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wannabehockeygf · 1 month

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greedy - quinn hughes

“He said ‘I’m just curious, is this for real or just an act?’

Can’t tell if you love or hate me,

Never met someone like that.”

summary: when you’re a bartender in a popular local club, the captain of the canucks who’s also one of your regulars takes a liking to you

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 9.3k. i’m so sorry.

warnings: 18+ NSFW! fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight degradation.

notes:

- this is soooo different for me! have never written about a hughes brother before even though they’re super popular here.

- missing vancouver hockey. sorry leafs nation.

- also this is probably some of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written!

- not proof read

- the eye colour thing again… sorry if they’re green.

***

Friday nights at The Roxy Cabaret were like trying to squeeze into your favorite pair of jeans after Thanksgiving dinner—uncomfortable, chaotic, and leaving you questioning your life choices. Honestly, it felt like the entire population of Vancouver had made a pact to invade this dingy club all at once. Not that you were complaining, though—well, maybe a little. It wasn’t like you had a choice; the rent wasn’t going to pay itself.

Sure, you worked there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hold a deep, burning, soul-crushing hatred for the place, right? Well, okay, maybe "hatred" was a bit strong. You did occasionally wander in on your nights off, blend into the crowd, and pretend you were just another twenty-three-year-old who didn’t have to worry about the bartender recognizing you. Because let’s face it, you needed a break from serving vodka sodas to tipsy twenty-somethings trying to relive their high school glory days.

What really got under your skin, though, was the crowd that showed up when you were on the clock. And by "crowd," you meant the entire Vancouver Canucks roster, who seemed to think The Roxy was their personal post-victory playground. It wasn’t that you disliked hockey—you were indifferent to it, like you were to a distant relative’s Facebook posts. If it was on, fine, you’d watch. But you weren’t exactly lining up to buy season tickets.

Most of the guys were fine—great even. Some of them were downright charming, the kind of guys you wouldn’t mind chatting with when things slowed down. Plus, they tipped like they were trying to make it rain dollar bills in a music video, which you appreciated. But then there was Quinn Hughes.

Oh, Quinn. Captain Smug himself. He had a way of getting under your skin like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

"Another round, please, Princess," Quinn drawls, tapping his fingers on the bar like he owns the place.

You grit your teeth, mentally counting to ten as you shake up a cocktail. "Can you get Brock to order it? He isn’t an egotistical asshole."

Quinn just laughs, that infuriating smirk of his widening even though he looks like he could use a nap. "Aw, come on, Princess, don’t be like that. You know you love me."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. Instead, you stick to your customer service script. "That’s not my name," you say, yanking out shot glasses like they owe you money.

"I know," Quinn says, brushing a strand of hair out of his face like he’s in some cheesy romance movie. "But you act like a princess, so it suits you."

Oh great, now your jaw’s tightening. Fabulous. You grab the tequila bottle with a little more force than necessary. "What do you want from me, Quinn?" you ask, trying not to let your annoyance seep too much into your voice.

He leans in closer, his smirk practically reaching his ears. "How about a smile, Princess? Is that too much to ask?"

You force the kind of smile you reserve for customer service nightmares, tight-lipped and entirely devoid of warmth. "Is that good? Can you go now?"

Quinn chuckles, taking the tray of drinks from you like he’s doing you a favor. "Always so feisty. But I like it. Keeps things interesting."

"Fuck off, Quinn," you mutter, wiping down the counter with the enthusiasm of someone scrubbing a crime scene. "I’m not here to entertain your ego."

He leans in even closer—so close you can practically count the flecks of mischief in his eyes. "But you do entertain me. Every time you brush me off, it just makes me want you more."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You’ve got a funny way of showing it. Just because you’re some big-shot athlete doesn’t mean you can treat women however you want."

Quinn’s gaze slowly trails up from your lips, where it’s been lingering far too long, to meet your eyes. "Ah, come on, you know I always take good care of you."

And damn it, he’s right. Quinn is probably your biggest tipper out of the entire team. And while you like the money, you hate seeing his stupid messy brown hair and annoyingly pretty blue eyes at your bar every time they win.

"Sure you do," you say, swiping someone else’s card through the machine, mentally willing him to disappear into the sea of other customers.

You watch Quinn walk away, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd like he’s parting the Red Sea. It’s infuriating, really, how someone so damn annoying can also be so… well, hot. There, you admitted it. The guy is hot. Like, "should come with a warning label" hot. But that doesn’t mean you’re about to give him the satisfaction of knowing you think that. No way. Not in this lifetime, or the next, or even if you were reincarnated as a particularly enthusiastic poodle.

Quinn Hughes is the human equivalent of a pop-up ad—persistent, unwanted, and impossible to get rid of without a lot of cursing. Every time you brush him off, he just comes back stronger, like he’s powered by your irritation. And maybe that’s what’s so maddening about him. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he enjoys every second of it.

The problem is, you’re starting to wonder if you enjoy it too.

Nope. Not going there. You are not going to be one of those girls who gets all flustered over a guy just because he’s got a good smile and a credit card that could probably buy out half the bar. You’re stronger than that. You’re resilient. You’re… currently mixing a drink with far more focus than necessary because all you can think about is what it would be like to grab him by the collar of that too-tight shirt and kiss that stupid smirk right off his face.

You’re shaking your head at the absurdity of it all as you pour the next round of shots, hands moving on autopilot. It’s bad enough that Quinn Hughes has invaded your workspace like some kind of hockey-playing parasite, but now he’s wormed his way into your thoughts too.

“Get a grip,” you mutter under your breath, lining up the glasses like they’re little soldiers marching to their doom. Because really, that’s what this is—a battle of wills. A tug-of-war where the prize is your sanity, and you’re losing.

A couple of your regulars wave you over, and you force your focus back to them, slapping on that customer service smile that’s become second nature by now. They’re nice guys, the kind who tip decently and don’t try to flirt with you in that obnoxious, entitled way that some customers do. They’re also blissfully ignorant of the 5’10, 180 pound storm cloud currently hovering over your head, which is exactly how you like it.

But just as you’re starting to enjoy a break from the chaos, you catch sight of him again. He’s leaning against the bar a few feet away, talking to Brock, who seems completely unfazed by the fact that Quinn has probably just sent your blood pressure through the roof.

You steal a glance at Quinn, hoping he won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. It’s ridiculous, really. The guy’s just standing there, doing absolutely nothing, and yet he has this stupid effect on you. Like he’s some kind of gravitational force, pulling you in against your will.

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the drink in front of you like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. But it’s too late. The damage is done. Your brain has already gone down that treacherous path, imagining what it would be like if you gave in just once.

But that’s a dangerous game, and you know it. Because if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. Hell, he’ll probably take the whole damn kilometer. And then where would you be?

Nope. Not happening. Not tonight, not ever.

You’re not sure when exactly it started—the whole Quinn Hughes thing, that is. Maybe it was the first time he sauntered up to the bar, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t. Or maybe it was the time he tipped you a hundred bucks just for bringing him a water, like he was trying to buy your affection. Which, spoiler alert, didn’t work. Or so you’ve been telling yourself.

But you can’t deny it any longer: Quinn Hughes is a problem. A major, five-alarm, get-the-fire-extinguisher kind of problem. Because somewhere along the line, your irritation with him has twisted into something… different. Something dangerous. Something that makes you wonder what it would be like to grab him by that annoyingly perfect jawline and just—

“Hey, Princess, you gonna make me another drink or just stand there daydreaming?”

And there it is. That voice, like smooth whiskey poured over gravel, cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s him. Of course it’s him. Because Quinn Hughes has a sixth sense for when you’re starting to get a grip on your sanity, and he’s hell-bent on ruining it.

You set down the bottle of vodka you’ve been holding, turning to face him with what you hope is a look of mild disinterest. “Back so soon? Didn’t think you could tear yourself away from your adoring fans.”

Quinn grins, leaning against the bar like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does. After all, what’s a Friday night without irritating the bartender who’s secretly trying to figure out what color your eyes really are because the lighting in here sucks? Not that you’d ever admit to that. “I just couldn’t stay away from you, Princess. You know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Again, not my name.”

He taps his fingers on the bar, a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic. “I know. But I like it. It suits you.”

“What, because I won’t roll over and worship the ground you walk on?” you shoot back, crossing your arms. You know you’re playing with fire, but there’s something addictive about sparring with him. Like a game of chicken, except you’re both too stubborn to swerve.

Quinn’s grin widens, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. Damn him. “Exactly. I like a girl with a backbone.”

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your tongue. Because for some reason, all you can think about is the way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only person in this crowded, chaotic club that matters.

So that’s why you decide to go for it.

“You ever had hate sex, Hughes?”

You can almost see the gears in Quinn’s head grind to a halt at your question. The usual smug smirk falters for a split second, and it’s the most satisfying thing you’ve seen all night. You’ve finally done it—left Quinn Hughes speechless. But the victory is short-lived because, as always, he recovers faster than you can blink.

“Hate sex?” he echoes, his voice dropping an octave, making you question all of your life choices up to this point. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, and you suddenly realize you’re standing way too close. “Princess, if that’s your idea of a pick-up line, I’ve got to say, I’m intrigued.”

And there it is, that damn smirk back in full force. He’s trying to throw you off, but you refuse to back down. You’ve already started this ridiculous game, so there’s no turning back now.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you reply, your tone as steady as you can make it. “Ever had hate sex?”

He lets out a low chuckle that sends shivers down your spine—not that you’d ever admit it. “I don’t know. Guess we’d have to define ‘hate sex’ first.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your mind racing with all the ways this could go horribly wrong. But damn it, you’re committed now. “I’m pretty sure it’s when you can’t stand someone, but you still want to rip their clothes off.”

Quinn’s eyes darken just a fraction, and you can feel the tension between you both ratchet up to an unbearable level. It’s like the entire club fades away, leaving just the two of you locked in this absurd, heated standoff.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice smooth and infuriatingly calm. “You want to rip my clothes off, Princess?”

You clench your jaw, determined not to let him see how flustered you are. This is Quinn Hughes, the guy who drives you up the wall every single time he walks into this bar. There’s no way in hell you’re about to let him get the upper hand.

So, you do the only thing that seems appropriate. You lean in, so close that your lips are almost brushing his ear, and whisper, “Maybe I just want to shut you up for five minutes.”

“You think you could handle it?” His voice is a low rumble now, and there’s something about the way he says it that’s got your stomach doing somersaults. “Because if we’re going there, I don’t do anything halfway.”

Oh, for the love of— You’re pretty sure your face is betraying you right now, showing just how much his words have affected you, but you can’t let him know that.

Quinn is still watching you, eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place. There’s a challenge there, a dare hanging in the air between you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. Too close. Close enough that you can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead, and those damn blue eyes that seem to see right through your carefully constructed defenses.

For a moment, you consider backing down, playing it off as a joke. But then Quinn would win, and that’s simply not an option. So, you double down, leaning in just a little bit closer, your breath brushing against his skin.

"Handle it? Quinn, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to." Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is doing its best impression of a drum solo. This is insane. You’re flirting with Quinn Hughes. Quinn Hughes, the guy who spends his Friday nights at your bar making your life just a little bit more complicated than it needs to be. The guy who seems to take an unholy amount of pleasure in riling you up. The guy who—God help you—makes your pulse race every time he so much as glances in your direction.

Quinn’s lips curve into a slow smile, and you can’t help but notice how annoyingly perfect his teeth are. Of course they are. Everything about him is infuriatingly perfect, from his tousled hair to his broad shoulders that you really shouldn’t be noticing right now. "You’ve got a mouth on you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine that you desperately try to suppress.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as you stare into Quinn’s infuriatingly perfect face. Seriously, who gave him the right to look this good, especially when he’s being such a smug asshole? You remind yourself that you don’t like him. You don’t. Except maybe you do, a little bit. Okay, a lot. But that’s beside the point.

Quinn’s eyes are locked on yours, and you can practically feel the heat radiating off him. It’s like standing too close to a bonfire—one wrong move, and you’re going to get burned. But damn it, you’re not backing down. Not when he’s looking at you like that, like he’s just waiting for you to slip up so he can swoop in and… do what, exactly? You’re not even sure anymore. And that’s the most dangerous part.

“Someone’s gotta put you in your place, Hughes,” you manage to say, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended. You’re aiming for sassy, but it’s hard to pull off when your heart is practically doing backflips in your chest.

His smile widens, and you want to slap it right off his face, but also—God help you—maybe kiss it off too. “Is that so?” he asks, voice dripping with amusement. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

Oh, he’s good. He’s really good. And damn it, you walked right into his trap, didn’t you? Because now you’ve got to follow through, or else he’s going to lord this over you for the rest of eternity.

But before you can figure out a clever retort, Quinn’s gaze flicks past you, scanning the crowded bar. When he looks back at you, there’s something new in his eyes—something that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“You know,” he says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “this place is a little too crowded for what I have in mind.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He’s not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting, is he? Because if he is, you’re in way over your head. And yet… there’s a tiny, traitorous part of you that’s intrigued. More than intrigued. You want to know what he has in mind, even though every logical part of your brain is screaming at you to abort mission and run for the hills.

You tilt your head, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “And what exactly do you have in mind, Hughes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn leans in closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. “Somewhere private,” he murmurs, “Where we can… talk.”

“Talk,” you repeat, your tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

He chuckles softly, and the sound sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

Oh, you do. You’ve got a lot of ideas, most of them involving doing things to Quinn Hughes that would definitely not fall under the category of “talking.” But you can’t just give in, can you? That would be too easy, and Quinn would never let you live it down.

But then again… maybe it’s time to stop overthinking things. Maybe it’s time to let go, just this once, and see where this crazy, ridiculous, probably-terrible idea takes you.

“Fine,” you say, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds. “Let’s go.”

Quinn’s eyes light up with something that looks a lot like victory, but you’re not about to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely, anyway.

“Lead the way, Princess,” he says, his voice a low purr that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

You roll your eyes—because of course you do—but there’s no denying the excitement buzzing just beneath the surface. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but one thing’s for sure: it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

With one last glance at the bar, you turn on your heel and start making your way through the crowd, Quinn hot on your heels. You can feel the tension between you both, crackling like static electricity, and it’s taking everything in you not to turn around and grab him by that stupidly perfect jawline right then and there.

You slip through a side door that leads to a narrow hallway, the noise from the bar muffled by the heavy walls. The air is cooler here, the dim lighting casting long shadows that dance along the worn carpet. You can feel Quinn’s presence behind you, close enough that you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Where are we going?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that makes your stomach flip.

“Storage closet,” you say, not even sure where the idea came from, but it’s out now, and there’s no taking it back. You know the staff keeps some of the extra supplies in a small room down the hall, and it’s as good a place as any to… well, whatever this is.

Quinn’s chuckle is dark and throaty, sending another shiver down your spine. “Kinky,” he murmurs, but you can hear the approval in his tone.

You reach the door and push it open, revealing a small, dimly lit room lined with shelves full of bottles and boxes. It’s cramped, barely enough room for the two of you, but that’s probably a good thing. The last thing you need is space to think about what you’re doing, because if you stop to think, you might just lose your nerve.

Quinn steps in behind you, closing the door with a soft click. The sound echoes in the quiet space, amplifying the tension that’s been simmering between you both all night.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You just stand there, staring at each other, the air thick with unspoken challenges and barely restrained desire. And then, like a rubber band snapping, the tension breaks.

You’re not even sure who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you—but suddenly you’re pressed up against the shelves, Quinn’s body crowding into yours, his hands bracing on either side of your head as his lips crash onto yours

It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s every bit as intense and heated as the tension that’s been simmering between you from the moment you met. His lips crash against yours with a force that sends your head spinning, and for a moment, all you can do is cling to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him back just as fiercely.

This is no sweet, romantic moment. This is raw, unfiltered desire, born from all the frustration and irritation that’s been building between you two for so long. It’s everything you never thought you’d want, and yet here you are, giving in to it completely.

Quinn’s hands are on you now, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. And maybe he can’t. Maybe you can’t either. All you know is that this is happening, and there’s no stopping it.

“Damn it, Hughes,” you murmur against his mouth, trying to inject some venom into your words, but it comes out more like a plea. You can feel his smirk, the arrogant bastard. He knows he’s got you, and it only makes you want to kiss him harder.

Or punch him.

Maybe both.

“Problem?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. His lips are slightly swollen, his hair disheveled from your hands, and he looks annoyingly good like this. All messy and untamed, like you’ve undone him somehow, when you know it’s the other way around.

You want to tell him to shut up, to stop looking at you like that, like you’re some puzzle he’s close to solving. But you’re too breathless, too overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. So instead, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him back down to you, your lips crashing together again in a bruising kiss.

He groans into your mouth, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers skimming the heated skin of your back. You shiver at the contact, hating how good it feels, hating that he knows it too. You can feel his smugness in every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

And yet, you don’t stop him.

Because you’re just as guilty.

You’ve been wanting this—wanting him—even though you’ve been denying it, pushing it away, convincing yourself that you despise him. But the truth is, that hatred has always been laced with something else. Something darker, more dangerous. Something you’re only now beginning to understand.

It’s infuriating.

It’s intoxicating.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter against his lips, your voice tinged with frustration as you nip at his lower lip. You want to hurt him, just a little, to remind yourself that you’re still in control, that this isn’t just him getting what he wants. But when he groans in response, his hands tightening their grip on your hips, you realize that maybe you’re not as in control as you thought.

“You say that like you don’t love it,” he replies, his voice husky as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck. Your breath hitches when he finds that sensitive spot just below your ear, the one that makes your knees go weak. He’s too good at this. Too good at getting under your skin.

You don’t want to enjoy this. You really don’t. But your body isn’t exactly cooperating, and the traitorous warmth pooling in your stomach isn’t something you can ignore. It’s maddening how much you want this, even as every logical part of your brain screams that this is a terrible, horrible, no-good idea.

But logic be damned, because the way Quinn’s lips are moving against your skin is making it very hard to care about consequences.

“You’re such a smug bastard,” you mutter, trying to inject some bite into your words, but they come out breathy, almost like a sigh. Ugh. Could you be any more pathetic?

Quinn chuckles against your neck, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked that about me,” he murmurs, his voice thick. His hands slide up under your shirt, fingers skimming over your ribs, making you gasp. “Or at least, you like it enough to let me do this.”

He’s right, and that just pisses you off even more. You do like it—hate it, love it, whatever it is, you’re feeling it with every nerve in your body. You can feel his smirk against your skin, and it only fuels the fire inside you.

You yank at his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can meet his eyes, which are dark and stormy with desire. “Don’t get cocky, Hughes,” you warn, even though you know it’s a losing battle. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

He raises an eyebrow, that damn smirk still plastered on his stupidly perfect face. “You keep telling yourself that,” he says, his voice low and rough. “But we both know you’re full of shit.”

“Full of shit?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to keep your wits about you even as his hands roam over your body. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s all talk and no—”

Quinn’s lips are on yours again before you can finish the sentence, cutting off your words with a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than the last one. It’s like he’s determined to prove you wrong, to make you eat your words, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s succeeding.

But you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. Not yet, anyway.

You push back against him, shoving at his chest just enough to create some distance, even though your body is screaming at you to do the opposite. His eyes flash with surprise, and you smirk up at him, a little breathless but still in the game.

“Easy there, Hughes,” you murmur, your voice laced with false bravado. “I didn’t say you could take control.”

Quinn arches an eyebrow, his lips quirking up into that infuriatingly smug smile that makes you want to both slap him and drag him closer. “Oh? I must have missed the memo where you were the one calling the shots.”

You grit your teeth, not entirely sure whether you want to punch him or kiss him again. Maybe both, but that would just be giving him the upper hand. Instead, you decide to hit him where it hurts—his ego.

“Please,” you scoff, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “You’ve been in my palm since the moment we met. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He lets out a low, amused chuckle, his breath warm against your neck. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re fantasizing about me at night?”

Your stomach flips at his words, but you refuse to let him see the effect he’s having on you. Instead, you tilt your head, letting your lips ghost over the shell of his ear as you whisper, “In your dreams, Hughes.”

But as much as you’re trying to play it cool, you can’t deny the electric tension between you both. It’s like the air is crackling with it, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. All you can focus on is Quinn—his hands, his lips, his damn voice that keeps pulling you deeper into this mess.

His hand slides down your side, settling on your hip, and your breath catches when he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space. You can feel every inch of him, the solid warmth of his body, the way he’s holding you like he doesn’t want to let go. And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe you don’t either.

Quinn’s lips are back on yours, but this time, it’s slower, more deliberate. Like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time, driving you absolutely crazy with how good it feels. You’re so wrapped up in it, in him, that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working on rolling up your shirt until it’s halfway up.

You pull back, just enough to look up at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He gives you a look that’s all innocence, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands keep moving, sliding under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin. “Just making sure you’re comfortable,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Comfortable?” you repeat, your voice coming out a little higher than you intended as his hands roam over your bare skin. “You think this is making me comfortable?”

Quinn leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “No, but it’s making you hot, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitches, and damn him, he’s right. He’s so infuriatingly right. But you’re not about to admit that. Instead, you try to muster up some semblance of defiance, even though you can feel your resolve crumbling with every touch, every heated look he throws your way.

“You wish,” you manage to say, but the words lack the venom you were aiming for. Instead, they come out breathy, almost like a plea, and you hate how much that turns you on.

Quinn grins, and it’s a wicked, knowing grin that makes your stomach twist in the most deliciously infuriating way. “I don’t have to wish,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Before you can respond—before you can even think of a comeback—he’s kissing you again, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that makes your head spin. You’re drowning in him, in the heat, the intensity of it all, and for a moment, you wonder if you’re going to lose yourself completely.

But then Quinn’s hands are on your hips, lifting you up onto the shelves, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You grab onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it hard to remember why this is such a bad idea.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to fall apart at the seams. But your voice betrays you, coming out shaky, uncertain, and Quinn hears it. Of course he does.

His hands slide up your thighs, fingers teasing the edge of your shorts, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches, the way your body arches toward him, desperate for more. Damn it, you shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t want him—but there’s no denying it now.

“You can stop this anytime you want,” Quinn whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalizing. “Just say the word.”

But you don’t say anything. Because you can’t. You don’t want to stop, not when his hands are on you, not when his lips are trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Not when every nerve in your body is screaming at you to let go, to give in to this insane, reckless desire.

Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with everything you’ve got, trying to show him that you’re not backing down, that you’re just as in this as he is. Maybe more.

Quinn groans against your lips, and you can feel the way his body tenses, the way his hands tighten their grip on your thighs. It’s intoxicating, the power you have over him, the way you can make him unravel with just a kiss, a touch.

But then his hands are slipping under your shorts, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s happening, it’s really happening, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you’re ready for this. If you can handle what comes next.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to lose it completely. But he’s not listening, or maybe he is, and he just doesn’t care, because his hands are still moving, still exploring, and you’re melting under his touch.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and the look in his eyes is enough to make your stomach flip. It’s dark, intense, full of heat—and, damn it, he’s giving you that smug smile again, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless, a contrast to the arrogant tilt of his lips. “You good?”

Good? Is that a joke? You’re anything but good right now. Your heart is racing, your mind is spinning, and your body—well, your body is betraying you in every way possible, pressing closer to him, silently begging for more.

“I fucking hate you,” you manage to choke out, though the words feel flimsy, a pathetic attempt at maintaining some semblance of control. Quinn’s eyes narrow slightly, and you know he doesn’t believe you for a second. But instead of calling you out on it, he leans in, his lips brushing against your jawline as he murmurs, “Then why are you so fucking wet?” He punctuates the words by brushing his fingers against the damp fabric of your underwear.

Your brain short-circuits at his words. Like, did he really just—? You’re torn between the urge to slap that smug look off his face and the overwhelming desire to pull him closer, consequences be damned. The nerve of this guy, thinking he can just—

But then his fingers move, and every coherent thought you had goes flying out the window. A gasp escapes your lips, and you curse yourself for giving him the satisfaction, but, damn it, how are you supposed to keep your wits about you when his hands are doing that?

Quinn’s watching you, his eyes dark with amusement and something much more primal. “What’s the matter?” he teases, his voice a low rumble.

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to muster up some sort of retort, but all that comes out is a breathy, “Shut up,” which only makes his smirk widen. God, you want to wipe that grin off his face so badly, but every time you think you’re about to regain control, he does something that completely derails you.

Like now, for instance, when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your underwear, and your hips jerk forward entirely of their own accord. Quinn’s chuckle is low and throaty, and you feel the vibrations of it against your neck as he nips at your skin, leaving a trail of barely-there bites that make your pulse race.

“Shutting up doesn’t seem like your style,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver. “But I think I can find a way to keep you quiet.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean because his hand finally dips lower, and suddenly, you’re not sure whether you want to moan or curse him out. Your body makes the decision for you, your head falling back against the shelf as a breathless moan escapes your lips, and you feel Quinn’s grin widen against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking—” Your words get caught in your throat as he moves his fingers just right, and the sound that comes out of you is more of a whimper than anything else. It’s humiliating, really, how easily he’s reducing you to this—a writhing, desperate mess—and the bastard knows it.

“Sensitive, are we?” Quinn’s voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a huskiness to it now, a slight hitch in his breath that tells you he’s just as affected by this as you are, even if he’s better at hiding it. “That’s cute.”

“Cute?” you manage to gasp, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance, even as your body betrays you by arching into his touch. “I’ll show you—” Your words trail off into a moan as he circles his fingers just right, and suddenly, the only thing you want to show him is how quickly you can come undone if he keeps this up.

You're about to fire back with something scathing, something that’ll put Quinn in his place, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp as his fingers work a little faster, a little rougher, hitting that spot that has your entire body going slack against the shelves. God, if anyone walked in right now, they'd have one hell of a show.

"Something you wanted to say?" Quinn’s voice is thick with that damn arrogance, but there's a slight edge to it now, like he's barely holding it together himself. Good, you think. If you’re going down, you’re taking him with you.

"Y-you're…" You try to form a sentence, anything to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the words get tangled in your throat as Quinn’s other hand slides up your thigh, his touch hot and demanding. "You're such a…"

He smirks, his lips hovering just over yours, so close you can feel the heat of his breath. "Go on, sweetheart. I'm dying to know."

"Oh, fuck off," you mutter, but your voice lacks any real bite, especially when his fingers dip lower, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. "Quinn…"

He pauses, his lips still pressed to your jaw, and for a moment, you think maybe—just maybe—he’s going to stop, give you a chance to catch your breath, to regain some semblance of control. But then he moves again, his fingers slipping past your last shred of dignity, and you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a curse.

"That’s what I thought," Quinn whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I knew you couldn't keep that tough act up forever."

"Screw you," you hiss, but your words are cut off by another sharp gasp as Quinn’s thumb brushes over a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh, God…"

"Already there," he murmurs, his lips finding that spot just below your ear that makes your knees go weak. He presses a kiss there, soft and maddeningly slow, before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and you can see the barely-contained hunger in them. It sends a thrill of both fear and excitement racing through you.

"Quinn, I swear, I’m gonna—" you gasp as his fingers continue their relentless assault, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Or maybe I'll just—"

"Just what?" he presses, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to finish the sentence. "Come all over my fingers? Because that’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it?"

There’s a part of you—the sensible, rational part—that’s still trying to cling to some semblance of control, some dignity. But that part is losing, rapidly being overpowered by the heat pooling in your stomach and the way Quinn’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he wants in the entire world.

For a moment, you consider making some sort of last-ditch effort to regain control, to pull away and regain your breath. But then Quinn’s thumb brushes over that spot again, and all thoughts of self-control go out the window. Instead, a moan slips past your lips—loud and unrestrained, filling the tiny storage closet with a sound that’s undeniably needy.

Quinn’s smirk widens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction, and damn it, he’s enjoying this way too much. “That’s right,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna come for me, yeah? Or do you want my cock instead?”

Your brain is short-circuiting, struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. The idea of him inside you, combined with the way he’s touching you, is almost too much to bear. You’re on the verge of losing it, and every part of you is screaming for release.

Finally, you manage a breathless, “Fuck it,” and let your hands wander lower, fumbling with his belt, your body arching against his in a desperate plea for more. You don’t care about the consequences, the logical part of your brain completely overridden by the burning need coursing through you.

“I swear, if we ever make it out of this closet,” you gasp, your fingers struggling with the stubborn belt buckle, “I’m going to have a hard time looking you in the eye.”

Quinn chuckles, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But right now, I think your focus should be on something else.”

You manage to loosen his belt, your hands shaking with anticipation. The urgency of the moment makes every touch and every breath more intense. “And what would that be?” you retort, trying to keep some semblance of your usual sarcasm. It’s hard, though, when his fingers are still doing deliciously wicked things to you.

Quinn’s fingers trace teasing circles, making your breath hitch and your body squirm against him. “Oh, I don’t know,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your ear. “Maybe on getting me out of these pants before I lose my patience.”

“Geez, Hughes, such a gentleman,” you manage, your voice breathless as you finally get his pants undone. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. It’s a heady feeling, and it’s only adding to the feverish heat between you.

You push his pants down just enough, and as you finally free his hard length, you’re met with the unmistakable evidence of his own need. The sight makes you gasp, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

Quinn groans into your mouth when you reach inside his jeans, his hips jerking forward as if seeking more contact, more friction. You’re both teetering on the edge now, the line between control and complete surrender blurred beyond recognition. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and you’re not sure if you want to keep pushing him or if you just want to let go and fall into the abyss together.

“God, you drive me fucking crazy,” Quinn breathes against your lips, his voice rough with need, and there’s a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—where you think you see something more in his eyes. Something deeper than just desire, something that sends a jolt of fear straight to your heart. But then his hands are on you again, pulling you closer, and whatever that look was, it’s gone, replaced by the raw, primal hunger that’s been simmering between you from the start.

You shudder as he grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just enough force to make you gasp. You can feel him, hot and hard against your palm, and it’s taking everything in you not to just give in, to let him take what you both so clearly want. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to let him have the upper hand, that wants to make him beg, make him come undone for you.

“Say please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

Quinn freezes, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours, and for a moment, you think you’ve pushed him too far, that he’s going to pull back and leave you hanging on the edge of oblivion. But then a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Please?” he echoes, his tone dripping with arrogance, as if the very idea of him begging is laughable. “Sweetheart, I don’t beg.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you stroke him slowly, deliberately teasing, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitches, his bravado faltering ever so slightly. “No?” you murmur, leaning in to nip at his bottom lip, your voice low and taunting. “You sure about that?”

Quinn’s eyes darken, and for a split second, you think you’ve got him—that you’ve managed to gain the upper hand. But then he’s moving, faster than you can react, pinning your wrists behind your back with one hand while the other yanks your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way that sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You want to play games?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. “Fine. But I don’t play fair.”

Before you can respond, before you can even think to respond, he’s pressing into you, his body solid and unyielding, and all coherent thought flies out of your head as he finally, finally gives you what you’ve both been craving.

The world tilts on its axis as he thrusts into you, hard and deep, and you’re not sure if the sound that escapes your lips is a moan or a sob or something in between. All you know is that you’re completely, utterly lost in him—in the way he’s filling you, stretching you, driving you to the brink of madness with every rough, relentless movement.

Quinn’s breath is ragged against your ear, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. You’re so close, so fucking close, and it’s taking everything in you not to just let go, to give in to the blinding pleasure that’s consuming you from the inside out.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Quinn groans, his voice strained, and there’s something raw, almost vulnerable in the way he says it, something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. “I’ve been imagining this from the first moment I walked in here.”

Your hands are still pinned behind your back, your body arched against the shelves, completely at Quinn’s mercy. And damn it, he knows it. He knows exactly how to push you to the brink, how to make you lose every ounce of control you thought you had. His movements are powerful, purposeful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, until you’re teetering on the brink of oblivion.

“Quinn—” You gasp out his name, your voice shaking with the intensity of it all, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through you like a living thing. His grip on your wrists tightens, the roughness of his touch sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your ear, his breath hot and ragged, and there’s something possessive, almost desperate, in his voice that makes your heart race even faster. “You’re fucking mine.”

And you’re so damn close, so close to falling apart entirely. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to give in, to let him have all the control. So, you tighten around him, just enough to pull a sharp, choked-off groan from his throat, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as his rhythm falters, just for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re—” Quinn’s voice is hoarse, strained, as if he’s holding onto the last shreds of his control by a thread, and it sends a thrill through you to know that you’re the one doing this to him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe out, trying to sound cocky despite the tremble in your voice. “Maybe you should—”

But you don’t get to finish the thought, because Quinn shifts his angle just slightly, and suddenly, he’s hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, that has your back arching off the shelves and a cry escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the triumph. He’s found your weakness, and he’s going to exploit it for all it’s worth. “Right there, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out again as he starts to focus all his attention on that one spot, his movements growing more precise, more deliberate. He’s relentless, driving you closer and closer to the brink, and you can feel yourself starting to unravel, to lose the tenuous grip you have on your composure.

“Quinn, I—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, don’t even know if you can say anything at all with the way your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps.

Quinn’s chuckle against your ear is low and dark, the sound a tantalizing contrast to the rough, punishing way he’s moving inside you. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it over the sound of you moaning my name.”

The arrogance in his voice is infuriating, but it’s also the last thing on your mind right now. Every thrust he gives you is like a jolt to your system, making it harder to stay focused, harder to cling to whatever shreds of control you have left. Your head is spinning, and you’re almost grateful for the way his body is pressed against yours, anchoring you in a whirlwind of pleasure.

You let out a breathless laugh, even as your body betrays you by arching into him. “You’re insufferable,” you manage to gasp out, trying to hold onto some semblance of your usual bravado. “And you’re really bad at this whole ‘being a gentleman’ thing.”

“Is that so?” Quinn’s voice is a low purr, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep telling me how much you hate me. It makes this so much better.”

You roll your eyes, even as a moan escapes your lips, the sound muffled by the way you bite down on your bottom lip. “You’re such a jerk,” you manage to say, though your voice is shaky and breathless, betraying just how much he’s affecting you.

“Yeah?” Quinn’s breath is hot against your neck, and you feel the brush of his lips against your skin, sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. “That’s not what your body’s telling me, sweetheart.”

You grit your teeth, determined not to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much he’s getting to you. But it’s a losing battle, and you both know it. Especially when he starts moving faster, his pace relentless as he drives into you with a force that has your entire body trembling.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your fingers digging into the shelves as you struggle to stay upright. “You’re—” Your words are cut off by a sharp cry as he angles his hips just right, hitting that spot inside you again that has your vision going white around the edges.

You don’t have time to think, don’t have time to process the fact that you’re completely, utterly exposed in a storage closet with a man who has made a sport out of driving you insane. All you can do is feel—every touch, every thrust, every ragged breath against your ear is pushing you closer to the edge, closer to losing the last of your control.

“God, you’re so… fucking… cocky,” you manage to choke out between gasps, your voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and desire. “It’s disgusting.”

“Mm-mhm,” Quinn’s voice is a low growl, his words vibrating against your neck as his teeth graze the sensitive skin there. “And you’re just an annoying brat who brushes me off every time I say something nice. But I figured it out, you just wanted me to rail all that attitude out of you.”

You try to respond, to counter his taunts with some biting retort, but all that comes out is a breathless moan as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more urgent. “Fuck, Quinn,” you gasp, trying to hold onto the last remnants of your control. “You’re—”

He interrupts you with a sharp, possessive growl. “I’m what? Don’t hold back now. Tell me how good it feels.”

Your head is spinning, your thoughts a jumbled mess of desire and frustration. “You’re a complete—” Another moan escapes you as Quinn hits that spot inside you again, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. “A complete… asshole,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

“And you love it,” Quinn’s voice is a triumphant whisper against your ear. “You love every second of this. Don’t you?”

You can’t even respond, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point where you’re just barely able to hold onto the edge of sanity. All you can do is nod, your body arching into him, your hands still pinned behind your back, completely at his mercy.

“You’re so close,” Quinn murmurs, his voice low and rough. “So fucking close. I can feel it. And I’m going to make sure you get there. I promise.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you feel yourself starting to unravel, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Quinn’s movements are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the brink, until you’re on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into oblivion.

“Quinn, I—” You try to speak, but the words are lost in a cry as he thrusts into you with a force that has your vision going white around the edges.

Quinn’s grip on your hips tightens, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “Come for me,” he growls, his breath hot and urgent. “Let go. Give it to me.”

And with those words, you shatter, your body convulsing with a pleasure so intense that it’s almost painful. You cry out his name, your voice echoing through the storage closet as you come apart, your entire world dissolving into a blur of sensation and release.

Quinn follows close behind, his movements growing erratic as he drives into you with one final, powerful thrust. You can feel his release inside you, hot and thick, and it sends a shiver through your entire body. He groans against your ear, his breath ragged and heavy, and you can feel the tension in his body as he finally, finally finds his own release.

The two of you are left panting in the aftermath, your bodies pressed together in the confined space of the storage closet. Quinn’s breath is hot against your ear, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your back.

“God,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper. “That was… intense.”

You manage a shaky laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agree, your voice still trembling. “That’s one way to put it. Now, get off of me. I have to get back to work.”

#vancouver canucks #quinn hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #qh43 #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #qh43 x Reader

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seph-ic · 2 years

Text

My favorite thing ever?

Nico has a service dog

Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything)

So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal.

Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him.

They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff.

The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.)

The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)

I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.

Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her.

Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)

the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.

soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.

She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief)

She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares.

She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.)

she can even open the fridge in the big house.

If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat.

Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.

Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work.

He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.

On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids.

All Nicos freind's and family love her.

Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.

Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.

Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.

Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.

Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.

Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.

She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.

Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.)

Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.

It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.

Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.

She gets absolutely spoiled.

At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case

She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)

Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.

Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.

But he absolutely adores Penny.

He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.

Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine

you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.

And she ADORES Will

Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.

The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!

Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.

Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.

#the best girl ever #pjo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #solangelo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson fanart #nico di angelo fanart #pjo hcs #nico pjo #toa #nico service dog au

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

Steve and Eddie go through the whole adoption process in 1996, despite how difficult it was to find somewhere willing to help them at all and despite their conflicted feelings on adoption.

The way they saw it though, providing a loving home for a child who needed one was better than the alternative. Eddie had enough experience with temporary foster homes to know stability was better than constant moving and questionable foster parents.

They get a foster placement almost immediately, a six year old girl named Amelia. She’s quiet, but not in a way that worries them. She’s very focused, and enjoys going to school more than any regular children’s hobbies. Neither of them know what to do with that other than keep encouraging it.

She stays for months, months turn into a year, and the agency finally gives them the go ahead to complete the adoption process.

But they don’t do anything without talking to Amelia.

She’s happy there, her therapist signs off on it immediately and explains that Amelia has shown more personality development and less signs of trauma with them than she had even living at home. Not to mention they actually brought her to appointments, unlike her previous guardians.

To celebrate, they throw a party with all their friends and family and tell Amelia she can invite anyone from school she wants. She invites everyone.

Turns out their daughter is a social butterfly and is friends with everyone.

At the party, Eddie pulls out his guitar, plays a bunch of popular kid-friendly songs after a very scathing look from Steve as a reminder to behave.

Amelia walks over to him after a few songs, on a sugar high like he’d never seen on her before, and asks to play the guitar.

He’s hesitant, but not because he’s still protective of his guitars, more because he doesn’t want her to embarrass herself in front of her friends. Kids are cruel, even and especially at seven, and the last thing he wants is this to be the thing that kids talk about for the next ten years.

She sits on the couch and holds it, arranging her fingers…correctly. Eddie watches.

Steve is watching from across the room.

She starts strumming, very quietly at first, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago. And then she starts really playing.

It’s one of the songs Eddie wrote. He played it for the last four months nonstop as he perfected it, and she’d apparently been watching.

Eddie’s jaw is on the floor and he quickly looks over to Steve, who has a similar look of surprise on his face.

He doesn’t interrupt her. She makes it through the entire song.

She looks up.

“When did you learn to play guitar?” Eddie asks.

“When I was watching you.”

“But have you played before tonight?”

Amelia shook her head, looking down. “Didn’t wanna touch it without asking.”

Eddie pulls the guitar from her hands and sets it aside, then pulls her into his lap and hugs her. Steve sits down on the couch next to them, hand on her back.

“You can always ask, sweetie. And if you’re this interested and this natural, we can buy you your own guitar if you want. I didn’t think you were interested in playing.”

“I wanna be like you,” Amelia admitted against his shoulder.

Eddie was done for. He looked at Steve, half-panicked, trying not to cry in front of these people, but Steve wasn’t faring any better.

“Then we can go get you a guitar tomorrow. You can get your own picks, too. They might even have purple ones.”

“Can I have red? Like yours?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

It only took them two days after that to realize she could play by ear, just like Eddie.

And then it only took another day after that to realize she had taught herself to read music too.

They spent hours and hours every week playing together while Steve cooked dinner or checked her homework or just watched them.

When Eddie’s band decided to record another album and go on tour when Amelia was 12, Eddie insisted that she get to be on it.

She ended up helping write one of their songs, played on the track on the album, and with a lot of work, convinced Steve to let them homeschool her for the entire 8 months they’d be on tour so she could perform on stage with her dad.

“Can’t believe she’s not even genetically yours. Are you sure you didn’t have an affair?” Steve asked the night before they were leaving for Europe.

“When would I have had an affair? I came back to the tour bus or hotel with you every single night,” Eddie kissed him softly. “She’s amazing, huh?”

“She is. What happens when she wants to be a full blown rockstar like her dad too?”

“Then we make sure she’s protected and has good people around her like I have. She could be a rockstar easily. She’s got the talent and the presence,” Eddie smiled. “And she’s got me to make sure no one takes advantage of her. But she’s only 12. We’ve got time to worry about that later.”

“You’re bringing her onstage every single night all over the world for the next eight months, baby. I think later is now.”

Eddie sighed. “She’s gonna blow them all away. I’m proud of her. Let’s focus on that for now.”

And she did blow everyone away. The fans and the media had nothing but good things to say, and Steve didn’t have to go into overprotective mom mode at all until she was 15 and signing a record deal of her own.

But between Eddie and him, the entire industry knew better than to fuck with her or them.

They made rules, of course. School still came first, she still had required family events to be at, she still had regular friends at home. She wasn’t allowed at any parties, not even the events for award ceremonies.

But she didn’t really need those rules. She had no interest in parties or abandoning her friends or family, and she was a straight A student who still had hopes of getting into Brown for Journalism like her Aunt Nancy. She had a passion for music and wanted to share it, but not at the cost of the rest of her life.

And Eddie and Steve did everything they could to make sure she got to have everything. That’s what they’d promised her from day one.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #so adoption is complicated #and I won’t pretend that there are plenty of aspects of the system that are so fucked beyond repair #and this is not the time or place to talk about them #so don’t do that in the comments #you’ll get blocked tbh because we’re here in this specific space to have fun #that is all #steddie dads #also this isn’t how the industry works #this isn’t how the media works #the world is cruel to young performers #but we’re pretending #this is fiction

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adrinoir · 1 year

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The Miraculous Movie was different than the series…and that’s okay!

I watched the movie this morning and loved it! I think it’s important to talk about the changes that were made and what impact they had.

How the characters were rewritten

There definitely was a difference in how the characters were written in the movie, and some of the redevelopment of characters was really good!

Gabriel was by far the one who had the best redevelopment of his personality. Gabriel in the series is awful, as we all know.

In the series, he barely gives a shit about his own son, like there is absolutely nothing redeemable about his character. In every “what if” episode and the season 5 finale, Gabriel does not show any regret to hurting people, including his own son.

However, in the movie, Gabriel actually makes a better attempt to communicate with Adrien and, most importantly, feels strong regret when he hurt his son. He cries; he feels remorse for destroying Paris and injuring Adrien in the process. He hugs Adrien (along with the spirit of Emilie 🥹) and decides to stop being Hawk Moth. It was beautifully done. He got a redemption arc that he never got in the series. I know I personally felt so good watching that and seeing the relationship between him and Adrien being repaired.

Marinette was her usual clumsy self, but was written as having no friends at school because she embarrasses herself so much. In a way, it makes more sense than her being so popular like she is in the series. Kids in high school can be pretty judgy and ruthless. So it makes sense for the “clumsy girl” to be made fun of and judged by people who don’t know her well.

