#and i swear to god if i don’t get to you in 2 years i’ll lose it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deansapplepie · 4 months

Text

The Spitting Image | Part 1

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Word Count: 4,419

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

Series Masterlist Part 2

Main Masterlist

It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.

That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.

United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.

There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.

That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.

“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”

You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.

“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.

“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…

“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.

“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.

“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”

“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”

“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”

“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.

“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”

You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.

The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”

“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.

“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.

“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.

The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.

“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.

“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.

Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.

You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.

At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.

“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”

“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”

“Thought you never cussed.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.

Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.

“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.

“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?

“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.

In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.

“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.

“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.

“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”

Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.

“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.

“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.

“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.

“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”

He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”

By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.

A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.

The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.

Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”

“A car.” He answered the obvious.

“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.

“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”

“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.

“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”

“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.

“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.

“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.

As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.

“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.

“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.

You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.

“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.

He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.

It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.

You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.

You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”

“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.

“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.

He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.

“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”

Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.

You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.

Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.

“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.

“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.

“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.

DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.

“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.

“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.

“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.

“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.

“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.

“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”

“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.

“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”

He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.

“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”

“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.

“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.

“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.

“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl x you #deansapplepie

598 notes · View notes

msafterhours · 27 days

Text

Saccharine | Act Two

Male Reader x (G)I-DLE Yuqi

[Act 1] Act 2 (~14.7k words) [Act 3]

Note: this is not intended as a standalone story. If you haven’t already read Act One, I’d highly recommend doing so before reading further so that you don’t miss out on important context.

As the dawn of the final day of 2021 breaks over the horizon, you finish acquiring the answer to your earlier inquiry. Apparently, nothing awaits, as for the first time in a long while, swaths of darkness have been painted over your hours of slumber. It’s been a stark contrast, even compared to the mundane manifestations that have previously filled insignificant periods. Especially for a mind as active as yours, it’s become an unwelcome disruption to your expected existence, plunging you into a deep fatigue that you’ve been unable to shake. And to top it all off, another disruption awaits you upon awakening—this time landing squarely in your inbox.

ASong4You: I’m going to be with Soyeon the whole broadcast, so if we’re going to meet up again, it’ll have to be at or after the afterparty ASong4You: Should I look for you somewhere?

For as much as she dislikes being called cute, it’s honestly adorable how straight she’s playing this. As if it’s completely normal to have someone make you see stars upon the first time meeting them in person. But the truth of how rattled she is reveals itself in the vulnerability she’s exposed. So, you might as well pretend to play along. Somewhat.

TurnThePage: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s easy to find me at the afterparty TurnThePage: We’ll see how it goes from there

The read notification acts as enough of a response for you, and you close the app. Until a realization hits and you reopen it.

TurnThePage: Also bring me my fucking scarf

You see another read receipt and the beginnings of a message, but then, a pause. You immediately know; you can hear the laughter she’s undoubtedly doubled over with—the memory echoing in your mind clearer than the chirps of the birds outside your window.

ASong4You: Fuck no, this thing’s comfy as hell TurnThePage: THAT’S THE POINT ASong4You: Alright fine, but only if you ask nicely

You nearly do as she asks, but pride jumps in front of the word “please” in your mental dictionary and refuses to allow you access. So—just like you’ve always done—you pivot.

TurnThePage: What if I come gift wrapped with a little bow on top

This time, the memory echoes resonate through your mind long before your phone vibrates with a response. The clarity is borderline concerning, but you cast it aside as you return to her response.

ASong4You: Then you just might get me to do as you ask TurnThePage: I still don’t get why I have to do something to get my stuff back ASong4You: To be fair you never had to give me it in the first place TurnThePage: To be fair, they’re still there, aren’t they?

Read? Yes.

Replied to? Of course not. All you’re left with is a protracted silence that paints a picture worth a thousand words.

TurnThePage: You know what, maybe just keep it for now TurnThePage: You never know when you might need it, especially at this time of year … ASong4You: I swear to god I’m going to give you bruises that’ll make mine look like fingerprints in comparison TurnThePage: Wouldn’t want it any other way.

What a way to start the morning. Your routine passes by in a flash, leaving you facing a familiar screen and the unfamiliar dilemma of what to do with a few hours of free time. Your mind casts itself back to her earlier statement and her plans for the day, inspiring an idea that influences your plans for its remainder. While you may have professional obligations at this event, there’s no reason you can’t benefit from some personal profits along the way. So, you send a few quick emails that net quicker responses, and from there, you’re off to the races. You stockpile a selection of questions, feebly attempting to justify this personal project’s importance, and, a few hours later, you leave. Well ahead of schedule; just in case.

You arrive alone, head held high as you greet the familiar security staff who wave you right on by. This time, you're more selective in your choice of targets—more specific in the questions you ask them. You keep the conversations short, just barely long enough to glean the necessary information without claiming a spot amongst their memories of the night. No more than an hour passes before you know exactly where every performer will be and when they'll be there, affording you clarity on where you want to be and where you need to avoid.

Your efficiency is quickly rewarded as once again, even though you have hours until the broadcast goes live, the performers begin arriving in droves. With your opportunity fast approaching, you tap into the vast repository of knowledge you’ve gleaned over the past couple of years and make a few stops along the way towards your destination. Once your hands are full of items that you know idols tend to request during waiting periods—water, fans, phone chargers, etc.—you step into the waiting room reserved for an absolute all-star lineup of idols tonight.

One by one by two by one they arrive until ultimately you’re flanked by five. Some of the hottest faces in the industry—figuratively and literally—sit around the table with you, shining brighter than spotlights as you all share war stories and discuss the year in retrospect. Hwang Yeji, leader of ITZY, is happy to share about her members’ Christmas craziness and her own ambitious New Year’s resolutions. Kim Minju, Music Core host and alleged actress, shares about her particular difficulty facing the struggles that all the IZ*ONE members must be feeling post disbandment. An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung, maknaes of the aforementioned group and mega stars of their new one IVE, provide their own insights on the struggles and successes of the past year of their lives. But it’s the sixth member of the conversation you have the most questions for. Because Cho Miyeon is the one who sits alongside you as you ask her question after question about the time spent since she last stood under the spotlight seven months ago.

Under this pretense of an interview—some project about this year being the liberation from lockdowns and what it means to those with fans around the world—you foster familiarity and fondness in the hearts of these fellow aspirants, these industry peers that a fool might allow themselves to call “friends”. Your initial questions are precise, measured, and specifically aimed towards achieving one goal in particular: endearing yourself to the ally of your enemy before your date with the devil. Even as the performers come and go, changing outfits and patiently sitting until their perfect faces are painted enough to be “presentable”, you keep the conversation alive. At first, you keep the flame lit with convenient kindling, sharing stories you’ll happily let leave this room and asking questions you prepared well in advance. However, the group’s congregation precedes two hours of waiting for the broadcast to begin—and that’s not even mentioning the two or so more that’ll pass before they’re scheduled to go on stage. In an effort to hold back the darkness, your stories become less selective and secrets begin to slip past your lips amidst the sea of words pouring out from all involved. You respond to a question about how you choose the topics to write about, then add on an explanation of how you choose what not to write. From there, the conversation shifts, and Yeji ends up sharing a dream that’s been haunting her—one about love and loss and the end of life. You share your sympathies and nearly get far more specific about your own experiences before you catch yourself and course correct, leading the conversation elsewhere. The IVE duo puts forth quite the interesting tale of adapting to dorm life with their new quartet of members and the difficulties of rewriting their tendencies from living with the IZ*ONE members. Once again, you share a similar story and then a bit more, telling of your own shock when your editor had recently been fired and the difficulties of finding a suitable replacement. Not every thread of conversation ends up involving you, but many do, leaving you with an ever-shrinking suite of “safe” stories to share. It truly is a lovely interview. It's also the least important reason you're there.

You’re fascinated by how the conversation ebbs and flows, especially as Yeji leaves for her group’s performance and the IVE duo departs twice to do the same. It leaves you with further opportunity to inject a deeper sense of intimacy into the conversation, inviting the others to join you in confiding your concerns. Minju seems all too happy to oblige in one such moment, divulging to you and Miyeon the depths of her fears of irrelevancy in an industry so cutthroat—especially with a future so unclear. Before you can even begin to offer a response, Miyeon—someone who’s had no need to initiate a conversation due to the frequency of questions directed towards her—speaks up, sharing her own struggles in the aftermath of Soojin’s departure. You offer her the respect of absolute silence as she reassures Minju, revealing the significance of the impact losing only a single member had on her and empathizing with Minju’s struggles in facing a similar feeling but with such greater magnitude. It strikes you suddenly how precarious the platform of popularity must be for these rising stars to feel such fear in the face of the unknowns awaiting them on the other side of midnight. Once the magnitude of the moment has lessened, you offer what empty empathy you can before deciding on a more tangible course of action: deleting the recording, erasing the entirety of three hours of a potential transcript in an attempt to protect their privacy. Both immediately offer their genuine gratitude as they look to you with shock clearly visible in their eyes, refusing to allow you to diminish the significance even as you put forth a paltry attempt to brush it off with a claim that you can use some old recordings or something. Eventually, you all drop it and move on, even if they don’t share your reason for doing so. They never realize why you’re so willing to lie, why you couldn’t care less about the recording. Only you truly know that you’ll never be able to forget this conversation.

In hindsight, you'll find it funny how everything unfolded. Coming in, you intended to be memorable. You wanted to be likable. You needed Miyeon to smile upon hearing your name. In all aspects of your planning, you succeeded. You just never accounted for the effect she'd have on you.

The missing trio returns shortly after, and the conversation thankfully returns fully to simpler topics, allowing you a brief respite. You can’t help but let your posture slip as well, resting your head on the back of the couch as your body slumps to the side. It isn’t until you feel the couch shift slightly that you realize you’ve halved the distance between you and Miyeon, who seems to adjust her own position on the couch. But she doesn’t pull away. She moves closer … just slightly. Not enough to close the gap, but enough to tease the possibility. Even for you, someone so perfect at performing the part you need to play, it’s enticing—even more so when considering the events of the past week. With your current position atop the peak of anticipation, a strong breeze could be more than enough to unseat you, and instead there’s a raging storm of possibility seated less than a meter away from you, demanding you detour away from your current path. Somehow, you manage to resist your urges, reminding yourself you’ve come too far to divert from the opportunity at the end of the tunnel. As tempting of an unknown as Miyeon might be, you know you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss out on the opportunity to know her.

What is it about her that leaves you desperately investing time and effort into figuring it out?

How does she seem to have the most specific comments at the most opportune times?

Why the fuck is Song Yuqi the reason you can’t sleep at night?

Regardless, it ultimately matters little, as it’s minutes later when you rejoin the conversation and less than an hour before the quintet is called to get ready to perform. You stand as well, offering them thanks for their time and well-wishes for their performance before mirroring their hopes to see each other at the afterparty. Miyeon is the last to leave, reaching back to close the door and holding your eyes for two moments longer than you’d expect before shutting it and leaving you alone.

-x-

Roughly ten minutes later, their performance comes on the broadcast and you enjoy the f(x) homage before quickly tuning out upon its conclusion. With another two hours to go before the broadcast’s end and the subsequent mass exodus to the hotel hosting the afterparty, you concede to your fatigue and decide to rest your eyes. One set alarm later, the world around you fades and you drift off into the darkness. Upon your arrival in dreamland, you’re surprised at the darkness’ refusal to disperse, leaving you blind within an expanse of eruptions. On one side of you, you can hear the crashing of lightning as a thunderstorm rains down its wrath, while on the other, you can hear the crackle of flame as it spreads and ignites vast swathes of this obscured landscape. No matter where you try to look or turn, the dueling elements match your movements, perfectly mirroring one another as they come ever closer. Just as you’re about to melt under their might, you are quite literally saved by the bell as your alarm clock rouses you back into reality.

Only five minutes of the broadcast before the real party starts. Literally. You stand, stretch, then step out of the room riddled with remnants of secrets shared over the past six or so hours. Within the halls of the venue, you can hear the voices of the groups as they sing their final performance of 2021, leaving you alone among the staff and solo performers. Solo performers like Miyeon, whose gaze immediately captivates you as she confidently closes the distance.

“Hey you. How’s it going?”

“Doing good, kinda just still getting my bearings after waking up,” you answer, intentionally letting a yawn escape to sell the point. “What about you?”

“Well, I was looking for Soyeon, but I think my other members might have left a long time ago. Maybe I’ll see them at the afterparty but … wait, did you say waking up? What have you been doing for the past two hours?” Miyeon asks, jealousy spreading across her face as she arches a judgemental eyebrow.

You put forth your best sheepish expression as you explain, “Ah, gotcha. But, uh, yeah … I watched your performance—you were amazing by the way—and then decided to take a nap. It’s been a long day, so catching up for a couple of hours was very helpful.”

Miyeon’s eyes roll and arms cross as she scoffs, “Lucky you, I’m still exhausted!”

“I mean, I’ve heard caffeine can’t fix everything,” you say, teeing up your suggestion as you capture her eyes once more. “But it’s definitely worth a shot.”

“Or two,” she immediately adds, smiling in a way you can’t help but mirror. “You think anywhere’s going to be open tonight?”

“Speaking as a self-aware coffee addict myself,” you dramatically declare. “I’m absolutely sure someone was smart enough to stay open and cater to those in desperate need.”

You feel the corners of your lips climb up your cheeks as her eyes light up, brighter than a flash of lightning as she responds, “God, I hope you’re right! Then let’s go; you want a ride?”

“Of course, after you! We’ve been here for far too long.”

Your conversation from before resumes seamlessly, allowing you to speculate with her about the inevitable insanity that’s sure to define the upcoming countdown. From within the tinted windows of the company car you can see the last nightfall of 2021, a year you’ll define by shadows and the lights that cast them. It’s borderline hilarious how backwards this entire year has seemed, with your capitalization on lockdowns leading to terminally online fans thrusting you into the spotlight while (G)I-DLE’s scandal forced them to take a step back into the darkness. Some might take this opportunity to reflect, maybe even celebrate their growth and accomplishments; you know, ask the world to give them their flowers or something. Not you. You’d rather guarantee tomorrow’s bloom by spending today sowing seeds. So, you make absolutely sure to get Miyeon’s drink order right before you run inside and order the trio of drinks. One for you, one for Miyeon, and one for her manager. Just in case, because you’ll never know when you’ll need to cash in on the priceless value of a good word.

Later—a week, month, year from now—you won’t remember the words shared in the back seat of the car chauffeuring you to the hotel. Some matter, more than usual, but none of them resonate soundly enough to derail the train of thought chugging along through your mind: why does Miyeon, this wonderful girl who smells faintly of roses and whose cheeks get rosy pink near the end of her drink, tolerate her transgressions? You want nothing more than to ask, but you keep your cards close to your chest, knowing that now isn’t the time to reveal your hand. You’ve come too far to risk going all in now.

You need not test your patience for long, for shortly after your brief diversion, you hit a cluster of traffic outside the hotel—an impeccable indicator of your intended timing. Even from a distance, you can see the ever-shifting stream of stars shuffling into the hotel’s lobby, where you’re sure that a whole galaxy of partygoers awaits within. Almost immediately, you shift the conversation towards the delicacies on display, getting Miyeon’s perspective on her peers and their approach to parties. On one hand, it’s fascinating getting insights directly from someone within the ecosystem rather than interpreting the ripples that reach the edges of the pond. On the other, it creates the exact kind of conversation you’d hoped to inspire—a cautious yet fervent discussion of many of the quiet things everyone’s dying to say aloud. And with a significant number of idols across a multitude of generations congregating in the area, you have plenty of kindling to keep the passionate conversation ablaze, all the way through the line of cars and even up to the entrance itself.

