#is he the same guy or a different guy than the hand in the intro cus idk

[illum1z]

snow cream

Roommate!Yunho x F!Reader

summary: Six months of living under the same roof, and you barely knew the guy. You both always came and went, to and from your jobs and school, only ever interacting in the kitchen or the living room late at night when you wanted a glass of water or he wanted to watch TV. But when winter rolls around and the snowstorms get heavy, maybe somehow you could warm up to each other…

tags: snowed in, forced proximity(?), attempt at humor, fluff, mutual pining, hand kink (duh), soft mdom, petnames (baby, angel face, pretty girl, slut etc.), Yu LOVES touching you, handjob, nipple sucking, fingering, tension, unprotected sex (BOOOOO), lotus positon, he talks alot, multiple orgasms, aftercare, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 7.2k

notes: sort of based around a nsfw audio I listened to a couple years ago LMAO.

tracklist: bad liar, poison, intro: singularity

“Reports are flowing in from the NWS about upcoming snowstorms, which are expected to reach record levels; the surrounding area is expecting up to 6 inches. Officials are closing roads and the district schools are shutting down until-”

“Just my luck, huh?” You switched off your phone and rested your head against your steering wheel with an exasperated sigh. You had seen the beginning of the snowfall that week, just light flakes here and there, but they weren't sticking.

But of course mother nature had to give a big fuck you and mess with your plans that weekened with 6 inches of snow. Roads were closing, and so were the stores, so you needed to be in and out before the snowstorm picked up.

You rubbed your temples before switching your car off, getting out, and walking into the grocery store with your original plan in mind.

You had planned to pick up some ingredients for some appetizers you were going to bring to one of your friends' birthdays, but you had frowned when they texted your group chat, saying the party had been cancelled because of snowfall.

That's what led you to the news, deflating your excitement. Instead of being here for groceries, you were here to stock up on supplies. And so was everybody else. The store was packed with people. Mothers are rushing and snatching boxes of cereal off the shelf. Dads are stocking up on batteries and jugs of water. The poor employees were at war with the panicking public. Quickly as you could, you grabbed a cart and picked up some essentials. Batteries. Toilet paper. Bottled water. Some nonperishables. While walking past the home section, you noticed a couple of displays where they were selling large fleece blankets.

You eyed them for a second, debating if you should get one.

Maybe two.

One for you, one for your roommate. Jeong Yunho. 

You had met him on Craigslist whilst looking for roommate listings. You decided community college was best for your budget years ago, but you needed to find somewhere else to live. Soon. Living with your parents is not for the weak.

You spent hours on different websites, desperate to find somewhere close and affordable. Maybe also a roommate who has a low chance of murdering you in your sleep.

You stumbled across the listing one night, hope slowly dwindling at the awful market.

2 bedrooms. 2 baths. 600 per month. Cats are welcome. Email for more information.

Immediately, you jumped on it because there was no way you would be able to find anything cheaper than this, unfortunately. You emailed him all your information. About your job and schedule, and made sure to mention that you would like to bring your cat, Patches. About a week later, you had driven to the house to look around and discuss final plans and agreements. Along with you, you brought your cat so she could become accustomed to the new living space.

The house was cute and quaint, a little grey and white bungalow with a few bushes on either side of the steps that led up to the black door. A decent-sized front yard, neat and green, with a driveway with just enough space for two cars. Perfect. 

When you met the person who posted the listing, you had pulled up to the house, parking your car behind another one already in the driveway. He was on the porch, in the process of carrying some bags inside the house.. When he saw you, he waved for you to follow him inside. He showed you to your room, talked about rent and policies. You both established some privacy rules, and he was petting your cat the entire time. He seemed to take a liking to her immediately. Yunho had you sign some things, and then that was it. Simple, fast, and easy. A few days later, you had moved your stuff in, and from then on, you and Yunho barely interacted.

He said that he’s usually at one of his friends' houses, at work or class, or in his room playing games. This was perfect for you; you enjoyed your privacy, and if you were being honest, you were nervous around Yunho.

He had this boyish charm to him that made your heart flutter; he was tall and spoke to you gently, as if he were too loud, he might scare you. He had dark brown hair that parted in the middle, with bangs that sometimes covered his eyes. And you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that your gaze always drifted to his hands whenever you saw him. Large and slender, the veins prominent like a roadmap.

 He always made sure that you knew where he was going when he went somewhere with a text like “At friends,” or “Out drinking.”

Another thing you had noticed while living with him was that it was like he stole your cat from you. IF you couldn't find your cat anywhere, it was safe to assume she was in Yunho's room. She followed him around the apartment all the time, whenever he sat on the couch to watch TV, she was in his lap. Whenever he was in the kitchen cooking, she was perched on the counter watching intently.

One day, you came home and saw Yunho on the couch with her. Usually, she’d get up and greet you by rubbing her face against your legs. Instead, she stayed put, gave you a curt meow, and that was it.

You walked by the back of the couch and narrowed your eyes at her, mouthing the words “traitor” before retreating to your room.  

You ran your hand over the navy blue fleece blanket that was folded next to a similar white one. Making up your mind, you dropped the blue blanket in your cart as well as the white one. After some more shopping, you checked out and began your drive home, the snow beginning to fall again. 

Your mind wandered back to your roommate again. You're pretty sure he was at a friend's house right now, you just hoped he would make it home safe. Driving home through the snow was certainly a feat. Everyone on the road opted to go under the speed limit in hopes they wouldn't go sliding at a sharp turn. A blanket of white began to accumulate on the ground, and it was growing increasingly difficult to see through the snow swirling in the air.

After a grueling and stressful journey, you returned to the house safely. The yard was a pure, sparkling white, untouched like a fresh, clean blanket. You gathered your bags and stepped out of the car, trudging through the snow as it only continued to climb higher and higher. As you suspected, Yunho’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

You made it inside, the warmth of the heater immediately making you shed your jacket as you dropped the bags on the table. As soon as you did, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a text from Yunho.

“Be home later.” Simple and quick. You thought for a moment whether you should text back. Your fingers began typing, and then you hit send.

“Be safe.” A second later, it buzzed again.

“Will do.”

You felt stupid for the way your heart clenched a little. You could count on three hands how many conversations you’ve had with him that lasted longer than a minute. Words are always fleeting between you two, always too busy for anything more than a good morning or an update on bills. But Yunho always responded to your texts with earnestness, replying fast and confidently. It was never anything deep, but whenever you asked what he wanted for dinner, he always responded with whatever it was he wanted, with a smiley face and a thank you.

He never really engaged in any more conversation than that, but for some reason, you could tell her cared more than he let on.

You put away all the things you bought, deciding to place the blanket you bought for Yunho on the couch so he’d see it when he got home. You cleaned up a little, because if you’re going to be snowed in, at least let the place be neat.

After some light cleaning, you had a shower and decided that for tonight’s dinner, you’d make some chili, so that way you would have leftovers for the upcoming days. Tonight was usually Yunho’s night for meals, but you were feeling froggy.

Connecting your speaker to your phone, you cleaned up your area and put on some music, getting ready to make dinner. You were in your zone, chopping tomatoes and browning the beef. The music flowed from your speaker, and the house was filled with a cozy feeling. You were an avid big light hater, so a few lamps and candles here and there set a soothing ambient lighting. The sun was setting, and the snow was picking up, the wind howling outside.

After another hour or so, dinner was done, and Yunho still wasn’t home. It was 8 pm. He’s usually out past 11, but because of the storm, you had assumed he’d be back earlier. You decided to shoot him a test, for your own mental fortitude. The snow had calmed, gentle snowfall dusting your windows.

“Are you on your way home? I made chili.” Send.

You waited a minute or two. No response. You rested your elbows on the kitchen island, waiting for his reply.

The three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of your messages, and he was typing.

It stopped for a second, then started up again.

“Can you come outside?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at such a weird question. You thought he was with his friends. He was typing again.

“Down the street.”

“Stuck in the snow.”

“Please.” 

You were so confused. Quickly, you slipped on your coat and your shoes by the door. You slipped your phone in your pocket and opened your front door. The cold hit your face like a mallet, and immediately your nose started to burn. But it was beautiful outside. Fresh snow everywhere. It was dark outside well into the night, but the snow was so white it was like it provided a little glow of its own. Snowflakes flurried from the sky, landing all over your clothes. You stepped into the front yard, and half of your calf sank completely beneath the surface of the fluff.

You, albeit with some trouble, waded through your front yard and stepped out onto the icy street nearly losing your footing and busting your ass. The neighborhood was silent, not a soul in sight, the end of the street being swallowed in black emptiness. 

But on the other end of the street, a lone car pulled off to the curb, headlights on as the snow swirled around the warm beams of light in a dancing flurry.

Beside it was your roommate, waving at you, bundled in a coat and scarf, grey sweatpants, and a desperate look on his face.

You started to walk towards him, doing your best not to slip and fall. “What the hell is going on?” You exclaim as you walk towards him. His tires were buried in the snow, and his windshield wipers were swaying steadily, clearing the flakes off the glass.

When you were about 6 steps away from reaching him, you began to lose your footing, the ice seeming slicker than before.

“Careful-careful-careful!” Yunho reached his hands forward and took a step in an attempt to catch you, but it was too late. 

“Shit!” your feet slipped from underneath you and after a couple slips and slides fighting to stay up, you ultimately fell directly on your ass, a sharp pain shooting up your tailbone.

You groaned, hand reaching back and rubbing your lower back. Immediately, the wet ice soaked your pants uncomfortably, and you already knew you’d wake up tomorrow with a nasty bruise.

Silence fell as you sat in defeat and mulled your pain, but Yunho was oddly quiet. You raised your eyes to look at him. He had one hand over his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in shock, and his eyes slowly narrowed as he took you in.

“Laugh. I dare you.” You glared at him, wincing at the sharp pain crawling up your tailbone.

“Jeong Yunho, you are a child.” You rolled your eyes as he busted out into a fit of laughter, one hand on his car while the other stayed on his mouth. You turned and got ready to get up so you could hit him.

“N-No wait stop!” he shouted between fits of giggles, his arms coming down and trying to pull you up by your arms, while simultaneously avoiding your violent hands.

“I’m sorry, let me just- hold on- stop trying to hit me (Name)! I'm trying to help you.”

“Well then, stop laughing at me!” His own feet were starting to lose friction on this ice as he felt his body sway as he grabbed you.

“If you don’t stop moving, you’re gonna take us both down!” Yunho tried to manhandle you back up, but unfortunately he lost it and tumbled down right next to you, accidentally yanking you onto your back as he landed on his ass.

“Goddamnit” Yunho laid back in the snow, seemingly giving up on trying to get either one of you on your feet. You giggled behind your hand as you looked at him, his hair all messy and dusted with snowflakes.

He glanced at you and sighed. “Go ahead. It's only fair.” You took that opportunity to laugh in his face, him lightening up and joining you.

When you both calmed down, you looked behind him at his car. “So what happened, you just got lodged in the snow?”

“Wow, real astute (Name). Did I also mention that it’s snowing outside? How crazy is that?” You moved to smack his shoulder at his smart alecness, but he dodged.

“Stop trying to hit me, and help me move my car.” Bewildered, you watch as he stumbled and tried to stand up, feet slipping here and there as he finally stood upright. Like a baby penguin

“Help you push the car?” You snorted and tried to stand up yourself grunting. “Yeah, that's like not happening. Especially on this ice. You’re just going to have to leave it here until some of the snow melts.” Yunho looked at you like you had just told him something outrageous.

“Are you serious?” He glared at you, noticing how you made no move to come over and start pushing the car. “Insane actually…” he mumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he watched the snow fall from the night sky.

“Listen, I made dinner tonight. It's chili. Come home for now, it's cold, and the snow will pick back up again soon. Come inside, and we can worry about this later.” Yunho stopped and seemed to think to himself for a second, before his eyes flicked over to yours.

He looked at you with a surprising gentleness, roving over your face before landing on your lips for a fraction of a second, so fast you didn’t catch it.

“Alright.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, let's go inside. It's okay. We can worry about it later.”

“That's what I said,” you chirped as you turned your back, beginning the slippery journey back to the house.

“I know that's what you said. I was just rephrasing.” Yunho followed behind, shuffling his feet on the ice so he wouldn’t have to pick them up and risk stepping wrong. It was silent on the way back, both of you too focused on not falling again.

You shed your shoes and coat by the door, turning to Yunho and pointing to the rug on the porch.

“Shoes.” You stated. Yunho looked down and removed his shoes, setting them next to yours.

Satisfied you opened the door, you hung your coat on the hanger in the foyer. “I just cleaned the house.” You mumbled to yourself, as if to affirm the reason you made him leave his snow-filled shoes outside.

Yunho followed behind, hanging his own coat and scarf on the rack. You sighed and fell on the couch, groaning in relief at the warmth that surrounded you.

“There’s chili in the kitchen if you want some.” You closed your eyes, basking in the warmth. The pine candle you lit made the house smell so comforting, taking in a deep breath, you heard Yunho’s breath hitch. When you realized he hadn't said anything yet, you peeked open an eye, only to catch him looking away from you.

His arms came up, smoothly directing his gaze down at his hands, fidgeting and playing with his fingers like he was bored.

He was almost caught, your shirt had ridden up when you laid on the couch, exposing your belly and the hem stopping right where your underboob began. Yunho’s brain nearly short-circuited at the sight, wondering what it would feel like to lie to you on his bed and drag his big hands up and down your waist, squeezing and kneading and feeling you…

He blinked, realizing he was much too far in his fantasy, expecting you to be looking at him like he was a pervert. Instead, he caught your eyes glued to his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. You blinked once. Twice. Before turning round and snatching up the remote, switching the TV on.

“Like I said, dinner’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Quickly gaining your composure like you weren't imagining his fingers inside of you, you switched to a cooking channel and sat on the couch, full attention on the screen.

“What's this?” Yunho tapped the back of the couch. “A blanket?” You didn’t look back at him, too embarrassed to show your face.

“Oh yeah, when I was at the store, I saw they were selling soft blankets, so I got you one.” You shrugged it off. When he didn’t respond, you assumed that he just went to the kitchen to eat.

A few more beats of silence, and you thought you were in the clear from your way too hot roommate, when his gentle, rich voice hit your ears like a truck, and you felt your core clench hard.

“Thank you (Name), you’re such a sweetheart. Thanks for always thinking of me.” 

Like someone just shot you, you whipped your head around to see Yunho holding the blanket in his hands, towering over you, standing behind the couch. His fingers dipping into the soft, navy blue waves of fleece, his lips upturned in a soft smile, and his eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

He was going to kill you. His hair fell in front of his eyes as his hands slowly caressed the blanket he held, his posture was relaxed as his eyes remained fixed on you, and you swear you saw them flick to your lips for a second. 

Your heart stopped and fell to your ass, immediately nervousness took over your body and you felt like a hot mess.

 After a few seconds of silence, Yunho’s smile fell, and his eyebrows knitted, like he was frustrated. He leaned his head back and shoved the blanket in his face, groaning into it.

“Don't… look at me like that.” Yunho’s muffled voice spilled from behind the blanket in his face, and you went rigid. How were you looking at him?

“Well, I don't look at me like that either!” You exclaimed, your voice shaking slightly. Yunho moved the blanket from his face, butting on the back of the couch. His eyes locked with yours again. Every time you looked away, he stepped a little closer, until he was sitting next to you.

“Hey, uh. Back up maybe?” You chided, trying to hide how much of a mess he was able to make of you just by looking at you.

“No.” Yunho challenged, looking at you intently. “Stop looking away and look at me.” So you did, you gazed into his eyes and immediately felt weak. His pupils were BLOWN. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, eyebrows cinched as he stared at you like he was trying to pin you to your spot.

He wasn’t saying anything, but he didn’t look like he was thinking either. He was just staring. You were starting to feel put on the spot, and you were about to make an excuse to go use the bathroom. 

“You’re so fuckng pretty,” Yunho whispered. You nearly choked on your spit, but his hand lifted and dragged his fingertips down the bridge of your nose with feather-light gentleness, along your eyebrow, along your jawline. Like he was mapping out your face.

“Yunho…” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke too loudly, it could shatter the atmosphere. The air was thick, and the wind outside howled as the snow picked up again. The house almost seemed too hot now, and frankly, a snowball to the face wouldn’t be so bad right now. Yunho gnawed on his bottom lip.

“How come you never talk to me?” You suddenly blurted it out, instantly regretting it when it slipped out of your mouth. Yunho, obviously taken aback by your question, paused his touches on your face. He let his hand fall onto his lap and quickly grabbed his hand again, encasing it between your own two.

“What I meant is! Like, why don’t we take or hang out more often? I mean that I would like to, not that you… I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about.” Yunho watched as you stumbled over your words, a smile crossing his face again as he chuckled at your franticness.

“(Name), (Name), stop.” The hand he held in your grasp, gently pulled from you, now holding your wrist. Yunho lowered his head and looked at your hand. Keeping his head down, his eyes lifted to meet yours as his thumb pressed onto the pulse point on the inside of your wrist. His other hand came up to your face, cradling your jaw softly.

Your chest felt like it was going to explode, overwhelmed with how Yunho was so close to you, how he was touching you, how he was looking at you.

“You know, I feel bad. You just thought of me while out shopping and got me a gift, but I don’t have anything for you.” Yunho frowned, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, his fingers tracing lightly up the inside of your arm, drawing circles and stars into your skin.

You shrugged gently, trying to brush it off so you didn't seem like you were expecting something back, because truly you weren’t. You just wanted to get him something.

“It’s nothing, Yu, you don’t have to -“ 

“No, it’s not nothing! Don’t say that.” Yunho squeezed your wrist softly, bringing your arm up and pressing whispers of kisses from your pulse point up your arm, and back down again as he spoke. 

“You’re always so thoughtful. Always checking up on me, making amazing meals for us, looking so pretty all the time.” You swallowed, your face quickly heating up at the praise, and the strain in his voice as he spoke. You struggled to find words to reply to him. You never realized how much he appreciated what you do, and frankly, you didn’t realize how much you did for him. 

“I wanna give you something too.” His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for consent in your eyes. You didn’t say anything. Then you whispered a question, the doubt in your mind creeping into your words.

“Yunho… you don’t have to give me anything-” Before you could continue, he pressed a finger to your lips to stop you from talking.

“Buh buh buh. Stop. This isn’t for you. Well, it is for you, but it's for me too. I want to. I want to take care of you like you take care of me, (Name).” Yunho’s hand landed on your upper thigh, gently kneading it like he was trying to ease the tension, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Is that okay?” The slow, gentle rub on your thigh was comforting, however, not calming in the least. The tendons in his hands flexed as he stroked his hand about the expanse of your leg. He stopped when your thigh tensed, resuming when you opened your mouth to speak.

“Yes.” barely there, in a whisper.

“Words, angel, use them please.” Yunho inched closer to you on the couch, his other hand coming around to cup the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

His smell enveloped you, his bangs tickled your forehead as his staggering breath fanned against your lips. 

“Yes.” You spoke louder, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, testing the waters. “Please.” You expected Yunho to chase your lips, but instead, he just smiled and leaned back.