Adrien was different in a lot of ways. He wasn’t shown running to school to gain freedom. He wasn’t introduced as being a super model who’s friends with Chloe. Instead, he’s already going to the school, he’s already friends with Nino, and he happens to run into Marinette at the library. He doesn’t have that same chemistry with Marinette as he does in the series which is a bit odd that they took that away, but it does make sense that he’d turn her down when she asked him to the ball, since he loves Ladybug. In the movie, he very clearly sees Marinette as just a friend and it’s shown that he’s building a friendship with her without him developing a crush. It’s different but still wholesome, especially when he shows her the old family photo to her. Plus, it evens it out well since Ladybug obviously turns Cat Noir away but they’re still building up their bond, too. They both get turned down.

It was ehhh that Adrien was a bit too cocky at times as Cat Noir, but overall, his goofiness and self confidence is still pretty on brand for him. He was still very encouraging towards Ladybug but not overly flirtatious, pushing her to her limits. Instead, it was them lightly teasing each other and then playfully fighting. And, speaking of the playful fighting, their bond was stronger in the movie seeing as how they were shown spending more time together off duty and that they were treated as equals.

In the show, Cat Noir is automatically made sidekick and left in the dark about everything. But in the movie, he gets to meet Master Fu in disguise alongside Ladybug. Sure, he didn’t help Master Fu with his cane like he did in the series, but that didn’t matter since the lore was changed.

Alya was less annoying in the movie. Sorry. Don’t get me wrong, I love Alya in the series, but she’s so over the top at times with how obsessed she is over the heroes, blogging, and filming things for her blog. In the movie, she was toned down a lot and I liked that. It was also cute that Nino had a crush on her and just her, not Marinette first. Unlike the series, he wasn’t on that pipeline of guys who fell for Marinette since that pipeline doesn’t exist in the movie.

Tom was made out to be an embarrassment for Marinette which is honestly more realistic for a teenager. Most teenagers get pretty embarrassed by their parents, especially when they still treat them very childlike. And, I like that he went out to the fair to look for her since he heard there was danger. Marinette’s parents don’t usually go out to look for her or make sure she’s in her room when there’s danger afoot. So, I appreciate that they made Tom do that since he obviously loves Marinette a lot.

The rewriting of (some of) the lore

As I had mentioned in my previous section, the lore was rewritten, too. Instead of Master Fu being the one to pick Marinette and Adrien simply because they helped him, the kwamis sense that Marinette and Adrien are the right people to be Ladybug and Cat Noir. That was a much better way to write that, in my opinion.

Hawk Moth got ahold of the butterfly miraculous by mistake. That part wasn’t changed but also, it didn’t need to be.

The change of plot

The plot was very simple. It didn’t have a whole lot of crazy, in depth details like the show’s does. So, anyone who has never watched the show can easily understand and absorb what’s going on (I will be forcing my boyfriend to watch it with me since he’s never seen the show lol).

I like that it was very clear cut and easy to understand while still being intense and meaningful. It still summarizes a lot of what the series entails while fixing some issues in the plot development.

They didn’t doddle with Hawk Moth like they do in the show. He was a successful villain in his second attempt but then realized he should stop when he hurt his own son in the process.

Also, there was a reveal. It was a wee bit underwhelming, but I still think it was done well! It was a moment with just Marinette and Adrien alone, as it should be. And, it was cutesy and heartfelt. The fact that Marinette dressed like Ladybug for the ball (cutest dress ever imo) and Adrien dressed like Cat Noir was so cute. That’s what a lot of the fandom has been asking for and written about in fanfics, I feel like.

The romance between these two is most important. They didn’t need Kagami and Luka as 2nd love interests to throw things off track. Yes, I like these characters in the show, but they weren’t needed in the plot.

The music

I love musicals. I was a bit of a theater kid in high school, plus I’m obsessed with music lol. So, yes, I’m a bit biased when I say I love that they made this a musical.

I personally loved the music. I can tell a lot of good effort was put into it and I’ve already been listening to the songs on my Spotify. The song between Ladybug and Cat Noir in the theater “Now I See” and Cat Noir jumping on the clouds (literally, on cloud nine) singing “My Lady” was absolutely adorable and super romantic, which, as we know, is a big part of the show.

Even Gabriel’s song “Chaos Will Reign Today” was amazing! It conveyed a lot of emotion and turns into one of those dramatic villain songs. Keith Silverstein is clearly talented enough to sing for his own character and he did it well.

My only nitpick is that Marinette’s singer, Lou, has a very different voice than Christina Vee. So, Marinette sounds very different, much more mature-sounding when she sings and it kinda catches you off guard. I’m surprised they didn’t have Christina sing for her, but there must’ve been a reason why she didn’t. But, SQVARE sounded similar enough to Bryce Papenbrook when he sung for Cat Noir which i absolutely love.

Conclusion

I personally give this movie a 10/10 just because it made me smile the whole time, and it’s such a feel good movie. I’ll happily watch it again and listen to the soundtrack, especially on a day when I’m feeling down. It wasn’t perfect in every aspect, but it was perfect in a simple, heartwarming sense and that it can be watched by everyone, not only people who watch the series.

I understand if it made you cringe or you were moreso looking for a continuation of the series not a retelling. But, I prefer some simplicity which is a big part of what made me like it. Like I said, I know it wasn’t absolute perfection, but it was so frickin adorable and I can’t help but smile.

There’s a lot of differences but also plenty of similarities between the movie and the show. But understand they’re not meant to be the same and that’s okay! I don’t think the movie was horrible for most of the changes it made. In fact, I think most of them made sense and made it a bit more realistic (as I explained).

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4xiaojun · 1 year

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DEAR DIARY, I HATE JUNGWON !

SUMMARY | you hate jungwon- like a lot. everyone at your school knows it at this point, so why is it the minute you see him shed a tear, you feel bad? with this new found guilt, you're able to see new sides of jungwon that your anger blinded you from before. it doesn't take you long to realise that you don't hate these new sides of him as much as you'd like to.

PAIRING | jungwon x fem!reader

WC | 18.2k

WARNINGS | profanity, violence, vandalism, mentions of alcohol & sex

FEATURING | second lead sunghoon, heeseung is mentioned & ITZY

TAGLIST | unofficial taglist i just need the hype pls @tyunni @geombyu @yjwfav @junityy @jaeyunverse @ijhyo @equalheart @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @fairybinie

A/N | before u come at me for plagairising I AM HYUKAAS OKAY THIS IS MY FIC AHAHA IT'S A REPOST initially i was going to rewrite this but u all loved the og version so i'm going to give u the og version i literally have not changed a word. u guys gave this a lot of love on my old acc so i hope u enjoy :)

you: wtf

jung_1: ?

you: chemistry club??? really?

jung_1: i wanted the piano club

you: so what? me going isn't going to stop u

jung_1: u think i wanna see your face every day after school?

class is enough smh

you: so u signed me up for chem?

jung_1: it was the only one left lol

you: stfu

jung_1: k lol

From what you can remember, Jungwon hasn't always been like this. You've tried to sit down and pinpoint a date back to when this all started, but the best you could come up with was when he blew out your candle at your eleventh birthday party. That was the first and last time you had ever invited him over to your house.

The two of you are neighbours, and yet you've never had a single decent conversation with the guy in your entire life. Ever since the two of you were little, Jungwon always found a way to laugh at you, talk shit about you or do something to purposely annoy you. Your friends always warned you not to do anything back, that he was only doing it to draw out a reaction, but it was so hard not to whenever you saw his stupid face. The fact that he's so popular in school doesn't help either. Whenever you complain about him to anyone, you're always met with the same thing: "But he's so nice to me." "He's not like that with me." "You must have done something to upset him, Jungwon is the sweetest."

Yeah, sweetest pain in your ass. There is literally nothing about him that you like. It's clear to everyone that you hate Jungwon.

Sitting on your chair, you rest your chin on your palm as you stare at the whiteboard. You're fuming, to say the very least. Written on the board are everyone's names under the club they'd be joining as soon as the bell rings. Yours is supposed to be under piano club but instead it's under chemistry with only one other person who signed up. You barely even know who he is.

"Who's Sunghoon?" Your friend, Yuna, whispers.

You recognise the name (being in the same school for 3 years, it would be kind of rude not to) but you don’t really know who he is. “I think it’s the guy that ice skates.”

"He's so cute," Yuna gawks, "you're lucky you're gonna be alone with him for the rest of the year."

You scrunch your face at your friend, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, doing chemistry." Fuck Jungwon, signing you up for a club that you're already failing in class, just so he can go to piano. You purposefully ran to the piano club stand so that you could sign it before him, but that asshole must have rubbed out your name and written his instead. As much as you despise him, you have to admit that was a clever thing to do.

Yuna slaps you lightly, "Maybe you can get him to tutor you for free. I heard he gets people to pay him ��75,000 per hour."

"No, I'm pretty sure the point of chemistry club is to have fun. He's probably gonna be a nerd the entire time," you grumble into your palm, already miserable about the hours and hours you're going to have to spend with a science nerd. There must have been dozens of clubs with spaces still available; Jungwon could have picked another music club, a sports club, literature, art, history, debate, politics, or even maths for God's sake. But the boy chose chemistry. He knows that you're failing all three of your sciences, so not only did he remove you from your favourite club, he put you into your worst enemy—second to Jungwon. God, did you want to pull out his stupid black hair right then.

“You’re not going to let him win this one, are you?” Yuna deadpans, probably bored from your endless war with Jungwon. You don’t blame her, if the tables were turned, you’d probably say the same things she does. “Just leave it.” “If you ignore him he’ll stop.” “Be the bigger person.” Blah blah blah. It would be humiliating to let Jungwon get away with anything. You can’t even imagine it, coming into school everyday and hearing him laugh at you as if he has the upper hand. You would never ever let that happen, not even over your dead body.

Brushing your hair out of your face, you chuckle breathlessly. “As if.” There is absolutely no way in hell that you would let Jungwon get away with ruining your after school club for the rest of the year. You had to come up with something big, something that would make him suffer just as much—no, more—for the whole year, too.

Sadly, you didn't have enough time to come up with a plan.

"Okay, so why is a fluoride ion bigger than a sodium ion?"

You groan loudly, whacking your head against the table for what feels like the fiftieth time. You've been in this room for ten minutes with Sunghoon, and he's already managed to make it boring as hell. Optimistic, you came into this room hoping that Sunghoon would come up with some cool science-y project for the two of you to do. Instead, his idea of fun is extra homework. The guy seriously brought question packs for you two to do for a whole hour.

What a joke.

"Sunghoon, why are you asking me like I know?"

He gives you a judgemental look, and at this point you're too bored to care about how stupid he thinks you are. You should be practising the piano and making keyboard remixes on the iMacs, not memorising the periodic table with a nerd.

"Come on," he breaks into a nervous giggle, "this is like, the third question. We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

No. There's no way he's taking this club seriously. Dramatically, you push back your chair and glare at him. "You know what, I'm going to go get something to drink. You answer some questions while I'm gone, yeah?" You fake smile at him, unable to look at his nerdy face any longer. God, you hate science kids.

Skipping out of the classroom, you make your way to the vending machine. You need a warm drink to calm your stress down but the cafeteria is too far away so a bottle of apple juice should do. Anything that gives you an excuse to stay away from Sunghoon so that you can focus on your plan to get your revenge on–

"Oh, Y/N! What a coincidence!"

There it is, that dreaded, child-like voice you've grown to hate. Turning around, you're met with his half closed eyes and grin so upturned you can see his baby teeth. If you weren't in the middle of paying for your drink you would have slapped that smirk right off his face. Okay, maybe not, but it's really pissing you off.

"Yeah right, you probably came here to laugh at me." You grumble, fumbling with the vending machine that's choosing not to be on your side today.

He smiles again, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging like the oh so innocent boy he is. "I just wanted to check up on how you're doing in your new club. I understand, Y/N," he puts a hand on his chest, pouting, "I really do. Chemistry isn't for everyone."

You whip your head at him immediately, causing him to snort into his hand and break into a laughter that echoes in the empty hallway. "Wow, Jungwon, you're so funny. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you get away with this."

He comes closer and leans his elbow on the machine so that his head is right above yours, his eyes locking right onto you. Every time he gets close, you're reminded of when Yuna tells you to take a good look at him to see what all the girls in your school sees. But all you can see is an arrogant, stuck up piece of shit—his only entertainment being getting on your nerves. You can see why someone would find him attractive. But his personality is so strong that it practically covers all of his charm to you.

"Admit it," he laughs, "you can't beat me this time. This is one of the best things I've done, I'm kinda' proud of this one. I mean, nothing beats the–"

"Shut up, I am going to beat you. As soon as school's over, I'm coming up with something." You scowl, punching the vending machine so that it will let your bottle fall.

Jungwon coos at you, finding this whole situation amusing. "Aw, is it that hard that it's taking up all your brain space?" He asks in a baby voice. "You can't think of a plan better than mine because you're so busy trying to figure out what O stands for?"

Too focused on the stupid machine, you ignore the menacing voice coming from your left. You've smacked it, shaken it, kicked it, you're not really sure what else there is to do.

Jungwon pushes you out of the way and resets your order, making your jaw drop as you see your bottle that was so close to falling go back to its spot. You shove him back, annoyed that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's stronger than you. "Hey, that was–"

Jungwon sighs dramatically, before bringing out his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a credit card.

"Show off." You mumble, crossing your arms as you watch him dial his order.

"The machine clearly doesn't like you." He smirks, as his coke falls immediately.

You try to hold back how shocked you are, and the urge to ask him to order for you. But with the way Jungwon snickers at you, you can tell he already knows. It isn't like he's going to order for you anyway.

And you're right, because here he is, popping open his can and sipping it right in front of you. He's acting like he's in a commercial for the drink, all just to wind you up. But you can't let him win, you'll never let him win. So you stay, and watch him drink until the last drop and walk away slowly.

Absolute pain in your ass.

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You're starting to get sick of starting all your diary entries with the same thing. Jungwon isn't even here; you're in your room, alone. There's nothing to remind you of him. Yet every night, you sit at your desk and scribble in your diary. And every night, you start off each entry reminding you that you hate him.

You flip through your diary entries of the past few weeks, and they're all starting to blur together. Each entry is almost as similar as the last. It's all the same thing—you hate Jungwon. You see him in the morning of school, your mood changes. You're reminded of him in your chemistry club, you get angry. You walk behind him on the way home from school, the two of you are arguing.

When the hell is this going to end?

To be honest, thinking about this is just making you hate him even more. The worst thing about this is that you can't even walk it off like you usually do at school. You're used to pacing the school corridors or the track field whenever he makes you really mad. But outside of school, you always meet him. It's either him, or his annoying and inappropriate older friends, or his evil dog. You'd rather rot in your room than risk having to waste your energy fighting with him, or running away from his dog, or pulling your skirt down from his friends.

You're trapped. He gets to enjoy his life while you're trapped at home, writing “I hate Jungwon” in your diary every single day. The power this guy holds over you is huge, and you just can't wait to move out to college to finally get rid of him.

Walking down the hallway, you bump into your chemistry partner of the past two weeks. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen this boy outside of the chemistry club, so seeing him now, walking tall, hands in his pockets and a lot of other students around him was quite a shock. You really thought he was nothing more than a nerd.

As soon as Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he smiles widely and you can’t help the way your heart flutters a little at that. Did Jungwon really make you so angry about chemistry that you never noticed how good looking Sunghoon is? Or are you just that bad at it that you had no time to focus on Sunghoon’s looks? As he walks away from his friends and towards you, you gulp, brushing down your hair and skirt with your palms that are starting to sweat. You see this guy every single evening, what difference is it now?

“Hi Y/N,” he smiles, one hand sitting attractively in his pocket and another rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you reply, but your voice comes out as barely a whisper. You’re a little frightened at how shy you are in front of Sunghoon right now, when you were literally cursing him off in your head yesterday because he laughed at you for not knowing an equation.

He chuckles, and you swear your heart flips at the way his eyes crease when he does. “You know, I was starting to think that you didn’t even go to this school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Well, at least the feeling is mutual. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realise you’re kinda popular.” You say as you eye his large group of friends that are all waiting for him. “It must be the ice skating, right?” You joke, mentally slapping yourself for being rude.

Sunghoon laughs anyway, and he leans forward when does, making your heart nearly jump out of your chest. “Yeah, either that or my brain.”

“Nerd.” You playfully roll your eyes, finally being able to mix together the Sunghoon that gets all excited when he’s got a hard question right, and the Sunghoon that’s standing in front of you right now.

A voice interrupts the two of you. He always does. Whenever you manage to find a little bit of peace at school, Yang Jungwon always finds a way to ruin it. You’re so close to getting him charged for stalking at this point. Both you and Sunghoon turn around to see who was clearing their throat, and you almost growl when you do.

“What do you want?” You snap, not giving him the time of day.

Jungwon tilts his head with an offended look on his face and a hand on his heart like he always does. “That’s rude, Y/N, I was just–”

“She said what do you want.” Sunghoon deadpans beside you out of nowhere.

Jungwon furrows his brows, as do you. Nobody has ever come between the two of you bickering before, this was new to the both of you. You decided to stay quiet and see what Jungwon would say, a little nervous at how this might all play out.

“What?” Jungwon chuckles, jutting out his chin to make himself appear taller. The two are practically the same height, but something about Sunghoon’s figure makes him seem so much taller than Jungwon. Are you about to witness an alpha brawl out?

Sunghoon doesn’t move, you don’t even think he’s breathing right now. His eyes are trained on Jungwon’s with a glare so intense even you’re a little scared. “Is there something you need to say to Y/N?”

Jungwon’s brows remain furrowed as his eyes narrow and an annoyed look spreads across his face. How ironic, he’s starting to look like you. You don’t think you’ve seen Jungwon this physically frustrated since the time his bike broke when he was thirteen and he tried to kick it but ended up spraining his ankle. He always looks amused. No matter the situation, Jungwon always has a smile on his face. Seeing him like this—threatened—caught you a little off guard.

“I can say whatever the hell I want to her, pretty boy.” He muttered, his face inches away from Sunghoon’s.

Someone behind you whispers something about their sexual tension, almost making you snort at the scene. You have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, because now you can’t unsee it.

“Well, too bad we have somewhere to be, don’t we, Y/N?” Sunghoon turns to you, and all of a sudden you can feel everyone’s eyes focusing on you.

You giggle awkwardly, before making eye contact with Jungwon. He’s never glared at you like this before, and for the first time you can think of, you feel small in front of him. “Uh, yeah, we should, uh, get going.”

Sunghoon grins at Jungwon as soon as you speak, and barges past his shoulder aggressively before pulling you by your wrist to go and follow him. For some reason, though, you can’t help but turn around to see Jungwon standing there, already looking right at you.

“Sooo,” you sit on a desk as Sunghoon closes the door to the empty classroom the two of you are hiding in behind him, “you gonna’ explain what just happened?”

Sunghoon leans on the desk right in front of you and looks at you blankly, like what just happened didn’t happen at all. “What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like what? Jungwon’s probably going to be so mad because of this.” It’s true, the bike incident when he was thirteen led to him being extra rude for the whole time he was injured. You figure this time it’s his pride that’s hurt, so he’s going to lash out at you until he makes himself feel better. You haven’t even gotten back at him yet for the chemistry club situation, so you really don’t want to be dealing with a moody Jungwon; you’re scared of how creative he’s going to be.

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back in vexation as he does. “Come on, Y/N, aren’t you bored of it?”

Confused, you answer. “Of what?”

“This whole cat and mouse deal you have going on with Jungwon? I remember being in the same class as you in our freshman year of high school, and everyone in the class was sick and tired of you two bickering everyday. I thought it’d blow over eventually. How are you still letting this go on?”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Of course you’re tired of it. Of course you want it to end. Of course you want nothing to do with Jungwon and you want a peaceful last year of school to focus on your exams and college. Of course you want to be able to hang out with your friends without thinking about Jungwon. Of course you want to write in your diary without mentioning him. Of course you’re sick of this all. But how the hell are you supposed to end it? You hate his guts and he hates yours. His pride may be thick but yours is definitely thicker.

This situation reminds you of the time you did try to be nice to Jungwon once, with the hopes all of this mess would end.

Your mum just got off the phone and suddenly bursted her way into the kitchen. A little startled at her fast movements, you followed her and sat on the counter. “Mum? What’s wrong?” Panicking, she gathered different ingredients and kitchenware to cook something, and you couldn’t be any more confused. “Mum! What’s going on?”

“The Yang family,” she started, already mixing away two eggs, “their son is sick. This is the only time she has ever asked me to do anything, Y/N. That family has looked down on us ever since we moved here, and not once has Mrs Yang ever asked for help. But she’s away, and her boy is at home sick without anyone to feed him. If I don’t make a good impression on that snobby little boy, they’ll think we’re incapable and cruel human beings. I have–”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, not really thinking much of it. As far as you could care, Jungwon could starve. “As long as I’m not the one delivering it,” you mumbled, leaving the kitchen.

Of course you were the one delivering it.

Releasing a long sigh from the pit of your chest, you tried to put aside your pride and hatred to drop off the tray of food for Jungwon. You tried to remind yourself to have some humanity, that he was sick and alone and needed some food. The only thing that managed to help you push through was imagining him begging on his knees for food from you and you holding the tray away from his sick hands’ reach. A little evil, but it helped you press his doorbell.

When Jungwon opened the door, you could feel your heart sink to the ground. All those mischievous thoughts in your mind about teasing him flew out of your mind as soon as you got a good look at his face. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were red and glassy. He looked frail, like a single touch could knock him over. You gasped when you saw him, and immediately took a step inside to go and help him anyway you could.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing the back of your palm on his head that was drenched in his sweat. “Oh, my God, you’re boiling. Jungwon, take your coat off.” Placing the tray on the ground, you tried to help him take off his coat but he wouldn’t budge. Looking back at him, he had a disgusted look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing? My mum said you came here to give me food, not baby me.” He shrugged his coat back on to stop it from sliding off his shoulder and snatched the tray up from the ground.

“What? I’m trying to help-”

“Who asked you to? Piss off, Y/N.”

Standing outside of his house, you were shocked. You were just trying to help him. You put aside the feelings you two had towards each other because he was sick. Even sick Jungwon is an asshole, you thought. That was when you made a mental note to never be nice to this guy ever again. He didn't deserve it.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon waves his hand in front of yours, forcing you out of your daydream.

You shake your head, “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

Sunghoon stares at you for quite a while without saying anything, letting you scan his features freely. His dark hair extends at the back of his neck, kind of like a mullet, and it suits him a lot. His eyebrows are sharp, and you inwardly frown at how they look better taken care of than yours. His eyes aren’t anything special, but they’re looking at you intently right now; they look heavy, like he has a lot to say. Sunghoon’s lips, however, God you could stare at them forever. They’re so pink and plumpy, he’s definitely a good kisser.

