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lilacgaby · 8 months ago

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‧₊˚truth bomb!‧₊˚

getting hit by a truth quirk? not so fun. dealing with it while having a huge crush on bakugo katsuki? even worse.

- ღpairing. 3rdyear!katsuki x reader. tags. friends to lovers, truth telling quirk, wingmen, kissing scenes, confessions, fighting, miscommunication trope, U-A girls love you, she/her pronoun use, fem!reader, earthquirk!reader. wc. 8k

- ღnote. i win the slowest writer ever award! anyways, i wrote this in chapter form here, this is a rework of my first work ever, and i completely changed the plot for anyone who might have read itt

this wasn't how your mission was supposed to go.

the thought ran through your head as you resisted the urge to bang your head against the concrete. that fate would probably be better than whatever you'd face having to confess, out of your will, to your longtime crush, katsuki.

but, the day started out normal enough. you were on a patrol, randomly scheduled as all your patrols usually were because of your mentor, mirko. she lacked the traditional agency and took missions as she pleased, which meant you'd usually be along for the ride.

which entailed things like this, walking boredly along the streets, running your fingers along metal pipes, trying to find something- anything to quench your eternal boredom.

it didn't work though.

you finally groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked at mirko, who seemed oddly determined. “we've been walking in this place for like– what? an hour? it's so boring!” you kicked a rock, making it clash against a random trash can.

“a deserted town is perfect, it's exactly what an up and coming villain group would want to start up. think before you speak for once.” she chided, not even looking over at you as she continued walking forth. “anyways, you should be able to feel it, can't you? they're close.”

sure enough, you could. the vibrations of their movement, the reverberation of their voices bouncing off the walls of the random alleyway of where you two stood felt as you focused your stance.

they were close. you sighed, though now of relief that you'd finally be able to beat them and get out of here as soon as you can, you stretched your hands and fingers, getting ready to manipulate the ground below you. “well then what are you waiting for? let's go!”

mirko nodded, and wordlessly followed you as you two positioned yourselves on a rooftop above the rowdy group of villains. they were laughing heartily, seemingly unaware and full of glee as they continued down the city streets. the sun was coming down, golden sunlight illuminating your figure as you closed your eyes and focused in on their positions, trusting your quirk more than your vision.

you stomped lightly and closed your eyes, feeling their positions out perfectly, as well as mirko’s readied stance beside you. nobody was around for miles, on the ground at least, so you focused in to hear their words.

mocking cries of innocent civilians left the mouth of the biggest one. “oh, please don't hurt me!” he cried, a fake squeaky voice cut off by his laughter. “oh man, what a pathetic excuse for a human.”

“fleeting the town completely in what? two days? we're the shit man.” another replied, high-fiving amongst themselves as they snickered and giggled.

they held bags of money and prized belongings in their grasps, smirks and sneers as they lugged them down the city. the one they seemed to think they ‘owned’ now that the civilians fled to safety. one that they were making a mess of.

you felt mirko’s figure, the growing hostility in her stance. the balling of her fist and her legs that were ready to pounce at any given moment.

“i'm all clear.” you whispered. “on your call, i'm ready.”

you could even feel the twitch of her ears, the wind blowing a spare leaf of the ground, but most importantly,

you felt the millisecond where she lowered to jump.

in response you launched the ground underneath you with a flick of the hand, landing yourself perfectly next to mirko. she held out a fist to the group, who jumped at the sight of you two.

“listen up losers!” she began, pointing a daunting finger at the biggest of the group, who had a literal screw growing out the base of his neck. a shiver went down your spine at the sight. “you can beg for forgiveness now, or later! which is it?”

a moment of silence passed, before one of them declared, “how about never? attack!”

half of the group focused on mirko, while the others were now facing you. you sighed, fixing yourself in a relaxed stance, before swiftly punching up to launch chucks of rock and steel out of the ground, into the bodies of the offending men coming towards you.

a few of them dodged, making you repeat the same attack again, since you really didn't feel like going full strength for villains at this level. your eyebrows furrowed as you realized one of them had taken the opportunity to make a break for it, but ignored it for now as the final guy stood against you.

mirko stole your spotlight though, landing a kick in his hand that rendered him unconscious.

“hey. i called dibs.” you whined, before walking over to her. “alls fair in love and war.” she said, before pointing to the almost comically large bags of money and jewelry. “we need to clean these up and get these guys locked up. round up the bags and i'll get the corpses– uh. bodies.”

with a reassuring smirk, she threw around the bodies into a pile, making you wince at the sound of their groans. you went to move all the money and things into an area for the collection agency.

you moved a bag or two, onto your third bag when a sound was suddenly heard behind you. “freeze.”

an unconfident, shaky, and out of breath voice filled your ears. you froze, not knowing who it was.

“n-now turn around. slowly.” he ordered. you did as he said, noting that his hand was pointing towards you in a handgun motion. the tips of his fingers were glowing a strange light green color. “o-okay. you’re gonna leave all the money there, just for me. okay lady?”

you shrugged, looking back at your work. “i mean, that was the plan anyways. a collection agency is gonna come for you and your friends soo–.”

“no, they're not.” he cut you off with a snarl. “i don't think i gave you permission to talk.”

“but you're still talking to me anyways!”

“why you– teenage brats are the worst. i tried not to kill kids, but you're annoying.” the green light emitted even brighter.

“bye.” the ray was about to shoot at you. you didn't have time to block, but mirko last minute shoved the guy to the ground.

his hand still managed a shot, though with his arm up in the air, it moved from being aimed to your heart, to..

shooting towards your mouth.

you didn't dodge in time, not expecting to get shot in your mouth of all places.

it didn't hurt, but it did feel tingly. the guy was slammed to the ground, his face flat with the floor as your hands shot up to feel the skin around your mouth.

you were.. fine?

“hey!” mirko cut off your thoughts. “you okay? what did he do to you? fuck i should've been quicker.”

“i'm fine. honestly you should have been quicker, i was really stalling here.”

“oh.. well im glad to hear you're fine at least.”

“you heard that??” you were shocked to hear her response, you only meant to say that mentally. you really were just going to say it was fine like always, so why..

why wasn't your mouth listening to you?

“no. like you don't understand mirko, i didn't mean to say that-”

“we all slip up sometimes.”

“no. like, it left my mouth before i realized it.”

her eyes widened, before thumping on the guys head below her. “hey you. what exactly did you do to her? huh?”

at no response, she wacked him against the ground again. “hellooo? i'll do it as many times as i need to-”

“no! please, fine fuck- i'll tell you!”

the collection agency finally was heard in the distance. mirko glared. “talk. fast.”

“okay, okay!” the man was once again shaking. “my quirk is enhancements, but I control how exactly it enhances the body–”

“i didn't ask for a life story. get to the point.”

“well! i wanted to aim for the heart and enhance heart rate, which would of killed her! but– um. i accident aimed for her mouth, and enhanced.. honesty.”

“i see. for how long will it be?”

“uh.. a week i think.”

“huh, why would you become a villain with a quirk like yours anyways? final question before you're shipped off to jail.”

“well, i wanted to bring out the best in the worst, to show that even we villains can triumph!”

“..okay.” she left him on the ground and walked away with you by her side. you were heading back to the U-A dorms to drop you off.

“so, you can't lie to me, huh?”

“nope.” your answer left you before you could process it, like a mental disconnection between your actions. “don't do that, it isn't funny!”

she raised her hands up defensively. “okay, okay. i won't.”

…

“so am i your favorite hero or what?”

“yes.”

“really? since when?” she chided.

“since your debut, i was a hardcore fan for a long time.”

“was?”

“learning the real you killed the rose-tint in my glasses.”

“oh..” she put a hand over her heart. “ouch?”

“you wanted the truth.” you sneered. which wasn't really the right choice at this point, since she took that as liberty to start questioning your every move.

the worst 20 questions of your life was played as you walked home, your legs burning with ache of exhaustion was nothing over the mental anguish of being around a happy-go-lucky mirko.

you finally made it, the dorms in view as she decided to ask you one final question.

“so, my darling apprentice [name]. got any more ideas for questions?”

“no! so stop asking them!”

“you're no fun. hmm, let's see. oh! do you have a crush?”

don't say it, you repeated mentally in your mind, but you felt the oddly numb sensation of the answer leaving you.

“bakugo katsuki.”

her eyes widened and jaw went slack. “seriously? i thought i raised you better.” she joked, poking your side as you went to cover your face with your hands.

the church bells welcomed you as the golden staircase was opened from the clouds. step by step you took, angels singing and a halo over your head as you were greeted by loved ones past–

but your peaceful departure wasn't peaceful for very long.

“well, as long as you're happy [name]. i'll be going now, text me!”

she walked off with a smile that made you feel sick, but you couldn't resist the urge to wave goodbye anyways.

you leant up against the gate of the opening, your arms basically clung around the pillar. catching your breath as you prepared yourself for a week of hiding, of intense planning around your crush–

“hey, you okay weirdo?”

the voice of said crush filled your ears, making you realize that it indeed can always get worse.

“no, i'm not okay.” she said, letting go of the pillar and shakily standing on two feet, feeling like a fawn standing for the first time.

his eyebrows raised like he didn't expect you to say that, his mouth hung open for a second, before he decided to just retort. “oh, sucks to be you then.”

“yes, yes it does.” you say of your own will, dragging a hand longly against your face.

face-to-face with him, the guy you'd randomly became close with over the years, the one that you'd harbored and now openly spoke of your crush on, and the one who you shared an affinity for romance manga with.

“are ya ever g’nna get up properly? or you just gonna stare like a dumbass?” he asked, which made you answer begrudgingly.

“everyone who falls has to get up, unless they're dead.

…

but uh– don't wait on me!”

“...right.” he shrugged, moving back towards the door to walk inside. acting off after a mission wasn't anything crazy after all, they all had weird days. at least that's how he rationalized it.

“oh, and i borrowed some shit from your room. i'll give it you tomorrow.”

“be gentle!”

“whatever.” he closed the door after him, leaving your with your thoughts alone. after the sun had fully left you alone, you decided to bite the bullet and just go inside. taking a deep breath, you walked in, trying your best to just make it to your room.

mina came up to you, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “[name]! you're back! how was it?”

“bad.” you answered, wordlessly asking for a bit of her ice cream.

she gave it to you, before joining you as you walked up the stairs. “wanna talk about it?”

“not really, but it'll be forced out of me.”

“what??”

you sighed, explaining what happened to you in between bites of your ice cream. “truth quirk. talk too much. can't shut up.”

mina made an ‘o’ shape with her lips, pondering it over mentally. “but it's not like you're a crazy liar, what's the big problem?”

“my crush on katsuki. i'm so scared that i'm gonna accidentally be forced to confess because of this.” you admitted.

mina, thankfully didn't overreact. for a second. until she smiled gleefully and shoved you into your room. “wait here, i got something for you.”

she left you with the pint of ice cream, your favorite flavor, which kept you good company until she came back with the girls of the class.

“i hope you don't mind.. well it's too bad if you do, because i told them all already. whoops!” she said, leading them all in and shutting the door.

“so, you're finally confessing?” momo asked, making you almost choke.

“no! this is against my will! i'd never confess in my life! the embarrassment of getting rejected is something i couldn't recover from.”

“really? i mean- i think it's pretty obvious the two of you have something special. ribbit.” tsuyu added, looking up at the ceiling of your dorm thoughtfully. “well, its not like you have a choice now. might as well just do it.” jirou shrugged.

“if you're here to make fun of me you can just leave!” you whined into your hands. “im already making myself miserable just fine!”

the girls exchanged glances, before they sighed. uraraka started, “[name] we were here to try and encourage you to do it out of your own will, but if you really don't want to.. we can help.”

“help? like how?”

mina jumped, “by making sure you don't accidentally confess of course!”

“but it won't be easy.” yaoyorozu chimed in, “we'll have to plan this out well, it's a week isn't it?”

“a week from today.. that's saturday.”

“okay guys, let's do this for [name]!” mina cheered, placing her hand in the middle of the group. the other girls all moved to place their hands on top of hers, and waited for you to finish it off.

“come on!” uraraka encouraged, making you sigh and place your hand on the top.

as you raised your hand on the count of three, hearing their cheers and hopes in encouragement for you and for their plan, you felt a bit of hope that it just might turn out alright.

they shuffled out afterwards, patting you on the back and making tiny promises as they moved out. with a final wink from mina and a whispered, “good night [name], i promise everything will work out!” they were gone.

as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling that never changed no matter what did in your life, you allowed yourself to rest.

7 days to go.

when will this end? you thought, all the optimism from yesterday ripped from you.

insomnia arose from the anxiety that implanted a pit of dread in your stomach, it didn't let you sleep, no matter how sleepy you had gotten.

horrible scenarios played one after one, like a record player made of your nightmares. what if he rejected you in front of your school? no, what if he has a secret girlfriend and you look like a total homewrecker for confessing?

or even worse, what if he doesn't like women at all and you missed all the signs?

you squealed into a pillow, trying to escape your sorrows as you realized,

you were probably just hungry for some actual food. when was the last time you ate properly? who knows.

you slipped on house slippers and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you prepared a pot of chai, greeting iida and other early risers who were up out of instinct, since it's a sunday.

yawning, you scroll mindlessly on your phone while you wait for your tea to finish. a familiar voice takes you out of your bubble.

“yo.” is all he says, sliding by you by causally placing a hand on your waist, letting go only a second later.

“uh.. hey. want some tea?” you managed, ignoring the spiraling of your soul as you were met by the close proximity of his face. “yeah, sounds cool.”

you pour him a glass, letting him put the sugar in by himself as you fix one for yourself too. he looks to see if anyone was in earshot of the two of you, before whispering into your ear.

“did you see when usui jumped off the building for misa?”

“yes. its one of my favorite scenes!” you answer before you realize it, but you're slowly starting to get used to the feeling of it. “i mean, he's so cool for that.”

“yeah, but his legs would be fucked. or he'd be paralyzed for life after that fall. would've been an easy choice to make him break a leg and have ‘er take care of him.”

“but isn't that so predictable? it's better to take a unique route-”

“no spoilers.”

“it's not really a spoiler though! man, i really loved that scene. i think it's my favorite.”

“why?” he asked, an odd tonal shift in his voice.”

“i like usui.”

“no, like. do you imagine someone doing that to you?” he was close, way to close. your mouth was opening, your answer was so clear to you, it was about to be ruined, until–

“oh [name]! may i have some of your tea please?” yaoyarozu saved the day. you thanked her mentally, getting her a glass and smiling at her small wink. she hung close by, you didn't notice before, but she was within earshot.

“anyways, what were we talking about katsuki?”

“..'s nothing. see ya.”

he left her there, knees weak in worry or affection? both probably. she mouthed a thank you to momo, before going back up to her dorm to get ready for the day.

sunday, not much to do thankfully. you decided to hang out in your room for a while, drawing and relaxing, managing to catch up on a couple hours of sleep as you tried to avoid katsuki as much as possible.

though, even in this brief moment where you were attempting to avoid him, you couldn't help but notice that he tended to come to you first.

greetings and conversations started by him, fleeting touches initiated by him, small nods in the hallways of the dorms given by him, and even-

a text message left by him, asking if he could come to your dorm for just a moment. for the books.

you wondered now if he was solely coming for that reason.. could there be an off chance he was coming for you?

..no. no way, you thought. you brushed it off, and opted to make it seem like the girls were already in your room, just so you wouldn't be alone with him. can't take chances anymore.

you texted the girls the news, and the ones who weren't at the mall or busy came to see you, leaving uraraka, tsuyu, and hagakure.

you welcomed them in, “thanks for coming guys. we can actually paint each others nails since we're already here?”

they all nodded with excitement, you pulled out the limited colors you had, though they were all your favorites. they began to paint each other’s nails, while you finally texted him back. telling him to come, but that the others were here too. he only reacted with a thumbs up.

“what did he say?” tsuyu asked.

“oh, he just responded with a thumbs up.” like you summoned him, a knock was heard at the door. you went to open it, making the girls laugh quietly behind their hands. greeting you was the sight of katsuki in his usual baggy attire holding two bags of books from what you could see. you stepped outside of your room, the door behind you. “hi katsuki.”

“hey– uh, [name].” he greeted. he held up a bag and handed it to you. “thanks for um.. lending it to me.” a hand naturally went towards the back of his head, rubbing it as he averted his eyes away from you.

he waited for you to set the bag down inside the room, before holding out the second one to you.

“what's this?” you asked, accepting it as you looked into red eyes.

“well– it's some of my collection. you haven't read it before, it's so we could talk about it. or something.”

a soft smile overcame you. “i think i'd like that.”

hagakure made a casual remark, they'd been eavesdropping from behind the door, muffled remarks not quite coherent enough to be a worry. but one question had managed to reach your and his ears.

“they're so cute together! aren't they literally dating?”

his face tinged pink, but you knew you'd say your thoughts.

“i wish.”

his face looked incredulous, as if he couldn't believe you just said that. “wait- what did you just–”

but before he could finish the question that would seal your fate, the door was opened quickly behind you, uraraka placing a hand over your mouth before smiling nervously. “um, she's not in her right mind today bakugo! don't mind her.”

his eyebrow raised. “really? why?”

“because.. it's that time of the month?” she managed, making him reel back and look apologetic. “oh. ill be.. going now then. bye.” you two waved him goodbye.

he left quickly, leaving his books next to the door as he speed walked away.

you were conflicted, not knowing whether to glare at or thank uraraka, but you closed the door behind you anyways.

“are you guys serious?”

“sorry!” hagakure pleaded. “i didn't think you two could hear me, the door wasn't closed all the way!”

“i mean, we were kind of close-”

“guys! all that matters is that i fixed it!”

“what do you mean fixed it?” you cut in. “you told him im out of my mind right now.”

“it'll be okay, he likes you too much to hold it against you.” she waved it off with a smile, and held your shoulders gently. “what you really should

he worried about is school. missions come at the end of the week, but how are you gonna deal with monday through wednesday?”

“i feel like you're changing the subject. and i'm going to avoid him. easy as pie.”

they all glanced at eachother, then back at you. “sure [name]. whatever you say.”

they all bid their goodbyes soon after, hagakure still apologizing profusely as the other two patted themselves on the back for speedy thinking.

the door shut and once again you were left to plan, only this time you managed a good night's sleep.

your life wasn't completely over, at least.

you dreaded the next three days. thursday and friday were safe for you, the only person you'd have to deal with being mirko since agencies tended to schedule students at the end of the week.

you woke up and prepared yourself. it was alright eight, so you'd only have an hour before heading to school.

you'd showered and changed, fixed your hair and fixed your bag.

unfortunately, katsuki is a really good guy.

a good friend, caring too. thats why you were startled by the sight of him at your door. you didn't have time to prepare, no time to call your backup or report, because he caught you right as many of the girls just woke up.

you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you looked up at him, “katsuki?”

he held a bag in his hand, something that was oddly reoccurring lately. “hey, about your 'time of the month’ shit.” he placed the bag safely in your arms, and averted his eyes from you once again.

“i brought you some stuff i thought might help, since we got class today.”

“really? you shouldn't have.” you peeked in the top, seeing a stuffed animal, chocolates, a heating pad, and some ice packs.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “i wanted to. i hope you stop feeling so fucked.” a beat passes, his eyebrows scrunched as if he wants to say something more, but he chooses not to.

“see ya.” with that, he left you alone with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. the pink bag gripped tightly in your hands and set gently onto your desk.

the warm feeling was soon gone, replaced with a feeling of guilt. guilt for basically ignoring him.

you slumped onto your desk in the middle of the class, scribbling down notes like there was no tomorrow, taking sips of a drink you enjoyed while ignoring the growing ache in your wrist.

mr. aizawa was just going over the basics of hero courtesy again, a refresher for your on hand experience at the end of the week. you really didn't need to take notes, but you found it got your mind off the red eyes you felt looking at the back of your head.

you were almost tempted to look back, almost. but with a determination that rivaled even midoriya’s, you just kept going.

finally, the lunch bell rang. you got up and stretched, everyone got their bearings and followed suit. they all piled out, leaving you as the last one there, though you couldn't help but notice a lingering gaze stare at you, before he finally followed suit and left the classroom.

you stood there, trying to figure out what you should do for lunch, when a ‘ahem’ brought you out of your thoughts.

“[name]. i appreciate your hard work in class and all, but id like to nap this period.” mr aizawa said gruffly.

“oh! sorry! i was just leaving.” you grabbed your lunchbox and ran out the room.

now came the issue of figuring out where to sit.

it was no secret to anyone that you and katsuki would usually spend the entire lunch period on the roof together most days, you'd even go up there by yourself on days he wasn't here.

so to be in the cafeteria again was a bit unnerving for you, but you took a spot besides jirou and got out the lunch you made.

she seemed surprised to see you, but then remembered why you were here. “it's cool to see you down here [name]. you're only ever up on the rooftop making out with your boyfriend.”

“we don't even make out. and he's not my boyfriend!”

“sure. that's why he's staring over here right now. and he stares at you in class too, does he ever get tired?”

“i don't know, why are you asking me like i know him in and out?”

“okay, let's just calm down you two.” momo cut in. “[name], happy to see you.”

you nodded, “yeah? i'm happy to see you too.”

you tried your best to ignore katsuki’s eyes boring into your soul, but you accidentally glanced over at him, quickly averting your eyes away.

you finished your lunch quickly, moving to be in between jirou and momo much to their dismay. you really just wanted this day to be over.

going back to class you rested your head against the table, only participating when you actively had to. you just felt so guilty about ignore him, especially after what he did for you this morning.

you realized just how much of your day you spent with him, because when it came time to walk back to the dorm, you felt alone for the first time in months even.

he'd always been by your side, maybe even offering to go out for a small treat with you, you felt the lack of his presence like a withdrawal.

you did everything you could just to avoid him in the halls, basically even running away at one point. everyone knew now of how weird you had been acting, but it wasn't really your fault, you had a master plan to enact!

the next day was just like the last, keeping your head down and turned completely away from katsuki, turning the opposite direction when you'd so much as see his hair, partnering with someone else just so you wouldn't get stuck with him.

going home to eat dinner in your room, ignoring his texts altogether. he even called you at one point.

you shoved a pillow over your head, though it didn't serve to silence the voices screaming at you that it wasn't fair what you were doing to him, that you should man up and just confess already.

but what you didn't expect was for him to take it into his own hands.

wednesday started easily enough, same way as the last two. silly for you to think you could go 3/3, no problems encountered.

you were walking in the halls, choosing the lower floors you knew he wouldn't be in, trotting down to the cafeteria to third wheel momo and jirou.

you were almost there, when you were suddenly pulled into a vacant classroom by the hand. a hand that you'd felt many times against yours, but never with so much intent behind it.

there stood katsuki in front of you, eyes low and waiting as he looked you over.