“I knew it.” Your heart stopped. What's he doing? 

“All this time since you moved in, I thought maybe I was a pervert.” He lifted his hand and gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie on your back on the couch, your head on the armrest. He slowly crawled over on top of your body, one leg slotted between your thighs with his knee just barely brushing your core, his hands pressing against the couch by the sides of your head. He brought his face down to yours, space nonexistent between you two as his calm breaths mingled with your nervous ones.

His eyes locked on yours, shamelessly flicking to your lips every few seconds. “You’re always looking at my hands, baby. Do you like them?”

Your breath hitched, and embarrassment crept up your spine. Yeah, he had noticed. This wasn't a new fascination of yours. You had always been drawn to hands in a way, but his specifically. The long, nimble fingers, the prominent veins, and the sheer size of his palm. 

Teasingly, he brought his hand up to your face, twisting his wrist to give you a good view. Slowly, he moved his hand down against your throat, his fingertips brushing against the side of your neck softly, up and down, trailing along your collarbones and between your breasts, down until they reached the hem of your shirt.

You watched with bated breath as he teased the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers, slightly lifting it and letting it fall back down.

“Want me to take it off for you? Undressing you like a gift, yeah?” A quiet whimper slipped from the back of your throat. His hand slipped under your shirt, flattening his large, warm palm against your stomach and caressing your skin gently.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand up, taking his time mapping out your body, his other hand quietly lifting to cup the back of your neck again, pulling your head up to press your forehead against his. His eyes never left you as you felt his calloused fingertips brush against the underside of your breast, tracing light patterns around your areolas so softly it almost tickled. Your stomach clenched at the touch, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

“You're so soft, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Can’t believe you're letting me..” His large hand cupped your breast, softly kneading the mound.

His fingers twilled the hair on the nape of your neck, occasionally squeezing the back of your neck reassuringly, like he wanted you to know that he had you. He's gonna take care of you.

“Can you whine for me, honey? I love your voice.” You didn't need to hear that, as he slipped his hand from under your shirt, lifting the hem until it sat under your chin.

“Arms up.” Breaking from your stupor, you lifted your arms as he dragged your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dim living room. His eyes moved down and locked on your exposed breasts, your nipples hardening in response to the cold.

“There they are. So pretty.” Without warning, his lips crashed with yours, swallowing your whimpers while his hand found your breast again. Messy and slow, his tongue coaxing your lips open for him and slipping into your mouth. He moaned deep into you, his hand massaging your breast roughly as he lost himself in your mouth.

Every buck of his head he tried to push himself closer into you, like he was trying to melt into you, his lips relentless against you, sucking your plush bottom lip and nipping at your tongue teasingly.

Pulling away was hard for him; it almost hurt. He gave himself a moment to take you in. Swollen lips, blown pupils, and frizzy hair. A mess all for him.

His kisses trailed from the back of your ear down your neck and landed around your breasts. Kissing and soothingly running his tongue around them before latching onto your nipple. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, focused on the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your nipple.

Taking this opportunity, his other hand moved from behind your neck and landed on the waistband of your pants, undoing the buttons before slipping his hand past the waistband of your underwear.

Your eyes shot open again at the feeling of his finger tracing a slow deliberate line up your slit, gathering your wetness. You craned your neck to the side, draping your arm over your mouth and avoiding his hot gaze. Yunho clicked his tongue and with surprising ease let his finger press against your opening, sliding perfectly inside of you, his fingertip brushing against your G-spot softly.

“I’m gonna need you to look at me, baby, I can’t give you what you need if you aren't looking at me.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you bit your bottom lip, ripping your arm away from your eyes and slowly focusing your eyes on him. And you almost wished you hadn’t.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, pupils blown and hair tousled all around his flushed face. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his hand disappearing between your legs, his cheek pressed up against your breast, his tongue lolling against it, tracing lazy patterns around your areola. His eyes took you in, like you were the most stunning thing he had laid eyes on, which was the truth.

His eyelids fluted before his lips wrapped around your nipple again, kissing, licking and sucking as he started dragging his finger inside of you, curling it just right in that way that made your breathing hitch and your eyes roll.

“Yu-, fuck…” He nipped at your nipple, immediately soothing it with his tongue and pulling off of you with a slick pop.

“I’m trying so hard to be respectful…” He ground out the words like talking hurt his throat. You were finding it hard to focus with the attention he was giving your body, perfectly pressing your buttons and winding you up like a toy. Easily slipping another finger inside your cunt, you let a groan out deep from your chest, turning him on impossibly more.

“But baby, fuck you’re making this so hard for me…” He let his mouth wrap around your other nipple, massaging your hip with his free hand as he sloppily licked you up like candy.

“So good- wish I could eat you all day. I do…” he moaned between kisses on your breasts, switching between suckling them and biting. “I do. I really fucking do…”

Yunho’s fingers press inside of you harder, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. Unbeknownst to you, he was grinding his rock hard cock against the cushion of the couch, desperately trying to ease the pain from how hard he was feeling you soak his fingers like a slut. Your eyes watered, and you were finding it hard to breathe as his long fingers reached spots you never could. You thought back on the times you’d sit on your bed, trying so hard to reach an earth-shattering climax, imagining his fingers fucking you instead of your own. Nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

“Fuck baby, cmon get up. On my lap.” Hazily, you watched as he slipped his fingers out of you, sitting on the couch, legs on the ground. Impatiently, his big hands engulfed each side of your waist and lifted your body with ease to sit on his lap. You bent your knees on either side of his thighs, his cock pressed against your wet cunt.

He craned his neck up to look at you, immediately slotting his lips with yours. Working in tandem, his mouth devoured yours, swallowing you up like he needed you to breathe. One hand cupping your neck and pressing you as close as he could, while the other kneaded the flesh of your ass like a stress toy.

Withour thinking, eyes closed as you let him fuck your mouth with his tongue, your hand slipped between your intertwined bodies, fishing his dick from out of his pants, hot and heavy in your hand.

His breath stuttered between his kisses, but his lips never left yours as you wrapped your hand around the upper half, your thumb brushing against the slit on his swollen tip.

He bit your lip accidentally at the stimulation, pulling away from your lips finally to look down at your hand wrapped around him.

His breathing quickened, and his hips bucked, chasing more of your touch as you teasingly played with him. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch and his eyes shake.

“Baby, you handle me so f-fucking well…” His moans were quiet, but so loud in the silence of your shared home, the snow howling just outside. 

Your grip lowered, squeezing the base before dragging your hand up and down the length of him. His head lifted again, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, pressing desperate and wet open-mouth kisses on your collarbone, his barely contained whimpers falling against your heated skin.

“Off..” he groaned into you, but too lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your hand, you didn’t quite understand.

“H-huh?”

“Off, off- clothes off. ‘S so hot…” He shimmied underneath, shedding his shorts and nearly ripping his shirt off. 

He grabbed the base of his cock, urging you to lift your hips so he could press his tip against you.

“Nice and slow for me, sweet girl, sit on it. Take your time, don’t wanna hurt yourself…” His eyes locked with yours as you complied with his request, slowly letting your hips sink down on him.

When his tip pressed in, that stupid, lazy boyish smile of his spread across his face, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyebrows cinched, focused on feeling you take him in like he was meant for you.

“There you go, slow… good, mmm, good fucking girl (Name.)” Your breath caught as you continued to lower your hips down onto him. Bottoming out with a groan, your hands gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into the blades.

You both sat there for a second, relishing the intimate feeling of just being connected. Your breaths mingled, and your thighs shook, his hands massaging your waist, squeezing your hips every time they slid back down.

When Yunho finally spoke, it was strained and so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it.

“Rock your hips. Grind on me pretty, take what you need from me. Make yourself feel good.” 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moving your hands to cradle his head. Cautiously testing the waters, you rolled your hips forward, his tip perfectly dragging against that sweet spot deep in your tummy. The moan you let out was borderline pornographic; nobody had ever been so deep in you, and the fact that it was Yunho was so overwhelming.

“Oh god…” You moaned, pressing your lips into his hair, gasping and whining into the soft locks. His hands gripped your hips and helped you move, pushing and pulling you, moving you back and forth on his cock.

“That's it… fuck, always knew you’d take me so well. Like me all in your guts baby, huh?” You nod against him, your breath hitching when he lifted you so you slid up his cock and back down. Effectivley using your body to fuck himself into you.

“Don't stop, keep rolling those hips, angel, do not stop.” His hand came up and gripped your throat, manuevering your head down so he could kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as you did into his as he fucked you up and down on his cock, your hips contining to grind. With every thrust and every flick of his tongue, his fat tip constantly dragged against that spongy spot inside of you.

A smug laugh slipped past his lips as he watched how desperate you were to feel good, and he was feeling really good about himself as he watched you lose yourself on him.

“Yeah, ride it, baby, ride it…” He bucked his hips, smiling wider when your back went taught feeling the pressure inside of you, as he continued to fuck himself into you slowly, dragging your pleasure out as much as he could.

“This is all for you, for being so good to me all these months, for always being so fucking s-sweet and taking care of me…” He thrusted harder with every other word, like he was enunciating how much this meant to him.

“Thank you Yu- fuck, you’re so big thank you ngh..” He nipped at your bottom lip, giving your throat one more squeeze before moving his hand back down to your hips and forcing your hips to bounce on him a little faster.

“My pretty baby takes dick so well. I regret not fucking you sooner, coulda’ had this pussy a longgg time ago.”  Yunho let his finger slip to your clit, rubbing in pressurized circles, dragging the sweetest noises from you.

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were strangled moans and staggering breaths. Yunho understood, though, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Cumming baby?” He whispered into your mouth, smiling when you nodded, unable to speak, too busy focusing on your impending orgasm. “Good, let go. Feel it and let go for me.”

Like the obedient slut you were for him, your spine straightened and you gasped, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking train, shotting from your toes and electrifyng your body like you had been shocked, up through your stomach to your brain, making you lightheaded.

When he felt you cum, his hips stuttered in you feeling you clench like a vice and began to speed up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- good girl, let me fuck you through it, let me get you through it.”

And thats exactly what he did, without letting up the pace, Yunho fucked into you without abandon, the slap of skin on skin echoing around the living room, mixing wth your broken whines and his concentrated groans as he made you fall apart like shattered glass around his dick.

“T-too much–!’ you cried when he continued to bully inside you, his fingers still not letting up on your overstimulated clit. “Gonna c-cum again, Yunho!”

Yunho felt himself reaching his peak, but he would do anything to get you to cum again. With newfound rigor, he rolled his hips into you rough, meanly kissing you and sucking your tongue like he was searching for water.

“Again, angel, again. You can do it.” He moaned loudly into your mouth, his fingers opting to rub your clit slower, this time pushing upward, the pressure increasing tenfold.

Yunho twitched inside of you, feeling as you toppled over the edge again, the second orgasm so much more intense than the first. You couldn't breath, cumming two times so close together. Your thighs burned, and your head spun, vision blurring for a second.

Yunho groaned loudly, bucking his hips a few final times before spilling himself inside of you, continuing to roll his hips into you, riding both of your climaxes out.

You slumped onto him, hands at your side as you regained your breath, thighs sticky, and your body stuck to his. Yunho kissed along your shoulder, allowing you to regain your senses as he came down from his high as well.

Slowly, when you were finally breathing normal, he grabbed your waist and lifted you off of him, sighing as he watched hs cock slip out of you, placing you back on the couch.

“Don’t move, I'm gonna go grab a rag.” Yunho stood up and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, wearing a pair of sweatpants and carrying a black t-shirt, a pair of underwear, and a wet rag.

He sat down on the floor and gently grabbed your ankles to move your legs to face him, spreading them so he could clean between your thighs. He wiped the cold rag along your inner thighs and cleaned you well, before slipping the pair of underwear over your ankles and up around your hips.

“Here, put this on, it might get cold in here again since we’re not fucking like rabbits anymore.” You both laughed as he handed you the t-shirt. You brought it up to your face, inhaling. It was his, and it smelled like him. You felt fuzzy as you slipped it over your head, smiling when you looked down at him.

He was gazing up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, his hands rubbing absentmindedly along your calves, soothing your aching muscles and placing gentle kisses on your ankles, and up your leg to your knee.

“How are you feeling (Name)?” He waited for your response, his hand never ceasing the gentle massaging.

“Do I even need to say?” You smiled at him, and he smiled back, moving to sit next to you on the couch.

“Guess not, moaned loud enough to wake the neighbors.” Instinctively, you smacked his shoulder in disbelief before the words settled in.

Your smile fell, and a worried look crossed your face. “Was I actually?” He let out a hoot of laughter at your reaction.

“I was joking but you were pretty damn loud. It's okay though, cuz you sounded so pretty.” Yunho kissed along your neck, smiling when you twitched from the tickling feeling.

Suddenly, you remembered the dinner that was still in the kitchen, and you stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Come on Yu, im fucking starving and you made me forget I made dinner.” Yunho chuckled and stood up, following you to the kitchen to make himself a bowl.

With your food in hand, you sat on the couch together, with you lying between his legs, the back of your head lying against his chest as you ate together. The snow fell quietly, and the TV droned in the background as you basked in each other's presence.

“Does this mean you’ll come out of your man cave more now?” Yunho scowled at you and playfully flicked your forehead.

“Don't get smart with me, young lady…” he paused and smiled. 

“Of course, gotta give my girl the attention she deserves, right?”

[autosarcophagy-avaritia]

my roommate hasa to get a phone today because of storage. i cant wait to see how much i want to kill myself by the end of this!

[maximumeffort69]

💫🐾🥦 < i want to fuck the Spongebob narrarator that was in the Krusty krab training video. not frenchie, the guy who was like 'people order our patties'. yk who I'm talking about right

[cinnasite]

nerd gone viral ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

꩜ pairing: nerd!armin arlert x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 3.7k

꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.

☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3

You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.

@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY @/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr @/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you

You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.

"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"

Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement. 

"What? No."

"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."

"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"

Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."

"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."

"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"

Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"

"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."

"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.

"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."

"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."

"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."

"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."

Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.

"Sexual tension about what now?"

Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.

"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."

"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"

Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."

Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over. 

Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.

"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."

Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"

"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."

"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.

"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."

Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."

"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."

"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."

"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"

The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you think?"

You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."

"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."

Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."

"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"

"I already told you."

"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."

You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."

"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."

You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."

"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."

The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"

"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"

Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"

"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"

You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.

"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"

"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."

You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"

Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."

"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"

"Nope."

You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."

"A few?"

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."

"How many more?"

You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."

"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."

You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"

"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"

"Why what?"

Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"

Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."

"Because?"

"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."

The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"

"Hey. Look at me."

The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.

"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.

"I... yes?"

He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks.  "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"

"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.

His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."

"Good to know?"

He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."

Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"

"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"

The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"

"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"

"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"

"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"

That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"

Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."

You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"

"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."

"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"

"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."

"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"

"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."

The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship. 

"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."

In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?" 

"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."

You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."

He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."

The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.

"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"

"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."

He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.

"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.

"I was thinking about what it would feel like."

"What would feel like?"

"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"

"When you kiss me," you whisper.

"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.

"Tell me what else you were thinking about."

"Armin..."

"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."

His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."

"Is that... is that okay?"

Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.

You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.

"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.

"Good," you breathe. "Really good."

His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"

"Want more of it."

He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."

Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."

"Anyone could walk by and see us."

"I know."

"And you don't care?"

You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."

He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.

"Tell me ‘Min."

"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."

You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"

"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily. 

"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it." 

Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.

"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."

"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."

His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.

"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.

Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"

He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."

You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.

"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.

You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.

This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.

"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."

"You imagined this?"

"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."

The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”

"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."

It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.

You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."

He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.

"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"

[shitpostingkats]

Zack Fair has a really fascinating relationship with killing where a lot of the rest of the cast doesn't. He fights people as well as monsters and gradually stops being able to differentiate the two. He helps clear out beasties and ghoulies but he also intros the game with a massive attack on a foreign nation just to shore up corporate interests and for a good chunk of the game places those two activities in the same spot in his mind. One of his side projects at work is quashing the last remnants of rebellion in said occupied country and rooting out the spies in their resistance, at which point he hands them over to his bosses to be interrogated and presumably tortured. But if he comes face to face with the same people in a combat scenario, he won't kill them, because he views their desire to see themselves free as an honorable trait. Then he turns around and attacks hordes of people who defected Shinra. He uses the blunt side of his sword, not to spare lives, but because he doesn't want to damage the sharp edge.

Wutai forces and Genesis clones have a different categorization to him, something he can mentally label as "other". But after Nibelhiem, your primary enemy type becomes other Shinra soldiers. Just after Zack has had his realizations that the monsters he was wiping out share a haunting amount of basic building blocks with his coworkers. And with himself.

Actually, let's pause. Zack is the only character we see have any sort of acceptance of being Jenova-ed. Every other character is unwilling and usually not even a conscious being yet, but Zack A) knows what is being done to him, and B) openly states he wants those monstrous traits for himself. "Those wings / I want them too." Up to this point, every other character has equated being Jenova-ed to being baser, to being subhuman, but Zack at the very beginning tried to convince Angeal that it meant freedom. Power to do what you want.

Zack Fair willingly and with open arms embraced being made less than human because he thought it would give him the strength to break out of captivity.

So he busts out, and the first thing he's greeted with it a horde of enemies that he knows are human, has worked and talked with, and are in fact the same shape and type of person as Cloud. Just a couple cutscenes ago, these were his coworkers.

The easiest way to get through them is to set them on fire and blow up the munitions they're carrying on their person.

(It's such a beautiful demystifying of the elemental system. I love it.)

Oh also, you're on a time limit, so you gotta kill all these guys fast, because they're trying to go for the weak spot, Cloud, who can't fight and is getting dragged away.

After that, the next thing Zack does is find a gun and start taking long ranged killshots.

There's a tangible feeling of a lesson being learned.

Zack is (I think?) the only SOLDIER we ever see use a gun. It's worth noting that even the most fallen of SOLDIERs stick to their flashy blades and their weird swordfights. Other characters even comment how bizarre it is, but ffvii also runs on that fantasy world logic where if you just Get Good enough, swords are just as good as guns if not better. Guns are the lower, more primitive weapon, fit for grunts and hitmen but not elite fighters.

(I could also go into detail on how some of the SOLDIERS weapon are sold as bespoke merch in world, and basically another tool in the toolbox of how to sell these flesh and blood men as mythologized products. But we don't have time to unpack all of that.)

For Zack, we know that his sword is even a symbol of honorable combat and a legacy of trying to do the right thing. Zack picking up a gun is basically debasing himself to being just another man in the field. And it's a sniper rifle. The weapon guaranteed to get him as little contact with his opponent as possible and does not even give them a chance to fight back. But it's whatever gets the job done.

Zack starts the game as someone who kills people, but it's hand-waved aside the same way it is for most everyone else, only for him to bite that awareness apple like five minutes before it becomes absolutely vital he survive at all costs. Zack becomes aware that he's on a slippery slope and due to circumstances has to start sprinting. Over the course of the game, we watch as Zack Fair goes from being someone who kills people to a killer.

