for the first time that night—

you weren’t thinking about the bet.

you weren’t thinking about how you were supposed to be fake dating in front of his parents.

it was just the two of you.

sitting under the stars.

sharing pieces of yourselves you never expected to.

and somehow— it didn’t feel fake at all.

it was peaceful.

you were still determined to learn everything about him.

not just for the bet.

not just for fun.

but because, if you were honest, he intrigued you.

and you always liked figuring people out.

so, after a few minutes of silence, you spoke again.

"so," you started, shifting slightly to face him, "we were talking about memories."

jeongin glanced at you. "we were."

"you know what we weren't talking about?" you raised an eyebrow. "your love life."

he scoffed. "love life? who said i have one?"

you gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to your chest. "wait, no way. don’t tell me you’ve never had a girlfriend before, iyennie."

"i literally told you i've never been on a date.. like on day one." he shot you a look. "also, don't call me that."

"i think you know that i don't believe that," you grinned. "also, i will always call you that."

he exhaled through his nose, clearly regretting ever agreeing to this conversation. "i’ve had one."

you perked up. "so you did!" your eyes lit up with curiousity. "so, one? as in, just one?"

"yeah."

"how long ago?"

he hesitated for a second. "three years."

your mouth dropped open. "damn, that’s—wait. that means you’ve been single since you were—"

"yeah, yeah," he cut you off, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just… haven’t really been interested in dating since."

"interesting," you mused. "so what happened?"

jeongin sighed, clearly debating whether to answer.

then, after a moment, he said, "she was.. nice. we just weren’t meant to be, i guess."

you narrowed your eyes. "that’s such a boring answer, yang. give me details."

he smirked slightly, shaking his head. "you’re really nosy, you know that?"

"and you're really secretive." you tilted your head, watching him. "it’s okay if it.. ended badly. you can tell me."

he was quiet for a beat, then finally spoke.

"it wasn’t bad, exactly. we just had different priorities," he admitted. "she wanted a lot more attention, a lot more time together. and i was…" he paused, exhaling. "i was too focused on school, my goals. she got frustrated. said i didn’t care about her enough."

you hummed. "did you?"

he frowned slightly. "i did care about her."

"but maybe not in the way she wanted," you guessed.

jeongin gave you a look, as if surprised at how quickly you caught on. "yeah."

you nodded, thoughtful. "so, you’re the kind of guy who expresses love in actions, not words, huh?"

he blinked. "i guess you could say that."

"noted." you grinned. "i’ll expect a bunch of favors and free tutoring sessions as proof of love."

he rolled his eyes. "we’re not in love."

"not yet," you teased.

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "you really think you’re gonna win this bet, huh?"

"oh, i know i will," you said smugly. "face it, topper, you like me."

"i tolerate you," he corrected.

"that's what they all say," you laughed. "give it time."

for a moment, he just watched you, his gaze unreadable. then, shaking his head, he muttered, "unbelievable."

you turned your attention back to the sky. "alright, next question."

"you’re not done interrogating me yet?"

"of course not. i’m just getting started." you shot him a smirk. "so, mr. future ceo, what’s something you’re actually passionate about? like, not just academically."

he hesitated.

you raised an eyebrow. "you do have hobbies, right? you don’t just study for fun?"

"of course i have hobbies," he muttered.

"well?"

"…i like music."

you blinked. "wait, really?"

he nodded. "yeah. i don’t do it as much now, but i used to sing trot with my grandparents all the time when i was younger."

you stared at him, genuinely surprised. "you? music?"

"what’s so shocking about that?"

"i don’t know! you just seem like ‘i only study and occasionally judge people’."

"well, i do judge people." he smirked. "i also kinda life photography, for some reason."

"really? so he likes singing and photography? what kinds?"

"mostly landscapes. architecture. things that don’t move too much."

you hummed. "so, no people?"

"not really." he glanced at you. "though… i think i’d like taking pictures of someone if they were interesting enough."

you tilted your head. "like who?"

for a second, jeongin didn’t answer. his eyes flickered over your face, something unreadable in his expression.

then, with a small smirk, he simply said, "dunno. haven’t found them yet."

your stomach did a weird little flip.

you cleared your throat. "huh. well. you should show me your pictures sometime."

he shrugged. "maybe."

you nudged his shoulder. "that means yes."

"that means maybe."

"sure, sure." you grinned before shifting topics. "alright, what’s your biggest ick in a person?"

he smirked slightly. "besides you?"

"rude," you huffed.

he pretended to think. "probably… people who pretend to be someone they’re not."

you nodded. "yeah, i get that. fake personalities are exhausting."

"what about you?"

you didn’t hesitate. "people who can’t communicate."

jeongin raised an eyebrow. "that’s… a very mature answer."

"right?" you sighed dramatically. "like, if you have a problem, just say it. why do people make everything so complicated?"

jeongin chuckled. "agreed."

there was a pause before you added, "also, people who wear socks to bed. they scare me."

he burst out laughing. "what? why?"

"i don't know, it just feels wrong!"

"you’re insane," he said, shaking his head.

"maybe. but at least i’m not a sock-sleeper."

jeongin laughed again, and for some reason, the sound made your chest feel warm.

the conversation continued, shifting from childhood stories to embarrassing moments, from random questions to deep musings.

at one point, you found yourself just… watching him.

the way his dimples appeared when he smiled.

the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

the way his gaze softened ever so slightly when he looked at you.

and maybe, just maybe—

you were in trouble.

but you weren’t going to admit that.

not yet.

for now, you were just a girl sitting under the stars with a boy who was supposed to be your fake boyfriend.

and yet, somehow—

it didn’t feel fake at all.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie IV

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: slow burning!!!

Warnings: ANGST violence. CW: Signs of abuse.

Summary: Harry is very hot. Very sweet. VERY protective.

“Hey everyone,” she greeted brightly. “How’s everyone today?” She asked while setting down a tray of eight glasses and two pitchers of water on the table.

“Wonderful, baby, so excited to have you.”

She nearly knocked the glasses over (fortunately, since they were water glasses, they were only plastic). She made eye contact with him and felt her heart completely stop for a few beats. Kael smiled wickedly in return.

Fuck.

She kept her smile in place. “What can I get you to drink?” She asked. After eight years, she already knew what he wanted so she focused on his teammates.

“We were hoping to see The Chargers tonight,” Kael told her. “Do they come here often?”

She didn’t respond. “We have a few specials tonight, so if you have any questions, please let me know,” then she sauntered away to place the drink order.

“Already know what I want, baby?” He called. “That’s so sweet!”

She ignored him. Taking deep breaths she headed to the kitchen. Louis wasn’t in yet. Harry didn’t know she was working. Which meant the rest of the team thought she wasn’t working too. Marc and Michael probably had their suspicions that she was with Harry. So, no one knew she was there. Not really.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was probably just going to be an hour. He had his team with him. It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Yeah, he would probably tease and torture her for the better part of that hour, but she could be civil. She could pretend. She had for ages. He didn’t know she was working for The Chargers—she was sure he had an idea that she might be. But the afternoon set it in stone.

He was such a dick. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since she moved out. Everything about him made her skin crawl and she hated it. Every touch and kiss between them seemed tainted now. All those good memories, dates, hockey games, everything felt ruined. Each interaction was colored now with the hindsight that he didn’t love her. Not the way she did. Not the way she expected him to love her for ever and ever. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She knew she didn’t deserve that.

So why did he make her feel undeserving of it ever again?

*

Kael and his teammates came and went fortunately. Just as she predicted. Only a little over an hour. She refrained from speaking directly to Kael and focused on the group as a whole.

When Kael left, she was well past the feeling of relief. There should have been a stronger word for how liberated she felt. She used the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a moment to process everything. It was just like Kael to come in and make her feel like shit without even trying. Louis was supposed to be in, so at least she had that going for her.

“Hey love,” Louis called. “Everything good?” She probably looked a little shaken, so she wasn’t surprised he asked. She felt shaken.

“Good,” she smiled assuredly. She flitted around the room, ducked behind the bar, and went about her day. It was a busy night, and she wasn’t going to let Kael sour her shift that he had next to nothing to do with. So she didn’t. The next hour ticked on quickly and she was feeling more herself as the time stretched between Kael’s departure and the present.

“Hi baby,” he cooed.

Her arms felt numb almost instantly, she was lucky she didn’t drop her tray. Her fight or flight swept her and just made her freeze. She turned as she had earlier in the day and looked at him. “Hi,” she said curtly. He was alone, which made her nervous.

“I figured you must get a break soon. I’d like to talk.”

“Not for a while. And it’s busy,” at least that wasn’t a lie. “So I might not take one tonight.”

Louis was hurrying about from kitchen to back room, to front of house. It was busy as it could be, but she wanted to keep an eye on him. If Kael got her alone, she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her emotions as well as if she had someone that knew she was not in a situation she wanted to be in just by looking at her. Louis wasn’t Harry, but he would know all the same that she was uncomfortable.

Kael smiled brightly.

Well, at least someone that cared ifshe was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait,” he offered.

“Great,” she deadpanned.

She went to the back room and wished that there was a group of Chargers there. If she called any of them, she knew they would break curfew and be there for her in a heartbeat. The thought of Kael anywhere near her would make Callie incensed for ruining her day. Niall would be protective in his own way and focused on her. Asher and Lang would get her away from The Locker Room and make sure Kael never set foot there again.

She could hardly imagine what Harry would do to him.

But she lied. She told Harry that she wasn’t working. The routines the boys had had in place prior to her arrival with the team had been disrupted more than she ever anticipated. It was nice they cared but it wasn’t fair to them to upheave their lives for her. She was just the photographer for the team. Their coach’s niece. They didn’t ask to have someone they needed to babysit.

She was an independent, self-sufficient person.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked.

She nodded and flitted around the room taking order and tried not to think about the feeling of Kael’s stare on the back of her head.

*

It was perhaps another hour, and Kael was true to his word in staying put. Fortunately, The Locker Room remained steadily busy. She didn’t have to lie about not taking her break. She foisted him off on another waiter who grew a little tired of him asking for her each time he went over. “Baby,” he snatched her hand as she went by.

She pulled away. “Kael, I’m busy,” she marched away before he could reach for her again.

Without warning a multitude of memories where he snagged her hand over the years filtered through her mind. His grip tight on her arm or hand. Never in a way that any outsider would notice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself. She was going to call Harry. His wrath would be well worth it. At least Kael was scared of Harry and the team. Especially if he was outnumbered. She was shaking a little as she headed for the kitchen hoping to catch Louis at least.

“Hey,” Kael said grabbing her again as she passed too close to his table. This time he caught a real hold of her arm and pinned it to the table. To any other onlooker it would look like he was just keeping her in place holding onto her hand in almost a romantic kind of way. No one would see how his fingers dug into her skin, how she was feeling the ache of the hard wood against her knuckles and wrist bone like she just lost an arm-wrestling contest. “I just want to talk.”

She wanted nothing less. “Hey, Louis!” She called quickly and loudly enough so that he would be able to hear her over the din of the whole place regardless of where he had gone off too.

Within seconds Louis was there from the back room.

Harry was right beside him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her arm on the table. Her mouth popped open in shock. She had no clue he was there. Most obviously, she didn’t want him to see this. “Oh fuck,” she whispered and tried to pry her hand away from Kael’s. She squirmed slightly as he refused to release her. He cupped his other hand gently on top of her arm trying to get her to stop.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here. He was only supposed to come to her rescue because she couldn’t figure out what else she was to do. She was going to hide in the kitchen and wait.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be around Kael.

“Styles,” Kael practically sang. He didn’t release her arm. “Didn’t know you were here. Tough loss today. I hope it’s the same tomorrow, to be honest.”

He didn’t take the bait. His nostrils flared. “Let go of her hand Crowe,” Harry snarled stepping closer to him.

“We were just talking, right baby?” Kael smiled and took his free hand to cup the side of her face. She turned her face away and brushed it away from her skin.

Harry continued to approach him—up close and personal. If they were on the ice the cages of their helmets would have been touching. “Let her go, right fucking now,” his shoulders were heaving.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. Harry didn’t even acknowledge her.

Was he trying to keep it together? Not make a scene, maybe? Harry was quick to anger—like most hockey players. He probably would have torn Kael limb from limb by now if this wasn’t a local place where fans and the rest of the team went.

“Let go of her,” her he repeated, his voice was so deep. His body shaking.

“Harry, I’m fine—”

He ignored her still and Kael continued keeping her in place despite her squirming. She wanted to whimper as he squeezed her tighter and pressed her hand harder into the table. To the untrained eye, you wouldn’t know. But Harry was watching like this was his favorite movie and they were at the climax of the plot. He saw the way she winced and her body bend slightly as he pressed harder. “Mind your fucking business, Styles,” Kael shook his head. “This doesn’t involve—”

“She is m’business. Especially when you’re fucking hurting her,” the whole bar area went silent as they realized one of their favorite celebrities was about to punch the lights out of one of the best names in hockey. “If y’don’t let her go, m’gonna rip your hand off, Crowe. And m’gonna enjoy it,” he promised shaking his head. “Let go of her.”

She wanted to move more but was utterly terrified. Harry could get in serious trouble. Kael wasn’t particularly dangerous, but his grip was making her whole arm ache. Harry’s threat made her stomach swoop; he was so ready to protect her. Of course that was nice, but she wanted to cry. Hurting one of the top professionals in the league (even if Harry was also at the top) was a great way to get a hefty suspension and fine if he was caught.

Just another way she was going to upend his perfectly normal, happy life.

“Harry, stop,” she begged.

“Yeah, Harry, stop,” Kael mimicked. But she inhaled sharply, pulling and moving again uselessly to try and get away from the grip he had on her wrist. She whimpered despite herself as the pain continued. “Mind your business Harry,” he snarled. “M’talking to my girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Stop fucking touching her, Crowe.”

“She’s mine. I’ll do whatever I want to her.”

Harry stared at him, his gaze flicking to her wrist still pinned to the table. She was still squirming, looking to get away. Louis reached for her and Harry put his hand on his chest and pushed him away. He walked to the bar, grabbed a shot of whatever the bartender was pouring. His head tipped back as he sucked the liquid down. The quiet clink of his glass hitting the bar was the only sound in the room. Silently, Harry plucked the rings he wore when he wasn’t playing hockey off his fingers. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket. It felt like the seconds were ticking by in slow motion. Not even the pain from Kael’s tight grip on her hand was enough to draw her attention away from Harry’s movements.

She swallowed, her eyes pleading with Harry not to do it. It wasn’t that bad. She could take it. The pain she was feeling now was hardly anything in comparison to what he could do. This was nothing.

“One more time, Crowe... Let go. Of her,” Harry’s voice was even. Measured. It had the tone of I’m not asking again.

“She’s mine, Styles. Find someone else to stalk.”

Harry smirked, shook his head, and his eyes flickered to hers for only a second. Then they were back on Kael. “Oh. No. No she’s very much not yours.”

As slow as the seconds had ticked by, they all came rushing back at full speed; maybe time even sped up. Harry delivered a lightning-fast punch to Kael’s nose causing him to gasp and drop her hand as he instinctively reached for his face. With the toe of his boot, Harry tipped his chair before Kael could get his bearings, and he fell flat to his back. The chair broke into pieces with his weight. He gasped, trying to right himself and protect his nose from bleeding everywhere. Harry reached down before Kael could get a grip. He yanked him up by the collar and front of his shirt. A stupid, ugly orange and blue sweatshirt that Harry was delighted to wrinkle hard in his hands. Before Kael was barely on his feet, Harry hauled him backward. Shoved him hard into the bar so the edge dug into his spine, no doubt. Without pause, Harry delivered a solid punch to his cheek, a heel stomp to his foot, and knee to his stomach.    

Kael bent forward, gasping for air and Harry’s breathing was as even as if he was sleeping.

Her hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach as she tried to hold herself together. Everyone looked in pure shock. Surely someone was supposed to try and stop Harry. Even if he was a hockey player for the town that everyone loved. But given he incapacitated Kael in a matter of thirty seconds it wasn’t like anyone wanted to try and stop him. Even Louis was speechless and looked in horror. “Are y’gonna touch her again?” He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong answer as Harry twisted him in an instant, pressing his face down into the bar, pulling his arm back behind his body. “I said, are y’gonna touch her again?”

“No,” he rasped.

“M’letting y’keep your hand. Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped and shoved him a final time into the bar. He dropped a few hundreds on the bar for the damage and his drink. “Louis, keep the change,” he muttered over his shoulder without sparing another glance at Kael. “S’time t’go, Bunny,” he murmured lowly for no one else to hear but her. He placed an arm around her waist, and tugged her toward the exit. Every pair of eyes followed them.

“B-but m-my shift—”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and stuffed it in the front pocket of her apron. “Let’s go,” he repeated and ushered her outside.

Harry opened his passenger door and gestured for her to get in.

She looked nervous, which made Harry uneasy. This strong, brave woman who bantered with unruly hockey players and dealt with fans and drunk patrons looked a bit lost. “What about my car— I mean... your other—”

“Get in the car, Rookie,” he ordered.

She followed his direction. Harry waited until she was safely buckled inside before closing her in. He locked the door for the short walk around his car, only unlocking it so he could slip inside. Once seated and buckled, he turned the car on and immediately exited the parking lot. After driving in silence for several moments Harry dropped his hand on her thigh like it was an instinct.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. Which was kind of him, because how could she be? Her heart was thudding in her chest, her wrist hurt, and her brain was a mess. Harry’s hand on her leg should have made her uncomfortable given he didn’t ask. But it was almost too comforting, and she dreaded the idea that he would have to let go of her eventually.