“[name].” he started, still holding on to your hand. “we need to talk.”

“talk. about what exactly?”

“you know what. you've been ignoring me.” he let go of your hand, crossing them into his chest as he looked you over. “did.. i do something wrong?”

“what? no! it's me!”

“you?”

“yes, it's me. not you. well i mean it is you, but not like that!”

“it's my fault?”

“yes– wait no. yes and no? listen-”

“so, you're ignoring me?” he stepped closer to you, eye contact fierce as you could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. betrayal, even.. insecurity.

“yes. well, i mean i don't– you don't understand!” you tried to reason, but he scoffed.

“save it. i know when im not wanted.”

“katsuki! no-” you grabbed his hand before you even realized it, pulling him closer to you.

“i..” your brain was screaming at you to just admit it now before you would do so accidentally, but..

you couldn't.

“i can't tell you why right now, but it's not what you think.”

his eyes rolled, he took his hand out of yours forcibly. “i don't think i even want to hear that shit. shove it.”

with his hands now shoved in his pocket, he left you alone in that classroom. you walked to the table with wide eyes, never thinking you'd ever miss the feeling of being watched, but admittedly you grew used to it.

you acted that way out of fear of rejection, but did you just get rejected anyways? you hit your head against the lunch table in frustration.

“i'm an idiot.” you muttered, muffled by the material of the tables below. momo patted you on the back.

“i mean, i called it.” jirou said, taking a bite out of her food. “no way this was ever gonna work out.”

“it really wasn't the best idea [name]..” momo finally agreed, still soothing your back. “i mean, there was better ways of going about this. you just ended up pushing him away.”

“i know that now. ugh!”

“it's not too late, there's only what? three days left? you can make it up to him on saturday.”

“it's too late, i'm ruined.”

“right..”

you don't remember the rest of the conversation. you didn't remember even walking up to class, or walking out of it to your dorm. you were in a state of mourning, dreading ever seeing him again. at least for the next two days you wouldn't.

that was the only thought that could let you sleep peacefully, but it made you wake up early regardless.

sulking as you got ready in your hero outfit, walking slowly to the train station with a bag you packed the week prior. mirko texted you the location in tokyo where you'd meet up this week, standing on one of the sides of the train station that seemed pretty busy today.

as the train came to a stop in front of you, you noticed that when the door opened, a familiar face was on the other side.

katsuki.

your eyes widened and looked away from his as you shuffled in, all the seats were full to you hanged onto the bar.

you didn't look at him, though you were jealous at the fact that he got a seat and you didn't. you sulked internally, feeling your knees buckle at not only your exhaustion, but the proximity to him.

there was only a small space next to him now, the kid who'd been next to him getting off at this stop. you eyed it, and he noticed, sighing and gently pulling you towards him.

you were shoved against him, though he said nothing to you.

“kat–”

“it's nothing. don't think about it.”

he barely spared you a glance, though you felt you deserved it now. you sighed, instinctually leaning a head on his shoulder and dozing off. he didn't move you off of him.

you felt him lay his head on yours, the music from his outdated wired headphones leaking into your ear as you took a nap.

the time felt like nothing as you laid there, feeling like only a split second when you felt katsuki shaking you. “yo, [name]. wake up.” he called to you. your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the fluorescent bright lights of the train.

“hm?” you mumbled, moving off of him to get up.

“we're at our station. or mine at least.” he slung his bag around his shoulder.

“oh, this is mine too. coincidence.”

“yeah.”

at the news he grabbed your bag and held it. he waited for you to stretch you legs and neck, before walking beside you. “so, where are ya going?”

“to mirko.”

“duh, i know that. but what is she doing in tokyo of all places?”

“oh, she just tells me places to go and i get there day of. she can't tell me anything, i think it's confidential?”

“mhm. well i'll walk you to your shit, i'm a future number one hero, not an asshole.

“well..”

“then walk by yourself.” he threw your bag at you, walking faster and leaving you a bit behind.

“no, wait!”

you chased after him, and kept by his side. no matter which direction you turned, it was the same way he was going. until you finally just look at the address, and sure enough..

mirko decided to work at best jeanist’s agency.

you felt a mix of emotions wash over you. annoyance, dread, anger.

“what's up?”

“mirko chose to work with best jeanist.”

“what?”

“i know.”

“she only did it to piss me off. ugh!” she kicked a can in the alleyway. they were in eyeshot of the huge agency.

“really, why would she even do that?”

“because of you.” a hand slapped over your mouth.

“me? really?” you could hear the smirk on his face, he waltzed over to you. you were nearing the entrance now, only a staircase keeping you alone with him. you could even see the familiar white ears of your now enemy.

“what?

do you have a crush on me or something?” it was just a joke, you could hear it in his cocky demeanor.

but that didn't stop the hands that shot off your face involuntarily, as you let out a meek. “yes.”

the smile was wiped off of his face now, shock filling his expression. you ran into the doors, standing beside a mirko who greeted you warmly. a hand reaching out to grab you was now left in the air.

it felt like the air had left his lungs too.

because it turns out his feelings were reciprocal after all.

the meeting would start in a small moment, that's what the receptionist told you as you stood next to mirko, who you pulled aside to talk to.

placing your hands on either side of her shoulders, you let her have it.

“mirko, why would you choose to work here of all places?”

“i wanted to play wingman for my favorite partner. sue me.”

“but– this is making everything worse! why couldn't you have just done this in a week! or better yet- never!” you cried, stomping a foot on the floor. “

i didn't want or need any help- any now i'll have to spend tomorrow on some awkward random patrol!”

“it won't be so awkward, remember that me and that best jeanist guy will be there too.”

“like, third-wheeling? thanks a lot. that really helps me feel better.”

“think nothing of it. anyways, this is for the better. i caught wind of you and the girls’ plan. it really sucked. maybe my plan will end up working. you never know.”

“so? and what if it doesn't?”

“then what? you already got rejected didn't you?”

“yes.” a beat passed, your glare only getting stronger. “you're so annoying.”

“you love me though, anyways it's time.” she grabs your hand and guides you to the meeting room. you're sat right next to katsuki, though you do your best not to look at him. it's awkward enough just thinking about how you'd even salvage the relationship you had before, so you try not to.

you realize way too late that you'd managed to zone out through the entire mission. the map displayed virtually might as well had been in another language, the suspects and victims melting into each other, the objectives not clear.

the only notable thing to you was a random, large red circle over a part of the city. but besides that you had no idea what was going on, and based on the look on mirko’s face, listening along was vital.

you brushed it off. not thinking that it was that important, and your instincts hadn't failed you that horrifically yet.

you exited the room besides mirko, who had gotten the two of you a hotel for the two nights you were staying here. a penthouse suite awaited you. you would've been more thankful, if not for her betrayal of you earlier.

the night was swift, faster than you wanted it to be. you found yourself already in your hero outfit at the crack of dawn, trudging alongside mirko.

one word described the streets. busy, full of life. something you weren't really used to.

stealth missions and random outposts were where you were usually sent, nobody seen for ages. so maybe you should have spent a bit more time paying attention to the mission debrief..

“is it always like this?” you questioned to bakugo, who stood right next to you.

“what do you mean?”

“like. busy.”

“oh, yeah it is. always pretty boring though. no smart villain would make an attack with so many people around. at least one hero would be stationed over here.”

“guess you're right.”

“i know i am.”

and he was proven right. the side of town you two were stationed to, seperate from mirko and jeanist, was completely fine.

the only thing you two had done the whole day was save a cat out of a tree, handing it to a little girl who looked up at you with stars in her eyes as you did.

it was afternoon now, and your shift was officially over. you slumped against a wall dramatically, slipping down onto the floor as you breathed a sigh of relief.

katsuki sat next to you, a close proximity between you two not foreign usually, though with the weird back and forth that had been going on thus far, it was nice to know he still considered you to be close.

“‘m fucking hungry.” he finally said, making you laugh. “that's what you're thinking of right now?”

“no. not really.”

“well, then what is it?”

“it's you, [name].”

he takes a breath. “let me talk, okay.” he moved to face you, and at your nod, he continued.

“you confuse me. for years we've gotten close, comfortable. but all of a sudden you avoided me like the plague. i hated it.” his face changes with a mixture of emotions.

“i.. i really fucking like you. and i'm confused as if you feel the same way, you seemed pissed to even be with me right now so. it's just odd. you're acting odd.

because sometimes you're like fucking into me. you even brought me lunch at some point. and now with the ignoring me bullshit? i just don't get it.” he dropped his shoulders, eyes widening slightly.

“so do you like me or not? or should i just leave you the fuck alone?”

“yes and no.”

his face scrunched up in confusion. “so-”

“ugh! just shut up! i like you- okay? is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes, actually.” he breathed a sigh of relief, a joking hand laid over his chest. “you're confusing.”

“i know.”

“you're close.”

“i mean you sat here-”

“can i kiss you?”

a crack of sunlight dawned through the small corridor, illuminating his eyes, and to him your body. you knew what you'd say for yourself, but you didn't mind this time.

because it's what you truly wanted.

“i thought you'd never ask.”

you felt his lips on yours in an instant, his arms wrapping around your lower back and caging you into him, the buzzing of your phone going unnoticed as he tilted his head against yours.

breathless. the only real word you could use to describe how you felt right now, after having pulled away.

you didn't have a chance to wipe your lip gloss off his face, not before mirko and jeanist stood behind you two, her hands on her hips as a smirk came over her face.

“i see someone was having fun.”

oh right. the mission..

“not like it matters anymore, but we caught the villains. i texted you about it, but when you didn't respond jeanist over here told us to come

quickly.”

she gestured over to a face-palming jeanist, who only said, “it seems you two had more pressing matters to deal with.” katsuki wiped the lip gloss off his lips, wincing at the sticky feeling left on his face.

mirko snorted, while you hung your head in embarrassment, and katsuki looked away from the two of them.

“you know what? stay out as long as you two lovebirds would like. i'll cover for the two of you.”

“what? really?”

she winked at you, and mouthed “wingman”, before turning to leave. “if you're really questioning me, i'll just not let you g-”

katsuki cut her off. “it's cool. thanks, see you losers.” he grabbed your hand, pulling you effortlessly off the ground, a bit into his chest as he led you to start walking off.

“'got somewhere cool to show ya’.” is all he said, before taking you to a restaurant he frequented, or so he told you. he ordered the spiciest plate, and you chose one to your preference. you got a dessert, he skipped out though because of his disdain for them.

“katsuki, i really should tell you something.”

“go ahead.”

it was your turn now to breath, looking up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes as you blurted out, “i was hit by a truth quirk, i avoided you because i was scared to confess to you, and now i feel guilty.”

no sound was heard other than the clacking of utensils and movement in the background, you opened your eyes to see a bakugo who looked as if he was holding in his laugh.

“seriously? that was it?” you could hear the smile in his voice, his hand moved to cover his mouth. “no- i mean that's super crazy [name], very justified response.”

“you're rude.”

“no, no i'm being real.” he could barely hide the casual giggle being let out, “like, it's crazy how hard that must've been. no immediate solutions at all.”

“well, i'm emotionally invested so obviously it was harder for me to think!”

“why didn't you just tell mr. aizawa, he could've canceled it out for you in class.”

“.. i didn't think of that.”

he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing, having to cover his hand with his mouth to keep from cackling.

meanwhile, you crossed your arms and looked straight-faced. “this isn't funny at all by the way.”

he finally calmed down enough, grabbing your hand from across the table and still smirking slightly.

“sorry, sorry. fucking sore ass subject, i got it. let's get out of here already.”

“right, you ruined the atmosphere.”

“sure i did.”

he paid, and for your last stop of the day, he got you ice cream at a park. you just wanted to sit down, legs tired from the amount of walking you did today.

licking at your favorite flavor, he holds up his ice cream to your mouth to try. it was a sour, savory flavor. but you ended up liking it.

the moon was out now, greeting the two of you as you sat side-by-side, illuminating your bodies with the reflected rays of the sun.

it felt late you realized, and you looked down at your phone’s time, sighing in happiness.

it was 12:00, you were free.

“hey katsuki, ask me something.”

“uh.. did you enjoy our day today?”

“no.” a face of annoyance grew on his face, while one of excitement adorned yours. “see? it's over!”

“you can say that.”

“no dumbass! i lied, i really did enjoy today! the quirk is over.” you leaned back raising your hands in glee. “i'm free!”

he laughed, leaning back with you and looking at the constellation’s in the sky.

“well, since you're free now, i'll ask you one final question.”

“hm?” you turned to look at him, his hand rose to grab yours in his. his fingers ran over your knuckles.

“can i be your boyfriend?”

you paused, before a smile erupted over your face once again.

“you could've asked me earlier, and my answer would still be the same,”

so, obviously yes.”

he grinned, pulling you into him.

you sealed your answer with a kiss. soft, endearing, long, and truthful. his hands were tangled in your hair, your hands around the upper part of his back.

as you pulled away, you could only hope this would last forever, that the feeling of honesty and security would be forever eternal as you laid against his chest, pointing out things you'd saw in the stars.

but looking at him once more, you knew it'd be alright.

it was the truth written in the stars, after all.

end.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 months ago

Text

fine line ── l. hs (teaser!)

update: this fic's been posted! click here to read <3

↳ summary ── heesung's got two problems: (1) he can't sleep, and (2) he's addicted to the 1AM combo of instant ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe to glare at the new night shift employee, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee. and you don't know what's worse: his weird food choices or his apparent superiority complex. either way, if you have to watch him inhale another bowl like it's his last meal ever, you might lose it. but hey, you know what they say—there’s a fine line between love and hate...

↳ pairing ── heeseung x f!reader

↳ genre ── idol!heeseung, e2l!au, strangers to lovers!au || crack, fluff, teensy bit of angst because a certain someone doesn't know how to communicate their feelings...

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── haii everyone it's been a long time coming...i've been having a MAJOR writer's block and also just kinda taking a break because work has been more tiring on my body so i've just been exhausted recently so i apologize for the lack of content,,,but WE'RE BACK! if anyone's ever watched backstreet rookie (it's my comfort show i love kim yoo-jung), i'm kinda going for those romcom vibes here hehe. this sneak peek isn't as revealing as my others,,,it's quite short but this one is gonna be a lil more rom-com mixed with eventual angst because what is heeseung if not a yearner?

send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3 (current tag list at end of post :D )

snippet under the cut!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

“So…do you actually enjoy these together, or are you just trying to destroy your stomach lining?”

He freezes. Great, you’re talking. So much for a perfect night.

He adjusts his cap to peer at you and the same unimpressed, judgemental look sitting on your face as you lean against the counter behind you. “What’s wrong with my choices?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “What right with them? This combo screams, ‘I have unresolved issues I’m trying to boil away with spice and sugar.’”

Okay, ouch.

Heeseung narrows his eyes, trying to ignore the weird pinch in his chest at how quickly you read him, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“I like them. That’s all that matters,” his voice drips with a certain sharpness, hoping the edge in his tone is enough to make you back off.

You, however, seem entirely unfazed.

“Just trying to help—” you shrug as you scan his items, “looking out for your poor taste buds.”

For a moment, Heeseung considers firing back, but then his gaze catches yours for a millisecond too long as you take his cash and, immediately, he’s wondering—for the hundredth time—if you know.

Do you recognize him?

The thought has been gnawing at him since the first time he stepped into this store and saw you sitting there five days ago. Sure, he’s got his identity pretty much concealed under his borderline clinically insane hat-mask-hoodie combo, but still—most people at least give him a double take, a lingering glance. Something.

But you? Nothing. No flash of recognition. No curiosity. Nothing to indicate you know you’re talking to Lee Heeseung—part idol, part insomniac, 100% ramen enthusiast.

And for some reason, that both annoys and intrigues him.

“Thanks for your concern,” Heeseung mumbles dryly, quickly grabbing the ramen cup and cold drink from your hands.

“No problem,” you chirp just as sarcastically, an annoying smile on your face. “Enjoy your…uh, gourmet meal.”

Heeseung throws you one last glare before shaking his head and stalking off to the self-serve station. He puts the cup down on the counter with a little more force than necessary and pours boiling water over the noodles, glaring into the steam as your voice rings in his head.

What’s wrong with ramen and coffee milk? He scowls. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I definitely don’t have unresolved issues.

But as he steals a glance back at the check-out counter and catches you sorting bills like nothing happened, a weird unease settles in his chest.

He looks down at this ramen, then at the coffee milk.

For the first time ever, he feels…self-conscious.

And now you’re in his head.

Great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

this made me crave ramen.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)

<3, addie

current tag list: [bolded couldn't be tagged, sorry :( ]

@xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaaah @heejamas @jiyeons-closet @sagegreenhairclip @betda @ineedsomezzz @motherscrustytoenailclippings @bussolares @soobnuuy @deluluscenarios @chrrific @vvenusoncasual @rairaiblog @mwahvvis @lveegsoi @desssss-0 @hoonkishoe @sunhyeswife @ilovbeshotaro @dearestdreamies @starry-eyed-bimbo @planetmarlowe @lovialy @ambi01 @elairah @therealmrsbahng @lov4hoon @hollxe1 @lovenha7 @ilovhoonie @coqhee @i03jae @letwiiparkjay @manuosorioh @mintysunoo @amiraazzz @renaishun @enhadd @ikeulove @starniras @heartheejake @zaycie

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deathofacupid · 4 months ago

Text

── .✦ CONVERGENCE THEORY ﾉ chapter one.

featuring. guitarist!geto x nerd!jo x bimbo!reader. warnings. cursing, sex jokes. summary. a brainiac who quotes theorems, a rock god who smashes guitars, and a social butterfly who can't remember anyone's name. the three of you couldn't be further different if you tried. but, what is it they say? ...opposites attract? word count. 1.4k+ words. a/n. was literally half-asleep writing this. enjoy, uh, whatever this may be. might go in for edits, after i've gotten more than two hours of sleep? divider credits to @/bronzewasp and @/enchanthings-a. -> click here for the series m.list!

"you just need to think about it. i mean, you're almost there."

that was a lie. shamelessly, your tutor, satoru gojo, lied to you. it's not like you're listening, anyways. well, okay, you tried. for a whole two minutes, then you tapped out.

besides, you're nailing that third layer of gloss, lips pursed like you're trying to suck a golf ball through a straw. the compact mirror reflects peak shine, a momentary oasis of perfection in the academic wasteland.

"y/n?" satoru persists, tapping the twenty-five that was circled in the corner. for a millisecond, you experience a flicker of what might be called academic concern.

it manifests as a slight tightening around the eyes, quickly suppressed. but then, you realize it's just a number.

you glance at it. red ink. a lot of it. it looks like a crime scene for a pen. but it’s just a number. a number signifying a thing you clearly didn’t prioritize.

you shrug internally. it’s not that you're opposed to doing well, it's just that the effort-to-reward ratio seems wildly unbalanced, especially when you're this close to achieving peak lip gloss.

you take one look at him, sighing. wondering to yourself, how did i get here? to which you would remember the four failed tests in a row. every single time, your professor, the human equivalent of beige wallpaper, dropped your test face down. like it was a biohazard.

if you were more self-aware, maybe you'd have realized it's close to one.

snapping your compact mirror shut, you huff at him. eyes boring into him, as if satoru personally committed a war crime against you. setting it on the table, you groan, "what?"

he gives you an awkward smile, signature of his. another signature of his? that sweater vest. he's got three or four in rotation, and you'd make fun of him.

you would, but it's uncanny how well they look on him. you're not sure what it is, but paired with those glasses that are too big for him, he pulls it off.

not that he even bothers.

satoru ducks his head, prompting to fiddle with his pencil instead. you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

so far, as much as you've counted, the max he can hold eye contact with you is four seconds. ooh, he was close to beating his record this time.

a whopping three. since you were feeling generous, you even throw in another couple milliseconds. you consider yourself a pretty good individual, anyways.

he clears his throat, eyes fixed on the mess of a test. "this one. number seven. let's try it again?" it comes out more like a question, and you giggle. it's not condescending, you swear, he's just funny.

maybe, satoru doesn't think the same. not from the way his cheeks are red. almost the same shade as the ink, you notice.

you pop the bubble you've blown with your gum, "but i don't, like, get it."

"that's okay. 's what i'm here for. look, you didn't even do anything crazy here. just," he pauses, squinting at your work. it's in warm, curly handwriting. it's pretty, but most of it seems to be random numbers.

"oh, I see," he mumbled, pushing his glasses up. they slid back down. you considered suggesting glasses that fit, then decided it was probably part of the... presentation.

"see, you just forgot to carry the two. early on here. that's why the rest of this doesn't make sense."

you blinked. "there's a two?"

"well, yeah. see, they give it to you."

"where?" you squinted, shifting slightly, as if the paper being upside-down would better aid you.

he pointed. "...there?"

"oh," you shrugged. "i didn't see that."

his eyes nearly bulged. "then what were you going off of?"

another shrug. "i don't remember."

he stared. "you just... guessed?"

"maybe?" you tilted your head. "is that a problem? Is there a 'no guessing' rule i missed?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "this is a calculus problem."

"and?"

"and you can't just guess."

"why not? Is the answer going to explode if i guess wrong? does it trigger a self-destruct sequence in the paper?" you tapped the sheet with a long, very pink, acrylic nail. "because I'm willing to risk it. i'm feeling lucky. like, i just found a twenty dollar bill in my laundry lucky."

he looked at the equation, then back at you, then back at the equation. "you know, sometimes i wonder if you're pulling my leg."

"is that a legitimate mathematical operation?" you asked, pointing to the paper. "can we add 'pulling legs' to the list of acceptable problem solving techniques?"

with you, he can't tell if you're joking or not. he sincerely hopes you are, and that isn't a true thought in your head, but he wouldn't be surprised if it were.

he's about to open your mouth, but when he looks up to meet your gaze, he sees that it's not on him anymore. it's all the way across the library, to the glass doors.

or, rather, what passes behind them. unmistakable, even with the two seconds he gets.

suguru geto. suguru with his long, black hair, electric guitar on his back. unmistakeable.

alas, to you, he wasn't just suguru. he was ex-boyfriend suguru. satoru wasn't one for gossip, but you and him had been all the talk before, during, and after.

you're seething, at least a little bit. because, there, hand-in-hand, with him, is some girl. the audacity.