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — intro.

next

helloooooo my loves!!! here’s an intro into my comeback fic, american teenagers! i sat on this idea for a little while during my tiny break and i honestly couldn’t get it out of my head. i was heavily inspired by ethel cain for the vibes of it all, hence the name :)

please bear with me in all this as i do get easily overwhelmed and experience burnout very quickly but you guys are always supportive so i have no doubts!!

i’m not sure when the first chapter will be out, but i’m slowly working on it as i am very excited for you guys to read it! lots of love xx

the summer of 1987 was supposed to feel different. everyone in town kept saying it— teachers, parents, the tired voices on the radio between commercials. they said it like graduating highschool meant anything would actually change. but for the kids in the trailer park on the outskirts of town, it wasn’t much more than another hot season stretched out between long days and longer nights. the same parties by the lake, and the same dreams about escaping that no one really believed in.

the days were always the same for you. early mornings at the gas station counter, and evenings at the diner pouring coffee for truckers passing through. anything to keep you out of your father’s path really. your nights were often spent on the roof of your trailer, a cigarette in one hand and a notebook full of half-finished plans and dreams in the other. for daryl, the boy you had known since he was a scrawny little thing with clothes too big for him, it was merle’s shadow and busted knuckles, endless hours fixing bikes and cars in the sun while dreaming of roads that led anywhere but this small town.

you couldn’t remember a time when daryl dixon wasn’t around. his trailer was only three down from yours. you had been inseparable since the day you caught him standing by the broken fence of the trailer park, segregating the southside of town from the rest of the townspeople. the two of you had seemed like an odd pair to everyone else— daryl’s constant silence and smoldering anger along with your rough edges and restless energy —but somehow, it worked.

the summer after highschool felt like your last chance to figure out if those dreams the two of your had whispered about on those late night drives would ever come true. but the weight of this small town— the trailers, the jobs that paid barely enough to keep the lights on and your fathers off your backs, the scars you didn’t talk about —it all hung heavy between the both of you.

you didn’t really realise it at first, the way your feelings for daryl had shifted. it wasn’t a lightning bolt or this big grand revelation in your head. it was slower than that, like the way the heat crept up during june, making itself known in those hazy afternoons and the sweat dripping down your back. you started to notice those small things— how his voice softened when he talked to you, or the way his shoulders relaxed when the two of you were alone. you couldn’t pin point when it changed, only that it had.

daryl wasn’t any better at handling it either. he’d always thought of you as the one person who saw him for more than what people whispered about the dixons— trailer park trash, troublemakers, destined for nothing. you didn’t flinch at the bruises he didn’t explain, or the scars he wouldn’t talk about. you were his anchor, his light. but now, everytime you smiled at him or touched his arm, it felt like something inside him was breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once.

that summer wasn’t just about the heat, the bad decisions, or the endless nights spent sitting under a starless sky. it was about the weight of knowing you could only hold onto each other for so long before something— or someone —pulled you apart.

neither of you had the words to say it yet, but you both knew: the end of your childhood was here, and whatever seemed to come next would either bring you both closer or tear you apart for good.

if you enjoyed this, please give it a like/reblog! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻

stay tuned for the first chapter! if you’d like me to add a tag list, comment below!

[sturnslutz]

the beginning

first actual intro fic of this au/series ts??? a/n at the end of this

the second you rolled down the window, that salty cape cod air hit you straight in the face. it smelled like sunscreen, seaweed, and nostalgia—if nostalgia had a scent—and it made your chest tighten in that weird way. not bad, just… like something was about to happen.

“i swear to fucking god,” solina said from the backseat, practically crawling over your shoulder, “if matt got taller again, i’m throwing hands.”

you snorted, flicking her forehead. “you say that every summer, lina.”

“and i mean it every time, pearl.” she shot back, grinning like a maniac.

your mom gave you a look in the rearview. “can we please not start the violence before we get there? at least wait until we’ve said hello.”

“no promises.” solina muttered.

the car crunched to a stop on the familiar gravel driveway, and just like that, you were back. the sturniolo house looked exactly the same. white paint that needed a touch up, blue shutters that chris claimed gave it “character” and the porch swing that was one gust of wind away from falling off.

on the porch stood marylou and jimmy, smiling like you’d never been gone. and leaning against the railing, and arguing about god knows what, were the triplets.

matt was right there. hair longer than last summer, sun catching on the tips. he had that lazy smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing, and when his eyes caught yours, something in your stomach flipped so violently you thought you might actually die.

“YO!” chris yelled, hopping over the railing because of course he did. “pearl’s finally here. we were about to eat the cake without you.”

you grinned, stepping out of the car. “you would, asshole.” “damn right,” he said, pulling you into a hug that nearly knocked you over. “you look different. like, in a hot way. don’t make it weird.”

“it’s already weird,” you said, shoving him, but you were laughing. nick was next, hugging you tight and whispering, “bitch. bitch. you look insane. matt’s gonna pass the fuck out.”

“nick, shut the fuck up,” you hissed, cheeks burning. he just winked and skipped off to help solina with bags, leaving you to deal with marylou, who immediately smothered you like the queen she was.

“happy belated birthday, sweetheart! we’ve got cake, we’ve got dinner, and nobody’s allowed to make plans tonight. it’s your night, okay? i’ve been waiting for this all week.”

you hugged her tight, smiling into her shoulder. “missed you guys.”

“missed you too, honey,” she said, patting your back. “and wait ‘til you see the cake. pink frosting, just how you like it.”

your mom came around the car, arms full of bags. “marylou, you didn’t have to go all out again. she’s already spoiled enough.”

marylou waved her off. “oh, hush. she only turns eighteen once.” “and we are celebrating all weekend.” your mom said, nudging you. “i brought basically all of her swimsuits, just in case anyone forgets she’s now someone i have to worry about.”

“mom.” you groaned.

“what? i’m just saying. you look great, hon.”

matt hadn’t said anything yet, just watched you with that unreadable expression. you walked up to him, tilting your head.

“hey.”

his smile widened. “hey, birthday girl.” he pulled you into a hug, one hand resting lightly on your waist, and yeah… maybe he had gotten taller. “missed you.”

you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. “missed you too.”

solina cleared her throat dramatically behind you. “so, are we going to stand here all day or what?”

jimmy laughed. “let’s get your stuff inside. and nobody’s touching that cake until after dinner, capisce?”

“we’ll see about that.” chris said as he hopped through the house, making his way to the kitchen.

“yeah, we know fatass. see he’s already running to the kitchen, even though he was just there. 10 minutes ago.” he yelled out before talking to you, solina and matt.

lina laughed. “is nate coming over today?” she asks as she holds the door open for the rest of you. matt gave you a weird look before looking back at her. “yeah, probably after dinner. kid only wants the cake.”

after some time getting unpacked and eating dinner, (not without the unmistakable tension between you and the boys,) it’s time for cake. nate shows up record time after chris texted him that they’re done with dinner, a knock erupting loudly against the front door. “open up!”

solina’s face lit up and looked at you and you smiled. “go say hi,” you mouthed and she shook her head. “i can’t.” she mouthed back and you rolled your eyes.

nathan came running in, probably a bit drunk, and wrapped his arms around you from around the chair, smothering your hair in kisses. “pearl! so good to fuckin’ see you, kid.” nate’s boston accent was very obvious , even though he literally lived in cape cod.

you smiled as you patted his arms. “hey nate.” you looked up at solina, and she didn’t have the best expression. you never really see this face from her, but when she noticed you looking at her, she gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

the cake finally came out, and it looked like something out of a bakery window. pink frosting piled high, way too many sprinkles, and your name written in big, loopy letters. marylou really did go all out, and it was so obnoxiously perfect that you almost wanted to cry.

“okay,” nate said, leaning over your shoulder, “if you don’t eat that corner piece, i will.”

“try me.” you shot back, smacking his hand to which he gasped at, exaggerating.

“friends, friends,” chris said, sliding up next to you and tossing an arm over your shoulders, “no need to fight. i’m happy to feed pearl. with my own hands, if necessary.”

you blinked. “what the hell.” nick laughed so hard he nearly choked on frosting. “you’re disgusting.”

“what?” chris grinned, leaning into you a little. “just being a gentleman.”

you elbowed him, but he didn’t move. “you’re definitely something.” he winked. “you’re welcome.”

matt watched the exchange from across the table, spoon in his mouth, eyes narrowed just slightly. you caught it, the flicker of something, and he quickly looked away, back to his cake like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

your stomach twisted.

you weren’t sure if it was from the sugar or the way matt kept not looking at you.

later, when the kitchen was a wreck of empty plates and a table full of crumbs and pieces of cake, everyone migrated to the back porch, sprawled out under the string lights. the air was cooler now, but still humid.

nick pulled out his phone, camera already rolling. “alright, truth or dare, bitches. no backing out.”

“absolutely not,” your mom called from inside. “you guys can not break anything this year.” marylou followed it up with, “and no skinny dipping! please. last year was enough.”

solina snorted. “that wasn’t even us.”

“it was chris.” your mom corrected.

“guilty.” chris grinned, not even pretending to be sorry.

nick flopped onto the porch steps, eyes on you. “pearl, truth or dare.” you groaned. “you’re really coming for me first?”

“obviously.”

you glanced at solina, who gave you a do it look. matt was sitting nearby, stretching out his legs, eyes flicking to you over the rim of his soda. chris was eyeing you while he moved from his seat with nate, next to you.

“fine. truth.”

nick smirked like he’d been waiting for this. “who do you think is the hottest triplet?”

immediate chaos. chris gasped dramatically, matt nearly spit out his drink, and even jimmy, from inside, yelled, “i don’t wanna know!”

you laughed so hard you nearly doubled over. “nick, you bitch.”

“answer the question, pearl.” solina said, eyes wide, eating this up.

you looked at all three of them. chris, grinning like an idiot, leaning in like he already knew what you’d say, matt, quiet, watching you, waiting.

“okay,” you said slowly, dragging it out, “it’s definitely not nick.”

“rude!” nick clutched his chest like you stabbed him.

you pretended to think, tapping your chin. “hmm. it’s a tie.” chris raised a brow. “between?”

“chris and matt.” you said, shrugging like it meant nothing, but your pulse was fucking insane.

nate and nick were already dying laughing. “oh my god, this is better than i thought.”

matt just looked at you, something in his eyes you couldn’t quite name.

chris bumped your leg with his. “so what you’re saying is, i’ve got a chance.”

you leaned in, close enough that he froze. “not a big one.”

his jaw dropped. “damn.”

“harsh,” solina cackled. “but fair.”

you met matt’s eyes again, and this time, he didn’t look away.

you couldn’t either.

a/n : ok how do we feel… what team are u on? do we like solina? nate? what’s ur thoughts? SPILLLLL

divider creds: @strangergraphics

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss

[kabr0ztrousers]

how about some orientation play? 👀 you decide the perspective! fem character is a lesbian and has a girlfriend, but is convinced (coerced? forced? drugged?) by a big beefy werewolf boi to come home with him “just to hang out as friends”, and she gets dominated, scent-markied, and impregnated by him over the course of days, gf texting her frantically the entire time wondering where she is, concerned something bad happened to her. mr wolf then sends pics and videos of the entire encounter to her gf using her phone while she’s passed out. maybe the gf is into it and joins in, or maybe she’s “okay” with being cucked because she just loves her gf too much to leave her, and becomes an uncomfortable third wheel in their relationship. maybe mr wolf gives her the same treatment and they become a throuple!

Kabr0z Writes episode 111: Orientation

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

The AO3 is filling out, albeit gradually

CWs: noncon; kidnap; oral sex; knotting; impregnation; dykebreaking;

A/N: I am once again asking for your requests, remember folks this show runs on the kindness of strangers keeping things nice and fresh! If you think your submission is too much, drop it into the askbox and add it to the queue!

###############################

You were at a bar when it all started. You and Tabs had had a huge row over... Something or other and you needed to cool your jets before crawling back and admitting she was right. So you'd done what you always did when this happened: got on your glad-rags and went to your favourite watering hole.

That's where you met him.

He introduced himself as Jules. A steely-grey werewolf who clearly spent more time in the gym than most. He wore a mesh top and tight, leather three-quarter length pants. Every rippling sinew of his arms, his legs, his chest were on full display, as was the grotesque bulge between his thighs. This asshole was definitely not leaving anything to the imagination.

He sat next to you and started yapping about something or other, you didn't really care. When he kept buying you drinks you didn't accept, you started to get irritated at him. You moved away, you sat at different tables, the guy stayed on you like stink on a pig.

Eventually you decided to say fuck it, and left. Stepping out into the cold night air, simmering in your irritation at the lupine who'd made it his raison d'etre to irritate you. You hurried away from the bar, moving from light to shadow and back as you passed under the streetlamps. Watching as your shadow lengthened and shortened under you. Only half-aware of the sounds of the city around you.

A hand grabbed you from an alley. Clamping around your mouth and nose as it dragged you struggling into the gloom. A bag fell over your head, filled with sharp-smelling fumes. A punch to the gut sent you gasping. Your head swum. You were out.

You awoke chained to a bedframe. Your feet were manacled to the headboard, your arms stretched behind you to the legs at the foot of the bed, leaving your head hanging perilously over the edge. Your neck hurt like hell as you lifted your head to look around. The room was small, unadorned, bare concrete walls and a steel door, the only illumination coming from a tiny nightlight plugged into an outlet on the wall.

You heard music. Harvest Moon, by Neil Young. Your song.

Wait a minute. It's looping the intro. That's your ringtone.

You struggled against the manacles holding you to the bed, the metal cutting into your skin. They weren't going anywhere. You slumped, trying to get yourself in a more comfortable position to reassess your situation.

The door opened. A figure stood in the doorway, closing it behind them before turning on the light. The asshole from the bar.

"Feeling better?" He crouched next to the bed, pushing his face into yours "You'd been asleep for a day or so, whoever's on that phone really wants to talk to you"

You spat at him, but only got it on yourself

"Sprited, aren't you?" He stood "I'll knock that out of you, don't worry"

You realised then why your head is where it is. The bed was perfectly lined up with his crotch, and you're perfectly positioned as a hole.

He peeled his pants down, just below that bulge. Settling his sheath and balls on your face, giving you no choice but to huff his musk with every breath. You felt as his cock started to emerge, sliding out of the sheath and edging its way onto your face.

You tried to turn away from him, but a strong hand took your head, pinching your nose shut. You held your breath as long as you could before gasping for air. His cock thrust into your mouth, choking you with his spurting precum. He fucked your face, hard and fast, thrusting into your throat and making you choke until he was satisfied, pulling out to cum on your face, before picking up your phone and snapping a photo of you. He showed it to you, your red face, smudged mascara and all, covered in ropes of thick lupine cum.

He laughed, a cruel, barking laugh, and left the unit, leaving you alone with your ringing phone and the glowing nightlight.

The next day he was back, stinking of alcohol. He hadn't changed, or if he had, he had multiples. This time he didn't bother mocking you, wordlessly stripping out of his clothes and climbing onto the bed. He tore off your underwear, flipping up the short dress you'd been wearing for days. Something cold and wet touched your cunt, he was slathering on lube, his fingers working it into your folds as he prepared you. He wasn't planning on going in dry, whether your cunt cooperated or not.

His cock pressed at your entrance as he loomed over you. You'd never taken a real one, only Tabs's strap, and that wasn't particularly big.

He on the other hand, was particularly big. You felt him start to stretch you, screaming for him to stop, to get off you, to let you go. He wasn't listening. He fucked into you, thrusting hard and fast. He didn't care that you weren't enjoying it, you weren't there to enjoy it. You were there to be enjoyed. To be used by him. Your screams turned to sobs, then to whimpers. His cock rubbed against your cervix, already you were leaking that ubiquitous precum. You could feel him filling you, pounding his leaking, throbbing cock into you even as you begged him to stop.

But you weren't begging him to stop, not anymore.

Your moans were little more than "please, please, please"

Your cunt gripping him so sweetly.

Your mouth hung open for him to stuff his tongue into

His knot slipped in to your welcoming hole. You moaned as it engorged, filling you, tying you both together as his fluids thickened. You watched as he pulled your phone out from behind him, pointing it at you as your tongue lolled and your womb filled. You could feel a crust of his dried spunk on your face. You looked straight down the barrel of the camera, still making your pathetic little sounds as the throbbing meat in your cunt unloaded rope after rope into you.

You didn't struggle as he pressed the sensor to your fingertip. As he sent the photos to Tabs. The phone started ringing immediately. He answered it

"Hi there!" He grinned "Aww, she's a little" a grunt "Tied up right now... Tell you what, I'll give you an address. Come alone, and you'll get to see her again."

God, what is she getting herself into?

####################################

There's more to this one, but it's been a rough day writing so far, so we'll leave it here for now, and come back another day to see how this ends...

Spoilers, it won't be well

[admirationandromantics]

Tension-Filled Moments

Another request I got! Hope everything's fine with everyone, currently remodelling my posts, so I guess having some sort of intro here is obligatory? Anyways, requests are still open, so come with more if you want to. Enjoy! <3

Word count: 2,9 k

“Sam, I look ridiculous!” I complain, walking out of the fitting room. I’m wearing a horrid-looking orange-red dress. It highlights my worst features. 

“Okay, I hear you” she sighs. “It looked better on the rack, try the red one instead” she waves her hand dismissively, urging me to get this filth out of her vision. At least she didn’t have to wear it. I take it off, making sure to be careful. I swear to god, if I ruin this and have to pay for it, it’ll be the end of me. The end of my wallet to be specific. Anyone who bought this type of clothing should be ashamed of themselves. I hang it back on the handler, taking forth the red short dress and putting it over my head. It’s dark, fitting, with a neckline that’s a little too low. I love it. I walk out, spinning and parading in front of Sam, and she cheers in response. 

“That’s what I’m talking about! See, you kiss a thousand frogs, you’ll eventually find your prince!” 

“Well, all that time trying on outfits paid off when this was the result” I exclaim, turning and looking at myself in the mirror. I look amazing, hot, sexy. Just like I was planning. 

“Ashley’s wearing brown, right?” I ask, looking over. It was a colour-party, but since no one wanted a colour that had the same letter as the first one in their name, everyone improvised. Sam was gonna wear gold, Chris green, Matt orange… Everyone was different. “I know, she said she wanted to go for something homey, though I think she and Chris will match more than we think” she smirks, and I smile in response. How can the both of them be so oblivious? 

“Think anyone will end up in the same colour?” she asks, a bit worried. 

“Nah, I think Jess made sure of that. She was scared for the same thing” 

“Well then, nothing to worry about” 

***

We make our way up to the Washington residence, the cold autumn wind flowing through our hair. The music is loud enough to be heard from where we parked, and the lights inside are blinking furiously. Sam opens the door for me, and I walk inside, surprised by the lack of people. We are late, at least by half an hour, but only Ashley, Chris and the Washington siblings are here. 