“Are you staring at my lips right now?” Your eyes snap back to Sunghoon’s eyes in horror that he caught you. He laughs at your reaction, so you follow, covering your mouth with a hand. “So what’s the deal with you and Jungwon?” He asks after the two of you have calmed down.

You shrug, wanting to avoid his question since you already ask yourself that every single day. “Nothing, really.”

“So, you just argue for fun? Masochism, I like it.” He chuckles, and you dart your eyes at him. “No, no I’m just saying, if you can’t even tell me why you two argue, what’s the point of doing it?”

It’s a genuine question. It’s a question Yuna has asked you, your teachers have asked you, the other girls in your friend group have asked you, your parents have asked you, but most importantly one that you’ve asked yourself countless times. And you’re annoyed because the answer is there is no answer. You don’t ever remember doing anything to offend Jungwon when he first moved into your neighbourhood or your school. You just remember him being a little shit, thinking he could walk all over and bully you. But your dad brought you up differently, to stand up for yourself. That’s why Jungwon’s always on offence, and you always seem to be on the defence.

“I never start anything,” you look at Sunghoon, and you find it heartwarming how he’s listening so intently, “He’s always the one that approaches me, so I just bite back. If I never did, I would be crushed by now.” You explain, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve.

“So Jungwon’s a bully?” Sunghoon asks, and your body suddenly feels tons heavier. You hate that word, it just doesn’t sound right.

“No, not a bully.”

“Sounds like it.” Sunghoon shrugs. “He’s mean to you so you’re mean back. Except it’s been going on for years.”

You get up from the desk and sit on another, feeling a little uncomfortable with this situation. “Um, I guess? It doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just becoming repetitive at this point. Today’s the first day he didn’t say something stupid. It was relieving, you know.” You explain, a smile unconsciously growing on your lips.

“Don’t worry,” Sunghoon comes over, his wide chest blocking your field of vision, “now that you’ve got me around, he won’t bother you as much.”

Dear diary,

I had fun today.

It’s only half way through your diary entry that you notice you didn’t start it off with the infamous “I hate Jungwon.” Actually, reading the entry made you realise how little you even saw him today. The only time you spoke to him was when you were with Sunghoon. How long has it been since the two of you didn’t have a petty argument? You find yourself smiling down at your diary, a wave of relief washing over your body at the thought of Sunghoon being your first step to freedom.

You also find yourself smiling when you started scribbling down how fun your chemistry club was today. You and Sunghoon barely even finished a question, the two of you talking and laughing the entire time. He even promised that if he was ever free, he’d give you occasional free tutoring for chemistry. Life would be so much easier if Jungwon was more like Sunghoon, wouldn’t it?

Somebody should have warned you that your happiness is short lived, because while you were giving Yuna a detailed update of everything to do with Sunghoon, Jungwon’s voice echoed behind you. You promise yourself that one day, you need to creep up behind him and his friends and cut them off because this was really starting to piss you off.

You and Yuna turn around, both you offering him the exact same defeated look.

“That Sunghoon guy,” Jungwon starts, taking slow steps towards you. “Since when did you two get close?”

Yuna scoffs loudly, putting a hand on her hip. “Why? You jealous, Yang?” Yeah, as if he would be. He’s probably jealous of you, seeing that tension between them yesterday.

Jungwon laughs sarcastically before turning back to you so fast you had to flinch your head backwards. He was a little too close for your liking so you stepped back. “Yeah, you wish. No, I’m just asking because he’s an asshole, and I don’t want to have to talk to him every time I wanna annoy you.”

You push his shoulder away from you and laugh in disbelief. “Well, why don’t you just stop trying to annoy me then, huh?” You could tell what you said threw Jungwon off guard a little by the way he twitched his brows. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him take a second to come up with something to say, usually it’s second nature to him. You smirked, thanking God for giving you the upper hand today. “Aww, are you insecure, Jungwon? Does Sunghoon make you insecure?” You ask in that irritating baby voice he always uses on you. “Are you jealous because you’ll never have hair as good as his? Or because you’ll never be as good looking as him? Are you sad that–”

“Y/N, I’m not the one that attracts the opposite sex through pity.”

That shuts you up completely, and your confidence withers to bits. He’s got that same disgusted look on his face as that day you went to visit him. It’s not like he’s never said something as harsh as that before, so you’re not really sure why this is affecting you so much. As embarrassing as it is to admit, that really hurt.

“First, he has to witness how horrible you are at chemistry. Then he saw you speaking to me, and probably felt bad for you. And let’s not even mention your looks.” Jungwon continues, peeling off every layer you’ve been forced to wrap around yourself ever since you met him. Slowly, he’s stripping away your pride, your dignity, and even your self esteem. “You think I’m jealous of a guy that sleeps around so much he probably has STDs? I think our fighting has made you forget that I also get girls, Y/N. I just don’t flout them for attention like he does.”

“Let’s go,” Yuna whispers, tugging on your sleeve. Your eyes are on the ground, unable to meet Jungwon’s. You’ve never felt so insignificant and helpless in front of him before, your body is unable to catch up with all these new emotions. “Come on, Y/N.”

The two of you are walking down the hallway, making your way to the bathroom. Tears are pooling in your eyes, something Jungwon has never managed to make happen. You feel so stupid, so stupid for letting him break you after all these years. All these years you wasted arguing with him almost every single day of your life. For what? What did either of you get out of it? You’ve never even stopped for a second to consider the words that you two were saying to each other, how much you were hurting each other. Well, you doubt you’ve ever really hurt Jungwon. He’s probably jumping up and down right now, cheering at the thought of finally winning. You just hope this means that it’s all over. You’re exhausted.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice appears just as you’re about to follow Yuna into the bathroom.

You feel your breath grow heavier at the sound of his voice, humiliation rippling throughout your body. Maybe that’s why this affected you so much. Maybe it’s because Jungwon was calling you an idiot for thinking Sunghoon liked you. Because apparently he’s just another popular boy. And because apparently, he's just been fooling you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurriedly, he walks up to you and places a hand atop your head, his doe eyes boring right into yours. You want to push him away so hard and tell him to go find another girl to play with, but all you can do is stare back at him. “Look, come here.” He pulls you away from the safe space of the female bathroom and right into the disabled ones.

You don’t know why, but as soon as Sunghoon locks the door, your tears start falling against your will. On instinct, you turn away and bring a hand to stop yourself from sobbing audibly. If what Jungwon said is true, you cannot let Sunghoon see you crying. You’ve read enough romance books to know that bad boys love it when a girl is vulnerable. But Sunghoon doesn’t speak; you’re not even sure he moves. The room is silent, albeit your quick breaths and occasional sobs. At this point, you’re just letting your body move on its own. Your mum always tells you it’s best to cry it out, to let your emotions ride out their course. So you decide to stay there and continue to cry into your already soaked hands.

Once you’re done wiping away your cheeks and rubbing your eyes, you make your way to the mirror to see what you look like. If Sunghoon wasn’t in the room you would have cried all over again just from seeing your reflection. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

Sunghoon giggles, and lifts himself up from leaning against the door to come stand behind you. Gently, he brushes away strands of your hair from your face and fixes your collar for you. “I think,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “you look just fine.”

Dear diary,

Unfortunately, I still hate Jungwon.

“No, why are you starting it like that again?” Yuna huffs beside you, probably disappointed at your relapse. It’s been a week since Jungwon made you cry, and it’s been a calm week, too. You never told Sunghoon what happened, but he’s been staying by your side at school since. He likes to call himself your personal bullmastiff, and that he scares away Jungwon who’s only a sheep. Although you’re still terrified that what Jungwon said about Sunghoon being a manwhore is true, there’s still a part of you that hopes it isn’t. You’re hoping he isn’t just hanging around to get in your pants.

“Because I’m mad, Yuna. If we’re really ending this, I can’t be the only one that’s upset about it. I need to think of one final thing to get back at him. Something that will really hurt him.” You explain, really disappointed in how much you’ve been lacking this school year. You haven’t gotten him back once, and it’s frustrating you.

“Hm, what about his motorbike?” Yuna asks, an evil glint to her eyes.

“No.” You shake your head. “No way. I would love to, believe me–”

“So why not?”

“Because his parents would kill me!”

“Oh come on, that bike costs to them what a piece of gum costs to us, Y/N.”

“No, I heard him tell his friend. You know that pervert, Heeseung? Yeah, they were talking about it and Jungwon was saying that it’s from a limited series and that his parents had to fly out to Thailand to bid for it.” You whisper, for some reason you don’t really know. “Thailand, Yuna.”

“Okay, why don’t we wear masks? We can get Sunghoon to help us, too. You know, like them ski masks.” Yuna motions the mask with her hands, a persuasive look on her face. You’re tempted to, you really are. The thought of taking the only thing that Jungwon seems to have human feelings for away from him is very tempting.

“But wait, he wouldn’t know it’s me.”

“Uh, Y/N, that’s a good thing? If he knows it’s you, you’d be sued.”

“Oh, yeah, true.”

“We can enjoy our victory from afar, okay?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Okay.”

This may be the worst idea you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.

Here you are, standing in between Sunghoon (who Yuna had to convince for hours to come along) and Yuna. The three of you are wearing your ski masks, but Sunghoon is too much of a cheapskate to buy a new one so he’s wearing his dad’s bright blue mask and making the three of you look stupid.

“Okay, on the count of three–”

“No wait!” Sunghoon’s voice squeaks as he whisper-shouts.

You and Yuna whip your heads into his direction, stunned at his voice crack. “Sunghoon, you’re the only guy here!” You whisper-shout back. “You can’t be the scared one.”

“I have never broken the law before, if I get caught doing this my parents are going to kill me, Y/N.” He panics, yet neither of you can take him seriously with his idiotic mask on.

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure you broke about five laws driving us here in your mum’s car.” You snap, before looking at Yuna. “But maybe he’s r–”

“No, guys it’s now or never.” Yuna whispers, before tugging on both yours and Sunghoon’s sleeves, running ahead. Your veins are booming so loud you’re worried someone will be able to hear it. Arriving at the tail of the motorcycle, you raise a trembling finger to touch it. You gasp when you do, already mentally hearing the sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.

Yuna pulls out a hairpin and shoves it into the keyhole of the motorcycle while you and Sunghoon crouch and cower behind her, failing to keep a proper look out. This feels so wrong, but it’s too late to go back now. Sunghoon’s stupid mask is probably plastered all over the CCTVs already. You’ll probably need a miracle to not get yourself landed in prison.

Yuna whimpers as she struggles to switch on the engine. You’re starting to panic even more now, the thought of this all going horribly wrong circling your mind repeatedly. “It’s not working!” She yells, and you and Sunghoon look at each other with wide eyes.

“Go help her!” You motion at him, your heart drumming louder than it ever has before.

“What do you mean go help her, why don’t you go help her?!” Sunghoon doesn't budge and only tightens his hold on the tail of the motorcycle.

“No, I’m keeping look out!”

“No you’re not, you’re looking at me!”

“Will you two shut up and come help me?!” Yuna screams, and you shoot up to go over and help her. It’s useless, though. No matter how much the two of you twist and turn the hairpin, the engine doesn’t turn on. “Why isn’t it working? We practised this like a thousand times!”

“I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a limited edition?!” You scream back, the plan blowing up in your face.

“Fuck!” Yuna slams the head of the bike in anger as you start to lose control of your breaths. “I think I’ve broken the keyhole.”

You groan loudly, closing your eyes to think of a way to fix this. Trying so hard to calm yourself down, you attempt to come up with another plan. It’s either that or the three of you need to escape—now

But as always, Jungwon’s voice interrupts you. His timing is probably his only positive attribute.

“Hey!” He barks at the other end of the road, making you and Yuna look at each other like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s running as fast as he can, so much so you can see his forehead shining under the street lights.

“Let’s ditch the bike!”

“No! We can’t let this all be for nothing!”

“Out of the way ladies!” Sunghoon’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you turn to see him standing over the bike with a large pole in his hands. Oh, my God. Instinctively, you and Yuna jump off the bike and run behind Sunghoon to watch him do his dirty work.

You poke out your head, trying to catch your breath and a glimpse of Jungwon. “He’s close, hurry up!”

“No!” Jungwon screams, reaching his arms out, dread written all over his little baby face. “Stop, please!”

Sunghoon ignores him and draws back the pole before slamming it against the metal of the motorcycle. He hits it again and again, parts flying all over the place each time. He yells at every impact, like he was beating up a person.

Jungwon arrives, and you can't help but notice his breaths are shaky and the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He pulls Sunghoon away from you and punches him right in the jaw, a roar ripping right from the bottom of his lungs. The light sensors of the neighbouring houses switch on, and some neighbours even come out to take a peek. With the rush of the scene flowing through your veins, and the fear that all of this is for nothing, you pick up the pole that fell out of Sunghoon’s hands and hit the bike yourself. Hearing Jungwon beg like that so helplessly for the first time in your life only fuels your anger even more. Each whack, each hit, your mind flashes back to the times Jungwon hurt you, the times Jungwon forced you to build another wall.

“What’s the point of going to the school dance? It’s not like anybody wants to go with you, anyway.” Whoops, there goes the headlight.

“Oh, my God, you might as well go home if you’re going to be dressed like that the entire trip. Stop embarrassing us.” Oh no, the brake is broken.

“You failed chemistry again? Look, guys, she got 10%! What a loser!” Aw man, now the gas tank is leaking.

Before you can damage the bike anymore, Yuna pulls you back into reality. She’s yelling something at you, but your eyes can’t help but focus on Jungwon struggling against Sunghoon’s hold.

“Please! No, please stop! I’ll give you anything you want, just get away from my bike!”

He’s crying.

Your surroundings suddenly blur as Yuna pulls you towards the car you guys came in. She shoves you in while telling you something but you can’t shift your attention from Jungwon who’s now given up and is laying still on the floor. He isn’t even fighting Sunghoon anymore. He’s just still, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes as his tears roll off his cheeks and fall onto the floor.

You made Jungwon cry. You made Yang Jungwon cry.

You're ashamed. You can't even step outside your house without making sure your hood is well over your head, hiding your face for anyone to see. There's no way anyone in the neighbourhood could know that it was you, right? You were completely covered; it could have been any two girls and a guy who smashed Jungwon's precious bike and brought him to tears.

Literal freaking tears.

In all the years you two have fought, Jungwon only ever smiles. He grins, or laughs that really annoying laugh where he throws his head back and stamps his feet on the floor. He pretends to be upset by putting a hand on his heart and squeezing his eyes shut, letting out an exaggerated gasp. He pretends to be mad by putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head so far sideways his hair looks like it's about to fall off. Jungwon is expressive, he enjoys winding you up by acting out his emotions—real or fake—dramatically. You've always hated it, but now you're praying that you're going to meet him on your way to school and he'll pretend to whine about how much you hurt him last night.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, waiting at the end of the road for Jungwon to appear. You're not really sure why. What are you even going to say if you see him? You can't even apologise for what you've done, his parents would definitely put you behind bars. The wait is killing you, impatience stirring in your stomach at an outrageous speed. Gulping, you contemplate whether you should go knock on his door or not. Maybe he's oversleeping because he's tired from last night. Maybe if you knock, he'll wake up and nag at you for babying him like he did before.

Without really thinking, you head straight to his front door step with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Breathing in, you press the doorbell. His house is huge, and the noise the doorbell makes almost frightens you out of your skin. The loud ring echoes in your mind loudly as you tap your foot on the ground and keep your eyes locked onto the door. You press it again. And again. And again.

And then you wait.

But Jungwon never comes out. Nobody does. Not him, his sister or his parents. You're even hoping some sort of maid will come and open the door. But nobody does. You're trying not to overthink the situation: maybe he's just being a teenage boy and angry that his bike is broken so he's decided to skip school today.

The thought calms you down a little bit, so you turn around to leave. While turning back to the entrance, something shiny catches your eye around the corner of Jungwon's front yard. Curious, you scuttle towards it and poke your head around to see what it is. Your heart drops when you do. There it is. Jungwon's motorcycle that you smashed to pieces last night. Laying next to it, is an open box of tools, an unfinished cup of coffee, and Jungwon's jacket that he always wears under his blazer. The guilt at the pit of your stomach spreads around your body, squeezing your heart and scraping at your throat. Did he really stay up all night trying to fix it all by himself?

Did you go too far?

"Come on, you're being weird." Sunghoon crosses his arms, not shifting his gaze away from you.

Usually, you appreciate his attentiveness because it makes you feel special and gets you all shy, but today it isn’t doing you any good. You chuckle breathlessly and pull the sheet of paper towards you. "So I just need to calculate the mass of this mole, right? Using this equation?"

Sunghoon sighs, "Y/N, you know you can tell me what's wrong, right?"

You look up to meet his heavy gaze, his face already so close to yours. "No? Just because you chose to follow me around at school doesn't mean we're best friends, Sunghoon. It doesn't mean I can pour my heart out to you."

His expression doesn't falter, a blank look sitting on his face. "Then what are we?"

You pause, not really knowing how to answer that question. You're aware that he gives you butterflies, and that you find him attractive. But what about what Jungwon said about him sleeping around? Hasn't Sunghoon stayed around long enough for it to be more than that? Or is that all you guys are - good friends? But then why would Sunghoon ask that question?

Confused and already emotionally drained from your crime yesterday, you scrunch up the question sheet in your hand and get up from your chair. Without saying a word to Sunghoon, you leave.

At home, you’re lying on your couch, flicking through the channels on the television. Nothing is exciting you since you can’t seem to pay attention to anything. There are only two things on your mind right now. Jungwon and Sunghoon.

As for Jungwon, you can’t stop picturing him in that little alleyway beside his house—sweating away, hurting himself trying to fix his motorcycle. He’s probably not eaten any real food in awhile, desperate to get it back to how it was before you and Yuna came up with that stupid plan. You groan into your hands, thinking about how you never thought you’d live to see the day you’d feel bad for Jungwon. Doesn’t he deserve this? Why does this bike mean so much to him? He can just fly out to Thailand and buy another one, right?

Then your thoughts suddenly shift to Sunghoon. If he really is the manwhore Jungwon pinned him out to be, how come he’s been nothing but supportive since you and Jungwon stopped talking to each other? There are no girls, you can’t see them. The only way it would be possible is if he has this whole other life outside of school. The partying, drinking and sex type of life. He said he’s never broken the law before, but he seemed pretty confident driving his mum’s car with one hand on the wheel and another on the radio. Do you even know Sunghoon? Sure, he’s a science nerd and likes to ice skate. But what else is there to him?

You sigh when the sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts. It’s 10pm, who could possibly be ringing at this time of night? Groggily, you get up, fixing your bun so you look a bit more appropriate for whoever it is that’s ruining your free time. Peering through the peephole, you’re only met with a man in a black hood who’s purposefully hiding his face from the door. A little worried, you call your mum over. “Mum! There’s a creepy man at the door!”

She hops out of the kitchen with a meat knife in one hand, a frying pan in the other and a terrified look on her face. “You take the knife,” she whispers, “and hide behind me while I hold the pan and see what this guy wants.”

“Wait, why am I holding the knife?” You point at yourself, your mum’s behaviour starting to affect you, too.

The doorbell rings again and you both flinch. “Because if he sees the knife in my hand he might attack. So you hide behind me, okay? I’m just going to open the door like an inch wide, don’t worry.” Her eyes are wide while she tries to convince you to follow through with her not-well-thought out plan.

You do anyway. “Okay.”

You take the knife from your mum before the two of you sneak towards the door. Hesitantly, she opens it, and the thought of her life being taken right before you flashes in your mind for a second. Right before she lets out a relieved laughter, a hand on her chest. “It’s just the Yangs’ kid, Y/N. Don’t scare me like that again.”

Jungwon? What the hell is he doing here? You poke your head out from beside her and see Jungwon looking down at his feet that are awkwardly kicking the floor. “I didn’t know it was him, sorry.” You mutter, furrowing your brows at him.

“I am so sorry, Jungwon. Is there something you need?” Your mum asks, widening the door. When he looks up, you can’t help but cringe. His eye bags are heavy, and his lips are so chapped they’re peeling. Not to mention how red and sore his eyes are, he’s struggling to even keep them open. He’s worse than the time you went to give him the tray of food. You don’t even realise that you two are staring at each other silently until your mum speaks up again. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes quickly divert to your mum’s and he clears his throat aggressively. “No, uh, I just wanted to know if your husband is here.”

Your mum shakes her head, “No, he’s visiting his brother right now. He won’t be back for a few days.”

“Can you call him?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungwon speak so meekly before. It’s odd, and the thought that you may have broken him makes your toes curl.

“Yes, yes, what do you want me to say?”

“How to fix a motorcycle brake. I remember that he had one a few years ago, so I thought he’d know.”

“Oh! Was it your motorbike that got smashed by those teenagers?” Jungwon nods, his eyes falling to the ground again. “Ms Jung showed me her CCTV cameras and how horrible those kids were. Their parents really need to sort them out.” She tuts, pulling out her phone.

Even your mum is disgusted by your behaviour last night. Of course she is, what you did was way out of line. You play with your fingers as the guilt travels further, making you a lot more jittery than usual. “My dad’s break broke once and he showed me how to fix it. I can, uh, help if you want.” It’s the least you can do, an easy repair, indirectly apologise, and throw away this stupid guilt so you can focus on getting your school life back on track. Maybe after you help him fix his bike, the two of you can finally be even and put your pettiness in the past once and for all.

Jungwon only looks you in the eyes, not saying anything. They remind you of Sunghoons’; loud and heavy.

“Oh, okay, that’s perfect. You go and help him. I’ll bring some snacks later.” Your mum pushes you out of the house, and you curse her for doing so when all you’re wearing is a hoodie, a pair of cycling shorts, and slippers. “Bye!” She waves, shutting the door in your face before you can even speak.

Well, this is awkward. Turning around, you try to put on a smile to Jungwon, but his eyes flicker straight from your eyes to your mouth before he storms back to his house. You follow him with a huff, realising that this is going to be a long hour. Catching up to him, you throw your hood over your head and stuff your hands in your pockets to try and stay warm. “So,” you start, trying to get straight to the point, “if we’re lucky, all you’ll need to do is clean the pistons. You know, those little metal things that open and close w-”

“I know what a piston is.” He grumbles, opening his gate. “I would have done that if that girl didn’t smash it off my bike.”