"he's mocking me," you mutter.

"uh, i don't know. i don't think he knows you're in here."

"of course, he does. there's no way he's actually over me. right?" the last word tumbles out a moment after the others, filled with pure, unadulterated shock.

you turn to face him, leaning in. "right?" to which, satoru scoots back, pressed against the chair. he thinks he would like to go back to math now.

"that- that piece of shit. whatever," you huff, though you may seem anything but unbothered. "he's the one missing out."

"...yeah. um, anyways-"

"but, seriously," you start. oh, god, he thinks. "he's doing it to piss me off, right? he thinks, like, everything's about him, right? as if i'd go after that poor girl. she's already probably going through a lot with him. besides," you scoff, "i'm way above that."

he offers you a weak smile. "right. now, about the two-"

"i just can't believe he'd move on so quick."

satoru sighs. he's a man who knows when he's lost. "yeah. how dare he."

"that's what i'm saying!" you threw your hands up in exclamation, a gesture that could launch a thousand ships, or at least a strongly worded complaint from the librarian.

she shot you a dirty look, the kind that could curdle milk and wilt houseplants. you shot one right back.

"okay," he said quickly, his voice a desperate plea for academic sanity. "can we go back to the two? we only have ten minutes left, and frankly, my will to live is dwindling with each passing second."

"he's such an ass," you muttered, then paused, a flicker of grudging admiration in your eyes. "an ass that's good in bed. what a shame."

the tips of his ears pinked. you suppressed a grin. what a virgin. you were sure of it, at least. he had potential, should he ever give up on the whole nerd thing.

maybe swap the sweater vests for something a little less… "grandpa goes to a book club" and a little more… "leather jacket and a motorcycle he definitely doesn't own."

you glanced at the digimon pins on his backpack. nevermind, that may be too far for him. he was probably still debating which starter digimon was the most strategically viable.

you, on the other hand, were not even bothering with a backpack. it was a leather hobo bag, large enough to smuggle a small, moderately anxious chihuahua, and frankly, a graded test in there would just be clutter.

you had more important things occupying the space, like a half-eaten bag of those weird ginger candies that tasted like spicy sadness, a spare tube of lip gloss in case you needed to blind your enemies with pure shine, and a crumpled receipt for a questionable amount of boba.

sighing, rather dramatically, like a tragic heroine in a black and white film, you looked back at the doors. dumb suguru. messing up your day.

sure, it wasn't going all that well, given that you'd been doing math for two hours, a feat that should qualify you for some kind of endurance award, but he didn't have to make it worse. he was like a mosquito at a picnic, just buzzing around and ruining everything.

"two?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance of your emotional turmoil.

"two," you agreed, deflated, blowing a bubble that popped with a sad little plip.

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edamameimei · 2 months ago

Text

always love you (megan skiendiel x reader)

"still, i'll always be there for you, how i do. i let go of my claim on you, it's a free world."

synopsis: the five times you wish megan would choose you + the one time megan finally does. tags: angst. hurt, no comfort! idol!megan x dream academy!reader au. an: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: suggestive themes MDNI! kissing, substance use. swearing. megan is kind of a meanie head in this ): wc: 8109

⏯ now playing: godspeed - frank ocean

When you first met her, you called it fate.

To you, it was fate and everything in between because auditioning for Dream Academy seemed like a lost cause. When you first saw the announcement, you thought it would be too good to be true. And the fact that it was global? There was no possible way for someone like you to receive good news, let alone be sent a rejection. You almost convinced yourself that your audition tape would become lost amongst the thousands that would be submitted.

But there was an urge to do it— an urge so strong you couldn’t possibly say no to the grip the Hybe x Geffen ad had on you. Also, at that point, anything would have been better than going to college. So, you took fate up on its offer.

And surprisingly, fate allowed you to hear back months later. Not only get a response, but also earn a spot with the project.

Moving to Los Angeles was something you never considered before Dream Academy. You were so used to your small town that the idea of packing your bags and going somewhere so daunting almost made you drop out of the project completely. But there was a reason you were chosen, and you were determined to see it through.

Once you arrive at the dorms, your anxiety begins to creep up on you. Most of the other girls met during training and development virtually, so you felt relieved to hear you would be sharing a space with two other girls who were also new to the line-up. From what you were told, one is named Daniela and the other is Manon. You hope and pray they are decent people to be around.

When you enter the room, you realize you’re the last one to set up your space. You walk over to the open bed, smoothing out the sheets in front of you. Your eyes begin to twitch when you hear loud voices out in the hallway, suddenly feeling trapped despite being the only one inside the dorm. The thought of being stuck with 19 other girls makes you feel self-conscious. You flinch when you hear a girl’s voice booming from the other side of the door.

None of it feels real; the experience still feels fresh, as if you read that email just yesterday.

There’s a desire to run and hide, but you aren’t sure where you would even go. You decide to sit down on the floor, crossing your legs. Your hands shake as you rub your face, trying to control the panic that begins to settle in your throat. You’re supposed to be getting ready for your first big meeting with the other girls, yet the negative thoughts in your head run wild, the synapses in your brain misfiring at a millisecond.

You grip your knees when you hear the door open.

The person murmurs, “Oh shit,” upon walking in and it causes you to look up with wide eyes.

Your eyes meet a pair of soft brown hues that makes your mouth go dry. You feel your heart beat faster as you see a smile form on her lips and hear her giggle nervously. “Fuck– Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I thought this was Sophia’s room…”

You don’t know who Sophia is, but you really wish, in this moment, you were the girl she was looking for. The stranger looks around the room, and you can tell she’s feeling a bit panicked. Her awkwardness causes you to laugh. You wipe your eyes as the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach disappears with just her presence.

You stand to your feet, shaking your head. “A Sophia isn’t assigned to this room, sorry…” Your voice is a bit shaky as you speak, and you can’t help but feel relieved when she doesn’t comment. She simply nods, stepping out of the room with a quick wave. “I’d say more, but I really need to find her. I’ll see you later?” You laugh again, and it makes her laugh as well, both of you finding the situation amusing. You wave her goodbye and watch as she quickly closes the door shut.

Your heart feels full as you turn back toward your luggage, a new feeling of motivation resonating throughout your body.

Her name is Megan, and it’s fate that brought you two here together.

You walk outside of the Geffen building and find Megan sitting on the grass with her headphones in. She had her eyes closed, trying to find some sort of peace after another exhausting day of practice. You slowly walk toward her, feeling a gravitational pull toward the black-haired girl.

You sit yourself next to her, deciding to lie down when the exhaustion begins to catch up to you as well. You put your arms underneath your head and glance at her, watching as she opens her eyes. Megan slowly takes her headphones off, raising an eyebrow. She opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it.

The words come out quickly and slightly jumbled. “You’re really talented.” You can tell your sudden compliment throws Megan off guard as she chuckles nervously. She looks away, her eyes crinkling. “Thank you…” You sit up and give her a soft smile.

There is a calming energy to Megan that provides you with a weird sense of security, and as you two sit in a comfortable silence, you wonder if she feels the same way about you.

The rest is history.

Wherever Megan would go, you would follow in tow. There wasn’t a moment when the other Dream Academy contestants wouldn’t see Megan without you, and vice versa. You often relished in your alone time when you had the chance, but now with Megan in your life, you don’t mind the younger girl tagging along with you to an activity that was meant to be solo or coming with her on a late-night drive.

You have grown fond of Megan’s personality. She could light up any room she walked into, her bright smile immediately putting everyone in a better mood, despite the rising tension amongst the girls most days. She’s carefree yet so passionate about her dreams. Her ambitions motivated you to work hard, to solidify a spot in the group so you can continue being by her side.

But unfortunately, there were more days than not when you can’t seem to see the finish line.

You sit criss-crossed on your bed, staring down at your hands in your lap. Today, you will be filming the first teaser for Dream Academy, and the thought of the project going public makes you feel sick. Your roommates have already gotten ready– their gray uniforms on and their hair and make-up done so well that you can’t help but berate yourself for not being like them. You think about how you will never be like them. Hot tears brim your eyes, causing you to click your tongue in frustration. Your throat feels tight, and the room begins to feel smaller than before.

In the midst of your silent breakdown, you don’t notice when someone enters the room. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your bed dips slightly behind you. The person scoots closer to you, and the comforting scent of lavender and the ocean becomes more apparent.

It’s Megan. It’s always Megan.

You let out a breath of relief at the realization, instinctively leaning into the girl’s touch, to which the girl snakes her arms around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and hum in content, the anxiety suddenly washing away when you feel Megan hold you in her arms.

“I can let them know you aren’t feeling well…” Megan’s voice is soft and filled with concern. You close your eyes as you feel Megan run her fingers through your hair. She places a soft kiss on the top of your head, the warmth radiating from her body comforting you. You can’t help the flush in your cheeks when you realize how close she is to you. You clear your throat, finding your voice again. You bury your face into Megan’s neck and murmur, “No, I can do it. Just give me a few minutes…”

She rubs your back in response and nods. She says, “Let me help you with your uniform…” You roll your eyes at the mention of the gray uniform you are all forced to wear. You sigh, pulling yourself away from Megan, pouting at the loss of warmth. However, the moment you scoot away, Megan is already reaching towards you to grab your hand and lace your fingers together.

It’s as if you’ve done this a million times already. You’re convinced you have.

Megan gives your hand one last squeeze before standing up, walking towards the closet with a little bounce in her step. You giggle at her slight excitement and sniffle as you watch her sift through your clothes for the uniform. Megan pulls it out and carefully carries it to your bed. She places it down in front of you with a soft smile. Her eyes stay on you, and it causes you to look away from her with a blush on your cheeks.

“What are you looking at?” Megan shrugs at your question, sitting back down on your bed. “You have updog on your face.” She deadpans, and you snort, looking up at the Chinese girl who grins widely at you. You swat at her arm playfully. “You’re so stupid.” You say, and Megan giggles loudly, her eyes turning into crescents and her whiskers evident on her cheeks. She sticks her tongue out at you.

“Well, you’re stupider.” She says in a child-like tone. You roll your eyes, grabbing the uniform before getting up from your bed. You take a deep breath.

Fate brought you here. Fate put this uniform in front of you.

Not only is Megan your safe space, but it seems as though you’re exactly that for her as well.

You would watch the coaches tear Megan to shreds, pointing out her every flaw and every mistake. The coaching has become harsher, much more intense, and Megan has been on the short end of it. After their tirade finally ends for the day, the Chinese girl would turn her head towards you, a pleading look in her eyes. And you would only nod in understanding.

You’d meet at Megan’s car and go to the spot you two claimed on the beach or the pier. The drive would be spent in silence, the only thing that could be heard is either Megan or your playlist playing while the windows are down. Once you get to the shore, you both take a seat in front of the thrashing waves, and you wait for her to tell you what was going through her head.

But more often than not, she doesn’t tell you. She simply rests her head against your shoulder and tells you something more lighthearted. Something you’ve learned about your best friend is how hard she tries to avoid expressing how she truly feels.

You never push her in fear of crossing her boundaries, but you wish you could read her mind. You wish she confided in you the same way she confides in Emily or Adela. But being alone with her on those nights felt like enough. It should be enough.

But this time was different.

The drive to the beach felt more tense than usual. When you get to the shore, Megan immediately sits next to you, her legs pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on top of her knees. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you about the pain she has been feeling in her ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise when she brings it up, having tried in the past to get her to understand the severity, but she always told you that everything was fine.

But every time you saw her face contort into discomfort during practice, how she often collapsed to the ground once the routine ended, you knew that everything wasn’t fine at all.

You adore how hardworking she is. However, it worries you how much she pushes herself.

After listening to her speak, you place a hand on her back and rub it gently. You whisper, “You have to tell someone tomorrow, okay?” She only sighs in response and closes her eyes tightly. You watch a lone tear escape her eye. “I just… I just wanna be good, you know?” She admits, and you feel your chest begin to sting. You frown, scooting closer to her. You wrap an arm around her and pull her close, leaning your head against hers.

“You’re already good. You’re so good.” You say quietly, and for a brief moment, Megan smiles.

Her voice is soft as she responds, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually worth it.” She wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer as she continues, her voice trembling, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually gonna be everything I’d ever want.” You sit there for a moment, letting her words sink in. This is the first time she has ever been so vulnerable with you, and you aren’t sure how to react.

Your voice is quiet, but you hope it’s loud enough to show Megan that at least something has come out of the chaos. “I think… I mean. At least we have each other.” You look up at the sky as if you were making wishes on the stars. You continue with a whisper, “That means something, right?”

It’s quiet. You begin to panic slightly, and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. You’re about to pull away, to ask her if everything was okay, but she only grabs your hand. She holds it tightly. It’s as if she let go, even for a moment, you would disappear.

But you wouldn’t. You would never.

She whispers back, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.”

A couple of weeks later, you sit in a conference room with the other girls, awaiting the results from voting and the judges.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see you’ve earned immunity for the week. You glance at Megan, who avoids your gaze, and you feel your heart aching in your chest, scared of the events that will unfold right before everyone’s eyes.

Soon after, it is Adela and Hinari who are eliminated first in the competition.

You walk into the dorm with the others, the tension heavy and thick in the air. There’s a deafening silence amongst everyone, and you watch as all the girls flock to their groups, whispering. Some go into their rooms, wanting to keep their conversations private.

Before today, everyone was dedicated to each other. Now, with eliminations, it has become the real deal. There really is something worth losing in the end of all of this.

You look around to try and find Megan, but she is nowhere to be found. You know Adela’s elimination would hit her the hardest– their friendship is close and tight-knit. So, it didn’t surprise you when you found her sitting outside the dorm, alone.

You approach her cautiously, your brows immediately furrowing when you notice she has been crying. You reach out to her to grab her hand, but Megan quickly gets up. She doesn’t meet your eyes as she hoarsely whispers, “I need to be alone, Y/n.” She crosses her arms and walks back inside, leaving you behind.

You stand there, confused by your best friend’s actions. You look around for a moment, and your lip begins to tremble, that familiar lump in your throat present. Your hands turn into fists as you finally release the sob you’ve been holding in since voting began. You want to run inside and find Megan, to find comfort. But she can’t even be around you right now.

You wonder if this was all a mistake.

Unbeknownst to you, this is only the beginning of what could be the end. However, you still believe in fate. You wished upon it.

You walk up to Megan after practice one day, a small frown on your lips as you watch her pack her things. Her movements seem agitated as if she were to stay longer in the practice room, she would lose control completely. You reach out to her and gently place a hand on her shoulder.

Despite her distance from you, you know the other girl is going through so much mentally. You desperately want to show Megan that you’re there. That, just because Adela is gone, you are still in the competition. And you aren’t leaving her for anything.

However, she tenses up at your touch, shrugging your hand off to continue her task. You pull away as if you had accidentally burned her. You fidget with your fingers in silence, unsure of what to do next. Megan zips up her bag and stands to her feet, swinging the bag over her shoulder.

When she turns around, she immediately widens her eyes, not expecting you to still be there behind her. “Y/n, what do you want?” She asks, a bit exasperated by your presence. The aching in your chest only grows tenfold at the pinch in her tone. You know she’s upset, but you also know you don’t deserve to be pushed away like this.

You bite your lip to try and hide your hurt expression. You bite back what you want to say to her, what you want to confront her about, because you know Megan. And you know she’s hurting just as much as you are. Your eyes dart around the room to avoid her gaze and take a deep breath. “I just. I’m here for you.” You say with tears pooling in your eyes.

You shrug, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even trying. Your voice shakes as you speak again, “I’m here for you, that’s all.” You look down at the ground and turn away from your best friend, knowing it’s best to give her the space she desires. As you walk away, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you back forcefully.

When you turn back around, you feel Megan place her hands on your cheeks, pressing her lips hard against yours. Your brain short-circuits at the unexpected turn of events. In the back of your mind, you know you should push her away. You know that this wasn’t what you both needed, especially this far into Dream Academy. But when she pulls away and looks up at you, desperate and breathless, nothing could stop you from pulling her into another kiss.

It was deeper this time, your lips moving against hers messily. You feel her run her hands through your hair, and if this is what Megan needed, you were more than okay to oblige.

The other girls were relieved to see you and Megan back to your normal dynamic.

The moment they saw you two enter the practice room together the next day, pinkies linked and smiles on your faces, they couldn’t help but feel as though everything was finally going to be okay. But this time around, it felt different, more charged.

They notice the secret glances across the room, the subtle touches during evaluations, and they try not to bat an eye when one of you leaves the room with the other following suit moments later. For everyone’s sake, they keep their questions to themselves.

But after Mission 3, when you didn’t receive an invitation to move forward in the competition, they all held their breath. Everyone’s eyes land on Megan as if bracing for the impact that would soon follow. But she stayed where she was, not even taking a glance at you as your hands turned into tight fists. They all wondered if that was worse.

You manage to keep yourself together when you get back to the dorms to pack your things. Once you finish, you throw yourself onto your now stripped bed. You couldn’t believe that your time in Dream Academy has come to an end. You stare up at your ceiling as a million thoughts run through your mind.

Megan, at some point, joins you and lies next to you. She reaches over you to place a hand on your cheek, turning your head so you can face her, and your heart breaks when you see the sadness in her eyes. You close the space between you two, kissing her softly.

You don’t know what this is with her. But you hope it won’t change once you’re gone.

Megan pulls away and rests her forehead against yours. She looks at you with her brown, puppy-dog eyes, and you can’t help but melt under her gaze. “Will you still text me when you’re gone?” She whispers, and the question makes you chuckle. You nod and place a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Megan bites her lip in response, and you can tell she’s trying to contain her tears. You sigh, removing your hand from her shoulder to cup her cheeks with both hands. “I’ll call you all the time. You’ll be so sick of me.” She giggles, and it’s music to your ears. She raises her pinky in front of you, her expression becoming serious.

“Promise you’ll call, Y/n L/n. I’m in your walls.” It’s your turn to laugh as you connect your pinky with hers, a sincere look in your eyes. You whisper, “I promise, weirdo.” Megan sticks her tongue out at you before raising your pinky to her lips, placing a soft kiss against your skin.

She murmurs against your hand, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.”

You have the urge to ask her if that’s all you are to her. If you two really are just best friends. But you didn’t want to risk the way she looks at you as if you were everything she had ever dreamed of. You opt for blissful ignorance despite how much it hurts to do so.

“You’re my best friend, Megan.”

II.

You two sit on your spot at the pier together, looking up at the stars. Your shoulders are touching, and the proximity makes you feel lightheaded. The scent of her shampoo overwhelms your senses, and her perfume makes it a million times worse.

Usually, you welcome her company like this. But as she talks about the absolute most horrid date she ever went on, you can’t help but feel detached from her. She waves her hands animatedly as she complains about the boy she saw and how their time together just kept getting worse. You nod passively at every other word, only speaking when it feels right to do so.

Megan notices the shift in your demeanor and rests her chin on your shoulder, looking at you with concern. “Sorry… I’ve said a lot…” You shake your head quickly, turning toward her with a small smile. “No, you’re okay. I’m just… Thinking.” She furrows her brows at your words and sits up.

She tilts her head and reaches out to you, putting her hand in yours. Megan squeezes gently. “Thinking about what?” She asks quietly. The question lingers in the air with only the sounds of the crashing waves being heard. You look away from the girl, your attention drawn to the rising tide.

“You’re gonna be a popstar…” You hear yourself saying. What you actually want to tell her is that there has not been a day when you haven’t thought about what you two could be if given the chance. You want to tell her how your heart sinks every time she brings up a new date she went on.

There are so many things you wish you could tell Megan, but you trust that fate would make its rounds– that this is all according to plan.

But, you do admit, the thought of your best friend becoming a celebrity runs through your mind every once in a while. After leaving Dream Academy, Megan tried her best to keep in contact with you despite always being busy doing one thing or the other. It led to many of your texts going unanswered, but she was always good about calling you after a long day, ranting about the latest thing that happened at the dorms or practice.

But now, since officially earning her spot in the group, Megan has become busier than ever. She no longer calls you as often, and every few days, you’d receive a text from the girl, apologizing for not answering you sooner.

It bothers you more than you like to admit, but this is everything she has ever wanted, so you’ve pushed your true feelings aside.

She looks at you tiredly. You notice the bags underneath her eyes and how her smile doesn’t have its usual brightness. Her voice is hoarse as she speaks, “I’m gonna be a popstar… How fucking crazy.” She says the last part with a laugh, looking up at the sky. You stare at her with a worried expression.

“Are you… Okay?” You find yourself asking, and Megan faces you again, forcing a smile. She nods, but you see right through her facade. You clasp a hand over hers, squeezing gently as if to tell her, “I’m here. I’ve always been here.” And you hope she hears every word. You sit there in silence, the sound of the breeze and waves is the only background noise. You decide not to say anything more, hoping your existence would be enough.

God, you hope more than anything that your existence means something to Megan.

Suddenly, Megan pulls you into a tight embrace. Her hands grip the back of your sweater, and she buries her face into the crook of your neck. You respond immediately, wrapping your arms around her. You feel her tears against your neck, and you hold her even tighter, your head against her shoulder. You sit silently, allowing her to release the emotions she has had pent up for God knows how long.

After a few minutes, Megan’s sobs have subsided, and you stay there in each other’s arms, not daring to let go. She keeps her grasp on your shirt as if afraid you might disappear again. Finally, she takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to look at you with red and swollen eyes. You look back at her, helpless, unsure of how to make her pain go away.

You don’t even think when you bring your hand up to her face, cupping her cheek gently. You use the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears that are left. Megan leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering close. “Y/n?” She whispers. You notice how she closes her eyes tighter and her lips trembles as she continues, “I just– I– Fuck.” She struggles to get her words out. You hold your breath, your free hand resting on her knee as you wait patiently for her to finish her thought.

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. “I just wish Adela or Emily were here.”

You retract your hand from her knee. Something about her words knocks the wind out of you. She doesn’t notice your pained expression and giggles, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I have to get a boyfriend or something so I don’t keep bothering you with my bullshit.”