“Hey guys” I greet, walking over. Ashley looks stunning. How can someone look so approachable and glamorous at once, in brown? Chris didn’t put his heart in the outfit, a dark green shirt and tie paired with black pants. Beth arrives, wearing a dark grey suit with a white undershirt. It looks amazing, exactly her style. 

“Hey girls” she greets, walking over to us. She holds out her hands to Sam, signalling for her to take off her jacket. 

“Wow, such gentleman behaviour” Sam comments, taking off her coat, revealing her glittering golden dress. She looks stunning, like a goddess. Everyone looks at her in awe, and I get a glimpse of a slight blush on both her and Beth’s faces. 

“You’re like the sun, like a literal glowing person” Hannah comments, walking past her sister and giving her a hug. She’s wearing a long dark purple dress, almost so dark I can’t see the colour. 

“Matches her personality” I state, opening my jacket to hang up. At this moment, I suddenly feel a warm presence behind me. Something dark, something big. Two hands go to my shoulders, slowly dragging off my jacket. 

“I guess I’ll take this” he whispers, and I immediately recognise the voice. The famous Josh Washington. His breath is going hot against my ear, sending small shivers down my spine. I let him pull off the clothing, painfully slow, head near my neck the entire encounter. I try not to blush, try not to let the erotic images in my head get to me, but it’s hard. Each second feels like several minutes, like the whole room goes dark and we’re the only ones here. 

Safe to say I might have a thing for Josh, but he’ll never know that. We’re those types of friends who always flirt, always take the joke a tad too far, always do something to fluster the other. Everyone has gotten used to it by now, our bickering and small comments. They are never mean, but always have some sort of suggestive undertone to them. As he whispers in my ear, no one pays attention, everyone being busy with each other. If they only knew what goes through my head every time he does something like this. 

I turn around, the jacket finally being far enough down to not be in the way. I meet his face, now awfully close to mine. The things I’m thinking about, the things I want to do right now… 

“Well, I guess chivalry goes in the family” I state, looking him up and down. He’s wearing all black. A black suit with a black shirt. His eyes stand out as the only colour shown. 

“Maybe it does, but you wearing that dress isn’t gonna make it last long” he whispers, just out of earshot for the others. 

“Say, are you staring down my chest right now Joshy?” I ask, a smirk forming on my lips. 

“Hard not to” 

“Funny guy”

“I try to be” 

I clap him on the shoulder in a joking manner before turning to walk over to the others. 

“Well, keep trying” 

They’ve started drinking, everyone having some sort of colourful drink. I grab a blue one, making my way to Hannah. 

“Wow, look at you!” she shrieks, eyes widened. “You look like you just came out of Vogue!” 

I laugh in response, thanking her. “What about you though, looking like you’re about to go to a gala”

She twirls in response, the dress following in a graceful manner. It is truly a stunning one, and the colour is breathtaking. We talk for a while, not about serious stuff, just random things that happened during the week. 

“Mike came to see me” she suddenly says, taking a long sip of her drink. I furrow my brows in confusion. 

“Why?” 

“Well, he had some down-time from his studies” she smiles, giving me a wink. A dark feeling grows in my chest. They’re not close friends, they never have been. 

“And you…” I start, hoping that she finishes my thought. 

“Oh no, no!” she laughs, waving her hand. “Nothing happened, of course not. I would never do that to Emily. We just talked” 

“Right” I sigh, uncomfortable with the whole situation. I know Emily is very insecure, at least deep down. I don’t think she would appreciate her boyfriend coming over to her friend late at night to talk. I look over at Sam, and she’s on her way to the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back Hannah, just have to accompany Sam to the bathroom” I quickly say, making my way to the hall, following the blonde. 

“Psst, Sam!” I whisper-yell, and she turns around, noticing me. She shakes her head, holding her hands forth. 

“Let me come with you, please” I beg, making a pouty face. She rolls her eyes and signals for me to join her. 

“This better be important” she huffs, linking our arms as we walk down. 

“I just wanted a break, heard a little more than I wanted to” I state, relaxing against her. 

“The late visit Hannah got from Mike?” she asks, and I look at her face, confused by how she already knows it. She notices my stare and laughs, a small and gentle one. 

“Heard it from Beth” she explains, and I nod in reply. That makes sense. 

“How long do you need to be gone for?” she asks impatiently.

We stop, a couple of doors away from the bathroom, and I look at her accusingly. She seems anxious, like she doesn’t really want me here. 

“Sam, what’s going on? Are you okay?” I ask, sensing her impatience. 

“Um- I just” she starts, unsure of what to say next. A switch in my head clicks. She snuck out, she doesn’t want me here, and her cheeks are red and flushed. The realisation hits me in a flash. 

“You’re going to have sex with Beth in the bathroom!” I exclaim, proud of my mystery-solving skills. Her hand flies to my mouth, shutting me up. I didn’t realise how loud I was. 

“Are you insane” she scolds, and I immediately feel bad. 

“Sorry Sam” I muffle under her fingers.

Her hand moves away from my mouth, a little at first to check that I won’t scream. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep her away” Josh says, suddenly standing beside us. 

“Josh?” we both say in unison. What is he doing here? 

“I was just-” Sam starts, stammering even more than before. He holds a finger up, and she stops. 

“I absolutely DON’T want to know about my sister’s encounters. Please don’t make me kick you out”

Sam smiles in response, giving him a nod before continuing to the bathroom. She disappears down the hall. 

“Wow, you saved yourself a murder trial” I comment. “I was positive she was gonna kill me” 

“Nah, Sam couldn’t, but Beth would” he adds, holding out his hand for me. I take it, and we start walking back. 

“You know, you should wear suits more often” I say, looking over at him again. 

“Oh, really? Are you into this?” he smirks, eyes catching mine. 

“Maybe a little” I shoot back, and he takes a deep breath. Two can play this game, and he should know how easy it comes for me. I only say what I think. 

“Let’s say I were to slam you against this wall right now, and feel myself up your thigh” he starts, and my cheek flush. Thank god it’s dark here. “How would that make you feel?” 

I feel my heat getting wetter just from the thought. It would never happen, but it’s still something that I think about every night. Often ending in a cold shower. 

“Fine, we can both do this” I say, and he gives me an intriguing look, eager to see what I can come up with. “Let’s say, Josh, I was to slam you against this wall. I would kiss your neck, bite your skin…” I continue, stopping us, and letting my finger trail his upper body. I slowly move it down as I continue. “And I would bend down in front of you, lower, and lower, and lower” I say, each repeating word slower and more sensual than the last. His breath quickens as my hand makes it to his lower stomach. He’s quick to take hold of my wrist before it goes further. 

“You’re good at this” he whispers, faces closing in. He smells good, a mix of pine and cinnamon.

“Don’t start a fight you can’t win Josh” I tease, dragging him over to the party. 

The others have finally arrived. Jess in a stunning light blue, Emily in glittering silver, Mike in white and Matt in orange. 

“Hey guys!” I greet them. Jess gives me a loud shriek, jumping up and down like a child. 

“You look beautiful!” 

“So do you, Jess” I exclaim, and she gives me a little spin. I look over at Emily. She’s got shiny silver pearls in her hair, complimenting her 20s dress. Classy and elegant, like she always is. Hannah approaches her and Mike, and I take that as a sign to leave. If something breaks out, I don’t want to stand in the middle. 

I walk to the kitchen, quick to make myself a drink. I don’t care about which colour, just that it’s strong. Suddenly, a hand makes its way to my waist, grabbing my skin harshly. I bite my lip to stop a sound about to escape from my mouth. If he only knew what doing these small things did to me. Not only this, but the small touches too. The slight brush of our fingers when walking past each other, those beautiful eyes narrowing just a bit, that small lick to his lip whilst talking. Everything gets me going, and it’s exhausting. I turn around to face the culprit. 

“Well, hello again” I smile. 

“Felt the need for another break so quickly? You were barely out” Josh comments. Again, everything seems to fade away as we talk, every single person and object being blurred out in the background. 

“Or maybe I just wanted to get your attention” I tease, biting my lip a tad too noticeable. He glances down at them, his own lips parting slightly in response. 

“You certainly got it” he whispers back, head slowly moving closer to mine. 

“Guys!” Chris shouts, running into the kitchen and slamming the door close. The heat of the moment fades as fast as it came. 

“What’s up Chris?” I ask, and Josh takes a step back, moving to lean on the counter on the opposite side of me. Chris is panting heavily, a light pink shade covering his cheeks. 

“Calm down bro, what’s going on?” 

“I think I’m about to fuck Ashley”

I stare at him, eyes widened. Where did this come from? I thought this would take an eternity for the both of them. 

“Chris, you need to take a breather” I state, holding my hands up for him to calm down. “We already know you want to, but you’re about to?” 

“It just- it happened so fast!” he exclaims, rambling on. 

“Wait, have you already had sex with her? How many people are gonna take advantage of my house tonight?” Josh asks, looking over at me. I smile. 

“Everyone but you darling”

“Oh, but believe me, princess, I’ve got someone on the hook tonight” he winks, and I roll my eyes. 

“Guys listen to me!” Chris yells, stealing our focus back to him. “We were in the hallway, and I think we’re both drunk, I don’t know-”

“You’re definitely both drunk” I interrupt, earning a glare in response. 

“Anyway, and the moment was there, everything was heating up and… Well, she kissed me” 

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. Finally it happened. 

“Dude, are you serious? Well done!” Josh moves to give him a high five, but Chris leaves him hanging, causing him to disappointedly take down his hand again. 

“And what happened after?” I ask, intrigued and excited. 

“Well, we made out for a while, and she said something about ‘being sooooo tired’ so I ran over here to you guys” 

We both look at him, mouths wide open. He just left? She gave him such a hint and he came here instead of being with her? 

“Dude, you messed up” Josh says, hand moving to his head. 

“Ashley is probably waiting for you” I add. It’s like he has a major realisation, eyes widening and a surprised look. 

“Shit, shit, shit” 

“Run man!” Josh urges, and Chris thanks us before running out of the kitchen again. 

When he leaves, I look over at Josh, who’s already facing me. We both burst out laughing, and keep going for at least two minutes. We finally calm down after a bit, and I try to regulate my pulse. 

“God, I can’t breathe” I smile, flapping my hands for air. I feel hot, my face is probably super red and my stomach hurts from all the laughing. 

“You know, there’s other ways to get your breathing like that” he says, and I look up to find him smirking, both hands leaning on the counter behind him. He looks stunning in the black suit, and I can already imagine him taking off the jacket and choking me against the wall. 

“Does that do something to you?” he asks, biting his lip. 

“I’m positively dripping right here where I stand” I answer, not exactly lying. 

“Then you know how I felt in the hallway” 

“Luckily for me, it doesn’t show, you however” I say, pointing to his nether region. 

“You think I don’t know when I turn you on?” He takes some steps closer, leaning a bit over me. 

“As if you’ve ever seen me turned on” I whisper seductively. 

“Trust me, I know. There’s a slight blush on your cheeks” he starts, hand moving to cup my face. “And your body gets incredibly warm” he continues, the other hand moving to my arm. “Of course, there’s also those small squirms, the way you subtly rub your thighs together, as if waiting for me to do something about it” his hand graces down my arm, following down to my hips. 

There’s no air in the room, no way to breathe. His face gradually moves closer, heads tilting a little in opposite directions. My heat pools as his hands continue feeling me up, groping me. One flies to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and pushing me towards him. His hot breath graces my skin, the smell of alcohol and wood mixing. Or noses touch, and- 

The door abruptly opens, and Emily barges in. We hop away from one another. 

“Fucking hell Josh, can you please control your sister?” she asks, irritated and going right for the strong stuff. 

“What’s going on Em?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer. 

“She’s all over Mike, my Mike!” she shouts pouring her drink all the way to the brim of the glass.

“Just chill Emily, everyone knows he’s your boyfriend, she’s not gonna do anything” Josh says, trying to calm her down. 

“You’re right, at least she won’t if her big brother is in the room. Come on, both of you!” she urges, waving her hands like one does with dogs. We look at each other before obliging, walking with her out to the living room.

[werezmastarbucks]

the girl with expensive earrings

masterlist - part 1 of 6

in which you get what you deserve for saving Namjoon's sister

yoongi x clueless!f!nonKorean!reader

i gotta start adding tags because these stories literally come to my head like: dogsitting; party; girl code; confusion; shy!yoongi; setting ppl up; hurt/comfort

author's note: for the sake of being a better person i changed Namjoon's sister's name. not my fault they ALL have siblings already. also as usual i thought it'd be a oneshot, but the story turned out longer. sorry for the beginning: it drags out a little, but i had such a blast writing Minji and also I had to establish... stuff

word count: 4135

warnings: language, mentions of a car accident, overcoming trauma, mentions and depictions of abusive relationship

music: intro: ringwanderung by bts, delicate by taylor swift, girls by the 1975, meanswear by the 1975

You lived hard. Allowing yourself to celebrate sometimes was easy, especially now that you moved to Seoul. Still kind of new to the city, to its spicy food by default, with no warning or label; to its bity weather in December, to its people who never laughed hard in the streets, to the 'take off shoes everywhere' rule, and to the breathtaking beauty of Seoul in early spring. The latter was an ever pleasant awe: seeing the sun coming back again, seeing trees wake up. Seoul was good like honey for the soul that's been shredded to pieces.

The differences in cultures kept you busy, together with your new tight work schedule, so you didn't have a lot of time to ponder on your sad moments. The differences in cultures, that is, some of which shocked you to your core.

The complete absence of girl code on the streets. It became especially evident in Itaewon every weekend. Girls left alone, passed out on the sidewalk, their friends hopping into taxis to go home; the indifference of passing people when a girl yelped in pain as her boyfriend pinched the soft skin on her forearm; friends retreating when a smug and unknown guy approached a drunk lady to try and chat her up. This all made you feel uneasy. As a solo drinker on a Saturday, you noticed these things every time, and always tried to insert yourself into the situation, to an extent. You'd sit on the ground with a sleeping girl and wait for her taxi with her, not even sure she managed to mumble you the right address. You'd call her a made up name and wave your hand from across the street as if you knew her and see her eyes light up in relief, and the eyes of her pursuer go darker. You didn't think yourself a hero for that, mostly you were kind of terrified in those moments.

But there happened only one moment when you got so absolutely furious that you forgot fear.

This little girl, dollfaced and well-dressed, with her long shiny hair, against her supposed boyfriend. The guy was about three times bigger than her, with that kind of pig face that always told you about the character. The golden chain around his neck on top of white tee was nauseating to look at. He was stretching the wovels in his curses towards her, grabbing her by the hand, by the shoulder. The girl wasn't panicking yet, but was attempting to fight him off which he barely noticed. He was probably intoxicated as it was eleven at night in Itaewon. Neon orange, pink and red lights above your heads, noisy torrents of people pushing through to disperse into bars and karaoke places. And nobody paid attention to one girl struggling to get away from an abuser swearing like he stepped out of a cheap drama they produce in bulks every year. Opening his mouth wide, showing teeth. Textbook TV show villain, thinking that nobody would help her anyway.

You were about to leave the street when you spotted them, and, tuning your head around, realized you found yourself in the same pickle as the last time, when you watched a woman jump out of the fifth floor window. Street full of people but everybody is blind. You shrugged your shoulders, pumping yourself up. You're drunk, Y/N, you urged yourself, and when you're drunk you can kick anybody's ass. The fear gets an elephant dose of anesthesia and checks off. There's only them fighting next to an ice cream parlour, and your three cocktails bloodshot eyes. You made your move, bumping into bodies as you tried to cut the short distance. Spotted a bottle half empty on an unoccupied table. Itaewon was beautiful. Cherries in full bloom with wine red light shining through their petals, giving them an ethereal halo, and the distant small pecks of stars, like the girl's earrings. The last second before you intervened, you thought, she's too well dressed and they might be rich, and you might get in trouble. But your mouth was already open.

"Get away from her!" you barked, bottle in your hand, and as you twisted it, the alcohol sipped onto you hand. The guy moved his swollen red-drunken eyes on you and continued his rant with a different recepient. Korean language normally treated you well because most people who spoke it to you were doing it gently, with a mellow hiss, not chewing up their words. The way this person was expressing himself was far away from the romantic murmur you were used to hearing so you didn't understand a word. Except a couple of curse words that usually get memorized first in any language.

The girl though. She immediately moved towards you and stood at your side (but not hid behind) and her eyes stared with slight surprise and undying gratitude.

She replied to her boyfriend in a confident tone, as if you were any taller than her.

The guy reached for you two, and you stroke him on the arm. Your new companion yelped and barged into the fight, crashing down on him with her small and swift fists, the gems in her rings throwing flashes of iridescent fire.

You became friends after that night. Her name was Kim Minji and she was exactly the person deserving to be saved: exhaustingly happy, jovial, enthusiastic, a l i v e. She was going through that breakup with the force of all that was female in her. Drinking on her kitchen at nights opened up all the sides of her: she'd laugh hysterically, remembering the night when you met, calling you the paragon of solidarity, and then she'd throw herself onto your shoulders, squeezing you with all her surprising might, and then break into tears, because she used to love that man. She'd get serious while telling you about all the abuse she'd suffered at his hands, then get hysterical again thinking about it, thinking what it meant for her to break free. Then Minji would look at you with her huge watery eyes, light shivering inside the pupils, and whisper,

"If it hadn't been for you, who knows how long more I'd stay with him".

She was going through her emotions in circles, slowly healing, for three weeks, and almost every night you came over to console her, and it was beautiful. Perhaps the freshness and loneliness of a new country weighed on the closeness you felt for Minji: for a whole year people around you were reserved, collected and formal. And this insane girl reciprocated all the hidden desire to connect in less than a month. She needed her hand held; and she needed a hug every other hour; and she needed an ear to listen. At times she'd repeat herself, and you'd just nod. It was an unusual position for you because you weren't the background dancer. In life, you were usually the one who came to your best friend for help and she'd be forced to listen. But here, you were the new Y/N. Life had slapped you on the face so hard that everything before burned. You inhaled, exhaled, and went with the flow, forming this tight, unexpected and very intimately understanding, very unlikely friendship with the girl from Itaewon.

Minji had a flat in the Gangnam district and wore nine hundred euro earrings. When you admired them, saying that the glow was throwing sunspots onto the table, she smiled in the sweetest way and said that she just-

"ADORE Pandora. I don't know what's with me, but I am obsessed with their jewelry. My brother gave these to me for my birthday. Do you wanna see the others?"

You weren't by any means poor. The offer for a job came straight from Sogang University and made it possible for you to rent a reluctantly cosy apartment in Seodaemun. Yet you didn't have an array of diamond earrings in silk-bound little boxes in the drawer of your desk. You had a glimpse into Minji's wealthy life by looking at her jewelry. Not all of it was to your taste, but Minji was unapologetically in love with all of them and even tried to see if some would match your face. She was sincere, simple, emotional, and she completely won you over. The natural lack of curiousity and caution stopped you from asking who the hell her brother was, and what she did for a living, although you probably should have.

Finally came the time to open up to Minji, after you learned half of her life story during the long Gangnam nights.