You arrive together, head down slightly as you whisper back and forth with Miyeon, continuing your soft scrutiny of the other arrivals. Once inside, even though there’s a sea of individuals milling about, your eyes immediately find your intended target. Near one of the back left doors out of the main hall stands the only person who matters—a short little blonde wearing a cute black dress and an expression so shocked you’re surprised the whole building hasn’t short circuited. You find satisfaction in the surprise in her eyes as she desperately attempts to process your arrival. In that stunned countenance, in the vulnerability visible, you find your victory. You find the moment you’ve dedicated the entire final day of the year to. Now to find a drink.

After bidding Miyeon a fond farewell and wishing her luck in finding her other group members, you take your leave and begin wading through the crowd, intent on reaching a high-visibility area. You can't even make it over to the punch table before her hand is clasped around your throat.

No words are spoken. None are necessary. You knew the implication of your actions. You knew full well the exact contents of the message you'd send by arriving with another member of her group. And as you look down at her, you're met by the fire in her eyes burning bright blue, hotter than you've ever seen. Her seething expression presents a question. Your shameless smile presents your own. Somewhere along this charged connection between you two, a spark ignites the fuse. There's no backing out now.

It's only a matter of time before you two burn this whole damned building to the ground.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” you say, as if this whole situation were the most casual thing in the world.

“Just for once, won’t you fucking listen?” she asks, pulling her hand away and balling it into a fist as her voice drops dangerously low. “I know you think you have your reasons for hating me and I’ll even concede that some of them might be valid, but you have no reason to hurt her or any of my friends. So fuck off.”

You don't offer a response—at least not directly. You brush past her, gesturing for her to follow as you make your way towards your original destination: the bar and, most importantly, away from the center of the crowd.

Your tone is hushed as you speak, drawing her closer to you. It’s not a visual you’re especially fond of, but a necessary sacrifice in the name of privacy. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you by saying that my reasons for talking with Miyeon are entirely altruistic,” you concede, pausing for a moment as you smile at the bartender and give him your order. “But I am speaking the truth when I say I have no intentions of letting her get caught in the crossfire. Unlike some, I’m considerate enough to keep innocents from getting involved.”

You turn back and witness her reaction, drinking in the delicious disbelief as she declares, “How dare you! I give everything to make sure they’re not affected by my actions!”

Someone else might have believed her, but you know better. “What about the audio tech you punched while filming with your members?”

You find another flash of vulnerability in her eyes, but in a blink, it disappears, hidden behind her defenses. “That was the third shoot in a row he’d made a mistake and clearly he wasn’t listening to the previous warnings!”

“And the outfit you ripped in half mere hours before performing?” you ask, taking your drink from the bartender and sliding him a fair bit more than its cost. You give him a certain type of smile and he nods in recognition, swearing silence and allowing you to dedicate the entirety of your attention to the interrogation at hand as you resume walking towards the fringes of the lobby.

“The stylist showed up hungover with multiple botched outfits for our first ever awards show!” she fires back as she follows close behind.

Another sip. Another step. Anything to create some semblance of distance away from the crowd. “And the CUBE employee guidelines? The list of rules that every new hire needs to know in order to protect themselves from you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffs, but the sudden hurt in her eyes reveals the truth behind her lies.

“Alright, I’m sure you have plenty of excuses ready, but I think you’re intentionally avoiding the obvious question,” you say, stretching out the silence with another slow swig from the glass as you continue to walk. “Don’t you think that the best way to protect your friends from collateral damage is by not causing it in the first place?”

Her eyes avert once more, refusing to acknowledge you or the truth. “It’s not that simple. Just—god fucking damnit—please don’t rope her into this. I don’t know who’s told you those stories or what they’ve told you, but …”

She trails off suddenly, cut short by the singsong sounds of a familiar friend’s words on the wind. For once, you have no trouble finding her eyes as both of you tense upon hearing Miyeon’s voice in the crowd, moving in your direction.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I know that she’s looking for you, so—”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Her voice cuts in, ending your sentence as her eyes sweep across the room, scouring the sea of stars as she searches for the voice in question. “You’re coming with me—I’ve been here before and I know somewhere private we can finish this conversation.”

You raise your hands in mock surrender, smiling wide as you respond, “Very well, princess. Lead the way.”

“Do not fucking call me that,” she growls, grabbing your arm and all but dragging you towards a pair of nondescript doors amongst many others decorating the wall. Her surprising strength aside, you’re happy to oblige, following in her footsteps as the proximity lets you catch a whiff of something unfamiliar on the lips you’d so closely acquainted yourself with. With a sudden realization, you receive an unspoken answer to the question of what she’d been doing prior to your arrival; you discover what’s fueling the fire behind her eyes. You realize that she’s running on liquid courage as she quietly opens the door and pushes you inside. All the bright lights fade as she slips past and the door closes behind you, plunging you both into darkness.

Your mind’s still working in overdrive as you stand in the darkness, but as you place your drink down and break the silence, you can’t help but test just how long her fuse truly is. “Really, a supply closet? Could you get more cliché?”.

Even before she turns on the light—even before she turns and you see the fire in her eyes—you know your words have acted as a final spark just based on her posture alone. Because she does turn on the light and she does turn to face you. But she doesn’t look at you the same way. You’re no longer the threat you might have been ten minutes ago. No, when she looks at you now, she wears the cruel confidence of a huntress ready to strike. Guess who that leaves to play the part of the prey.

“Here’s the fucking problem.” A single step forward, shortening the gap between you two. “You have so much shit to answer for …” Another, and she’s halfway to you. “But I’m so fucking sick of hearing you talk.” Once more, and you have to hold your breath to keep from fanning the flames of the inferno looking up at you. “So I’m gonna make you forget every sob story you’ve heard about me.” She continues, pushing her body against yours until you’re backed up against the wall. “Because I’m not the Disney villain they make me out to be …” Her hand wraps around the back of your head, pulling you close as she whispers in your ear, “I’m so much fucking worse.”

Her fangs flash for a moment before plunging into the side of your neck, nearly piercing your flesh as she hungrily sucks at your skin. Immediately, your hands latch onto her sides, desperate for any semblance of a tether to reality as your adrenaline skyrockets and your head spins. You try to snake a hand up her shirt—try to find some possibility of going on the offensive—but she immediately pounces, smacking it away as her own hands start exploring.

“Oh, not so tough now that I’ve got you right where I want you, hm?” she taunts, denying your ability to catch your breath or muster a response as she crashes her lips against yours. It’s so unlike you to be caught without an answer—so unlike you to be the one without a plan. Last time, things were under your control, but this time, any inhibitions you might have expected her to carry seem to have been left at the door. This time, she’s the one with hands up your shirt, scratching and clawing and exploring every centimeter of the chest that contains your pounding heart. Your hands shift down, finding a perfect fit as you cup the curve of her ass and lean into the kiss. The sweetness of cherry clashes with the familiar burn of hard liquor, adding to the endless list of sensations vying for your attention.

Your eyes finally snap open as her lips unlatch from yours and her hands pull away, allowing you the briefest of moments to inhale some much-needed oxygen. Even in her silence, you feel her emotions emanating throughout the room. Temptation. Jubilation. Vexation. Exhilaration. Oh, and lust. So much fucking lust. All it takes is the tiniest raise of her eyebrows and a hint of a smirk to fuel the flames as she sinks to her knees. There’s a dark edge to her words as her eyeline meets your beltline and she chuckles, “Wow … looks like someone’s excited to see me.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh of your own as you wonder how you’ve let things get this far. It’s you. It’s her. It’s the fact that you’re about to do this in a fucking storage closet of all places. The fact that you managed to survive meeting her and still came back for more. None of the choices that’ve led you to this moment have been correct, but you’re already flying Bad Decision Airlines, so why not fly first class? “Aren’t there more important things that mouth should be doing?”

Her eyes roll with the poise of a practiced gymnast as she deftly unbuckles your belt and unbuttons the top of your slacks. The ungodly glint in her eyes gleams once more as she leans forward and captures the zipper between her teeth, dragging it down as she looks up at you with wicked intent. Go ahead, you hear through unspoken words. Keep pretending like you’re in control—like you’re not putty in my hands.

Your pants hit the floor, and you’re concerningly convinced that your pride’s soon to follow. Her hands glide up your legs, ghosting over your calves and teasing your thighs before snaking their way inside the underwear your cock has been straining against since you first laid eyes on her. Immediately upon contact, you can’t help but shiver. Not because of the cold—that’d be impossible with this much heat in the room. It’s the culmination of the anticipation that’s been building within you all week, no, for months now. If not longer. … Definitely longer.

And it’s all been leading up to this: your cock pulsing with anticipation as she drags your underwear down and takes it in her hands, letting her warm breath wash over it as her tongue runs over her lips and she reaches out to—

You both freeze, locking eyes. She sees the conflict in your eyes. You see the concern in hers. You both stop—separating as she rises from the ground and you get dressed in a hurry—because you both heard the same songbird from before, this time singing your name as she searches through the crowd.

“What. The. Fuck.” Her not-quite-question hangs in the air, acting as accusation, bewilderment, chagrin, distrust—nearly a whole alphabet of bad vibes—all at once.

You raise your hands in the air, attempting to act innocent for once. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Obviously, that’s a lie and it slips seamlessly off your tongue. “I had no ill intentions when getting to know Miyeon better and growing our professional friendship.” That’s a lie too. “I was genuinely enjoying talking with her.” That one … isn’t?

Ultimately, her skepticism never leaves, but she forces herself to do so. After taking a quick peek out of the door, she slips out, rejoining the ever-shifting mess of a crowd that continues to speak so many words while saying so little.

-x-

Shortly after—specifically after finishing your drink—you do the same, sneaking out and finally joining the New Year’s Eve party in earnest. You rub shoulders with a couple managers, compliment the dress of a soloist, and even round out the numbers for one group’s drinking game.

Once you finally step back and return to the periphery to get a refill, you get a wonderful view of the lobby and the celebration of the industry you’ve spent the past four years trying to conquer. Surface level analysis would likely call it beautiful; those with a bit more insight might point out the darker components that keep the machine running smoothly. But as entrenched as you are, you know the truth can be found somewhere between the two extremes. Nights like tonight, where the honest truths spoken earlier drown out the honeyed lies you hear all around you, remind you that the pressure exerted by the spotlight on these young stars surrounding you can produce truly resplendent diamonds. And looking out across the floor, it brings a smile to your face to see so many shining so brightly.

It’s just such a fucking shame that leverage is only found in the darkest rooms of the penthouse suite. As much as you’d like to linger on the line of thought, a familiar flash of brilliant blonde in the corner of your eye cuts it short. A quick glance confirms your suspicions: it’s a bad idea led by the best of intentions.

“Hey, you,” a bubbly voice calls to you.

“Oh, hey Miyeon,” you say, allowing the warm smile to naturally develop even as you struggle to silence your internal screaming. “How're you?”

“I'm good, glad I finally found you!” she exclaims, shining brightly as ever. “What’ve you been up to, enjoying the party so far?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly just making the rounds, getting to know people better. Listening to their jokes, laughing at most of them while finding few of them funny,” you say, sharing a shocking number of words for them all to be true. “What about you?”

“I found my pseudo-siblings! It’s always nice to catch up with Sana and Jiwon, especially since it’s been a little while since a big in-person event like this has happened,” Miyeon explains, smile unwavering even as you see her mind cast back to the past two years. “But all that aside, I wanted to introduce you to my groupmate and very close friend, Yuqi.”

Your eyes lock. Your breath catches as your throat dries up. Somewhere in the background, the music shifts to a slower song and you can even swear that the lighting changes slightly, casting a golden glow on her face. Maybe it’s all just your imagination.

What’s undeniably real is the smirk she wears so well, silently presenting you with a question even as the arch of your eyebrow presents your own. For once, she drapes herself in shockingly steady confidence, causing you to almost feel proud of how well she’s hiding the shared history between you two. This time she’s the one who shatters the brief silence, bowing slightly as she says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

You mirror her bow, painting on your own smile as you respond, “The pleasure’s all mine; I’ve heard so much about you too. How’ve you been enjoying the party so far?”

You watch as her smirk widens, showing hints of the predatory smile she wore not too long ago. There’s no stopping your own expression as it morphs to mirror hers. Both of you know full well how much danger you’re putting yourselves in—how little subtlety there is to the game you’re playing. Each of you toes the line of letting slip your little secret, but neither of you seems to care. Instead, she simply says, “Oh, it’s been fine so far. Uneventful compared to what’s coming.”

“Indeed,” you volley back. “This is my first time at one of these New Year’s parties. Do you know if there’s usually a big event around midnight?”

“Isn’t there always?” Yuqi asks, chuckling incredulously as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Some people definitely stick around for the countdown,” Miyeon explains, her smile warm and welcoming.

“And the others?” you ask, clearly offering the bait for Yuqi to pounce on if she so desires. But she’s not the one to do so.

“There’s a reason the invitations suggested booking a room in advance,” Miyeon adds, allowing the implication to hang in the air as hints of humor find a home in her smile.

“Then I should be glad I’m so good at following directions,” you jest, refusing to grant Yuqi the satisfaction of allowing her to stare into your soul as you hold Miyeon’s gaze.

“Indeed,” you hear Yuqi growl from behind surely gritted teeth. “It’s so nice to come to one of these parties and not have to worry about unexpected circumstances.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you begin, finally flashing a genuine smile in her direction. “But what better time to have fun than tonight?”

“Fun?” she echoes, ghosts of a smile teasing the corners of her lips as her competitive spirit rises once more. It’s impossible to miss the unspoken challenge in her words; she’s daring you to define your definition of fun, like she’s dying to know if it matches hers.

"Isn't that what these parties are about?" you reply evenly, ever the professional. "A chance to let loose without the scrutiny of the public eye."

Her laugh is hollow and haughty as she shakes her head, seemingly in disbelief at your response. “You’ve clearly never been to one of these parties before.”

“Even the tiniest of leaks is too much of a risk for everyone here,” Miyeon explains amiably. “Too much to lose, nowhere near enough to gain.”

“At least not on this floor,” you add, allowing the unspoken words to speak volumes as you raise your glass for a toast.

This time, the humor reaches Yuqi’s eyes as her icy demeanor begins to thaw. “Now you’re getting it.”

With a clink of your glasses, the conversation shifts, weaving its way from topic to topic as the three of you discuss the cities you most want to visit, music of all languages, first impressions, and so, so much more. Expectations be damned, it isn’t anywhere near the clusterfuck you’d feared it’d be—if anything, it’s nothing short of really fucking fun. The chemistry you three share is vivid without straying into volatility, and as much as you hate to admit it, the conversation is at its most vivacious during the interactions between yourself and Yuqi. You, for once, hold nothing back: sharing stories freely and firing off joke after joke without a second thought. Miyeon acts flawlessly as the bridge between you two—quietly contributing to most of the conversation yet eager to jump in on a topic she’s excited about—acting as the light that allows your duet to shine. That, of course, leaves Yuqi as your partner in this performance, but not the Yuqi you’ve come to know. She seems different in this environment—less ferocity, more sincerity. As much as each of you still has a part to play, the lack of tension makes her all the more enthralling, drawing you in as her genuine laughter slices through the intoxicating haze permeating the party. But the shocks don’t end there.