You force a smile and stand up, ignoring the way your heart twists and thrashes in your chest. “Shut up and take me back home.” You say, trying to compose yourself. You stretch your arms before offering Megan your hands, to which the Chinese girl accepts gratefully. You pull her up to her feet quickly, causing Megan to slip slightly on the pier beneath you.

She grabs onto your shoulders tightly to regain her balance. Your eyes widen, and you wrap your arms securely around her waist, pulling her close. Your breath hitches slightly when Megan looks up at you, her brown eyes twinkling. She giggles, mumbling a quiet, “Sorry.” You shake your head in response, still looking into her eyes. Megan keeps your gaze, the smile on her face falling slightly as she realizes how close you two are.

Megan’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips for a split second, but you notice.

It’s been months without her lips on yours, and it has been driving you crazy.

You lean in slowly, your heart beating faster. Your eyes flutter close when Megan leans in as well, your noses brush against each other, and you can feel Megan’s breath become shallow.

She tastes like cherries, not like the strawberry chapstick she always puts on.

Her hands messily thread through your hair and pulls you closer. She sighs into the kiss, and it only spurs you on even more, grabbing her hips. You lose yourself in the way her lips move against yours, and you hope, in this moment, she forgets about everyone else. You deepen the kiss in an attempt to make sure she is only thinking about you.

After a few moments, you pull away, breathless, and your cheeks flush. Megan looks at you, biting her lip. You look into each other’s eyes, and it frustrates you when you can’t read her expression. You just want, for once, for Megan to choose you. To look at you and realize you were right there, right in front of her, choosing her.

But she turns away, skipping towards her car as if the events that just transpired didn’t happen. You take a sharp breath, feeling slightly betrayed by fate and its games.

III.

You find yourself being dragged to Emily’s birthday party.

You weren’t too sure of going in the first place. After months of dwelling on a decision, you decided to enroll in a college in Los Angeles to stay close to the friends you made during Dream Academy. Now that you were a full-time student, you struggled to find a balance in your life. If you felt lost before, you were now deep in the trenches, trying to juggle school work with a social life. And to make things worse, you couldn’t help but feel as though your best friend was once again slipping through your fingertips.

After their song blew up all over social media, it has become much harder to contact the now ginger girl. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw Megan, despite living in the same city. With Katseye’s growing success, you knew it would bring change to your dynamic with the girl. But as the months began to pass, you started to see yourself as an afterthought to Megan. She wasn’t even the one who asked you if you were going to the party– it was Lara.

But against all odds, you decide to go. The night ends up being a bit of a blur. You decided to take an edible right before to calm your nerves, and now you lazily sit on one of the lawn chairs in front of a fire pit while everyone is lost in their own conversations. Karlee sits next to you, smoking a blunt you helped roll for her.

You and the Japanese girl catch up with each other, giving updates on what has been missed since your last interaction. You can’t help but wonder why you never reached out to Karlee after Dream Academy. You remember her being a great friend to you, always sticking up for you when something distasteful would be said about you.

At some point during the conversation, Karlee’s hand finds yours. She plays with your fingers absentmindedly as she complains about recent drama in her life. You listen in and out, becoming distracted every once in a while by Megan.

You watch as she dances with Lara, Manon, and Emily. At some point, Daniela joins them, and so does Adela. But your eyes remain on the Chinese girl. You watch as the girl moves her hips to the song, getting lost in the rhythm. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch your best friend throw her head back, smiling. Her features are lit up by the fire, her ginger hair swaying along with her. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. You can’t believe how attractive Megan is, and you can’t believe how much it still affects you.

You force yourself to look away, not wanting Karlee to pick up on your blatant staring. You’re relieved when you look back at the Japanese girl, and she’s still talking, unaware of your internal battle. You look at the blunt in Karlee’s hand and point at it. You smile lazily, your eyes slightly glazed over as you speak, “Can I take a hit?” Karlee looks at the blunt and nods, laughing softly. She is about to pass it over, but she takes it back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She speaks up, her voice teasing, “Have you ever done a blowback?”

The question throws you off guard, and it makes you think for a moment. You look at Karlee, tilting your head with a curious look in your eyes. You decide to play into the game, however. You shrug and say, “Once… Are you asking to do one?” The statement makes Karlee look away, surprised by your question. She scoots her chair closer to you and looks back to see a smirk on your lips, still waiting for Karlee to answer the question.

For some reason, you feel bold in your interaction with Karlee. It’s a way for you to forget Megan and her avoidance of you, but you don’t want to admit that. You want the reason to be because Karlee is attractive, and she is giving you her undivided attention.

You watch the Japanese girl nod her head in response and suddenly, your confidence begins to falter at the realization of the many people around you. The other Dream Academy girls were only a few feet away. But Karlee moves the chair so she is now sitting in front of you. She looks at you to see if you had any hesitation in your eyes, but she only sees the lazy look in them, a playful smile on your lips.

It causes Karlee to giggle, and you raise a brow in response. You whisper, “What’s so funny?” Karlee shakes her head, responding just as quietly, “Nothing. Just… Look at me…” You do as you are told, and you look at Karlee, swallowing when you realize what’s going to happen. You watch as Karlee takes a long hit from the blunt and immediately looks into your eyes as she places her hands on your cheeks, her fingertips warm.

Instinctively, you part your lips and watch as Karlee leans in closer, your noses brushing against each other. Your eyes don’t leave each other once Karlee begins to exhale while you inhale slowly. There’s a tension between you two, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it. You’re sure Karlee has finished, but neither of you pulls away. You watch Karlee’s eyes flutter close, and against all rational thoughts, you close yours as well, leaning in closer.

However, before the moment can develop even further, you feel a weight in your lap and a pair of arms looping around your neck. You open your eyes, widening them when you see Megan with her puppy eyes staring down at you. You open and close your mouth, a bit at a loss for words.

You watch Megan look over at Karlee, who doesn’t look very happy that the moment between you two was interrupted. There’s a playful glint in Megan’s eyes as she holds you tighter. She speaks up, a giggle in her voice, “Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just needed to tell Y/n something…” Your cheeks redden when you feel the Chinese girl grip the back of your shirt. You wrap your arms around the girl’s waist, securing her in your lap. The action makes Megan look down at you with a soft smile and she begins to tell you about something she heard from Adela and Emily.

You feel Megan run her fingers through your hair and you listen to every word she says. As if she is the only girl that exists.

As if you didn’t almost kiss Karlee.

She pushes you up against the bathroom door, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss.

Your hands instinctively grab her hips, pulling her closer as she desperately grips your shirt with her fists. Her lips move against yours in a rhythm that makes you feel lightheaded. The quiet noises she makes as you grip her hips tighter fill you with the need for more.

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks at you with flushed cheeks and desire in her eyes. “I didn’t realize you and Karlee were that close.” Her words cause you to let out a breathy chuckle.

“We’re talking about Karlee right now?” You ask, leaning down to press feather-light kisses against her neck. She sighs, and you feel her grip on your shirt loosen. Her fingers thread into your hair as she cranes her neck slightly to give you more access. “You guys just seemed really cozy, you know?” You hum against her neck, pulling away to look at her with an amused expression.

You tilt your head and smile at her playfully. “Does it matter?” You challenge, suddenly feeling brave due to the rising tension between you two. Megan bites her lip and shakes her head. “I was just wondering…” She trails off, leaning up to kiss you again, but you don’t give her the chance, tilting your head away from her. Megan looks at you questioningly and places her hands on your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You furrow your brows at her. You can’t help but think everything about this was wrong. The way she tries to avoid situations, the way she thinks she can kiss you and pretend it doesn’t mean anything. You begin to feel bitter when you remember how, before your almost-kiss with Karlee, Megan barely acknowledged your existence. And suddenly, none of this seems fair to you.

“Admit it…” You say shakily. She looks at you with confusion written on her face. She opens her mouth to respond, but you quickly continue, finding your voice, “You’re jealous.” Megan immediately jumps away from you once she hears your words. She glares at you and whispers, “What the hell are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes.

“You’re jealous of Karlee because this means something to you.”

You stare at each other in silence. It’s as if you two were daring the other to say another word.

“I gotta go.” You hear her say. She avoids your eyes, stepping forward and attempting to push you away from the door, but you keep your feet planted where they are. You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, looking at her incredulously. “Why can’t we have a real conversation about this?”

Megan’s cheeks turn red as she responds, her voice raised, “About what?”

“You know what!” You yell, throwing your hands up in the air in agitation. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Megan!”

You feel hot tears spill from your eyes as you look at her, pleading for her to love you back. Megan bites her lip and looks down at the ground. She murmurs, “I can’t do this.” Your lips form a thin line as your hand reaches behind you, grabbing the handle to the door. You whisper, your voice breaking, “Tell me to stay. Please.” You shake your head frantically when Megan keeps her eyes on the ground. You take a deep breath, your grip on the handle tightening. “Megan… Tell me I’m not a second choice to you, please.”

You look at Megan, a pleading look in your eyes. You don’t care how pathetic you look, you just need to know if Megan still cares. You desperately want to know if this really wasn’t in your head the entire time, and that fate was still on your side.

Her silence makes you slump your shoulders. Your eyes soften, and whatever fight you had left goes away. Your grip on the handle loosens, stepping away from the door so she can make her exit. She looks up at you with glistening eyes, and you simply force a smile. “I can’t leave. So, you can.”

With no hesitation, Megan goes without another word.

IV.

You don’t hear from Megan after Emily’s party. You watch her life unfold through Instagram pictures and updates given by her other members. They don’t ask you about what happened, and you’re grateful.

You felt as though you were grieving. She’s alive and happy and has everything she could ever want, and she was able to do it all without your help.

A photo of her surfaces on your timeline, and it’s of her at a party with other influential people in Los Angeles. You stare at the photo of her mid-laugh with a drink in her hand. She seemed as though she was in her element, and you realized how far apart you were from the girl you fell in love with.

Your phone buzzes with a notification, and you see it’s a message from Karlee. She asks if you are free to get coffee sometime.

You tell her that you’re always free. That coffee sounds lovely. And that you’ll see her next Thursday.

Fate sits in a locked box beneath your bed. It thrashes and screams and begs for another chance. But you have coffee with Karlee next Thursday, and that is how it will be.

“Y/n, is it true you’re going to Hawaii to meet Karlee’s family?”

It’s been a year since you last spoke to Megan, and she now sits across from you with Lara, her legs crossed, and her hair is now black with pink dyed bangs and tips. You can’t help, as you look at her, that she resembles the Megan you knew from Dream Academy. The one who struggled with her confidence and didn’t feel good enough for anything. Despite everything, you hope she feels differently.

You hope she knows how beautiful she looks.

Karlee rests her head against your shoulder and hugs your arm tightly. She leans up and kisses your cheek softly, causing you to smile. It doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but the Japanese girl chose you, and that’s what matters the most to you.

You nod at Lara’s question, taking a sip from your drink. You feel Megan’s eyes on you, but you ignore her as you respond. “Yeah, we’re leaving in a few days…” You hear Karlee squeal excitedly next to you. She looks at the two girls with a wide smile on her face. “I’m gonna show them everything. They’ve never been, so it’ll be fun.” Lara smiles at Karlee, then looks at you. There’s a glint in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher.

“Honestly, I always thought it would be Megan who would take Y/n.” You know it’s a joke, but you can’t help but wince at her words. You glance at the Chinese girl who seems to be deep in thought. You fight the urge to ask her if she’s okay. But you know it isn’t your place to ask– she made that clear to you. Karlee laughs at Lara’s words and takes a sip from her drink. You feel her tug at your sleeve, and you look at your girlfriend, who looks back at you with adoration, with so much love that you can’t help but feel guilty for wanting to check on Megan.

She inches her face closer to yours and says, “Come with me to get another drink?” You nod, smiling when she gets up from the couch and holds her hand out to you. You take one more look at Lara, then at Megan. “It’s nice seeing you guys again.” Megan looks at you with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It almost looks like longing, but you know better than to overanalyze. You take Karlee’s hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. She kisses you softly before pulling you away from the girls. From Megan.

A few minutes have passed since the conversation with you and Karlee, but Megan stays where she is on the couch. She leans her back against it, her mind running chaotically. She glances over at you standing with Karlee and Adela and notices a subtle sullen look in your eyes. The usual twinkle in them seems dim, and Megan wants more than anything to go up to you and ignite that light. But she knows it isn’t her place anymore. Megan made her choice, she made her decisions.

Megan looks down at the drink in her lap, biting her lip. She thinks about how she accidentally walked into your dorm on that first day. She remembers how there was a time when it would be you and her against the world. No one saw you two separated because you were always right there with her every step of the way. You never left her, even when she pushed you away.

She looks up again, and her breath hitches when her eyes meet yours. You stare at her for a moment before smiling softly. There’s a twinkle in your eyes, and it reminds her of the day you walked up to her outside the Geffen building.

The voices of everyone else, the loud conversations, are all tuned out in this moment. Megan only sees you.

And suddenly, it all starts to click.

That day, and everything else after, was fate.

You: cant believe u left this place wtf

You: it’s so beautiful!!!!

Megan stares at the messages from you, a small smile on her face. She can’t help but feel a bitterness starting to fester in the pit of her stomach.

Megan: had to chase my dreams :)

Megan: im glad ur having fun!

After Karlee’s party, she decided to reach out to you, not expecting a response. However, you welcomed the message with open arms. It was as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. But Megan knew something was different. She knew this time around, it wouldn’t be how it used to be.

You: so much fun!!

Megan: go surfing for me?

When Megan first met you, she knew deep down you’d change her life somehow. But you wove yourself so deep into it that it scared Megan. She was scared of something so real and raw, something that would force her to show the sides of herself that she tries so hard to hide.

But she would have dropped everything she had ever worked for in a heartbeat for you. And maybe that’s why she pushed you away.

Megan: also take pics of everything bc i miss it sm

Megan: only if u can ofc

Because why does a person like that exist? A person you’d give everything up for? Why would someone do something so stupid? Especially when they’re just so close?

Megan: can i ask u something?

Megan: it’s a weird question LOL

But no one told her she could have chosen you and have everything in between. Fate hadn’t caught up to her yet, and she could only blame herself for being a coward.

You: yeah what’s up?

Megan: r we still like… friends?

Megan lies in her bed that night wearing an old hoodie of yours that no longer holds your scent. She feels tears brim in her eyes as she thinks about you being with Karlee. Her heart breaks at the thought of you being in Hawaii with Karlee and not her.

You: ur my best friend, meg. always.

Megan: ur mine always too, y/n

She stares at her ceiling and thinks about your hand in hers, your soft smile, the way you stay every single time.

She wonders if fate will ever come back. She’d take it back and never leave again.

Megan: can you call?

You: cant rn. gonna hang out w karlee’s fam :)

You: talk to you later?

Megan sends a response that makes her heart ache in her chest.

Megan: yeah, i’ll wait for you <3

a/n: im back n im making it everyone's problem >:) this was my attempt at megan angst oops i hope u all enjoyed....... i promise megan fluff soon!! <3

requests are open

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

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 7 months ago

Note

can you do some headcanons about no nut november with the league? like how long they would last??

i love your writing and thank you🙏🏻😭

This can be for both my series A Day in Life to just regular JL X Reader scenario, and both yandere and not yandere

Superman:

He could last three weeks if he wanted to, honestly

Like, if he's single, and not in love

But if you guys are together? The first week he has sex with you

Less than 7 days, I think, he won't deny you if you want to have sex

Batman:

He accidentally lasts two weeks

Accidentally? How so? Well, let me explain

I don't think Canon!Bruce is taking time off his very strict routine just to masturbate, so he probably just loses when he has to keep appearances for the public and have to go on a date with someone famous

Unless he's in love with you, then he masturbates on the second week, I give him 10 days

And if he's dating you? Pff, doesn't last enough to the end of the first week, five days maybe

Wonder Woman:

If this woman was actually into this dumb silly challenge, you can be sure she would win

Even if she's seduced

But Diana Prince, Princess of Themyscira, Amazon born from Clay, Daughter of Hippolyta and Zeus, one of the greatest heroes on Earth

Why would she do that?

Especially if someone catches her attention…

Could be anywhere from a day to a month, indifferent loss to accidental win

Green Lantern:

A week

Canon!Hal Jordan dates a lot, so you can't tell me his sex drive isn't high

And if he's with you and someone reminds him about this challenge? Doesn't make it 24 hours, just to rub it in the face of the people who are actually trying to win this thing

Like, you're there suffering while I'm here getting laid every time I can😘😜

But he's also Green Lantern, his will power is so strong that in canon, when he gives up his ring, and doesn't want to be part of the lantern cops anymore, a situation where he needed to save himself happens, and his mind creates a new ring, one that seems even more powerful than regular lantern rings

So if he wanted to, he would win

Flash:

His body could take the challenge, I think, fast metabolism and all

Fanfic writers be like: fast metabolism🔥horny all the time😈

But in reality, his body is acting so fast that he goes from horny to not horny in a matter of milliseconds, so he doesn't feel anything unless he slows down

But his mind?

If he's in love and dating?

You seduce him and he's gone, he's not gonna say no

And fight crime wouldn’t stop him, he can be back in a flash

So, depends on you, I think

Aquaman:

Three days, unapologetic

Wants you? Fucks you

You don't want him back? That's fine, he will just masturbate

He's actually smug that he "lost", like Hal Jordan

The real winner is actually the real loser if you think about it

Martian Manhunter:

I don't see him as a very sexual being, tbh

Like, he could go the whole month

But if someone wants to have sex with him? Then he will do it

Three weeks

General masterlist

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

need need NEED more hop x reader w el they are the CUTEST

“So she’s coming?” El asks.

Hopper pushes a glass of orange juice in her direction. “Mm-hm.”

“And she wants to see me.”

“Yeah, kid, she wants to see you.”

Eleven’s hair curls just under her ears. Hopper hadn’t suspected her hair would be curly once it began to grow, but it waves gently, and tighter the longer it becomes. He doesn’t know how to take care of it. He only just taught her how to use shampoo and conditioner without leaving all the suds in.

She scratches it. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” He ruffles her hair. “Eat your breakfast. You can get changed when you’re done. You need me to help you find something?”

“No. I like choosing.”

Hopper knows. She isn’t good at matching yet, but she’ll get there.

She eats her breakfast too quickly, doesn’t drink her juice, and doesn’t put her plate in the sink before she goes, but Hopper doesn’t bother getting mad. He’s trying to be less moody. He’s also trying to be understanding; she’s learning to be a normal kid. Most normal kids are slobs.

“Can we have dessert?” El shouts from her room.

“You can have a snack later.”

“Please?”

“You can have some chips once you get dressed. Are you still hungry, or–?”

“Snacks,” she says, turning on her radio.

Hopper nods, laughing to himself when there’s a knock at the door. He’s been waiting to see you all weekend, and he walks to the door with a terrible smugness about him to let you in.

“Hello,” he says, wedging the creaky frame open with his shoe.

“Hi, handsome.” You look up into his eyes, fresh-faced like you’ve had a good scrub and dressed for a day in the house in cuffless sweatpants and a hoodie he thinks might be his. “Wow, nice shirt, hotshot. What is that? The Hawkins Police Department fun run of eighty two? That’s vintage.”

He leans down to kiss you hello.

“Oh, hi,” you flirt.

You’re confident when you know you’re loved, he’s found. Still the homespun woman he knew you to be, but affectionate once you’re comfortable. He smiles into your mouth and pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off of your feet for a millisecond before placing you back down.

“Where’s my girl?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“El?” you call. You slide around him to find her but turn back, “Did you ask her about the hugging?”

“She says it’s fine.”

“Like, she wants to?”

It had been a strange conversation. Hopper is used to telling El things, or being told things by her. He didn’t ask her what she likes for breakfast, he just kept guessing until he found the right stuff. She never asked him if she could sit in his side during movies, she just inched closer until he put his arm around her.

“She wants to,” Hopper says. She’d seemed perturbed by the question, sure, but it ended with her happy little smile through a handful of popcorn.

“El?” you call again.

“Kid! Your best friend is here!” Hopper shouts.

Thunder from her bedroom, a door swung open and slapping the wall. “Y/N?” she asks, the skirt of her dress swinging as she pauses in the doorway.

You smile and step forward. You’re tentative but excited all the same, laughing as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, and pat her back. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Where have you been? It’s two weeks.”

“Yeah? I didn’t mean to not see you for so long, I’m sorry.”

“Hop says you have lots to do.”

“There’s a leak in my bathroom,” you take her by the shoulders. “Aw, this is nice. When’d you get this? It’s light and summery.”

“Hop… from a catalogue.”

You raise your brows at him, grinning. “That’s nice. How many did you get?”

“We got five.”

“Five! From the catalogue!” You hold her hand. “Hop must really like you, huh? Who can blame him?”

El looks down at your joined hands. Hopper feels his skeptic heart softening. “He likes you, too.”

“But do we like him?” you joke, letting go of her hand to put your arm behind her back instead. You give Hopper a look.

“What?” he asks.

“I was thinking we’d go out for milkshakes?”

Hopper bites his tongue. El has a birth certificate now, she’s his daughter, she can’t be taken, but going out with her into the world draws stares and derision alike. People can tell she’s abnormal, and he can’t stand that. She doesn’t deserve to be gawked at for talking a little slowly, or messing with stuff she doesn’t understand.

But he doesn’t want her feeling punished for those things either.

“Get your jacket, El.” She beams, rushing for her room. “She’s gonna love the jukebox,” Hopper says.

You meander back into his arms, kissing his stubbly cheek. He pretends to nudge you away.

#jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x fem!reader #dad!jim hopper #dad!jim hopper x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fandom #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper fluff

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ghostlynightpanda · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! Can I request Chishiya x fem!reader who is like Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds? So she also has eidetic memory and high IQ etc. Sorry if something is unclear, my English is very bad, so I use a translator😔🙏🏻

Calculations of Trust

A/N: I’ve never watched Criminal Minds, but I still tried my best to write someone based on what I read about Spencer Reid online. I hope this fits his character the way you wanted!

Synopsis: Stranded in the deadly Borderlands, a brilliant and emotionally analytical woman teams up with the enigmatic strategist Chishiya, blending cold logic and empathy to outwit brutal games—forming a powerful alliance that could be their key to survival, and maybe something deeper beyond.

warnings/content: Chishiya x fem!reader, fluff, canon-typical blood and violence, 2.561 words

Part 2

The sky looked the same.