You told her about the reason you came to Korea which was, except for the job offer you broke all your bones for, the death of your best friend. Minji could be very collected and quiet when she needed to; for about twenty minutes at a time. She had a big heart, really, and never made you feel small, and never pulled the blanket of attention on her when it wasn't her turn to pour her soul.

She probably realized why you two clicked so well and what even made you stand up for her in the first place; her tears of sorrow as she empathized with you were as rainbowy as her expensive earrings, as clear as her ceiling-high windows overlooking a busy intersection and the skyline; as melodic as the confident and telling purr of her Porsche Macan. You got yourself involved with some rich people, you were thinking, on the way to yet another coffee and gossip girldate, and you were highly suspicious of Minji's unwillingness to speak about her family.

"Oh, they are great, you know", she'd sing, "but you know, I am not a fool myself. I landed a great job at Samsung. I know, maybe my connections helped, but, ugh, and I might not look like it, but I am smart".

You'd never told her she didn't look smart. She looked expensive, and sweet, and high maintenance for any guy who'd take a burden of listening to her every day.

"What do you do there?" you finally asked her.

"I make ads. I'm in marketing", she replied shortly and you didn't mistake this for sheer shyness. Maybe she didn't want to make it awkward between you, maybe she found it plain boring. Minji liked talking about boyfriends and your job more. She'd ask about the kinds of projects you do at university and always make the landmark adorable face - Ö - when you told her funny stories about your students.

Friendship like this was probably unbelievable, but cinematographic cirucmstances collided you together, and the ultimate action you'd undertaken had to have certain consequences, right? Not even once did Minji act unpretty or smug; she didn't do drugs like you imagined rich young people did, who have a lot of pressure at work; her drug was gossip, and who sleeps with who, and what they wore, and what they posted on twitter seven years ago during a rain on a Monday. She had excellent memory for drama and no patience for self-belittlement.

"My brother always tells me that girls like you and me should live with our heads up high", she said. You snickered.

"How does your brother know I am like you? I am quiet and you're extraverted".

Minji shook her head furiously and pushed the chewing gum around her mouth with her little tongue. Her pearl-white teeth sucked in the air.

"No, I know who you are. You were the only person in the whole fucking Itaewon to care about little me getting smacked around. You're the person who listened to my bitching and moaning about a short dick of a douchebag for a whole month-"

"Three weeks", you corrected her. She waved the correction away like it was cigarette smoke.

"You are one fine ass woman with a steel core. After what you've been through; and still you choose to help fools like me", she gave you a strange, deepening look that was too momentous for her usual self.

You shrugged. She was right. That was the moment Kim Minji has decided your fate.

Minji called on a Sunday, a little distressed, and you felt scared that she got into a drama again. But she sounded reserved and somewhat business-like while having this sickening finality to her voice. So, maybe something even more serious. There we go, you thought while dressing up in front of the mirror you scooped up in a second hand store in Seochon (very beautiful, reminded you of old Seoul). There we go, her and her rich ass got into trouble with mafia and now she wants me to wield a half-empty soju bottle into the mafiosi faces. As you left the building, to the sound of the train rushing above your head matching your steps, you were creating wild scenarios in your head where the whole time Kin Minji was evil after all and she is going to sell you instead of herself to the black organ trafficking market; or she'll sell you into sex slavery to the people she owes money to; or to one of the K-pop idols; what if she is involved in a Burning Sun type of scheme? Sometimes you had to pull your mind by the reins and shut it up. The apocalyptic tales it spun in the moment of hesitation scared you to no end. You looked at the late summer Seoul sky while waiting for the taxi. Something /still/ was so important that Minji didn't want to speak about it over the phone.

You were biting your lips as you pushed the door of a coffeeshop and spotted her at the table, furiously writing something on a piece of paper, a phone pressed to her ear. She nodded at you; no need to say in what manner. She did everything furiously whereas you did things spontaneously. You were written in different fonts.

"Heeey", she stretched her back, clutching her little fists. You looked at your own nails, freshly done, to avoid going first. But Minji didn't seem too pressed about it.

"So", her eyes were searching your face, "have you seen the MAMA yesterday?"

You frowned,

"What is that?"

She shrugged like it didn't matter.

"The music awards ceremony".

"Oh. Did anybody fall off stage? Did that hilarious guy perform? The one who always gives joke performances?"

Her face twisted in a giggle,

"Oh, no, but there were some funny moments. Not enough drama, though. No secret touches, you know. I scanned the twitter like a hound for fancams, and nothing. BTS swept all the awards, as usual".

You nodded. You've seen the celebrity faces occasionally on the streets; the buses usually had their cutesy images slapped on the sides, and that's how you knew that a certain SUGA had his birthday in March, and that you all loved Lisa. Sometimes Minji mentioned something about the turbulent and never-ever scandal-dry world of K-pop, but you listened to different music and just got used to hearing their upbeat melodies on the background wherever you went. In fact, if you strained your memory, you could recall a couple of explosive controversies in the year and a half you've been living here. But they all looked the same to you; glitter and shiny clothes, dancing in synch, melodic voices, songs about... jeans? You were sure you were on the right track.

You sucked on the straw of your drink, thinking about it, then caught Minji staring at you with a smile.

"Anyway", she said, "don't get mad with me, okay? Promise".

Your frown returned and you felt the hairs of your eyebrows stand a little.

"What did you do?"

She put one arm on the table and started working her fist, nervous.

"My family is not the most ordinary, and we are usually cautious about new people, we have to be. It's not easy for me to warm up to someone like I did to you. I just", she puffed, "like you so much that I really wanted to give it some time to see how... you were?"

She winced with the last words.

"So far I have no goddamn clue what you're talking about", you replied, the bubbles in your drink flowing up. "Unless you're telling me your family is famous".

She sighed with relief.

"Yes".

"Don't tell me you're related to the North Korean leader or I'll flip the table", you said from under your lowered lids. This was horrifying and equally exciting. All you wanted was to start anew, and a good friend.

"No", she laughed.

"Kim Nam Gil?" you asked with hope. The only actor whose name you knew because he was your official crush of the year.

For some reason Minji blushed a little.

"No, but my brother, the one who..."

"The one who gives you diamond earrings because you're his little sister", you said, internally tender about it.

"Yes, he's an idol".

This didn't make much of an impression as you could name about two of three of them. You were a little embarrassed about not knowing more, but again, your world was so different from Minji's; and a year and a half is not nearly enough to completely assimilate into a country when you work every day except Sunday, from morning until six. Not much time for pop culture left.

"I only know Jungkook", you said with resolution. Minji giggled.

"Well, close. Anyway, I'm saying this to you so that there's no unspoken secrets between us".

You shrugged and smiled.

"Thank you. Um. It's cool. I think you get to see shows for free? I'm not mad about it. I hope your idol brother buried your ex's body somewhere in the sea?"

This provoked a short laugh.

"God, I barely ever spoke to him about Taejeong, because he'd lose his freaking little mind. Nam is way too protective of me, I don't know where it's coming from, but he was usually livid when I told him we fought".

She pushed her empty coffee cup around the table.

"I did tell him about you saving me, by the way. I had to explain why and how we broke up".

You got hung up on the livid part. Holding your chin with your fist, you said, dreamily,

"Wow, you're the forever baby sister. That is so marvelous. I always wanted a male twin when I was little".

Minji tried to comfort you, as always,

"It's not all that great. He was an ass to me when we were growing up".

"Still", you looked at her and saw that she wasn't finished. She bit her lower lip seeing your raised eyebrows:

"I also had to warn you about it because I wanted to beg you to come with me to his birthday party".

Before you could answer, she went on, using her weapon: throwing her head into her hands like she was a dying servant from a sixteenth century royal household.

"Oh, Y/N, it's such a boy club every time. They never take their sisters with them, and I am alone, or like if someone is dating at the moment, he brings along this girlfriend, and what's the point of partying with her, if she's going to be gone in a week, you know? I just know they will drink all the whiskey on the boat and start doing the maknae throw again..."

Her eyes were begging you.

"What's a maknae throw?" you whispered, horrified.

"You'll see... if you come with me", she promised. Minji was so good at this subtle manipulation. She left just enough of the information hanging so that you'd get interested. Your nostrils flared. You weren't of their kind. Frankly speaking, you didn't think much of the celebrities in flesh: you believed them to be jaded, dangerous and boring. You had no ultra expensive clothes to matched their lush lifestyle. You didn't know how idols celebrated birthdays and what presents they were used to receiving.

Looking at Minji, you probably looked more and more scared, so she reached across the table and grabbed your hand with her warm, moisturized palm:

"They are good boys. But they are that... boys, you know? I need a gal to save me again... please come to Nam's birthday with me... you'll have fun, I promise".

You pouted.

"We're not even dating and I can't resist your whining, Minji. How are you even real".

She threw her hands in the air.

"What does your brother like? Except you", you asked, tired already of the upcoming thought battle you'd have to engage into. Not even a small part of you wanted to see idols. Might seem insane, but life was just beginning to look stable again: you started sleeping half a night, every other night. You had someone to talk to, like a normal person, about your normal human life. A small part of you was hoping that, since Minji was so down to earth and kind, maybe her brother was, too. Maybe - just maybe, idols are also humans and not sillicon, flesh eating, brain consuming monsters?

"He is artsy. Likes... fine things. Collects vintage prints and figurines".

"What a delicate flower", you approved, "there's this antique store I found in Seochon where I think I saw cool looking old Japanse vases".

Minji nodded confidently:

"Grab them. Grab all of them".

Minji said it's a boat birthday. You settled with your favorite high-waist jeans, a comfortable top and a jean jacket in case it gets cold. September was still a summer in full swing, even if with a moan. The skies were getting more and more orange every day. The dude was a Virgo which meant nothing to Minji since the Koreans didn't care about the Western zodiac.

"He's a dog", she said with the feeling and held the taxi door for you as you managed out of the car. You nearly forgot your jean jacket inside, balancing the three vases wrapped in colorful paper in your arms.

"What does it mean to you?" you inquired. Minji hummed something. The embankment was empty save for a couple of slick unoccupied cars and a mid-sized boat of brown wood, glistening in the late afternoon sun, her bow proudly poking in the direction of the western side of the harbour. This baby could easily contain around thirty people, you thought, and your stomach dropped. You regretted not having cuffed yourself to Minji because you were so uncomfortable thinking about such gatherings. The parties. You were too much of a yes person. You really didn't want to go, but Minji said 'boys club' and made these pity eyes, and you couldn't in good conscience leave her alone. She must have other, more glamorous girl friends, no? you thought, looking at her from the side while she folded your jean jacket in her hands. Maybe not. She did say she has to be cautious of people.

"So", she said, inviting you onto the dock.

"So?" you repeated, a bit feverishly. The boat was getting closer and closer. You could already hear the muffled music coming from the inside.

"You never asked me which band", she said, too excited, in your humble opinion.

"Wait, you're not gonna pimp me to them, are you?" you demanded, and Minji burst into snickering.

"Oh, you really hate all the idols, don't you?"

"I don't hate- I don't know them. Dude, I only heard about the Burning Sun stuff!"

Minji sighed, somewhat tragically, and at that instance, a guy emerged from the boat and ran down the gangway.

"Minji-ya!" he screamed. Didn't yell or call her out, he outright screamed when he saw her. This tall guy, heavy blinking watch on his wrist, in a light, Hawaiian-style shirt on top of a beige tee, ran towards you with his arms outstretched and grabbed the whole of Minji so that for a second she completely drowned in the hug.

"Namjoon", she uttered, fighting him off in small, goofy motions. You tried to hide your huge clunk of a package behind your back, with no visible success. A second Nam spent looking at his sister and mingling with her hair, and then turned to you and said, with strong American accent:

"Y/N, thank you so much for coming".

You couldn't really contain the good mood you got into upon seeing this family reunion. Maybe it's not that bad, you thought. The guy kept respectful distance and didn't say anything else, waiting for your move. You just stood there, smiling.

"Happy birthday, Nam..."

"Joon", he bowed slightly, like a very luxurious, dreamy waiter. You bowed in return out of habit.

"Joon?" the smile was growing stupid.

"Namjoon".

"Oh".

Someone's head poked out of the boat entrance and immediately disappeared. Namjoon laughed the way people laugh, when they give their sisters nine hundred euro earrings for holidays.

"She's a little gobsmacked, because she thinks you'll eat her for dinner..." Minji explained.

"Minji, you and your fucking mouth", he suddenly said, and dimples appeared on his cheeks. You sighed internally.

"She doesn't even know who you are", she continued, giving you a partner-in-crime cheesy look.

"You don't know BTS?" Namjoon gasped, with an air of playful mockery.

"I know Jungkook", you reported faintly.

The Kim siblings laughed in unison in their wealthy ha-ha-has.

[enhanextdoor]

𓂃۶ৎ 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓 ━━━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍.

西村 力 (n.rk). ─────⠀ㅤ 3,002 (in total) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𓈒 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. ⠀

부인 성명 (disclaimer) : read at your own risk. there is going to be fluff and angst themes. NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @choisanswife. @leehsngs. @myjjongie

moving away from home was one of the hardest things for you to do. it was what you had known your entire life, but college was an exciting new time. you thought it would be a fresh start, you would be able to make new friends and not be held back by some of the rumors and different issues that living in a small town held. you wanted to experience the world and maybe you were a little naive, but you thought the world would be good for you. welcome weekend was what really fucked you over. everyone was asked to go around and share a fact about themselves on the auditorium stage and as you were walking up your shirt caught on the stairway and ripped. you were so embarrassed you cried, people recorded and this quickly spread around campus. you were labeled the “cry baby” of campus. so much for getting a fresh start right? nope! 

it had been three weeks since the semester started and honestly you tried to avoid the stares and laughs, you figured that the other students would eventually move on from your little mishap but in the age of smartphones no way. you even became a bit of a campus meme, the worst group of them all had to be the dance team. the first person to post the video to social media? none other than jake. he didn’t think it would get as big as it did and well it even got him a little more credibility on campus. you just wanted to keep your head down and the library was one of the best places to do that, you had been practically living in your dorm and in the library. you were enjoying the silence. enter nishimura riki, the it-boy of the freshman clas, he casually made his way over to you and pulled a book from the shelf next to where you were standing. 

he was the newest member of the dance crew and all everyone had been talking about. ‘jungwon made such a good choice as captain letting him on the team.’ ‘we are so qualifying this year’ ‘he’s just so dreamy’ those are just some of the things you’ve heard. your gaze shifted to him only for a second before you grabbed the book you needed and started to head back towards the table you had claimed. “y/n.. that’s your name right?” ni-ki spoke up. you stopped to look at him and arched an eyebrow slightly, nodding your head. “yeah, that would be me.” you prepared yourself to get the cry baby comment or some kind of joke, but he walked over and examined your book. “oh this is actually the one i need too. think we could sit together and look it over?” he set the book in his hand on empty carts at the side of the column.

you were a bit shocked that he would be wanting to do an optional reading for class, the professor made sure to emphasize that this reading wasn’t required but could help students get a better grasp on the concepts. “sure?” you sounded a little hesitant because you were. maybe ni-ki wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully needed the book for class just like you. the pair of you walked over to the table and you opened it up to the page that you needed. “you need this for intro to society too right?” you questioned to see if he was taking the same basic sociology class you were. “yup and look at that you’ve got the page right and everything.” he flashed a smile. 

the pair of you read the book only speaking to indicate when it was okay to turn the page. it was nice, having an interaction with someone that wasn’t just trying to make fun of you. after two hours of powering through the book you both reached the end and you closed the book. “well that was nice.” he stated as he leaned back in his chair a little. “yeah, it was nice.” you admitted before tapping your fingers on the table a little bit of anxiety building in your stomach. “you know you are pretty cool y/n. we should go out sometime.” 

his words sent a little bit of panic through you mainly because you knew that talking with him could impact his social status on campus or bring on more taunting. then you were fighting with the implication, is he asking you in a friendly way or in a date kind of way? you sat there for a second. “did i break you y/n? shit that was so not what i was trying to do.” he was sat forward now examining your face. “no, no, i heard you and am not broken.” you replied and glanced back to him. “just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to go out.” you stood up to go return the book from where you found it. he stood and followed you right over to the shelf. “oh come on y/n, afraid that people will tease me too? i really don’t care about any of that. you are cool and we shared a book doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he was talking in a bit more of a teasing tone at the end. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully because that was cheesy. “okay then we can go out.” you shouldn’t cave so easily but honestly you are just a girl. “great it’s a date then.” he winked.

you two had exchanged numbers before you left the library and set a plan of when you were going out. everything about this made you nervous but excited. was this really happening? the coolest guy in the freshman class wanted to take you out on a date? it seemed too good to be true. you spent hours getting ready for this date and the pair of you went out. the date was a simple move theater then dinner date. you two had a great time, the conversation at dinner flowed so naturally. he had you laughing, you made him laugh in return. it was nice being out with someone that didn’t just see you as a joke. he walked you back to your dorm and before he left you two kissed. you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the whole nine yards. 

two months passed and several more dates occurred within those months. you never saw this coming, but there you were on the quad with ni-ki laid out under you and your head rested on his stomach as you laid down as well reading your book. the two of you were all the campus could talk about. “we are throwing this party tonight to celebrate winning our latest comp.” he said which pulled you from your book, “oh yeah? well i would love to come with you if that is what you are asking.” you looked up to him with a warm smile. a smile that ni-ki had grown so accustomed to. he had fallen for you and if only you knew everything he knew that you probably wouldn’t feel the same anymore. he sat up which had you sitting up as well and he admired you with a smile of his own, “you make me so happy y/n. you know that right?” you weren’t sure where this was coming from but you leaned in to give his lips a little peck. “yeah, yeah nishimura. i have a class to get to.” you stood and then leaned down to give him another peck on the lips. “see you later?” you asked but didn’t wait for an answer before walking backwards to start heading away from you. “yeah.” he waved you off and went back to laying down to look at the sky. 

he wasn’t sure how he was going to tell you the truth, all of this started with a bet. he was hanging out with all the guys and jake showed everyone the video. they all laughed about it, ni-ki included. “you want to prove yourself to be one of us?” jay said while leaning his arms on his knees and the rest of the guys started to pick up what was about to go down. “get cry baby to go out with you.” he continued and everyone else was laughing. “oh my god that would be so funny actually. you should so do it.” sunghoon chimed in. ni-ki wanting to be accepted by these older much cooler guys agreed. “i could totally get her to go out with me, easy. i’ll do you one better i’ll get her to actually fall in love with me too.” god how he regretted that day now, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. it was only a matter of time before someone slipped and told you and he didn’t want to lose you. while he was trying to get you to fall in love with him he did something that would ruin everything, he fell for you. 

later that night after all your classes and getting ready for what felt like forever you headed to the frat where the party was being hosted. you went inside and started looking around for ni-ki but instead found jay and jake by the drinks table. jake was a little loaded and that made him a little louder than normal. “Y/N! YOU’RE HERE!” he was basically shouting and leaning on jay for the support. “hey jake.. you doing okay there buddy?” you gave a pointed look and jay made a little face while shaking his head to indicate that this boy was long gone. you had gotten to know the rest of the guys and much to their surprise they liked you. the guilt of the bet weighed on all of them too, but they tried to ignore the elephant in the room. heeseung came walking over to see the drunk jake and jay supporting him. “need some help with that one?” he pointed to jake literally just hanging off jay. “you know it we should get him some water.” jay replied and you spoke up. “let me go get him some. you two just make sure he stays upright.” 