Your eyes lower as he unknowingly mentions you, and try to shake off the feeling of guilt again. You never would have guessed this would have hurt him this much. But then again, isn’t that what you wanted? “Oh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “well then this is gonna take a long time.”

The two of you arrive at the corner, and that’s when you notice there are three more cups of coffee lying next to the bike. You purse your lips, trying to throw away the imagination of him desperately attempting to stay awake, pushing his body well past its limits all in order to fix what you broke.

“Okayyy,” you whisper, copying Jungwon by getting on your knees, followed by a hiss once you feel the cold rocky ground. Clearing your throat, you turn to him, who still has an emotionless look on his face. You really wish he would do something right now. You wouldn’t even mind it if he made fun of you. Staring at him like this, like an empty shell, is too much to bear. “So, where’s the brake?” You put out your hand, and Jungwon complies by giving it to you. Observing it, you’re relieved that it hasn’t been damaged too much, and that it’s okay to put it back on the bike. “First, we need to take the callipers off the bike.” You don’t explain what it is this time, since he got agitated when you did it before. “Should I do one side and you do the other?”

He nods, so you crawl over to the other side, and together, the two of you start working on the bike.

After around twenty minutes of silent working, you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since the second you saw him cry. “Jungwon?” You ask. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he hears you. “Why don’t you just get your parents to buy you another one?”

It takes him a while to reply, you assume he’s just busy with the clamps. “They can’t. There’s no more on sale.”

You’re aware that it sounds a bit harsh, but you still push. “Can’t they just buy another brand?”

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours through the tiny gaps between the motorcycle parts. “I don’t want another one.”

You sigh at his vague responses. “Okay, what about hiring someone to come and fix your bike? Or getting a friend, literally anyone-”

Abruptly, Jungwon throws the clamp onto the floor, the ring of the metal bouncing around your skull. “I didn’t ask you to come and help, you know? You offered. If you don’t want to, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving.” He spits, his eyes piercing into yours angrily.

You put your hands up in a feign defence. “I’m sorry, I was just asking.” You mutter under your breath, a little shocked at his reaction. “I’m okay with fixing the bike, it just looked like you didn’t wanna ask so I was telling you there are other options.”

Jungwon sighs, before picking up the clamp and getting back to work. “I know.” He mumbles, and you can hear the piston creaking under the pressure of his clamp hold. “I know there are other options, but I don’t trust any of them with this bike. I’ve known your dad for a while and I remember how much he cared about his bike, so I thought I’d just ask him to help.” The thought of Jungwon trusting your dad over his creepy friends makes you feel a lot better, but the sound of the piston about to snap distracts you.

Crawling back over, you return to Jungwon’s side. You don’t even notice that your thighs are touching each other when you reach out to take the clamp from his hands. He looks at you a little alarmed, but you respond with an awkward smile. “You’re putting too much pressure. You have to unstick one piston at a time, if you do it like that it’ll snap.” You explain, opting to do it yourself to save some time.

“How come you know how to fix a break?” He asks randomly, startling you a little bit.

You stay focused while you answer him, your eyes not moving from the clamp. “Sometimes my dad teaches me things like this. He says he does it because he doesn’t have a son.”

“What other things has he taught you?”

Since this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jungwon, you decide not to question why he cares about your relationship with your dad so much. “How to ride a bike, how to play football, how to put up a shelf, how to fix a laptop that’s had water spilled on it.” You giggle at the last one, memories piling into your head. Jungwon doesn’t say anything else so you turn around to see why. He’s just staring at your hands working with the clamp, so you choose to fill in the tense silence. “The time he broke his break, he called me over while I was studying. I told him that it’s not important since a motorcycle break and a bike break are two completely different things and that this would never come in handy.” You face Jungwon again, and his eyes meet yours. “Turns out it did come in handy.”

There’s a moment, a long moment of comfortable silence with the two of you staring at each other. For the first time, you notice the shape of his eyes and how delicately pulled out they are. They’re kind of pretty, in a boyish sort of way. You can’t really believe you’ve been staring at these eyes for the past eight years without ever finding yourself swimming in them until now.

Jungwon scoffs, breaking eye contact before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn out heavy handed since you were basically brought up as a boy,” he mutters against the cup.

With that, you unconsciously suck in such a deep breath of air. A wave of relief washes over your body as you let out an incredibly loud laugh at his comment. There he is, the asshole that is Yang Jungwon. You seriously thought you broke him, but hearing him say something so rude wiped away any and all of your doubt.

He’s back. And you couldn’t be more than happy about it.

Walking into school the next day, you’re a little bit anxious. You’re anxious because:

You might bump into Sunghoon and he might start asking scary questions again

You might bump into Jungwon and have to start fighting again

You don’t want either of those scenarios to happen. So when Sunghoon spots you and says goodbye to his friends, you panic and pull onto your friend’s sleeve. “Quick, pretend we’re having a really serious and private conversation.”

She panics and tries to think of something to say. “Uh, I made out with Sunghoon at Ryujin’s party!” With her eyes shut, in front of everyone in the hallway, your friend, Chaeryeong, admitted to sleeping with Sunghoon. You spot him from the corner of your eye, freezing once he heard what Chaeyoung said, and you wait for him to come over and ask why you two are making up shit about him. He doesn’t.

“Are you being serious right now? I said pretend, Chaeryeong.” Your hand slips away from hers as you look at her in pure disbelief.

“I’m sorry, it’s been on my mind a lot recently because he’s been hanging out with you so much. So when you said say something serious, that was the first thing I could think of.” She rushes, clearly panicked by your response.

“Wait,” you take a step closer to whisper, “When was this? Recently?”

She gives you a worried look, before turning around to see Sunghoon and then turning back to you. “Last, uh, Saturday?”

Saturday. Last Saturday. That was only four days ago. Four days ago you were FaceTiming him while he was helping you with your physics homework. Four days ago was when you asked if he could help you finally get over the Jungwon situation, and he told you that he really wanted to help because he couldn’t stand to see you so hurt. Four days ago was when you told Yuna you think you have a crush on him.

Stepping away, you give one last glance at Sunghoon. “I can't believe you,” you mutter, before turning around and storming away. You tell yourself the reason why you didn’t go up to him and scream in his face is because of the attention you would have gained, but it isn’t; you’re too scared to face him because you were already warned about him ages ago. As funny as it sounds, you should have listened to Jungwon.

“What?! Chaeryeong? Our Chaeryeong?” Yuna chokes on her water, surprised.

“Yeah,” you sigh, scribbling away in your notebook. “I’m not really bothered about that, I mean she can sleep with whoever she wants. It’s just, I really thought there was something between me and Sunghoon.”

Yuna kisses her teeth before shaking her head. “Even I thought there was. Why is he always with you if he’s sleeping with other girls?” Her body simultaneously shivers with yours. “That’s just gross.”

“Maybe he just sees me as a friend. You know in those romance books where the hot guy who gets all the girls appreciates the girl who doesn’t wanna have sex with him and likes hanging around with her?”

“Y/N, they always end up falling in love.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not happening, is it?” You slouch in your seat.

Jungwon walks into the room, and you smile at Yuna, happy to know that he’s back on his feet. You wait for him to say the same thing he always does when he walks past you to get to his seat. Anxiously, your foot taps on the ground as you nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes not moving from Jungwon’s.

Yuna taps you and leans in to whisper, “You can see it now, right?” Her eyebrows giggle, a huge smirk on her lips.

You cringe at what she said, refusing to let her silly thoughts get to your head. “Shut up,” you mutter, before turning back to see Jungwon talking to another classmate. You hate to admit it, but your eyes do linger on him a little longer. You can’t help but notice the long, dark strands of hair that almost cover his eyes. His nose and jawline are sharp, contrary to his soft and small lips. Your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple as he speaks, and you watch as it bobs up and down attentively. It’s strange that you’ve known Jungwon for so long, yet you’ve never actually taken the time out of your day to really look at him. Because he’s actually really good looking.

“See?” Yuna giggles, slapping your arm playfully. “You’re staring.”

Your head darts to her direction with wide eyes. “I’m just waiting for him to come over.”

“Nu-uh, you’re finally listening to me. I told you he gets girls.” She motions for you to lean in closer while she whispers. “Last year, I peeked into his locker on Valentine’s Day, and I counted thirteen letters, Y/N. Thir-teen.”

Thirteen girls gave Jungwon a love letter last year? You scoff, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him again. If they knew what you knew, that Jungwon is a total asshole, you bet they’d run far away from him. “I don’t get it. Is it just because of his looks? Are they that shallow?”

Yuna shrugs from beside you. “Well, I’ve heard a lot of good things about him.”

You laugh sarcastically, “Are you gonna talk about the time he helped that one new student when she dropped her books on the floor again?”

“Well, there’s that. But there are other things, too, that I’ve tried to tell you but you just turn down because you hate him so much. Like the time he stopped a boy from getting bullied. It was so cool, Y/N, he just shoved the bully in his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes and told him to fuck off.”

Something twists in your stomach at that word. It reminds you of when Sunghoon asked if

Jungwon is just a bully. You can’t be staring at him now, talking about all the good deeds he’s done and why all the girls in your school have a crush on him. He’s mean. He’s insulted you, belittled you, degraded you. You could go on and on about all the times Jungwon has hurt you and laughed in your face whenever he did. He’s a selfish, spoiled rich kid that derives entertainment from picking on you. And like all your friends warn you not to do, you react, dragging it out longer. Maybe if you just stayed silent in the first place, this would have never continued for so long.

Blinking, you suddenly realise that Jungwon is batting his eyes at you right in front of your face. You gasp, furrowing your eyes and jerking back once you realise how close his face is to yours. Shit, you spaced out and he caught you staring.

“What you staring at, number 23?” He asks, his old grin back on his face.

“Number 23?”

“Class ranks are up on the board.” He explains, and your heart drops to your feet when you realise what he’s saying. “You know,” Jungwon gets up, hands in his pockets as he peers down at you with that familiar evil glint in his eyes. “I thought signing you up for chemistry club would at least get you into the teens. But you only moved up one spot? One?”

Okay, you may have wanted normal Jungwon back, but did his first strike have to be so harsh? Getting up, you realise your legs are trembling. Something inside of you is telling you not to bite back this time, that it’s not worth it. If you truly want this war to end, then you have to be the bigger person and back down. Pursing your lips, you simply walk past him to follow the crowd of students into the hallway to see the class rankings.

“Oh. My. God, Y/N. You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuna laughs, but you can’t join her. It was embarrassing to let him talk down to you like that. You wish you said something, but this needs to end. This is the first step you need to take.

“Let’s just focus on our class rankings for now.” You say, approaching the wall.

Although Jungwon made fun of your rank, you have to hide a smile when you see it. It’s not high at all, but at least you’ve improved. With everything that’s been going on recently, you need something positive to cling onto. You pull out your phone to call your mum about your improvement, excited to hear about how proud she’ll be.

But a voice from behind stops you. You can feel the heat of his body so close to yours, and your heart immediately starts doing backflips. “23rd? That means I’m going to have to spend a lot more time tutoring you, right?” His voice is uplifted, and that pisses you off even more.

Turning around, you furrow your brows and fold your arms. “Really? Are you just going to pretend that–”

Sunghoon, with his hands buried in his pockets and his lips pursed, shrugs. “I asked you what we are, and you just left.”

That is very true. You did, quite rudely, leave. You erased that part of your day from your mind, and even avoided writing it down in your diary. All you needed was time, because the following week was when you and Yuna figured out what your feelings are towards him. Sighing, you answer. “I know.”

“I helped you break–” he pulls on your blazer to drag the two of you away from the crowd as he leans in to whisper, “I helped you break Jungwon's bike. I know you think that that's a normal thing for a guy like me, but it isn't. I don't go around, smashing people's things, you know. I did that for you, and all I got was a little thank you text.”

Everything he's saying is true, and that's frustrating you further.

“You can't be mad about who I sleep with, Y/N. I've been hovering around for so long, and still, the only guy you think of is Jungwon.”

“What are you even hanging around for, though? Jungwon he-he told me that you treat girls like trophies. I thought–” The eye contact Sunghoon holds with you is intense, he doesn't turn away once. You're too scared to break it because you've never seen him this serious before.

“So you believed him over me? Someone that you ‘hate’ over a friend? You didn't even bring that up with me, Y/N!" He whisper-shouts, pressing an arm against the lockers beside him so that he can lower his head to meet yours. “You need to ask yourself what's your deal with Jungwon, because I'm not sure you really know what it is.” Gently, he lets go of your blazer and dusts it down with his hands, causing you to blush intensely.

“You're gonna keep me up all night because of this, now, you know that, right?” You chuckle sarcastically, keeping your eyes on his hand that's lingering above yours.

He chuckles back, “I know.” His hand stops hovering, and goes back to his pocket.

Looking up at him, you smile endearingly. “We can still be friends, right? Even if whatever this is doesn't sort out the way we want it to, you'll still be my friend.”

"Ayyyyy,” Sunghoon laughs, but it seems forced, and presses a finger into your shoulder. “You're just saying that for the free tutoring lessons.”

Dear diary,

I hate Jungwon.

You groan into your arms after you realise what you've just written, disappointed in yourself. It's embarrassing to admit that Sunghoon is right, that Jungwon is constantly on your mind. If it's not the awful things he's said, or the stupid pranks he's played, then it's the way he puckers his lips together when he snorts out a laugh, or the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you to try and piss you off. You've probably never even scratched the surface of Jungwon's mind, yet he somehow lives in yours constantly.

A ping from your phone distracts you from your thoughts.

jung_1: my tire popped

you: and?

jung_1: use your daddy skills to come and fix it

you: if u think u can jus tell me what to do ???? then you're vv wrong :/

jung_1: u came before what's wrong this time?

you: im busy

jung_1: so am i but i can't get anything done without my bike

you: u need to get it checked out professionally

ik u have some weird attachment issues to it but fixing the brakes and tires isn't enough to get that thing up and running again

jung_1: well, miss 23, unlike u i have a brain

fixing everything one at a time v slowly will work eventually

patience is key

so can u jus come already

you: what's in it for me?

jung_1: idk wtf

food?

you: do i look like a dog to u

jung_1: idk??? u name it ill get whatever u want

you: ok fine whatever

After you get dressed to go to Jungwon's house, you scribble one last thing into your diary before you go.

Let's hope that when I come back, I won't be saying that I hate him again.

With a bag of food from your mum to give to Jungwon's parents, you ring his doorbell hesitantly. You will never get over the difference between your house and his despite the fact that you two live just a few houses away from each other. While yours is small and cosy with a garden full of roses and apple trees, Jungwon's stands tall—so modern that it doesn't even have a front garden, it's all just rock hard concrete.

Opening the door you're met with a sour face when Jungwon looks you up and down. “What's that?” He asks, pointing at your carrier bag.

You inwardly sigh, reminding yourself of the trouble he's putting himself through because of you. “Homemade kimbap.” You hand it to him and he takes it cautiously, eyeing the bag like you hid a bomb in it. “Relax, my mum made it.”

Jungwon's head pops right up when you say that, and you swear his lips are trying their best not to pull up into a smile. Clearing his throat, however, he returns to his normal bitter expression and brushes his hair out of his gaze. “Whatever, come inside while I get dressed.”

It's only when Jungwon mentions it that you look down and notice that he’s only wearing a pair of underwear. Making a mental note to never visit a teenage boy's house unannounced again, you awkwardly hop inside and sit on the kitchen counter that he directs you to wait at.

While Jungwon is away, you're left with the housemaid. You've always guessed that they had one, yet you've never seen her leave the house before. Anyone could mistake this for slavery, how scary.

“Are you Jungwon's friend?” She asks, opening the bag of kimbap that you brought. You nod, deciding it's best not to explain your confusing and infuriating situation to Jungwon's housemaid, and she smiles endearingly, taking out the food. “I'm surprised. He's only ever brought those two hooligans over.”

“Jeongseong and Heeseung?” You ask, chuckling.

She laughs with you at the mention of Jungwon's awful friends who you are secretly afraid of. “They're like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, them two. It's nice to see that some of his friends are sane.” As soon as she unwraps and sees the food, however, the housemaid gasps, a repelled look on her face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Jungwon can't eat this, it isn't fresh.”

You open your mouth to explain that it had only just been cooked a few hours ago, but choose not to. This is Jungwon's rich and snobby lifestyle, there's no point arguing with someone who knows him a lot better than you do.

“What a waste,” she sighs, “I'll just have to throw it away.” You really want to yell at the woman for disrespecting your mother's food, but the thought of Jungwon's parents catching you screaming at their trusted maid through a secret camera and suing you scares you too much to do so.

But just before she's able to throw it away, Jungwon appears in a zipped up coat and joggers, an arm in front of the bin. “No, no, no, no, Mrs Kim, it's okay.” He says softly, a hand resting on her back as he smiles at her.

Smiles. Like, really smiles. He's acting so gentle around her it's scaring you. Lightly, he takes the dish from her hands and settles it on the middle counter opposite you. He doesn't look up, he just opens the tinfoil and lets his jaw drop slightly at the kimbap your mum forced you to roll for him. You'll never let him know that, though.

“Jungwon, it isn't fresh, you'll get sick.” Mrs Kim retorts, but he's already digging one out. You and Mrs Kim both silently watch Jungwon eat his food contently, and you hate to say it but he eats in such a cute way. His cheeks puff out and he takes such small nibbles of the food, like he's savouring it all.

“Your mum made this?” He asks, his eyes wide.

A little thrown off by him, you play with the strings of your jacket. “Uh, yeah. She just told me to bring this when I said I was coming over.” You answer awkwardly. He isn’t throwing any insults at you, and that’s something you still haven’t gotten used to.

He raises his brows while nodding, continuing to eat his food, leaving you and Mrs Kim standing beside each other in an odd silence. That is, until she leans in to whisper something to you. “He’s never eaten my kimbap so happily before, I wonder what your mum put in this one.” There’s a scowl on her face as bitterness lingers around her words.

You chuckle breathlessly, not really sure why Jungwon’s devouring your mum’s kimbap either. “It’s nothing special.”

Jungwon eyes the two of you before mumbling, “Stop staring.” and grabbing the rest of the food and making his way towards the door. You hesitantly scuttle behind him after giving Mrs Kim an undeserved bow. What a rude woman.

“How’d you pop it?” You ask, staring at the tire in horror as you realise the inner tube is punctured and this is going to be a very long job.

He chuckles, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck, “Uh, I left my glass out and when I was pushing the bike it kinda just rolled over it.”

Sighing, you give him a defeated expression, “Seriously? You just added to the list of things that I’ve already broken.”

“What?”

You have to stop your breath for a second in order to hide the look of down right fear on your face as you almost slipped the crime you committed. “List of things that need fixing, I mean.” You shake your head and tut, trying to act out feign annoyance. Slowly, you peer over to Jungwon to see if he’s caught on, and he’s just staring blankly. Clearing your throat, you decide changing the topic is your best option right now. “Uhm, do you have a puncture kit?”

Jungwon, after a very long staredown, eventually replies and hands over the kit to you. You have to thank the skies for not throwing you under the bus because that was way too close. Even your hands are shaking a little as you open the kit and get on your knees, the nerves making you very tense. You don’t even have the courage to start up a conversation, and so the two of you work in silence like you did the last time.

After about an hour in, Jungwon speaks up. “My parents bought this for me.”

Ignoring the way you jumped at the way his voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere, you scoff. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had to work a day in your life to earn enough money to buy this.”

The dark haired boy huffs, clearly vexed. “No, I mean, they actually bought it. Like it wasn’t just a written cheque, or money into my bank account, or bought online. They flew to Thailand with me to buy it.” He explains, and when you turn to him, his eyes are boring into yours.

“Okay, and?” You chuckle again, not really paying much mind to his words and focusing on your work instead. It’s just a bike, what is he trying to say that’s so important?

Abruptly, he brings his hand to his laps and flashes you an offended look. Worried that you’ve pressed the wrong buttons, you stop too, quietly letting him continue. “You asked why I only wanted your dad’s help. I’m answering you, okay?”

“Okay, I get it.”

“It’s- they don’t do that, they don’t go out with me for..me.” You still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but you nod anyway. “This bike, it’s the only reminder I have at this point that my parents love- not love, but, ugh, you know what I mean.” He rambles, playing with the strings of his tracksuit bottoms nervously.

Trying your very best to put the pieces together, you tilt your head and ask, “You don’t think your parents love you?”

“I mean, yeah,” he panics, “I’m sure they do, but they’re not like your parents, for example.”

“My parents?” Well, now you’re really lost.

Jungwon sighs, averting his gaze from you to the bike. “You know, like my dad never taught me the things yours did. My parents never dropped me off to school like yours did. My mum doesn’t even know how to cook..” He mumbles, his voice slowly drifting off with each sentence.

“Jungwon,” you furrow your brows, “Have you been..comparing your parents to mine all these years?” Now that you think about it, there have been many times where you would be talking to your parents, and from the corner of your eye you’d stop Jungwon staring. You’ve always brushed it off, not wanting to think about the boy any more than you needed to, but now you’re thinking that maybe you should have. It’s common knowledge that money doesn’t buy you happiness, and you and Yuna have always blamed Jungwon’s lavish lifestyle for his bitchiness. But loneliness? That’s something you’ve never associated with him.

Jungwon lets out a groan, before picking up a screwdriver again. “No.” He mutters under his breath, before turning his back to you completely.

Not wanting to prod at the situation any further, you hesitantly get back to work, too.

It’s been three hours since the two of you started working on the bike. Out of fear that Jungwon had caught on to what you said about you being the culprit, you tried helping him fix the other parts of the motorcycle, too. (Albeit your lack of knowledge of how to do so.) The alleyway has been silent for hours, the only noises were your uncomfortable giggles, shaky breaths and your nails tapping against anything they could find. Jungwon didn’t ask about your slip up, so you are hoping to God that he has no doubt about you because that would just be a one way ticket to jail.

You don’t even realise that it’s 8pm, dark, and absolutely freezing until you find yourself shivering and brushing up your hands against your bare arms. Jungwon probably hears your chattering teeth as he looks over and juts his chin out at you. “You cold?” He asks, expressionless.

You nod immediately, standing up to stretch your legs and shake them to circulate some warmth around you. The only light the two of you have is the spotlight above you and it’s wearing out a little, making it difficult to see. “Just a little.”