That was your first thought when arriving in this bizarre world. You weren't sure why that thought struck you first—why your brain zeroed in on cloud patterns and the familiar texture of summer heat against your skin. But when everything else felt wrong, your mind clung to something right. The skyline stretched over Tokyo, unchanged. But the silence—that was alien. Not a car, not a voice. Just the ghost of the city, paused mid-breath.

You took in your surroundings.

No people. No traffic. Just… nothing. You stood in the middle of a crosswalk, frozen, surrounded by still life. Abandoned phones buzzed with notifications that no one would answer.

Your mind kicked into gear. Eidetic memory activated.

Five minutes ago, you were running toward the subway, trying to catch the train after working a little later than usual.

You turned a corner. There was a flash—like fireworks.

And then— You were here.

In the middle of Tokyo. A city that once buzzed with life.

But now? Silence.

You weren't alone for long. A nearby explosion—a concussive boom of noise—jerked you into motion. You ran. Found others. Confused, shaken. They were like you: wrong time, wrong place, no memory of how this world replaced your own.

And then came the games.

Your hands shook. You were honest enough to admit that.

The first game was brute strength, speed, raw terror. Spades.

But even in fear, your brain remained loyal. You noticed the pattern in the balance plates before the man next to you slipped and got impaled. You memorized the tilt sensitivity after watching one test run. You counted the milliseconds between the trap triggers.

You didn't win because you were the fastest. You won because you didn't panic.

Now it was numbers.

The rules seemed random at first—red lights flashing in sequence, pressurized plates, a 3x3 grid.

But you saw it. The Fibonacci intervals in the flashes. The relationship between the pressure sensors and the golden ratio. It was coded math, and everyone was guessing.

You weren't.

You survived. Again.

One pair of eyes watched you the entire game, not with fear, or respect, but calculation. You didn't notice him yet but he noticed you.

The third game looked innocent—like a corporate team-building exercise on steroids.

Eight players. One tower. Ten floors. One room on each level. Each room held a puzzle that advanced you or eliminated you. No hints. Just "Solve or Die."

This was your domain.

The others bickered, shouting over each other as they failed on Floor Three's rotating sequence riddle.

You didn't shout. You stared.

"Wait," you said calmly, interrupting a panic spiral. "The door mechanism—look at the marks. Someone's already tried the wrong sequences. There's a pattern in the wrong answers."

They blinked.

You knelt, running your fingers across the scratch marks, whispering numbers under your breath.

"Floor Three's answer is 13. Fibonacci again. They're using mathematical sequences tied to human cognitive bias. Floor Four will use base-12 logic. Let me lead."

Some hesitated. Others followed.

You cleared the rest of the tower in under 20 minutes.

Every. Floor.

No casualties.

When the exit door slid open and everyone rushed into the light, cheering, you hung back. Breathing in. Processing.

And that's when you noticed him.

White hoodie. Platinum-blond hair. Lean frame. Calm.

He leaned against the wall near the game's edge like he'd never been concerned at all. His eyes didn't match the grin on his face—because the grin was casual, but the eyes were surgical.

"You weren't just solving," he said. His voice was light. Quiet. "You were analyzing the game designers themselves."

You stared at him, guarded.

He smiled wider. "Most people panic. You... profile."

You narrowed your eyes. "And you were watching."

"Observation is underrated," he said. "But then again, so is intellect."

He stepped forward, hands in his pockets.

"I'm Chishiya. And I think you're wasted out here, playing games for peasants."

"…Excuse me?"

"There's a place. A stronghold. The Beach. We collect cards. Build power. I think you'll be a good asset."

Your stomach twisted at the word asset. But part of you knew: intelligence attracts opportunists. Still—something in his tone wasn't exploitative. More like… strategic alliance.

You considered him. He didn't seem like a follower. And you weren't one either.

But the look in his eyes? He saw the way your brain worked. And you saw his. And that made him the first person in this world who felt even remotely familiar.

"…Fine," you said. "But I'm not just muscle for your puzzle-hunt."

He gave a slight nod. "Of course not. You're far more interesting than that."

The Beach wasn't a sanctuary. It was a masquerade.

Everyone wore the same smile, drank from the same bottles, and pretended they weren't all one bad game away from bleeding out on concrete. You watched them from the railing above the pool deck, arms crossed, mind whirring.

You'd been here three days. Already mapped the layout, memorized exit points, analyzed the card collection gaps, and mentally categorized the power players by behavioral patterns. Hatter: Delusional narcissist. Aguni: latent trauma, soldier instinct. Niragi: dangerous—impulse-driven, no empathy. Kuina: calculating, adaptable.

And Chishiya?

Uncrackable.

He didn't talk to people. He examined them. You weren't excluded. In fact, he seemed particularly interested in you.

You kept your distance. Avoided the parties. Watched the Beach from the outside while living inside it. You preferred it that way.

But that didn't stop him.

He found you again.

On the rooftop at dusk. You were alone, mentally replaying a hearts game you hadn't played — just in case. Trying to guess how the designer might think. Preparing.

"I don't like wasting potential," came his voice behind you.

You didn't turn. "Then I assume this conversation has a purpose."

"I want to know how you think."

You turned now, facing him. "Why?"

"Because you don't react. Not the way most people do. You solve the problem and walk away." He tilted his head. "But then… you save people. Like our team in the Tower Logic game."

You met his gaze, cool and unreadable. "You observed all that the whole time?"

His smile curled. "Observation is underrated."

You didn't smile back. "So is empathy."

He said nothing, but his expression faltered—just barely.

The next game came.

Six players. Clubs game. Team strategy. You, Chishiya, Kuina, and three others you didn't recognize.

The arena was a circular facility—ten rooms branching off a central hub, each room holding part of a code that had to be assembled and entered into a control panel to stop a detonation countdown. Cooperation required. Pressure high.

You immediately stepped into role.

First: layout. Second: player observation. Third: behavior prediction. You mentally assigned roles within minutes, logging where each player went, how fast they moved, what patterns they repeated.

You whispered to Kuina at one point, directing her to Room 6. "The clues are mirrored. He's looking in the wrong spot. You'll find the second half of the cipher in the vent."

She blinked. "How the hell did you—"

You didn't answer. No time. You moved.

By the twelve-minute mark, you had memorized all four ciphers, identified the red herring rooms, and were correcting the errors of the weakest players—quietly, efficiently.

People began looking at you with something between awe and unease.

Everyone… except Chishiya.

He watched you with narrowed eyes, arms folded, expression unreadable. You couldn't tell if he was analyzing your method, or your motives.

The six of you survived. The bomb didn't go off.

You stayed behind in the lobby, alone again, scribbling numbers into the dust with your finger—reworking a hypothetical failure scenario.

Chishiya stepped into your periphery. "You had the solution at the halfway point."

You didn't look up. "Yes."

"But you kept feeding it to the others. Slowly. Piece by piece."

You finally looked at him. "Would you have rather I let them die?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "If efficiency is the goal, why not just input the code yourself and let the weak ones be removed?"

You studied him for a long second.

"Why save people?" he asked, voice light but sharp. "You're smart enough not to care."

You tilted your head.

"Emotion isn't weakness," you said calmly. "It's data, too. Empathy helps you predict behavior. Understand intent. If you ignore it, you're only seeing half the variables."

He stared at you.

You stared back.

Two brilliant minds. Opposing algorithms.

But for the first time, there was something like respect between you. Something mutual, if unspoken.

He turned to leave. "You're interesting," he said over his shoulder. "That's rare."

You didn't respond. Not out loud, anyway. But your next move was already forming.

And somehow, you knew: so was his.

The announcement still hung in the air.

Another high-ranked hearts game.

You felt the chill thread down your spine — not from fear, but from certainty.

This wasn't logic. Not just logic. It was trust. Emotion. Manipulation. A game designed to tear alliances apart.

Your eyes flicked across the room. Eight players total. Circular arena. One glowing pedestal in the center, one screen above it.

Game Name: "Trust Fall."

Objective: One player is the traitor. Only the traitor knows they are the traitor. Everyone else must identify them correctly within 30 minutes. If the majority guesses wrong, all non-traitors die. If the traitor is correctly identified, they die. If no decision is made in time, everyone dies.

Timer: 30:00.

You exhaled slowly.

Someone muttered behind you, already accusing someone else.

You didn't flinch.

You weren't afraid.

Because Chishiya was here.

And he wasn't talking, either.

It turned ugly fast.

One girl started crying. A man began shouting at another, pointing fingers. Everyone was looking for tells — shifting eyes, nervous hands.

But the traitor? Might not be nervous at all.

You stayed still, listening. Absorbing.

So did he.

At one point, your eyes met across the room. Not a word. Just a nod — the barest flicker of recognition that said: You're watching the same patterns I am.

You moved closer. Quietly. Avoiding attention.

"They're emotionally reactive," you whispered to Chishiya when you were close enough. "We need a baseline of behavior before paranoia infects it all."

"Already too late," he murmured back. "They're spiraling."

"We isolate. Compare responses. Narrow it down by contradiction."

He nodded once. "Together, then."

It was brutal, in its design. Every ten minutes, you were allowed to interrogate one person as a group. It was chaos.

So you and Chishiya ran it like a silent operation.

You led the questioning. Calm. Cool. Clinical. You asked for timelines, movement patterns, memory details.

He watched them. Every microexpression. Every inconsistency.

"I saw her move toward the pedestal earlier," one player said.

"She said she didn't," Chishiya countered softly, almost amused. "But you did."

The woman froze.

Bit by bit, the lies unraveled.

But the closer you got, the more the others turned on you.

"You two think you're better than us," someone spat. "You act like you already know everything."

You stepped forward. "No. We just don't let fear do our thinking for us."

But they didn't want calm.

They wanted blood.

Twenty Seconds Left

Only two options remained: the woman, or the man next to her.

The others were screaming at each other.

You and Chishiya stood shoulder to shoulder.

"It's her," you said softly. "She slipped up. Three minutes ago, she said the clue was in the screen prompt. But that was only visible after the first vote. She couldn't have known that... unless she was the traitor."

He paused. Nodded slowly.

"Agreed."

"But we'll need at least one more vote to swing the majority."

Chishiya looked at you. A rare flicker of uncertainty passed through his expression. "What if we're wrong?"

You didn't hesitate.

"We're not."

He smiled. Just a little. Then turned to the others.

"You're all too busy panicking," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. "You missed the only actual tell."

Then he pointed at the woman.

The votes followed.

She screamed. Denied it. Begged.

The screen flashed red.

TRAITOR IDENTIFIED. GAME CLEAR.

The door to the arena hissed shut behind the others. Silence returned. Heavy. Absolute.

You didn't move. Neither did he.

The digital clock on the wall blinked back zeroes. You watched it for a moment, eyes unfocused, as if the weight of the aftermath had only now begun to register. Not fear — just the gravity of the choices you made.

Chishiya stood to your left, arms still crossed, but there was no smugness, no satisfaction in his posture. Just that same unreadable calm. Like the sea before a storm.

"You hate relying on people," he said, voice quiet in the echoing space.

You tilted your head toward him. "So do you."

A small breath escaped him. Not a laugh, exactly — more like the exhale of someone surprised by how unsurprising something feels.

"But we didn't lose," he said.

"No," you agreed, stepping slowly into the center of the room. "We didn't."

Your eyes trailed the lines in the floor, where earlier you'd stood with half the group ready to turn on you. People break fast in games like this. You understood why. But it still left a taste in your mouth you couldn't quite name.

He followed, hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie.

"We won easily," he added after a pause, as though testing the shape of that truth.

You stopped, turning to face him fully now. "Not easily. Efficiently."

He gave a soft shrug. "With everyone else flailing in panic, I'd call it easy."

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying we make a good team?"

Chishiya didn't answer immediately. He looked at you, and this time the gaze lingered — not with calculation, but something deeper. Curiosity. Understanding. The faintest trace of something warmer.

"Better than good," he said. "Strategically, you're the only one I can work with who doesn't slow me down."

Your lips curled slightly. "High praise. Coming from you."

He gave you a glance, dry but not unkind. "Don't let it go to your head."

You turned your attention to the dim hallway ahead, the path back to the Beach. The false security. The chaos waiting in the next game.

"You want to keep working together," you said, more a conclusion than a question.

"Yes," he answered. No hesitation. "Until we get out of this world."

You were silent for a moment. Then, you asked — quieter — "And after?"

Chishiya looked at you. Really looked at you.

And for once, his answer wasn't immediate. His eyes searched yours, as if weighing something unspoken. You wondered what he saw: a mirror of his own isolation, or something that cracked through the cold logic you both wrapped yourselves in like armor.

"Maybe," he said finally. Simple. Honest.

Not a promise. But possibility.

You let the silence stretch between you again — not uncomfortable, just full.

Then, finally, you turned toward the exit. He walked beside you, footsteps syncing in a rhythm neither of you acknowledged but somehow matched anyway.

Two minds. Sharp. Calculating. Unrelenting.

But now—aligned.

And beneath all that logic, beneath the masks of detachment you both wore so well, something else had started to take root.

Not trust, exactly.

But the beginning of it.

And perhaps, someday, more.

Masterlist

#alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya fluff #chishiya alice in borderland #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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dreamwavesexploringreality · 10 months ago

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MISTAKES

Chishiya x reader

TW: Angst, mentions of death.

Based on a request: Chishiya pushes the reader away and regrets it

Another night, another game, another massacre. Chishiya emerged from the building where the game had taken place with an impassive face and a strange feeling of heaviness inside. He had been the only survivor, doing whatever was necessary to leave that place alive, as always. But for some reason, something felt different this time.

Chishiya took a brief breath, feeling the cold night air filling his lungs painfully, temporarily soothing the ache that had settled in his heart.

Everything had seemed straightforward at first: Seven of diamonds with clear rules and a single objective: to reach the final level alone. The game was based on a vertical, structured system—a tower of choice. Seven players, seven floors, and seven levels, all starting from the first. Each level required solving an intellectual challenge to progress, but the difficulty increased as fewer people could continue with each level: only six could pass the first, only five the second, and so on until only one reached the top of the tower and survived the game. Although it was possible to intervene to help others, this only put oneself at a disadvantage. Sharing answers reduced resources, making it more challenging to solve the subsequent exercises. In reality, it was all about leaving people behind; being selfish was the most sensible strategy to reach the top of the tower alone, ensuring no one else did. But then, why couldn’t he look into the eyes of those he left behind? Why did he question, for a millisecond, helping that young man struggling with a simple task? Chishiya knew the answers to those questions, though it pained him to admit it. But… What if she had been there that night? Would she have died like all the others? Would he have survived? These unanswered questions haunted his mind, awakening ruthless fears he had locked away during his time in Borderlands.

The walk back to The Beach seemed shorter than expected when he lifted his head and saw the huge, neglected entrance of the hotel. It exuded a sepulchral silence, contrasting with the clamor and scandal that usually emanated from the building during daylight or party nights. In the stillness of the night, Chishiya could hear, like silent echoes, the voices of those who had lost their lives in the game, and the ghostly scent of blood that painted each floor of the tower reached his nose, carried by a gentle breeze.

“Chishiya!” A voice jolted him from his introspection. “Chishiya! You’re back early; I knew you would be!” The man felt a pair of arms encircle him, nearly cutting off his breath. The familiarity of the embrace, instead of comforting or offering refuge, immediately produced a feeling of rejection, and he freed himself with a swift motion, pushing the surprised girl a few steps back.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said abruptly, with a coldness he didn’t usually use with her, and moved towards the hotel’s interior. Y/N followed him, running in a way that Chishiya interpreted as that of a lost puppy. The idea almost made him vomit. What if one day he didn’t come back? What if she died? What if she died… because of him?

“What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N bombarded him with questions, trying to keep up with his pace to his room.

Chishiya remained cold, walking firmly as if he didn’t hear her, and when he opened the door to his room and stepped inside, he turned to look at her. “Definitely a lost puppy,” he thought to himself as he observed the girl’s face twisted in a grimace of doubt and insecurity.

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he said briefly, and she felt as if he had just shot her heart.

“But… but what about the goodnight hug? We can… we can lie in bed and just hold each other! You don’t have to talk!” The woman’s tone sounded desperate, pathetic from her perspective, but she couldn’t help it. She needed it, needed to know he was there, that he had returned alive from the game and that… he cared.

But Chishiya closed the door without answering her pleas or looking at her a second time. Maybe he didn’t care for her as much as she thought… or maybe he didn’t care for her as much as she cared for him.

Y/N stood for a few seconds in front of the closed wooden door, hearing the man moving around inside the room. She heard the shower start running and Chishiya moving around the room, probably looking for a new swimsuit, completely ignoring the woman he had left with tear-streaked face and a broken heart on the other side of the door.

That night, Chishiya couldn’t sleep. Each time he managed to overcome insomnia, a dreadful nightmare seized his mind, waking him with gasps and sweat. He saw himself in the game he had played that night, but instead of the other players, it was Y/N who was there. They were both on the penultimate level, knowing only one would reach the top and survive. The puzzle was easy, but for some reason, the girl couldn’t solve it, and then his mind grew dark. He saw himself giving a correct answer that he couldn’t even hear with his racing heartbeat pounding in his throat. He looked into her eyes as they turned gray, white, lifeless. He watched her body fall to the ground with a great thud and saw her head bounce against the floor until it finally lay still. Then her mouth would open, and heavy words would pour out of the building’s speakers at full volume, as thick tears streamed from her lifeless eyes, soaking her face and creating a large puddle around her. “You killed me,” “It’s your fault,” “I hate you,” “I wish I’d never met you”… And he cried. He cried in his dreams because he was losing her and woke up with a damp trace on his cheek. Only the moon witnessed his own heartbreak in that cold and lonely hotel room, and when dawn came, with the first rays of light filtering through the room’s curtains, he realized how wrong he had been all along.

----------

Hey everyone!✨

I just finished writing a new piece based on a request I received. I might have taken a few creative liberties... but I got really into the story and let it flow in its own direction😅.

If you enjoy it and want to see where the story goes next, let me know! Your feedback could lead to a second part, so if you're interested let me know 🌟👀!

Thanks for reading and for all your support!

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romypearl · 1 year ago

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The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: None, for now

Word count: +1400

Unrevised

She's boring.

Very annoying.

A total waste of time.

Sometimes seems to live on Mars.

And Regina George doesn't know why she wants to get her attention so badly.

When their gazes met a few weeks earlier in the cafeteria and Y/N greeted her as if she were any other human, well, the blonde has to admit that she felt her stomach lurch into an unfamiliar sensation and all the air being knocked out of her lungs. She had never seen her in North Shore, nor in the city, and it was annoyingly difficult to discreetly find out anything about the new student, after all, she never shows interest in anyone, it's always the other way around. However, as fate would have it, she soon found out that they shared some classes. That's how she knew her name, age, that she's not from Evanston and is very close to fucking Janis 'Imi'ike, with hands intertwined as they cross the tumultuous corridors and play with each other's hair, telling inside jokes. Damn it, it's only the third week and they're joined at the hip. And she's never looked at or waved to Regina in the same way, most of the time she seems almost oblivious to her existence.

The tray seems more interesting than the latest random conversation at the table, she plays with the scattered French fries and sips the diet coke. Thoughts wander far away, full of memories and expectations too, she hasn't seen her all day, soon it will be their shared lesson and she can't stop thinking about the reasons for her absence. If something serious has happened, if she's sick or... skipping class to make out with someone, which is something almost everyone does. But with whom?

Loud laughter breaks her trance, Damian tries to hold back a laugh while Janis hugs Y/N and has a hand over her mouth, trying to stop her from laughing any louder, even though she can't stop herself. The trio are walking to their usual table, ignoring everyone around them. It annoys her to the bone, how easy it is for them to get her attention, to make her laugh. Suddenly, the newbie turns her face in their direction and she could swear she felt her heart stop beating for a millisecond only to start beating 10 times faster, watching her break away from the group and walk towards the Plastics.

"Hi, girls!" she greeted the four with a wave of a hand, ignoring their lack of response, and opened a wide smile, which surprised them with its "boldness". For a moment the blonde thought Y/N would turn and speak directly to her, try to get closer, to have her attention, but she turned to Heron and squatted down, handing over a book, dozens of post-its marking the pages "Here it is, I made some notes and the colors of the bookmarks are my reactions. Hopefully you'll like it as much as I do."

"Thanks! I'll get back to you as soon as I've finished." Cady appreciates it and returns the warm smile, however, the queen bee doesn't miss her cheeks blushing slightly at the brief interaction, making her roll her eyes in disgust "I couldn't find any other copies..."

Regina watches with a mixture of disdain and envy, Y/N should be paying attention to her and only her, not some worthless girl who has just ascended the high school social hierarchy. At the same time, her anxiety barely lets her think, she has never been so close before, she can smell the floral perfume permeating the atmosphere and see the small details of the skin she longs to touch. But there is something she longs for more than that, and that is to get her away from Cady, to make it clear that she is superior and in control.

"You know, Cady, it's admirable that you're willing to sacrifice your free time to make a library rat feel validated." she cuts in, throwing out a biting comment, a forced smile plastered on her face and blue eyes directed at Y/N "But, frankly, I think she should spend less time with books and more learning how to dress without looking like a single 40-year-old librarian."

The sharp words echo through the cafeteria, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the air and all the cliques watching the scene unfold. The girl frowns, surprised and confused by the sudden hostility, and her smile falters. She really can't understand the reason for the gratuitous verbal aggression, she hasn't done anything to deserve such treatment, not even talked to anyone other than one person there before. Her friends didn't give her the same hierarchical speech and tips that they gave Heron, because, unlike her, they didn't see any potential in the other new student to stand out in Regina's eyes and quickly knew that it wouldn't do much good considering how oblivious she is, as well as how indifferent to groups she is. A being apart from the jungle of hormonal teenagers in search of social status.

Nobody expects her to respond, in fact, they believe the opposite will happen. They expect to see a puppy running around with its tail between the legs. Regina feels the temporary taste of triumph in her mouth and waits for her to turn around.

"And you should spend less time dressing up for Coachella and more time studying history, maybe then you'll get at least a C on an elementary school exam." Y/N shrugged and turned to her new friend "Tell me what you thought of the book..."