you pushed through to the kitchen and came back with bottled water. they had gotten jake seated on a couch. “oh have you guys seen ni-ki?” you questioned. they all shook their heads and jake decided to speak up. “naurr but i am so glad you two are dating. i mean to think this all started because jay thought you were some looooser and bet ni-ki that he couldn’t get you to date him. oh! and im sorry for posting that video of you.” he was pouting and batting his eyes. “don’t hate me.” jay and heeseung’s faces both looked so shocked and heeseung literally put his hand over jake’s mouth. your mouth fell open a little as you tried to process everything that was just said. ‘some loser’ ‘a bet’ those words burned and you felt like your heart was shattering right there. “i should go.” you forced a little smile and handed the water over to jay, backing away from them. “y/n wait..” jay spoke up but you had already turned and started to rush towards the exit. 

you thought that things were different with ni-ki, that he was one of the only people that actually gave you a chance. he made you feel safe and loved, he was someone you could just talk to for hours. was all of this just some silly little game to him? was your heart just something he could toy with? as you were walking out of the party, ni-ki was on his way in. his eyes caught a glimpse of you and he went to take your hand, “y/n where are you going?” you stayed right there your back to him, hand in his and using every ounce of strength you had to keep your tears in. “was it worth it?” your voice sounded so broken and he was confused until his phone buzzed, he glazed over the text from heeseung explaining what just happened. he shoved his phone right back into his pocket and he moved to stand in front of you, his hand still holding yours.  “y/n, baby, i can explain.” 

him moving to be in front of you wasn’t helping because now glancing up at him the tears just started to cascade down your cheeks. “explain? explain what? that you made a bet that you could date me? guess what riki, you fucking did that didn’t you? i bet you are so proud of yourself. god just leave me alone. i never want to see you again.” you shoved his hand away from yours and walked off leaving behind the boy you fell in love with and any shred of hope that people were still good. 

it had been three days since the party and your phone had been blowing up with messages from all of the guys. ni-ki had messaged the first day just a few times asking if the two of you could talk, but when you ignored him for the fifth time he got the hint. he was a mess too and you knew it only because the rest of the guys were messaging you over and over saying that this was their fault not ni-ki’s. that wasn’t helping any considering he could have said no. you had skipped your classes the last two days which is not like you in the slightest, but professors had to understand you just had your heart ripped out so that’s basically a medical emergency right? maybe this would have been easier if you had made some actual friends on campus, but the friends you made were the boys and obviously didn’t trust any of them right now either. 

you did the one thing you could think to do, packed up a bag and took the first flight home. you needed to get away from campus and have a slight reset. home was going to give that to you, there was no ni-ki there, none of the guys to come knock on your door, just you and your family. after the third day home you were starting to feel a little better. the feelings of betrayal were still very much there and you played a card game and when you won your instinct was to text ni-ki to let him know, but you couldn’t exactly do that. a big part of you missed what you had with him. you just had to remind yourself that it was probably all just fake. 

there was a knock on the door and your mom went to get it, you were on the couch reading to get caught up on some of your classwork. “y/n, honey it’s for you.” your mom called out which confused you because you weren’t expecting anyone. you got up and made your way over to the door pausing when you saw none other than ni-ki standing there. your mom had walked away when you made it to the door and you stared at him, “what are you doing here? how did you even find my house?” you questioned in a hushed tone. “well i remember you talking about it when we went on our first date. you said that you lived in the old house with the handprints in the sidewalk and named the street so.. i just walked down the street until i found the handprints.” you stepped outside and closed the door behind yourself, crossing your arms over your stomach. he remembered that? most people wouldn’t care to remember a detail like that. you needed to push that delusion from your head, he doesn’t care. or does he?

“i tried to give you your space, i really did and honestly sunoo told me flying here was a terrible idea, but it’s been almost a week and i am losing my mind y/n. none of it was fake.. nothing i said or did with you was fake. i know it started with not the best intentions and honestly i should have told you the minute i fell for you, but i didn’t want to lose you because i’m an idiot that took a bet.” he was rambling just a little and you were focused on the fact that he said he fell for you and it was real. everything he said and did with you was real. “you mean it?” you spoke finally which cut him off from going to say something else. “of course i mean it. i am so in love with you y/n that i literally hopped on a flight to go to some town i’ve never been to to walk up and down a street in hopes of finding the girl of my dreams.” 

you were hesitating on forgiving him because you weren’t completely sure if he was telling the truth, but your heart was screaming to forgive him because to be honest you are in love with him too. every little moment you two shared, every kiss, all the late night talks, the times you shared books, it was all just so comforting. “if you ever break my heart again nishimura riki i swear i won’t let you back in.” you moved in a little and he did as well. “i swear on everything in this world i won’t break your heart again.” the two of you shared a soft and sweet kiss on the door step. his hands on your waist, yours finding the comfortable spot around his shoulders. when your lips parted he smiled at you and you felt that happiness creeping back in. “so uh.. when am i going to meet my future in-laws?” he smirked as you gave him a teasing glace. 

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed this fic. i would love if you commented thought/opinions, liked, or reblogged!

c. enhanextdoor ; do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[beebazooka]

just happened to land on you, who else?

----- pt. 1/2

daisuke x gn reader fic 𓆩⟡𓆪 word count; 1.1k

content warning: later smut, non-established relationship, awkwardness, NEEDY 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴suke, angst(post crash doomed-ness)

You were Anya's intern— you didn't know what career to pick so you followed whatever your parents thought was best. The money balanced out the negatives; long and unpredictable hours, patient interactions, and differing opinions from coworkers on how to deal with someone. All you needed to get that was a good recommendation and your parents would deal with medical school's expenses.

So you signed up for every advertisement that didn't look scam-y. Until no one would call back, it made sense. You had nothing on your record but a summer job you had at sixteen and a high school diploma. Not exactly the top candidate.

Your last hope was a faded-out pamphlet stapled to an electric post. Reluctantly, you ripped off one of the phone number handouts printed between the dotted punctured lines. That flyer was no doubt, the sketchiest thing you had ever seen in your life. That cartoon horse mascot smiling at you didn't ease any worries despite how much the company probably wanted it to.

<⟡>

Now you were boarding the Tulpar, you could see your new coworkers through the small crowd of higher-ups and last-minute maintenance workers; a bunch of sad sack adults, and a guy like you. Small carry-on bags either held or settled by their feet.

He was friendly, really friendly. He ran over to you immediately, imaginary tail wagging at the mere sight of someone in his age group.

"Daisuke Juárez." He blurted out, extending a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, what?" His eyebrows furrowed as he dropped his hand, looking away. You could see his lips mutter a swear but no sound came out.

"That's my name, sorry for no intro before that..." He gave a nervous chuckle before he offered his hand to you again. You took it, why wouldn't you? It would just make this already weird conversation worse.

A quick shake between new coworkers. Nervous sweat passed back and forth, a cold feeling and a 'clink' sound from his rings bumping against yours. This guy would probably be your only choice for socializing. He had a lot of enthusiasm to pass around and frankly, everyone needed it.

<⟡>

A couple of months on board and by some miracle, he wasn't your thirteenth reason yet. Your boredom wouldn't let you hate him. You looked forward to his shenanigans. To Swansea's dismay, you started participating.

Sneaking sugar packets here, teaming up to cheat on crew game nights there.

Then it happened. That fake scenic sunset display quickly changed to a message so contrasting; Crash eminent. You had no clue what to do other than prepare. The blaring alarms didn't stop even when you ducked down behind the kitchen counters.

<⟡>

Everything was ruined, tousled, destroyed. Emergency foam went off everywhere, closing off the sleeping quarters, and a couple of hallways.

Every day, every new experience drained you. You had to hold back Anya's hair four times as she vomited in between patching up Captain— no, just Curly now.

One day, Swansea gathered up everyone, well tried. He only got the interns to sit down in the living quarters, pacing back and forth while he gave a doomed pep talk to the only people who would listen.

"We're fucked. This goddamn company doesn't care about us or that one of their ships went offline. We're dead meat, just names on a fucking list." He kept pacing. He had that little rasp in his voice, probably from the fact he kept pausing his spiel to take swigs of mouthwash. Daisuke told you all about Swansea's drunken rants whenever the two of you got bored enough. He said he liked the burn. The knowledge that he was ruining his life all over again. He loved it.

"You kids do whatever the fuck you want, 'cause I'm not doing shit. I'm not going to spend the last weeks of my life slaving away at the same company that already took forty years of my damn happiness." Then he walked off, too drunk to stomp away. Going to stand in front of the utility room. The only task he wanted to commit to; stopping others from doing something stupid; he always did. Daisuke could be his whole defense for that argument.

"So that's our advice... We do whatever because we're dying soon anyway." You mumbled after some struggle. Someone both you and Daisuke were supposed to look up to and ask for guidance just told you to fuck around while you still can.

"That's it? Our first fucking trip and we die here?!" You stood up, your anger wanted to move and right now, you didn't want to deny it.

Daisuke let out a quiet sigh, leaning back until his body hit the cold floor, he ran his fingers through his hair, in an attempt to ease something... anything. "I haven't lived yet. I partied. I jacked around. I don't have anything to actually be proud of. I haven't done anything."

That made you stop. He was right. He hasn't lived and neither have you. You were getting mad at people millions of miles away on Earth, that for sure didn't know your name or face.

"Bucket list." You whispered in that same tone you used to pass jokes to him during lectures with Swansea... a long time ago. He would give anything for this shitshow to be a dream that he could wake up to and have you joke about Swansea's under-eyes over and over again. "We make a bucket list. We do everything before we die when the food and oxygen supply run out.

<⟡>

They wrote down a small list each. It was cute at first, pranking the unbothered Swansea wasn't as fun as before but it was something. They shared a couple sugar packets, helped Anya out for a bit, and destroyed the kitchen by mismatching recipes.

Then their lists went cold and desperate; in tiny, rushed pen-written letters were four words. "Don't die a virgin."

After reading it from the other's list, they looked up at each other. "This is humiliating, you know," Daisuke spoke up first, despite his words he had a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah... I know." You replied back. This was a horrible way to lose something people said was so sacred, but now, you saw it how it was; just another experience to have before you died.

[idkanymark]

[ Simon says ]

mark x f!reader | best friend's sister au | university au

INTRO: You grew up with Mark, your older brother’s best friend—always there, always by your side, but never really seeing you. Not like that. For years, you watched him from the sidelines, hidden behind your feelings. But something shifted when you both ended up at the same university. You’d grown up, and so had he. Suddenly, he was no longer the untouchable figure in your life. He noticed you in a way that made your heart race, and so, a game began.

warnings. Slightly suggestive

Lowkey inspired by: Simon says by YC Banks

----

You don’t remember a day when Mark wasn’t part of your world. Your older brother’s best friend was practically a permanent fixture in your life—he was there at every family barbecue, every holiday, and every lazy Saturday when Haechan and Mark would commandeer the living room for video game marathons.

For as long as you could remember, he’d been part of the scenery, someone you thought you’d never look at differently. But somewhere along the way, your feelings shifted—quietly, but all at once.

You realized it that Christmas when you were barely a teenager. You weren’t old enough to fully understand the flutter in your chest when Mark smiled at you, but you knew it was different. That day, he’d spent hours in the snow with your family, helping your dad untangle lights and laughing as your brother pelted him with snowballs. You’d stayed inside by the window, watching from a distance.

And then there was that moment—he walked in, brushing snow from his dark hair, cheeks flushed from the cold, and he caught your gaze.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a grin.

You shook your head, feeling your face heat up. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything.

You didn’t know how to handle it at first. You were young, awkward, and caught somewhere between growing up and staying the same. Mark was older, confident, and so completely out of reach.

In your mind, he was untouchable. He was your brother’s best friend, practically family, and there was no way he’d ever see you as more than the kid sister who trailed after them when she wasn’t supposed to. So, you tucked your feelings away, like folded letters you’d never send.

----

In your defenses you did try to get over him but Mark had always been there—a steady presence in your life. He was there when you had your first heartbreak, offering a kind smile and a joking, “Want me to beat him up?” He was there when you aced your finals, cheering louder than even your own brother. And he was there in the quiet moments too—helping you carry groceries inside, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you forgot yours, and teasing you with a warmth that always felt more affectionate than annoying.

But as much as he was there, he never really saw you. Not in the way you wanted him to.

The years passed, and somewhere along the way, everything shifted. You got into the same university as him and Haechan, and suddenly, Mark wasn’t just a constant in the background—he was everywhere. Classes, dorm hangouts, campus events. The spaces you used to watch him from felt smaller, closer.

And you weren’t the same person anymore. You had grown up. Gone were the awkward teenage years, replaced with a quiet confidence you’d never had before. People noticed, and for the first time, the attention was on you.

“You’re, like, a campus crush now” Jisung —your best friend, teased one afternoon, sprawled out on your bed with his phone in hand.

“Stop” you groaned, throwing a pillow at him.

He dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “I’m serious! You’ve got guys from the music department asking me if you’re single. It’s wild.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you liked the attention—especially when Mark was around to see it.

At first, it seemed like nothing more than coincidence. Mark and Haechan would “accidentally” show up wherever you were. A guy from your economics class walked you to the library once, only for Mark to appear out of nowhere, his tone casually cutting but firm as he said, “We’re late for dinner.”

You frowned after the guy left. “Seriously, Mark?”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You and Haechan are acting like bodyguards. It’s ridiculous.”

He gave you a look—one that made your stomach twist. “We’re just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need looking after” you said, folding your arms. “I’m not a kid anymore”

His jaw tightened slightly. For a moment, he just stared at you, and you thought you saw something flicker in his expression—something that made your heart race. But he just sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I know.”

----

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed between you. He wasn’t just watching anymore; he was noticing.

But you didn’t want to wait for Mark to figure out how he felt. So, you did something bold. You started leaving him notes—anonymous and playful.

The first one was simple. A small folded square slipped into his backpack while he wasn’t looking.

“Simon says, don’t forget to smile today.”

You watched from across the library as he unfolded it, his lips twitching upward in a small, private smile.

The second note came a week later, tucked under his coffee cup while he went to the bathroom.

“Simon says, meet me at the library at 6. Third floor, back corner.”

You stayed hidden behind the shelves, watching as he sat in the designated spot, confused when no one showed up. That night, you left another note in his bag.

“Good things come to those who wait.”

The notes became a game—a way to say what you couldn’t say out loud. One day, you taped one to the inside of his locker at the gym:

“Simon says, stop looking at your phone during workouts. Eyes forward, baby.”

Later, after he found it, he looked around, as if searching for someone. You could see the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the way his curiosity was growing but also his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to know who was behind the notes, but you weren’t ready to reveal yourself. Not yet.

But deep down, you were dying to know what he thought. What he felt. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was starting to piece it together, or if the notes were just making things more confusing for him.

One evening, after you’d rejected yet another guy and Mark had stepped in to "rescue" you as usual, the two of you went out for ice cream. It was a casual hangout, the kind you’d had a million times before—joking, laughing, sharing silly stories. But tonight, something felt different. Mark was quieter than usual, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with an odd tension.

“Everything okay?” you asked, breaking the silence as you took a bite of your ice cream. You couldn’t help but notice the way he was staring into his cup, his expression unreadable.

Mark glanced up at you, his eyes almost too intense. “You know I’ve been getting notes, right?”

You froze, feeling your heartbeat quicken. “Notes? From who?” You feigned innocence, but inside, your mind was racing. He couldn’t have figured it out, could he?

He sighed, the frustration in his voice evident now. “I don’t know. But it’s driving me insane.” He shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “They’re just little things... ‘Simon says’ this, ‘Simon says’ that.”

You looked down at your ice cream, not trusting yourself to look him in the eye. “Maybe it’s just a joke. Someone messing with you.”

Mark shook his head, his eyes hardening a little. “It’s not a joke, Y/N. I feel like... it’s like someone’s trying to send me a message”

You swallowed, wondering how much more of this you could handle. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. You didn’t want him to know yet.

What you didn’t know was how badly he wanted you to be the one behind the notes. Even if it meant breaking the stupid rules of his and Haechan’s friendship, even if it meant risking everything—he would have done anything to have you notice him. He wanted to be the one who could finally see you in a way no one else could.

And as much as he tried to hide it, he was desperate.

But he kept it to himself. He had to. He wasn’t sure how to handle it yet. How to tell you that, maybe, he wanted more than just friendship.

You were lost in your thoughts, too, trying to suppress the guilt building up inside you. He was so close to the truth, but you weren’t ready to break your own walls down just yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mark let out a heavy breath. “I just... need to know who’s doing this. It’s messing with my head.”

But neither of you said anything more, both of you silently acknowledging that there were too many unspoken things between you now. The game had changed. And neither of you were ready to admit what that meant.

----

It was Mark who made the next and final move. You found his response waiting for you on the table he always sits in the library, scrawled on the back of one of your notes:

“Enough games. Meet me at Jeno’s party—upstairs, second door on the left.”

The night of the party, you stood in front of your mirror, smoothing down the black dress you’d picked out. It clung to you in all the right ways, paired perfectly with the soft curls falling over your shoulders. Beneath it all, a matching lingerie set hugged your skin—a quiet hope for what the night might hold.

The party was already packed when you arrived, the bass of the music thrumming through the walls. You weaved through the crowd, ignoring the lingering stares as you made your way upstairs.

When you reached the second door on the left, you hesitated for a moment before turning the handle.

Inside, Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed, his phone in hand. When he looked up and saw you, his expression shifted—confusion, realization, and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It was you" he said, standing slowly.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “It was me.”

“It all makes sense now" he murmured, his eyes sweeping over you. “The notes. The games. You’ve been driving me insane.”

“I know… I just wanted you to notice me as more than Haechan’s sister.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say. “You’re my brother’s best friend, Mark. You’ve always been untouchable.”

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Untouchable? Do you even know what it’s been like watching you these past few years? You’re all I see. I had to restrain myself not to get too close.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?”

He stepped closer, his voice softer now, but the intensity in his eyes was undeniable. “I watched you grow into someone incredible, and it’s been driving me crazy trying to keep my distance.”

You looked at him, barely able to breathe. The game had always been fun, but now everything felt real—too real.

“Simon says, stop wasting time" you said softly, your voice laced with desire as you stepped closer.

And that was all it took.

Mark closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. The taste of him, the heat, the urgency—it was like a storm had broken free between the two of you.

As you pulled back, his breath was heavy, his hands gripping your waist. His voice was low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. “Simon says, get on the bed.”

Your breath caught as you obeyed, feeling the electrifying thrill of the game intensify. Mark stood over you, his eyes dark with desire. He leaned down, his hands braced on either side of you.

“Simon says, keep your eyes on me.”