The first time Yuqi tells a joke, you’re caught so off-guard that you can’t help but burst into laughter. The second time, you’re more prepared, yet you’re still left in stitches. And the third—where you end up saying the punchline in unison with her—strikes all of you out. Tears form in the corner of your eyes and stream down the faces of the other two, leaving you all gasping for air even as you laugh so hard it hurts. As you regain your composure, you look through blurry eyes and catch a flash of something in Miyeon’s expression. It’s hard to pin down—a quirk of the mouth or a twitch of the nose—but there’s something hidden somewhere under her radiance that you fear is recognition. It certainly doesn’t help when she excuses herself for a moment, leaving you and Yuqi alone as she goes to refill her drink.

“I never would have thought you’d be a fan of the NBA,” you admit, turning and meeting her eyes with ease.

“Funny you should say that. I’d never have imagined you’d be someone who loves hot pot too! There’s this place in Beijing that’s to die for; you’ll have to try it sometime,” she says with an effortless smile. On instinct, you smile back, but just like that—a single mention of China—and you’re back in the real world.

The one where her vile actions are afterthoughts and her victims’ faces are forgotten. “Maybe I’ll have to go there next time I’m in the country,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you struggle to quell the surging storm.

The one where she’s been invited to these kinds of parties from day one while your invitation has been four years in the making. Her eyes twinkle excitedly as she asks, “Oh, have you visited before?”

The one where she seems incapable of losing while even a chance of victory costs you everything. “Twice, actually,” you explain, sighing deeply. “Once to Beijing, and once to Hangzhou.”

The one where she’s gotten under your skin, leaving you defenseless as she holds a gun to your heart. “Sounds like some bad memories,” she comments, a combination of curiosity and concern across her countenance as she refuses to let your gaze escape hers.

The one where you’ll do anything to hide the shameful fact that you wanted nothing more than to exactly what she wanted and scream her name that night in Hangzhou. So, you make sure she’ll forget you ever mentioned it. “Well, the last time I was in Beijing was almost four years ago, when someone spent well over ten minutes verbally assaulting a poor production assistant. So there’s that.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel their edge sever any connection that’d been built up over the course of the previous conversation. Her casual posture is cast aside as recognition and resentment both register, leaving only a smothering silence in the space between you two. Those eyes—sparkling just a moment ago with genuine interest—harden into smoky quartz. The edges of her lips thin and tighten, the earlier cheer fading into a cold, impassive line.

"You're judging me for something that happened four years ago?" she counters, voice low and coated in disbelief. “Most people would have forgotten something like that by now.”

“Most people don’t have the petrified visage of a poor stylist recounting your misdeeds burned into their memory.”

“Is that so?” she deadpans. “Tell me, was it Xuě? Lìlì? Who told you that story?” You meet her questions with silence, and she immediately pounces on the opportunity to continue on. “You don’t even know. You’re desperately clinging to a long dead justification and attempting to bring me down alongside it.”

Your blood returns to a familiar boil—the type only she can bring out of you—as you respond, “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in memory, but who are you to speak of justifications? The reason I can’t remember her name is because I was too stunned by the vitriol you were screaming into some poor man’s ear one room away from me!”

“He’d sabotaged my schedule, trying to make me miss an evaluation just before the final lineup was decided! He was trying to ruin my career!” Her reply climbs in volume, threatening to draw the attention of everyone in the vicinity as your tempers begin to flare and clash against one another once more.

“And why do you think he wanted to see you fail?” you ask, whispered words slipping out in a single breath. From your lips, a question. To her ears, an accusation. In both your minds, you know full well that the only part that matters is that it’s the beginning of an impasse. So now, you’re both stuck staring, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You just happen to be the first to do so. “We need to stop this; we’re getting nowhere, and we’re never going to get anywhere,” you say, exerting tremendous effort to keep your voice steady even as the pounding headache threatens your rhythm. “At least not on this floor.”

The look she gives you is incredulous, but you know her too well to miss the signs of intrigue hidden just beneath her mask. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“We’re both staying here, right?” you ask, pausing for a moment and earning a nod of confirmation. “Then we have a chance to truly make tonight memorable … maybe even have some fun along the way.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” she says aloud, but her eyes silently plead for you to continue.

Your smile stretches wide as the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable and dangerous as your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I think you will. I’ll message you my room number and we’ll go our separate ways—you can tell Miyeon that I was too tired to stay or something. You’re welcome to visit my room at any time, but if you decide not to, we’ll both have a quiet New Year’s Eve.”

“That isn’t much of a game,” she says, eyes narrowing in anticipation. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? There always is with you.”

“Of course, why play without stakes?” you confirm, laughing hollowly as you continue to dig your own grave. You’re too far in at this point—too invested in the lie to let it slide now. The game you two have played has always been dangerous, but now, with your pride on the line, you’ll accept nothing but a victory. You can’t lose to her. “I know that you’re coming back with a new album soon. If you manage to make it to midnight—if you win—I’ll make sure you shine brightest in the most glowing review I’ll ever write. And that’ll be it. We’ll both leave this hotel tomorrow and go back to our normal lives, pretending that none of this ever happened.”

“And if I don’t?” she asks, trying her best to remain calm.

She’s always brought out the worst in you. “Then you’ll come to my room and we’ll finally finish what we’ve been building up to for months.” It’s about time you showed it. “But I’ll write an article dragging the whole fucking group through the mud in the harshest condemnation you’ve ever seen, and the only consolation you’ll have is that only you and I will know it’s all your fault.”

“You wouldn’t,” she immediately retorts, but one look at the unhinged dance of flames in your eyes and she knows better than to test your resolve. “Fuck. You would. You absolutely fucking would. Why are you like this?”

It takes you a moment to gather your strength, but you reach deep into your bag of tricks and pull out a neglected yet powerful weapon: the truth. “Because I’m tired of seeing you escape the consequences of your actions. I want to see you make a decision that matters for once. And honestly, I’m just curious if you’re going to be able to sleep at night knowing you missed the chance for me to make all your dreams come true.”

You see hints of the ghost of her competitive spirit once more in her eyes, but it remains mostly hidden, obscured by the smolders left in the wake of the fire that burned so bright. “Yeah? My dreams are pretty hot.”

“Yeah? Mine too,” you fire back a moment later than you should, seriously unnerved once again by the specificity of her words. “Seems like we’ll both have to bring our best when you visit my room.”

“You’re so, so wrong …” she whispers, words exiting her mouth as if unbidden, captured by a phantom and transported to your ears against her will.

“I’ll leave you with your thoughts,” you whisper, leaning close to personally deliver your parting remarks into her ear. “Now, be a good little professional and smile as you walk away. You wouldn't want people to get the right idea about us, would you?”

You send one last synthetic smirk her way before departing, making your way towards the elevator as you check the time: a bit past ten, which means you’ll have to wait less than two hours for your answer. As you ride up to your floor, you send her your room number, closing the app before checking to see if she’d read your message. As you exit the empty elevator and see a flash of color in your periphery, your mind races with potential ideas. You immediately jump back in, hitting the button for another floor as you decide on a couple of places you’d like to stop by. Your mind is made up by the time the doors open once more, and you begin your preparations in full.

Regardless of the outcome, it’s going to be a long night.

-x-

No one ever views a high-tension elevator ride as a descent. Why would they? After all, the person closer to the top literally has the higher ground. However, the grimacing visage of the lone individual riding down towards another's room tells another story entirely, one that unveils just how little control they have over the situation.

The stop is sudden, shattering their reverie. A chime pierces the silence. The doors part, revealing a mockery of a red carpet and an empty vase before them. The figure exits, walking as slowly as they can bear. They reach an intersection and avoid the right choice. They walk towards the door in question. A single step. Then another. A third. A fourth. A fifth. A stop. A turn. A sigh.

An extended arm. An icy feeling. Cold metal. Another turn. Another sigh. An unlocked door. As expected.

The handle twists and the door swings open, revealing the dimly lit interior. What little light fills the shrouded space is amplified by the faint scent of rose. One sense is clear. Anticipation. The other is crystal. The sharp laughter of its inhabitant. Taunting. Beckoning. The lone figure allows the door to slam. They walk forward, braving the abyss.

-x-

The absurdity of the whole fucking situation hits you as you hear the hinges creak, ripping a cackle from deep within as you lay atop the bed. The door slams, and the soft sound of footsteps lasts only but a moment before emerging from the hallway is none other than the guest of honor, Song Yuqi. You capture her eyes and brace yourself for the heat, but the stare that meets yours is anything but. Her bloodshot gaze struggles to find your eyes as her eyelids fight an increasingly losing battle against the pull of gravity. Even as her sagging shoulders straighten slightly at the sight of you, it’s impossible to miss the lack of grace she normally displays. “Long nights?”

“And longer days,” she responds, clearly fighting back a yawn even as she paints on an insipid smirk.

“I know the feeling all too well,” you say, hints of sympathy beginning to seep through into your speech. “Come, share a drink with me. Maybe it’ll help ease your mind.”

Your words seem to inspire a slight awakening in her as she looks around and truly witnesses your handiwork for the first time. In your hand, a glass, with an identical twin on the bedside table alongside a bottle of your favorite wine. Scattered all around the room sit petals of rose, carefully arranged and lying so patiently as they paint a picture of your intended mood. You expected her to be here. You can only wonder if she ever believed differently.

“I could, but that isn’t why I’m here,” she says, sashaying across the room and leaning in close. “Besides,” she continues, overtly tipping your wine glass, allowing its contents to paint your shirt a dark burgundy. “We really need to do something about those dirty dirty clothes.”

You refuse to break eye contact, but your muscles tense at the chill running down your chest and staining your skin. Your hand shifts in a wordless challenge—one she’s all too willing to partake in—tipping the glass back towards her and causing a free flow once more. Admittedly, the effect of the sanguine liquid isn’t as dramatic flowing down the silk of her black dress as it is on your white shirt, but the view of her cleavage coated in crimson sends your heart rate into the stratosphere.

“We really do.” Your words barely have to travel as you stand and close what little distance remains between you two, casting the wineglass aside as you pull her into a passionate kiss. Her whole body melts into yours as your tongues clash, both of you fighting for superiority even now as you slowly push her back. You can feel the force of her heart, frenetically beating against her ribcage like a drum even as you both stumble and crash towards the bathroom. Once within, you push open the shower door, haphazardly turning the handle somewhere near the top as the deluge drenches you both. The sudden cold is a shock to both of you, earning simultaneous gasps as you watch the water coat her flowing golden hair before descending upon the midnight silk of her dress.

As the temperature rises, so too does the heat. Her soaked attire begins to cling to the curves of her body, and you're more than happy to do the same. Your hands grip and grasp at her breasts once again, savoring how perfectly they seem to fit against your palms. Hers find your hair, tugging insistently and intertwining pleasure and pain in the way only she seems to have perfected.

“Ffuuucckk.” The groan she elicits from you slips past your lips and behind hers almost instantly, sending shockwaves that resonate into the kiss neither of you has allowed to break since the water's initial shock. You barely have to wait before your moans are mirrored as she murmurs back, “God, the way you—fuck—how can you …”

The most minute of mercies is all you're willing to offer as you detach from her lips, instead tracing a perfect mirror of the path you'd taken sometime between a couple days and a lifetime ago: starting right behind her ear before nibbling on her earlobe, the lightest of kisses on her cheek and along her jawline, past the reminders of your indecencies, then finally all the way down the throbbing vein of her neck.

“I need to be inside of you,” you say, searching for her eyes and finding them somewhere amidst the storm.

“Right fucking now.” She finishes the sentence for you, nodding in agreement and gripping the hem of her dress as you tear off your belt.

Some part of you deep within sends a prayer of gratitude to the shower’s architect as you utilize the vast expanse of its luxurious interior to slam her into one of the drier walls outside the direct flow of the water. Her once-slumped shoulders heave from a lack of air and anything but a lack of anticipation, eyes wide and wild as they invite you to approach. You're all too eager to accept, planting one hand on her shoulder as the other reaches past your waist and finally frees your cock from the confines of your clothing. After blindly pulling her well-drenched panties to the side, you look her in the eyes once again—make sure that she knows the precipice you stand atop and that she's willing to jump with you. With the smallest of nods and not even a hint of hesitation, she steps up to the edge alongside you. Together, you take the plunge.

Immediately, the friction overwhelms your senses as you push into her, earning echoing moans from you both as you shudder at the sensation. “Fucking hell, you're incredible,” you growl, unable to silence the admission as you desperately focus your entire being into slowly progressing deeper.

“Keep fucking going,” she’s quick to growl back. “Don't you dare fucking stop until you're fully buried inside of me.”

"Of course, princess,” you manage to say even as you struggle to breathe. “Your wish is my command.”

"Fuck you, stop calling me that," she hisses through gritted teeth. "If you wanted a princess so bad, you should have invited Miyeon."

"But darling," you declare, drama dripping off your words. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from your friends? Or is it different now, now that I've got you exactly where you want you? Do you want them here to watch as you whimper and writhe under my touch, wetter than the ocean yet begging for more?"

“I fucking hate—” You cut her loathing short as you bury yourself to the hilt, ripping another round of moans from you both. Even as the heat between you two and in the nearby pipes rises, you can't help but revel in it, savoring the taste of your victory. You give her no chance to conclude her thought as you up the intensity, slamming your hips into hers at an ever-ascending rate.

While one hand remains bound to her breast, the other finds a home tangled in the soaked strands of her hair. Intentionally or otherwise, your hold on her tightens as the vice grip of her cunt further suffocates your shaft, granting you both the friction you've been desperately craving. The water quickly becomes the second biggest drowning hazard as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm you both—pushing you to the edge of ecstasy and tempting you to tip over it. “Holy fuck,” she sobs, voice strangled, scratchy, and nearly silent beneath the downpour. “You—you—”

This time, you're kind enough to allow her to attempt to continue, but her verbal communication skills fail her entirely. On the other hand, her body seems all too willing to tell you the whole story and a bit more. She's absolutely gushing around your cock as she clings onto you with more than just hands, seemingly unwilling to crest the climax without you in lock-step behind her. Unfortunately, the universe seems even less willing to cater to her requests than you are, sending her careening off the clifftop without even a morsel of remorse. The spectacle is sensational, leaving you so close to finishing alongside her, but you’re anything but done here.

It takes a herculean effort, but you manage to pull out of her, causing her eyes to shoot open for the first time in forever as she stares daggers into your soul. Your view is incredible: you see her makeup, running and ruined as her tears fall alongside the shower's flow down her face. As much as you'd like to suffer under the scrutiny of her stunned stare forever, you have a better idea. You toy with her slight frame once more, flipping her around with ease as you push her face first against the shower's glass wall. Within seconds, you're back inside her, thrusting like a madman as cries of ecstasy escape her once more.

“You like that?” you taunt, mind racing a mile a minute as your thoughts try to keep pace with your thrusts. “Like the preview of what's to come?”

“What … the fuck … are you talking about?” she gasps between broken breaths.