The beginning-of-semester test that the history teacher always gives to check the students' knowledge. It's this test that she's referring to, which Regina got an embarrassing F in, although it doesn't really bother her as it doesn't count as a formal grade. In contrast to her, the youngest scored an A+ and quickly excelled in the subject.

Another time, with someone else, the blonde was going to kill with one look. This time, to everyone's shock, she throws herself back in her chair and laughs out loud, head thrown back. It's genuine. Her kitten has sharp claws and knows how to use them. She hadn't imagined that the quiet, peaceful and compassionate Y/L/N could strike back at her, with her harmless appearance and silly expressions. It's little discoveries that make everything more fun.

Regina recovers and tilts her head slightly, lips curving into a subtle smile as she stares deeply at her, challenging. She's got the newbie's attention, as she's wanted for weeks, and now that she has it, it's time to put the pieces on the table, time to play.

"Oh, I see you know how to defend yourself. Well, princess, you should know that's not how people dress for Coachella. And that I don't need to prove myself in a stupid questionnaire." then leans over so that they're centimeters apart and whispers, "Now, if I teach you, maybe you'll learn something more interesting than history..."

The bait is thrown, a flirtatious double entendre in the middle of a cold discussion.

"I don't think there's anything you can teach me that I want to learn."

Once again, she has an answer on the tip of her tongue and isn't afraid to answer the queen bee straight. Y/N smiles and says goodbye to the group, turning her back to go to her own table, she's starving and can't wait to devour the pizza bought moments before. That's more important than arguing with a stranger over lunch. All that's left for Regina to do is watch her walk away and strategize how to keep the girl at arm's length.

It wasn't the quick and blunt answers or the fearless demeanor that captivated her, nor the appearance, she doesn't consider jeans and cute knitted cardigans anything special, much less the ridiculous Star Trek t-shirts worn in PE. She desperately wants to find out what it is, maybe then she'll stop being drawn like a moth to the light. When the newbie has disappeared into the crowd, Regina turns her attention back to her own table, where her friends are sitting in silence, too stunned to comment anything. Neither was she. The idea of leaving Y/N at her feet to stroke the ego and then despise her like she does everyone else is too pleasurable.

She sighs heavily and without thinking twice takes the book from Cady's hands, staring at the title with contempt. It's a beginning.

On the other side, Janis smiles to herself and exchanges a look with Damian, both coming to a conclusion quickly. In Regina George's game, they've always wanted to be ahead and finally they have the right pawn to do it.

Note: Hi, sweeties! I'm Romy and started writing again recently, that's why I'm a little rusty. Hope you enjoyed part one and see you soon in the sequel ^^ please share what you want to read and any ideas for this short fanfic, or one shots

english isn't my first language

#regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george #renee rapp #fluff #romypearl

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ayeetfreak · 13 days ago

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JUST THE COWORKER I HATE • JEY USO • PART FIVE

previous chapter :)

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

The fans were already screaming, and the event hadn't even started yet. It was Saturday, and my match wasn't until later on tonight. However, Jey was kicking off the show with his match against Gunther, and he had a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.

If Jey won tonight, he would be capturing his first ever singles world championship. He's always been known as a twin and part of a tag team his whole career, and tonight he has the chance to prove to everyone that he can be a singles star as well.

Ever since last night when Jey helped me out with my full-blown panic attack--and my sexual frustrations--I just couldn't seem to get enough of him. I woke up snug right up next to him, and it was the best feeling in the world. And the first thing we did after we woke up was having another round of mind-blowing, eyes-rolling-in-the-back-of-your-head sex.

We went to the arena separately, though. What we had going on was relatively new to us, and having so many people bombard us while we are supposed to be focusing on the biggest matches of our career would not have been the right way to go.

I was able to catch Jey before he went up to the concourse for his entrance. His head was dipped down, spraying water into his hair until the ends of his hair were dripping with pebbles of water. His head stayed down, but his eyes shifted over to the left where I was just approaching him. There was barely anyone around, other than backstage crew members hustling around making sure everything was in check.

“I was wonderin’ where you was at, sweetheart.” Jey spoke, standing up straight and ruffling his fingers through his hair to separate the curls. I smiled softly, taking my hand and stroking it through his hair myself. “Sorry, I was caught up talking to Liv. But I did want to catch up to you before you went out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, a knowing grin forming on his lips. I nodded, running my hands down his black, blue, and gold gear. “Yeah, wanted to wish you luck. I hope you win.”

Jey looked around the area, then his eyes dipped back down to me. He lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss on my head.

“Thank you, ma. I’ll be sure to catch you before your match.”

“Okay.” I replied softly, wrapping my arms around his muscular waist. His hands copied mine, rubbing circles on my lower back. He pulled me closer, until there wasn’t a whisper of space between us. I never, never thought I’d be hugging Jey Uso, ever. Let alone sleep with him.

But after these past few months of being forced to be around him 24/7, something has definitely shifted. I’ve been craving his presence. I’ve been craving his touch. And especially after he gave me the best orgasms of my life last night, I’ve been craving everything about him much more.

It was also the fact that he didn’t hesitate to end his night early to come back to the hotel room to help me with my panic attack. There was no frustration behind it. He wasn’t angry. He was there for me when I needed him most.

And that—that flipped a switch inside of me.

I left the hallway, rubbing my right ass cheek Jey slapped as I left, thinking it was funny. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t grinning like a damn fool all the way back to the locker rooms.

I was laser focused on Jey’s match. The crowd was behind him this whole feud, hyping him up during his entrances and making the whole arena shake with thunderous cheers. There were so many near falls that had me at the edge of my seat, especially when Jey was the one to kick out at the final millisecond.

I was alone in the locker room. Many of the girls liked hanging out in catering or other areas backstage, so I had the room to myself. That gave me the fortunate opportunity to react in any way I could. I could stare at the devastatingly handsome man on the monitor and not get caught doing so.

Jey suddenly trapped Gunther in the sleeper hold, obviously holding tight enough for Gunther to fall to the mat. He fought to get out of Jey’s hold, but then, the unbelievable happened.

Gunther tapped.

Jey was the new world heavyweight champion.

A gasp left my mouth as I slapped my palm against my lips. The whole place went feral, screaming and cheering as Jey was announced the new champion. Jey looked like he almost didn’t believe the moment himself. But when he held that belt in his arms and took a good look at it, you could tell the realization sunk in.

I was so proud. Unbelievably proud. Jey, this man who was always known as ‘the other twin’ or ‘a tag team star’ has won his first singles world championship. And he did it all by himself. He beat one of the best in the business.

Just as I watched as Jey started heading up the stairs through the crowd with his twin Jimmy, a knock on the locker room door sounded through the empty room. I turned around, watching as a backstage employee pointed at me. “You’re up in half an hour. Get ready.” She said before closing the door.

I closed my eyes, starting Jey’s breathing exercises he taught me last night, knowing that if I didn’t, I’d break down on the spot. My match was coming up. My WrestleMania moment was here. It was now or never.

Jey wasn’t able to see me before I went out. Although a part of me was upset, I completely understood. He just became world heavyweight champion. He probably had a bunch of media stuff and interviews bombarding him after his match.

I stood in the gorilla, looking at myself in the mirror in deep thought. Liv was behind me, her title wrapped around her waist and her gear fitting her body perfectly.

“Alright, let’s go kill it, girl.” Liv spoke, massaging my shoulders once. I nodded, turning towards her way and sending a small smile. I swear, I thought I was about to projectile vomit all over the room. I felt like I was on the verge of that horrible panic attack I suffered yesterday.

But then my music started blasting through the arena.

The crowd rose to their feet, phones out, lights flashing, and cheers deafening the arena. I plastered a smile on my face, forcing myself through the curtain and out onto the stage.

There were so many people. So many people. They were all on their feet, cheering for me. The adrenaline that spiked through my body cleared my anxiety, and it felt just the slightest bit easier to breathe.

Liv came out after me, Dominik by her side as always. I jumped up and down in place, warming up my body even though the air in Las Vegas was already warm itself. I tried focusing only on Liv and the title, but my mind and eyes kept wandering off to every single fan in the large arena.

From the start, the match had everyone hooked. There wasn't a single moment where the crowd made zero noise. There was always some cheering and some booing. The boos did get excessively loud when Dominik interfered in the match one too many times.

At the fifteen minute mark of our match, Liv and I were both drained. We were giving it our all, and everyone could see how exhausted we were. When we both rose to our feet after hitting a series on each other, Dom got up on the apron and distracted the ref. I stomped up to Dom myself, pointing my finger in his face.

"Get out of here! What are you doing!?" I yelled, loud enough for the cameras to pick up. Dom grinned, his eyes glancing behind me to where I could hear Liv approaching me. I quickly stepped to the side, and Liv hit Dom with a running forearm, knocking him off the apron. The crowd cheered and laughed as Liv gasped, and I took that pause as an advantage.

When Liv turned around, I performed her own finisher, the Oblivion, and sent her face down to the mat. My heart was racing, my body was sweating, and adrenaline pumped through my veins as I climbed to the top rope, hitting Liv with a frog splash that I was taught from the best. I scrambled on top of Liv, hooking one of her legs with my arm and pinned her shoulders to the mat.

Three slams sounded from the mat, and my music echoed throughout the large stadium. My body was drained, all my energy completely gone as I stared up at the baby blue sky and the sun over-shining the ring.

"Here is your winner, and the NEW WWE women's world champion, Y/N!"

The ref kneeled down next to my side as I sat myself up straight. My lip trembled as all of these surreal emotions came pouring down onto me. I choked up a sob, reality setting in when the prestigious title was placed in my sweaty, sore arms. I dipped my forehead down, resting it on the cool material of the gold belt. I couldn't believe it. I was the champion. I was at the top of the mountain.

I did it.

I rose to my feet, letting the ref take my hand as we faced towards the hard cam. I raised my title up with the ref, my eyes wandering over every single cheering fan on their feet for me. I hugged the title to my chest, shutting my eyes and soaking in the almost unreal moment.

"You are amazing, Y/N. And tomorrow, you are going to remind everyone who don’t know who you fuckin’ are." Jey's words flurried in my mind. Just thinking of him, and how supportive he's been throughout this whole road made me fight back my unshed tears.

The cameras were off, but I still had a good ten minutes to celebrate before I made my way backstage. I slid out from under the ring, jumping onto the Spanish announce table. The fans all out in front of me, and behind me as well, cheered once again for my victory.

When I closed my eyes once more, I saw Jey. I just pictured him standing in the gorilla, waiting for me backstage with the biggest smile on his face. I pictured me falling into his arms, embracing his warmth and thanking him over and over for giving me the support and motivation I needed to go out and compete on the grandest stage of them all.

I pictured him dipping his head on my shoulder, whispering his praises into my ear. Telling me how proud he was of me. Telling me that he knew I could do it.

I couldn't have done this without Jey. I couldn't have done anything without him.

"Let's go! I knew you could do it!" I heard a faint voice exclaim over the deafening crowd that seemed to have gotten ten times louder. I opened my eyes, furrowing my brows when I saw everyone in front of me doing Jey's 'yeet' movement with their arms. My breath got caught in my lungs, and I turned around to finally see what all of the chaos was about.

There he was. Jey stood in the ring, wearing a simple set of black joggers and a black t-shirt, his title wrapped around his waist that he won earlier tonight. My face immediately crumpled, those unshed tears forming in my eyes once more. Jey stayed where he was in the middle of the ring, that bright smile that I've been daydreaming of planted on his lips.

I jumped off the announce table, heading straight inside the ring. Not caring who was watching in the audience or who was watching backstage, I headed straight towards where I needed to be.

In his arms.

I didn't hear the crowd's wild cheers, I didn't see the phones flashing their lights at us, I didn't hear the clicks of the cameras from the photographers, I just sank. I sank into his arms, hugging him so tight, afraid that he'd disappear if I let go. His head rested on top of mine, his large frame towering over my smaller one.

"You did it, sweetheart." He whispered, his breath cascading over the shell of my ear. I pinched my lips in an attempt to contain my emotions, but it didn't work all too well. I lifted my head off his chest, my glossy eyes staring into his. His expression was one I've never seen before. He looked so happy. He looked so proud. He was proud of me.

Even though there were more than ten thousand phones recording us at that moment, I didn't hesitate for one moment when I gently caressed his freshly washed face, pulling him down so my lips could reach his. It could've been the heat of the moment. It could've been the adrenaline. But one thing I know for certain is that I'm kissing a man who I love. A man who cares for me. A man who supports me and lifts me off the ground when I've been hit. A man whom I'm so proud to claim as mine.

His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling my flush against his body, not even bothering the fact that I was drenched with sweat. He didn't kiss me forcefully. He didn't kiss me with domination. But he kissed me with devotion. Long, slow strokes that told me that it wasn't for show.

This was Jey kissing me for who I am, not for who I was acting to be.

Jey separated himself, knowing all too well that once he starts, it gets harder to stop. He picked my title up from the mat, twirling his finger in a circle motioning for me to turn around. I smiled, my lips feeling swollen and plump as I turned around, letting Jey do the honor of wrapping the title around my waist.

"I'm so proud of you." Jey whispered in my ear, his arms rubbing softly up and down my arms. I turned my head around, looking up into those deep brown eyes that have been torturing me in the best way possible these past few weeks. I let my eyes fall closed as Jey planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

His finger gently brushed under my chin, and I opened my eyes once again. I smiled up at Jey, letting the fans continue their swooning.

"Everyone knows who you fuckin' are now, sweetheart."

#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso imagine #wwe #wwe fanfiction

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nozhdyved · 11 days ago

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moan - k.k.

contains: nsfw, 18+ 3.9k wc, switch!kurt x switch!reader, onlyfans fem!reader, assplay, gunplay, dacryphilia, sort of dubcon elements i suppose?, stalkerish kurt, choking (minimal), degrading and dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, recording during sex, please consume carefully!

notes: of couuuuurse this is for my love my light bambi (boom boom boom) uhh i struggled writing this bc i didnt know if i was doing too much or not enough?? but i do hope its good.. i worked very hard. as alwayyys, listen to the song ive linked while reading this, OH and also this is a pt 2 to strict machine but it shouldn't be too confusing if u havent read that :)

taglist: @girliism, @imperishablereverie, @musingsofheaven, @yardofbrunettes, @forgetmenotnympho, @sweetheartfaist, @sweetestfaiszts, @hangels, @cowboyfaists, @jesuistrestriste (adding @pittsick and @222col, my kunkleheads) . click here to be added !

listen while you read

@girliism my place at 6. bring the gun.

You’re watching your phone anxiously as you pace back and forth across your apartment, your quiet padding steps echoing in your ears. You had sent the message nearly three hours ago, along with your address. The two checkmarks that showed the recipient had seen the message popped up nearly a millisecond after you sent it, but there had been no response. When you check the time, it’s five minutes till six.

You weren’t really sure why you had messaged him in the first place– his profile stared back at you, taunting and cruel. KurtsWorld69. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, but you were sure he was still lurking around. Peering in through windows and climbing up the fire escape to watch you while you slept. Taking photos of you from outside your apartment when you least expected it, and mailing you the pictures with dried cum all over them. Commenting on your streams, spamming links to his Twitch account and promoting his Instagram. Fucking irritating– but for some reason, you didn’t block him. You just couldn’t.

After a while of his silent intrusion into your way of living, you’d bitten the bullet. Made your bed, set up a discreet camera in the corner, and sent Kurt your address. And now you’re just waiting, like a prisoner on death row awaiting their slaughter.

It’s two minutes till six when you break out of your reverie, and you peek past the curtains to check the parking lot in front of your apartment. There’s no new cars pulling up or already parked, and you sigh in frustration, running a hand through your hair. He’d better show up. It’s exactly 5:59 when flickering headlights turn into the parking lot, stopping in front of your apartment complex. You close the curtains and check your hair and makeup in your phone camera, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs. You tug down the hem of your top, making sure to leave just a sliver of underboob, just as three knocks sound on your door. Confident and loud, like he isn’t scared of getting caught. You check the time– 6 pm exactly.

You toss your hair back and open the door slowly. There he is. His hair definitely looked less greasy than last time, damp and scented with some sort of tropical shampoo. At least he was trying. His eyes seem to light up at the sight of you, and he leaned forward, as if about to kiss you–

You wrinkle your nose and dodge, opening the door wider. “Come on in,” you say, shutting the door quickly and locking it behind you. He’s taken his shoes off, shuffling around your apartment and taking note of the one door that’s left ajar, leading to your bedroom.

“I like your place,” he comments, acting like he hasn’t been peeking in every night, watching your every movement until you disappear behind closed doors.

You roll your eyes, leading him over to the bedroom. “Please. I’m not fucking stupid.”

“I never said you were,” he feigns innocence, willingly letting you sit him down on the bed. Good. He’s pliant, allowing you to control his body. He’s already hard in his jeans, and you brush over the straining denim lightly, smiling at the way his body stiffens up.

“You know I see you every night, right?” you ask rhetorically, towering over him with your hands on his shoulders. You know he knows. He wants to be caught, with the way he always leaves a window open or drops little notes around your place. Kurt only shrugs in response, a bashful smile on his face.

“Maybe I want you to see me,” he suggests, and you just scoff in response. He looks around the room, narrowing his eyes as he observes. “Where’s the camera? We’re– I mean, you invited me over to collab, right?”

You shake your head, leaning against the dresser. “Not yet. Think of this as a trial run. Y’know, like a chemistry reading,” you lie, watching as his face brightens and he nods eagerly.

“Oh! Okay, okay,” he bobbles his head, beaming. “Hey, what if we take, like, a before and after photo? Then you can tag me on your Instagram story or something, like, confirming our collab–”

Your hand shoots out to grip his shoulder, manicured nails digging into soft fabric. “This is not a fucking collab,” you snarl, watching his pretty brown eyes dilate. “Stop fucking calling it that. I don’t even follow your goddamn Instagram.”

His lips are parted in a silent shock, and he nods dazedly, body still stiff as you withdraw your hand from his shoulder. “...You should follow me,” he meeps out hesitantly, “I post, uh- vlogs, and stuff, it’s all really high quality..”

Kurt quiets down with one sharp look from you, your hands dragging down his neck gently. “Did you bring it?” you ask, a warning tone in your voice. He nods frantically and pulls it out from the waistband of his jeans, slowly sliding it across the bed instead of handing it to you.

You take it with shaking hands, feeling the cool metal press into your hot skin. It’s heavy, and you aren’t exactly sure how to hold it. “Is it loaded?”

Kurt seems to hesitate, before shaking his head slowly. You arch an eyebrow and he caves. “It is,” he says, and you set it down gingerly, like a ticking bomb in your hands.

Your hands reach down to his jeans, watching his face closely when his breathing begins to stutter. You unbutton them, slowly zipping down the fly and massaging him through the fabric. “You hard already?” you ask, knowing full well what the answer was, considering you were palming his cock through the thin layer of cotton.

He nods eagerly, watching with rapt attention as you squeeze his length, fabric darkening with pre-cum as his breathing grows more shallow. “Yeah– Yeah, I am– jus’ for you,” he pants, biting back his whimpers when you slowly pull down his boxers, letting his cock thwack against his stomach.

“What did you think was gonna happen when you showed up?” you ask him, stroking his length and watching it slick up with pre. “That I’d let you fuck me and give you a shoutout on my story?” You lean in close, licking up his neck and tasting his sweat, before leaving a sweet kiss under his ear. “You’re so fucking disgusting. As if I’d ever let you fuck me.” You pull away from his cock and stand up, walking to the side of the room and hearing him whimper.

“Wait, what are y–?” You whip back around at the sound of his trembling voice, the gun now tight in your grip from where you picked it up. It weighs heavy in your hand as you point it across the room at him, watching his face pale.

“Don’t move,” you say, both hands on the gun as you slowly approach him. The floorboards creak under each and every step, and the gun shakes in your hands. “Not. A fucking. Muscle.”

You crawl beside him on the bed with the gun pointed at his face, watching as he slowly lays down at your prompting. “I’m not gonna do anything to you,” he whispers, pupils blown out as he stares into the barrel of the gun. “I wasn’t going to. That wasn’t my pla–”

You shush him with a press of the cold metal to his temple, his eyes darting side to side at the feeling of it pressing into his skin. “On your stomach,” you order, voice hushed. He obeys in that slow, languid pace that seems to have taken over his body, a response to the fear. You tug down his boxers when he’s lying on his stomach with his face in the pillow, gripping a handful of his ass and digging your nails in. “Where’d you get this?” you ask, referring to the gun.

He exhales sharply, whimpering when you dig the gun harsher into his flesh. “From my friend,” he mewls out, before correcting himself. “Well– he’s not my friend, per se. I kinda killed him. With that gun. But he deserved it.” Kurt’s entire body is flushed red, which you can see when you gently peel his shirt off, tossing it aside. To see the man who’d been terrorizing you for the past few weeks down to this level was satisfying, making your core ache with need.

“How many people have you killed with this?” you ask, spreading his cheeks and laying a gentle kiss on the soft skin of his ass, prompting a quiet whimper from him as you keep massaging him.

“I-I dunno– like, m-maybe two or three? I don’t like to use guns th-that much,” he admits, hissing through his teeth when you press your thumb against the rim of his asshole, pressing ever-so-slightly past the ring of muscle. The gun is still in your other hand, pressed firmly to his temple, and you can feel his body shaking with your movements– or maybe just with fear.

You don’t grant him a response, slowly pulling the gun away from his head and sitting your weight down on the back of his legs. You’re slick with anticipation, soaking through your panties and making his calves sticky, the sensation making him shudder. Your hands splay across his back, nails gently brushing against the freckles that span across his skin. “I should have shot you by now,” you whisper, knowing damn well you have no clue how to shoot a gun.

He whimpers when he feels the cold revolver touch his skin, prodding at his ass. “But?” he asks, his voice wavering and pitching up as you press it in deeper, just barely past his rim.

You take note of the way he seems to clench– squeezing around the muzzle, his breathing becoming slow and labored. “But,” you choose to toy with him a bit, not pushing the gun in any further, “I’ve been thinking too much about you.” It’s spoken quietly like the confession of a sin, your voice hushed and delicate. Shards of stained glass that seem to pepper in Kurt’s skin, colors reflecting in the light from the way you speak so gently to him, while defiling him. “Constantly thinking about you,” you add on, drawing a delighted shudder from his body, limp beneath you.