“Don’t y’dare cry over him, bunny,” his voice was tight.

She sniffled, not realizing she was, in fact, crying. She swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered looking toward the window.

Harry shook his head and sighed. His hand squeezed her leg while he pressed his head back into the seat hard—if the head rest wasn’t there and he didn’t have to watch the road, she was certain his eyes would be facing the ceiling of his car, searching for strength somewhere above him. His jawline seemed sharper than ever as he clenched his teeth. “Y’don’t have t’apologize.”

“Thank you,” she croaked quietly. “For doing that, I...” she swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I would have done,” she admitted. The scenario didn’t seem to play out in full if Harry wasn’t there. Yeah, Louis would have helped, but this was different. Harry didn’t say anything. She pulled his wallet out of her apron and placed it in one of the cup holders between them. “I don’t want—”

“It’s yours.”

 “Harry, it’s not that—”

“Bunny, I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you all afternoon. Since I met you, really. I can’t stop. I used t’think ‘bout nothing but hockey. But s’like you’re the only thing on m’mind now. M’happy when I see you around the rink taking pictures. M’happy when y’try t’skate on m’pond. I love our lessons, and I want t’have y’in my house all the time. M’happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve been in years, and I didn’t even know I wasn’t completely happy. I can’t have one-night stands anymore. I tried, I did. You’re a long shot. I know that. Someone who deserves a guy so much better than a hot-tempered hockey player as evident by the piece of shit that hurt you in so many ways,” His voice is quiet. “S’not a secret I like you. A lot. If we can only be friends and roommates—because m’sure as hell not bringing y’back to that sorry excuse of an apartment—then s'what I’ll do.”

There was only a brief beat of silence while she contemplated all he said. “I worked really hard on my apartment,” she whispered.

This seemed to soften him a little. He sighed. “It’s adorable, Bunny. It is. But m’constantly worried you’re going t’be kidnapped, robbed, or worse. You can move in this week,” he insisted. “I have the day off after tomorrow and I was going t’spend it at the gym t’lift with the guys so we can pack and move your shit all the same instead.”

“Harry, I don’t think that will work... I have to pay out the rest of my lease if I move out early.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed. She didn’t say anything. Because she kind of agreed that it was bullshit. But she couldn’t move in with Harry. Not when he just admitted he liked her the way she did. It set her heart into a dramatic flutter. Being legally bound would hopefully be enough of a reason for Harry to agree to let her stay until her lease ran out. Then she could figure out her next steps. “Fine,” he decided after a moment. “The black debit card in m’wallet will take care of it.”

She snorted unable to hide her shock. “Harry, you can’t—”

“M’done arguing with you ‘bout this, Bunny.” She frowned and looked at her hand, turning her wrist and wincing ever so slightly. “Is your wrist okay?” He asked.

She shrugged and answered instinctively. “It hurts; but I’ve had worse,” she gasped at her own mistake almost instantly. “Oh fuck, I mean—” she stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Harry saw through it and understood exactly what she meant. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and he swallowed. The bob in his throat looked like he was drinking a glass of nails.

“Did he ever hurt you like this before?” Harry’s voice was an octave lower than she ever heard it. His eyes narrowed as he stared forward.

She didn’t want to make matters any worse, so she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For several seconds, the car seemed so silent it was as if the tires weren’t even on the ground anymore or if she was breathing.

“Harry,” she whispered eventually.

Harry took a deep breath not liking the tone of her voice and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are we— Harry!”

Before she could understand what was happening, Harry was outside and opening his trunk and the car doors locked her inside. Instantly, he pulled out one of the back-up sticks he had in case his two in the locker room broke in the middle of a game (or if he wanted to practice while he was home on the pond out back). He slammed it hard on the pavement multiple times grunting as he did until the stick snapped. Then he grabbed a second and repeated this process again, swearing and cursing like he was imagining Kael was under the stick.

Once satisfied with his destruction, he collected the broken pieces and dropped them in the back before sitting in the driver’s seat again, his breathing only slightly elevated.

She stared at him wildly. Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “If he touches you again, m’killing him,” he said simply. It was a promise. His breath was heavy from the exertion.

She nodded; Harry put the car in drive and continued back toward his place. His hand went right back on her thigh, which she still found comforting and warm, even though she had only had the luxury of his hand on her for no more than a few minutes. “Okay,” she whispered hoping there wouldn’t be an again to speak of.

Harry let the silence linger again. “My apartment is the other way,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I just told you, Rookie, y’not living there anymore.”

“Oh my God, Harry. You can’t be serious.”

He snorted. “No. I am. As a heart attack.”

“Harry I can’t move in—”

“Of course, y’can. I have like five bedrooms. Pick one. Pick three for all I care.”

She swallowed. “What if I pick your bedroom?” She was attempting to lighten the mood, maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was trying (and failing) to be annoying. But Harry was never annoyed by her. He was amused at worst. She was adorable. Every little thing she did was adorable.

“Then it’s yours,” he shrugged. He was hardly home during the season anyway. With his niece, Mum, and Gem out of town, he wasn’t home much in the off-season either. He could easily move into another room if she wanted his. In fact, he probably would give her his room. It wasn’t the only one with a bathroom, but it had a nice tub that he knew was being wasted without proper use and it felt like she deserved a relaxing night to soak in the tub until she got pruney and everything else that stressed her in her life disappeared.

“I thought you didn’t bring women home to stay,” she reminded him.

“Never had one that I wanted t’bring home,” he shrugged.

She pressed her head to the window. He was quick. Didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay tonight, but I’m not moving in. My uncle is going to kill you.”

He shrugged. “S’a long line of Glacier Wolves who’ll want t’kill me before him.” She giggled softly under her breath. Harry glanced at her peripherally and smirked at the little smile that graced her lips. “M’niece is over a lot in the off season,” he told her. “Gem and Mum come by too. So s’had women there before.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then, yeah. Never had a woman I wanted to bring home,” he repeated. Harry parked in his driveway, turned to her, his hand still on her thigh and honestly, she never wanted it to move.

“Are we still friends?” She blurted. He just admitted he liked her. It was no secret she liked him too. It could make things very awkward going forward so she wouldn’t blame him if he really didn’t want to be friends any longer.

“What a weird fucking question, Rookie,” he shook his head.

“Can you just tell me?”

“Yes, we’re still fucking friends. Despite the fact I would love t’be more.”

She closed her eyes. “He really fucked me up, Harry,” she whispered. “He... he wanted some trophy girlfriend that doted on him and worshipped him for being a good hockey player. He didn’t want me to be my own person. He didn’t want me to have my own hobbies or interests. Like I was nothing, a nobody—”

“Rookie,” he whispered.

“—and I just let him treat me that way. Because it was easier than confronting it—”

“Rookie.”

“—So I don’t want to keep falling for you because you... you’re so talented and you will overshadow me and you should. But it’s so fucking cold living in the shadow of someone else and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He winced. “Bunny,” he wanted her to stop.

“I don’t love that nickname either,” she sighed. “I want to. It’s cute and it’s even cuter when you say it. But the connotation of being a puck bunny is just more of what Kael insinuated and I don’t—”

“I don’t think you are a puck bunny. S’not why I call you that. Y’wrinkle your nose like a bunny when y’concentrate. S’the first thing I noticed when I met y’taking pictures rink-side. And you’re always going and going like the little Energizer bunny. But mostly, s’because you’re so fucking cute like a bunny. S’honestly nearly nauseating sometimes.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed trying to keep all the feelings of falling for another hockey player at bay. “So, I make you sick?”

He smiled. “Excessively.”

“And you want me anyway?”

“Excessively,” he whispered cupping her face. She leaned into the touch, closed her eyes, and sank into the way his hand caressed her cheek for a moment.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. “You probably know that he cheated on me,” she reminded him. “And the worst of it, I don’t know if it was the first time, and I don’t want to know. Because I already felt stupid for letting him belittle me and letting me forget parts of myself.”

Harry tilted his head back fully staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah...” And now Harry knew this wasn’t the first time he had hurt her either. Whether it was intentional or not.

“And...” she swallowed. “I don’t think you’re like him... if you take anything away from this conversation, please know that I think you’re nothing like him. You’re up front about most of everything. He kept things from me. But... you’re you and you could have any woman you want in any city you want. I don’t fault you for that—I really hope you know that... but I don’t want to be a number anymore, Harry. I don’t want to feel like an idiot, and I don’t think you would intentionally make me feel like an idiot but—”

“Bunny,” he interrupted, turning back to gaze into her eyes so intensely it felt like everything around them disappeared except for the space between them. The seriousness in his green eyes made her stomach flip. They seemed darker. Like the color was changing to a darker shade to explain how serious he was and how he meant every word that spilled from his mouth. “I think you’re brilliant,” he whispered. “In every facet of your life. I’ve thought about nothing but hockey m’whole life. It has been eat, sleep, and breathe ice, pucks, and sticks. The second I met you, every thought has been ‘bout you,” he reminded her. “If I never played another game of hockey, I really think I would be okay s’long as y’were around.”

Her heart felt like it was broken and whole all at the same time. It was too sweet. She bit the inside of her lip. “Well, I don’t want that,” she whispered. “You’re quite good,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “The point remains, Rookie... I want you t’have everything y’could possibly want. I want t’do anything I can t’help y’achieve anything y’want t’do.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t believe you went to get a drink.”

“I really didn’t think y’would be there... was hoping I’d run into Louis and maybe he would know if y’were okay. Y’never answered my texts. Didn’t tell me y’made it home.” he frowned. “Why did y’lie t’me, Bunny?”

She took a deep breath. “The whole team has been so nice to me,” she whispered. “I’m not really used to that...” she trailed off. “Callie got so many penalties, you had to interrupt your post-game cool down to walk me to your car, everyone wants to take shifts to watch me... you have to drive me home, give me one of your car... I’ve seriously disrupted your lives... and it was all just too much today. I don’t want to bother you guys. You didn’t sign up to have a kid or a pet you need to watch. Uncle Charlie didn’t have to give me a job with a hockey team. I feel like I didn’t earn anything. It’s so sweet that all of you care, but it’s weird for me...”

God, she was cute. Even sad she was cute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Y’haven’t disrupted our lives,” he promised. “We’d do this for anyone.”

“That’s comforting I suppose.”

“C’mon, s’late... we have a game tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Course, Rookie,” he squeezed her leg one more time and then got out of the car. (As she predicted, she hated the feeling of Harry’s hand anywhere else but her thigh.)

Entering his house, Harry kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. She texted her group chat with Michael and Marc as she flopped onto the couch until she got more direction from Harry.

I’m at someone’s house for the night so don’t worry about me.

Michael reacted to her message with a thumbs up.

It better be a HOT hockey player.

Michael reacted to Marc’s message with a thumbs down.

Good night, Marc!

I want every INCH of detail

That earned a vomiting emoji from Michael. I do NOT want any details.

GOOD NIGHT MARC

*

Harry hated that he had a big house. If they were at her apartment, they could have been squished in her bed right then. She wouldn’t be down the hall and half of Harry’s mattress wouldn’t have felt so cold. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, his phone vibrated almost immediately. Like she somehow knew he was awake.

Are you awake?

M-hmm

Can we get breakfast, please?

Harry would throw himself down a set of stairs for her if she asked. “You could jus’ come in here t’ask,” he called.

“I’m creating boundaries!” She answered from a guest room. “Besides this bed is comfy and I don’t want to get up,” she giggled.

“Well, I don’t want boundaries,” he grumbled to himself. He wondered if she slept without pants on. Not that it mattered. He was turned on by the thought of her naked in his bed or if she was in a full snow suit.

“What did you say?” She called.

“Nothing,” he grumbled and pressed the palm of his hand over the front of his shorts willing the blood to rush anywhere but his dick at the thought of her in a goddamn snow suit. “I just have t’shower,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she sighed, and Harry could picture her snuggling herself further into the mattress. Maybe it was for the best she was in another room. If she was there looking all cute and cuddly on his bed, he would have to quit hockey. He would probably spend the rest of his life worshipping her on his mattress in every possible way.

Plus, his dick would never be anything but hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” he sighed to himself under the spray of the warm shower. He tried to think about anything but her pretty self in the other room. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes. She was probably changing into her uniform from the night before, so at least he wouldn’t see her in the shirt and shorts he gave her to wear for bed.

He shook his head and focused on shower and not what it would feel like to press her against the tile or—

“Fuuuuck,” he touched his forehead against the tile. Hockey. Defense. Goals. Niall. That’s good. Niall, gross. Callie—FUCK Callie. Asher owes me ten dollars for betting Lang wouldn’t say “good effort” in their pool game the other day.

His shower took twice as long to shower because he had to actively think about something other than his pretty friend. Once he was out, he slipped into a pair of sweats and one of his long sleeve practice shirts. As he put on his deodorant, he realized it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize what she was doing as he got dressed. “Rookie, you are not,” he called as he hurried down the hall.

“Not what?” She asked innocently.

“Doing my dish—Rookie, what the hell!”

“They were just there! And I was bored, Harry. Plus, you didn’t say I couldn’t!”

“I told you last time.”

“Well yeah, but that was last time.”

“Please stop,” he begged and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed t’be going t’breakfast.”

“Well, I figured while you took two years to get ready,” it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes max but maybe his effort to not think about her in his shower took longer than he thought, “I would make myself useful,” she shrugged and set the final dish on the drying rack beside his sink. She turned the water off and ran the dishtowel over the counter and edge surrounding the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. Her black and silver uniform top for The Locker Room was on her again. Her leggings from the night before clung to her legs like a second skin.

He wondered how she could look so cute after working a hectic, busy shift, then slept all night and it barely looked like she had a hair out of place. “What?” She asked looking down at her shirt. “Do I have something on this? We’ll have to stop at my apartment first if I do. I’m not going out with you to breakfast when you look hot and I look like trash,” she frowned.

He snorted. “Y’don’t look like trash, Rookie.”

“Well, do I smell or something?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Stunning really,” he shrugged one shoulder and reached out to touch her face. He skimmed his thumb along her cheek wishing he could lean in and kiss her until they were both breathless. He smiled softly enjoying the way her cheek warmed under his touch. For someone so snarky, she was awfully shy. “Let’s go,” he tilted his head toward the main hallway. He made his way before she could read into it as he was sure she was wont to do.

Harry opened her passenger door and smiled wickedly at her as she got in. “What?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together.

“You think I’m hot,” he sang.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Harry chuckled, closing her inside.

*

Kael didn’t play because he was injured. The report sustained it happened at practice the day before but everyone on The Chargers bench knew. Kael kept his gear on but moved to the end of the bench for the starters and lines of his teammates that would be playing. He hardly cheered, hardly moved.

The rest of The Wolves sent death glares to everyone on the team. Harry was checked into the boards more times than he could count. But every time he caught sight of the pretty photographer twirling her wrist in between photos, he felt grateful for each hit. She continued to take pictures, placing her camera into the cutouts of the glass around the ice.

Kael hid from pictures from his own media specialist, the news outlets, and even the fans during the game and in between periods.

“Coward,” Asher growled as they left the ice and headed to the locker room at the end of the game. The group that typically resided in the back of The Locker Room was livid when they found out from Harry that Kael hurt her. They too must have seen the way she twisted her wrist around between pictures. Harry wondered if she noticed she was doing it. It ate at him that it wasn’t the first time that piece of garbage hurt her. There was nothing Harry could do—well, maybe if he ever did figure out time travel, he could. But for now, he could take the hits from Kael’s stupid team and make sure the pretty photographer was okay.

Besides.

He may have had a tough game physically, but Harry was truly on cloud nine.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Lang called from the front of the line heading back toward the locker room.

“I’m good!” She answered.

Harry didn’t even care that Niall was walking alongside her and not him. Or that Callie gave her arm a squeeze when he walked by. It didn’t bother him that Asher was as irate as him either.

Because the word Styles was on her body. It was purposeful. If Kael paid attention, he would see it. He would know she supported Harry, regardless of how outlandish it was (or wasn’t) that he defended her last night. Harry knew the second he saw it, that Kael was going to look at the pretty girl with his number on her and start fuming in his seat. Maybe that’s why his team aimed for him so vehemently throughout the game as well.

Whatever, Harry could take it.

It was well worth it to see his name on her jersey.

Harry realized it was his time to shine after they went out for breakfast. He drove her to get her car at Louis’. He followed her home to the shady apartment building. He wasn’t in the mindset to leave her for any bit of time given the night before. Maybe not for a good few days either if he had it his way. They had away games coming up so they would be all but trapped together on a plane, a bus, and in a hotel so that was in his favor.

He really hoped she would be in a nearby room at the hotel. Or better yet, there wouldn’t be enough rooms, and he could share his with her.

“Why’d you choose eleven?” She asked when she came out of her room after getting ready. She was fluffing her pretty hair and tugging at the hem of the jersey that she had put on. It took a moment to register in Harry’s mind that she was talking to him and was anticipating a response. In her mind, it was no big deal that she was nonchalantly wearing his name and number. That she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The sweetest person he knew.

He swore his heart skipped a beat as his vision refocused on the lovely girl wearing his name on her back.

He cleared his throat. “S’the first number I ever got,” he shrugged. “But now I say m’so good, m’number twice.”

She grinned and laughed quietly under her breath as she put earrings on with The Chargers logo. “I like that. You are very good. I’ve seen a lot of hockey myself. I like to think I’m a good judge of ability.”

When Harry was younger, he thought if he could have a superpower, he would want to time travel. As he got older it changed a bit, he wanted super strength so he could be the strongest hockey player. Read minds so he could predict the movements of opponents on the ice. Since he met her, he returned to the tried and true: if he could time travel, he could figure out twenty seconds after he kissed her if she hated him or kiss him back, he would have done it right then.