"Oh, you couldn't possibly have thought that this would be the end, did you?” you ask, expecting anything but an answer as she looks over her shoulder and you watch the danger in her stare dance behind her eyes. “No no no, next I'm going to take you back out there and fuck you against the window so that anyone who looks up is met with the glorious sight of how much of a slut you are.”

Even through her streaks of tears—born of both pleasure of pain—your inciting yet inviting words are met by both defiance and delight alike. Her voice never wavers as she warns, “I fucking dare you to try it. You're just as likely to get burned as I am.”

Your eyebrow arches, intrigue clear in your expression as you comment, “I thought we agreed that we both like to play with fire.”

“Keep fanning the flames and you just might find out,” she says, the amusement in her smirk standing strong even as you continue ravaging her insides. Somewhere—hidden amid the seabed beneath the waves of pleasure rocking her body—she even finds the audacity to wink and you both find yourselves wearing a certain type of smile. The type you both wear so well; the one only worn in each other's presence.

The shower's flow and slapping of skin keeps the silence at bay as your serenade of sin shifts from semi-verbal back to solely physical. Her lower lip finds a familiar home between her teeth as you turn her to face you once more and choose to plant your own pair atop one of her swollen nipples. You're all too willing to nip, suck, and tease at the sensitive nub, elevating her moans even further until your profusion of pleasures pushes her past a fever pitch.

“Fuck me damnit,” she demands, accentuating her point with a roll of her hips that sends a spike of dopamine through every inch of your body. “Fuck me and don't you dare fucking stop until I cum all over your cock again.”

Your mind wants nothing more than to retort, but your body has higher priorities, using that precious oxygen to power your thrusts as you lead the chase towards your shared climax. It'd be a kindness to give her exactly what she wants, but for once, you're willing to indulge her desires, especially since you conveniently seem to want the same thing. So, you fight, prolonging the burn in the hopes that you can bask in the flames of her desire a little longer, long enough to let it scorch you to cinders until there’s nothing left but the ashes of your self-control.

You only have to stretch your efforts across a minute at most before you’re met with a familiar sight. Even though you've only seen them twice before, you immediately recognize the signs of her oncoming orgasm—the shaking of her shoulders and the hiccups in her throat that convey an uncannily familiar feeling. “I'm close,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against hers. “Where should—”

“Inside!” she rasps, straining to choke out every word. “Do it damn you—I want to feel you shaking as you shoot every last drop inside of me.”

“Jesus fucking christ—” Your reply comes to a sudden end as you cut your words short, knowing better than to ask for mercies she'll never give. Instead, you do your best to cling to whatever coherence remains after the damage her words dealt, desperate to experience the absolution that only the statuette of sin in your arms can offer. And offer it she shall, as it's only moments later that her orgasm overtakes her, suffocating your cock with her tightness as the pace of your thrusting is brought to a near stop. Any grievances you might have had are gone in an instant as the sight of what you do to her sends you soaring over the peak after her, twitching and thrusting until you bury your entire length as deep as she can take. Rope after rope of your cum act as the strokes of a brush as you paint her insides white, defiling her in a wholly new way that neither of you could possibly enjoy more.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to a stop, but you refuse to. Neither of you gets a moment to rest as you instead resume fucking her, sending shockwaves up her spine and down your shaft as overstimulation brings you both to the familiar convergence of pain and pleasure. Every alarm bell in your body rings in unison, begging you to grant it respite from the overwhelming sensitivity as you continue to fuck your cum into her. But just as you've always done when it comes to Yuqi, you ignore every warning sign in sight as you keep thrusting, continuing your assault long after she's burst through her breaking point once more. Her third orgasm hits harder than the previous two combined, forcing you to keep her upright as you give her everything she's ever asked for and more.

Her shaking form eventually stills and you finally yield, granting her the most miniscule of mercies by withdrawing your cock from her. She immediately slides down the glass of the wall, collapsing onto the floor as you try to steady yourself and stay standing. In your efforts to do so, your hand finds the shower's handle and you cease its flow, allowing the echoes of your extended recoveries to resonate throughout the space.

Black spots cloud the edges of your vision as your muscles ache in the best kind of way. A minute later, when your sight finally returns in full, you're met by the picturesque sight of Song Yuqi—one of K-Pop's brightest rising stars—burnt out and panting at your feet as she too tries to come to terms with what just occurred. After another minute, you finally bring your breathing under control, but she's the first to find her voice.

“You … holy fuck,” she whimpers, gaze still hazy as she searches for yours.

“Yeah,” you say, eternally grateful for the eloquence gained through years of writing experience. “I've never …”

“Yeah?” she asks, rubbing her eyes and finally lifting the fog. “Never what?”

“Any of it—hell, all of it—nothing's ever come close to what just happened,” you admit, offering her a helping hand she’s more than willing to take. “Don't you dare lie to me and say you're any different.”

“No, never,” she tells you, allowing the truth to finally be out in the open.

With so little distance between you two, there’s nowhere to hide as you hold each other close, daring the other to be the first to break. There’s something in her eyes that threatens to bind or blind you—something you dare not confront. Not tonight. Maybe never. So, under the weight of her stare, you allow yourself to be the first to look away. “We should get out of these clothes before we catch something serious,” you murmur vaguely in her direction. “I’ll lay everything out to dry; you take a shower and I’ll follow suit once you’re done. That sound good?”

“Something like that.”

Her monotone delivery leaves you with nothing but questions, but you know better than to allow yourself to search her face for answers. Instead, you step outside the shower, dripping moisture all over the floor as you finally strip out of the saturated suit you’ve sported since sunrise. Once naked, you turn to her and try your best not to stare as you take her bundle of clothes before she steps back into the shower. It’s only a brief moment, yet it’s the first time you see her fully bare, leaving even the most inspired corners of your imagination looking like a child’s scrawling in comparison to the artistry that is her body. While you’re sad to see her go, you love to watch her leave—eyes glued to the slight bounce of her ass and rippling of her toned thighs as she walks out of your sight and under the water flow once more.

As she washes away the traces of your transgressions, you do your best to lay everything out to dry. You hastily unfold her balled up dress and lay it out across the bathroom sink, then make your way back out to the room and lay your own clothing across the table and chairs in the corner of the room. You can’t help but crack a hint of a smile at the rose petals still lying in wait, but your eyes truly come to a halt upon the wine entering your view. Barely even a decision is made before you’re striding across the floor, stopping only once the bottle is within reach and the cork has been yanked out once more. The glasses you’d requested are forgotten as you instead drink straight from the bottle, savoring the flavor as its contents dull your senses and wash away your inhibitions. It’s a familiar feeling and a far better friend than you’d like to admit.

You barely even have to kill time before you hear the shower cease once more, giving you your cue to reenter the bathroom and be greeted by the goddess’ mortal form once more. The simple act of her standing there is a gift to you as your perspective presents you with a view of her perfectly smooth skin acting as the backdrop to the droplets’ descent, her towel telling the stupefying story of her subtle curves as it hugs her hips in an impossibly tight embrace. Your eyes fight gravity as they yield to temptation, traveling up the tense muscles of her back and past the sharp edges of her shoulders, continuing ever upwards until they pass her long locks of brilliant blonde; continuing still, all the way until you catch a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and how they've been observing you ogling her.

“You should hop in the shower. I still need to dry my hair,” she suggests, surprisingly sparing you the shame of having been caught staring.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, averting your eyes and walking away. The heat of the water immediately relieves your tension, allowing you a moment you refuse to use for reflection. Instead, you rush through your cleaning routine, barely registering any external stimuli as you singularly focus on your sole goal. When you shut the water off a couple minutes later, you’re met solely by silence. When you step out of the shower, you’re met by your reflection as the only other inhabitant of the bathroom. And once you’re fully dried off and step back into the bedroom, you’re met with a sight shocking enough to restart your heart. She’s there, on your bed, hair splayed out like a curtain of gold laid upon the pillow as the familiar pink and red of rose petals laid delicately atop your skin, obscuring your view of her chest and cunt.

“This won’t do …” she drawls, dissatisfaction salient in each sultry syllable as her eyes lock on to the destination of roughly all of your blood flow. “You’re not nearly hard enough for me.”

With a single, impossibly deep breath, she blows away the rose petals, revealing the obsidian lace of the lingerie she somehow dried during your shower. Without hesitation, your body begins to address the object of her anger, growing painfully hard and even more so as she curls a single finger, beckoning you over with a look that could set the Han River ablaze.

You’re all too happy to oblige. As you draw closer, you notice her freshly applied makeup: smokey eyeshadow and ruby red lips that paint a crystal-clear message in your mind. She’s not here to fuck around. She’s here to fuck you within an inch of your life.

The bed is more than large enough for two, and as you lay beside her, you amend one of your earlier observations; while her bra has remained dry, her panties are absolutely fucking soaked. You turn to her, opening your mouth and intending to ask her how she did any of this, but a single finger laid upon your lips locks them and keeps you silent. Her lithe form easily climbs atop you, straddling your hips as she leans in, giving you a fucking fantastic view of her cleavage once again as she nibbles on your earlobe.

“My fucking turn.”

With a roll of her hips, she grinds against your shaft, making your cock burn with sensation as the lace drags up and down the sensitive skin. At this angle—you beneath her as she coaxes everything she wants from you and more—you’re caught under the cruelty of her grin as the light casts shadows that accentuate rather than hide her beauty. Another roll, another realization. She’s got you cornered—physically, mentally—she might as well have a gun to your chest and yet, there’s a thrill coursing through your veins. When she captures your lips, she does so with a ravenous frenzy, teeth sinking into your lower lip and pressing until they’re dripping with the blood she craves. There’s no mistaking the fact that you’re the prey she’s been hunting. All that’s left to decide is whether or not you want to escape, and you’re leaning towards no.

"Are you scared?" she asks. It doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like a challenge.

"No," you answer truthfully, knowing full well that in the midst of this chaos—this maelstrom of ash and anticipation—fear has no place. “I can handle the heat.”

“Can you now?” Her laughter is a wicked, dancing flame that sears your senses as you witness her smile run ruthlessly red as she licks the remnants of your blood off her upper lip. “If that’s the case …” she trails off for a moment, reaching back and grasping your length with the unimaginably smooth skin of her hand. “Then don’t come crying if you end up getting burned.”

In the next breath, she takes yours away, sinking onto your shaft with a devastating aggression. Immediately, your lungs begin to tense and strain, desperately searching for air amongst the shallow gasps you sneak in between the slamming of her hips. It’s futile. When she feels like this—hot, wet, and walls wrapped around you so impossibly tightly—you’re better off attempting to offer up a prayer than trying to seize control.

Her onslaught leaves you reeling, back arching and fingers digging into the curves of her hips as you chase an even greater high. She’s relentless, unyielding, as if she refuses to allow you even the slightest opportunity to halt her momentum. Even as she gasps in exertion, it still adds to your torment, sending you tumbling ever closer to the edge of pleasure and pain alike. Her nails rake down your chest, carving molten mementos of her insatiable desire that you won’t soon forget, yet the more these sensations blend beautifully amidst this consuming chaos, the more irresistible it becomes. The way she rides you is primal, rough, yet somehow, unmistakably her. Demonic laughter echoes throughout the room as she rolls her hips ruthlessly, yet still it brazenly teases a promise of the pleasure to come.

Her body moves rhythmically against yours, riding up and down the length of your shaft at an incredible tempo as your heart rate soars ever upward. Your vision is pulled in a million different directions as every aspect of her figure demands your undivided attention—the ghosts of her fingertips as she delicately traces the lines of your abs, the faint hint of her nipples poking against the constrictive fabric of her bra, the unrestrained glee in her grin as she triumphs over the echoes of fatigue and maintains her ceaseless assault. Ultimately, your wandering eyes come to a stop at the sight of her evocative visage, long locks framing her face like a curtain, shielding the rest of the world from the harrowing beauty of this huntress whose sight searches solely for you. You can sense the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, a feral delight in seeing you under her control. Her voice is a low purr that vibrates through your core as she leans in even closer. "Scared now?”

"Never," you choke out in response, swallowing hard as her breath cascades over the sensitive skin of your neck.

She chuckles lightly, "We'll see about that."

You respond not with words, but with a tighter grip on her hips as you sense an opening and thrust up into her, disrupting her tempo with ease and issuing a silent challenge. She gasps in response, and there are hints of flushes—flashes of hunger—across those features hidden in shadow. Her satisfied smirk fades from her face, displaying instead a delirious delight that makes your pounding heart skip a beat. “Such audacity,” she murmurs, subtle signs of mirth showing in her shaking voice.

She’s quick to adapt to the new tempo, moving in perfect synchronization with your thrusts instead of attempting to seize back sole control. Somewhere along the thread that’s inexplicably tied you two together, you find harmony, allowing you to match each other’s strikes with dangerous precision. Her hands climb your body, tangling themselves in your hair and tugging harshly enough to send shivers down your spine. You cling onto her as if she’s the only thing keeping your consciousness intact, fingers digging into her hips deep enough to bruise as each stroke causes an explosion of sensation across your entire being. It’s an intricate dance of power and pleasure: intoxicating, addicting, and—just like she’s always been—impossible to resist.

Amid the rasps of fuck and you and I and oh my god and yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss, you see a flash of inspiration in her eyes, warning you even before she acts that she’s up to no good. A groan of frustration is ripped from your chest as she slows the pace, leaving you burning with a desire for more pace, more friction, more her, but if the look of bliss on her face at the long, slow strokes is any indication, you’re likely to be left wanting. It’s even worse when she stops entirely, hand wrapping around your throat, desperate for air even as she refuses to allow you any. It gives you a second to stare, to really take in the sight of her as she studies you right back. Even like this, the “flaws” in her appearance—hair disheveled, bra crooked, panties tugged aside, makeup marred by exertion—only serve to further showcase her perfection, leaving you hungry for more. You relax your clenched fingers and grant her hips the slightest of respites as you reach behind her back and unclasp her bra, finally freeing her breasts and their stiff peaks that call your name. Her panties present a bit of a conundrum, but you’re so intoxicated by the image of her you refuse to be reasonable. You muster up your initiative as your hands slide down her sides and rip them to shreds, finally revealing her in her glorious entirety.

“Those were expensive, you know,” she spits, but the words don’t hold as much venom as they normally do.

You shrug, wrapping your hand around hers on your throat as you reply, “So was my scarf.”

And then you both get back to trying to fuck the other into an early grave.

There’s a tempest of wills clashing—her burning desire against your ceaseless refusal to relent—that elevates you both past any limits you might have believed you’d had. The size of your hand dwarfs hers, but there’s an undercurrent of understanding, even as she so clearly communicates the threat she poses. Her eyes, shrouded in shadow, catalog every twitch of your body beneath her. She releases her grip on you before pushing herself up against your chest, bracing her palms as she arches her back in the most alluringly seductive way. The freedom granted to your airflow is for naught as the sight of her leaves you without breath, thought, or any way of slowing the climax you’re suddenly hurtling towards.

“You’re so fucking hard for me,” she whispers, cruelty and craving alike coloring her countenance as she captures your eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? If you ask nicely, I might even give it to you.”

“In your fucking dreams,” you fire back, a feral smirk spreading across your face as the opening notes of her melodic laughter play for you.