Jungwon eyes your outfit, “You should have brought a coat,” he mutters, before doing the absolute unexpected.

Slack-jawed, you watch Jungwon unzip his puffer coat and hand it to you like it was normal for him to do so. With furrowed brows, you stand still, trying to find the catch behind his actions. “What?” He grumbles. “You’d rather freeze?”

Crossing your arms, you laugh at him. Seeing your breath fog up in the air, you start to reconsider declining his offer. “The last time you offered me a coat, Jungwon, it was from a dumpster. Everyone laughed at me because I had no idea and I wore it the entire PE session.” You explained, hoping he’d catch on to your lack of trust in him.

“Well, this isn’t from a dumpster, so just take it.” His arm is still extended, but you can’t bring yourself to take it from him.

“Just because I’ve come over to help you a few times,” you glare at him, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends now. This isn’t enough for me to forget everything you’ve done to me, Jungwon.” Saying this out loud to him for the first time feels weird. Neither of you have ever confronted each other about your situation. It’s always been avoided.

Jungwon pulls his arm back towards him, before taking a few steps towards you. “I never said we’re friends, just take the fucking coat.” He curses aggressively, making you flinch a little.

But the two of you are fully aware that you won’t back down from anything without a fight. “I don’t want your coat, Jungwon. It’s bad enough that I’m here, fixing something that you have enough money to do yourself. I don’t need your stupid pity either.”

Chuckling in disbelief, Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoves the coat into your arms. “Again, all I asked was for you to fix the tire. You chose to stay longer. I told you last time that you’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t wanna be here!” He yells at you.

Jungwon has never shouted at you before. It’s always been snarky comments and childish insults. This is new, and you’re not really sure how to react to it.

“Fine! I will leave! I can’t believe I fucking rolled that kimbap for you myself because I was scared you hadn’t eaten anything.” You shout back, throwing his coat on the floor before storming to his gate. “You’re never going to change, are you?” You mumble, while trying to open his gate.

Suddenly, you feel Jungwon’s hand belligerently pull your shoulder back so you can face him as his fingers tightly grip around your upper arm. His face is merely inches away from yours, eyes piercing right through you like a new found anger has lit inside of him. “I’ve not changed? I literally just offered you my coat.”

“Oh, wow, you’re such a saint, Jungwon.” You seethe, despite the fear running through your blood at the intensity of his glare. “What about me? Huh? I helped you fix half of your bike, I put up with the shitty chemistry club stunt you pulled on me, I helped make your food-”

“And I am trying my best to return the favour!” He snaps again, letting go of your arm.

It’s not until then that you notice a delivery driver parked right outside of Jungwon’s house. Looking over at him, you notice the bags of food in his hands as he awkwardly smiles at the two of you. Your gaze shifts between Jungwon and the driver a few times. “You ordered this?” You ask, pointing at the man who's given up smiling and is now impatiently waiting for you both to collect your food. “For us?”

“I don't like burgers.” He spits, picking up his coat off the ground to pull out his wallet.

While Jungwon is apologising and paying the delivery driver, you stare at your feet in regret. That was way too stubborn of you. Jungwon really was just trying to be helpful by giving you his coat, but you were too prideful to take it. You thought you were better than this, you thought you were better than him. Maybe this issue has always been a two-sided conflict and you've just been too angry to see otherwise.

“Here,” he hands you the bag, and this time you take it reluctantly.

Pulling out the box to open it, you're met with a fresh little burger meal. It's not much. Hell, it's nothing at all since you're sure Jungwon can afford way more than this cheap rubbish. But it still warps a guilt around your body so twisted you feel too sick to eat the meal.

A gasp falls from your lips as soon as it hits you; as soon as the realisation of why the bike Jungwon adores so much hits you. He’s connected to it emotionally. It’s the only form of love he’s ever gotten. And you broke it. You can’t believe you broke something so precious to someone. The silence is thick. You can't bring yourself to look at him. There's only one thing running through your mind right now.

He deserves to know what you did.

Your chest feels heavy as Jungwon goes back to sitting on the ground and working on his bike. Agitation punches at your heart while its beats echoes around your head.

He needs to know what you did.

Biting your nails, you turn around to face him. He's been working so hard for days, and it's all because of you. You went too far, and he's paying the consequences—when it should be you. Clearing your throat, you waste no time telling him.

“I did it.”

Jungwon's hands stop moving, but his gaze remains on the motorcycle.

“I broke your..I broke your motorbike.” You say hurriedly before nibbling on your bottom lip. He still doesn't move. “It wasn't just me, but I did pretty much most of it.”

You wait for him to lash out and scream at you, to call the police and have you locked away for life. You wait for him to cry, or yell, or insult you. Anything. But instead he does nothing.

He just quietly says. “Get out.”

“Jungwon, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell–”

“I said get out.” His voice is low and empty.

“I–”

He cuts you off by darting his head towards your direction and glowering at you. So you decide to leave.

Dear diary,

I messed up. Big time.

With not enough energy in your system to write anymore in your diary due to the hours of homework you’ve just spent, you pull out your phone instead. Opening Instagram, you decide to aimlessly scroll through your friends’ stories.

First up is Ryujin—dolled up and singing into the camera with a few other girls you mildly recognise. There must be a party, you think. Swiping, you see a picture of Yeji and her boyfriend with red paper cups in their hands, smiling really cheesily. You chuckle at the photo, swiping up and replying to her story with “couple goals fr”. The next video on Yeji’s story, however, forces you to sit up in your chair.

While it seems like a normal video of a normal high school party with Yeji and Jisu dancing away and screaming to the music, your eyes can’t help but wander to the person dancing by themself in the background.

Yang Jungwon. And he’s alone.

This throws you off completely, because from the few parties you’ve visited and from what you’ve seen on people’s stories, Jungwon’s always been one of the lives of the party. He’s always in his huge group of school friends, dancing in the middle of the room, screaming into the microphones, spraying people with water guns. Jungwon was in fact one of the reasons you don’t go to parties often, because you can’t escape his loud personality. So seeing him in the corner, alone, with a bland expression on his face, you feel your heart sink.

And for some reason, you find yourself throwing on an outfit, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and rushing out the doors.

“Hey!” Yeji approaches you, squeezing your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, we would have got my man to pick you up!” She screams over the music, looking at you excitedly.

Before you can answer her, Yeji’s dragging you further into the house. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to a party, Y/N!” She cheers, putting down her drink to hold onto your other hand and start dancing with you. Smiling awkwardly, you dance along a little, but your eyes keep batting around the room, searching for that one familiar face. Yeji leans forward to yell into your ear, “Is something wrong?!”

You wince at the volume of her voice, flinching away in fear that she’ll damage your eardrum if she shouts any louder. “I’m fine! Have you seen-?!”

“Sunghoon?!” Yeji asks, both of your bodies still swaying along to the music. “Chaeryoung told us you broke it off with him! That’s why she’s over there with him now!” She points over to the kitchen where the two of them are. You watch as Chaeryoung giggles at whatever Sunghoon is saying, leaning into his taller frame and shyly touching his forearm.

Well, that was quick of him to move on.

Yeji holds onto both of your arms before looking into your eyes endearingly, “Do you still like him?! You know, we really need to talk about stuff like this more!” She explains as you squint your eyes, the LED flashing lights and blaring music making it difficult to focus on what she’s saying. “I miss our girly talks where we’d all talk about boys, and-!”

“Y/N!” Yuna appears from your left, immediately hugging you as she does. “You should have told me you were coming, we could have got Yeji’s boyfriend to pick you up!”

You and Yeji giggle at Yuna repeating the same phrase—realising that your whole friend group practically rely on Yeji’s boyfriend for travel. “It’s fine, I just came here for-!”

“Sunghoon?!” She asks, giving you an empathetic look. “He’s with Chaeryoung!”

Now why does everyone assume you’re here for Sunghoon?

“No, I’m here for Jungwon!”

“What?!” Both your friends yell in unison, animating their confusion with their furrowed brows and cringed noses.

“Jungwon!”

Yuna eyes Yeji a little worriedly before she bends down to speak in your ear. “You’re not going to confess, are you?” Unfortunately, you haven’t given your best friend the news of what happened between you and your so-called-enemy, so you chuckle awkwardly when she asks. “Because my parents will kill me if they find out, Y/N.”

You shake your head and offer her a fake smile, “No, don’t worry, I just need to speak to him.”

Reluctantly, she lets you go and you search the house for Jungwon. But instead, you’re met with another distraction. Perfect.

You don’t even need to turn around to know that a certain black-haired tall boy is standing behind you as you recognise the feeling of his chest almost pressed against your back. Sighing aggravatingly, you turn around to meet him. “Hey.”

Sunghoon takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes roaming your face and outfit longingly. “It’s been awhile!” He shouts, giggling at the awkwardness of having to speak over the music before stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You look really nice!”

“What?!”

“I said, you look really nice!” He repeats, this time a beautiful smile washing over his strong features. He grins at you, smiling so wide you get a perfect view of his teeth and tiny eyes.

“Thank you! So do you!” You laugh, but your smile turns sour once you remember your last conversation with him and the reason why you’re here.

Swiftly, Sunghoon pulls you by your waist, taking you by surprise. Keeping your attention on him distracted you from the shift in music from EDM to a much slower song, so when Sunghoon tugs you to dance with him, you’re panicking. His fingers hold you softly, barely touching you at all, and when you look up into his eyes, they’re already staring back down at you. He’s perfect; practically everything anyone wants in a partner. So why is Jungwon still the only person on your mind right now?

The room is a lot quieter now, so the two of you don’t need to scream in each other’s faces anymore. Thank God for that.

“Who did you dress up for, pretty?” Your cheeks can’t help but flare up at the pet name, and you have to purse your lips from smiling like a child. “It definitely wasn’t for me, was it?” There’s a sad smile to his lips, causing you to break the heavy eye contact.

“I just didn’t want to stick out, that’s all. It’d be weird if I came in normal clothes.” Mumbling, you notice the way Sunghoon lets go of your waist with one hand, only to interlock it with yours.

“So if you didn’t come here to party, why’d you come?” He asks, and all of a sudden the spinning is starting to make you a little dizzy.

You gaze up at him with round eyes, knowing full well that he’s aware of why you came here. You hate the fact that he’s forcing you to say it out loud—to come to terms with your emotions that you absolutely despise right now. Your life could be so much easier if you really did have feelings for Sunghoon (despite the fact that Chaeryoung likes him too, maybe that would have been a bit messy) because showing up to a loud, rowdy place like this for a boy who absolutely hates your guts is just too complicated for your heart to handle.

Liking Sunghoon would have been easier, and even though you’re dancing in his arms right now, you’re still choosing Jungwon.

“I need to tell him.”

“About the motorbike or about your feelings?”

You gulp, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I already told him about the bike. So now I need to apologise.”

“He’s hurt you, Y/N, really bad. I don’t get why you picked him.” His face is stern, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.

Slowly, you let go of Sunghoon’s hand, and take his other off your waist. Looking up at him, you offer him a heartfelt smile before resting your hands on his chest. You take in a deep breath before looking up at him directly and say, “Neither do I.”

And like the two of you are some characters ripped out of the pages of a novel, you break away from each other, time slowing down as you walk away from him. Seeing Chaeryoung latch onto him while you walk backwards puts you at ease a little, you hope he sees the charm in your friend, you really do.

You’ve been searching for Jungwon for around ten minutes now, and you figure he’s left since you can’t go too far in a house, can you? You end up proving yourself wrong, however, when you walk into the upstairs balcony and spot him staring into the view.

Quietly, you lean against the balcony beside him, keeping your eyes on him in case he makes an indication that he wants you to leave.

With his gaze locked onto the city, not even sparing you a glance, Jungwon sighs deeply. “What are you doing here?”

“I just needed some fresh air,” You lie, unable to muster up the courage to explain the real reason.

“Okay, well, I think you’ve breathed in enough and you can leave now.” He mutters through jarred teeth. He looks just as angry as the day you told him about the motorbike, the steam still whistling at the top of his head. His jaw is shut tight, making his jawline look sharp enough to stab you with, and his eyes are doing their own damage to the sky with how narrow he’s piercing them.

Turning to face him, you instinctively reach out your hand to hold his arm, “Jungwon, I’m sor-”

Of course he recoils his arm away and of course he gives you a disgusted look. It’s only natural—you kind of deserve this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His tone flicks a switch inside of you unknowingly as you retort, “I was just apologising?”

“No, you don’t get to apologise,” He points at you with one hand, his other leaning against the balcony frame. His brows are lowered and his tongue is occasionally poking the inside of his cheek. “You broke my..you broke my bike.” His voice breaks, and you notice the way his bottom lip quivers. “My bike. Do you know…do you know how many memories me and my parents made in Thailand? My dad taught me how to ride it, and my mum sat at the back of it while I drove on the beach and..” He sniffles, bringing up his hand to wipe at his eyes before turning away from you. “And then out of all people you ended up helping me fix it. You’re messed up, that’s-that’s not normal.” He mutters, in between quick and raspy breaths.

Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your eyes begin to tear up, too. You made Jungwon cry again. That’s twice. That’s one more than he’s done. Just when you thought you brought the old Jungwon back you broke him again. Seeing his shoulders shudder as he cries quietly into his hands has you clutching onto your chest tightly in hopes you don’t break, too.

“I’m sorry..” You whisper.

“You don’t get to say that!” He repeats, shouting into his hands.

“But, I mean it,” you say a little louder, wiping away the tears that managed to slip out to keep your voice as still as possible.

Hastily, Jungwon turns back around, “No, you don’t get to say that because..” The dark haired boy brings down his hands to reveal his face. You’ve never seen him like this; eyes soaked and his nose red and swollen. “Because it should be me. And that’s why I’m so mad.”

“It should be you? Apologising?” You ask, unconsciously inching towards him, unaware of how close your bodies are.

His eyes wander around your face for a little while before he sucks in a deep breath, “Yeah, whatever.” Sniffling, he turns his head back to the view of the city. “Obviously, you only did that because of me.”

“No, Jungwon, that was something personal to you. I-I went too far.”

Taking you by surprise, he groans into his hand loudly before looking back at you again. “You didn’t know that it was personal!” He yells, forcing you to jerk your head back a little with wide eyes. “You didn’t know that because we don’t know each other! We don’t-!” His chest heaves laboriously as his brown eyes bore deep into yours. “We’ve known each other for so long, longer than Heeseung or Jongseong or..Sunghoon.” He mumbles the last part, his lips forming into a pout.

“Yet we don’t know anything about each other?” You finish off his sentence, making sure to keep eye contact this time, because now is the time to let it all out. Now is the time for the two of you to confront the stupid situation you’ve trapped yourselves in for years. “I know,” You whisper, before pursing your lips, trying not to spill out every thought running through your mind right now.

You spot the way the shape of Jungwon’s eyes change from slitting to more rounded. They’re large and round at the front but pull out at the sides, similar to those of a cat. For some reason, his eyes are comforting.

“Yeah..” He lets out a shaky breath. “All I know is that you’re this girl that lives across the street that has the most perfect life.”

You scoff, “Well, if you call bad grades and single-”

“You have parents that hug you every morning when you leave the house for school. You have friends that will stick by you even when you ask them to do something as stupid as break your neighbour’s bike.” You both chuckle at that bit. “You’re just.. I’ve always wanted to have that. Sometimes I think of what it would be like if I switched places with you.”

Naturally, you respond with, “Well, if you had to deal with a certain someone that makes you hate leaving your house everyday, I don’t think you’d want to be me.” You laugh at your joke, before noticing the way Jungwon’s face drops. Shit—he’s the certain someone. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

“No you did. That’s why you broke my bike.” He says firmly, and the urge to look away pushes through and you turn your head away from him.

You should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it comes from Jungwon. Because the next thing you hear is a muffled snort followed by a soft laughter. Looking back at him, you’re perplexed. Was this a joke? Was this all just another prank? Does he really have no feelings? Are the police waiting at the bottom of the house to lock you away for years?

Jungwon breaks into an even louder laughter when he sees your expression, resting his elbows on the balcony rail and burying his head into his hands to try and quieten himself down. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, shaking his head, “It’s just.. I was such an asshole to you. My bike getting broken was just karma if you think about it.”

“Are you saying you deserve it?” You ask doubtfully, scared you’re dipping into hot water.

“It feels like it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how shocked you were when I was being nice for once. Like, I was really that bad, huh?”

You join in on his laughter, “We shouldn’t be laughing about this.” You say, before taking another look at Jungwon and bursting into another fit of giggles with him at the same time.

This is weird. Your arms are bumping against each other, you’re laughing so much your cheeks and throat are sore, and you can’t stop gazing into Jungwon’s eyes as you both smile with each other. You know. You’ve known since Sunghoon told you that you think about Jungwon way more than you should. You’ve known since the first time your legs touched each other accidentally that day you were fixing his bike. You’ve known since the time you watched him happily munch away on your mum’s kimbap.

You know exactly why your heart is racing right now. Racing for the idiot you’ve been hating since you were eleven years old. Racing for your so-called-enemy of six years. Racing for the guy that just laughed about how badly he’s treated you. You’re so dumb, catching feelings for someone like Jungwon. Your cheeks should not be burning right now. He’s just Jungwon, you try to remind yourself.

Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even realise the two of you have stopped laughing. It’s only now that you notice Jungwon’s eyes flickering between yours and your lips, and that he’s steadily leaning towards you. If your heart was racing before, it’s sprinting down a freaking marathon now. You stay still, waiting to see (or feel) whatever happens next. You’re too scared to initiate anything in case you freak the boy out and he backs away. Because what reason would he have to lean in right now? What reason would he have to like you back?

What reason would Yang Jungwon have to kiss you?

All of your questions fly out of the window as soon as his lips latch onto yours softly. Letting out a little gasp, although you were already expecting this, your hand flies to the balcony rail immediately. This is your first kiss. You always expected it to be more romantic; on a date with a guy in the park, or under a sakura tree at school. You never thought you’d kiss someone a few minutes after watching them cry their eyes out.

His lips are soft, though, so you close your eyes to feel them more. A hand reaches the back of your head as he tilts his head, a shaky breath blowing into yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, giggling at how inexperienced you both are. You both pull away, and you’re a little disappointed at the lack of..well..kissing there was. You’re pretty sure your lips are actually supposed to move in a kiss. So, pulling on every string of courage you have, you place your hands on either side of his shoulders and pull Jungwon in for a second round. This time, you tilt your head and open your lips a little, your stomach filling with butterflies when Jungwon lets out a sigh of relief against you. His movements are gentle, and the tenderness of his small lips opening and closing within yours causes your head to spin a little. He’s a little too good at this, his thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your waist making you feel all mushy inside.

You hate him. You hate how good he is at kissing even though it’s his first time.

Pulling away, you can’t help but cover your face. Jungwon giggles at you quietly, making your body heat up even more. You feel his hands clasp around your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, shoving his right in yours. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. His cheeks are bright red and puffed out, his lips are a little puffy and his eyes are rounder than you’ve ever seen them before. A genuine, really pretty smile sits on his lips as he speaks up again.

“We cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed.”

A/N | and that's a wrap! i'm ngl i dont really understand the hype for this fic i wish i did things a lot differently ahahah,, but u guys really enjoyed it and that's all that matters!

#jungwon x y/n #jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon x female reader #jungwon fanfic #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon drabbles #jungwon scenarios #jungwon imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #yang jungwon x reader

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mrsparrasblog · 4 months

Text

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

---------------------------------------------------------

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

----------------------------------------------

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

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When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

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“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

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“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

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“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

--------------------------------------------------

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

----------------------------------------------------

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

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Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

-----------------------------------------------------

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

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the-prettiest-teardrop · 3 months

Text

It’s On Me

Childhoodbestfriend!Steve x Introvert!Reader

Warning- Shy reader, reader like cotton candy ice cream (sorry if you don’t like it 😭), kissing, tooth rotting fluff

A/N- There was inspiration taken from the Cherry series, and this was also based off an ask.

———

You pick at your nails, the blue polish lifting and peeling up. It was the same color it always was, light turquoise blue, you’d stuck to the same color since middle school. You thought people didn’t notice, I mean, you didn’t really talk much, well, not to anyone but Steve.

The two of you met in primary school, both around 6 years old. Some girl had bumped into you, causing you to spill the soup you brought to school for lunch. He had swooped in to save the day, sharing his lunch with you, and the two of you had been attached at the hip since.

In middle school, you watched as Steve gained popularity, and you stayed behind, your once outgoing personality reduced to a shadow of its former glory. You didn’t have many friends, but time after time, he was there beside you, never leaving. This devotion caused you to become attracted to him, something that wouldn’t leave you.

The same pattern continued in high school, but somehow, you made it through all that, and more, and came out the other side.

Now you were here, walking beside him, Robin and Eddie behind you, and the kids behind them. After all the whining and complaining about the heat, Steve had dragged you all out to get ice cream.

“C’mon, walk faster. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can cool down.” He calls back to the rest of the group picking up the pace a bit, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him.

You had always enjoyed the feeling of his hand grasping yours, the slight roughness of his palm, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing the back of your hand. It was familiar, something that calmed you in awkward situations. You thought back to all the things he’d done for you over the years, sneaking chapstick into your pocket, replacing your nail polish, all things he thought you never noticed.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asks, noticing the way you bit your lip and looked off to the side, spaced out in thought.

“Oh, nothin’, just figuring out what I’m gonna get.” You reply quietly, looking him in his big brown eyes. God, you could drown in them, with the way they swallowed you with kindness.

“They’ve got Cotton Candy, your favorite.” He says with a little smile, nudging you with a smile. He remembered your favorite flavor after all the nights the two of you spent together, talking til’ the sun rose.

“Can you two lovebirds pick up the pace? For someone who just told us to stop complaining and walk faster, you’re really slowing us down.” Robin calls out, followed by a chorus of agreement from the kids. Steve groaned and began walking faster, muttering something about how he wished people didn’t say stuff like that to you, that you were just friends.

Although you’d never say it aloud, you kind of liked the teasing, it made you feel like other people would approve if you ever got in a relationship with him that was more than purely platonic.