He smirked. “So m’the lucky one today?” He asked pulling on the sleeve.

“I don’t know, does wearing someone’s jerseys constitute as lucky for the day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, very much so, Rookie.”

“Then sure; you’re very lucky, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. He turned away slightly and caught sight of a string of pictures on her little kitchen bar. “What’s all this?” He asked, picking up a photo and inspecting it. It was one of the ones she took while Harry was practicing before the rest of the team showed up. Another photo she got laying down on the ice of Callie’s skates when Harry wanted to rip his teammate’s arm off for holding her so close that day. One from Niall’s empty net. Another of Asher’s locker, his jersey on display. A close up of the C on Lang’s jersey. One of just the empty rink—no fans, no players, nothing.

“Oh... I don’t know,” she looked away shyly piling them together. “I was playing with the idea of making a series of photos,” she flipped one over to indicate the back showed the number three in the line. “You guys are attractive and stuff, but I thought there was a lot of beauty in the little things behind the bench, you know? It’s not just fights and points. The rink is so pretty,” she shrugged.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could stack any more of them away. He looked at each of the pictures painstakingly selected from the hundreds of photos she took each day. The way the light shone off a helmet, the way a shadow fell on the bench. “They’re beautiful, Bunny. Why don’t y’do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it a series?”

She shook her head. “No... I don’t know. Not many people care about sports photography,” she shrugged. “Not like this anyway.”

“Rookie, I think every team owner and manager in the league would pay t’have this set in their arena.”

“No way, there’s not a single headshot of a star player. In sports, the only thing that really sells by far is you guys and your pretty faces,” she patted his cheek. “It’s tragic, I have some incredible photos of a few baseball diamonds at sunset. But there’s no fans and no players so it just wouldn’t sell well.”

“Show me,” he urged.

She sighed and put her jacket over “We’re going to be late, Harry. Uncle Charlie is already going to be annoyed with me that I’m wearing your jersey. And so will the rest of the team.”

“They all had their turn, Rookie, y’made me wait forever,” he grumbled. They didn’t have to be annoyed. They didn’t have a crush on her the way Harry did. They all knew that. His teammates were his family, but they made him cranky no less; teasing him about how smitten he was about their photographer.

She smiled sadly. “Harry,” she sighed. “I’ll show you another time.”

“Promise?” He pleaded.

“Promise?” She repeated in disbelief. Harry was nearly thirty years old and sounded like he was in kindergarten.

“Promise you’ll show me,” he said pointedly.

“Alright, yeah," She shook her head, sighed with a smile still on her lips. "I promise.”

--

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[fairestwriting]

Hello 👋 could I please request headcanons for leona's fem s/o defending him everytime one of the other characters start making backhanded comments to his face (if you've seen some of the vignettes you'll know what I mean) she doesn't reveal things like he's depressed or anything (tho he is) she just tells them it's shitty of them calling him lazy/selfish constantly without even knowing him personally

[Everyone treats leona like crap and I take personal offense to it >:( ]

You know i make fun of him on a regular basis. but theres a line thats gotta be drawn when it comes to leona bullying. cause damn this guy needs a real Break he cant even have issues in peace

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Before you got closer to him, there’s a fair chance the comments didn’t even stand out to you at all. It always felt a little unfair, yes, but not in a way that was particularly shocking, they were all just rude comments like any other. Back when you weren’t quite friends yet, and maybe even at the start of your friendship, you might have interjected with a simple ”hey, he’s not that bad” or "you don’t need to be rude about it”. It was just a gesture of basic politeness then, something the people around you seemed to lack.

But obviously, your perception of those interactions, and the way you see Leona’s situation itself, soon went through a rather radical change. Possibly even before you two started dating, or even before he “told you too much” — His own words, mumbled dismissively but bitterly, the day he came back after spending a weekend with his family and then proceeded to complain for a little longer than usual — As he warmed up to you, you started to notice things about him more. You started to see the spark of actual passion he has in his eyes during his club activities, the level of detail he gets into when analyzing things, the precise way he moved his chess pieces when you two played...

Above all, though, you started to notice how he often looked actually tired when he took part in any of the “slacking” he’s so infamous for. Learning the littlest bit more about his family life just worked as the final piece of the puzzle you’d been putting together without even noticing — And then, other people’s “rudeness” started to sound like something much more cruel. It didn’t help that he never seemed to react to it whenever he overheard others gossiping, or whenever you told him about the things you heard. “Why doesn’t he care?” The thought would echo in your mind for ages, trying to understand him through the tiny slivers of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

Now, as his girlfriend, you feel you just can’t let people say whatever they want, and you feel it more strongly than you ever have. ”Why don’t you mind your own business instead of talking about someone you don’t really know?” You snap back on instinct when one of your classmates, who was in Savanaclaw, comments on how lazy their dorm leader is. Their mouth closes instantly, regardless if you’ve made your relationship public or not — You realize that, on top of all the negative treatment Leona got, it was also extremely rare for others to defend him in any way at all. Enough that even a response that simple elicits shock from others.

”You know, it’s crazy to see you hanging out with Leona like that. I never thought I'd see anyone get so excited to spend time with him.” You hear some other day, while spending time in Savanaclaw’s common area, sat right next to Leona, and it just makes your blood boil. He’s just half-glaring at your particularly cocky acquaintance, sighing like he’s heard it a million times before, which you know he probably has. ”Hey, make sure you don’t get too influenced, we don’t need another person who just sleeps all day—”

”Yeah, you’re right. This type of person can be such a pain. I’m so glad I don’t know anyone who’s, you know, actually like that.” You say through grit teeth, just barely holding back aggression, and in the corner of your vision, the subtle flash of surprise in Leona’s face only encourages you to continue. ”Imagine if like, the Magift team had this sort of player in it… the club would be done for.”

They stare at you with wide eyes, having very much picked up on the aggression. The entire room is silent, you refuse to break eye contact, arms firmly crossed. ”Well, I mean…” The student stammers, but then, Leona himself speaks up for once. ”Did you not get her message? You need me to tell you to shut up instead?” He snaps, and they frantically shake their head, eyes fixed on the ground. You feel pride swelling in your chest, almost unable to hold back your smile.

”You know, Herbivore, if I needed a bodyguard I’d already have one.” He tells you later, in that same day. His tone has that snarky edge that feels like his default, but it’s much less pronounced than usual. You can even see a sort of softness in his eyes while he tries to play it cool. But needing and deserving are two different things, you think. As interactions like these repeat, with you defending him every time, you hope your message fully gets through to him, one day.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[bluem1lls]

i need part 2 of se-mi with comphet reader 😭

✧₊⁺ speak now (or don't, and love forever in silence)

groom bff! se-mi x comphet! reader

synopsis: after years of waiting, he finally propose. wasn't this everything you wished for?

but you couldn't bring yourself to be happy.

was it maybe because when you thought about it, all you could picture was her face?

content: some angst, but finally fluff!!!!

authors note: im so sorry for the looooong ass late updates, im so so busy but im ab to go on break so everyone cheered!!! im back i promise:( im so excited for this part 2 i actually love it and i hope u do too!!!!

part one. part two (you're here!)

famous actress finally engaged with the famous choi su-bong, more known as 'thanos', old rapper surging back!

we all saw on Instagram the romantic proposal he prepped for her, and of course like every girl would, she said yes!

we are so happy for the married couple!

"fucking bullshit" se-mi threw her phone away with rage after reading the most liked post from the magazine's instagram.

her hands went to her face as she groaned, biting back her lip to keep the tears away.

poor dumb girl. she actually thought you were coming back to her...

"the way he proposed was so romantic, i'm glad he did it that way, it was what you always wanted ever since you were a kid" my best friend jun-hee took my hands between hers with a comforting smile. i smiled softly as i sighed.

"y-yeah. it was.." i whispered. she stares into my eyes, squeezing my hands. her expression fell, now filled with pity. she knew me more than anyone.

"you do know that you're supposed to be happy about getting married right?" she says with a lifted eyebrow as i pressed my lips.

"i am." i said, trying to convince myself.

"honey-" she murmurs as i cut her.

"i have to be." i said, turning to face myself in the mirror. streightening my skirt as i faked my best smile.

and it was true. everything was exactly how i always wanted it.

so.. why didn't it felt like it?

i heard a knock that snapped me out of my thoughts. we both turned as the door opened. "excuse me, just wanted to let you know the invitations have been sent" a girl said with a smile as i nodded, thanking her.

once she left, jun-hee stared at me. "did you sent one for.." my best friend said, stopping herself as i shuddered.

"yeah. of course. they're best friends." refering to my husband and se-mi. i put a smile to pretend i didn't cared. or at least i tried, although it didn't even reached my eyes.

if your own best friend stares at you with pity, you start to consider maybe you're not doing as well as you thought.

but i couldn't back up. not now. not ever.

"this belongs in the trash" se-mi says with a sarcastic smirk, grabbing the invitation only to crumble it with anger as min-su stops her.

"we can't just.. not go" he says to her as she stares at him, incredulous.

"do you want me to go to that fucking wedding? for what?" she spits with anger and disbelief, her voice getting louder as he sighs. he got used to seeing his best friend angered ever since the news came out.

"listen, i get it, okay? but it's our best friend's wedding. we can't just miss it" min-su says in a soft tone, trying to make her understand.

"i refuse to watch her get married." her cold voice snaps. "fuck this." she says with a groan, frustration all over her face.

"you need to move on! you know those two! yeah they hate eachother, but they're not breaking up sem. they're getting married, and probably everything that goes after that. are you just gonna avoid thanos until you die?" he says snapping as she furrows her brow, a small pout on her pierced lips without her even noticing it.

"there's nothing to move on, there was never anything between me and her right?" she says with a sigh. "i'm still not going. i fucking hate weddings" she says under her breath, going to her room to avoid the conversation. and something about that doesn't feel true, because she loves to think about you on a wedding dress. but not if it's not with.. she shakes her head to remove the thought, slamming the door. min-su sighs, his hands on his face, exhausted.

"oh god" jun-hee says with tears on her face, her eyes twinkle in awe as i laugh, a little teary.

the dress looks.. perfect. just like in my childhood dream. my perfect dream wedding.

"it was made for you" she says as i chuckle, giving a little spin for her.

i should be so happy...

"yeah.. i think we're done" i say to the girl from the store, who's standing on my side, staring at me with a soft smile. "this is it. this is the one."

i slowly head back to the changing room to remove the dress. i place back my clothes while my assistant goes to pay. i stare at myself in the mirror.

why am i not happy? why doesn't it feel like i'm getting married?

i sigh as i leave the store with my two companions.

"let's grab some coffee, it's right around the corner and im dying for some caffeine." jun-hee says as i nod.

i feel my phone buzzing on my pockets.

oh god, of course. he's always fucking forgetting about the wedding or where i am. god why am i marrying this-

my breath hitches as i grab my phone, reading the text.

this can't be happening.

not now.

oh god.

sem: a wedding?

sem: really?

of course it's her.

of course she texts me out of nowhere a fucking random tuesday at 3 pm.

of course she makes my heart beat on my chest like no one ever did. just for a fucking text.

i scoff in disbelief as my manicured nails type with anger.

me: for real?

me: this is what you're texting me?

me: after not hearing about you for fucking YEARS??????

i see the little bubble that indicates she's typing back. the fact that she hasn't left the chat since she texted me makes me bite my lip.

sem: i've seen the photos

sem: you know

sem: you dont look like someone whos excited to get married

i roll my eyes as i let out a shaky breath, she hit a nerve.

me: what do you know? you havent talked to me in years, maybe things changed.

sem: everything did.

sem: except this.

sem: why do you keep lying to yourself?

i place my phone back in my pocket with shaky hands, leaving her on seen. i place my head on my hands as i groan.

why did she had appear out of nowhere?

i was fine without.. knowing about her.

without thinking about her. without her smile. without knowing if she's seeing someone..

i was okay without her. yeah. i was perfect.

god i really need that coffee.

as i get home i watch my... fiance laying on the couch.

"did you even tried the cake samples i left?" i said with frustration as i leave my purse.

"uh, nam-gyu did, he said the black tea one was really good" he said without too much care as i stared at him disbelief.

"am i getting married to nam-gyu? because i needed MY husband to try them!" i say, standing in front of him, my hands on my hips as he rolled his eyes.

"who the fuck cares about the cake baby? no one does" he says, his arms sneaking around my waist to bring me closer to him.

"i care! i am going to be the wife in this fucking wedding and i care about the cake!" i shout angry. "and don't touch me" i let myself loose of his grip as he groans in built frustration.

"seriously? this again?" he says with a sigh, letting go.

"after the wedding" i say to him as my heart sinks. liar.

"about time" he rolls his eyes, his focus on the phone once again.

i stare at him blinking in disbelief.

this is my life?

am i gonna marry.. this idiot?

i go upstairs as i remove my outside clothes, placing on my pjs. i slowly let myself sink in bed as i grab my phone, my hands trembling as i bite my lip.

was this a good idea? no.

clearly not.

but god, i couldn't stop thinking about her.

me: are you coming?

me: to the wedding

me: i sent you an invitation

it takes her two minutes to reply.

sem: no.

oh. i chew on my bottom lip thinking about what to reply, until she texts back a few minutes later.

sem: why?

do i? do i wanna get marry, knowing she's there, staring at me?

the question is.. will i get married, knowing she's there, sitting on the crowd, watching me?

me: i want you there

the texting bubbles appear and disappear for over 10 minutes, making me extremely anxious as i wait for her reply.

sem: okay

okay what? okay that i want her there although i shouldn't? okay that-

sem: i'll see you there.

sem: consider this as my confirmation to the wedding.

i throw my phone away with shaky hands. my head sinks on my pillow, muffling my scream.

god, what have i done?

finally, today is the day.

today, i'm getting married.

the happiest day in my life. that's what everyone is saying.

so why i've been crying non stop until falling asleep?

i stared at myself, sat in front of my mirror. my makeup perfectly done, my hair loose in soft waves, the dress made just for me. it had to be like this, because this was what everyone expected from me.

i sighed as i stood up, leaving the room to go wait on the door for my entrance. i could hear the bells ringing, the wedding music. my dad appears, walking slowly until he was standing besides with a smile.

"i'm proud of you" he said, staring at front as i did too, my eyes teary. but it wasn't happiness, it was...

"everything is like it's supposed to be" i said, streightening myself. my head turned to stare at him. "am i finally the perfect daughter?" i asked my dad, my voice trembling with emotion.

he gave me a confused stare, a hint of what it looked like sadness, creeping into his stare. "it's not the wedding, it's clearly not the husband" he said as we both softly chuckled. "it's you.. you're my daughter. and i don't need you to be perfect, you being you it's all i want. your happiness. honey, nothing else matters after that." he said as i holded my tears. i bit the inside of my cheek, my heart pounding on my chest.

it's too late now, isn't it?

i could feel him interlock our arms as the doors opened. we moved one step at a time as we slowly entered the ceremony. to my wedding.

i shudder at the sight of everyone in the room, but i knew my eyes were only scanning to look for one person.

and when i found her, and my heart stopped.

she was watching me with a soft gaze, eyes almost twinkling as she roamed through my form, slowly taking my face, my body in the dress, and lastly, going up to meet my eyes. all i needed to make my heart flutter. i felt frozen in place, i could see everyone staring at me, wondering why i wasn't moving. my dad pulled my arm to get me out of my trance, but nothing worked.

i was there, stucked right where she left me.

on the last time i saw her. the last time my heart beated for her.

"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy.. with me.. i'll be waiting. i promise"

she was just as beautiful as i remembered her. of course i've seen pictures of her, but nothing like seeing her in person again.

our stare never breaking.

her eyes screamed 'please, love me'

and mine replied 'i do. but i shouldn't'

"are you okay?" my dad said, breaking the staring contest as i took reality of my surroundings. i shakily let out a small breath as i nodded with a fake smile. i kept walking to the altar, where i saw my... future husband.

right.

as i took my place, he took my hands in between his.

i trembled, and i swear i wanted to hear whatever the priest was saying. i really did.

but all my focus was on her.

was everyone blind for not noticing? or was everyone trying to pretend they couldn't tell how i stared at my husband's best friend?

when our eyes met again, i averted my gaze, trying really hard to pay attention to the priest talking on the altar to me and my future husband.

but god, i could not focus when she was here.

until i heard the priest coming to the end of his speech.

"if anyone has just cause to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace"

silence spreaded on the ceremony.

the quietness in the room making me shiver.

until it wasn't quiet anymore.

because everyone gasped.

and my eyes shut close.

and the quietness was replaced with whispers, with judging stares.

it wasn't quiet anymore, because she stood up.

my heart felt like it stopped in place. i could see my fiance's eyes widen, staring at se-mi like she was mad, insane.

but i knew she wasn't.

she was just in love, like i was.

and god, not from my husband.

her tall figure stood in the public, standing up as her mouth agaped like a fish. she tried to find any words to say, but she couldn't.

min-su and nam-gyu besides her, staring like if she grew a second head, completely shocked.

my eyes widen as i saw her take a sit again.

her mind was conflicted. i could tell. does she oppose? does she love quietly? what was more important? her best friend or her feelings? she shifted uncomfortably on her chair.

what was done was done, right?

fuck it. she thought, standing up once again.

everyone stared, their eyes open like never before.

"i-i oppose" she says in a weak, trembling voice. her eyes find mine, her stare pleads me to not let this keep going.

it begs me to go with her.

her hand moves to try and reach me as i watch her trembling hand and her pleading expression.