But her song stalls as her breath hitches, hiccups of pain and pleasure overpowering her as you feel the quakes overtake her. You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her close as her orgasm overwhelms her, coating your shaft and gushing down your thighs as she reaches the pinnacle of euphoria. Her teeth sink into your shoulder, seeking stability instead of sanguine satisfaction as her moans send vibrations across your skin, sweeping you up in the ecstasy she’s experiencing. You groan in agonizing pleasure as you meet her atop cloud nine, wincing at the magmatic flow of your white-hot cum shoots into her. In each other's arms you find incomparable pleasure, traveling together all the way from the ninth circle of hell to the seventh heaven.

You stay inside her longer than you need to, long enough for both of you to catch your breath. With a regretful groan, you pull out of her, opening up the floodgates of both of your cum to flow freely down her beautifully bruised thighs. You look to her, desperate to call for a draw, but instead you’re met with the face wearing the weight of weariness and shadowy eyes that seem to see right through you. Before she can even offer a single word, she collapses, tumbling to your side and laying her face against a pillow before going still.

-x-

After a brief confirmation of a pulse, you pull the sheets and covers over her, leaving her in silence before heading into the bathroom and cleaning yourself up. Upon your return, you’re anything but surprised to see that she’s gone, drifted off to dreamland, taken by tranquility. The sight steals your breath away, stunning you as your mind grapples with the notion that this peaceful sleeping angel inhabits the same body as the devil who rode you ‘til rapture mere minutes ago. You muster up a couple crumbs of courtesy as you quietly move through your hotel room, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a shirt you’d rather hide beneath the hoodie you instead hang on the door before sneaking out into the silence of the hallway.

You take a left, then a right, pause, then walk past the vase you’d raided earlier and choose to descend as the elevator doors close behind you. On the back wall sits a mirror and trapped within stands your reflection, staring through you as you study yourself. Your practiced posture protects the truth of the present—prevents the outside world from seeing the fatigue pervasive throughout your system. You’re shaking out of your reverie by the sound of a ding and the sliding of doors, revealing your desired floor behind you. You back out, refusing to break eye contact until the doors do the deed for you. You sigh, turn, shake your head, then trek forwards towards your destination. Ahead—beneath a wooden slab stained with stories—sits a suite of stools, empty and for the taking. You mount one and offer a small nod to the bartender, who seems surprised by your presence, though not your appearance.

“Long night?” he asks, grabbing a glass and setting it atop a coaster as he finds the answer in your eyes long before you vocalize it.

“I mean, yeah,” you chuckle, running your finger around the rim of the glass. “In all the best ways. Surprise me.”

His eyebrow rises as he catches the glass you slide back to him, pondering for a moment before turning and scouring the shelves. “Oh yeah? Then how come you’re here, especially now? Don’t get many visitors this late after hours.”

“There’s, uh …” you pause, considering how much honesty you want to offer before resigning yourself to sharing it in full. “There’s a girl in my hotel room. You can guess what we did there, but she’s asleep now and I don’t want to be there when she wakes up.”

“That’s a new one,” he responds, hints of a surprised smile spreading across his face as he slides back the glass, now containing a connoisseur’s drink of choice. “Though I’ll admit that still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“Thanks,” you say, picking up the cup and swirling the liquid around, allowing the aroma to saturate your senses as the dark liquid sloshes around and splashes the frozen orb within. “Honestly, I’m hoping that with a little time, I might just find it at the bottom of this glass.”

“Then happy hunting, friend. Let me know if I can get you anything else,” he offers before turning to resume his cleaning.

“Will do,” you reply, raising your drink in thanks as the snug solace of silence settles over the space. A sip, a thought. Another, for naught. Try as you might, you can’t seem to wrap your head around why you feel the way you do. Theoretically, this “should” be the perfect justification for you to rip her next promotion to absolute shreds. You “should” be foaming at the mouth at this opportunity, the chance for you to give her what she deserves. This is the stuff of dreams, right? It “should” be.

You “should” be a lot of things. Conscience-stricken should not be one of them. Yet here you are. Regretful. Hesitant. Weak. Everything you shouldn’t be. Everything you hated being. Everything you swore you’d never be again.

And somehow, Song fucking Yuqi has the power to bring all of that out of you.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. About her. More than you’d like to admit, yet likely not as much as you should. But it’s only here, in this drunken stupor amidst the forgotten hours of the night, that you finally take the time to truly reflect on your relationship thus far. You’re one of many who’s watched her shine brightest under the spotlight’s glow, but one of few who’s seen who she is in the dark. You’re aware of the disdain lurking behind every easy smile she gives, yet the taste of her cherry lipstick is more familiar than your morning coffee. You’ve heard all the honeyed lies she whispers so freely, but no one else knows how sweet she sounds when screaming your name. You might be the only one who knows she’s a nightmare masquerading as a dream, but you’re undeniably unsure whether it’s one you want to wake up from. So many thoughts, but not even a hint of the truth you’re hunting for.

But then, somewhere in the haze, you finally find the missing piece: it’s the hypocrisy of it all that drives you mad. It's the fact that she gets to have her cake and eat it too; the fact that she gets to grow her fame without growing as a person. It's the fact that you had to get your first editor—your friend—fired because he was limiting your creative freedom. It’s the fact that her group can undergo a massive scandal and have it all swept under the rug in less than six months’ time. It's the fact that you've had to abandon the unknown groups with the most compelling stories because they're not the ones who generate views. It's the fact that you've had to budget for the price of your ambition while she can max out her social credit without a second thought.

Worst of all, it’s the fact that you’re stuck wide awake in the lost hours of the day with nothing but her on your mind while she sleeps serenely in a suite paid for by the fruits of your labor. You've long since come to terms with the fact that she's living rent-free in your head; now you're just disputing her claim to the master bedroom and both parking spots. The possibility that you might be living in your worst nightmare—that you might have become an afterthought—fills you with an icy foreboding that even a thousand scalding showers couldn’t thaw. And there’s still nothing you can do about it.

If you’re being honest, there might never be.

You slam back the rest of your drink, desperate to display a degree of decisiveness wherever possible. You’re gentler when you set it back on the coaster, but there’s still enough force to cause the bartender to turn.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” he asks, looking down at the glass before meeting your eyes once again.

“Can’t say I did,” you chuckle darkly, pausing for a moment before sliding it back to him. “But it couldn’t hurt to check again.”

Continued in Act Three …

(I’d like to express my appreciation to @capslocked for both their direct and indirect contributions to this fic. They’ve been the biggest catalyst for my growth as a writer the past couple months and I can’t thank them enough for their time and patience. Once you’re done with this fic, please do yourself a favor and go read “Starlet” if you’re in the mood for more Miyeon & Yuqi content. Once you’re done with that, please do me a favor and bully them into writing Part 2, tyvm!)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #yuqi smut #yuqi fanfic #idol x reader #idol x male reader #gidle yuqi #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi #slow burn #gidle miyeon #miyeon

347 notes · View notes

lilybug-02 · 5 months

Text

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨

I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨

It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…

Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞

Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!

(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)

I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐

You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐

Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥

—

My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.

I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.

Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!

Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!

I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)

Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao

#chara is literally built like a rectangle. idk why ive never noticed that #a thick greenbean #and Asriel is kinda half and half when it comes to standing on his toes or regular foot. He has a more top heavy approach to his balance #bread #undertale #deltarune chara timeline #my art #chara #asriel #character sheets #character references #art #deltarune #happy 2 year anniversary!!!!#college chara #college asriel #darkworld

714 notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 3 months

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #hockey au #neighbor au #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

330 notes · View notes

m3hgumi · 9 months

Text

— when you have period cramps pt 2

a/n: check out part 1 to this here!

pairings: yuta okkotsu x f!reader, toge inumaki x f!reader, nanami kento x f!reader

genres: fluff, comfort, so much fluff bye

word count: 729

yuta okkotsu

bro was SO STRESSED 😭

first time you were doubled down in pain clutching onto yourself on the sofa in the common room of the dorm he thought you were dying

“oh my god y/n are you okay? why are you laying down like that? is something hurting you? tell me where it hurts, i swear i’ll beat up whoever tried to hurt yo-“

“babe calm down and just get me a heating pad from maki. please.”

“on it 🫡” HES LITERALLY SO CUTE PLEASEKWKSKS

usually he’d stay by your side bringing you snacks whenever you asked or just talked to distract you from the pain

this later turned into hour long video calls during his downtime when he started training with miguel overseas

he’d talk for as long as he could, sharing the new food he tried, what miguel has been teaching him, and updates on the mission that led him there

because of the time difference and also how busy he was, he wasn’t able to reach you as often as he’d like to

he’d apologize for not being able to physically be there to comfort you, which you would wave off with a laugh because there isn’t really anything that could be done about it

he was trying his best though and that’s all that mattered to you 😪

inumaki toge

like itadori he was also very confused at first as to why you were wincing in pain while walking awkwardly towards him

he’d calmly ask you if you got hurt anywhere, with his hands reaching to you as he thought you were about to fall over

once the two of you got to somewhere more comfortable (like the common room or his dorm), you begin to explain where the pain was coming from

he could only sympathize with you, giving a worrisome and concerning look

but now he also realizes why maki gets snappier than usual on a particular week of the month 🤭

from then on he would be your personal errand boy, grabbing pads, chocolate, or any other good you’re craving from the store whenever you asked

he’d let you lay your head in his lap as you kept the heating pad on your lower stomach

he’d get you to watch youtube videos and tiktoks with him (anything you like)

if your cramps were getting particularly bad, he’d gently take your hand and draw circles on it in an attempt to ease the pain

if you’re comfortable with it he’d also do the same on your stomach (where the pain was really coming from)

though he can’t really endlessly talk to you to distract from the pain, his warming presence was more than enough to lull your mind from the pain

nanami kento

over the years he’s gotten very good at helping you get through shark week

like megumi he also has your period tracker synced to his phone so he can be notified of when he should stock up on supplies (ie. pads, compresses, snacks, pain meds, etc.)

he’ll also try (keyword: try) to not go into overtime at work so he could as much time with you as possible

also like megumi he isn’t fazed by your emotional outbursts or mood swings, as he knows its just the pain getting the better of you at times

if you don’t usually have an appetite while you’re on your period, he’ll cook you a small meal and slowly feed it to you, making sure you actually ate it before going back into the kitchen again

he’ll also try to limit the amount or cravings (chocolate and chips) you eat during the week and replace them with healthier options like fruit (ok health icon nanami 🙄) since he doesn’t want you having a stomachache after eating all of those sweets

also because it mildly reminds him of gojos gross sugar intake

if your feet or shoulders are aching, he’ll gladly give you massages to ease the tension in those areas

if you get bored of the shows on tv then he will read to you until you fall asleep

his reading voice, typically dull and monotone, rings music to your ears as your consciousness begins to slip away, resulting in your eyelids coming closer together to let you fall into a peaceful sleep (i should maybe shut up now)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #nanami kento #yuta okkotsu #inumaki toge #nanami kento x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki toge x reader #nanami headcanons #yuta headcanons #inumaki headcanons #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #nanami x reader #inumaki fluff #yuta x reader

988 notes · View notes

cait-with-luv · 1 year

Text

ʜᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴇ, ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ.

❝All you wanted was to help your best friend get over his ex girlfriend. How did you manage to end up confessing your feelings?❞

Header Credit: Me

・❥ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

・❥ Genre: Best Friends To Lovers; Fluff; Humour; Smut; Angst (if you squint)

・❥ Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), NOT SAFE FOR RAMADAN

・❥ Word Count: 7.5K

・❥ Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, little fight between his ex and Y/N, Jungkook can be a bit senseless but can't we all?, sexual tension, heavy makeout, explicit consensual sex, dirty talk, pet names, oral (Female and Male receiving), dom!JK, sub!Reader, hair pulling, unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, spanking, praise kink, rough sex, marking (hickeys, biting)

Jungkook didn't know how he ended up here. He just remembers exiting his shared apartment in a fit of rage, anxiety, and hurt, wandering the streets of Seoul blindly, his mind racing with thoughts that he wanted to be rid of. So how he managed to end up at his best friend's apartment complex without realizing was baffling to him. It was almost like his heart knew who he needed right now. The one person who will sit and listen to him without interrupting or pretending to listen. The one person who would make him laugh when he needed to be cheered up. The person who undoubtedly cared for him no matter what bullshit they go through together or wouldn’t get annoyed at the dumb shit he says. That person was his best friend, the girl he grew up with. You.

He absolutely knew you'd tear him a new one for showing up at three in the morning without warning. You liked your sleep. No, loved your sleep, he always teases you about how you love it more than your own best friend. And now, he was about to disturb it. You were a force to be reckoned with when your beauty sleep is broken. The only time Jungkook will admit he's terrified of you.

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding before raising his hand and knocking on your door a few times knowing it would take a few more to awaken you. He almost grimaces, almost, as he hears you stomping and your muffled yells of insults for the intrusion on your sleep.

Incoming in 3, 2, 1-

“I swear to god whoever woke me at three in the morning, you are getting castrate- woah, you look like shit dude.”

“Well hello to you too, Bug,” Jungkook says sarcastically, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shaking his head to fix his bangs, and staring at you with tears in his eyes as he finally lets them out now that he was standing in front of his safe person. But somehow you always managed to make him laugh. You had never been good with people crying, it always amused him and right now it did too, watching the reaction you always seem to have. Sheer panic and awkwardness.

“Shi-no! Don’t you dare cry on me, dude! I can do anything but tears Jeon! In! Get in now! Sit and wipe them tears with a tissue, or a blanket I don’t care just get rid of them! I’ll get the wine!” You ramble in panic, grabbing his arm and practically yanking the poor heartbroken boy into your apartment, shutting the door before rushing to your kitchen to get said items. It was clear he could use a glass. Or five.

Jungkook sniffles and plops down onto your couch, swiping his tears with his shirt and letting out a little laugh as you shuffle into the living room with your arms filled with snacks and a wine bottle and glasses in your hand which he takes an effort to prevent you from smashing them, watching as you sit next to him and release all the snacks into both your laps.

“I will never understand how you are able to carry so much. I would have dropped it all before I even left the kitchen.” Jungkook mumbles, tilting his head as you scoff opening the wine and flicking the lid off, grabbing his glass.

“That’s because I’m a woman and over the many years of our existence we have evolved to have velociraptor hands to carry multiple things at once, now take your pick on snacks and tell me what’s caused you to show up at my door at this time of the night? What’s wrong, Honey Bun?” You pout as you hand him the drink and ruffle his hair playfully earning a whine and a glare from him.

“I told you to stop doing that.” He grumbles before plucking a bag of chips from your lap and opening them and sighing. He really didn’t know where to begin. Does he just rip the bandaid off or not? Eventually, he decided that yes, he just need to rip the bandaid off. He needed to come to terms with it too.

“Hyun-Ae and I broke up.” He says dejectedly, munching on his chips, raising an eyebrow as you choke on your wine and look at him in disbelief, putting the glass down on the coffee table and turning your body to look at him fully.

“What?! Why? You two were literally on a date earlier!” You say in shock. You were confused, Jungkook had face timed you that morning talking about the date he planned for her. He had seemed so proud of himself and the big smile on his face talking about it had made your heart flutter. His smile always did but he didn’t have to know that.

“I know. It went so great too Y/N, we were happy but by the end of it, her mood had changed. I thought I did something wrong, she ignored me for the rest of the day until before when I got fed up and wanted to know what was wrong if I had messed up and she just blew up at me. She thought I was proposing and got mad that I didn’t. So you know I told her just because I didn’t propose doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to at all. I mean, Bug we hadn’t been together for a year yet.” He remarks and snags his wine off the table and takes a big gulp of it.