You obeyed without hesitation, your gaze locked with his. The world outside the room felt distant now, the only thing that mattered was the electric charge between you two. His lips curled into a smirk, knowing full well what kind of power he had in this moment.

“Simon says, don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

The room was charged with tension as you stayed perfectly still, your breath shallow, your heart racing. Mark’s presence consumed you, and you could tell he was savoring every second of this moment. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was a way for him to take control and show you what he’d been holding back all this time.

With every command, you felt your body respond instinctively. He was unraveling you in the best way possible, pushing you to the edge with each whispered order.

Then, Mark leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered in a voice that was as much a promise as it was an order, “Simon says... you’re mine tonight.”

And with those words, the game was no longer about control—it was about surrender.

That night, the game you’d started with those notes found its climax. But this time, Mark was the one giving instructions—and you were more than happy to follow.

[oatmealwrites]

Catch Kira, Not Feelings! Ch.2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L x Fem!Reader

Part 1 | Part 3

Ch.2 is finally done hehehe

this fr a slow burn so the plot takes the longest for me to write. SFW (for now, some NSFW in later chapters hehe)

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew fieldwork wasn’t always chasing bad guys and psychoanalyzing strangers to look for clues, but this was excruciatingly boring. Even more so than you initially thought.

With Light as an undergraduate and you as a master’s student, you shared the criminology building but not the same floors or classes. While he attended large intro-level lecture halls about the basics of criminology, you sat in specialized classrooms with only 15 other students max.

You gently tapped the desk at a steady rhythm and leaned your head into your right hand, watching your prof speak idly while marking up the chalkboard. You should be paying attention and taking notes, but you couldn’t help but watch the red cellphone Ryuzaki had given you sit motionless on the corner of your desk.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Peeling your eyes off the device you notice the rest of the class; staring out the window, doodling in their notebooks, and even a few drifting to sleep. You suck the inside of your cheek between your molars and gnaw gently; the professor continues with his back to the class.

Maybe I should text him? Say ‘there’s no use in a stakeout where I can’t even see the suspect’. But if he feels there’s no point in having me monitor Light, he’ll just have to come to campus and spend time following him instead. And then there would be no point in having this phone-

The realization sends an uneasy pang through your chest, you didn’t want to give up this connection only you had with Ryuzaki. While you were certain that other members of the task force had his phone number or other form of contact, him pulling you aside and personally asking you this favor felt different. Like a shared secret.

Your eyes drift back to the professor before returning to the phone. Taking your head out of your hand and sitting back in the chair casually, you gently lifted the device and lowered it beneath the wooden desk. Inconspicuously, you wake the phone from its sleep mode and open Ryuzaki’s contact.

Ryuzaki:

Please be careful tomorrow. Let me know if anything goes wrong.

        You:

         Will do! I’ll let you know how it goes

                Read ✓

You purse your lips and sigh gently, the ball in your court for continuing this conversation. Scratching the frame of the device absentmindedly while thinking how to respond, your stomach lightly growls in hunger.

Having slept past your regular alarm and only waking up for the ‘get up now or your gonna miss class’ ringtone, there wasn’t any time for breakfast. Waiting a moment, an idea passes through you. Placing Ryuzaki’s phone back on the desk, you reach over into your backpack and dig through it with one hand.

Feeling the cool screen of your actual cell phone, you hastily pull it into your lap and quickly scroll through your contacts. Finally reaching Light’s contact photo creates a stronger hesitation than you expected; L’s suspicion of him weighing heavily on your shoulders.

The same guy who you knew for several years, who went from being your boss’ son to something in between an acquaintance and friend creating a weird dynamic. Being accused of Kira on top of that left an emotion so sour and depressing that you almost felt guilty for watching him without his knowledge.

With a defeated exhale you open his contact and ensure the professor is still occupied with the board before typing out a message, deleting it, and then rewriting until it matches a casual vibe.

You:

Hey Light! I’m not sure if you’re on campus today, but want to grab lunch after class if you are?

I get out at 12

You did know he was on campus today, obviously, but you had to make it seem casual. Like two friends just hanging out. Definitely not one observing the another for a criminal case.

Satisfied with the message you turn to your notebook, now somewhat content with the minimal progress on the case and ready to try to pay attention to the lecture again. The moment you lift your pen a slight vibration hums across your desk.

You blink for a moment, unsure of which phone is making the noise and hastily grab both and slide them onto your thigh before anyone turns to see where the noise is coming from. After a second vibration, you realize it’s Ryuzaki’s phone humming with a notification.

Flipping it over in your lap, you open up the two new messages from L.

Ryuzaki:

How are things going at the school?

Should Watari still collect you later?

Flicking your eyes to the other students and then back at the phone, you hastily type out a response.

        You:

        Light and I don’t have any corresponding classes unfortunately. But I think we'll get lunch together.

After hitting send you can’t help but feel a small swell of pride in taking the initiative in extending an invitation to Light and proactively trying to get some more exposure. The phone vibrates again.

Ryuzaki:

I would advise against that. Unless you regularly get lunch with him, he will immediately be put on guard of your invitation, especially if Mr. Yagami has already informed him of your recent membership in the task force.

Shit.

Your shoulders slump forward slightly in disappointment for not thinking it all the way through. Of course if you suddenly get lunch with Light and then he realizes you're on the task force and he’s a suspect, he’ll never trust you on campus again.

Maybe I can cancel? Say I actually have to meet with my advisor regarding my thesis and I completely forgot about it.

Before you can even answer L, your actual phone vibrates against the denim of your jeans and your heart sinks. You don’t even have to turn it over to know it’s Light, the uneasy feeling like you made a mistake sitting uncomfortably in your gut.

Light:

Sounds good Y/N! Let’s meet at the cafe near the south exit of the school? I can send you the directions.

“Fuck” you mumble.

“I’m sorry did someone have a question?”

Your professor adjusts his glasses, the lenses nearly as thick as a roll of quarters, and gazes across the students. You squeak silently and slump into your seat, trying to look as concentrated as humanly possible at your empty notebook as if you were pondering any of the things he was droning on about for the past 45 minutes.

He blinks and then mumbles to himself before raising the chalk in his fingers to the board once again, “Anyways… As I was saying about Article 3a on the legislation from the 1980 law in regard to -”

*************

The autumn air is cool and refreshing compared to the suffocatingly dense atmosphere of the 5th floor of the criminology building. Leaves scatter the ground and you weave in between students passing, gently nodding to the beat of the music playing in your headphones.

Stopping just before the south exit gate, you step off the pathway and lean against the supporting back of a campus bench. Sliding the red cellphone out of your back pocket, your gaze hovers over where Ryuzaki had warned against meeting with Light. You never answered back in class, too conflicted as to whether to admit to L you made a mistake or tell Light nevermind and raise his suspicion of you regardless.

The wind gently pushes your hair, and you subconsciously cross your arms over your chest to retain some warmth, digging your nails into the fabric of the jacket. With the hand still holding the cellphone, you begin drafting a message to Ryuzaki.

You hunch forward a small amount, still leaning on the back of the bench and delete and then rewrite the message again.

“.. I’ll just meet you later this weekend.”

The conversation itself isn’t what makes you look up, but instead it’s the sound of the voice speaking. Leaning on the bench and facing away from the path blinds your field of vision, but you’re nearly certain it’s Light. Looking down at the unfinished message for a moment, you then shift your weight to the side and turn your torso to face the brick walkway.

It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to catch onto Light, his back turned to you and completely engrossed in a conversation with a woman. You raise an eyebrow and look back at your phone, resigning to send a simple ‘whoops…’ to Ryuzaki, and slipping it back into your pocket.

The two don’t notice when you push off the bench and casually slide your headphones off your ears and around your neck.

“When are you going to take me on that dinner date? You’ve rescheduled twice now, you know.”

You pause slightly. Since when has Light had a girlfriend? You keep walking forward towards the gate exit and make no move to be hidden. Light knows you go here, and if his dad told him about your task force membership, he’s going to be suspicious of anything you do. Assuming that he’s actually Kira.

The best thing is to act like you would always do; snooping around and eavesdropping would be too out of character. You have to go back to just being his friend, and if he asks, you’ll be his friend who is on his side and defense. It’s the only way to actually progress the case.

You continue towards them, ignoring now the steady wave of vibrations in your pocket; each one from the cell phone L gave you.

“I’m just saying it would be nice if you-” The woman catches eyes with you and stops mid sentence, not wanting to continue the conversation with a third party joining.

Light notices and instantly pivots, now noticing a casual smile painted on your lips and slight wave.

“Oh, Y/N! It’s nice that we bumped into each other here.”

“Hey Light! I know, right? I thought my professor was going to hold us hostage in that lecture based on the rate we were going.”

You laugh lightly and turn your attention to the woman next to him, subtly indicating you wanted an introduction.

Light follows the que as smooth as ever, “I definitely can relate to that,” he opens up space for the woman, “This is Takada by the way. We’re classmates.”

You smile at her and extend a hand, immediately analyzing her attire. She had a clean look with short black hair swept neatly to the right with bangs hovering just above a set of storm gray eyes. A tan jacket covers her shoulders and red turtleneck sweater while a sophisticated set of heels boost her height and sit just under the hem of her black slacks. Her posture is perfect and you take note of the softness of her hand in yours during the shake.

“Nice to meet you Takada. I’m Y/N”

“Y/N has been working for my father for a few years, so we’re pretty close.”

You watch Light casually drift further back from her and stand next to you. Ah, I see.

“Light, should we head out now? I only have 90 minutes before my next class starts.”

“Ah that’s right. Yes let’s go,” His voice changes slightly to a higher pitch, “Takada I’ll see you tomorrow?”

The woman glances at Light but focuses on you the entire time, her eyes calculating your relationship to him for a few moments before giving a curt ‘goodbye’ and walking back towards the main campus.

You and Light watch her walk off for a second before walking side by side out of the brick columns of the school’s gate. Act natural Y/N, it’s just Light. Not Kira..  just Light.

“So… Takada?” You give him a slight glance and he huffs while shaking his head and leading you down the main road.

“She’s very insistent on using my time with her. But she’s just a classmate.”

Natural Y/N.

You laugh slightly and wiggle an eyebrow, “Yea classmate hmm?”

Light laughs and gently elbows you in the side, “Oh come on, you know how busy I am.”

The smile doesn’t leave your lips as you both continue walking along the sidewalk, you on the inside and Light closer to the road. The feeling is nice, and for a moment you forget about the case entirely; just enjoying your company and the nice fall weather.

That moment ends abruptly, with now a constant vibration in your pocket indicating an incoming call and not just a text.

Shit. I completely forgot to text Ryuzaki back.

Light looks at you expectedly, “You going to answer that?”

You swallow nervously and look off to the side, “O-Oh, yea..”

Sucking in your bottom lip, you reach for the phone and turn the ID to the side so Light can’t see who’s calling. You give your companion a slight look of acknowledgement before lifting your phone to your ear.

“Hey what’s up! Are you on that date you talked about? Or did he never show?”

The voice is barely recognizable and you can’t even tell it's Ryuzaki until he’s halfway through his message. The emotion and cadence are something like you’ve never heard him speak before; though you’ve only known him a short time.

His message is really in regard to Light, and it’s not hard to tell, but to anyone else it would seem more like a nosey friend.

You grip your phone and catch a glance at Light, who’s gaze remains steadfast on you. Turning your body away you fake a nervous stutter and wave your hands as if the recipient could see them through the phone, “D-Date?! It’s just lunch… nothing that serious.”

Light catches your response and chuckles quietly to himself before you swat at him like you would a friend listening in on your conversation.

With the phone to your ear you can hear Ryuzaki shuffle a bit before continuing, almost as if he was relaying your response to someone else, “Ah I see. That’s good then, I didn’t think a date with that guy was a good idea anyways. Totally not your type.”

You try to ignore the chastise he gives for your lunch plans, and sigh into the receiver. You keep a distance from Light, though this one is more natural given the assumed topic of conversation on the phone.

“This is just a quick bite to eat, can I text you when I’m out of class?”

Light doesn’t mind the conversation, though you can tell his ear is listening to every word you're saying, but his posture is strange. The way his head tilts whenever you’re listening to Ryuzaki’s answers gives the impression he’s trying to discern who’s on the other line rather than decipher what you’re actually saying.

“Okkkk sounds good. Let’s get coffee when you’re out, so meet me at the north exit,” There’s a slight pause and his voice almost falters back to his natural tone, “ You can pick the cafe though, I trust your decision.”

The tone is upbeat and it’s enough to lift some weight of stress off your shoulders; you make a mental note that Watari will be picking you up from the North gate later. You can't help but lean into the phone and smile at his voice, “Yea of course… See you then.”

You stare at the phone an extra second before Light gives you a slight elbow in the side.

“And who was that?” He raises an eyebrow just like how you did before, “A classmate?”

You push him lightly to the side and he lets out a hearty laugh.

“You’re such an ass. And for your information, yes, it was a classmate.”

Light scoffs and rolls his eyes, now crossing the street and pointing to the restaurant sign just a bit a further. He tugs on his bag and looks down at you, “Alright, it must be an important classmate to get you blushing like that though.”

Your jaw goes slack and you raise your hands to your cheeks, unable to tell if it’s to feel the warmth or hide the color of them from Light. Or both. He laughs at your reaction and stops in front of a small cafe, opening the glass door for you to enter before him.

“Geez, I can’t tell if you’re a gentleman or just a dick.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his laugh and simple navigation to an open table is more than enough to solidify the second option.

This whole moment felt so weird and so… nice?. Making jokes with Light after class and getting food, Ryuzaki calling you to make sure you’re ok, thinking about the material for your next class; it felt so normal it almost hurt.

Light glances at you from over his menu and his grin falters when he notices you on the verge of spacing out.

“Is everything ok? Sorry if I overstepped a boundary there.”

You snap back up at him and shake your head gently, now scanning the lunch menu in your hands, “I’m fine, just busy. Got a lot to think about.”

Light nods slightly and gives a brief scan of your surroundings before peering down at his menu casually. His voice is just above a whisper, “I can imagine. My father told me you’re joining the task force.”

He knows. Ok that’s fine, you knew this might happen.

You let your eyes widen in a surprise and glance around the tables to make sure no one can overhear you before turning back to Light, “He told you?”

His eyes haven’t left yours, “Yea, he didn’t give a ton of details,” his face softens but his voice doesn’t change at all, “but I’m glad to have you on the team.”

You sink into your seat and pick at the laminated edges of the menu, your eyes now staring down at the ‘drink options’ section.

“To be honest, it’s one of the reasons I wanted to meet with you.”

Light’s eyes widen slightly; he knew that was the reason but it’s your quick honesty that seemed to be what threw him off. He exhales and places the menu on the table flat, his chin now resting in his left palm.

“I figured as much,” he has a slight smile, “Don’t get me wrong, but it has been like 3 weeks since we last hung out.”

Ok now I need him to think I’m confiding in him and being vulnerable, then maybe… even if it’s just a little… he’ll be able to trust me more.

You raise the menu higher as if you're embarrassed and look onto the floor at your shoes, slowly fidgeting your left foot side to side.

“Well, it’s just..” You suck in a deep breath, “you’re the only one I can talk to about this.”

Light’s face is indiscernible; he's focused and patient for you to continue.

“Aren’t you,” You latch eyes with him, “scared?”

Your confession seems to have genuinely thrown him off and it takes several moments for him to process it fully and respond.

“Scared?”

You nod slightly, “Yea, I mean we’re the youngest members and Aizawa told me someone on the team already died…aren't you nervous Kira might kill us too?”

Light doesn’t move, but his eyes shine with thought and registration, as if he’s searching his brain for a pre-recorded response.

You push again, “I’m sorry, I just don't know who else to talk to about this,” your gaze falls before shooting back up with a panic and your voice raises in awkwardness, “Please don't tell anyone though! I just joined and I don't want them to think I'm getting cold feet.”

Light seems to have caught up in the conversation and snaps out of his thought process, gently resting his hand on yours in support. The feeling of his touch is cold and forced, his fingers press into your wrist like he isn’t aware of the pressure he’s using; it’s nothing like the way L had taken your hand to give you the phone last night.

“I understand it can be scary but,” his eyes are nearly glowing as he speaks, “Kira only kills criminals and those who are brazen in their search for him, which was unfortunate for Ukita. However you and I are different, if we stay stealthy and gather evidence quietly, we’ll be fine. Ok… Y/N?”

It’s almost like the pressure around you both has changed; it’s tense and thick and extremely uncomfortable. The feeling of it nearly makes you crack the character you’re playing and you realize you need to end the conversation.

“Thanks, Light… that really makes me feel better. Sorry for bringing up work things while on our break,” you’re the first to break eye contact and look back down at the menu.

As if a switch is flipped he breaks his gaze on you and smiles before looking around for a waitress to place an order. It feels as if the stranger you were just talking to has switched back to the friend you recognized.

“What was the second reason though?”

You blink and look back at him.

“You said that was only one of the reasons you wanted to meet with me,” he leans in on the table, “what was the second?”

Despite the close proximity you don’t lean back at all and hold eye contact before smiling and shoving him lightly, “I just missed hanging out with you,” you sigh lightly, “even if you are an ass half the time.”

He laughs and you can’t help the grin on your lips, ignoring the way the waitress he flagged over raises an eyebrow at you both and the way your chest still felt heavy.

*************

The sun setting so early creates a wave of depression that envelops you as you watch the glow dip lower and lower despite it only being 4pm. Campus lights have already flickered on, and students huddle in groups, gripping their jackets, heading for the metro station down the road.

You zip your jacket and adjust the straps of your backpack to even the weight distribution on each shoulder, waiting for Watari to arrive. Students pass by the brick columns of the North Exit and you lean against the gate wall for support, watching the cars pass by. Light should still be in class, only scheduled to regroup with the task force an hour after you.

You take deep breaths of the cool evening air and move to take your actual cell phone from your pocket before a recognizable black sedan pulls up in front of you. No one leaves the driver’s seat and you hesitate to approach the car before the window cracks the smallest amount and Watari’s voice pours out, “Y/N, I’m here to escort you to headquarters now.”

You smile and push off the column, slinging a strap off one shoulder and opening the passenger door. You slide into the leather seat and use the momentum to unhook the other strap of the backpack and land it between your feet.

*************

You pass Mogi smoking a cigarette outside and chatting with Aizawa when you enter the hotel lobby; exchanging brief ‘hellos’ with both of them. Following Watari up the elevator and back onto the suite floor, you buzz with slight excitement to get back on the case, to tell L about Light’s behavior. The older man smiles gently at you and leads the way down the hall before opening the familiar room door swiftly.

Without missing a beat you slide your backpack on the floor next to the couch and shimmy out of your jacket and toss it onto the bag. Matsuda is halfway through a vending machine bag of chips and Mr. Yagami sips on a take out coffee cup.

“Hey Y/N, how was class?”

You’re fluffing your hair slightly and smile down at Matsuda, a hand still combing across your scalp, “Oh, boring as ever. I was actually excited to come back.”