"i love you." she says with tears on her eyes.

and of course i knew this couldn't happen. of course i knew this was madness. i was about to get married. my life was buildt for this specific moment.

but my heart responded first with a sigh. not tears, not a scream, not a mad reply.

a sigh of relief.

i stare at the people sitting shocked in their seats. their gazes gravitating from her, to me and choi su-bong.

and suddenly, it's not like before. i'm not frozen in place, i'm not scared. i don't feel ashamed, i don't feel a thing.

except relief and love.

my last sign? when i stare at my parents, and they dont look at me ashamed. they're not embarrassed. they nod at me with tears in their eyes, intertwining their hands.

i get off the altar as i laugh.

a laugh of happiness. i chuckle loud and the feeling takes my entire body as i walk to her slowly. our stare never breaking as i stand in front of her, in my beautiful white dress. i reach to take her hand, the contact leaves a warm feeling on my heart.

"can we go?" are the only words that leave my lips with a shaky breath.

she stares at me, letting out an airy soft chuckle in disbelief, not believing this is happening.

"fuck, yes." is all she mutters as she moves in between the people, intertwining our hands like she never plans to release me as we run to the exit, our hearts jump in our chest.

and this is insane. i know it when we get into her rusty old car while the people gather outside to stare at us. but it doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter when my dress ruffles through the window, it doesn't matter when i buckle my seat belt with a happy smile and it certainly doesn't matter when she actually starts driving and we laugh, like a whole hearted laugh.

"you left your husband. in the altar. you left him" she says chuckling, filled with emotions. shock, disbelief, happiness.

"i- i did. and i don't regret it. god i don't regret leaving him for his.. best friend" i laugh as i stare at her. i take a deep breath as i speak "stop the car" she stops so abruptly, the car brakes.

"are you regr-" i unbuckle my seat belt as i turn aside. i cup her face in between my hands, my eyes roaming across her entire features.

this is the woman i love. it feels so good to finally say it out loud.

and i kiss her.

and is everything i always wanted to feel. it's what i expected from every single one of my ex-boyfriends. is filled with hunger, desire, passion and love.

and my heart feels warm and i know now exactly what love was supposed to feel like.

the kiss lowers to something softer, one of her hands goes to my cheek, caressing it with her thumb as my hand moves to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. her other hand roams through my body to grip my waist.

"this feels like a dream" she mumbles in between kisses.

"i know, i know" i replied as i kissed her again and again, love-drunk. "but it's not. i'm yours se-mi. i'm completely yours" i whispered against her lips as she nodded excited. her nose softly caressing mine, an intimate gesture.

"can i start the car and get the fuck out of here, please? because i never want to look back" she says breaking the kiss. i nod happily.

"please, start the fucking car" i chuckle as i go back to my seat, connecting to the bluetooth of her car, i look at the playlist on my phone until i find the one.

"i am not the kind of girl

who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion

but you are not the kind of boy

who should be marrying the wrong girl"

she smacks me softly as she listens to the lyrics, rolling her eyes as i snort.

and as my eyes find hers, i know i finally am where i belong.

known actress leaves husband on the altar!

we saw our famous girl, that we all know and love, leaving rapper ''thanos' on the altar.

the last thing we heard from him to the press was: i hope she's happy now.

and she looks like it! because she's been sharing photos on social media with her new girl non stop!

let's wish a happy relationship to the recently out of the closet actress!

[unoriginalcontent]

Been thinking a bit about this post; I do believe that to empathize with Trump voters, at least on an intellectual level, is important for purely pragmatic reasons. The idea there is that the right wing propaganda machine is a menace that no one knows how to deal with, and so if we can understand the concerns and anxieties of the conservative voter, we might have an opportunity to demonstrate how Trump is tangibly not addressing their problems and turn them against him. And hell, even if they did vote for him out of bigotry, maybe they'll still be willing to turn on him out of self-interest. However much it sucks, many of these people will not care if you simply point out that his policies harm other people. They've already set the human cost aside as acceptable losses, or else they outright support harming these people, which is why a different strategy is necessary for them. If we can get conservatives to turn on Trump, then even if it's not for the right and morally-correct reasons, that's still a win.

Of course that's all in reference to conservatives who were probably already predisposed towards whoever has an R next to their name on the ballot. When it comes to leftists who refuse to associate with democrats out of protest, I just don't know. I can understand that someone might want to vote out of self-interest and also believe that a Trump presidency is beneficial to them. Obviously they're likely to be wrong, but it's not hypocritical to have believed a lie and acted accordingly. Conversely, I think most leftists are people who will claim that government and voting shouldn't just be about self-interest, and that helping other people is a worthy end unto itself. And yeah, they should have known better.

If you're educated enough on the issues to have known all of Harris's shortcomings, how the hell do you not also know Trump's? If you know them both, how the hell can you conflate the two as equally bad?

We have this idea in the left that our systems are bad, and therefore we can never make progress until we destroy the systems entirely and build something new from the ashes. If you believe that, then please get your head out of the clouds because that's what Trump and Musk are trying to give us, and it turns out to be bad. We live in the system, we depend on the system, if we didn't then it wouldn't matter how many federal programs Trump is trying to abolish. Even if you specifically will be fine, you're writing everyone else off as an acceptable loss. It's not wrong to imagine and strive for a better world than this one, but unless you have viable alternatives ready and waiting, you won't get there by breaking things.

Maybe it's unfair to blame the current situation on people on the left who didn't vote for Harris. I don't even know how much blame matters at this point. And yet I think this is an important thing for all of us to keep in mind. Your moral clarity can be used against you. No matter how good and pure your ideals are, the real world has to come first. And right now that means acknowledging that a huge portion of our democracy chose Trump. And they don't care if you're hurt from his policies, or if I'm hurt, for a lot of these voters your suffering is probably just sugar on top. OP is absolutely right, they probably don't regret wishing leopards onto other people, but that doesn't mean it's not worth convincing them that we should stop the leopards before their faces are eaten. People are going to be poisoned by food which they voted to deregulate, and a part of me wants to think of that as justice. I feel angry. I feel spiteful. These people are taking human rights violations and touting them as victories, fuck them. But anger and spite won't fix anything, even from our side. And no matter how awful some of these people might be, together they're a hell of a voting block. I wish that I could force people to care about the suffering of others, but I can't. And so I hope that it's possible to at least get them to care about themselves.

And if you do think of yourself as progressive, and you still refused to vote for Harris, then I think OP is right, and you really do take a look at yourself. It is true that many of our problems are created and perpetuated by larger institutions beyond our control, but when it comes to democracy, it's not enough blame the system. You're a part of the system. If you don't want to participate, you need to have an alternative that is—crucially—viable, actionable, and realistic in the immediate short term. If you don't have that, which I guarantee you don't, then high-stakes elections are not the time for moral grandstanding.

Sorry for rambling here on your post, I'm probably a bit scattered. I've been having a lot of discussions with people about this sort of thing lately. Whatever strategy the left has for winning hearts and minds, it clearly hasn't worked if someone like that can still win the popular vote. I don't know how to fix that. But I think we all need to be a lot more comfortable ceding the moral high ground if it means making progress in the trenches.

Trump voters owe me financial compensation.

[thevanillerose]

SQUID GAME 2 | YANDERE SCENARIOS

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: SPOILERS / Yandere / Violence / Death A/N: Probably the most popular request I've ever gotten on this blog, was to write a sequel to Squid Game | Yandere Scenarios. Now it did take me a minute to binge Season 2, with a bestie. Mainly because I felt like it was a little too depressing to watch over the holiday season...(unless it's a 'Silent Night Deadly Night' sorta Christmas??). But now that I have, hoo boy.

Strap in.

THE SALESMAN

Your teeth ached.

You should have predicted the kind of man he was. You should have seen it coming long before this investigation started. His little subway game should have been a dead giveaway.

Was it any surprise you ended up gagged and bound in the most fucked up game of Russian Roulette you could imagine? 

Watching him slide that metal barrel up taut between his teeth was enough to make your breath catch. It was strikingly perverse, but then again, so were many of the things he had turned out to be into. And you’d ended up in too deep before you could realize that. 

For a moment though, just a moment, you wondered if maybe Heaven was smiling on you. You wondered, ever so hopefully, if that chamber may be full. If a bullet may rip right up through his skull and splatter the cheap smoke-stained motel wallpaper behind him.

It didn’t. 

You flinched at the click, and that was all.

Smiling smugly, he withdrew the gun from his mouth and slid it across the table to you again. 

“Your turn, [Y/N].”

Right now you didn’t even know what your odds were. You quit calculating your chances once more than two bullets had come into play. Hopelessness swelled in you, and you couldn’t even will yourself to pick up the gun. You sank in the seat, skin pressing to the ropes, lowering your head in pitiful defeat.

“Mm? You don’t want to play anymore?”

When he received no response from you, save for a sad shake of your head, he sighed and picked up the gun, twirling it aptly, gesturing it towards you as if it were only a toy.

“That’s no fun. I thought you were feeling lucky? Isn’t that why you came after me in the first place?”

You looked aside, ashamed. Mission failed, huh?

Now, all you expected was a pull of that trigger on his part. A gamble on your behalf, one he’d probably take a few times if that was what it took to put you down. Yet instead, it was the gun he put down instead. 

“Can I be honest with you, [Y/N]?” he asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward to look you dead in your tearful eyes.

“...I think it’s quite fortunate. That you stopped being so stubborn. That you gave up. Do you know why?”

Somehow, this already confusing man had baffled you further. And only moreso, terrifyingly moreso, when his fingers reached out to drift slowly up your cheek, coming to tug playfully on the gag and make you whimper.

“Because, alive? Like this? I can do whatever I want with you.”

That charming, disarming smile.

“Can’t I?”

THANOS

“I wanna keep playing with you. So push O, okay baby?”

His painted nails dug deep under your collarbones, like the worst kind of shoulder massage, his tall body leaning over yours and pressing against your back. His purple hair brushed your cheek, as did his breath when he spoke.

Thanos had singled you out and ‘chosen’ you from the get-go. He was arrogant enough to think he could get anyone he wanted, and you were a cute-looking challenge for him. Your initial resistance, your discomfort around him, he figured, had been nerves. 

“But it’s all good babe, stick with me and I’ll keep you safe. That’s a promise, yeah?”

Surely it didn’t have nearly nothing to do with your actual wellbeing, and more to do with keeping you in his clutches. Surely it wasn’t because he cared less about whether one of those pink limp-dicks blasted your brains out and more about making sure nothing else with a dick got near you.

Surely it wasn’t anything like that.

You were just someone who’d make a good fuck if he could bribe the guards to let you two in the bathroom alone. Just a toy for him to play around with, as he drugged himself all the way to victory.

…He tried to keep that lie strong and real in his head. But with you standing right there, back to his chest, he knew he was trying to convince himself of some serious bullshit.

There was nobody else like you. He didn’t know why, there just wasn’t.

Whatever it was, the drugs, the impending doom, the smell of money, whatever it was…one thing he simply knew for sure, was that he couldn’t let you go.

Which meant, you had to keep playing.

You had to push O.

His grip finally loosened, as your number was called. He pushed you toward the voting stand. He bit down on his chipped, painted thumb, and hoped you’d make the right choice.

Because if you didn’t? Well.

He wasn’t letting you go anyway.

HYUN-JU

It wasn’t fair.

You were so sweet. You were so innocent. You were so understanding.

Someone like you had no place in a game like this. Whatever mess it was you’d gotten yourself in, out in the real world, Hyun-ju couldn’t imagine it was bad enough to be worth staying here. Living this nightmare. She couldn’t fathom why you had voted to keep going.

There was no way you’d last. This sweet little person who called her ‘unnie’, and had told her without a shred of sarcasm that she was beautiful…you surely had too good a soul to survive in this place. You were going to die, and you were going to die horribly, she just knew it, and she couldn’t bear it.

“Unnie…would you come to the bathroom with me?”

During the night, you’d nudged and asked her almost like a child, apologetic for waking her, but clearly trusting nobody else as much. Hyun-ju obliged of course, she felt like she could do anything for you. Escorting you to the bathroom, even if it meant dealing with some difficult guards, was such a small ask.

It was the middle of the night. Everyone was resting, or trying to, at least. Trying to steel themselves with energy, a hopeful advantage in the upcoming games. So here, it was just the two of you. Alone.

“I won’t be long!” you assured her, and hurried into one of the cubicles, while Hyun-ju turned towards the sinks, leaning against one and gripping it. She gazed up at her face, brushing her cheek, remembering how you’d called her ‘beautiful’. 

You probably didn’t even realize how much that meant to her. You probably couldn’t fathom the effect you had on her.

Hyun-ju’s teeth grit and she doubled over, arms quivering as her grip on the sink’s edge steadily tightened. More and more, until her knuckles flushed in white.

I could do it.

Her head immediately shot up, staring at herself in sheer horror. How could she even consider that? 

But…what was the alternative? Let you suffer in one of these awful ‘games’? See your perfect face riddled with bullets, bloodied, ruined? Let any of those other lecherous creeps in here even have a chance of getting closer to you?

…It would be a mercy, no?

“I’m done!”

Blissfully unaware of what she was truly contemplating, you emerged again and quickly washed your hands, looking up at her with your usual, warm smile.

“Do you need to go too?” you shook your hands off, “I can wait for you, unnie.”

Hyun-ju forced a shaky smile, and shook her head.

“No…I’m fine.”

“Okay!” you gestured for her to go ahead, back to bed, back to the impossible task of trying to get any rest at all in this fucked up place.

Instead, Hyun-ju reached out and gently guided you back against the sink, standing over you. Her hand lingered near the crook of your neck, her thumb gently curling against your skin.

“...Unnie?” you looked up at her, now wide-eyed, and confused.

“...You wouldn’t blame me…right?” she whispered, softly, worriedly, like her words were pure sin. Her other hand cupped your cheek gently, and you instinctively leaned into it, confused, but happy to be held by her like this.

“...I just…I don’t want you to suffer…”

The pad of her thumb pressed harder. Her other fingers slipped lower, resting on the other side of your neck.

All she had to do was bring them together. Bring them together…and squeeze.

Squeeze until you felt nothing else. Until you could go blissfully to a happier place, with no debts, and no killing, and freedom again. Your delicate body would sink against hers, and then, somehow, she’d take herself out of here too. It could be as simple as provoking one of the guards on lavatory duty. It wouldn’t be the prettiest, but at least then, you’d be together.

Out of this place. Away from it all.

Forever-

“U-unnie?”

It was how small and suddenly so frightened your voice sounded, that startled her out of it. Her hands jerked back, hovering stiffly either side of you, as you gazed up at her with so much hurt and concern and…fear.

Fear.

You were afraid of her. The last thing she would have ever wanted.

“...W…we should get back, right? They’re going to get mad if we don’t…”

She could see the way you still tried your best to smile, and be nice, be the way you’d always been with her, but it was too late.

It was ruined. She blew it. You’d never see her the same way again.

Whether you truly knew what her intent had been or not, she could feel the awkward shift between the two of you, as she stiffly followed you out. She felt sick. Was that it? The end of this beautiful thing you had?

…Beautiful.

No. She couldn’t let it be. And as she left that bathroom, and looked at those guards, and looked at every other twisted person in that room, and looked at…you. She knew.

She was filled with a dark, delusional resolve.

Maybe killing you wasn’t the answer.

Maybe killing everyone else was.

THE FRONT MAN

Young-il had seemed like a good man.

A good man, simply in a bad place. Like the rest of you. You liked to think anyway.

It was only during this game, Mingle, that you got to see the full extent of people’s desperation. What they were willing to do, to survive, to line their pockets, or both.

It wasn’t in your nature…

“You understand, right [Y/N]!?”

It wasn’t ever…

“We’re sorry!!”

…in your nature.

You’d made a small group of companions here, but as you were the weakest link, they cut you in an instant as soon as the number needed in one of those rooms required it. Their apologies were like water, they meant nothing, as you were left standing there, lost, alone, scared.

This game…was also the first time he took action.

Messing with Gi-hun was one thing, but the Front Man wanted more than that. As soon as The Salesman had shown you to him; your red, flustered face as you had been slapped around the subway station, captured on handycam video…he had been sure of something.

It wasn’t just Gi-hun. It was you too.

Perhaps, he’d even say, you were the priority.

He liked the idea of keeping you after this was all over. Which meant, for now, assuring you stayed alive through these games.

So when he saw you abandoned, it was his time to act. He practically ripped the breath out of you with how fast he grabbed and tugged you along, throwing you into a lime green room and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

You hit the wall with a yelp, and slumped against it. But as you shakily looked to your right, and as he turned from the door and cast his sharp eyes around the room, you both saw.

You’d wanted 2. You’d gotten 3.

“H-hey, we can work this out, r–”

The man didn’t get to finish. The tears that had welled in his eyes now poured down his face as he gagged and choked and writhed against the solid arm around his neck. You gasped with horror, staggering back as tightly into the corner as you could, covering your mouth with both hands.

You watched him kill that man. Clenched jaw, staring ahead coldly, even as a living being drifted into death in his very own arms.

And only once he was sure you were in the clear…did that kindness return. That goodness, you had been so sure about.

Young-il stood, and approached you, arm outstretched so he could brush your arm gently with his palm.

“You’re alright?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Pallid and wide-eyed, feeling like you had a cord around your throat, you looked into those worried eyes and only saw softness. But you couldn’t shake seeing that hard look from earlier. Witnessing it firsthand.

His cold will. How easily he had killed.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded, but quickly moved away, muttering something about how the game must be over now. As you stepped out, he remained for a moment, glancing up at the cameras before smirking, and curling the hand that had touched you close to the mint green jacket on his chest.