You blink at him, in complete disbelief at what you were hearing. You didn’t know what to say but he wasn’t finished yet, there was more to this so you allowed him to carry on. To vent and get everything he needed off his chest. So you sat. You listened, nodding your head and humming in acknowledgment so he knew you were paying attention to every single word he uttered, taking his hand in yours when he holds his out wanting some comfort from you. By the time he had finished, you were annoyed at her, angry. And Jungkook? Well, he was now three bottles in and hiccuping, swaying slightly in his place. He was definitely gonna have a hangover tomorrow.

“So…basically, she got mad that you didn’t propose to her when you’ve only been together for what? Ten months? You told her one day in the future you would just not right now and she got even angrier and gaslit you saying that you didn’t love her and that she wasn’t good enough for you and asking if you were cheating on her? Then tried to get you to get on one knee right then and there to propose to show you loved her or it was over?” You sum up, carefully taking the glass out of his hand that he was beginning to lose grip on. That was enough alcohol for one night.

“Y-Yup! I-I told her I just wasn’t ready for that commitment y-you know? It didn’t mean I was n-never going to. I-It’s a big step in a r-relationship.” He hiccups, throwing himself back on the couch and pouting, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I know that, Honey Bun. I know. It’s gonna be okay alright? There’s plenty of fish in the sea dude.” You sigh patting his leg that he had sprawled over your lap, raising an eyebrow as he lifts his head up and frowns.

“F-Fish? B-But I’m a human dumbass. I c-can’t date a fish. That’s fucked up.” He slurs, poking you. You slap his hand away and roll your eyes at him. He really did concern you sometimes. Drunk Jungkook was another level of senseless.

"Sometimes I wish I could IV some sense into your bloodstream. Seriously, you are so dense. It’s a figure of speech, not literal Jungkook." You grumble, pushing his head to lay back again, chuckling at the sound of realization he makes.

“Ahhh, I get it now.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Of course not. I think you should get some sleep Kook and then when you’re sober we’ll talk about it more tomorrow okay? I’ll go get you a blanket and a pillow.” You say softly, moving his legs to get up, an amused look on your face as he huffs and shakes his head.

"I’ll go home. I can stand..." Jungkook slurred drunkenly; attempting to lift himself up off the couch, a snicker leaving your lips at his poor attempt, shaking your head.

"No, you can't dumbass, lay down you can sleep here, I’m not carrying your heavy ass anywhere." You say with a small smile. And for once Jungkook doesn't disagree.

—

"Truly Amazing."

"Thank you.”

"Not that. I was referring to what an idiot you are." You scoff, crossing your arms and glaring at the sheepish-looking Jungkook as he grins at you and places his arm around your shoulder, which you nudge off and roll your eyes at him.

"Ah, but Idiocy is the first step toward Genius!" He remarks proudly. You facepalm and sigh shaking your head. He was unbelievable. You two were completely opposite to each other when it came to common sense.

“Fuck sake, I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten” You grumble looking around, holding your phone up in hopes to get at least a single bar of signal. Jungkook had decided he wanted to take an early morning hike and dragged you along with him. Saying it was good for the body and mind. But being the cocky guy he is, he wanted to stray from the trail and go his own way. Saying he knew where he was going. How wrong he was.

“Ouch, hurtful.” He pouts, tilting his head as he watches you stand on a rock, phone up in your stretched-out hand.

“Good it was meant to hurt bitch now focus!” You hiss, groaning when you don’t get a single ounce of signal. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You knew you should have never left the comfort of your bed but Jungkook can be too convincing and stubborn. You would have ended up here no matter what. You were lost in the middle of nowhere. No way to contact anyone or use your maps. No sign of civilization.

"Sooo what's the plan?" Jungkook says sheepishly, inching closer to the rock you were on. He just had a gut feeling that your clumsy self would take a misstep on it and hurt yourself. So he stayed close. Just in case.

"I don't have a plan." You sigh, pocketing your phone and looking around once more before inevitably giving up. You were gonna find nothing. It was just trees for miles. You were both screwed.

"But you're the smart one here, you must have a plan." He says, grinning nervously as you snap your head over to look at him with a death stare, hands on your hips, foot tapping waiting for him to retract his statement but he didn’t. If looks could kill. He would most certainly be dead.

"Being the 'smart one' does not mean I come with a lifetime supply of plans in my fucking pocket Jeon! You got us into this situation, you figure this one out!" You sneer before sighing and rubbing your temples. You hadn’t meant to snap, you were stressed. The one thing you hated was not being in control of a situation and being lost with no idea where to go was definitely stress-inducing.

“I know, I know I’m sorry, just get down before you hurt yourself and we’ll figure this out together okay?” He sighs and holds his hand out for you to take, staring up at you in awe. He had always thought you were pretty, but stood on the rock, the breeze following through your hair, the early morning sunlight that reflected off the trees, perfectly onto your face, highlighting your features, eyes shining, the pout on your lips. You looked ethereal.

“Fine, yeah okay.” You murmur reaching down for his hand eyes widening as you slip on a ridge of the rock, squeezing your eyes shut waiting for the impact of the hard leave-covered floor, but it never came. All you felt was a warm body, the subtle scent of lavender and chamomile. A scent you recognize as Jungkook. You slowly open your eyes and blink realizing that you were wrapped up in Jungkook’s arms. He had caught you before you could fall.

“I got you, I got you. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He asks worriedly as he places you down, checking you over, his chest practically pressed against yours, pausing as you carefully push him away to create some distance, your cheeks burning as you shake your head, holding your breath. Having him so close made your heart race. You could feel breath fanning over your face.

“I-I’m fine, I’m not hurt. Thanks, Kook.” You whisper, nervously playing with your hands as he sighs in relief and waves you off, oblivious to your nervous reaction to him.

“You’re welcome. Just be careful, Bug, you could have seriously hurt yourself. We gotta find our way back in one piece right?” He smiles, holding your hand beginning to walk in a direction. You had to at least try and find your way back right? You’d get nowhere just in one spot.

“Yeah yeah I know. I’m a danger to myself.” You huff making him laugh and shake his head.

“Damn right you are, what’d you do without me?” He grins and you look at him with an amused look. A look that told him you were about to make a smart remark.

“I wouldn’t be lost in the middle of nowhere that’s for sure. Why did you want to go a hike anyway?” You tease, stepping over a log, watching your every step. You did not want to fall. Not again. He’d never let you live it down. He always reminded you of how clumsy you were, he did not need another reason in one day to remind you.

“I wanted to clear my head, think about the break-up and try and see the full picture you know? See if there was something I genuinely did do wrong. You know maybe I should have just proposed? I know it’s been a few weeks but it just plays on my mind sometimes.” He says shrugging his shoulders, hissing as you smack the back of his head, a glare on your face.

“Fool. You did nothing wrong. You listened to her. Explained why you didn’t want to propose yet and she didn’t like that. She tried to force you Jungkook. Something you weren’t ready for and she didn’t take no for an answer. Why should you have to sacrifice your happiness and feelings for something she wanted right then and there and you didn’t? You never said it wasn’t on the table just that it wasn’t something you personally were ready for at that period of time. You both wanted different things and unfortunately, that’s what happens to a lot of people. Yeah, it’s been a few weeks but that doesn’t mean you still can’t feel shit about it Kook. People all heal differently.” You reassure him as he nods slowly. You were right. He couldn’t force himself to do something he wasn’t ready for. A commitment that honestly, kind of terrified him.

“I just thought I could have done something different, but yeah you’re right, I couldn’t put myself in that situation. I would have really regretted it. I couldn’t have compromised with her. This is why I brought you with me because you always know what to say.” He smiles, pulling you into a side hug as you strolled through the unleveled terrain.

“You know, I thought you’d be a lot harsher about her when I told you about the break-up but you have surprised me. You hated the girl from the minute you met her.” Jungkook chuckles, whining as you poke his side, rolling your eyes.

“I never said I hate her just that I wasn’t keen on her, but I wasn’t gonna be bitch when you were clearly upset. I wasn’t gonna go ‘I told you so’ and invalidate your emotions and feelings, Kook. Yes, I told you I wasn’t keen on her and that there was something about her that I just couldn’t put my finger on. I wasn’t gonna go ‘Don’t date her, I don’t like her.’ I told you that if you’re gonna date her and be serious about it that you just be careful and that you are really sure and happy. I wasn’t gonna try and ruin your happiness because of a feeling I had on her. Your happiness was all that mattered to me.” You explain looking up at him and pouting at the look on his face. You couldn’t tell what it was but it looked sincere. A look you wanted him to have every time he looked at you.

But what you didn’t know was he did look at you with that same look a lot. Awe, care, hope. Love. It was love. Jungkook loved you. More than you could ever imagine. You weren’t just his best friend. You were someone he wanted to call his. Someone he imagined himself with. Someone he definitely wanted to grow old with. Jungkook can’t pinpoint when he started feeling this way for you. But it was definitely sometime in high school. It hurt him every time he’d see you with another guy. The dates you went on but failed. The boyfriends. It all practically killed him.

But he was scared to confess. Scared to ruin your friendship. So he buried them. Tried to forget them and date others but it never felt right. Until he met Hyun-Ae. For a short period of time, she had made him ‘forget’ his feelings for you. But they came back in a blink of an eye when she broke up with him. The night you let him into your apartment and listened to him and validated his emotions. Like right now, you didn’t like Hyun-Ae but just wanted him to be happy so accepted it. ‘Your happiness was all that mattered to me’. Yeah, he was utterly and undoubtedly in love with you and he’d never stop loving you.

But he didn’t know that you loved him unconditionally too. That it also hurt you to see him with other girls that weren’t you, that you were scared to confess to and ruin your friendship. The both of you were so oblivious to your feelings for each other that it was so painful for your friends to watch. But they weren’t going to interfere. If you were going to end up together, it’d happen naturally they told each other. That was four years ago.

“Thanks, Bug. That really does mean a lot. Sorry for bringing you on a hike gone wrong. We should have done something else. Like let loose, we haven’t done that in a while. Other than when I showed up at your apartment but that doesn’t count, I was a mess.” Jungkook laughs, kicking a pebble in his way, jumping as you gasp and stop in your place.

“Oh hey, we made it back out! How’d you know to go this way?” You say enthusiastically bouncing your heels as you realize you had made your way back onto the trail, turning to look at Jungkook, your grin dropping seeing the amused smirk on his face. Oh no.

“What if…I told you that maybe I knew we weren’t lost and I just wanted to prank you?”

“Jeon Jungkook I swear to fucking god I’m gonna kill you!”

In reality, he had no idea where he was going or how he navigated his way back but you didn’t have to know that. He loved to tease you.

—

"Why are we here again?"

"Because you said we needed to let loose the other day, why else would we be here?"

"When I said to let loose I meant in the comforts of our own homes. Not a random club that will end up with us kicked out like usual. We established we do not mix well with other people." Jungkook huffs rolling his eyes before downing the drink he cradled in his hands.

"Well shit dude, how was I supposed to know that? When you say let loose I'm gonna assume you mean in a club. Use specifics next time dumbass." You scoff, flicking his forehead earning a hiss from him, and glare at you, rubbing his forehead, grumbling under his breath.

He was right though, since college you two couldn't be trusted to be in a club without supervision from your friends. The pair of you were partners in crime. It didn't matter what the situation was, you'd always be there for each other. When it came to clubs you'd either be kicked out from dancing on tables or from getting in a fight. It didn't matter, it always happened. It was only a matter of time until you were kicked out.

"Wanna bet on the reason we end up kicked out this time?" Jungkook says in amusement, waving the bartender over to order another drink.

You raise an eyebrow before grinning and shrugging. It really could be anything at this point.

"Hmm, I think it's gonna be a fight. I'm feeling...violent tonight. You gonna have my back?" You tease taking a sip of your drink as he shakes his head.

"You know I always have your back Bug, you're my ride or die." He affirms, patting your bare shoulder before ordering you both another drink. You shudder from the contact of his warm slender hand on your shoulder, placing a hand on your racing heart, taking a deep breath. You hated how he had this effect on you, he was your best friend. You couldn't have him. You'd never have him. He didn't see you how you saw him. Well, so you thought.

"Ditto, Honey Bun, ditto."

"Here, now let's go find somewhere to sit in this god-forsaken place." He groans, handing you your drink before wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you close as he pushes through the waves of bodies to find a seat until he finally finds one and plops down.

"We're so boring. What happened to us two little party animals?" You laugh, nodding your head to the music. Jungkook practically snorts, shaking his head,

"We grew up and got bored of the partying."

You sit in a comforting silence, dancing along to the music and continuing to down drinks to the point where you both could feel the slight buzz of intoxication, confidence, and mischief. You were both beginning to enjoy yourselves, that was until your reason to get kicked out waltzed in. Hyun-Ae was unashamedly hanging off a clearly well-off man's arm, rolling your eyes and nudging Jungkook, shamelessly pointing behind him.

"Hey Kook, looks like your ex moved on pretty quick for someone pressuring you to marry them." You sneer, letting out a laugh of disbelief. You really despised the woman. She used Jungkook purely for her own leisure, she didn't deserve him, he was a gentleman, caring, loyal. You hate how she broke his heart.

Jungkook peers over before looking back at you and shrugs nonchalantly a teasing smile on his face. With the alcohol in his system, he felt like he had the courage of ten men. If he didn't do this now, he never would. He couldn’t carry on and pretend his feelings aren’t there. Like they’d just suddenly disappear.

"Yeah well so have I." He smirks, leaning back in his seat and taking a swig of his drink. You tilt your head in confusion. Your heart sank a little. You hadn't been told that he was interested in someone else. You really needed to get over your feelings for him. You had no chance with him. You were just best friends after all. All you were doing was hurting yourself.

"Oh really? You got proof of that, Honey Bun?" You tease trying to keep your composure, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand, playfully wiggling your eyebrows. He snorts and places his drink down before leaning forward too, licking his lips to wet them, tilting his head, a smug smile on his face before blurting out,

"Well, the proof...would ruin our friendship."

Your breath hitches, your cheeks flushing as you begin to get flustered, your heart racing as you look down to the table to break eye contact with him. He couldn't be insinuating what you thought right? Maybe you were misunderstanding? Right?

He chuckles, a smirk playing on his lips, he could see the doubt and the inner monologue you were practically having as he gently grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him and coos,

"We don't want to ruin it now do we, pretty girl?"

Your heart was racing. Your lips were parted, the words you wanted to say on the tip of your tongue but couldn’t see to vocalize them. You had waited what felt like an eternity for this moment. A moment you had fanaticized for the longest time. But back then they were dreams and this was reality. This was really happening. It was like music to your ears. A rush of adrenaline. You weren’t going to let this moment slip through your fingers. You may never get another chance to do this.

“What if I want to ruin our friendship? What if I want to be more than just your best friend?” You whisper, breath hitching as he tugs your chair closer to him, your hands shaking as you place one on his cheek, closing your eyes as he nudges his nose against yours, foreheads pressed against each other.

“Yeah? You want to be my girl?” He breathes out, lips grazing against yours, his own heart pounding in anticipation. He wanted to so badly claim you as his own. Be able to tell everyone that you were his girl, no one else's. He so badly wanted to feel your lips against his. To have your body against his.