You press the muzzle deeper into his ass, causing his hips to jerk a bit. You place a firm hand on his lower back, nails digging in. “I’m not done talking,” you snap, making him still. The metal of the revolver is heating up ever so slightly, and the plastic grip is slick with your sweat– a combination of anxiety and arousal. The muzzle goes in tantalizingly smooth, pushing past a practically non-existent barricade as you push it a few inches deeper. “I know you’ve been thinking about me too,” you whisper, beginning to slowly grind down onto his calves. “I mean, of course you have. That’s why you’ve been fucking stalking me. Perv.”

Kurt whines at that, and you take note of how his cock seems to twitch when you say that. “I wasn’t st-stalking you,” he stammers, trying to hopelessly defend himself, “I just- You’re s-so pretty, and I really wanted to post you on my story, I can’t- oh, God- please, please, you’re so gorgeous…”

You sharply push the revolver in until the top strap hits his skin, Kurt’s whole body jerking as his hips jump. “Fuck!” he yelps, arching his back and moaning into the pillow as the muzzle bumps against his prostate.

You sneer at his reaction, the slutty arch of his body as he grinds his neglected cock down onto the mattress, and you press the gun in further, just to pull a pathetic whimper from his lips. “You’re disgusting,” you spit at him, wrinkling your nose at how he whines in agreement. “Getting fucked by your own gun. And you like this shit, don’t you?” You thrust the revolver in, and he nods, choking on his own words. “Don’t you?”

“Ye-yeah, ffffuck, I do, I r-really do, shit-!” He’s gripping at the bedsheets like that could save him, mouth parted in a slack ‘O’ as you grind your sensitive clit onto his calf, watching with rapt attention at the way his body jerks and heaves as you fuck him harder.

“Yeah? Fuckin’ slut likes that I could just pull the trigger at any moment?” you taunt, leaning forward to grip one hand tightly around the back of his neck. Your pebbled nipples swoop over his skin under the thin fabric of your top, and he practically sobs, nodding as best as he can with you gripping his neck.

“I do, like it s’much, it’s so good, you’re so good, nngh–!” He’s clenching around the muzzle sporadically, trying to pull away from your grasp and the never-ending pistoning of the revolver in his ass. “Y’gonna make me cum, I’m gonna- gonna cum, fuck, please, I can’t- can’t hold it in–!” Kurt mewls as you ruthlessly thrust the gun past his rim over and over again, slamming into his prostate. Your cunt pulses with heat as you keep grinding on him, your panties completely ruined with how aroused you are at making Kurt fall apart.

“You’re such a pathetic fucking loser–” You have so much more to say, but he’s cumming untouched, choked whines punching out from his chest as he trembles in your grasp. Viscous fluid shoots out underneath him, matting his chest hair and sticking to the sheets. He’s gasping for air as you let go of his neck, whimpering pathetically as you slowly begin to pull the revolver out of him. “Stop fucking whining,” you snap, smacking his ass and prompting a sharp yelp of pain.

He’s still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm when you pull the gun out, shiny and slick. You place it to his head, sitting primly next to him while he’s looking absolutely wrecked. “You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” you murmur quietly, tapping the muzzle against his browbone as your finger tightens around the trigger. “Like a fuckin’ mutt.” You slowly drag the muzzle lower and lower, pressing it against the seam of his lips.

“Open,” you order, and he obeys easily, plush lips wrapping around the muzzle and taking it into his mouth. His eyes gaze back up at you longingly as he sucks around the barrel, lashes fluttering and eyes damp as he struggles to take the whole length down his throat. “I could just kill you right fucking now,” you mumble, and his eyes seem to widen, either with fear or exhilaration.

“You couldn’t. You wouldn’t,” he objects, words muffled past the metal of the revolver. His teeth clack against it, eyes glinting. His orgasm seemed to follow with a newfound wave of confidence, and he bites down against the muzzle. “You don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

You glare down at him, pushing the weapon further past his lips and down his throat. “It’s easy, isn’t it?” you say tauntingly, drumming your fingers against the trigger guard. “Just press down, and bam.” The last word is hushed, hissed through your teeth. His hands travel up to squeeze your waist, pushing up your top to trace over your body. It’s surprisingly loving and gentle considering the situation the two of you are in.

Kurt’s calloused hands reach up to squeeze your breasts, tracing over your nipples teasingly as he moans around the gun. One hand pulls away from your soft body to lay across your hand that’s holding the gun, interlocking fingers gently. You pull the gun away from his lips, escaping his mouth with a quiet ‘pop!’.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His grip grows tighter around your hand, and in a fluid movement, he’s got you pinned facedown on the bed, one knee planted firmly on your back. Your heart rate is quickening as you struggle fruitlessly beneath him, one hand lifting you up by your neck to make eye contact with him. Kurt leans in close, a giddy grin on his face as he places the gun underneath your chin. A clicking mechanism can be heard in the tense silence.

“You had the safety on.”

Chills manifest their way down your spine at his words, the tap of the gun against your neck becoming all the more ominous. His cock is hardening again, pressing firm against your ass and lower back as he ruts against you. Your breathing grows shallow, unable to force words out. It’s like there’s a vice around your neck, ceasing your breathing. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re scared,” he says coolly, rubbing his length against your slick-soaked panties, making you moan quietly at the friction. “There’s no need, baby.” Kurt’s hands knead into your ass, spreading your cheeks and spitting at your pulsing hole. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

He pauses, smiling down at the sight of you, trapped underneath him. The gun presses deeper into your neck, and you whimper as he tenses his fingers around the trigger. “But I will. Because I know you want me to.”

You scream as he suddenly pushes into you, the slick of your pussy making it easy for his cock to breach in, immediately thrusting into you and keeping you pinned down. His weight is fully spread onto your body as he plunges in and out of your syrupy cunt, the revolver pressed firmly under your chin.

“Stupid fucking bitch,” he snickers, tapping the muzzle against your parted lips as you moan. “You really thought you could take me? You just gave me a good fucking orgasm is all,” Kurt moans, reaching one hand down to rub at your clit. “Fuckin’ tight as hell. I didn’t expect that, considering you whore yourself out, huh? Thought you’d be all loose ‘n sloppy, but this–” he punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, groaning at the sensation of your gummy walls squeezing around his dick. “–fuck, this pussy’s fucking s-so tight ‘round me, baby, s’like you were built for me.”

You whimper– at his words, at the fear of having the gun so close to you, at how his cock drags deliciously in your cunt, and how his fingers expertly work your clit. “K-Kurt– please–”

He shushes you, knocking the muzzle of the gun against your head gently. “Sh sh shh, you don’t needa say a word, baby. Just let me– nngh, fuckin’ use this pussy,” Kurt grunts, one hand grabbing the flesh of your ass to propel into you faster. The bedframe knocks into the wall with every thrust, paint chipping off in flakes. “Y’feel like a big girl now, hm? Got to play with my gun and fuck me, now you think you’re on top of the world?” he crows out, laughing in a frenzied fashion. The air is sticky with the smell of sex and sweat, permeating the entire room. It’s obscene, but what’s more obscene are the moans that Kurt manages to push from your throat with each harsh pound he delivers.

“You looked so sexy holding my gun,” Kurt whispers in your ear as he fucks you, moaning as you tighten around his length. “So, so fuckin’ beautiful. My girl holdin’ my gun,” he groans, and you hate how your stomach tightens when he calls you his.

“I’m not- your fuckin’–haaaah– f-fuck, mmmmh!” Your jaw slackens as he keeps hitting your g-spot with the spongy head of his cock, hard and relentless as he pinches your clit.

“No?” he feigns innocence, and you can see his fingers tightening around the trigger ever so slightly, causing a shudder of fear to wrack your body. “Well, you’re going to be,” he laughs confidently, smacking your ass and jackhammering into you.

You aren’t sure when the tears began flowing– maybe when the gun was pressed against you, or perhaps they just started, but Kurt wipes them away from your cheek with his thumb, gentle and loving. He kisses your neck, biting at your earlobe and giggling. He’s acting like he’s found a new toy to play with, not threatening someone’s life while fucking them to the end of the earth.

“Awww, baby.” The gentle condescension of his voice paired with the brutal thrusts is enough to make the tears fall faster, and he kisses your cheek gently, moaning into your ear. “You’re so pretty when you cry for me,” he whispers, grinning at the weak keen it draws from you.

You jerk your head back as he flicks your clit, mewling. “Gonna– Kurt, Kurt, ‘m gonna cum, fuck–”

The muzzle of the revolver digs into your chin again, and a broken sob escapes your chest. “Ask for permission,” he hisses, and you nearly break down right then and there, the pressure of the gun against your heated skin and the sensation of his cock pounding you braindead being all too much.

“Please,” you plead, your voice cracking. “Please lemme cum, hhnnnh, I wa-wanna cum on y’r cock, Kurt, lemme cum, please–!”

He groans at that, tossing the gun aside to grip your ass with both hands, pounding into you. “Yeah, bitch. Fuckin’ cum on my dick like the slut you are,” he growls, the roughness of his voice intertwining with the loud squeals and moans that are pulled out of you. Your walls clench around him as your orgasm crashes upon you, screaming so loud you swear your vocal cords burst. He keeps fucking into you, using you to ride out his orgasm as his load shoots inside you. The warmth seeps into your insides, leaving your mind foggy and slow as he pulls out, using the muzzle to push some of his leaking cum back into your fluttering pussy.

Kurt stands up to survey your limp body, nodding in approval at the cockdrunk look in your eyes. “Job well done, don’t you think?” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your neck gently, brushing your hair back.

Your mouth is still agape, and he leaves a sloppy kiss on your parted lips. “...You should go,” you manage to say as you catch your breath, thighs still twitching.

He smiles good-naturedly and gives your ass a little pat, scurrying around the room to pick up his strewn-about clothing, wiggling his fingers in a little wave when he’s ready to depart.

“Oh, and just so you know?” You look over at him, leaning against the doorframe with the gun still in his hand, tapping it against the wall gently. He winks at you, running a hand through his hair before he opens the door.

“It was unloaded the whole time.” With his final words, you’re left to stare at his retreating figure. The sound of your apartment door closing echoes through your brain as you lay back down on your back, shuddering.

Once you feel ready enough, you stand up on shaky legs with your stained sheets wrapped around you. Kneeling, you gather the hidden camera you had set up and stumble over to your computer, inserting the USB drive and waiting for the video to load onscreen. You’re still sticky between your thighs, and if you looked down, you were sure you’d see some of Kurt’s cum, trailing down your thighs and dripping onto the floor.

The video loads, and you’re quickly downloading it to your files, navigating to OnlyFans and uploading it to your page.

“Had some fun with props xx”

Your hands tremble as you tag his username, KurtsWorld69, and hit post.

#charlie's writing #omffggg i need to die #hes so sexy i want him #spree 2020 #spree movie #spree smut #spree fic #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle fic #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x you #kurt kunkle smut

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Dove (part nine)

Leon Kennedy x female reader (bodyguard trope, slowest, slow burn I swear, a few swears in this one) Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight.

The click of the lock – unsure how your ears even picked up on it at all with the ghost of the alarm still screeching around your skull – makes your stomach churn as Leon heads out into the garage, off to face the unknown.

What if it’s one of those… those Lickers, stalking around the house, waiting to wrap him up in one those awful tongues, fling his body from side to side?

Fuck, your chest feels impossibly tight, like there isn’t even space in there to take a deep enough breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, sitting upright on the sofa, forcing yourself to count - in, hold, out. In, hold, out. In, hold out… If those things are out there, you try and placate – your breathing steadier than it was but heart still pounding furiously - Leon can handle it. He’d said so himself that he had a lot of experience so that must count for something, otherwise he'd more cautious and less cocky when he’d strode out the door.

He is coming back – you repeat it in your head like a prayer, maybe if you say it enough times it’ll make it true.

You two had been about to kiss. He needs to come back.

Leon heads straight to the trunk of the SUV to rummage through the duffel bag that he’d stored there the previous day. You’d been polite enough not to remark on why it had been accompanying him to the bathroom and out on his perimeter checks, but it could only go on so long without being commented upon. It seemed a good compromise to leave it locked in the trunk, whilst still having enough on his person to get by. He helps himself to a couple more rounds, two flash grenades and two straight up grenades, though he sincerely hopes he won’t be dealing any of those out so close to the house. Attaching everything to his utility belt, he takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. His heartrate is elevated, adrenaline pulsing through his veins from a combination of the alarm, what might be waiting for him behind the garage doors… ..and the fact that he was a millisecond away from kissing you.

Need to address that later.

He won’t have the chance to if he doesn’t get his head on straight, though. He checks his ammo one last time, clicks the safety off and undoes the padlock on the garage door, lifting it up so fast it bounces off its hinges as he tucks himself to the side, preparing for an ambush.

Nothing but a strong gust of wind.

He walks forward, slowly, gun raised, and sidesteps out, keeping his back pressed against the outer wall. It’s a fraction different being in a rural setting, surrounded by fields than it is to be in the depths of an underground facility, not worrying about being so exposed. No-one else here to have his back, so this’ll have to do.

He edges around slowly, trying to keep his ears peeled for any movement above the wind – a heavy footstep, maybe a tile slipping from the roof – but there’s nothing but the rustle of the trees as the wind wooshes through. He keeps his eyes flickering between the horizon, the sky and the ground for any evidence that there was someone or something close enough that would trigger the motion detectors, but nothing is to be found.

Leon circles the perimeter two more times before retreating back into the garage and viewing the footage, trying to pinpoint the exact alarm that was triggered, though it doesn’t seem to be obvious. There’s nothing at all to be seen as he thoroughly watches each of the feeds, checking that there wasn’t some dark flash in the corner of one of something or someone retreating out of shot, but it all comes up blank.

Maybe the alarm was divine intervention, he muses, pulling the garage door back down and securing the padlock. He really shouldn’t be kissing the witness, should he?

His phone rings – Hunnigan. Of course, she’ll be keen for an update.

“Hi. Look, I haven’t forgotten,” he starts, hoping to deflect from a lecture. “Dove’s just got up, so-“

“Great.” Though she doesn’t sound sincere. “Patch me through to your laptop, we can have a video call and I can ask her myself.”

“Oh. Er…” He hesitates, trying to drum up an excuse. “Surely you’ve got a lot of other pressing matters on your plate than this. I’ll ask her now and then I’ll email through the intel, if there’s any.”

“Leon,” her tone is stern, “may I remind you that I’m the handler of this case and it is my right to speak to Dove if I want.” There’s a pause and Leon realizes a moment too late that that was his moment to placate her. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, of course not!” He sighs, frustration creeping into his voice. He knows it’s not professional, that he needs to keep his emotions in check, but it’s all starting to bubble over with the accusation. He can’t just waltz back in the living room, declare the perimeter is clear, shrug off the near-kiss and shove you on a video call with Hunnigan – it’d be emotional whiplash.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not hiding anything from you, you know me better than that. I just… I haven’t had chance to give Dove the last update yet, and I don’t want her to know about the CCTV hack.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she needs to know.” “You don’t thi…? Agent Kennedy,” he knows he’s in trouble now – he can picture her rubbing her temples as she thinks how to handle this. “You’re aware I was the one who chose you for this assignment, and I can quite easily choose another agent and reassign you if you refuse to co-operate with myself and HQ.” “I am co-operating! And you know what, Hunnigan? You should trust me. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt that.” He huffs back. “I’ve been where Dove is, okay? She’s still shaken up, she’s fragile. I’ll tell her what she absolutely needs to know, but I don’t want to tell her things that will just pointlessly scare her.” “Oh, come on, you don’t want to scare her? You’ve been in that house barely 36 hours together and you sound like an overprotective boyfriend.” “I don’t.” He near enough growls at the accusation.

“You do – you’ve never made me chase you so much to get information from previous witnesses. Why do you care about her so much?”

“No, hold up - those fucks were not witnesses. All they cared about was avoiding Umbrella’s wrath, not wanting to fall victim to the fucking monstrosities they helped create. Dove was just trying to do her job, to try and keep the public safe – like we are – and look where it got her. She’s injured, in pain, locked up in the middle of nowhere, worried about being suspected of being involved, we just had the security alarm go off and-“

“Wait. Alarm?” He’s used to her typing whilst he’s on the phone, but this time it sounds a little more frantic. “What alarm?”

He exhales, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine. I’ve just checked. Nothing to suggest anyone or anything’s been close. Must’ve been the wind – pretty gusty here today.”

“No, it’s just…” She trails off and Leon can hear her attack the backspace key. “We have it set so FSOs are alerted when an alarm system at any of the safe houses trigger. When did this happen?”

“About 30, maybe 40 minutes ago? I’ve done the perimeter four times, it’s clear. I’ll review the footage when I’m back inside.”

The typing ceases. “There’s nothing in any of the logs.”

“That a problem?”

“It’s set up to trigger a notification so we can get in touch with whoever we have out on security detail and check in. I should’ve got something.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as if she could see, “maybe it’s glitched.”

“Maybe…” She trails off, scanning the information on the screen once more. “Okay, fine – a compromise. Go and speak to Dove, quickly tell her what you want to tell her and then video call me on the laptop so I can ask about the servers.”

“And you won’t tell her about the CCTV?”

Hunnigan sighs. “No, I won’t tell her about the CCTV. 10 minutes, understood, Agent Kennedy?”

He takes another deep breath, he’s mad at himself, irritated with the situation and the fact he’s on thin ice after that outburst, that’s for sure.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The garage door unlocks and you jump to your feet, bracing yourself. There’s no denying the relief when you see Leon step back in, physically unharmed. You want to run over, to embrace him, but you stay glued to the spot.

“All clear, Dove. False alarm.” He offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile but he can’t quite commit, quickly turning to lock the door behind him.

“Really?” You don’t mean to sound quite so skeptical.

“Mm-hm. I think the wind must’ve just hit the sensor a certain way.” He turns back, but doesn’t make to step forward. “Sorry I was gone a while – wanted to be thorough, you know? And then Hunnigan called just as I was going to come back in.”

“Oh, with updates?” You don’t know what you’d like to hear.

“Kinda.” He hesitates for a moment before moving towards the kitchen. “Sit down – I’ll grab some water, okay?”

He clocks the panicked look on your face, even more so than it was when he’d left the room. Good going, Kennedy. “It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“Okay. Sure.” You mumble, sitting back down heavily on the couch and picking a spot on the coffee table to stare at as you hear him busy himself in the kitchen. He appears a few moments later, a glass of water in each hand and his laptop tucked under his arm. He places one glass down carefully in front of you and moves to sit on the other couch.

The distance feels too great for a man you swore was a millisecond away from kissing you not even an hour ago. Are there CCTV cameras in the house? Maybe Hunnigan had seen what was about to happen before the alarm had gone off and Leon’s getting reassigned. If he can’t know your real name, he really shouldn’t be kissing you either, should he?

“So, first of all,” your attention snaps back to agent. He’s opened his laptop up, placed it on the coffee table, and sat right on the very edge of the other sofa that it doesn’t look like it could be comfortable, “the President wanted the surveillance department back up and running as soon as possible. A lot of manpower has been dispersed to assist.”

“That makes sense - national security and that.” You wonder if they’re in the same office, sat in your colleagues’ chairs. Did they just… steam clean the carpets to get out the blood? Rip them out entirely and lay down rugs to cover the concrete floor?

They should burn the whole building down to the ground.

“In a way, but they are still working on tracking down the perpetrators of the attack. It also means that Hunnigan’s not been able to send a team to your place as yet.”

“So, I’m still a potential suspect?”

“Not to me.” He replies, firmly. “But I’m afraid it’s still something that needs done. In the meanwhile, er, she wants to know if you remember anything about the servers, specifically how they operated.”

You shake your head. “Not anything technical.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, just they’re struggling to regain access and, well…” He looks at you, sympathetically.

“I’m the only one left to ask.”

“Mm.” Leon looks down at the laptop then, a few taps and clicks as he seems to set something up. “Hunnigan would like to talk with you – pretty urgently – so I said we’d call after I’ve given you the updates. You ready?”

Leon spins round the laptop before you even had chance to respond, an outward call already ringing, the camera on and showing your rather surprised expression in a box to the right of the screen. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he hung up with Hunnigan – he’d wasted a few precious minutes putting the grenades and ammo back in the duffel bag in the SUV.

“Dove,” Hunnigan’s voice comes through the speakers first before her video appears on the screen. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. Thank you.” You shuffle in your seat as Leon gets up and circles round to the back of the sofa you’re sat on, crouching down to check the angle. “How are you?”

“Good - thank you for asking.” There’s an awkward pause, you can see her purse her lips before she pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before continuing. “Agent Kennedy, you are not required for this call.”

“Understood, ma’am.” He can’t help himself still, apparently. “I’ll go just shower, then, if I’m not required.”

“Good idea,” Hunnigan bites back. “Go cool off.”

You shift slightly in your seat, not sure how to deal with the tension between the two. What had been said in that call? In the little box to the right hand of the screen, you can see Leon raise a hand, almost as if he was going to reach out to squeeze your shoulder. Instead he drops his hand into a fist, bounces it off the back of the couch twice and strides out of shot towards the bathroom.

“I’ll get straight to the point, Dove - the servers.” Hunnigan’s tone has changed – lighter, now she’s talking to you, and she’s typing along with every word. “What can you tell me about them?”

“Erm… Just everything that I told Leon for his report already, I think. All the active cases are stored on there – it distributes them randomly to operatives every morning via the terminals. I already have some pre-allocated when I log in – it must do them at some point in the night.”

“And the end of the day?”

You shake your head. “Nothing particularly different at the end of the day that we need to do. It saves periodically on the server as you update cases. Nothing’s saved on the terminals themselves – it would be a security risk.”

“And did they ever talk about the security embedded into the server itself?”

You hear the shower switch on from the bathroom, wonder if Leon will be using the same shampoo and conditioner… “Dove?” “Er, no. Not that I can recall being told.”

“I mentioned there was a breach on the database when we first met.”

“Yeah.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, wondering what she’s about to reveal. “Did they extract all the information, then?”

“They got nothing.” She sounds disappointed.

“But that’s good, isn’t it? It’s a lot of information, personal information too. You wouldn’t want that getting out into the wrong hands.”

“Mm, not entirely. The server wiped itself in result of the attempt.”