Once you arrived at the ice cream shop, everyone ordered, and Steve quickly payed. You immediately noticed he got nothing for himself, and you began to get worried. It was easy for you to spiral, something you were used to, the second you got worried, you began to think the worst. As you spiraled, worried about something as small as him not getting ice cream, your eyes drifted to his hands. Before you could think about how nice his hands were, you got distracted by his near-empty wallet. Without another word, you got up from where you were sitting, leaving your ice cream at the table, and pulling out your own wallet. You quickly ordered his favorite, reciting it as if it was something as simple as your own name.

“Here.” You state simply, placing it in front of him before sitting in the chair across from him.

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m fine.” He says apologetically, his face flushing red.

“No, I wanted to.” You reassure, taking his hand in yours, suddenly feeling a little bit bold.

“Honey, you don’t need to worry about me, and don’t tell me you aren’t worried, because we both know that’s a damn lie.” His tone is as sweet as the ice cream the two of you are eating, and it melts your heart. He reaches out, swiping his thumb on your chin to rid the bit of ice cream that had melted onto it. You laugh softly, and when he doesn’t move his hand, you suddenly go quiet. “Y’know I’ve liked you for like, ever, right? Ever since middle school, when you dragged me out to your backyard after my first girlfriend dumped me. I was so upset, but we ended up falling asleep out there, and I forgot all about her.” He admits suddenly, his face still flushed a little red.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve liked you since middle school too.” You say, suddenly less worried about what other people think, I mean, he likes you too, finally.

“I was scared, but c’mon baby, I’ve made it pretty obvious.” He quips with a little grin, and before you can reply, he’s giving you a soft kiss. You can taste ice cream on his lips, and he can taste the same strawberry chapstick he had been slipping into your pocket since 7th grade.

“Love you baby.” He whispers as to pill back.

“Love you too Stevie.” You whisper back. These confessions didn’t go unnoticed on the walk home, with cheers from the rest of the group. You couldn’t be happier, you finally had the boy you’d been wanting for years.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine

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londonfog-chan · 4 months

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I Will Not Keep My Mouth Shut About this High School Romance Between Eddie Munson x Reader (Headcanons)

Why lord? Why are we not talking about this?

I’ve dated metalhead guys in the past, and believe in me when I say these fuckers move fast.

Eddie is no exception to this rule. He loves hard and quickly, especially if you’re into the same things he’s into as well.

I’m talking balls to the wall insanity like: the day won’t even be over and he’ll have already asked you out, kissed you, offered you weed, and secretly be planning the names of the four kids he wants with you.

Mans is delulu as fuck for you.

As much as he has his passions there’s just something about the fact that you actually gave the town freak unconditional love that makes him desperate. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club, he’d pick you over them any day if it meant he got to keep you.

Guarantee, you’ll already have gone all the way before the weekend is up of that first week of the relationship.

Cherry boy cherry boy cherry boy.

But he knows what he’s doing. It will have been awkward but the best part is now “Rainbow in the Dark” makes you feel all hot under the collar and “Shame on the Night” makes you laugh and reminds you of the awkward panic cleaning up after.

The epitome of live fast die young. He will throw his life away if you ask him to, so make sure you use your powers wisely.

At some point Eddie will ask you to run away with him. He doesn’t give a shit where, so long as it’s with you.

Shared interests are probably how the two of you met in the first place, especially if you’re like me and unable to beat the weird kid allegations. You drifted towards his club because you for whatever reason were an outcast too.

Eddie would probably crush on those who are conventionally pretty, popular, the epitome of the 80’s beauty standards. That’s just human nature. But with you… it’s so much more different.

You’re like his nerdy fantasies come to life, like the princesses he writes about in his campaigns that are a mix of dark, dangerous, able to hold their own and fight for him and with him. Think of if you will a sexy bombshell rotoscoped into those old metal music videos. Facing the world wearing only red lipstick and a cocksure expression.

He would get along so well with someone who wasn’t afraid to let their wild side show, or to express it. But at the same time if you’re more shy and reserved, he is determined to help you come out of that shell and be the best possible version of yourself.

It’s impossible not to match his excitable energy, it’s just so goddamn contagious. It might scare you how far you’re willing to go for Eddie and how quickly you might find yourself changing. Because believe me, you will change, and it will be for the better.

Eddie will always be your number one hype man.

He will literally be so excited about everything you do because it’s you! The person he loves more than anyone in this whole entire world.

Eddie will literally put up with so much for you. Even if you guys fight he will struggle to maintain his composure because he does not want to fuck this beautiful thing up.

Drives himself up the wall with anxiety about it too. But that’s the thing about Eddie’s dynamic with you: is that he will do what it takes to keep his fucking cool around you.

Your fights are infrequent but can get explosive if there are unsaid insecurities. So to avoid this: keep honest with him. About everything. Don’t lie to him, because as fast as he fell for you, lying is the quickest way to break his trust and send him packing.

One of his flaws in the relationship is that his insecurity that this will all go away will make him all that more prepared to leave if you have a massive blow up fight.

Like he’s already preplanned his exit strategy and everything.

But the longer you’re together, the more comfortable he gets and eventually he settles down from jumping the gun into taking things one day at a time.

He’s a fucking keeper. And all I’m gonna say is you better start training with swinging a blunt weapon because once you have him, you’re going to be right there in the Upside Down fucking up some monsters keeping them away from your man.

#reader insert #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #help #I love him your honor #y’all will be on some delulu ass shit #I know I am #stranger things x reader #headcanon #headcanons #stranger things headcanons

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trippinsorrows · 6 days

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10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side.

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former.

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too.

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk.

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way.

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career.

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc.

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor.

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that.

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else.

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr.

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it.

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be.

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood.

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is.

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie.

The OTC is WWE.

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone.

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind.

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline.

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away.

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity.

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen.

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob.

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this.

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside.

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her.

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No.

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better.

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow.

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life.

Failing her.

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong.

And she’ll fight for it.

For him.

For their son.

For their family.

She has to.

#roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns

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absolutebl · 7 months

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These Weeks in BL - This Is Very Late, Or Right on Time depending on where you sit on the temporal debate team

Sorry I got distracted by work. In my defense: I was paid.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 1 & 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 12 fin - Unfortunately, there was singing. But what can we do?

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. This is a great show, a solid adaptation, and a pleasing take on the original yaoi. I personally like it better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. I doubted them for this and I shouldn’t have. They did a great job, as did the sides. I will say all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be. Definitely one for the rewatch rotation. 9/10

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 1 of 8 (10?) - Damn it, I love it. And I don't want to. It’s more classic BL than I thought it would be, and far less Only Friends or Playboyy. (Thank fuck.) We got a big cast and a lot of tropes going down out the gate, including SMITTEN popular hot guy versus nerd with secret identity. (Incidentally, Khem did drop into rude / informal when arguing with his Aunt and defending his ma. Bratty boy.) The leads have good chemistry (First always does), and everyone is very pretty. The main boy reminds me of J-Min's role (and look) in Love Class 2. I am entertained. (And faintly wonder why this isn't a MosBank vehicle.)

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) eps 1-3 of 8- High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite a decade later when both of them have full time jobs (celebrity & doctor). Dr Ji is a familiar face (hi Dream it's been a LONG time) and everyone is way too old for high school, but I guess I prefer this to child actors?

I'm enjoying it, actually, the cast may be older but they're solid as a result and the chemistry is on point for a pulp. Whether our celebrity is on the DL or cheating or something else remains to be seen but he sure is smitten. The way he LOOKS at Ji = hawt.

Frankly? Celebrity/doctor is a good pairing and this is a solid Thai BL. I hope we have a nice angsty reason for the break-up and we're not in another Promise situation. I like the sides too. Carry on, little show, I'm disposed to be pleased with you.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 12 - I am enjoying it, actually. It’s incredibly silly. But I don’t really mind. STOP SINGING.

1000 Years Old eps 3-4 of 12 - I love that these kids basically adopted a vampire pet. And one of them accidentally got a vampire boyfriend. This suddenly turned from a PNR into a family drama about domestic gays opening a food stall and I'm not mad about it. Nothing makes sense and I don't care because... rainbow umbrella!

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV grey) eps 1 of 10 - I don’t love it. I make no bones about the fact that a pining uke rarely works for me, especially if he’s younger (cute supportive besties not withstanding), the power dynamic isn’t good. I always like Kimmon, he’s a stiff actor but v pretty. (I shallow af.) Still it’s time he started acting his age… literally. Having to watch ads again as well… for this? Ooof. I'm not sure I'm strong enough.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 fin - It was very cute. I liked that there was uke instigated kisses. However I have some reservations on this one, much as I enjoyed it.

Adapted from Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team included Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (Old Fashion Cupcake). Essentially Perfect Propose was about finding hope in a person when all other hope is gone. This show focuses on apathy, and perforce is somewhat apathetic and un-engaging especially as the pacing was off (and with only 6 episodes? now) However, this is countered by great visuals, good archetypes, and a clean story of childhood sweethearts reuniting after loosing their way in life. I landed on 8/10 mostly for a demanding younger seme and some great kisses.

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube) eps 2-3 of 11 - Oh it’s great. I love it. I’m still worried by how gritty and "Taiwanese short-esk" it feels, but wow does this hit all my favorite taboo tropes and buttons. I also adore the little found fam, they the cutest gay older bros ever. The younger one who wants so bad to grow up and take care of the older one and pushes himself because into self sacrifice that’s the only model of love he has. ARGH. BOYS. Why so much pain, just smooch already! Sheesh. It's on YouTube for some of us, here's the schedule.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) eps 6-7 of 10 - They remain questionably cute, and that is probably going to be my ultimate review of this show. Awe cameo! (Hi babies, hope the ghosts are leaving you alone.) The irony does not escape me that the person in the relationship with the most emotional acumen is, in fact, the robot and not the human. I'm sure that's meant to be deep.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - A tortured second chance romance featuring a reported and a successful celebrity(?) academic. The kid actors look nothing like their adult counterparts, but they do look much younger. So, okay. Ah the utter embarrassment of first love. Oh I like it a lot, so very messy Japanese emo. Sigh. Here we go again.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 8-9 of 10 - They are a cute couple. They both trying so hard and so confused and awkward and polite in trying to understand each other but TERRIBLE at communication.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - I don’t know how I feel about this. But I do know it’s not my thing because it’s not BL. I’ll finish it because it’s short but… meh.

It's done, ready to binge, but I have no time

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) - I will try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will watch eventually.

It's airing but...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - finished it's run and I won't be watching it. It's horror with BL elements and the ending, well, let's just say that's a "no thank you" from me.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… no. I'm not watching this. I dislike this franchise.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Takumi-kun (2023) movie version AKA Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa released on FOD 3/5/2024. The original project was a 6 ep series. Having seen all the previous iterations and read the (terrible) yaoi I admit to being intrigued. If anyone finds eng subbed please let me know with a link in comments or in a DM? For those intersted in this show, probably the world's first true BL franchise I chat all about it here.

Gossip

James Supamongkon has withdrawn from the series Love Upon A Time and the NetJames pair is no more. Net Siraphop will continue with the historical BL project alongside a new partner. Can I interest you in Tod Techit... almost as pretty, legs for days...

The Complete Chronology of the Assault Case Against GMMTV Actor Win Pawin

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Next Week Looks Like This:

Still Coming

3/21 Two Worlds (Thai IQIYI) 10 eps - announced here. One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames staring MaxNat. I'm over them but Asia flipping loves this trope and I do adore MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, 12 years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Thai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram apparently alive. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha (played by Gun Thanawat who is Khom the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night).

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

How flipping adorable is this vampire with his big gay umbrella? SUCH A DORK and we got more vampire dorks coming.

Thailand has found its vampire line and it's awkward and geeky and quite cheerful. 'Bout what we expected, to be fair. It's a good look for them.

And vampires.

In other news...

That's your random moment of thirst, Lim Jimin shirtless AKA my Just B bias (I mean, I could talk about how good his extensions are and how I love a husky voice in Kpop but really, just LOOK at him). I'm very very very shallow, remember? Full vid is here.

Why am I mentioning Lim Jimin (aside from the obvious)? If Just B doesn't break soon, I could some of them transitioning to BL. Jimin in particular would be a win for us, obvs.

Also, can we talk about Bain (my bias wrecker) KILLING it on Build Up? I had no idea he was that good. Anygay, this has been your Kpop end note.

Seriously tho, is ANYONE else watching Build-Up?

(Last week - well, 2 weeks ago)

Streaming services are listed how I'm (usually watching) which is with a USA based IP

The tag bragade: @doorajar

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will. Easy peesy.

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luvjunie · 1 year

Note

twirls my hair if you’re taking request uhhh— what about reader with tattoos like a full sleeve and piercings and maybe big hair like a fro, braids something that makes her stand out— basically she’s just real intimidating and popular too fast for her liking she just transferred school and the guys are trying to pounce on her but miles 42 is the one that catches her eye?

— a fresh start

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary: it’s your first day at a new school, and surprisingly, making a friend isn’t as hard as you thought it’d be. wc: 1,853

a/n: changed this up a little i hope you don’t mind! 100% unintentional but when my mind wanders i follow it 😭

Back at Brooklyn High, you were always told by teachers that school wasn’t a venue for your ‘personal fashion show’, but that it was a place for learning. And while you agreed, it wasn’t your fault that you looked the way you did… Well, that’s a lie. But you loved your look, and so did your peers.

While your hair was big and somewhat distracting to others, your dad always told you it reminded him of what your mom’s looked like the first time he met her, so you never bothered to change the way you styled it, no matter how much you dreaded putting it in bantu knots or doing a twist out every three days.

As for your face full of piercings, that was all you. It was something your dad didn’t favor at all, and he definitely didn’t understand how it was ‘a way for you to express and be true to yourself’, but that was the explanation you gave him, and eventually he accepted it. Though begrudgingly— it was still acceptance, so you took what you could get.

The first piercing was your eyebrow, and you’d done it in your bathroom when you were fourteen with a safety pin. One look at yourself in the mirror made you forget all about the throbbing pain radiating from your face, and just a week had passed before you were already thinking of another. You swore to your dad that it’d be the only one, and that you just wanted to try something new; until you wanted to try your belly button, your septum, and both of your nostrils. After that, It’s safe to say that everywhere you went, attention followed.

Expressing yourself through your clothes and accessories was just a part of who you were. And back at Brooklyn High, you were proud of the way you looked.

But you weren’t at Brooklyn High anymore.

The uniforms were drab at Visions academy. Every girl wearing the same two articles of clothing as the other; the same sad story for the boys. And to keep it a buck, if you were comparing visions to your old school, the atmosphere here sure looked a lot like a jail. And if not for the small loopholes you’d managed to locate in the dresscode, it would’ve felt like it, too.

The searing heat of curious eyes followed you the moment you entered the building, and you began to wonder if choosing to stand out on purpose was the best idea after all. It seemed at Visions, that came naturally for someone like you.

For a few reasons other than the ones you could change in five minutes, you didn’t fit in here. Not in the slightest.

With a wavered sigh and your books glued to your chest, you continued on to your first block, tuning out the whispers that were far from hushed.

It took you a little longer than the six minute passing period to discover your History class within the ginormous fluorescent halls, and when you finally stepped foot into the dimly lit room and noticed the Crash Course video playing on the projector, it dawned on you that they were already well into the lesson.

Almost everyone’s head lifted to look at you when you entered. Almost everyone’s head but a kid who was face down, drooling on his desk, and another whose gaze remained welded to a sheet of paper the graphite of his mechanical pencil was scribbling against. The familiarity of crisp parts and blue magic-sheened cornrows stood out to you first, and a small sense of comfort finally washed over you— for a moment.

The video on the projector paused abruptly, and your teacher appeared to be the exact opposite of dazzled at your late arrival. Great.

“Nice of you to join us, miss…?”

“Y/n, sorry…” You cleared your throat and smiled more like grimaced apologetically, the chain clipped to the waistband of your skirt serving as an idle fidget. “Got lost, real big school.”

Mr. Benson, as it read on your printed class schedule, adjusted his glasses when he went to jot something down onto the paper below him. “Alright, y/n. You can sit next to…”

You watched as a few kids straightened up in their seats, attempting to look uninterested enough to play it cool, yet noticeable enough for the teacher to remember they existed and place your seat next to them.

“Morales. Raise your hand.”

The boy in question quietly clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pencil clacking against the wood of his desk when he set it down. It looked like his concentration had been broken, and instead of raising his hand, he lifted his head from where it was damn near nose deep in whatever he was doing, and just stared at you.

His slowed blinks gave you enough grounds to take a gander that he was the ‘Morales’ in question.

A stunted breath and a silent nod later, you made your way through the aisle of desks and smoothly slid into the one a pin-filled backpack had just been removed from.

You’d be crazy to not let your curiosity get the best of you, especially now that you were this close to where the brooding energy was coming from. So once your teacher unpaused the video, you stole a peek over at your new desk neighbor, and noticed that his right arm was now strategically placed over the geometric sketches on his paper.

Seeing as it was already mid-year and you were new to the huge school, you figured it’d be in your best interest to try and make at least one friend. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him, until a light tap on your shoulder from behind stole your attention.

“Umm, excuse me?”

You turned around to meet the freckled face of the boy who was sat behind you.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, sorry, but I can’t see over your hair. It’s kinda… in the way.”

It wasn’t necessarily what he said that bothered you, it was how he said it, and the fact that he barely stifled a laugh when he did.

Reclined in his chair with his arms crossed, Miles fought to hide the scowl threatening to twist his lips. The desks in this class were staggered, specifically to avoid the very issue of heads blocking the line of sight, meaning there was no way your hair was actually hindering his view.

“O-oh… Sorry, it does that. Sometimes.” Flustered, you nervously tried to press your hair down a little without ruining its shape, the one that took you a whole hour to achieve just this morning.

Miles assumed you were the girl his classmate was blabbing about just before the bell rung, remembering the brief yet detailed explanation of ‘fresh face, big hair, decked out uniform and kinda cute’. Poking fun at you must have been his pitiful attempt at flirting.

Miles suddenly spoke in your defense, eyes remaining on the screen in a bored daze.

“It’s not her fault you 5’2, James. Drink some milk when you get home, maybe you’ll have a growth spurt.”

You sent an inquisitive glance his way and kept it there. You hadn’t thought about what you expected his voice to sound like, or that the first time you’d hear it would be because of him defending you, but this was definitely a pleasant surprise. His voice was so smooth it put silk to shame, and it was a bit low, too, as if he’d just woken up a few minutes ago. Yet it didn’t sound as if he’d quieted his voice on purpose; something that led you to believe he was usually this soft spoken.

“Shut up, Miles.” James grumbled.

“Ain’t my fault you can’t flirt for shit. I’m tryna help you out.”

Some surrounding students close enough to hear the retort had snickered, and a laugh managed to leave your mouth before you could prevent it, resulting in a loud “SHHHH!” from the front of the class.

“That’s funny?” Miles’ hazel eyes floated over to you, swirling with mirth and pinning you in place.

He was joking, but his tone probably didn’t give off that vibe, seeing as you were gawking at him like a deer in headlights.

“I’m messin’ with you,” A small grin played on his face. “I’m Miles.”

“Oh,” an awkward chuckle relaxed your shoulders. “Y/n.” you responded quietly.

“Yeah… I know.” There was a hint of a chuckle beneath his voice. It seemed you’d forgotten that you revealed your identity to everyone just minutes ago.

But you couldn’t help it, you’d never seen a boy quite this pretty before, with lashes long enough to make you jealous and a smile you were certain owed its beauty to genetics, and not an expensive set of middle school braces.

He had six freshly done straightbacks with curved parts, and two clear beads hanging onto each tail that sat a little below his shoulders. It was then that you noticed the medium sized, gimmering stud he sported on his ear, and you deemed it safe to assume his other ear had the same. Cute.

Still feeling the heat of your eyes on his temple long after he’d averted his attention, Miles curiously glanced back at you, then teasingly nodded his head towards the front of the room.

“Pay attention,” he whispered, that same molten look in his eyes. “I don’t share notes.”

—

Class went by in a bit of a haze, to no surprise. It was extremely difficult to pay attention when the fear of your possibly-misshapen fro was on your mind. Today happened to be the one day you’d decided you didn’t need to bring your pick to school, the image of it sitting on your dresser emitting a disappointed sigh from you.

The tinny screech of chairs brought you back to the present, where class had been dismissed and students were shoving papers into their backpacks and shuffling out the doorway, all in a hurry to their next block.

Miles stood up from his seat, appearing to be in no rush.

“I like your hair, by the way.” he observed randomly. “Cool piercings, too.”

The compliment eased your nerves completely. It was genuine, as if he knew you were still thinking about what happened earlier.

“Thank you,” Tucking your notebook away, you looked up to see him sling his backpack over one shoulder. “for defending me earlier, too.”

“S’ no big deal.” he shrugged, but it was, to you.

“Cool braids, by the way.” you parroted through a lighthearted smile.

“Thanks,” Miles’ eyes panned to the floor when he felt himself grin. A habit of his you’d already managed to pick up on in your short knowing of him.

“I’ll catch you later.” He deemed with a two-fingered salute, other hand burrowing into the pocket of his pants.

Rising to your feet, you gave a small wave and watched as he headed out into the crowded hallway with the others; feeling a little less nervous to come to history class tomorrow.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse headcanons #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader

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v3x-y0urs3lf · 6 months

Text

Qiu Lin x Loner / unpopular / shy? MC

Written during the demo ⭐️

Tamarack x Popular reader

Depending on what steps I’m talking about, I’ll change Qiu’s pronouns..

Also, I’m aware that being a ‘loner’ or unpopular doesn’t necessarily mean you’re shy. I do occasionally mention the MC being shy, unlike step 1 Qiu I’m not always going to be able to be too accommodating.

I kind of got sidetracked during the end of Step 3, I’m sorry it doesn’t really fit with the theme.

I am incredibly tired right now, apologies if the English isn’t clear. I did not proof read this.

————————————————————

I feel like this trope perfectly fits Qiu during a majority of the steps (1-3 I don’t really know about 4.) mainly because Qiu - despite not really intending on it, just is naturally popular even during step 2 (somehow?)

Step one Qiu just doing his usual thing with being overly accommodating and super welcoming to the new neighbour and they’re just.. not accepting it?

You can try and turn Qiu down softly or even just straight up ignore him and he’d.. accept it? I dunno, going off by Qiu’s normal reactions to when you choose to dismiss him.. he doesn’t seem like he’d care unless someone’s starting to judge or bother the MC and vice versa.