“She’s watching Kook.” You murmur, peering over his shoulder when you got the feeling of someone staring. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes narrowed as she eyed you both angrily. You could see her fists were clenched beside her. She wasn’t impressed.

“So? Let her watch pretty girl, let's give her a show. Let her know who I belong to now.” He smirks and without a moment of hesitation, his lips were against yours. It was nothing like you had imagined it would be. It was even better. It was euphoric. His lips were soft, his lip ring cold in contrast to his warmth. In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. It was bruising, and dizzying. A small moan left your lips as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting it go with a pop, a teasing smirk on his swollen lips, you were sure yours were too. The both of you panting, arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, almost shaking with excitement, you knew where this was going, and you had never wanted it more. He opens his mouth to speak but a figure towering over you halts his actions, the both of you looking up and sighing seeing the very irritated Hyun-Ae. Yeah, this was it, you were about to get kicked out.

“Ah Hyun-Ae what an unpleasant surprise, how can we help you on this fine night?” You smile fakely leaning back in your seat in amusement waiting to hear her spew nonsense.

“So this is who you downgraded to? You skanky ‘best friend’, I always knew she wanted to get her grubby hands on you.” She seethes crossing her arms. Jungkook rolls his eyes, now he can see why you disliked her.

“I’m too sober for this bullshit…” You mumble to yourself, her voice practically causing you a headache.

“I think I got an upgrade thank you very much. She’s far more of a better person than you.” Jungkook snarks, glaring at his ex-girlfriend.

“I see you had downgrade though, you know for a bitch wanting to force him to marry her, you sure have moved on quickly, very materialistic aren’t you? Going for the rich guys, I think all you want is the lavish life, the money, not the love and comfort.” You say in amusement, a harsh grin on your lips as she gasps and retracts slightly at your insult.

“Why you vile, piece of-”

“Woah woah, I'm sensing…some hostility. Maybe you should take up meditation?” You say sweetly only angering the woman more and bringing you more entertainment.

“I could never stand you!” She exclaims making you laugh and stand up so you were level with her, tilting your head at her,

“Then sit down no one asked you to stand. You know, if there was a prize for having the world's most punchable face, I'm sure you'd win." You sneer, watching as she raises her hand to slap you but it never reaches you, thanks to Jungkook’s quick reflexes grabbing her wrist.

“I think that’s enough. Hyun-Ae leave us alone. We’re over. You don’t get to criticize me for who I date when you are seeing some stuck-up, self-absorbed man. I mean look, he doesn’t even care that you’ve wandered off. Hope you become a better person. Now excuse us, we have something much more fun to do.” Jungkook huffs, letting go of her wrist before tugging you out of the club. He needed to get out of here.

“How do you always end up with the psychos?” You laugh as you both climb into a cab, a noise of surprise leaving your lips as he pulls you close to him, a playful smile on his lips,

“Are you insinuating that you’re psycho too pretty girl?”

“I never denied it, Honey Bun. You should know that I can be a bit psycho by now.” You tease and press your lips onto his, his tongue swirling with yours, hand in your hair to keep you close. As soon as you reached your apartment things got intense. In a split second his touch awakened every nerve in your body and brain, electrifying them. It's the anticipation of being together in a way that's more than words, in a way that's so completely tangible. You both barely make it to the bedroom, hands trying to touch every bit of each others body, clothes being thrown all over the floor, the only things left on your body was your bra and pants and Jungkook in his boxers. Jungkook pulls away from the kiss to admire you, eyes filled with love and lust.

In the room that is twilight and shadow Jungkook stands close enough for you to breathe in his scent. His arms wrap around your back and in one gentle pull your skin touches. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. Then his hand moves down your cheekbones to your lips. That's when the kissing starts again and you start to move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. With a laugh he lifts you right off your feet, carrying you towards the bed, letting you fall with a soft bounce on the mattress. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. Then he's all business, undoing your jeans, pulling them off, kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always just a little higher than the kisses. You feel your back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. Your head rocks back against the pillow as he does, the first moan escaping your lips.

But as quick as it happened his fingers were gone, a teasing smile on his face, “You think I’d give you everything you want so quickly? No way baby, you need to use your big girl words. Talk to me.”

“Jungkook you cannot be serious, I do not do teasing, you better do something quick.” You groan, glaring at his laugh before flipping the two of you over so that you were on top.

“Shit, pretty girl,” he hisses as you roll your hips, grinding your core against his. He can feel how wet you are through where your cunt drags against his underwear soaking them. You were burning from arousal and anticipation, gasping as he flips you back over.

“I want to taste you. Can I?”

The question makes your legs shiver and you nod. He nudges your legs open with his knee, hands pressing into the mattress beside your shoulder and head locking you in under his form. He leans down and kisses you with the same urgency he had in the cab. Your head swims with excitement and you can feel yourself growing more wet as you feel his toned stomach press to yours. A moan pushes its way out of you and into his mouth as you feel his nipples graze yours.

“Fuck.”

He smirks into the kiss before he breaks it and then he’s kissing your cheek, jaw, neck, clavicle, between your breasts and then your nipple is in his mouth and you arch into it as his tongue swirls and his lips encase and tug.

“Jungkook —” you moan.

He looks up at you, his bangs obscuring his vision but he does nothing except continue his way down your body. His hands following. You’ve never felt so safe, so secure, and so sexy under a man before. Then suddenly he’s standing again, his hands on your thighs and he tugs you down with a force that surprises you. Your eyes wide meet his, equally as wide and dark. He smiles and shakes his head, looking down at your legs.

“What?” you ask and he looks back up at you.

“You’re just fucking beautiful.” he rasps, taking in every inch of your body as if he’d forget what it looked like.

“Kiss me?”

He nods but instead of crawling back up your body to meet your lips, he bends down and kisses your stomach.You close your eyes and slip your hand into his hair and tugging. He moans against your skin and your breath hitches.Your hips twitch as he kisses your hipbone and then licks your skin, biting and marking it, he wanted to claim you, paint you in arrays of purple and red bruised flowers. You lift yourself up and watch him as he shifts down, his hand sliding down following the movement of your thigh.

“Oh fuck” you breathe out surprised as you feel his index finger slip down your clit and between your folds.

“You’re going to taste so good, I just know it,” he says as he gathers some of your arousal on his finger and then looks up at you and licks. His eyes roll back and close as he moans deep,

“Fuck, I knew it.”

You watch him go again but this time you feel his finger press into you, you gasp, hips moving. He leans in and presses the tip of his nose to your clit and licks, lapping up your arousal like a starved man. Your wanton moan fills the room and your hands tighten around his hair instinctively needing to keep him there and to stay there. His tongue works along with his finger for a few moments and then his finger is gone only to be replaced by his tongue. Pushing into you, penetrating you and you practically go limp, a choked moan leaving your mouth as his thumb returns and applies pressure to your clit. You could have came right then and there.

“Jungkook if you don’t stop I’m gonna come.” You pant and he pulls away your arousal glistening on his lips, shuddering as he licks his lips not wanting to waste a single drop of your slick. Leaning back the bulge in his underwear evident of his painful boner. You kneel on your shaking legs, keeping your eyes locked on his as you press wet kisses to his stomach moving lower and lower, his breath getting heavy, his hands gently caressing your skin, your fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers before tugging them down his length springing free, he kicks them off and you stare in awe before starting your teasing, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“Pretty girl, don’t fucking tease, you’ll get a punishment for it.” He husked, glaring at the playful smile on your face.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end is it baby?” You coo, hand moving off his length, a growl leaving his mouth, placing a hand in your hair opening his mouth to talk but a choked moan leaves his mouth as you swipe your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum.

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed.

“Pretty girl, oh fuck…” He groans, strangled, panting and head rocking back, his adams apple bobbing in his throat.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans,

“Doing such a good job my pretty girl, fuck your mouth is incredible babygirl.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one, eager to impress him more, the praises causing your arousal to drip. Jungkook’s hand in your hair is tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks, his abdomen tightening euporhically, close to his release. This was quickest he’s ever needed to cum before from a blowjob.

“Y/N, Y/N stop, our first time is not gonna have me, cumming in your mouth, I wanna be inside you, fuck do you have condoms?” He rasps as he gently pulls you away, groaning as you shake your head.

“No I have the coil and I’m clean you?” You pant, lips swollen and red, leaning your face into his touch as he strokes your cheek, nodding and gulping. Fuck he doesn’t think he’s going to last long going in raw.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah I am, shit baby, I might not last long.” He grunts, softly pushing you back, grinning as you squeal when he flips you over, pulling your ass up and running his hand over your cheek before a smack echoes in the room and a stinging sensation is spreading over your ass, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

“Such a perfect ass, wanna mark it all up with my handprint but we can do that another day, right now I need to be inside you before I die.” He groans, aligning his length with your entrance, Your whole body shuddering as he presses into you for the first time. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom to regain his composure. It was like you were made for each other, the way your bodies moulded together perfectly. You were addicted already.

He drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled before. You were wrecked for any other man, not that you wanted anyone else.

“Oh fuck Kookie, feels so fucking good, don’t stop.” You babble, a complete mess as he picks gains rhythm, picking up his pace and ruthlessly pounding into you, your fists tight in the sheets, your head dropping muffling your moans, gasping as one of his hands grabs your hair and pulls you up, growling,

“Don’t you fucking dare hide those pretty moans. I wanna hear every single one. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good, who you belong to, do you understand pretty girl?”

“Yes! Yes I understand! Jungkook fuck!” You practically scream out, eyes rolling back, the pleasure so intense, your body felt like it was on fire.

He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your core, watching himself disappear into you with each thrust, moans leaving his throat. You loved how vocal he was. It excited you more, your pride soaring that you were able to make him feel good too. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.

“Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?” He rasps

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight.

“Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”

He grabs the hair at the back of your head again and pulls it back, your back pressed to his chest as he fucks up into you, keeping your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter, a silent scream leaving your lips as he reaches deeper into you from the new position,

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours baby.”

Jungkook is so rough you loved it, his grip on your waist painfully tight that you knew it would leave marks.You felt so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs tingling from adrenaline. Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking. He knew you were close and so was he, his stomach so tight, desperate for his release, but he wouldn’t come. Not yet. He needed to make sure you came first. Your pleasure came first to him.

“You gonna come pretty girl? I want you to come all over me, be a good girl and come.” He coos darkly into your ear, his hand slipping between your legs, his pace never faltering. His touch is gentle, but it’s enough to have your vision burning white, your blood roaring, your ears ringing as you come. You hold him tight, your hand digging into his hair as you splutter and pant, your head laying back on his shoulder, feeling his chest vibrate from his husky groans and growls as he comes too, fucking you both through your orgasms, filling you up with his cum.

The room is filled with your pants and heavy breathing as you both come down from your orgasm, nothing but gentle touches shared between you both to keep you both grounded, a gasp leaving you both as Jungkook gently slips out of you and guiding you to lay down before flopping down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

“You still with me, Bug?” Jungkook chuckles tiredly, seeing the fucked out look in your eyes, stroking hair back from your face and peppering kisses to your face moving his hand to stroke up and down your spine.

“Mhmm, still here, just regrouping, Honey Bun.” You whisper, a tired smile on your face. You were in sheer bliss, pure happiness. You finally got the guy. A man you loved so dearly for years.

“That’s good. You did so good pretty girl. Such a good girl for me. I love you.” He utters, nuzzling his nose against yours, grinning as you pout your lips for a kiss, giggling as he presses multiple pecks onto them.

“I love you too. That was everything and more than I could have ever imagined.” You sigh, nuzzling your head into his chest, a yawn leaving your lips as he kisses the top of your head.

“That’s good to hear. I’m so glad I get to call you mine finally, I’ve loved you for so long. I couldn’t hide it no more.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, I’ve loved you since fucking high school. It was killing me.” You laugh, stopping when he tenses and sits up causing you to sit up as well.

“Wait…you’ve loved me since high school?” He says in shock, cursing at himself as you nod slowly and frown.

“Yeah why? What’s wrong with that?” You say hesitantly, slightly amused as he groans and face palms. Yeah you two really were that oblivious.

“I’ve loved you since high school too…” He muffles out and your eyes widen in realization. You felt like an idiot. He felt like an idiot.

“Wait so that means-”

“Yeah we could have been together a long time ago if we weren’t so dumb.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

Guys I'm so sorry for how late this is, I am a dumbass and totally forgot to switch from draft to post so I thought I had posted this ages ago, I'm so dumb so I sincerely apologize for making you guys wait and I hope you guys enjoyed 😅♥

Taglist

@sophiaj650 @bbgniecyy @littlebaby-bunbun @driftapart @kalala22 @pb-n-juju @sugarrush-blush @cryingpages @avadakadabra93 @jeongukkieeeeeeee @withluvjm @bangtans-momma @wobblewobble822 @jkslaugh97 @sharkipoonis @notchia @hrndez2008 @kiylasstuff @poopiedookieballz @hoseokteardrop

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

2K notes · View notes

xervn · 2 months

Text

like a french girl 🎨

part 2 - like a | art major ellie x dance major reader

first chapter | next chapter

ao3

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you

18+ MDNI | 3.7k words | tags; college au, pining, still sfw for now, texting, no use of y/n, not proofread

a/n: if you're not imagining the prof as nick offerman you're not doing it right.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The song finally ends and all the other dancers in the studio scatter, just as breathless and exhausted as you are, leaving the room reeking with sweat and the remnants of unbridled passion.

You try to steady your breathing, leaning forward with a hand bracing your thigh, fanning yourself off by pulling at the collar of your tee. Today’s practice was more exerting than usual, especially since you were the one leading it.

You might’ve showed off a little because you overheard some of your classmates undermining your talent; claiming they could do your own choreo better than you can. It wasn’t like what they said bothered you, however, you needed to set the record straight.

You’ve always been an amazing dancer, you have the awards, the scholarships to prove it. You’ve scraped your knees bloody to get to this point in your life. You weren’t gonna let a few shit talkers ruin a great thing. So, yeah, you’re absolutely winded because you wanted to prove a point, but you don’t regret a second of it. The looks on their faces was enough to clear any doubts for the rest of the year, for sure.

You drag your feet over to your stuff huddled in a corner, dodging past everyone else in a rush to leave. You pick up your water flask, taking a much needed chug. Mid-drink, you hear the doors of the now empty studio swing open and you swivel around only to see Dina in her black leotard, clutching her bag on her shoulder as she jogs towards you with a suspiciously wide smile.

“Hey, D. You don’t look like you want anything at all.” You say sarcastically, scoffing as you set your bottle down.

“Oh, come on! I can’t see my best friend?” Dina asks, resting her hands on her hips. All you can do is stare at her with an unmoving expression of doubt, folding your arms with a perked brow.

“My best-est friend in the whole world. Ever.” Dina adds on.

You don’t think Dina could make it any more obvious so you decided to wrap it up yourself. “Dina, what is it? I swear to god if you say Jesse…”

The expression on Dina’s face pointed in every direction that it’d be about him. You groan, amazed that you’re having this conversation again. She’s been pestering you for weeks now about meeting this “amazing” guy she’s been recently dating. She insisted that he’d be like another gal pal, but obviously you doubted that. You’re sure he’s as great as Dina says, but you find it awkward to meet him like that anyways.

“Just hear me out!” Dina practically begs, clasping her hands together and everything.