Did that shock you? Really?

Then perhaps it was better if you braced yourself.

Because if it meant keeping you as his own sort of prize……he was willing to do a lot worse than that.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 1 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The training rooms smelled of sweat, determination, and dreams that didn’t come easy. Chris always lingered a little longer than the others, his eyes fixed on the mirrors, wondering if his reflection would ever transform into someone worthy of debut. For years, it was the same – watching friends reach their dreams while he stayed behind, burdened by doubt.

There was also you. You weren’t just another trainee to Chris. Sure, you were a hard worker, someone who matched his relentless pace, but you were also his anchor. Late-night conversations about dreams, shared snacks in the practice room, and bursts of laughter after a particularly tough day made the grueling years bearable. He never told you about the way his heart would race when you smiled at him or how your encouragement after his failures felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He kept that silly little teenage crush away, afraid to ruin what you two had.

But around the time Han joined the company, you decided to leave. The dream of becoming a K-pop idol didn’t burn as brightly for you anymore, and while Chris understood, he hated losing yet another close ally. One day, you were practicing next to him and the next day, you were just… gone.

The years passed. Stray Kids debuted, and Chris threw himself into his work, becoming the leader his members needed him to be. Life moved on, but every now and then, in quiet moments, he’d wonder what you were doing. 

It wasn’t until one day, years later, when he was catching up with Sana that your name came up.

“You remember Y/N?” Sana asked casually over coffee, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course, I remember her,” Chris said with a small smile. “It’s been years, though. I haven’t talked to her since…” His voice trailed off, the memory bittersweet. “I wonder how she’s doing.”

Sana grinned. “Funny you should say that. I got her number recently. Want it?”

Chris blinked, startled. “Her number?”

“Yep,” Sana said, sliding her phone toward him. “Go on. Text her. She’d probably love to hear from you.”

That night, Chris sat on his bed, your number staring back at him from his phone screen. He hesitated, typing and deleting messages, his nerves getting the better of him. Days passed before he finally worked up the courage to text you.

“Hey, this is Chris. Sana gave me your number. It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Chan hit send and immediately regretted it. What if you didn’t reply? What if you didn’t want to talk to him at all? He set his phone down, trying to distract himself, but every buzz made his stomach flip.

A few hours later, his phone lit up.

“Chris as in Christopher Bang Chan?”

He smiled, relief washing over him as he quickly typed back. “Yeah, it’s me. This is Y/N, right?”

Your reply came almost instantly: “Yeah. It’s been ages! I can’t believe you’re texting me!”

Chris hesitated for a moment, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before replying, “I’ve missed you. I hope you’re doing well.”

There was a brief pause before your next message arrived: “I am, thanks. You too. I’m proud of you. I’ve watched your MVs – You’ve come so far.”

The thought of you keeping up with his career sent a rush of warmth through him. He stared at your message for a moment, rereading it before typing back. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You know that, right?”

Your reply came with a teasing tone that made him laugh out loud. “Once you’re famous and living the idol life, you forget to text old friends, huh? 😜”

“Hey, I’m here now!” he shot back.

And just like that, the ice was broken. Over the next few days, your texts became constant – snippets of your lives, fond memories of the trainee days, and playful banter. It felt like no time had passed, and yet, in some ways, everything had changed.

One day, Han caught Chris grinning at his phone in the corner of the dorm. It was rare to see their leader so visibly relaxed, much less smiling to himself. Intrigued, Han leaned in, nearly giving Chris a heart attack.

“Hyung, who’s got you giggling like that? Is it someone I know?”

Chris scrambled to lock his phone. “It’s nothing, it’s just...an old friend. Do you remember Y/N from when we were trainees?”

Hearing him say your name, Han’s curiosity only grew. “Not really, but you were pretty close right? Hyung, why are you just texting? You should meet her. It’s been years, right? I bet she’d love to catch up.”

Chris hesitated. Meeting you in person? That thought felt heavier than he expected. He wasn’t sure why.

“Hyung.” Han’s tone softened, sensing his hesitation. “You’ve told me stories about her. She meant a lot to you back then, right? What’s stopping you?”

It was a question Chris couldn’t easily answer, but it nudged him to act. A few days later, after much internal debate, he texted you.

“How about coffee this weekend? There’s this café I like. We could catch up properly.”

Your response was quick and enthusiastic: “I’d love that! Let me know the place and time.”

-----

The café was warm and inviting, its earthy tones and gentle lighting creating a cozy ambiance. Chris arrived first, nervously fiddling with his phone as he waited. He hadn’t seen you in years, and the thought of reconnecting stirred a mix of excitement and anxiety. Would he recognize you? Would it feel the same as it did back then?

When the bell above the door chimed, Chan looked up, and there you were. You hadn’t changed much, and yet, you looked so different. The teenage girl he remembered had matured into someone who carried themselves with quiet confidence. Your smile was the same, though, lighting up your face as you spotted him.

“Chris,” you greeted, and the sound of his name in your voice felt like a time machine.

He stood, unsure whether to hug you or shake your hand, but you made the decision for him, pulling him into a warm embrace. “It’s been forever,” you said, pulling back to look at him. “You haven’t changed.”

Chris chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You have – in a good way. You look… happy.”

The two of you ordered drinks and found a quiet corner. The conversation started easy – catching up on the basics, sharing stories from your lives since those trainee days. But as the initial excitement settled, the mood grew more reflective.

“Do you regret it?” Chris asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but his gaze was intense, searching your expression for any flicker of doubt. “Leaving the company, I mean. Giving up on… that dream.”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering his question. “No,” you said finally, your voice steady. “I don’t regret it, Chris. After I quit I realized that I was chasing something that wasn’t really mine to chase. I think I was trying to prove something to myself, or maybe to others.”

You paused, hesitating before continuing. “I realized after I left that the dream I really wanted… it was never an option for me. Producing music, having creative control—it was never going to happen as a girl in a girl group, not in that company, not at that time. They had a mold, and I didn’t fit into it. Once I understood that, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I stopped trying to be someone I wasn’t.”

Chris’ eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them. “That… must’ve been tough to come to terms with.”

“It was,” you admitted. “I was angry for a while, at myself, at the system. But after I left, I started to see that it wasn’t the end. There’s more than one way to make a dream come true, and the path I’m on now—it feels right for me. I’m happy where I am.”

Chris nodded, processing your words. “You always seemed so sure of yourself back then. I guess I just… I admired that.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I wasn’t as sure as you think. But thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

There was a moment of quiet, the café’s gentle hum filling the space between you. Then Chris tilted his head slightly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Do you still do music? Like creating or singing?”

You smiled, the question sparking something warm in you. “Yeah, I do. It’s just a hobby now, though. I write and sing at home when I feel like it. It’s… different from before, but it brings me a lot of joy.”

“That’s great,” Chris said sincerely. “I’m glad you haven’t let it go completely. Music was always such a big part of who you are.”

You nodded, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. “It still is. But right now, I haven’t really been doing much with it. I just moved back to Seoul recently, so I’m still settling in. Once things are a bit more stable, I’d love to dive back into it.”

“You moved back?” Chris asked, his eyes lighting up. “How long ago?”

“Just a couple of months,” you said. “I wanted a change, and Seoul felt like the right place to be.” Then, after a brief pause, you added, “You know, once everything’s in order, you should come by sometime. I’ve been meaning to show someone my music setup—well, when I finally unpack it all.”

Chris’ eyes widened slightly in surprise, then softened with a warm smile. “Yeah? I’d like that. It’d be nice to hear what you’ve been working on since.”

“It’s nothing fancy – no chart-topping masterpieces” you said quickly, brushing off the compliment with a wave of your hand. “But it’s always fun to share it with someone who gets it.”

“I’d love to,” he said, his sincerity unmistakable. “Just let me know when you’re ready. No rush.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the café windows, the two of you lingered, caught in a space that felt timeless. There was something comforting about reconnecting, about seeing the ways you had both changed and grown, yet still finding the same thread of understanding that had tied you together all those years ago.

pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | masterlist

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[hoiststowline]

could you do a mindless touches for hound and ratchet and another bot of your choice (if you're interested)? I love what you wrote for that prompt!

[a/n: yeah!! these are sm fun to write! here’s part one !]

mindless touches & other sentiments [hound, ratchet, & spinister]

hound is a firm believer in showing affection in physical touch, whether in the form of high fives, pats on the back, or holding you close. of course, certain things are saved for behind closed doors, more intimate and mushy than necessary for the public eye. he’s not exactly the guy for pda, but in certain instances, he can’t help himself, especially when you look at him like that. he’s sneaky, but also guilty of pinching the fabric of your shirt to get your attention, patiently waiting for you to look his way so he can steal a kiss. or two. 

anyone who has taken the moment to speak to hound knows he’s kindhearted and compassionate, unyielding in most respects. this translates through most of his conversations and mannerisms, knowing that there’s probably very few things you could do that would ever make him change the way he feels about you. he adores his s/o, and getting to snuggle with you after painfully long hours is probably his number one cure for a bad day. as it is yours, hound can tell straight away when the hours haven’t been kind to you. “come here,” he’ll say, understanding without much context that you just want to be held.

his versions of lots of things fill your heart with so much love. quite obviously, there is much that he wants to do for you, but can’t, so he finds loopholes just so he can see you smile. he loves to see you smile, that familiar twinge of red atop your cheeks in the form of a blush. a lot of the time, one thing you’ve found that he does without thinking is slowly nudging you into the crook of his arm. especially if he’s at his desk or you’re within reach, almost effortlessly he’ll bring an arm around your form and gently guide you there, as he continues to work on whatever occupies his attention, though not for much longer. 

personally I feel like ratchet is the king of mindless touches. he will gently nudge or poke you while typing, grazing your thigh or knee with his pinky just because. half the time he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, and somehow his hand always ends up in your lap. he will scoff and completely disagree if you try to point it out, trying to tug himself free at your observation but you beg for him to keep his hand there. while it’s totally his call whether or not he does, he’ll roll his eyes and let you win, trying to ignore your soft touches across the back of his servo. 

he also appreciates acts of encouragement. if you initially offer him a high five, he wouldn't have been looking for it and is confused by your offer. now, when there are small or large successes, courtesy of the doctbot, he presents his hand to you in search of the sentiment. he isn't even looking your way half the time, its a knee-jerk reaction and won't pull back until you tap your palm against his. it's a more public display of his attentiveness and endearment towards you, even if he knows it's a reflex to appear standoffish. there's grander actions and meanings behind the way he acts, you'll decipher them and won't pressure him, something that he admires about his s/o.

lets you crash whenever or wherever you end up. no arguments or questions asked, ratchet understands the importance of rest and would never expect you to stay awake well into the morning while he works. most often, you curl up against his side, entranced by the hum of his spark and cherishing his company. this is more-so in the privacy of closed doors, certainly, though if anyone were to see such a display, it wouldn't bother him. "they fell asleep," he'd minutely shrug, then return to his work as if nothing ever happened.

spinister loves to run his digit up and down the length of your spine, a comforting action that not only calms you, but him as well. it's a gesture that occurs the most frequently, whether that be if you were settled on his lap or sprawled out across his desk or berth. it quite often puts you right to sleep, nodding off and eerily impressed at how soft and featherlight his touch is against your shoulders and lower back. he continues the same motion well after you've fallen asleep, afraid you'll wake up from much needed rest if he ceases. he doesn't mind, it started off as a automatic undertaking whenever you sought his company.

'holds' your hand, though it's more of a grey area in the definition. you lose your non-dominant hand for large sweeps of time, as he holds it captive in his large servo. his plating is often cool to the touch, so it's not an overbearing gesture, but if he isn't doing that, he's allowed you to haul yourself free only to inspect each of your fingers. running his thumb over your knuckles and retracting his face-shield to pepper kisses across your palm. it's habitually unspoken and wordless action with spinister, even if he's sometimes nervous of hurting you or doing something that would take that smile away.

hugs are his favorite. you hardly have to ask, appear anywhere within a mile radius of him with outstretched arms and it's like he senses it, booking it to wherever you are. loves nuzzling his cheek against yours, holding you close to his face with two hands. pda is no obstacle, he doesn't care at all, but if you're a more privatized person regarding it, no questions asked. spinister respects all your wishes and only wants you to be as happy as he is, if not more, mesmerized by your laughter and smiley appearance. he is the happiest mech alive when you are in his arms, and hopes the emotion translates well enough through his actions when he can't quite find the right words to articulate his adoration for his s/o.

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

pleaseee can you make some daisuke x fem!tradgoth reader (you can make it nsfw i don't mind) i can't find anything and i think it would be soso cute

Daisuke x fem! Tradgoth Reader [sfw+nsfw]

an: I heart Alt x Normie couples so much ashaslkfja. I'm not exactly Trad goth but I love love love the style.

[MDNI because I'm an 18+ account, and there's some nsfw in this.]

mdni banner: cafe kitsune

cw(s): fem reader, some stereotypical alt x normie scenarios, not full on porn but sexual situations.

SFW (pre-dating)

You made the first move! You saw his little happy sunshine ass and was like "oh yeah, i need him."

He was a regular at his local arcade-which just so happens to be the same place you work at! It's one of the few places that didn't have a strict dress code, so you didn't have to de-gothify yourself too much for work.

You would watch him when he came in, his main games being those dancing rhythm games, or the space shooters. He was fantastic at dance dance revolution but sucked at space invaders. It was cute honestly, watching him fail and come up the counter for hours on end to get change to try again at the games.

Most customers were a little put off by you, intimidated by your fashion choice. Not Daisuke. He appreciates fashion, even fashion he doesn't quite understand

He found your style unique, there weren't many goths-let alone full on trad goths in your area so you stood out. He asked you about goth stuff when he could, interested in why you dressed the way you did.

Not maliciously! he's just curious.

He (in a lighthearted way) gave you the nickname Wednesday after you wore a similar dress on one of your more laid back days.

SFW (Dating)

Like I said, you made the first move. While he was the one who probably fell first, he cannot talk to women (or anyone he's attracted to) for the life of him. When the relationship was still fresh he was constantly stuttering and fidgety.

Somewhere within the first few weeks he confessed that part of the reason he was attracted to you was because of some cartoon character he had a crush on as a kid. Obviously your personality was the main thing-that was just an added bonus.

You introduce him to a few goth bands, it's not his favorite genre but he does give each song you recommend to him a listen. ( I have a feeling he would like some of The Cure's music, Maybe a couple of The Sisters of Mercy songs too.)

He lets you do his makeup sometimes, but he loves watching you get ready on your more elaborate days. Has tried to do your makeup for you but his hands aren't as steady so your eyeliner ends up crooked.

Thrifted you a bunch of cool fishnet shirts and various black clothing pieces for your wardrobe.

For an anniversary gift one year he managed to find this really badass Victorian vanity for you. It's now happily sitting in your bedroom.

Loves going to goth clubs with you, the dancing makes him feel so free AND he gets to spend it with his smokin' hot goth girlfriend? fuck yeah!

He doesn't use any super gothy nicknames for you, though he secretly likes it when people say you're like Morticia and Gomez.

Will passive aggressively defend you from any of those 'goth dommy mommy' freaks who try hitting on you.

NSFW

a She Wants Revenge song has played at least ONCE while y'all fucked. (i've seen a few memes about this and thought it would be funny to include)

Secretly likes it when you still have your makeup on, especially black lipstick. Seeing it smudged after you two finish making out or you sucking him off?? hot, like really hot.

bonus points if you leave hickeys on him and a trail of lipstick marks.

he loves seeing you undressed, but seeing you in some dark lingerie really really gets him going.

he worries about making you feel objectified so he doesn't do the whole "oguhgh big tiddy goth gf" shit ( unless you're into that wink wink)

[kamospeach]

if you love me won't you let me know .ᐟ

plot: fratboy!choso who can't help but let his guard fall for you kinda.

content warning: angsty, softdom!choso (ofc), alcohol and drug use, black coded, intoxicated sex, crossfaded, dry humping, piv sex, fingering, handjob, cowgirl, missionary, oral mention m!recieving, degradation (reader is called a bitch, slut, and a whore) ;P

peachy's yap: wc 4.4k .ᐟ based off my chats with this c.ai bot and this choso fanart. this is a pt.1 so there WILL be a 2nd part whether you like it or not :3 ! and maybe even a third? pt. 2

"c'mon y/n... you know we're not goin' in without you!" your best friend groaned as she stood with you by the car. you had agreed to drop your best friend and your extra friends off at this week's frat party. you didn't want to go knowing you were in for sweat, weed, and must.

"i'm not goin' in there, it probably stink," you said and your other friend rolled her eyes. really you were avoiding running into any of the frat guys. truth be told you were a sucker for em' and you knew if you went it was all over. and that's how you met him.

your friends promised they'd stay by your side the whole time. so how did you end up sitting on a dingy couch next to choso? who was drinking out of a red solo cup and a blunt perched behind his ear. he looked at you smiling at your awkward smile. you had no idea who this man was other than you'd seen him around campus once or twice.

"here alone?" he asked sitting the cup down on the table and you shake your head. you couldn't deny that he was very very good-looking. his hair in two buns short bangs in his face that he had to keep moving. his natural dark circles around the eyes gave him a tired and nonchalant look.

"nah my friends around here somewhere..." you tell him and he nods fixing his shirt that was practically begging for mercy around his large biceps.

the shirt wasn't long enough for his long torso, so every time he lifted his arms to fix his bangs his happy trail showed. his baggy jeans hung low on his waist displaying a part of his white boxers. he wore white air forces that tied the whole fit together. not only was he attractive, he could dress and that only pulled you in even more.