Matsuda gives you a grin and holds up his chips, “It’s easy to say that when you’re not here all day. We’re still on a break though, so fuel up while you have the chance”

“I’d actually like to have a quick word before we resume,” Ryuzaki’s voice drifts from across the room, right in front of the bedroom.

I didn’t even know he was there.

Mr. Yagami stands, “I’ll run to the coffee shop outside and grab you a few things,” his hand pats your shoulder while he shuffles on his suit jacket, “Matsuda, let the two downstairs know we’ll resume in 10.”

Matsuda begins to do a slight whine but cuts it short when Mr. Yagami shoots him a sideways glance. The two men excuse themselves and leave the room, leaving you, L, and Watari standing in the living room.

Ryuzaki waits a few moments after the final ‘click’ of the hotel door and turns back to the bedroom, “Come on, we have to be quick.”

You blink at Watari who just looks at you expectedly, and you peel your feet from their spot to walk towards the bedroom door, “But everyone just left..” You slide through the opening, “why do we have to do this in here..?”

By the time you’re in the room, L swiftly shuts the door and locks it before immediately turning to you, so close you can smell the scent of laundry detergent on his shirt. There’s no room to back up and your back flushes against the wall, your hands instinctively raising up in defense.

“How did it go?”

You blink a few times, still pushing against the wall before Ryuzaki walks backwards and leans against the frame of the bed. He doesn’t blink, waiting for you to answer. The distance lets you breathe fully for a few moments, “It was good…?”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate further, dark hair tickling the apples of his cheeks at the movement.

“In an investigative way and normal way,” Your hands fall to your sides, “He, at the very least, knows more than he’s letting on. His attitude was strange whenever we discussed anything related to the case, almost like he rehearsed all his answers.”

L takes the nail of his thumb between his teeth and looks off in no particular direction, thinking as you speak, “Yes he’s very smart and well prepared for any circumstance it seems. That behavior is rather unnatural for people his age I’d say.”

You run a hand through your hair, “It’s more than that though, I mean I’ve known him for a while,” its almost feels like a guilty confession to admit your friendship with someone now suspected of being Kira, “And the whole atmosphere shifted several times when he spoke. It felt like I was talking to a stranger.”

L nods to a steady beat as you talk, agreeing with your description but now searching for another detail, “You did well at acting natural on the phone when I called.”

“Oh, yea thanks. I wasn’t expecting you to call and change your voice.”

“But you stayed in character, it seems even Light thought you were on the phone with a classmate,” He drops his hand to his side and looks at you steadily, “Does he always ridicule you when you speak on the phone with men?”

You blink once. Then twice. And then rapidly. Words are caught on your tongue and are unable to form a coherent sentence in any language.

L snaps his fingers, “Yes that character there, I assume it’s the one you put on for Light? Do you do that on command?”

Huh? HUH?

The heat of your face could probably fry an egg if you cracked one on your cheeks, “W-what are you talking about?”

Ryuzaki tilts his head to the side and looks earnestly stumped for a split second, the bed post digging further into his hip as he leans.

“I could hear Light mention you looking flustered,” he says while noticing your stumped face, “You never ended the call, it just dropped once you presumably sat on the phone after you entered the cafe.”

The analog clock ticks absently in the background as you stand frozen staring at Ryuzaki and him mirroring the confusion back at you. With any dignity left you shake your head and wave your hands, “it’s not… I didn’t mean to..”

FUCK.

“It has nothing to do with you!”

The tone is loud and you wince as soon as it leaves your lips, the clock still ticking away distantly. L hangs on to your every word and brings a hand up to scratch a section of his bangs out of his face in slight confusion.

“I already assumed it had nothing to do with me. Were we not discussing how you can act flustered in front of Light? Why would you mention m-?”

Your eyes widen and your heartbeat is only one more bpm away from cracking a rib. He stops talking as he realizes the implication of his words, taking a moment to look at you in a slight surprise.

His hand falls back to his side and he lifts his leaned position from the bedframe to hastily walk away, a faint red dusting his cheeks and tips of his ears. Ryuzaki lets out a slight awkward cough, “Anyways, we should uh.. Talk about concrete evidence now..”

You wish the world would swallow you whole, or better yet, if Light really was Kira, that he would’ve just killed you at lunch instead. Remaining frozen in your spot, your eyes follow L walking towards the desk and fiddling with the lid of a cardboard evidence box absentmindedly.

“He’s seeing someone, I think.”

Ryuzaki stops and breathes in to collect himself before turning over his shoulder, “A girlfriend? I don’t believe he’s mentioned this to me..”

“Someone in his class named Takada. I’m not sure it’s solidified, but she seems especially drawn to him. They both stopped talking when I entered the conversation.”

You shrug lightly, there’s a lack of physical evidence to accuse Light of anything, and simply saying ‘his vibe was off’ isn’t proof. L remains looking at you over his shoulder and nods once, “Most men would mention a significant other of sorts, usually not in explicit detail, but at least once or as a reason to avoid doing something.”

“He’s not the kind to be inherently vulnerable about anything, which is weird considering he really enjoys talking about himself,” you mumble the last part but he catches it anyways.

Ryuzaki follows along and takes the corner of his bottom lip between his canines for a moment, “Regardless, if he’s making contact with anyone outside of this group who we haven’t cleared yet, I’ll have Watari increase the security presence.”

“You think she might be the Second Kira? Or some kind of Kira sympathizer then?”

Ryuzaki shrugs and avoids eye contact, now opening the lid of the box and skimming through the manilla folders, “It could be, though Light’s chances of being Kira are already low, meaning Takada's chances are even lower.”

You step closer to L, continuing to talk without really filtering the words out, “I mean, even if it isn’t Takada as the Second Kira, it would make sense if either Kira is a student.”

Ryuzaki slows his movements in interest but doesn’t turn around, only offering a small hum to indicate that he’s listening.

“As in, what if the clue in the Second Kira note wasn’t just Aoyama, but ‘showing notebooks’? Between two students that would be easy to use in casual conversation, sharing notes, so for Kira(s) this would be-”

“Showing each other how the other one kills.”

You pause and stumble slightly, Ryuzaki looking at you with wide eyes. You weren’t sure if you would’ve ended the sentence in that way, but the emotion on his face is too intense to correct it.

He looks at you as if you’ve told him someone just keyed his car, or stole his bike from the campus rack; eyes wide in surprise and mouth slightly slacking downwards.

“We should be extra careful then, right? What if Aoyama is some kind of test for each other?”

Ryuzaki doesn’t answer, though his face is becoming more relaxed and it seems his head is no longer reeling from this potential lead in the case. It's like he solving math problems in his head without even needing to write them out first. You swallow and begin to feel out of place, the clock continues to tick and you give it a sideways glance as you both stand there in silence. It’s definitely been 10 minutes by now.

L blinks abruptly and slides the lid back on the box and prepares to grab the slotted handles on either side, but he turns back to you instead.

“Yes, that would be bad.. But we’ll keep this between us for now ok?”

“The notebook..?”

“Everything. Takada, Aoyama, the notebooks, your-” He pauses and glances off, “Just everything. I’ll give Watari some security instructions and when the time is right, we’ll alert the rest of the group.”

You nod and rub the back of your neck before turning for the door, pausing to placed your hand on the knob; your back facing him, “Sorry about snapping earlier, it didn’t mean anything. Light just caught me off guard is all.”

Ryuzaki’s steps behind you, evidence box in tow, and falters slightly before he stands diagonally behind you.

“Oh, I understand, it must’ve been weird to have your.. boss.. suddenly contact you” there’s a slight pause as he waits for you to open the bedroom door, “Hopefully next time I call, it won’t make you as uncomfortable. Sorry about that.”

Your heartstrings tug at the quieter tone of his voice and you spin around, the door now partially opened.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that I…-” a slight shiver of nervousness runs up your spine and you can feel your face getting hot. Your mouth remains slightly open trying to explain how it actually made you feel.

Wait, how DID it make me feel... the fact that he called... since he was worried? Shit, shit, SHIT

Ryuzaki remains examining your expression, his eyes lingering on yours. There's a ghost of a smile on his face as he nudges the door open wider with his foot, “I think I know what you mean.”

He steps out into the living room and greets a snacking Matsuda on the couch while you stand in the bedroom doorway just watching him walk away. You swear you can almost see the tips of his cheeks and ears red again. Gently grazing your fingers over your cheeks and remaining motionless when your fingertips hum with warmth.

..shit…

[absolute1999]

90s goth musician intro ★ POST - MORTEM

☥ find me , in the dark. ☥

You perk your ears, straining to hear past the immutable chatter that seems to engulf your entire being. Beyond each alcohol ridden voice is a sound. This sound is different, unique, one you’ve never heard before, and it’s music. Music so enchanting…above this dingy bar?

Are you willing to take a closer listen..?

POST - MORTEM, formed in a small town, Mortem was initially a black metal project dedicated to venting emotions that came with everyday life. While black metal (dsbm) remain a core principle to the foundation of Mortem, as we matured our music matured along with us. The core / founding members of Mortem are VINCENT CRAVEN, JESSE VASQUEZ, and DEX ORTIZ.

What is Mortem? As it stands, Mortem is described as a “dark-wave band merging ethereal low vocals, mystifying lyrics, and occult metal sensibilities.” It is not uncommon to find riffs more likely to be heard on a MORTUARY DRAPE album across our discography. Still, our music is commonly played in goth nights around the world! More aptly, by me when I’m DJ-ing. buy our fucking album.

INSPIRATIONS? “We listen to a shit ton of music. Me and Jess first listened to RIDE THE LIGHTNING together in high school before delving into blacker metal. That’s where Mortem was formed. Old lo-fi bm cassettes were handed out to friends and people at shows. Initially we didn’t have a drummer — those shitty demos led us straight to Dex. From there, we spent too much time loitering our local record store. . Today, I’d say Mortem is most inspired by bands like THE CURE, SAD LOVERS & GIANTS, THRILL KILL KULT, SISTERS OF MERCY, ALIEN SEX FIEND. . All of the cool shit coming out right now. THE LOVED ONE by STRANGE BOUTIQUE was released not that long ago too. Good album, really good album. Heavily influential on us.”

SUCCESS? “We’re pretty entrenched in our local scene back home. Working on getting new stuff out, and while the stuff that is out sells alright, I wouldn’t call our music widely successful, and that’s fine. It would be interesting—but I don’t think we want that life, we like the community that comes with playing locally. I do want to play with some of the bands that are bigger than us though. Hopefully we get that chance.”

♰ the founders ♰

★ Vincent, Vince, Vin, Vinnie, Vincenzo, Vicente, the list goes on. Lead singer & guitarist. I am me, who are YOU?

★ Jesse Vasquez. Bassist & backing vocals. Cool guy, incredible bassist. We’ve been best friends since childhood — guy I made shitty black metal demos with. We work @ MOD ROCk together. He enjoys accosting innocent customers with outlandish death metal albums, an admittedly fun past time for both of us. Outgoing in every sense of the word, also loud. Very, very fucking loud..

★ Dex Ortiz. Drummer & backing vocals. Similarly as outgoing as Jess, great at drums & making pieces of clothing out of anything. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. Never started talking until high school though (reference black metal demo incident). I do not know how she puts up with me and Jess, and I truly don’t think she knows either. Also works @ MOD ROCk ! Often found starring longingly at any subculture-adjacent girl who enters the store.

♡ T. Not a member of Mortem but my boyfriend and our manager! Originally a frequenter of our lives, he was dragged to one of our shows on a whim. Despite not being interested in the music before; he came back again, then again, then again. . He never intended to manage us, but after seeing how we were handling Mortem it just happened—and we allowed it to.

est. 1991 , “ i’m not an effigy. ”

[wrongbodies]

The Worst Science Convention I Ever Went To

The main expo space of the convention center was abuzz with activity. Everywhere around me nerds and geeks of all sorts milled about, looking at the various experiments and research presentations. The main sessions were separated into different viewing rooms, but the floor of the main space was littered with all sorts of wackier research.

I stuck out like a sore thumb, I imagined. Well, me and my teammates. A couple of us guys on the lacrosse team had taken the same class expecting an easy grade. Turns out Intro to the Scientific Method was a bit more involved than we had thought. We had to go on field trips like this, or we'd get a shit grade. So here I was with my friends, Luke and Rocky.

"Seth!" Luke called out to me. I turned to see him standing in front of a strange machine, his short hair sticking up from static electricity. I approached amused.

"This is a van de graaff generator. It generates a direct current, and when the energy reaches your strands of hair, they repel each other. It appears to 'float.'" The dorky old man said. He was giddy with excitement. I was less amused now that he explained it, if I am being honest.

"Cool... uh, let's go check something else out Luke." I said. Rocky approached, gesturing to something away from the static machine.

"I don't get how people like this stuff." I said. "It's neat, I guess... but I'd rather be outside. It's so nice out, finally."

"I know. At least we have practice later. 'Sides, we need the extra credit from this. It's worth it." Rocky explained.

"True, ugh." I lamented. "Where are we going, anyways?"

"I saw something pretty crazy down this way. The guy is still setting up, but I'm actually wondering if it will work." Rocky said, a little mysteriously.

Luke, and Rocky, and I approached the small stage that the experiment was set up on. A small crowd of onlookers were already collecting. I noticed that there was a large group of dweeby high schoolers on the other side of the stage, all of them starry eyed at the machine set up on the stage. One of them kept glancing at me, though. A beanpole kid with messy red hair, bad acne, and watery blue eyes. A nerd, I could not help by wrinkle my nose at.

I and my lacrosse friends pressed in closer. When they pushed past some old women, I was able to read the plaque finally.

"Dr. Lark's Mind-Drift Experiment"

Seth had no idea what that meant, but Rocky seemed excited about it. He kept babbling about what a high it would be to try it. They were interrupted after a few more minutes by a broad-shouldered man stepping to the front of the stage.

"Greetings, convention goers and fellow scientists!" The man called. He sounded more like a carnival barker than a scientist. "I have a fantastic experiment to showcase today. I assure you it is possible to merge two minds, to wade into the memories and feelings of another!"

The crowd murmured in incredulity. Rocky was bumping Luke and I on the back. This was apparently what he was excited to try out.

"Now, I would like to give some trial runs. Could I have some volunteers?" Dr. Lark asked. Rocky grabbed Luke's arm and lifted, throwing his other arm up. Dr. Lark seemed amused at the exuberance, so he beckoned the two boys up.

The doctor got to work preparing the device. It actually looked quite similar to the van de graaff generator, from before. A single silver orb stood in the middle of the stage, atop a similar silver stand. It was so sleek and shiny, it looked more like some piece of scifi decoration that an actual experiment.

Sure enough, though, when the doctor finished turning the power source on, the sphere hummed faintly. The two lacrosse boys were commanded forward, and then instructed to place one hand each on the sphere. As soon as Luke and Rocky did so, they immediately seemed to slump into a stupor. Their heads drooped forward, eyes rolling back up in their head. They made no noise, except every once in a while a big breath. The doctor let them stay that way for about 2 minutes, before he shut the power off.

My friends came to, almost immediately. As they looked around, they looked at their hands, and then at each other. Grinning, they turned to the doctor and expressed their surprise.

"What did you experience, boys? Tell the crowd!" Dr. Lark asked.

"It felt like I WAS my friend, Rocky." Luke said. "I could hear his thoughts, and his memories... it was like I was in them, but I knew it wasn't me those things happened to."

"Same! I could feel his emotions, man. I didn't realize he had such a crush on my sister... Eww, wtf!" Rocky laughed. He was a little disgusted.

The crowd seemed a bit more convinced. Others were asking to have another demonstration. Dr. Lark sent my friends off the stage.

"I'll try it!" I yelled out. I was not about to let my friends have all the fun.

"Very well, then, step up here." Dr. Lark waved me up.

"Now, who would we have to drift minds with this strapping young man?" Dr. Lark asked of the crowd.

"Me! Oh me! Please!" A nasally voice cried out. I looked around and felt my heart sink when I realized it was that geeky boy from before, the ginger-haired boy.

"Excellent! Get up here and let's drift your minds together." Dr. Lark said.

I wasn't happy about sharing my mind with this loser, but I put myself in this situation, so I'd suck it up. I wasn't looking forward to swimming through memories about star trek or whatever.

When the hum returned to the sphere, after Dr. Lark turned the power back on, he instructed us to place one hand onto the sphere. I did so, along with geek boy. As soon as we both did, it felt like I was falling. Time ceased to matter, I was dropping into a void. I couldn't feel my body as a thousand other sensations took front stage of my mind.

What was striking immediately was how unfamiliar these feelings were. There was raw excitement like a bright sun, shining into me, through me... it defied my understanding. Suddenly memories of beating video game bosses, solving math problems, winning a quiz show, getting badges from a troop leader... everything felt like it happened to me. I was Randy. Randy? That's his name. My name. Our name.

Then I realized I could feel him. He was all around me, as I was all around him. It was like oil in water, we played across the surfaces of one another. We couldn't talk to one another, per se, but we could interpret each others feelings. I could tell he was a little wounded from my disgust with him. I felt guilty, but still couldn't help my dissatisfaction from seeping out.

We stayed like this for so long, I was wondering how it could possibly be less than a minute or so, but I knew that is what happened with my friends. So when we started to emerge from the shared mind, I was startled to hear screams and what sounded like a huge commotion all around.

I didn't even have time to take stock of my situation or look at Randy before I was knocked to the ground. It was jolting, but at least it spurred me to take notice. A fire was raging behind the stage. Dr. Lark was nowhere to be seen, the sphere had toppled over, seemingly what knocked us out of the drift.

Smoke was rolling over the top of the crowd, and everyone was dashing about in a panic. I looked for my friends, but they were gone. Randy was gone too, it seemed. I decided 'gone' was the right idea, and scrambled back to my feet and started pushing through panicked people to get to an exit I had seen before.

After several times nearly tripping over some nerd or crying geek, I was able to slip out a fire exit. Once I was outside and following a crowd to a safe distance, I reached for my phone to call Luke and Rocky. Except, when I reached down instead of the tight joggers I was certain I put on this morning, I found myself reaching into the pocket of a cheap pair of jeans. Strange... and what was weirder was the phone I pulled out was an Android, not my cracked Iphone...

Looking at the phone I was then alerted to something else. The fingers curled around the phone weren't mine. These fingers were spindly, with little freckles dotting them. The chewed nails definitely were not mine either. I opened the phone somehow, and found the camera app. I was starting to get even more freaked out than the fire had made me. Sure enough, the camera did not refute my suspicion.

Looking back in the camera was Randy. His face was my face now! Actually, it seemed I had his whole body now. I looked down the front of my torso. I could feel through the hoodie a narrow chest, with absolutely no definition except where bones peeked through.

"Randy! Thank goodness you are safe!" A stern looking woman called out. I spun, realizing that she was talking to me. "Let's go! We are doing a head count on the bus."

"But I'm not-" I started to argue back when I was bumped by someone stumbling through the crowd. The woman steadied me and then tugged, leading me to the yellow school bus. I was mortified, but everything felt like it was happening too fast.

How was I going to get out of this?

To be continued