“Dina— I love you, but I don’t wanna be a third wheel for an hour.”

Her wide grin returns, looking oddly ecstatic to hear you bring that up. “Okay, well, what if I told you that you won’t?”

You already told yourself you made up your mind the minute this conversation started, but you gesture for her to continue anyway.

Dina’s face lights up as she goes on, “Jesse’s going to bring his friend too, then it’ll be the four of us!”

You’re not sure how to feel, it does cancel out the one annoyance you had, but now it sounds like a straight double date. The thought alone makes you cringe a bit.

Dina can tell, rolling her eyes before speaking, “His friend’s a girl, and she’s cool.”

You just silently make out an ‘oh’ and Dina snorts at your expression. Well, now there’s nothing keeping you from going, but you don’t feel like letting Dina have this one that easily, so you intensely rub your chin as if there’s something else to be considered.

“I’ll buy you food! Cinnamon rolls!” Dina exclaims with a hint of desperation. You giggle and stop the act, finally giving Dina a smile and a nod. She’s already pulling you in for a sappy hug and you return it with an eye roll, making sure she doesn’t go too crazy now that she’s finally convinced you.

“So, when are we doing that?” You ask.

“Today. You're so sweaty, gross.”

“Rude— Today?!”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

After a nice shower and a trip to a small on-campus bakery, it was time to go meet Jesse and his friend with Dina. Just to make conversation, you tell Dina about your embarrassing encounter last night as you two walk around campus.

“You mooned a stranger?! Listen, when I said you should hook up with someone while I was gone, I meant through a party or an app. Not the window!” Dina exclaims, not even attempting to hide the amusement in her voice.

Honestly, you were amused by the situation too, it was hard not to be. “Shhh… I didn’t moon her, she just happened to be there. Plus, my ass was mostly covered.” You reply with a playful grin before biting into your promised cinnamon roll. You didn’t really have anything to be embarrassed about, either way it’s an emotion you deal with often. First of all, you’re a dancer; you’ve tripped during a routine before, danced a few humiliating moves. It’s a part of the process. Second of all, your ass is fucking great and we’re ending on that note.

Dina tsks and shakes her head at you in pretend disappointment. Unable to take her seriously, you dissolve into laughter.

You two walk across the courtyard and into the school commons; a tall and open building, with the walls of it being large windows. For the time of day, it wasn’t that busy. You decide to scope out the small crowd, and play a little game with yourself to see if you can find out who Dina’s man is before she tells you.

Not him. Definitely not him. Maybe him? Nah. Who is that?

“Over there!” Dina taps your shoulder excitedly and points in the distance, but you were already looking that way.

There was a girl, maybe an inch taller than you in a black, patch-covered varsity jacket that definitely didn’t fit her, facing a taller guy that looked exactly like Dina’s type. You weren’t positive why you were drawn that direction, all you knew was that there was something vaguely familiar about that girl. You tried to put the pieces together, but you gave up not even two thoughts later; shrugging it off.

The guy looks towards you and Dina, smiling brightly as he beckons you two over. Dina links arms with you and drags you along before you can even acknowledge it. As you two start approaching, the mystery girl finally turns around and offers a small smile to Dina, only for it to drop the second she lays eyes on you.

Your eyes lock on hers and you’re absolutely mortified. It was definitely that girl. Y’know, the one you saw through your window? That girl. Even if you didn’t see her all that well last night, the struck look on her face gave her away. This funny situation was getting less and less fucking funny as you and Dina stride closer. The panic starts to override your sensory abilities, the unusual feeling etching into your thoughts. Maybe you should just own it? Pretend you don’t remember? Should you run away? You think you should—

“— meet Jesse!” Dina says, looking at you expectantly. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice you stopped walking. Now the girl is way closer than she was last night. You could keel over and die now, really.

It’s not like you’ll see her again. You wish you could turn back time and slap yourself for jinxing you like that. You glimpse up at her, and, fuck, she was looking back at you. You guys needed to stop doing that. Even worse, she’s just as hot as you were hoping she wasn’t. The hair, the outfit, the decorated carabiner hanging off the loop of her jeans? She’s a fucking lesbian wet dream.

You whip your head away, and unbeknownst to you, she’s still staring; gawking, even.

For Ellie, ever since you walked up, all that’s been going through her head was, ’I wanna draw her’ over and over again. Seeing you up close was even better than she could’ve ever imagined. Your… everything was better than she imagined. She initially locked eyes on you when you were still passing the courtyard and she was in awe of that smile of yours. She was obsessed with how you laughed, how you threw your head back as you did. For a moment, she wondered what was funny. For a moment, she thought about what she’d give to hear it. She had to look away and face Jesse so her whole body didn’t turn red from just watching you.

She only understood the gravity of the situation when you finally approached. What were the chances you were Dina’s friend? You were really in front of her now, an arm distance away. She has literally never been happier to go out before. She was genuinely glad Jesse dragged her out here for once.

For as long as she could, she admired you; already color-matching the shade of your skin, your eyes. Appreciating the plumpness of your lips, how expertly your gloss spread across them. She wants to appreciate more of you, but from the way you looked away from her, she worries you might think she’s a pervert and honestly, you’d be well within your rights to think so.

Ellie catches her stare, dipping her attention onto her feet instead. You catch the sheepish action in the corner of your eye and it automatically tells you everything you need to know. If she hadn’t seen anything, she wouldn’t be acting like that, right? Let alone remember you. You wish you weren’t agonizing over this, catching these little traits was only making things worse.

It’s painful; the situation. The whole thing didn’t even cross your mind until recently. You can’t make eye contact with anyone in front of you anymore, so you nervously say hello along with your name while looking out of one of the several windows.

Dina forces a smile, since she already introduced you herself, giving you a quick ‘what the fuck’ look on her face before turning back to Jesse who still hasn’t caught a whiff of the tension. Your behavior was incomprehensible. You’ve never acted this way around new people. The whole reason Dina begged you to come was because you were so personable, so you can only imagine her confusion now.

Jesse and Dina exchange looks before Dina attempts to continue the convo. “So, Ellie, what’s your major again?” Ellie. Now the (extremely good-looking) face has a name, great.

“Uh, drawing. Art.” Ellie says, awkwardly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but you. You were making it awkward, she was making it awkward, and all for different reasons.

Dina nods along to Ellie before saying, “Oh, really? Didn’t think you guys left your rooms.” Dina teases, slow-turning to Jesse who already has a fist bump waiting for her.

Ellie shakes her head with half a smile. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Yeah, I guess I needed some sunlight.”

“Yeah, right. I had to bribe you out with a DC comic.” Jesse chirps in, his tone taking a dramatically repulsed turn.

Ellie immediately punches him in the arm, “You haven’t even read the comics, asshole.”

Jesse’s hand shoots up to soothe the spot as he laughs.

“Well… I think DC is better than Marvel if you ignore the movies.” You spit out and Jesse and Dina are immediately groaning at your comment. The only reason you said anything was because you felt inclined to take Ellie’s side since they were ganging up on her. Not to mention you might’ve traumatized her, so you might as well attempt to make buddy-buddy. You weren’t lying though, you read enough comics in middle school to know; even if your appearance and style might’ve indicated otherwise.

Ellie teeters at the side, not expecting you to speak at all, let alone take her side. She didn’t think she deserved to hear you speak more than she has already, but here you were, making her blush over a silly shared interest.

Ellie stuffs her hands into her jacket’s pockets, twisting her lips before gaining the courage to speak to you. “That’s because it is. They haven’t read Sandman yet.”

“Oh, shit. Sandman was really good! Death was definitely my gay awakening now that I’m thinking about it.” You respond, glancing off as you dwell back on it.

Ellie definitely blacked out for a moment after hearing “gay” and “awakening” leave your mouth in the same sentence. Now there’s a part of her wondering if she has a chance with you.

She doesn’t say anything, she can’t say anything since she doesn’t trust her voice. You can’t tell if she’s super awkward or homophobic, but she doesn’t look like the latter. She just gulps loudly and you take note of… this whole interaction and store it in your brain for a later date, like a sleepless night.

With the sudden silence befalling, you both look over to see that Dina and Jesse are still passionately ranting and raving about how trash DC is, so passionately they look like they might kiss about it. Like, their faces are inches away from each other. You and Ellie are absolutely baffled at how this is even possible. They’re talking about superheroes. Superheroes! The sight makes you wanna hurl. You scowl and look elsewhere, catching Ellie grimacing in the process.

Her brows are furrowed, lip upturned, and her nose is slightly scrunched up to the point where she kinda resembles a squirrel. You snort to yourself at the comparison. Okay, she’s adorable, so it took everything in you to contain your laughter. Obviously, you did a poor job since Jesse and Dina turn to your stifled giggling, following your eyes to see a plainly disgusted Ellie judging them.

They get flustered, shyly laughing it off while Ellie pretends to scold them. “Welcome back. Now cut it out.”

Ellie turns to you with a surprisingly bewitching smile that catches you way off guard, and mouths out ‘gross’ while stealing a glance at the couple.

“Pfft, I think it might be time to change topics.” You say, biting back the smile forming on your lips. Ellie is unintentionally endearing, you can tell because, well, she’s growing on you. Maybe you’ve been overthinking the whole thing? From the looks of it, she might’ve just needed to warm up to you. You like that conclusion much more than anything else. Anything else being a possibly unflattering angle of your ass cheeks.

Dina chuckles before nodding, “Okay, well,” Dina puts a hand on your shoulder and looks between Jesse and Ellie, “She’s a dance major too. The trendy kind.”

“Trendy kind?” Ellie asks, focusing on you as she waits for an answer.

You roll your eyes at Dina for the silly description and fixate back on Ellie, finding yourself unusually nervous under her stare. “I’m focusing on commercial dance choreography. For singers, concerts, things like that.”

“She also did ballet for ages.” Dina chimes in. You nod reluctantly, since it was a long time ago, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still use those skills.

“Oh, that explains it.” Ellie says, looking directly at you, clearly without a thought. She doesn’t mean anything bad by it, it just explains why she was weirdly infatuated with your back; your posture. Either way, that was supposed to stay in her head and not for you to hear.

You raise a brow, barely tilting your head to the side as you ask, “Explains what?”

You hold your eye contact with Ellie this time, silently waiting for an answer.

“Oh— err—“ Ellie stammers. She has no idea how to save herself. Even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d be able to say it when you’re looking at her like that. Looking up at her quizzically, slightly pouting out your full bottom lip. You’re a bit intimidating, you’ve always been a bit intimidating to everyone. However, Ellie finds herself oddly attracted at the same time and it’s really fucking with her brain. You aren’t even trying to be threatening though, you only want to know what she thinks of you. For no particular reason.

Ellie, flustered beyond comprehension, can only shrug and manage out, “Uh, nothing? I guess, um, that’s how you two met?”

You calm your expression, afraid Ellie might melt if you put any more heat on her and for the record, she would’ve, but not for what you think. You couldn’t read her at all and it made you wanna rip your hair out.

You end up giving her a small nod while a trace of curiosity lingers on your face.

Coincidentally, Ellie can’t read you either. Do you know she was the one “creeping” on you last night? If you don’t, then maybe all hope isn’t lost for her. But, of course, she can’t fucking tell. One second you’re looking at her like she’s a ghost, the next you’re giggling at all her jokes. But she’s not an idiot, she knows that as long as she doesn’t completely scare you off; she can complete her final. The only question from here is if she’ll ever gain the courage to ask you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The answer to that is no. No, no, no. You’ve been integrated into Ellie’s life for weeks now. Although it hasn’t been daily you always show up at least twice a week, over three when she’s lucky. It’s been weeks and she still can’t ask you.

In her defense, you guys are never alone. You haven’t even walked by Ellie since the dance wing and art wing are nowhere near each other. You’re always with Dina, she’s always with Jesse. All four of you occasionally meet up for lunch, or spot each other at student events and parties. Never just you and her. Ellie has tried to rehearse just asking you casually with Dina and Jesse around, but that sounds like a fuckin’ humiliation ritual. Imagining you saying “ew, no” or bringing up how she was ogling you through your window in front of them.

It’s not like you’ve been giving her the impression that you would. It’s actually far from that. You’re a walking ray of sunshine. You always, and I mean, always say hi to her first. Ellie might be a little nuts, considering it’s only between her and Jesse, but she swears you do. Sometimes, you even avoid him to get to her first and she thinks it’s the cutest damn thing ever, but as far as she knows, that’s just her imagination playing a sick prank on her delusion.

Good news is that her work has improved since she still gets to see you often. She steals glances at you, taking mental pictures of you whenever she can. If someone told her to draw you eating a damn french fry, she’d be able to do it perfectly.

Her professor leaves less marks on her work than usual, and with finals rapidly approaching, Ellie thinks this is the best she’ll ever be able to do. It’s way better than before and the chances of you modeling for her are slim to none, so she’s trying to convince herself she’s perfectly fine with wrapping it up here. Acting like it doesn’t eat away at her to not be able to draw your full body, all its perfections and imperfections.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You’re chatting with some friends as you gather your stuff up to leave, when your professor calls out your name. Your head shoots up in that direction and you quickly excuse yourself as you walk over to a scruffy looking older man shuffling around paperwork.

“Yes?” You stand neutrally at his desk, completely unaware of what he has to say to you.

“You’re failing. Failing horrendously,” He shifts in his seat to look at you better, “You know you are human right? You labeled the rectus femoris the tibialis anterior for fuck’s sake.”

The… what? You had absolutely no idea you were failing and no idea what he was saying. Yeah, you spent zero time studying, but it’s human anatomy. It’s just a stupid mandatory course. The classes with actual dancing are what you put your time and effort into. What type of asshole teaches a science course at an arts school, then fails the students? Whatever.

You bite your tongue before speaking, forcing a faint smile. “Oh, well, can I make up the grade…?”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose before pulling out your paper from the stack and in front of you. “You’re not understanding, out of 640 muscles in the human body you got one correct. The pectoralis major.”

Honestly, you have no words. Seeing the paper in front of you was pretty humbling.

He laces his fingers as he continues to gruffly speak, “I don’t know if it’s because you’re gay or something and the only thing you can identify are boobs, but this is an easy grade. You had to get at least 200 correct to pass.”

Did he just? Your jaw dropped ages ago, and you start to say something but he immediately cuts you off. “I don’t wanna hear it, take your paper. Study, and I’ll let you retake it. Do not make me have to fail you.”

You purse your lips, conflicted with how he called you out and how he’s giving you a redo. You just snatch the paper and storm out of the classroom.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

dina: LMFAOOO

you: its not fucking funny

dina: is it becus ur gay or something

you: STFU!!!!

you: what do i do ffs

you: finals week is coming up soon and im stupid

dina: you shouldve taken the course with me last semester

you: help me study

dina: foh i barely passed

you: 😭😭😭im so screwed

dina: no ur not

dina: don’t worry

dina: ask ellie

Ask Ellie? Your thumbs shake over your screen. How could you ask Ellie? The amount of strength it takes to talk to her in real life without turning into putty is insane. You guys don’t even cross paths enough for you to comfortably ask for a favor, but you really need to pass this class. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst to finally talk to her one on one... hang out with her more… see her more… Fuck it.

you: what’s her number?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

what's this? click!

tag list: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee

a/n: marvel solos but i think ellie would love dc

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian #ᝰ like a french girl

284 notes · View notes