"you must like bein' alone?" choso questioned removing the blunt from his ear. he lit the blunt letting the smoke fill his lungs and looking you up and down.

"yeah, i was forced to come in here. i'd prefer to be asleep in my bed right now," you chuckled getting more comfortable in your seat. it was going to be a long night, might as well settle in.

"agreed..." he huffed out not only from releasing the smoke but from exhaustion. you raised a brow now interested in this mysterious-looking man.

"so why are you here... go home and sleep." you laughed looking at him as if it was common sense.

"this is my home... plus i’m on cleanin' duty." he smiled and your frown dropped, he... lived here? your eyes ran over him one last time before you noticed the wristband on his wrist. the exact same greek letters printed on the outside of this frat house were on his bracelet.

"you're in this frat?" you asked with a raised brow and he nodded with a laugh.

"that unbelievable?" he asked and you frowned looking him up and down. truthfully you took him for the emo type one of those guys who found frat life corny.

"now that you mention it... not really," you admitted thinking about how he wore the shirt. yes, most of the frat men had no shirts on and were screaming in the backyard of the house. you guessed that he wasn't a frat boy because he was quietly sitting here smoking.

"what's your name?" he asked looking at you with a glance and you smiled.

"y/n? and you're um..." you racked your brain for his name sure you've been told it.

"choso..." he laughs at your thinking face and you nod. "nice to meet you y/n." he smiles.

"nice to meet you too choso," you repeat back just as one of your extra friends flops down next to you sighing. she giggled hitting your leg and getting your attention (you definitely weren't staring at choso who talked to satoru while smoking his blunt). you turned away looking at her, her lip liner and gloss smudged an obvious sign she kissed someone.

"who did you kiss?" you asked furrowing your brows and she giggled. her and your three other friends were off their asses. your best friend seemed drunk too but not insanely drunk.

"m' not tellin' you." she slurred laughing knowing you'd tell her off. judging by her reaction you knew it was her ex and you laughed. ryomen stumbled in pink lip gloss covering his lips.

"you ashamed of me?" he slurred looking down at your friend who just giggled. the second hand embarrassment was kicking in and you grabbed her pulling her up.

"c'mon time to go," you said and all your other friends helped you carry her.

"i can get your number?" choso asked watching you walk away with your friend's arm thrown around your shoulder.

"maybe another time... gotta make sure my girls get home safely." you smile small and walk away carrying your friend who fell limp.

when you went home that night you thought about choso. something about him being in a frat made him even more attractive. after your shower and your night routine, you sat in your bed going to the frat's instagram. just your luck the most recent post was of choso, satoru, and suguru. you clicked on his tag opening up his instagram and your jaw dropped.

although he was a sweet and soft person from what it seemed like his instagram was full of thirst traps. every post except one he had his shirt off, two at the pool, and three dripping in sweat at a party. you were hypnotized by the dragon tattoo that ran down his ribcage and below the band of his sweats.

he had a tattoo on his pecks that moved down to his arm that looked as if his sleeve wasn't completely done. then there was the tattooed stripe across his nose that you didn't completely understand. honestly that added to the appeal it was different and even this far away you were eager to run your fingers over it. he was the exact opposite of what you expected, he was actually slutty and outgoing.

you and your friends sat around a table looking at your phone. they were fangirling over satoru while you couldn't stop staring at choso in every picture. you didn't make it obvious just watching them school and focusing on a specific pigtailed man.

"what're y'all lookin' at?" satoru asked trying to lean over the small huddle y'all had going on. you quickly cut the phone off seeing a lot of the frat here. aside from suguru satoru and choso, there were about 6 other guys.

"none of your business," you said looking away from gojo and diverting your eyes to choso. he stood at the back of the crowd quietly waving you over. you giddily stood up walking over to him enjoying the different style on him.

he wore a black sweatshirt and a beanie his hair was down and some was even in his face. his jeans were baggy with a chain hanging from his belt look. he finished the outfit with black timbs and the same chains from last night.

"hey," you smiled looking up at choso who sent a warm smile back to you. you couldn't get over the sheer beauty of this man.

"hey, what're you up to this weekend?" he asked and your brow raised shrugging. you were curious as to why he was asking. your mind ran through many different scenarios. he could be asking you out or he could be trying to get you in his bed. although both sounded good it didn't mean that's what you wanted from him.

"nothin' what's up?" you asked batting your lashes and looking up at the man who was insanely taller than you. something you weren't able to tell sitting on the couch with him last night.

"we're having an invite-only party. gojo was gonna invite you, but i wanted to personally invite you myself," he smirked down at you and that was the choso from the pictures. it scared you just a little how quickly he flipped from nice to fratboy choso.

"we'll be there." you give him a small smile before heading back to your friends. the fratboy clique made their exit as if they were in a romcom. it was a little corny for you but watching choso leave made a small frown come on your face.

"gojo invited us to the party, we know you don't want to go but can you just drop us off?" your friend asks and you laugh shaking your head.

"no, i'm going this time," you say and the group falls silent looking at you. the party yesterday was only the 5th party you have been to in your whole college experience. in all of your 4 years in college, you had never willingly gone to a party. all 5 you had gone to you were forced to attend by said friends who are shocked by your compliance.

"why?" your best friend asked, eyes squinting and examining your face. your face was hot thankfully your brown skin didn't make it obvious. you didn't want them to think you were only going because of choso. but you couldn't hold in your attraction you just had to tell your friends.

"well you know choso?" you say and they all nod.

"the emo one?" one of your friends frowned up in disgust and you shook your head vigorously.

"i mean emo looking yes, but he's a slut on insta," you say pulling out your phone and showing them his page. they ooo'd and awed at his socials where he obviously had no restraint. "he personally invited me to the party, i can't disappoint my man." you laugh looking down at your nails 'need to get those done' you thought to yourself. meanwhile one of your friends snatched the phone from your best friend and they accidentally clicked on the follow button.

"um, y/n..." she mumbled and your head whipped to look at your phone seeing the once blue bottom now gray saying 'following'. your glare became intense and you looked at your friends who averted your gaze.

"are you guys kiddin' me!" you yelp grabbing the phone to quickly unfollow him only to see a notification pop up saying 'chosoxkamo followed you back'. your friends' jaws were dropped looking up at you and you swallowed your spit hard.

"okay see that went well... no need to get angry." your best friend said as you breathed in and out. "woosah, woosah. see everything's... oh." she trailed off looking at the phone. not only did your friends accidentally follow him, but sometime while passing the phone back and forth they liked a photo of him from 2022... 3 years ago.

"so if i kill you all..." you said and they all jumped up trying to get you to calm down once again.

that day choso liked every one of your posts. even the latest one from 2020 which made you feel even better about the situation. he replied to your close friends story of you standing in your mirror in short shorts and a crop top. even flirted with you telling you that you couldn't even imagine the things he'd do to you.

you thought about it every day even though the conversation lasted all of 10 minutes on the first day he followed you. the week had passed and now you were pregaming. shots after shot and you were so drunk before you could even climb into your best friend's cousin's car.

you giggled waving to your friend to pass her wax pen taking a hit from it. you needed to be intoxicated you needed to be off your ass to even face choso. you had made up in your mind that you were going to give him what he wanted.

of course, you wanted it too, you wanted him to do those unimaginable things to you. you knew you wanted him this whole week so no matter what happened tonight you would have him.

the car stopped and you quickly got out of the car eager to go inside. as you walked in there were at least 60 to 70 people there. nothing compared to the almost 200 the first time you came. you stumbled around until you ran into gojo who you scoffed at.

"don't act like that with me... you've been so mean to me bunny." the nickname rolled off his tongue like honey which wasn't a surprise since he always used that same tone to say your name.

"i'm telling you these two have been so mean lately." geto grumbled arms wrapped around your best friend who squealed. they were always the cutest couple ever since your last year of middle school. you four grew up together a group of troublemakers really. even resorting to going to the same college to never break up the friend group.

"well gojo's been a little fuckboy since you guys got in this frat, haven't seen him since," you say arms crossed and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders hugging you tightly.

"no i haven't been a fuckboy i've only been fucking that one girl with the big ass." he smiled and you gasped trying to fight your way out of his grip. "someone's jealous," he whispered and you looked around not knowing who he was talking about.

he grabbed your jaw facing you to look directly at choso who was looking at the both of you. his brows pulled as he watched gojo arm wrap around your waist. he squeezed your cheeks making your lips squish into a pout.

"hey quit." you snap swatting his arm to get him to let go of you. gojo waves at choso and you look at choso giving him a shy wave. he got up from the barstool making his way over as gojo playfully pulled you towards the couch. it almost felt as if choso was chasing you as gojo's hand wrapped around your wrist.

as you got to the couch there was only one seat left. 4 couches and all 4 were full. some people were lapped up and others sat on the floor between other's legs.

gojo pulled up the same girl he spoke about earlier (the one he has been fucking for years and has yet to make it official) slipping under her and kissing her cheek. you felt uncomfortable standing in front of everyone who seemed to be looking at you. you felt someone walk up behind you and you turned seeing choso.

"you comfortable to sit on my lap?" he asked and you nodded shyly as he gripped your waist. your body was pulled into his as he sat you in his lap. you were stiff at first feeling more and more comfortable as his hand massaged your thigh. you sat sideways on his lap engaging in conversation. your friends giving you knowing glances although you looked comfortable.

inside you were a ticking time bomb. you needed choso really bad right now and your lower areas were getting hot. time passed and you were getting hotter and hotter thinking about all the nasty things the two of you could be doing in this position.

"i'm ready to leave..." you mumble to no one in particular. people were leaving and the party was getting drier by the minute. only one of your friends was left and she was waiting for you.

"i can take you home." choso offered and you hummed. you really wish you could leave with him but there was no way in hell you were leaving your girl behind.

"i'm not leaving without my friend," you said shaking your head not even contemplating the idea.

"you live in the same dorm building yeah? i'll take you both if she doesn't mind," he said and you shrugged one thing you noticed about your college self was that you didn't care who you were getting in the car with. if someone had a car and somebody knew them even a little you'd hop in.

you asked your friend if she was ready to leave and if she minded riding with choso. she said she didn't mind so the three of you left out of the frat house. you sat in the passenger of the car he played music so it wouldn't be as awkward.

choso kept trying to touch your thigh but you swatted it away. he was embarrassing you and your friend was in the back. you gave him a stern look that only lasted on your face for a little while as you laughed. he finally stopped trying as you pulled up to your dorm.

your friend left out thanking choso for the ride and you turned to look at him. it was your only chance to ask, not really but you'd never be as bold as you are right now. never again in your life would you have the guts to say what you just did.

"want to stay the night?" you asked his eyes widened at your suggestion not expecting that. he nodded as you both left out of the car and went upstairs to your dorm. luckily you had the dorm to yourself since your cousin was at the frat house with geto.

choso took off his jeans and shirt leaving him only in a wife beater and basketball shorts. you had changed into your pajama set that left little to the imagination. you turned on the tv before setting the remote next to the bed. once again liqour courage clouded your better judgment as you climbed onto the bed straddling his waist.

"you're bold tonight." choso said as you smirked at him. not much else was said as you shrugged slowly leaning into choso. he got the hint and met your lips with his. the kiss was rushed and sloppy your tongues sliding along each other as you kissed nastily.

your hands wrapped around his neck as you played in his hair. his right hand found solace on your ass cheek and his left arm wrapped around your waist. your hips ground into his, your clothed clit rubbing against his clothed dick.

"wanna fuck that pussy so bad," he grunted helping your hips move faster. the friction giving the both of you immense pleasure. "fuck this shit." he huffed lifting you and moving you next to him so he could pull down his shorts and boxers in one go.

you didn't think choso would be big and he wasn't huge. a solid 7 and a half inches but he was so girthy your hands almost didn't fit around him. you jerked him as his hips bucked in your hands. you moved your hands slowly and sensually as choso let out a guttural sound at the feeling.

choso head was leaned back as he looked at you with half-lidded eyes. he watched your legs rub together as you got needier and needier. to quench your thirst he reached out yanking your tiny shorts down and moving your thong to the side.

"wet all for me?" he asked and you nodded whining as his fingers swirled around your clit. you hips rocking against his hand forgetting all about giving him a handjob. "keep going mama you can't be the only one gettin' something here." he tells you and you listen without hesitation going back to stroking him.

he slipped two fingers into your drenched pussy not giving you time to process. he finger fucked you quickly watching your body fall forward at the feeling. you were moaning uncontrollably trying to keep up the pace for choso but you couldn't.

"ch...choso i c...can't." you moaned your words being broken up by your moans and jagged pants.

"can't what?" he asked grabbing your neck and pulling your face closer to his. you were forehead to forehead as your hips rolled against his hands. he pecked your lips looking into your eyes and he smiled at your eyes rolling back in your head. "can't wait for me to stretch that pussy?"

"mmmmmhm." you hummed now riding his fingers and choso laughed at how needy you are.

"you want to ride my cock? huh, you needy bitch?" he said and the dirty talk flying from his mouth only turned you on more. usually, if a man called you a bitch it was wraps but something about it coming from his mouth made it okay. you reached into your nightstand grabbing a condom.

"why do you have that?" he looked at you and you shrugged.

"health center meeting." you smiled sheepishly and choso snorted at your shy smile.

he grabbed your wrist taking the condom from you and tearing it open. he handed it back to you letting you roll it on. you watched how intensely you looked down at what you were doing as if it was an exact science.

"c'mere," he said moving you back to straddling his waist your essence dripping on his lap. choso wasted no time grabbing your hips and sliding you down onto him. the stretch was immaculate as pleasure coursed through your body. his head instinctively thrown back as the warmth and grip overwhelmed him.

"ughh w...wait." you moaned out stopping before he was all the way in. this position already made him feel deep in you but his thickness was overwhelming.

"i'm almost all the way in just let me... fuck." he grunted as you sat all the way down on him. you ground your hips into his enjoying the friction but choso was too eager. he pulled your shirt down and your breast fell out in his face. once you felt ready you planted your feet next to him and began to bounce.

moans and groans flew around the room as the two of you basked in each other. he grabbed one of your breasts taking it into his mouth. tongue swirling around your nipple biting lightly enough to make your body flinch at the pinch.

even though your pace never faltered and choso loved every minute of it. eventually, your legs were getting tired and choso felt like he was getting bitched. he didn't mind not being in control but he was getting tired of it, and fast.

without warning he flipped you too over and your legs wrapped around his waist. his eyebrows knitted together as he felt your cunt clench around him. you unlocked your ankles allowing him to begin his assault on your cervix.

"you like that huh? being fucked like a slut." he groaned as you screamed out pushing his hips. the feeling was too much and you were coming up on your climax quickly. "yeah... you're such whore aren't you?"

"mhmm." you hum not even paying attention to his words. not because you didn't want to but because you were so cock drunk you couldn't even think. your walls were tightening around him the dirty talking making it worse.

choso pounded into you, your twin xl banging against the wall. you knew someone would be complaining in the dorm group chat. but right now you're in bliss loving the way choso was fucking you to your climax.

"shit mama i'm close. you gonna cum with me?" he asked as he quickened his pace knowing you were getting closer and closer.

"fuckk yes yes... wan' cum with you," you babbled as each stroke fucked every thought out of your brain.

"such a good girl... cum with me." you both moaned as you came together. he stilled inside as you tried to catch your breath. he pulled out taking the condom off as you lay there. he got up to throw away the condom and clean you off.

there wasn't much that happened after that honestly. once you both got cleaned up you put your clothing back on. not one word was exchanged after that. the air was thick and it was very awkward.

you started to regret it, you had known him for only a week. how could you. a frat boy at that he'd never take you seriously. but he came back to bed and laid next to you. wrapping his arms around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. the only thing that was said between the two of you was 'good night'.

the next day when you woke up you expected to be wrapped in choso's arms. only to feel nothing wrapped around you and your bed was empty. no note, no chain left, no text on insta, and no indication that he was ever really here. it was almost as if he was just a figment of your imagination.

you had to go about your day so you got up. got ready for class and made your way to campus. you kept checking your phone hoping for a text from him something to let you know he still fucked with you. but as the day went on you were feeling sick in your stomach. there was no way this was happening.

you sighed as you walked into the library looking for a book you needed for your class. as you were looking for the book you spotted two pigtails knowing who it was.

"choso?" you asked rounding the corner only for him to look up at you. he blinked a couple of times and looked back down at the book he was holding. he walked down another aisle and you followed him there. "what the fuck is your problem?" you asked stressed about the whole situation.

"do i know you?" he asked and your jaw dropped in shock... no way he was acting like that.

"you can't be serious." you laughed looking at him as he still avoided your eye contact. he huffed running his hand down his face.

"you can't take a hint can you?" he shook his head closing the book and finally looking at you. "it was a one-night thing, don't get your feelings wrapped in it."

"you're a bitch, you have to act like a player because this is the first time you got pussy for real," you whisper yelled throwing the book at his chest. walking out of the library... that might have been the cringiest thing you've done. and you cussed yourself in your head, you actually needed that book for class tomorrow.

[4lexnilsen]

“that’s what it was,  yeah…”   alex absently agrees,  nodding his head and sucking on his still bleeding lip.   a fresh wave of guilt fills his heart and he hears himself saying,   “i think most people are just jealous of you.   you have everything,  helena.”   and it’s no excuse for bullying,  but in a way it is an explanation.   “i can only speak for myself and although i don’t see you as a rich,  entitled brat,  i am very much jealous of what you have.   and i’m not even talking about the money,  that doesn’t mean much to me.”   even though,  it must be nice to never worry about getting a job or wondering how you’re going to pay the rent.   “you were right about me.   i wish i had a dad like yours.   yours wants to give you the world while mine doesn’t even know when my birthday is.”   shoulders shrugging faintly underneath the puffer jacket like it’s no big deal,  eyes flickering back onto the road when they begin to sting.   “and so people attack your family or your upbringing because they’re jealous,  but believe me,  if given the opportunity,  they’d swap lives with you in a heartbeat.   you’re not a horrible person.”   he glances down at her hand lingering on his skin,  butterflies fluttering in the pit of his belly,  making him simultaneously nauseous and infatuated.      