That doesn’t sound right. “Wiped itself?”

“Apparently”, she sounds skeptical. “it’s protocol.”

“No. I mean…” You shuffle in your seat, trying to think ahead of each word before you say it. “I honestly don’t know what it was meant to do in that scenario, but it doesn’t seem right that they’d set it up to wipe without any sort of recovery method, or a separate back-up in the event of a hack or a breach.”

“We’re of the same opinion, then.” She nods, a satisfied smile on her lips. “But I’m curious as to why you’re so sure.”

“Because some of the surveillance has been going on for months, occasionally even a year before enough intel is gathered to be escalated.” Sometimes you’d had to scroll through pages and pages of notes to get yourself up to speed before you even started analyzing the most recent intel.

“What do you mean by escalated?”

“Well, the surveillance team doesn’t act on anything – we’re just collating it as evidence for action then to be taken if deemed appropriate.”

“Do you decide that?”

“I don’t have the final say in it, but I write advisories.”

“How so?”

“Erm, like, this one was flagged up erroneously so it should be closed. This one is of interest, but not enough to act on, ongoing surveillance required. And then any more than that, I flag for review for the senior analysts.”

The shower shuts off.

“And they worked in the same building.”

Worked.

“Yes.” You press past the thought. “I don’t see why they would risk losing everything without some sort of failsafe – it would set the whole operation back to day zero.”

“Indeed, as that’s where we are now. They don’t even know where to start.” Hunnigan sighs and leans forward, rubbing temples with one hand.

“If you’re cleared of suspicion of the attack and breach, how do you feel about leading the division?”

“If?” You can’t help but bristle at that, the fact that she’d put the two things in the one sentence. Were you meant to be flattered at the offer?

“Yes – if.”

“I told you, this isn’t anything to do with me. I… I passed all my security checks at interview, we get vetted monthly without fail! If there had any doubt about my loyalties I would’ve been off the team and in custody immediately.”

“No need to get defensive, Dove. You have to understand where I’m coming from.”

“No, I don’t understand.” Tears burn at your eyes, though you’re determined not to let them fall. “I don’t understand how you think I could possibly have anything to do with what happened, that somehow I acquired those… those Lickers and let them, let them…” Your breath catches in your throat, the memories overwhelming you.

The bathroom door opens, but you don’t turn, eyes fixed on the screen. “Surely you have to agree it’s suspicious that you, out of all of those people, were the only one to survive, and yet with so little injury too.”

“Hunni-“

“I don’t know!” You retort, cutting across Leon’s warning to the agent. “I don’t know why they didn’t kill me. I don’t know why they didn’t bite my head off, rip me apart limb from limb, but… but I wish they had.”

“Dove,” Leon’s voice is soft, now directed towards you rather than the laptop screen, “you don’t mean that.”

“Noted.” Hunnigan’s tone is icy. “Thank you for your time.”

There’s a beep and the call disconnects.

You get to your feet, keep your head down, trying to make a beeline for the bedroom – it’s the only place you can go – but Leon steps in front of you, holding his hands up in front of him, as if he’s afraid to touch you, smelling sweet from the strawberry bodywash.

“Hey, look at me.”

“I’m tired, Leon.” You are, truly – suddenly and inexplicably feeling exhausted. Pathetic.

“Please.”

You look up then, defeated – you’re going to have to look up eventually - but there’s no tears in your eyes. His hair is damp and he’d dressed in a hurry, patches of his white t-shirt going translucent. “What?”

“I know it’s difficult right now – and I’m not just saying that, trust me, I’ve had that feeling when you’re the only one left and you don’t know why – but please don’t say things like that.”

You stare at him, but you don’t know what he wants you to say. “Sorry.”

“No, Dove,” he sounds exasperated, “I don’t me-“

“I really am tired.”

And he believes you. He wants to wrap you in his arms, pull you close to his chest, whisper promises in your ear, press kisses to your crown – anything to bring a spark back into your eyes than the look of defeat.

What had Hunnigan said?

“No, of course. You’re recovering.” He steps aside, leaves a clear path to your bedroom. “Go have a nap or just a rest – whatever you need. I’ll make us lunch when you’re up.”

You nod, hurrying into the bedroom and closing the door behind you with a click and near enough collapse into the bed, mindful of your arm, muffling sobs into the pillow.

“Why do you care about her so much?”

The words ring around Leon’s head as he lays on the sofa, one arm tucked behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling. It’s been over an hour and a half since you retreated into the bedroom, an hour or so since he last heard a muffled sob behind the door. He’d had to stop himself dialing Hunnigan’s number to find out what happened – tensions were too high. Why does he care so much? You’re beautiful, sure – always been a sucker for a pretty girl and that’s got him in trouble in the past – but it’s more than that, far more.

Maybe… maybe he cares so much because he’s never really had the chance to care for someone like this. He’s not had any sort of real relationship since before Raccoon City, one night stands here and there, but nothing of any domestic substance. You’re not entirely reliant on him, but it’s those things you’d do for a partner when they’re having a rough time. He could’ve been obtuse and unhelpful, watched you struggle in a foreign environment, but that’s never been his style – the wide-eyed, rookie cop who just wanted to help was still in there.

But what was he thinking earlier, nearly kissing you? You’re vulnerable, a prisoner almost, under his watch. He shouldn’t be doing that. It’s too much of a pressured environment, emotions and tempers are high – as the blow-out with Hunnigan had made abundantly clear.

He rolls to his side, cursing the world. Why couldn’t he have met you anywhere else?

You wake up, disorientated at first as to why it’s so dark. You’d retreated back into bed just before midday, surely Leon would’ve woken you for your medication at least. You sit up, allowing your eyes to adjust before hauling yourself out from under the warm covers and tentatively open the door, unsure of what the hour may be.

The living room is empty, an abandoned pillow and blanket on the sofa – Leon must be out on a perimeter check – but the garage door is ever so slightly ajar.

Leon’s never done that, even when he went out to search for a chair he’d got through the same routine and locked it up tight behind him. Maybe he’s grabbing something from the SUV and with you being in bed hadn’t felt it necessary to follow his usual routine?

“Leon?” You call out, cautiously.

There’s no response.

You walk slowly over to the door, trying to steady the building panic in your stomach, and peek through.

The garage light is on. The SUV is still in place, the garage door shuttered down and Leon is on his side, his back facing towards you, almost in a crescent shape so you can’t see his head, and the garage floor is smeared in blood. His blood.

You retreat like a coward – you should go forward, check for a pulse, see if you can do anything to help, but the panic is overwhelming. You make it only a good four or five steps when there’s that horrible, unhuman sound at the same time as something wet wraps around your ankle and yanks you down hard.

A tongue.

It’s one of those things’ tongues.

You scream, try and grab purchase on the carpet, your nails ripping up fibres but it’s not enough. You kick back wildly with your other leg, all terror and no substance, but the tongue begins to retract, yanking you along with it, the carpet burning against your knees as it drags you back into the garage.

You turn to look over your shoulder, tears burning your eyes, as the monstrosity waits on the hood of the SUV, dragging you to rest besides Leon’s lifeless body.

Lifeless and headless.

You scream.

There’s a bang – not of a gunshot, but of a door hitting the wall - and you’re up right in bed, heart pounding furiously against your ribcage, hard, shallow breaths but there’s no oxygen reaching the bottom of your lungs.

“Dove?”

The scream had come from your room and Leon can’t remember getting from the sofa to the door he’d moved that fast, throwing it open with such ferocity that it had banged against the wall, the handle leaving a hole in the plasterboard. He had his gun raised, cursing himself already for leaving you alone, only to find the room empty of intruders and you sat up in the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks, staring blankly into the space and breathing so hard it was as if you’d been sprinting.

He holsters his gun – safety clicked back on – and is by your side, crouched down, hand on your covered legs in moments.

“Dove?” He asks, softly.

You look at him, eyes wide in alarm, panting, before you grab his hand, squeezing his fingers in the hopes of reassurance, not quite believing you’re awake. “You’re… You’re okay.”

“Me?” He raises an eyebrow.

You nod. “You were… They were… I…” You swallow back down a sob.

“Hey, it’s all right. It must’ve been a bad dream.”

“It had got you, you were… You were dead.”

You squeeze his fingers again before letting go, trying to steady your breaths. “It felt so real.”

“I know.” He wasn’t a stranger to having such dreams, despite how many years had gone by. “But it wasn’t. I’m fine, see? Not a scratch or bruise on me.”

You nod again, shakily.

He gets to his feet. “Let me get you some water, hm?”

You wrap your fingers around his wrist then. It’s not a strong grip, he could pull out of it easily, but it’s enough to still him.

“Can you stay?” You’re not looking at him, eyes fixed on a random spot of the duvet.

“I’ll only be gone a moment, just to the kitchen and back.”

Your grip tightens a little around his wrist. “Please.”

“Okay.” How could he ever say no?

You shuffle along in the bed then, making space wordlessly.

“Are you sure?”

There’s only a slight tug on his wrist before he clambers carefully onto the bed – boots and all – lying back against one of the pillows and you shuffle to lean into his side, leaving a little space. He wraps his left arm around you without thought, pulls you in closer so your head is laying on his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He begins to rub his palm on your lower back in soothing circles – mindful not to go higher with the bruising. He can feel the rate at which your heart is pounding.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Can we just…?” You squeeze your eyes closed tight. “Can we just stay like this in silence for a bit? Please.”

“Of course – anything you need.”

You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on touch to calm your heartbeat - relishing the warmth of his chest on your cheek, his palm on your back and the sound of his steady heartbeat. It doesn’t take long for you to relax again in his embrace, another wave of exhaustion rolling over you from the shock.

“Dove?” He asks gently, cautiously when you’re on the precipice of sleep.

You don’t reply, the effort too great.

“What are we gonna do, huh?” He whispers, giving you a light squeeze.

You feel him press a long kiss to your crown.

He’s just extinguished a cigarette, but he already needs another as his associate makes a beeline across the office, a shit-eating grin on his face. Fucker shouldn’t look so happy. He bangs the packet on the table to retrieve another, lighting it and taking a deep drag as a single printed page is laid before him. He looks down – a list of addresses divided into columns that mean absolutely nothing. “What’s this shit?”

“Addresses.” His companion answers, tapping the paper enthusiastically with his every word. “But, more importantly, a list of DSO assets. As you’ll see, there are quite a few of them, all dotted around the States.” He takes another drag of his cigarette, waiting for him to continue. “And I happen to know some of these are designated safe houses - equipped with state-of-the-art alarm and surveillance systems.”

“Right. Do you have a point?”

“Getting there. Alarm systems are all connected to the central hub, so yours truly worked his magic and set all active alarms on the system to trigger at the same time.”

“And why should I care?”

“You should care because only one alarm triggered, suggesting there’s only one in use.” His companion dips his hand in his pocket, pulling out another sheet of paper and a pen. He places it down besides the list of addresses to reveal a grainy CCTV still of a figure and proceeds to pull the cap off the pen off with his teeth, spitting it out on the table and circles an address.

“And that means…?” “That means…” He draws a circle around the grainy image of you laying at the bottom a stairwell, “I know where she is.”

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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forbebeandjam · 2 months ago

Note

BADA AND Y/N IN THEIR HONEYMOON AFTER THE WEDDING!!! i beg. 🌝

Forever Mine | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | Fluff, smut

Summary: It is now alone time after the wedding for a sweet, sweet honeymoon

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

A/N: this if from a book previously written called “Possessiveness or Love” which is a Bada Lee x Reader book and I’ll link it if you want to check it out. Anyway! Hope you enjoy!! Love youuuu

Taglist: @babybeastluv @jellysaidshit

•🤍🖤🩶•

Minah worked on Bada’s makeup. She added some peachy blush after doing a soft eyeshadow look and finished off with setting spray and a coral lip.

"You look beautiful, Bada," Minah said.

"I can only imagine how Y/N looks right now. I wanna go see her. I'm going," Bada impatiently said as she stood up but Minah and Sowoen managed to pull her down.

"She's losing her mind. Stop that or I will tie you down to this chair until you're needed at the alter," Minah said as held her shoulders down.

"I have to go take a look at the bride. I'll see you girls later," Sowoen said as she left the room.

"Come on! I just want to take a small peak at her," Bada pouted.

"You know that your aegyo only works on Y/N, right? Besides, you'll see her in around ten minutes. Calm down," Minah said and fixed her own makeup.

"Why are you so eager anyway? Like you didn't spend the whole week with her until yesterday morning when you two got separated," Kyma added making Bada huff.

"Bada. You need to go to the altar now. Y/N is ready," said Sowoen as he walked into the room. Bada immediately shot up from her chair and walked out of the room with the girls.

"Do I get to see her now?" she asked.

"No. In about a few minutes, the ceremony will start and you get to see her then. Right now they just need us ready to go. I still don't understand why you chose us instead of girls," Minah said.

In Y/N’s room things were chaotic. Everyone ran from side to side trying to find things and get ready.

"You guys are actually more stressed than I am. Calm down. Bada is probably too relaxed right now and you are losing it. Hand me the necklace there," Y/N said and Sowoen gave it to her and helped her put it on.

"I'm beyond ready for this. Have some tissue ready because I'm so sure I'm going to cry," Y/N said as she slipped on her shoes.

"Five minutes, Y/N," Minah said as she peeked her head into the room.

"Shit! it takes me three minutes to fix my dress. Help me," She said as she started to make her way to the beach.

Y/N's mother had perfectly planned the wedding. She planned the wedding at the California beach.

Bada's back was turned to the guests as she waited for Y/N's entrance. She gulped hard as she wiped her hands on her suit.

"Can I get you a handkerchief?" Bada’s maid of honor asked.

"I'm okay. Thank you. I just can't wait to see her," Bada responded. A wide smile seemed to be painted on everyone's face except for Bada's. Bada was shaking on the inside, trying to hold back any tears.

The music was cued making Bada jump a bit and she saw the girls line up in front of her. They smiled brightly at Bada.

"She looks beautiful. You can turn around now," Dami said. Bada didn't wait one millisecond to turn around and take a look at Y/N but she didn't find her. As she looked around eagerly, she spotted the girl walking from behind a curtain. She was holding onto her dad's arm and her dress was beautifully shining under the sun.

Bada's face immediately turned into a soft pout and her tears could not be held back anymore. Minah handed her a tissue and she started patting her eyes dry for a better vision of the girl walking down the aisle.

"I get to marry her? Is this for real?"

Y/N's eyes felt watery as well but she held back her tears.

"It feels like it was yesterday when I would have to walk you down the hall to your first-grade class. Now look at us. I'm going to miss your contagious laugh and your random hugs and kisses but now you will bless Bada with those. She needs them more than me," Y/N's father said into her ear making her sob and cry like a little girl.

After drying her tears they continued to walk. They reached the tall girl and Y/N's father presented the girl before Bada.

"Please take care of my only baby girl. She will always be my baby and I trust you with my heart," Bada bowed and the man walked away to his seat.

"You look as beautiful as ever. I love you," Bada said.

"I love you too," Y/N replied.

"Dear beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the union of these two lovely souls. Marriage is a live testimony of love. They have shown us that love has no boundaries. That even if you aren't sure of your feelings, the truth always comes out. Their families and friends are also witnesses of their undying love for each other..." the officiant continued to talk while Bada and Y/N played with each other's hands flashing random small smiles and shedding tears.

"Miss Kim, you may start with your vows," Y/N cleared her throat before speaking.

"I had a hard time writing these because I usually speak from the heart but here I go... I have to say that moving to Korea was the best decision I've taken in my life. Meeting you was such a roller coaster of emotions but I don't regret it one bit,” she made a pause and Dami dried her tears.

"Therefore I will remain by your side till the end of my days. I promise to never leave you and to be there for you even when you make me mad. I promise to always be by your side even in our worst moments because you saved me and I can never repay you for all you've done for me. I love you," Y/N finished her speech and put her card away.

"Are we chopped liver?" Y/N’s brother said earning a smack from grandma and causing everyone to laugh. Bada pulled out her notes and cleared her throat.

"Y/N Kim... one second... I'm going to cry," she said and Y/N let out a chuckle as she caressed Bada's cheek.

"I can't begin to explain how happy I am. I am filled with so much euphoria right now I can't stop crying. It was always so hard for me to let people in my life, I was too afraid I would end up losing them, and the moment I decided to let you in I wanted to protect you with my life. I felt like I failed and I had such a hard time without you so thank you. Thank you for allowing me to trust once again because trust in you becomes so easy. I can live like I was meant to. So, I promise to care for you and spoil you. Most importantly, I promise to do everything I can to make sure you feel loved and beautiful every day for the rest of our lives together," Bada gave her hand a small squeeze and nodded.

"Y/N Kim, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Y/N replied.

"Bada Lee, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Bada said.

The two girls looked deep into each other's eyes. Minah walked up to them and gave them the rings. They slid each other's rings.

"Seeing that you said your vows to each other in the presence of witnesses. I, an authorized officiant under the law, with the power vested in me, pronounce you a married couple. You can now kiss your bride,"

Bada walked up to Y/N and kissed her softly. They got lost in the sweet moment snapping back into the present as they heard cheers and claps from the guests. The moment was like eating sweet and creamy chocolate after having something bitter.

They smiled into the kiss and walked to the place where that party would take place. They sat down and let the guests party and celebrate around the, occasionally approaching them to congratulate them and give them a few sweet words.

"I will go get us another drink," Bada said as she stood up but Y/N pulled her arm and brought her lips close to her ear.

"What if we ditch the party and go to our room?" she whispered sending shivers through Bada's entire body.

Tatter and Dami noticed how the girls were trying to run away. The two girls looked around to make sure everyone was distracted and started to leave the place.

"Are they really thinking about leaving? It's not even ten," Dami said as she tried to go after them but they were stopped by Y/N's mother.

"Let them be. Look at how happy they look running away. I just want to keep that smile on their faces," she said as took the girls back to the dance floor.

Bada helped Y/N by lifting the dress as they ran through the sand. They were laughing like lunatics and when they finally made it to the room, Bada took the opportunity and slammed her lips against Y/N's.

The kiss became more heated by the second until Y/N broke the kiss and turned her back to Bada.

"Take it off for me," she said. Bada unzipped the dress and planted small kisses on her shoulder. Y/N bit her lip to trap any moan.

Bada was greeted by the girls revealing white lace. She started taking off her clothes as Y/N stepped out of the dress and pushed it to the side.

"You're perfect in every way, my love," Bada said as she traced her waistline and sat her down on her lap. She initiated another steamy kiss and unclasped her bra. Y/N's hands were tangled in the girl's hair.

A small whimpering noise escaped Y/N's lips as she felt Bada's hand slip inside her underwear.

"My baby. Only mine and mine forever," Bada said as she let the girl slowly on the bed and hovered above her. She removed the remaining clothing from her body and Y/N's while kissing the girl under her.

Bada used one of her fingers to feel Y/N's wet core and brought it to her mouth as she licked it. She bit her lip and smirked.

"What a sweet taste. I want more," She lowered herself and began kissing Y/N's thighs softly blowing on her entrance.

"Baby, please," Y/N said as she shut her eyes.

"Anything for my wife. My lovely, perfect, and beautiful wife," Bada said and immediately attached the girl's clit with her tongue, swirling and pushing down. Y/N’s back arched and her hands were tangled in the girls hair.

Bada moaned into her dripping core as she licked up all of her juices making Y/N wetter by the second.

"Ah~ mh~ baby!" Y/N let out moans. Her legs closing by the feeling but Bada used her hand to keep them open.

Her eyes rolled back and her breathing was becoming irregular. Bada was giving her a great pleasure that she couldn't think well. She gripped the sheets as she felt Bada slide two fingers inside of her.

"Bada~ fuck... don't stop... please," the girl said as she started shaking in her spot. Bada sped up her pace. She used her free hand to intertwine their hands together.

With every thrust, she would hit her wife’s sweet spot, sinking deeper into it each time.

"I'm close," Y/N managed to blurt out and her back began to arch once again.

"Cum for me, baby. Let me taste you," Bada said as she curled her fingers inside of her and Y/N let out a loud moan, releasing all over Bada’s lips and fingers. Bada licked her clean and moved up to kiss her.

"Let me-" Y/N said as she tried to get up but Bada managed to pinne her back down.

"Let's make tonight all about you. You deserve it," she said as she continued to kiss her.

Bada kept going all night, giving Y/N the pleasure she deserved and needed.

"Good morning, my love," Y/N said as she looked at Bada's sleepy aspect. She smiled brightly as she saw Bada pouting when the light hit her eyes directly. Y/N used her hand to cover the light from her eyes as Bada wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her closer.

"Should we get up?" she asked and Bada shook her head.

"I wanna stay like this the whole day. I don't want to let you go," She said in a raspy morning voice making Y/N chuckle at her cuteness.

"It's two in the afternoon and I'm hungry," Y/N replied.

"Order room service. I don't want to get up," Bada replied. Y/N sighed and grabbed the phone to order some of their favorite foods.

"Can you at least sit up and let me go so I can get up? I really need to use the bathroom," she said.

Bada yawned and began to sit up. Before Y/N could get up, she grabbed her arm.

"Don't take too long. I miss you already," Y/N rolled her eyes at Bada's words and tried to get up.

Key word: tried.

"Bada, I need your help," she said. Bada sat up and looked at the naked girl confused.

"What's wrong, baby?" she asked as she got up, dressed in only an oversized t-shirt and trousers.

"Well... I can't... I can't walk," She said in embracement causing the tall girl to chuckle. Y/N hit her arm and held onto her shoulders. Bada slid one of her large t-shirts on the girl's body and carried her to the bathroom.

After handling her business she asked Bada to help her back to the bed and she did, as well as helping her get dressed. She opened the door for the food and sat next to Y/N as she set up the food.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" the girl in bed asked. Bada turned to her trying to hide a big smile.

"How could I not? I get to take care of you and feed you in bed and we get to stay here together," Bada replied as she brought food close to Y/N's mouth. The girl glared at her as she opened her mouth to eat the food.

"Aw~ don't be grumpy. You'll feel better after we take a nice warm bath and then we can go down to the beach. I'm sorry I hurt you, baby. I just wanted to make you feel good," she said before she drank a bit of coffee.

"I'm not complaining. It was so worth it. Now, feed me," Y/N said as she let out a small giggle and they ate the food with giggles and kisses.

Thank you for reading 🩵

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