I’d like to just highlight that like.. everyone knows Qiu? I quite literally just imagine a bunch of kids during school constantly asking to play with him and while Qiu feels a bit too mean to decline.. he really wants to go play with his new neighbour?

Qiu would try and introduce the MC (and Tamarack.. maybe.) to all of his other friends but.. Neither of them are really budging which puts Qiu at a bit of a cross point.

I’m honestly not too sure what he’d do, lol. My heart wants me to say that Qiu would just go play with the MC anyways, regardless of how many people want him to play with t them but. My brain is telling me he’d give in to all the majority and play with them for a while before going to find the MC later.

Does that mean Qiu doesn’t want to go play with the MC instead? No. Does that mean Qiu doesn’t look their way occasionally while he’s playing tag with the other kids? No. Does that mean Qiu hurts the other kids’ feelings by straight up turning them down? Also no.

Logically thinking, despite what he wants- Qiu would pick to accomodate for the bigger crowd but leave a section of his time to make up for ‘ditching’ the MC for a moment.

It’s very obvious around that Qiu will always go back for the MC. No matter how fun the game is, No matter how distracted/forgetful he usually gets, No matter how many people he’s playing with- He will. Without a doubt. Go talk or play with the MC for at least 10 minutes before break or whatever ends.

Now, Step two.. “All they want in life is a little peace with the ones they trust. Such as, potentially their very favourite neighbor/neighbour.”

Qiu is still very obviously and very much ‘popular’. That never changes throughout their life (probably). They just don’t want to be.

Picture Qiu and MC, chilling by themselves and just avoiding people. By this stage there shouldn’t be any shyness or complete hatred and so, the two of them just sit with each other comfortably as Qiu rejects and declines any and all offers to hang out with anyone else but MC, Ren, Baxter(?) and.. potentially Tamarack? (Not sure about the last two.)

Unfortunately, Qiu can’t control their popularity or ‘Acquaintances’/old friends and everyone does notice when the ‘popular kid’ starts solely hanging out with one person in particular.

I’m not saying MC is getting bullied.. I’m just saying everyone can tell there is obvious favouritism and high school students can and will be mean.. take that as you will.

This is totally the time for “doesn’t get the hype but warms up to person B”.

I might just be biased but.. After 4 years you’d think you’d warm up to the neighbour kid enough to start to.. tolerate? Be content? .. perhaps even enjoy the presence of?

I don’t want to describe the MC too much but let’s just say the feelings between the both of them are mutual. (As in two teens just wanting to get away from the world.)

The two of you find solace in each other’s presence, the two of you having a mutual understanding that you both don’t really want to interact with the world but you’re totally fine with each other.

I hate how short step 2 was but I don’t know how else to describe angsty teens being angsty teens. So we’re moving onto Step three.

Qiu now understands the MC more, After having 8 years knowing each other and at least 4 years of deep conversations as angsty teenagers they can now officially say they understand your point of view.

Qiu doesn’t try to push the MC out of their comfort zone like he would’ve back in Step 1 but they certainly wouldn’t leave the MC to exactly stay in their own shell of aloofness.

Qiu does try to suggest getting out there, meeting new people but if you totally don’t want to- Up to you! They aren’t you and so they will NOT make that decision for you.

Autumn is up for a chat if you’re looking for one though, even the quietest, shyest, most aloof people in town sometimes need someone their age to talk to. Qiu gets it.

You were there through a very deep part of Qiu’s life and they are ready to be for you too if you want them there. Qiu can’t promise that they’ll help solve your problems or make you the talk of the town, but you better bet that they’ll cherish your relationship far after death do the two of you part.

#qiu lin #not my character #olnf qiu #our life now and forever #qiu lin headcanons #qiu lin x reader #our life qiu #our life x reader #not my art

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daemour · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Yunho x f! yn, mentioned possible woosan

Word Count: 4002

Warnings: cursing, kissing

Genre: Angst, fluff, e2l, school setting (unspecified), E for everyone

Summary: Getting flowers from a secret admirer was the highlight of your week. But with a certain blonde student disrupting your every day, things may change.

Hello @hotteoki <3 I am your secret admirer! It was great getting to know you and I hope you enjoy this! It kinda got away from me, and I do have a bonus woosan drabble that connect to this so i hope you enjoy it! and can you figure out who was giving the flowers?

“Ooh, look how popular you are, (Y/N), you got flowers again!”

Your peace of mind is shattered when you hear your worst enemy, Jeong Yunho walk by and tease you about your secret admirer. “Just because you’re going to die a lonely old geezer doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my flowers, Jeong,” you snap at him before returning your gaze to the bouquet of wildflowers lying on your desk. Every Monday, an assortment of flowers would be waiting for you, and every Monday Yunho teases you about it incessantly.

Yunho cackles, leaning forward (on your desk, might you add) and poking at the flowers. “What’d you get this time? White and purple lilacs? Cute. This person must really like you, (Y/N)...I feel sorry for them.” He punctuates each word with another poke and you close your eyes, exasperated.

“Jeong Yunho, get back in your seat before I smack you,” you threaten, but it does nothing to intimidate your personal pain in the ass. All he does is laugh and raise his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey man, I’m just saying. You’re so mean to me already, how would you be if they came out and told you.”

You blink at him, barely processing his words before your mouth drops open and you get ready to retort when the teacher comes in and you’re forced to sit down with a polite smile.

“Mr Jeong, please take a seat so we may begin our lesson,” your teacher calls out and Yunho shoots you a smile that you want to wipe off his face before taking his seat.

“I don’t understand what he has got against me,” you complain to your friends as soon as you sit at your lunch table. “Ever since we went into college he’s made it his life’s mission to annoy me. I don’t think we ever interacted with each other in middle school. Or even high school! I know he’s my neighbour or whatever, but he could stand to be nicer.”

Wooyoung slurps on his banana milk, not even caring about your issues, but Seonghwa leans forward, always invested in the gossip. Even if he’s heard the same thing from you dozens of times. “Maybe he likes you?”

You scoff loudly at the suggestion. “Ew, no.” You shake your head and shut down that idea. “Even if he did, that’s no way to get me to like you back! What, I fall into his arms? ‘Oh, Yunho, thanks for making fun of me and putting me down at any moment you get!’ Yeah, that’ll work.”

You roll your eyes so harshly you think they might pop out of your head and Wooyoung finally looks up. “Have you told him to stop?” You open your mouth to object but your friend cuts in again. “Or do you just fight him back and keep playing his game?”

You blink owlishly before sighing and leaning back in your chair. “You know, sometimes you can be pretty smart.”

Wooyoung nods happily before it hits him and his head snaps toward you. “Sometimes?”

Your usual bouquet awaits you when you arrive at school the following Monday. This week it’s white lilies and you stop to breathe in the fresh scent. But to your surprise, something else is sitting on your desk. A packet of mentos sits plain on the desk and you stare at it for a few unblinking moments.

“Do you like it?” You jump at Yunho’s voice suddenly appearing from behind you.

Of course. You whirl around and point at the offender. “Can’t you leave me alone? I don’t know what I’ve done to make you hate me, but really, dude. What lengths are you going to go to? How did you even find out my least favourite candy? Why do you keep bothering me day after day?”

Yunho stares at you, his eyes wide and you almost feel bad. Almost. But you shake away these unwanted thoughts and narrow your eyes. Wooyoung was right—you let the teasing go on for far too long. “Just leave me alone,” you sigh and plop down in your seat and bury your head in your arms, no longer wanting to see your biggest tormenter. (And yes, you are exaggerating.)

Yunho mumbles something you can’t quite hear but you’re unbothered by it and just steadily ignore him. There’s another pause before you hear him walk away and your shoulders relax. But even so, you can’t help but feel guilt for how you snapped at Yunho. Maybe he really didn’t know you were feeling annoyed.

But no, you can’t bend like that. He’s been bothering you for a good part of the school year and even if he thought you were okay with it, surely he should’ve at least gotten to know you before jumping into teasing you.

You have more important things to worry about anyway, such as your secret admirer. Every time you see a new bouquet on the desk, your heart rate spikes and you can’t stop a smile from growing on your face.

But, the more you think about it, the more worried you are about what the outcome of this would be.

And lately, not just flowers have been appearing on your desk. Sometimes, there’s a phone charm, maybe a strawberry milk or two, always something extra alongside it. It’s only made you more curious about your secret admirer, and you can’t stop talking about it to your friends.

In your quest, you’ve narrowed it down to two people, Choi Jongho and Kang Yeosang. Both are in your grade, although you don’t talk to them very often. You just know they’re on the quieter side so would be more likely to prefer secret gifts. Plus, you’ve had projects with both of them so they are at least connected to you in some way.

“Are you just going to spend your lunch doing this?” Wooyoung barges into your empty homeroom during lunch, carrying his lunch as well as a sandwich from the cafeteria for you. He pulls a chair in front of you and sits. “You gotta at least eat. Just because Hwa is sick doesn’t mean I’m gonna feed you in his place.”

You laugh, looking up at him and taking the sandwich. “Aren’t you doing that right now though?” You dodge his swat, laughing as you push aside your gifts of the day. “Anyways, yes. I have my guesses narrowed down, but even if they’re both wrong is just fun to me,” you shrug.

Wooyoung hums, leaning forward to poke at the ring pop. “Can I eat this?”

You can’t help but snort, nodding. “Go ahead. But, you know, I wonder if they’d ever come forward. All I get are gifts and I don’t know if they’d ever tell me how they feel. That's why I keep guessing. I want to know.”

A sigh escapes Wooyoung’s mouth, and he cocks his head. “But (Y/N), what if they don’t want to be known? I mean, maybe they’d just like to be anonymous and just it die after graduation?”

You shrug, meeting his eyes. “I just wouldn’t want to live my life not knowing. Of course it can be scary to confess, but missing that chance would be worse, wouldn’t it? I wouldn’t ever reject them meanly if they turn out to be someone I wouldn’t like. Hell, my two guesses I don’t know if I’d want to date.”

Wooyoung nods, relaxing in his chair. “No, that makes sense. It’s better to get a solid answer than not. Do you think they’ll ever reveal it?”

Yet again, you shrug. “I really don’t know. I would understand if they don’t, but I hope they do.”

Wooyoung opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, the door to the classroom opens and an unfortunately familiar head of hair pokes through. “What are you doing here, Jeong?” you snap, eyes narrowing. “Can’t even have lunch in peace now?”

A choked sound escapes Yunho’s throat and he looks ready to run back out and pretend it never happened, but he swallows it back and steps into the classroom. “I want to talk to you, (Y/N). I promise it’s nothing bad. Will you hear me out?”

You narrow your eyes and beckon him closer. “Fine. What is it?”

His eyes flick to Wooyoung, who leans back with a face of disapproval. “You can say it in front of me too,” he states, his expression unchanging.

At that moment, you really appreciate Wooyoung. Although he’s the one who told you to set a boundary with Yunho instead of letting him have his fun, he’ll still have your back. Yunho glances at you but you make no move to correct Wooyoung so he sighs and steps fully into the room.

“It’s about the gifts. And no, it’s not a joke,” Yunho quickly adds when he sees your face shift to a deeper frown. “Uh. I was just passing by when I heard you talking to Wooyoung and I figured I should tell you now.”

A sinking feeling starts to grow in your stomach. “No–”

Wooyoung starts to look genuinely regretful that he decided to stay, and you can’t blame him one bit. “It is me,” Yunho confirms. “I wasn’t the flowers.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “You think that helps, Jeong?” You let out an exasperated sigh and a shake of your head. “You’ve been making my life here difficult for the better part of a year and I finally tell you off. And you think adding to my confusion on the secret admirer is going to help? You must be crazy.”

Yunho shakes his head frantically. “No, it’s not just that. Of course, I wanted to show I was sorry but there’s another reason. I…uh. Do I really have to say it in front of Wooyoung?”

You frown, eyes flicking back and forth between them before you sigh and concede. “Wooyoung, could you give him some privacy?”

With a nod and a face of pure happiness at not having to witness what would be awkward for him, Wooyoung practically runs out of the classroom, leaving everything but the sandwich he had brought for you. “What did you want to say, Jeong?”

“I like you, (Y/N).”

Before his words settle fully your head’s already a mess. “What?” You can’t get a full sentence out, just blinking at your classmate, whose ears seem to be turning red. “No, this is another prank, right? You’ve decided that I can’t just have a good time with my friends.”

Yunho steps forward, pleading with his eyes but you scoot back in your chair. “(Y/N), please. I’m being serious. I wouldn’t joke about that.”

“You wouldn’t?” You scoff, even though it sounds a bit wet. “Tell me, why would I believe that? Even if you had left me alone, that doesn’t erase everything else you did to me. You don’t act with sincerity, Yunho. Go away like I told you to weeks ago.”

Yunho frowns and doesn’t go away, only coming even closer. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can make it up to me by leaving me alone. You can’t expect me to like you after bothering me so much, really now, Yunho.” You shake your head again, standing up and gathering your stuff, pointedly leaving the gifts he had been giving you on the desk. “I should go find Wooyoung now.”

And before Yunho can say anything you leave him standing in the middle of the class as you wander through the halls hoping to pass the time before your next class (thankfully not with him).

“Can you believe he did that?” You groan, pressing your face against Seonghwa’s shoulder as Wooyoung awkwardly pats your back. After successfully avoiding Yunho for the next week, you had to call an emergency movie night with your friends to figure out what to do.

“Well, I hate to say it, but I told you–” Seonghwa cuts off his jibe when you glare at him. “Look, (Y/N), you don’t have to accept him or even be friends. But maybe you could just let him try and redeem himself. He seems genuinely sorry. And if you do that and then still tell him no, maybe then you could feel less conflicted about it.”

“I don’t know if you should do that,” Wooyoung cuts in.

Both you and Seonghwa turn to face him with confused looks. Out of the three of you, Wooyoung was the most realistic when it came to Yunho. Seonghwa wanted it to end up like a storybook romance, while you just wanted to never speak to Yunho ever again. Wooyoung had always been the voice of reason that maybe Yunho just didn’t mean it with malice and was the one to tell you to set a boundary with Yunho in the first place.

“Why not?” Seonghwa frowns, shifting so that he can face the two of you properly. “Out of us all, you’re probably the closest to him since you know his friend, San.”

Wooyoung snorts, waving his hands. “Just because I’m friends with San doesn’t mean I’m friends with Yunho. I just think if (Y/N) doesn’t want to have anything to do with Yunho, then that’s that.” He shrugs, leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn but Seonghwa isn’t letting it go.

“But I feel like it would be good for Yunho to learn how to properly apologise,” Seonghwa argues again. “He shouldn’t expect you to fall for him after he confesses right after an apology.”

You bite your lip and look at your hands clasped on your lap. Both of your friends have a good point, and to be honest, before Yunho had started bothering you, you didn’t hate him. In fact, every so often you had thought about inviting him to hang out with the three of you. You sigh again. “I’ll try. Just till the end of the school year, okay? When I see him with his friends he seems like a genuinely nice guy. Plus, wouldn’t it just make things awkward with you and San, Woo? San is one of Yunho’s closest friends after all.”

Wooyoung shrugs, still clearly unhappy but not willing to fight any longer. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? Yunho’s a cool guy, so I do hope he doesn’t screw it up.”

Seonghwa laughs. “Who knows? Maybe in the end, they’ll fall in love and get married and I’ll be the best man..”

You laugh and shove at him. “In your dreams. You just want to be in the wedding party.”

Seonghwa shrugs, leaning over to rustle your hair. “We all know it's true.”

“Oh, hi, Yunho.”

You didn't even have to find the tall blond this time. He's waiting by your locker. How did he even find out the number? You have no idea, and you’re not too sure you want to know.

“(Y/N), can I say something?” He holds out a bag with all the gifts you had left behind the previous week. “And you can honestly keep these. I don't like these candies anyway.”

“Uh. Sure? Thanks.” You take the plastic bag from his outstretched hands with only a little hesitation. “What's up?”

Yunho blinks, surprised at your willingness to listen, although he quickly composes himself. “Uh. My friend, San, told me I should apologise sincerely, not just saying sorry and then confessing.”

You can't help but smile at that—San and Seonghwa would probably make good friends. “Well, that would be appreciated,” you joke and Yunho’s body relaxes at your short laugh. “I can't fall in love if you go from bullying to loving.”

Both of you realise at the same moment how badly timed that joke was, but Yunho gracefully ignores that. “Would…would you like to go to the library with me after school today to work on finals?” Yunho almost whispers, as if he’s scared you would reject him. And at any time before today, you probably would’ve. But this time, you offer a small, unsure smile.

“Sure.”

And although your brain is screaming at you, your heart is telling you that this is not a mistake.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown close to Jeong Yunho. and his dumb smile. His jokes that somehow always make you laugh and also want to choke him out sometimes. Even your friend group has warmed up to him. Seonghwa still teases you in private about being with Yunho, but Wooyoung is just as friendly as ever and…also seems to be joining in with Seonghwa on the teasing. You’re not quite sure what to make of it.

But one problem still persists—the question of your secret admirer. The flowers have dwindled, although they’re still showing up. It’s almost finals week and you’re stressing out of your mind over the exams, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder to yourself if the person’s crush on you is dwindling. And why don’t you feel bad about it?

At first, you thought you liked them, whoever they are. You’d smile every time you see the flowers and you were genuinely relieved that your secret admirer wasn’t Yunho. But these days, you look at Yunho, and you wonder what would’ve happened if you had said yes to his confession. Would he hold you gently the way he holds your weekly bouquet to admire it?

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?” Wooyoung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his hand waving in front of your face.

“Ah– Sorry, Wooyoung. What’s up?”

“No, no, you seem distracted.” Wooyoung plops down in front of you, leaning onto your desk and looking up at you with his brows furrowed just slightly. “Is something wrong?”

You shrug. “It’s just that…I’m confused.” You sigh from your bones, propping your head up with your head. “I couldn’t stand Yunho for such a long time, and yet, these days I can’t seem to get enough of him. I look at him and I’m fond. I’m not looking at him and I’m fond. But what about my secret admirer? They’ve been constantly there for me just by giving me flowers. It’s always perked me up. But I don’t think I like them the way they want me to…the way I want to.”

Wooyoong frowns. “What do you mean, the way you want to? You can’t help it if you don’t have feelings for them. And sure, maybe you appreciate them, but it doesn’t mean you have to like them back. It’s not like you’re dating. Hell, you don’t even know who they are. Maybe they won’t give a shit, or maybe they’ll be disappointed but what can they do if they never told you?” He shrugs. “If you like Yunho, just go for it. He’s a nice guy, outside of how he treated you. And a little birdie may have told me that he still likes you.”

You nod, defeated and yet relieved. “That’s true. Hey, Wooyoung.” Your close friend cocks his head, looking at you with wide eyes. “Thank you for your advice. I do appreciate you keeping my head out of my ass and in line. I know I don’t say it enough to you and Seonghwa, but you guys are my closest friends and I love you guys.”

Wooyoung’s smile softens as he leans in to give you a warm hug. “Can’t leave you floundering by yourself, dumbass.”

You slap Wooyoung on the shoulder but don��t break the hug. “Fuck off, idiot. I hope you stub your toe today.” You pause. “Did Yunho really tell San he still likes me?”

You can’t stop pacing the park in front of the school. You asked Yunho to meet you there after the last day of classes, hoping to ask him out, but now you’re starting to regret it. What if Wooyoung and San were mistaken and Yunho no longer likes you? What if he just laughs in your face and tells you it was a farce for a last prank before your graduation? You bring your thumb up to your mouth, biting on the nail as you debate between just playing it off as wanting to go to the arcade, or whether you should suck it up and tell Yunho. Or you just ditch him here and go home and eat a big tub of ice cream. The choice is yours.

You’re about three steps into your last plan of leaving when a warm hand grasps your wrist. “Hey, sorry it took me so long,” a familiar low voice hums. “San needed to talk to me. Hey, did you know–”

“Can I ask you–”

The two of you pause before giggling at the cliche interruption. “You go first,” you offer. “I want to hear the tea.” You wriggle your eyebrows at Yunho, making your friend snort.

“Did you know San likes Wooyoung?”

You blink for a moment before a grin breaks out on your face. “Oh, really? That’s so cute! I don’t know San well, but I know Wooyoung’s pretty fond of him. Hopefully it works out for them!” You’re pretty sure you’re practically sparkling from hearing about this. Wooyoung has always been the single one in your friend group—Seonghwa’s dating this one girl from a different area and they’ve been happy for years, and you’ve had on-and-off partners through the years. It would be nice if he finally liked someone.

Yunho nods, pleased. “I hope so too. They would be cute together. Anyways, what did you want to ask me?”

Ah. You’re pretty sure you’re looking a little sick from how Yunho’s barely hiding his concern behind his eyes. “Uh. So. I changed my mind. See you at graduation!” And hopefully never again.

But before you can back out like a coward and never face Yunho again, you catch a twinkle in his eyes and a knowing smile and you immediately have a sinking feeling in your gut. If your fears are confirmed, you’ll make sure to write a nice eulogy for your friend. “...What did Wooyoung tell San and what did San tell you?”

Yunho chuckles. “Same as what San told Wooyoung, who told you.” His smile somehow grows even larger. “Honestly, the only reason I haven’t killed San yet is because I’d like to see him and Wooyoung get together.”

Your eyes narrow. “Well, I’m not sparing Wooyoung that same courtesy. I sure hope San’s able to keep Wooyoung alive.” You turn away, ready to find Wooyoung to beat him up but the grip that you forgot Yunho had on your wrist tightens and he tucks you into a back hug, his other arm wrapping around your waist.

It feels like time stops as you can hardly breathe when Yunho’s chin rests on your shoulder. “You can fight Wooyoung later, but I think something is slightly more important than that.” And before you can say anything, Yunho spins you around and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Now it really feels like time has stopped for you, but all you can do is stare up at him with your face slowly heating up until you feel you may melt. “Uh,” is all you manage to eloquently say, but Yunho just smiles, waiting for you to gather your thoughts while looking at you softly. “Uh. I think that slightly is a bit of an understatement.”

Yunho bursts out laughing at your admission, leaning in again until his nose brushes against yours. “There’s the (Y/N) I know and love. May I kiss you again?”

You’re pretty sure he can feel the heat radiating off your face, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you nod before whispering out a ‘yes’. And, before you can even blink, his plush lips are on yours again. It feels like a daydream, but as your hands come up to cup Yunho’s face, you smile into the kiss and feel at home in his arms.

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