“is that a hammer?   what were you planning to use it for?”   he laughs dryly,  somewhat amused by the contents of his friend’s pockets but still very much disgusted with himself.   but the mere memory of their very first meeting has his features softening,  a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips,  causing the wound to reopen.   not that it bothers him.   he feels so warm and tingly,  confused feelings brewing deep inside.   “you saved my life that day,  i’m not even kidding.”   maybe in a way he’s managed to pay his debt tonight by disarming harry.   “oh,  then i’ll get mine virgin,  too.   i’m not much of a drinker.   i’m actually pretty famous for always bringing a book to the bar.   that’s my thing.”   it’s very kind of her to offer him a ride back home,  but the bar that he has in mind is only a few blocks away from his apartment so there will be no need for that.   “yeah,  of course,”   he agrees,  focusing on driving and turning the radio on so that it can fill the silence between them.   katy perry’s old song is playing,  the one that got away,  and alex finds himself sinking his teeth into his busted lip to keep from getting emotional.   stupid song.   

they circle the block a few times before alex finds an open spot,  right outside the small corner bar that he’s been telling helena about.   its neon sign flickering half-heartedly,  but there are quite a few people inside.   this place is the opposite of that fancy lounge,  its patrons stink of vodka and cigarettes and don’t drive rolls royce,  but maybe that’s exactly what they need.   a change of scenery.   the black mustang pulls in,  barely fitting between two beat-up sedans.   “alright,  here we are,”   he mutters,  cutting the engine and unbuckling his belt before climbing out into the cool night.   he circles the car and opens helena’s door for her,  offering her a hand,  but doubting she’ll be willing to take it.   the air around them smells like wet concrete and distant food trucks,  but at least the hum of traffic has all but faded away.   inside the bar,  it’s warm and dim,  which alex figures works in their favor —   at least no one will ask questions about their faces.   does it look like they were in a domestic brawl?   probably.   he leads his friend over to the wooden bar,  helping her slide into a high stool.   shoulders brushing as he takes a seat beside her.   he orders them a round of some fruity beverages,  virgin.   and when the bartender places two glasses in front of them,  with sugar-dusted rims,  he doesn’t even realize the guy didn’t hear the last part.   there’s rum in their strawberry daiquiris,  but as he takes a sip,  he can’t really tell a difference.   “so…   what a night,  right?”

"i've took a lot of self defense classes and such, but i don't think that was it. i think that was just anger talking, i just had enough of being called a rich entitled bitch. like i'm some horrible person for things out of my control, i can't help who i was born to." another curse word she'll repent for. but remnants of anger are still left soaring through her, when you have been judged for it your entire life you finally realize you're not going to take it so lightly anymore. "no." she answers, she doesn't know who she is. but she's guessing she's someone who frequents the lounge looking for what she got tonight... or was. since she's sure she and alex have ruined their mood.

dumping her pockets of all the tools she had them filled with... screw driver, taser, mini hammer, phone. head turns towards him when his fingers touch her cheek, setting off an unwanted spark to burn beneath her chest. "i do have one." a first-aid kit, that's always a number one thing to have. "ever since you needed a walgreens trip, i've been inspired to keep one." helena would laugh, almost there with the start of a smile at the fond memory, until the said memory fades along with the smile that was just beginning to bloom across her face with ache because that was before everything he said to her tonight that's made her view him as a different person. words are not quickly forgotten, unfortunately. and now everything's tainted. even her favorite memories of him.

"let's go there, then. i'll get mine virgin though." not telling him it's because she's never drunk before, he'll make fun of her for it. "you'll need someone sober to drive you afterwards." she claims, pretending the tears stinging her eyes isn't because of the memories being tainted. blaming it on the cut across her jaw. "watch the road, i'll be okay." fingers gently wrap around his hand, slowly removing it from her face even her touch lingers a little extra longer against his skin before letting go completely.

[etherealrin]

♬⋆.˚ intro: summer

warnings: none // wc: 724

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:00 TRACKLIST: next.

itoshi rin sighs as he clicks the post button, slumping back onto his bed. his obsidian black electric guitar lays neglected in the corner of his room, still hooked up to the amplifier. his headphones are still plugged into his dimly glowing computer, keyboard still connected, and around four unreleased tracks remained rotting in his files.

he had been looking forward to this break all year, finally out of school—where he could stay up late watching horror flicks with no plans for tomorrow. but rin wonders if he’ll be able to enjoy his three months of summer vacation at all, staring at the pitch darkness of midnight outside his open window. the constant buzzing from his phone, screen alight with thousands of confused replies, isn’t helping his worsening mood.

but he convinces himself it’s better this way, better for him to give up this useless little hobby now; he had more pressing matters to focus on. because that’s what sae had meant, what his words echoed before he left for spain, right?

“you should just quit. it won’t get you anywhere,” he’d said as he headed off for law school in spain.

hyprocite: the only word rin can think of to describe it all. wasn't he the one who encouraged me in the first place?

he manages to drift into a dreamless sleep, phone set to do not disturb, tossing and turning while the quiet june night passed on. it was calm and unperturbed, until a loud crash awoke him. the sound, coming from outside of rin’s house, was a screech of metallic cries. it was eerie, unsettling and only served to amplify his restlessness.

now awake, the soft breeze blowing through his room reminds rin that he had left his windows open, and really, he should close them before he catches a cold. so he pulls back the flimsy black blinds, and his heart drops at the scene he’s greeted with.

it’s haunting yet beautiful; you’re crouched over the sidewalk, illuminated by the pale moonlight, you look like a ghost from his past. the way your fingers trace over the broken electric guitar, a tear slipping down your cheek, you remind rin of how he used to be.

rin’s sure that he’s never seen you before, but something stirs inside him; recognition. you two are the same, aren’t you? he hates it, hates how he feels bad for you as you sit there in mourning, though he just swore never to play the guitar again. he wasn’t one to sympathize, but there was just this inescapable pull to you, magnetizing and alluring.

against all better judgement, rin finds himself heading out his door, in the quiet of the early morning, when the sky is still a bleak gray and the birds aren’t yet singing. everything is wrong; rin was sure he swore off music, passion, even his own happiness. he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be approaching you still huddled over the broken instrument. as he draws closer and closer, rin hears a faint echo of that melancholic melody, one he knows too well.

it’s almost deja vu as he stares at it, the fender damaged beyond repair; hasn’t he seen this sight more than once, that night where it all went wrong?

“broken guitar?” rin asks, stating all the obvious. it's silent, completely still except for him and you.

“yeah,” you sniffle, looking up. your eyes glimmer with tears and it makes rin’s chest ache. he knows how it feels, too. “i just moved here, and the movers dropped it.”

“i…” he trails off, unsure if he really wants to do this. but he’s already out of his house, on the street here with you, so he might as well. “i live right there.” he points to his home, a squarish blue two-story. “i can probably get you a new one tomorrow, if you want to.” rin hurriedly adds the last part.

you look like you’re going to cry again, which startles rin. had he said something wrong?

“that’s really nice of you,” you finally say, standing up. “i’ll hold you to that offer?” your words phrased like a question, unsure. rin takes the moment to study you further: there’s a delicate sadness in your eyes, and it gets his heart thumping erratically. how odd.

“just knock tomorrow morning, or afternoon, i’ll be home.”

itoshi rin’s uneventful summer vacation might turn out to be something more after all.

ılılılılılılı TRACKLIST. ALL ALBUMS.

open taglist! comment for add. @levihanmyotp @megumismyhusband @shumeow-h

[hamiltonfc]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter Two)

➤ Summary: Surprisingly, Jude and Noah seem to be getting on well, until Noah does something to get in Kaia's bad book.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 3,171

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

“And this is Jude. My best friend.” Silence hangs in the air for a short while after the introductions. My stomach is tied in a knot while I watch Jude take in my new boyfriend. If it were a stranger perceiving Jude, they’d probably say he’s happy to meet him and that he’s happy for his friend. But I’m not a stranger. His body language, the slight strain in his jaw from the way he’s gritting his teeth and the way his eyes quickly flash to mine tells me everything I need to know.

Jude extends his hand in Noah’s direction. “Hey,” he says while Noah’s hand also leaves the side of his body, grasping Jude’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Noah says, quieter than how Jude said it, nerves an obvious thing he’s feeling. The last time Noah came over, and met my family, I knew he had been really nervous, and rightly so because he knows how much my family means to me. But, when it comes to Jude, I had spoken about him so much, about how we had known each other our whole lives, grown up together. Noah knew that Jude meant just as much to me as my family did. However, there was something else about Jude that didn’t threaten Noah, I don’t think (it had threatened other guys in the past), but there was the small fact of Jude being the man in my life. Jude was Noah’s competition, even though I’d told him he had nothing to worry about in the romantic department, and he believed me, Jude’s status in my life was something for Noah, or any other person who wanted to be with me forever, to reach for.

“Oh, hi, Noah,” my mum walks into the room, carrying two plates of food. “Right, these two are for you,” she nods her head at me and Noah so I promptly take my seat across from Jude, as Noah moves to sit right beside me. “Jude, William will be in in a second with your dinner. He’s currently making sure you both get a couple of extra Yorkshire puddings,” Mum flashes Jude a smile. If there was one thing my dad and Jude had in common it was how much they loved my mum’s Yorkshire puddings. Actually, I’m convinced they are the reason my dad decided to marry my mum in the first place. 

“You know me so well,” Jude says and it’s then that I see Jude’s first genuine smile since Noah walked through the door. But it’s no surprise because Jude has always been like another son to my mum, he always has a smile for her.

****

 “So, Jude,” Dad says when we’re all finally seated and eating. “Are you enjoying it in Madrid?”

“Yeah,” Jude brings his hand up to cover his mouth, pausing his speech while he finishes his food. “It’s great, barely any rain, and the football’s obviously amazing.”

“You know,” it’s my turn to speak now. “These two,” I wave my fork between my parents. “Literally never shut up talking about you. “Like God, forbid we ever see someone we know when they’re out in town because they’ll get a good old rant about how well you’re doing and how proud they are of you. No, but, honestly, I’m starting to think they’re prouder of you than they are of me,” I let out a laugh, everything I said in jest.

“Oh, don’t be silly. But, of course, we’re proud of you, Jude, you know you’re a part of this family,” Mum says. It had always been inevitable that Jude would be part of our family. My mum had been best friends with Jude’s mum, Denise, for years before they even considered having children. So when they did eventually have kids, they became like bonus children for both of them. 

I felt, though, when Mum mentioned that Jude was a part of our family, an awkwardness coming from beside me in Noah’s chair. And although I knew Jude appreciated the comment, and knew that he loved my family just as much as they loved him, I could also tell that he was sensing the same thing I was when I caught his eye.

“So, uhm, Noah,” Jude said, clearing his throat, right before taking a sip of his drink, his attention shifting to the man next to you. “How long are you in England for?”

“Oh, erm, I fly back tomorrow,” Noah nodded, shooting a tight-lipped smile Jude’s way. 

Jude nods. “So, did you like working with our Kai, then?”

“Kai?” Noah furrows his brow, turning towards me and tilting his head to the side in question.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He’s always been the only one to call me that.” I shrug. My whole life everyone had just opted to use my full name, apart from Jude, who had insisted on calling me Kai pretty much since the moment he could talk. “It annoys me when anyone else calls me that.”

“Oh,” Noah squints his eyes, puzzled, but turns back to just nonetheless. “But to answer your question, Jude, it was great working with her.” 

“Look at that,” Jude points a Noah, but shifts his gaze back to me. “You come with rave reviews and everything.”

I laugh, but Noah’s the one to speak. “I feel like everything I saw about her before we worked together was a rave review, you don’t get called one of the best actors of our generation without doing anything great, do you?”

“Well, I could give her a few reviews just based on her personality, and, let me tell you, not many of them are that great,” Jude smirks are you, bringing his arms up to his chest when I reach over the table to smack him. 

“Oi, watch it,” I can’t help but smile at the pair of them as I slump back in my chair. Watching the two of them interact settled my nerves a little. It was almost a given that anyone I invited into my life had to like Jude. Whether it was a boyfriend or a new friend, my loyalty would always be to Jude over anyone, probably until the day that I got married, so it was better to just make sure that they liked him. Why would I want to know someone who disliked my best friend, someone I’d loved my whole life, anyway?

While Jude and Noah got to talking about everything acting and Jude’s football career, I chose to speak to my parents about my next job, which was starting in February, and my summer plans that would follow. Jude overheard the last part of my conversation, “Are you coming to the Euros? You’ll have wrapped by then, yeah?”

This year’s Euros would be Jude’s third international tournament, and seeing as though I had proudly supported him at the last two, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be going to this one, too. 

“Well, that depends,” I placed my knife and fork together on my plate, signifying that I was done. “Are you going to get me free tickets?” I raise my eyebrows at him. 

“I’ve already added your name to the family and friends list for tickets, don’t you worry,” Jude tried to wink at me but instead ended up doing a confused blink, to which I let out a giggle. “I can also get tickets for you four as well,” Jude nods towards the rest of my family. “You won’t be in the friends and family section, but I can see what I can do.”

“Thank you for the offer, Jude, darling, but me and Will won’t be able to get any time off work, and these two will still be in school. But we’ll be cheering you on from our living room, there’s no doubt about that. And depending on how well we’re doing, we might book some time off for the final, just in case,” Mum winks at him before pressing a kiss to his temple after she’s gotten up to collect everyone’s plates. 

“Don’t listen to her, Jude,” Olivia spoke for the first time since we sat at the table. “I want a ticket to every game, and I mean every single game. I’d do anything to miss a month of school.”

“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you’ve got your GCSEs,” Dad looks up from his phone where he’s most likely scrolling through Twitter looking at Sky Sports News or something in that vein.

“That’s exactly why I want to go, Dad. So Jude, can you get me tickets?” She turns her body fully towards him, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“You know, Liv, as much as I’d like you there, you really should listen to your dad. Even I had to do my GCSEs,” Jude tells her. 

Olivia scoffs, stands from her chair, and in doing so nearly knocks the thing over.  “God, why’s it only Kaia that ever gets to do fun things?”

She’s halfway up to her room before I get to properly reply but it doesn’t stop me from calling her a sore loser. “Perks of being your biggest fan, I guess,” I shrug at Jude, a small smirk on my lips. “Oh, hey, speaking of the Euros, it completely slipped my mind that you’re working in Germany at the same time, aren’t you, Noah?” I turn to look at him. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m shooting that show in Berlin,” Noah nods. 

“So you’ll be able to go to a few games, then?” My dad looks up from his phone, dragged out of his trance and into the conversation. 

“Maybe,” Noah says. “Not sure how much free time I’ll have, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a couple.”

“If Kaia has anything to do with it, you’ll be going to every single one that’s played in Berlin,” Noah laughs, nodding as he admits defeat, knowing my father is very much correct. It’s a habit of mine to drag people to football matches, even if they’re not the slightest bit interested. 

While my dad and Noah talk some more about his job in Berlin, I notice Jude shuffling around in his seat out of the corner of my eye. I could just take it as him being uncomfortable after being sat down for almost an hour, but the way he’s looking at my dad and Noah through his lashes, his chin practically against his chest, tells me otherwise. 

“Right, why don’t you kids go hang out upstairs or something while I help clean up this mess?” Dad moves to grab the remaining glasses that are left on the table while Jude, Noah and I get up to go upstairs. 

When in my bedroom, Jude immediately goes to sit at my desk, and I can tell that he’s preparing himself for a potentially awkward situation. His hand rests on the wooden surface, tapping away and I know it’s only a matter of time before he pulls a pen out of the pot so he can fiddle with it. 

I go to flop on my bed, grabbing my childhood teddy that I bring up to rest on my chest. Noah claims his spot beside me, in a much more graceful manner. 

“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it could take over the room. “You wanna watch a film or something?” I look between the two guys in my room, a questioning look on my face.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Jude says. “How about w-”

“Stop right there,” I say, sitting up abruptly. “Before you even ask, no I’m not sitting through Pulp Fiction again. Like yeah, Uma Thurman’s hot as fuck, but she’s also only in it for like ten minutes, so what’s the point?”

“Whoah, I wasn’t even about to say that, dickhead,” Jude annoyingly shakes his head at me while he tosses a rubber in my direction, narrowly missing my head. “I was actually going to suggest that Noah picked what we watched, so, you know, it could save the arguing, and then you started yelling at me anyway.” 

“Oh, okay, good idea,” I turn towards Noah. “Is there anything you’d like to watch, Noah?”

“Hmm, that’s a hard choice,” Noah says, a deep-thinking expression on his face. “I think I’d like to watch Pulp Fiction.”

Jude burst out laughing and I feel my face drop in agony at the thought of watching it again. I’m genuinely about two seconds away from punching my boyfriend right across the face.

“Oh, Kai, you should see your face. Nice one, Noah,” Jude’s holding his stomach at this point. 

“What?” Noah says when Jude calms himself down. “I’ve never seen it.”

That’s the moment both Jude and I stop what we’re doing, turning to face Noah with, what I can only imagine are, the most shocked expressions the two of us could muster. 

I let out a laugh of disbelief before finding the words. “You what?”

“Did I hear you right?” Jude pipes up as well. 

I’ve never seen Pulp Fiction,” Noah repeats, causing me to lay back down, simply staring at the ceiling while I try and get over my shock. 

“An actor who’s never seen Pulp Fiction, well I never.” I raise a finger in the air when I’ve had about ten seconds to process the mindblowing news. “You know what I think we have to do, Jude?” I sit up on my elbows so I can look at him properly. “Pop his Pulp Fiction cherry.”

Jude nods as soon as the suggestion leaves my mouth. “It’s only right.”

“Pulp Fiction it is then,” I’m just about to get up from my bed to grab the DVD, when the door of my bedroom bursts open, with a boisterous seven-year-old on the other side.

Leo immediately rushes over to the side of the bed Noah is at. “Hi, Noah, would you like to come and play Roblox with me?”

The look on Leo’s face is adorable. His big, brown eyes look at my boyfriend with so much adoration, even though he’s only met him once before. But Noah doesn’t seem to like Leo as much as the young boy likes him. 

“Oh, I- uhm,” Noah, fidgets, barely making eye contact with him, while I watch on with furrowed brows. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, that’s fine, I can teach you,” Leo bounces in excitement on the balls of his feet. There’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than when he’s playing Roblox.

“Well, I don’t really want to,” Noah says bluntly, leading to Leo’s face dropping, a little pout forming on his lips. 

“Oh, okay,” Leo says sadly and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting choked up. 

He’s about the leave the room when Jude stands up and walks over to him. Getting on one knee in front of him, he places his hands on the small boy’s shoulders. “Hey, I’ll come and play with you, yeah? we can play that one we were playing last time that you kept beating me at.” Jude picks Leo up, throwing him over his shoulder, causing him to giggle louder than ever. It’s a giggle that can be heard all the way down the hall until they get to Leo’s bedroom. 

My room is silent for a while, allowing me quite a bit of time to think about what I just witnessed. The only thing I can think about, though, is that I didn’t say or do anything while Leo was in the room with me. I should’ve done something to make sure he didn’t get upset, not even a little bit. 

After a little more time, I say, “What the fuck was that?” I turn to Noah, who has barely moved since Jude and Leo left the room. 

“I don’t know, he says, eyes failing to meet mine. 

“That’s not good enough, Noah, you almost made him cry because you didn’t want to play with him. He’d be really upset if it wasn’t for Jude being here,” I let out a sigh. It was bad enough thinking about seeing either of my siblings upset but seeing Leo’s face for that short moment that he thought no one wanted to play with him was heartbreaking. 

“I’m not good with kids, okay?” I have no idea what to do with them,” Noah says, raising his voice a little.

“Then just let him down easily, then, there was no need to be rude. He’s seven, Noah. He only wanted to play with you, you’re never going to get good with kids if you’re never willing to spend even ten minutes with one,” I scowl at him, mad with him for what he did to my little brother. “You know, it’s probably better if we call it a night, I’m quite tired.”

Noah nods. “Okay,” he gets up from the bed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, I suppose,” he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, which I accept, kissing back gently, but he knows that I’m still pissed off at him and that I’m probably going to be like that for a while longer. I shift my body to get off the bed. “It’s fine, I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Night. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” he says, closing the door behind him on his way out. 

I fall back onto the bed, once again finding peace against my duvet, a sigh falling from my lips being the last thing I remember before I slip into a deep sleep. 

****

Jude: You okay Sleeping Beauty?

Kaia: God when did I fall asleep? Kaia: Also why are you still up? It’s 3am.

Jude: About 7:30ish. Jude: And I’m not tired but I also wanted to make sure you were okay.

Kaia: I’m doing fine. Kaia: Just shocked me a little that’s all. Kaia: Was Leo okay when you were playing with him?

Jude: Yeah but he did ask why Noah didn’t want to play with him so I just told him that he knew I wanted to play with him instead. Jude: But what he did was really fucked up.

Kaia: I know. Kaia: I'm glad he’s not really upset about it though. Kaia: And thank you for saying what you did. I think I’m still going to take him out for ice cream or something tomorrow tho just to make sure he’s okay.

Jude: No problem and yeah that’ll be good for him. Jude: So did he just leave?

Kaia: no I said it’d probably be best if we called it a night. Kaia: I made it clear that I was pissed at him so that’s why I think he was so fine with leaving early.

Jude: You did the right thing he can’t talk to a kid like that without knowing that he did was wrong. Jude: Anyway I’m off to bed. See you on Christmas day. x

Kaia: Yep, goodnight. x

Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse

If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).

[gvshing]

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─PRETTY GIRL DEALING─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

(warning for weed usage and dealing!!) pt 1. pt 2.

⊹₊⋆CHAPTER THREE⊹₊⋆

A week has passed since you last bought from Ellie. You still had some from the last time you had bought, but you wanted to see Ellie. It had been kind of awkward since the day after you two had hung out. Not to anyone’s fault most likely. Classes are busy right now, it’s the middle of the semester. Lots of projects and essays are due right now, so you tried not to take it personally that Ellie and your texts seemed a bit dry. But, it was hard not to. It felt like there was a connection, so the sudden awkward tension is off putting to you. Swallowing your anxiety you text her a simple ‘Hey :)’.

When Ellie receives your text she feels her heart skip. She stares at it for 15 seconds before she opens it and replies. ‘Hey! What's up?’ She’s pretty sure you’re just wanting to re-up on weed but part of her hopes you’re wanting to talk or hang out. Even though she should be finishing her physics homework. The other part of her hopes her hypothesis is correct. She likes you, but she can’t. She shouldn’t. Within a minute your reply dings on her phone. ‘Think I can swing by later? Same as last time! Maybe we could hang out too? Dina’s busy today :( it’s okay if you’re busy too obvi!’ She’s not sure how to process the fact that both halves of her get what they want. Dina’s words ringing through her head. ‘Trust me by trusting them’ She sighs and runs her hands over her face roughly. Staring at your text she decides there’s no harm in being nice and at least trying. Ellie’s hands have a hard time gripping her phone from how sweaty they’ve suddenly become. ‘Yeah that sounds good! Is about 6 okay?’ She drops her phone on the bed and blows out the breath she was holding, feeling faint from the lack of air. She can do this. It’s just hanging out with somebody, and at least she sorta knows you now. It’s not like you’re a complete stranger. Now at least.

Come six o’clock and she’s pacing around her room, nerves tingling all through her body. She’s put herself at a distance since the first and last time you guys had hung out. She doesn’t want you to think she’s weird, or get fucked over if you’re only using her for weed. Which would be fair, she sells it so of course most people just want weed from her. If you just want weed, fine. She just can’t fall for somebody who might use her. She hears your light knock on the door and jumps, getting pulled out of her train of thoughts and anxiety. She opens the door and sees you smiling wide at her. Chest fluttering, she lets you in. “Hey, El! How’s your day been?” You beamed at her, sitting down on her desk chair. You’re looking around the room, memorizing all her wall decor and small trinkets that line her shelves. “Uh… it’s been good. Just school today thankfully. I’ve been meaning to call Joel, but I’ve been so busy or tired so I keep forgetting.” Ellie rambles while she pulls out her weed supply and sits on her bed to unlock the box. You cock your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows. “You’ve mentioned him a few times. Is he your dad? Sorry, you’ve probably told me before.” You laugh awkwardly and rub the back of your neck. “Oh! Yeah! My bad, I always forget not everybody knows him. He’s practically my dad. He’s taken care of me for longer than I have memories and I don’t know. He’s great. He can be a bit of a hard ass sometimes, but that’s just the old man in him.” She locks her box back and walks over to the desk you’re sitting at. She begins to weigh out the weed and you start to stand up to offer your seat. She shakes her head and motions for you to sit back down. “I’ll be okay. Thank you though. Pretty girls should always be allowed the seat first.” She mutters, her face getting redder by the second. Before you can retort back at her flirting, or at least you hope it’s flirting, she begins talking again. “I don’t mean to sound like I hate Joel. I love him, we’ve had our disagreements for sure though. I wouldn’t trade him for anything though. He gave me my guitar, I grew a love for playing because of him.” She finishes weighing it out, much faster this time than last. Stuffing it into a small ziplock she hands it over to you. “That’s sweet. About Joel I mean. He sounds great. I understand completely about putting off calling them. Sometimes it makes the pain of being away hurt more than usual. It’s midterms soon also, so you’re busy. I get it. And thank you for the weed Ellie. You’re the best.” You look up at her, grinning wide enough your eyes close. She smiles softly back at you. “How much do I owe you?” You question. Ellie seems to think about it deeply before telling you the same amount as last time. “What? Ellie, seriously. You don’t have to give me another discount. I’m willing to pay whatever you charge. I don’t want to take money out of your pocket.” you bargain, or I guess reverse bargain. She shakes her head. “No seriously! I know you’re good for it. And plus I expect us to smoke together while we hang out.” She crosses her arms and strikes a silly pose. You giggle at her theatrics. “Of course I’m gonna share. Don’t be ridiculous.” You reach in your pocket and grab a twenty dollar bill. You place it halfway under her laptop and stand up. “Okay, sit your ass down, smoke my weed and keep me company instead of pouting.” You flop down on her bed scooting over to the wall and pat the space next to you. She grins and mimics your flop down. Stretching and groaning loudly, you laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay drama. What do you smoke your weed out of?”

For the next few hours you and Ellie smoke and laugh together. “No seriously! She was so fucking drunk. She was leaning on Jesse and we were all dying of laughter! She just kept telling him she loved him and repeatedly proclaiming how drunk she was. As if we didn’t know. Dina made me promise the next day to never let her drink that much ever again or to ever even bring it up to her.” You reminisce about Dina and her antics together, crying with laughter over your mutual dear friend. “God, she’s always been a silly drunk, getting emotional and all lovey dovey.” Ellie had her head in your lap, resting it there over an hour ago. She had been complaining about her back hurting from the shitty sitting position she had subjected herself to. So you told her to lie back in your lap, after a long deliberation she eventually gave in.  You wipe your eyes free from the tears that accumulated from laughing too hard. You drop your hands down and set them in Ellie’s hair. You stroke her hair mindlessly, focusing only on catching your breath. Ellie can only focus on the way your hands feel when you run them through her hair. While you’re catching your breath, hers is getting lost in her chest. Her face growing red and her palms getting sweaty. You look down at her smiling and blowing out a final deep breath. You catch her eyes with your own. You both stare at one another, a tension in the air. “Hi.” you say softly. “Hello.” She mutters back, not able to break eye contact. Realizing the position you’re in, you join her in the blushing. You break eye contact first, opting to look over at her T.V. that plays some random youtube video at a low volume. “It’s late. Um… I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up late again,” You say to her. Realizing your hand is still resting on her head, strands of hair intertwined through your fingers. She sits up and rubs her arm. “Yeah, yeah. I hope I didn’t keep you too long. Thanks for hanging out and… yeah. I enjoy your company. Can I… Maybe if you would like, can I walk you back to your dorm? Just to make sure you get back safe!” Ellie adds quickly. You smile shyly at her and nod enthusiastically at her offer. “Please.”

When you arrive at your door you turn around and gleam at her. “It was really sweet of you to walk me home. I’m really happy to have met you. Thank you.” You place a hand on her shoulder and lean forward to press a kiss against her cheek. Leaning back you move your hand to cup the cheek you had just kissed and smile at her. She blushes furiously and gapes at you, butterflies dancing in her chest. “Goodnight Ellie.” She raises a hand and gives you a small wave muttering a goodnight as you walk into your dorm. She stands staring at your door. In shock of your endearing interaction. Her heart was beating all throughout her body. She begins her walk back to her own dorm, hand placed over her cheek. The feeling of your lips and cupped hand lingering. She feels a buzz in her pocket and pulls out her phone. “Text me when you’re home safe please :) Thank you again for hanging out with me. You’re the best.”

Stumbling through her haze, she arrives at her door before she knows it. She pulls her key and phone out of her pocket. Unlocking her door with one hand, she types back a reply with the other. “I’m home :) I’d hang out with you anytime. goodnight Y/N.” Ellie gets ready for bed, overthinking everything. Maybe opening herself up to have these experiences can be good. She should try at least. She’s starting to like you a lot. More than just a simple crush. It’s growing for her. How does she feel these feelings so fast? She can’t wrap her head around it. She wants this to be good, she wants to try to do this. What if though? She still feels like she shouldn’t be this happy. You have only hung out twice. She needs to pump the breaks. But how? All she wants to do is be around you all the time. She thought maybe taking a step back from texting past that first night would make her feel less intense about you. She couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her just starved of physical attraction or attention. She could just be taking whatever she could get subconsciously. But she knows that’s not the case. She likes you. She sees the beauty and gentleness inside you. She’s infatuated. Your eyes she gets lost in, your soft hands she would die to hold just one time, your soft lips she couldn’t imagine actually kissing instead of just feeling pressed against the soft of her cheek. She wants you, all of you. She needs to know who you are, every angle, the good and bad. She’s sure she’s already in deep. She hopes she’s not reading too far into your actions. What if that’s just how you are with your friends? Some people are touchy with their friends. She hugs Dina all the time and once or twice has received or given her kisses on the cheek. Anxiety ignites in her chest at the thought of her taking your actions the wrong way. She crosses her fingers that she’s not. She lays down on her bed and opens her window, forever thankful she got a dorm room that actually has a window. Some people weren’t so lucky. She was though. She loved to look up at the sky and imagine being up there, where the stars and moon are. She daydreams about making her own civilization on the moon's surface. Somewhere better, somewhere perfect. Away from all the uncertainty of earth. She stares up and hopes for a falling comet, hoping for a wish to fall into her lap. A wish that she was correct, and that for once her feelings were reciprocated. She falls asleep staring up at that sky. She dreams of you. She dreams of that perfect life together. One with a cozy house and a big backyard. Definitely a dog that leaps over with glee when she gets home from a long day’s work. A perfect life that involves you greeting her at the door with a kiss. She thinks that if that was her life she’d never have another complaint for as long as she lived. She wakes up feeling empty, knowing that’s not her current reality. But, when she’s dreaming, laying so sweetly and breathing so calmly, it’s real. And it’s perfect.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

that took longer for me to write than it should've... it's not like I write a lot when I write, so why must it take my brain so long to get this all out... anyway! Lowkey... surprised anybody has been reading my stuff so I appreciate everyone who's taken the time out of their day to read my silly little story! Thank you thank you thank you!

[broidobe]

𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢

requested!!! this is like an add on to his nsfw alphabet. as i said in there, your first time together...not good. so this is the first time experience!

☾you finally hook up with nikki sixx, expecting pure rockstar-level bliss… only to find out that he’s fucking terrible in bed the first time☽

☾warnings: bad sex, cringe dirty talk, nikki being a cocky idiot, humor, smut☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚motley crue masterlist

you wanted this.

you really did.

it was nikki fucking sixx—dangerous, beautiful, wild, the kind of man who could set the whole damn world on fire with just a smirk. and tonight, after weeks of teasing and late-night flirting, it was finally happening.

his place. his bed. just the two of you, tangled up in the sheets, skin burning, lips crashing together like neither of you could get enough.

and then…

well.

it all went spectacularly downhill.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it started off promising—nikki on top of you, hands everywhere, lips trailing down your neck, mumbling something incoherent about how fucking hot you were.

but then… he just kinda… stopped?

like his brain short-circuited.

"uh… hold on." he pulled back, brows furrowed. "where's the—fuck, wait—hang on."

you blinked up at him, watching as he rummaged through the sheets like he had no idea what he was doing.

nikki sixx, sex god of the sunset strip, was fumbling.

and oh god, it only got worse.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you tried. you really, really tried to be patient.

but the moment he actually got inside you, it became painfully clear that nikki had no idea what he was doing.

his rhythm? nonexistent.

his thrusts? all over the damn place.

his dirty talk? fucking terrible.

"you like that, baby? you like how i—uhhh—yeah, yeah, fuck—wait, shit—"

oh god.

you stared at the ceiling, biting your lip, trying so hard to feel something—literally anything—but all you could focus on was the fact that nikki was jackhammering you like a goddamn rabbit on speed.

fast. messy. absolutely no rhythm.

"oh, fuck, oh—"

and then, 30 seconds later…

it was over.

nikki flopped onto his back, sweaty, breathless, and looking way too pleased with himself.

"holy shit." he exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair. "that was fucking amazing."

…was it???

was it really???

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you just lay there, staring at the ceiling like you had just survived a car crash.

it wasn’t bad bad—it just… wasn’t good.

at all.

and the worst part? nikki had no idea.

you turned your head to look at him.

he smirked. smirked.

"you didn’t cum, did you?"

you opened your mouth—then shut it.

you could lie. you could tell him what his rockstar ego probably needed to hear.

but instead…

"no. no, i didn’t."

nikki blinked.

"oh."

silence.

then—

"…shit."

yeah. shit was right.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

to his credit, nikki did not take this well.

"wait, wait, wait—hold on—so you’re telling me that i just—fuck, i swear this never happens, i—"

you couldn’t help it—you laughed.

and not a small, polite laugh—a full-blown, gasping-for-air, tears-in-your-eyes laugh.

"oh my god, sixx, that was so bad."

he groaned, throwing an arm over his face. "fuck me, i swear i usually last longer than that—"

"no, you don’t."

"okay, fine, but i can fix this—"

"can you??"

and just like that, his competitive streak kicked in.

"you bet your ass i can."

and that was how you ended up with nikki sixx determined as hell to make you cum—even if it took all night.

(and, to his credit… the second round? much, much better. 😉)