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corruptedmind · 2 years

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Really, dude? [Leo Valdez]

Genre : Fluff, Funny

Summary : Y/N has had a crush on Leo since the moment she saw him. They were best friends now. What happens when she tries to confess her love for him?

"How about no?"

"How about yes-"

"No Leo. I will NOT help you make vibrators to sell them online and get money"

"But imagine the amount of money we'll get. We could buy new shoes and-"

"Shut up before I tell this to Percy and make him drown you in the camp's lake for corrupting me"

"You're the most disgusting minded creature I know, woman"

"But does HE know?".

Leo sighed in defeat. He knew I won this argument too, like I did always. He had this stupid idea to make vibrators and illegally sell it to people outside camp so he could get money and buy a new playstation.

Being his best friend, it was his job to annoy me and pull me in in all of his antics.

Some of them were good, and I would gladly accept making vibrators but if anyone found out we'd be in more trouble than usual.

"Why don't we just hang out near the lake for the day?", I asked.

"The same lake your brother was supposed to drown me in?", He raised an eyebrow and put a hand on his hip.

"Oh my Gods you're so smart, McShizzle Man Daddy Leo", I said in a high pitched voice trying to mock him.

"See lady, when you say that it isn't hot-"

"You sound like this though"

"No, I don't. I sound hot"

"You sound like a bitch"

"A hot bitch"

"An ugly bitch actually-"

"Y/N! LEO! THERE YOU ARE!!". Both of us turned behind to see Jason running towards us with a small smile. His blonde hair swept behind as he ran. His purple shirt tight against his muscles.

"Stop eye-fucking him, Y/N. He's already taken", Leo whispered into my ear.

I looked at him and smirked, "Don't worry. I'm into scrawny guys".

"Wait really-"

"Hey Y/N, Leo". Jason finally reached us and softly panted. He brushed his hair to the side and gave his respectful smile.

"Wassup?", Leo and I both said it in unison, but that was a natural occurrance.

We're best friends, we share one braincell.

"Percy and I decided to hangout at the Posiedon Cabin. We wanted you to come too", Jason looked at me and said.

"You're not gonna invite me?", Leo gave a fake hurt expression.

"It's a hangout for the seven of us, and we decided to invite Y/N too"

"You're going to invite me in my own Cabin?", I raised my eyebrow at Jason, making the boy beside me laugh.

"I-"

"We'll come, but we also have to go to the lake before the night", Leo cut him off and took my hand.

"Someone's getting jealous", I wiggled my eyebrows as we both set off in the other direction.

"No man can let my mamacita look at them like that", He crossed his arm and winked at me.

I laughed loudly and patted his arm. Just as I was about to comment something back, his sister Nyssa called him.

"Hey Leo! We need your help in making the new catapults!!", She said as she hulled a sheet of celestial bronze over her shoulders.

Leo looked back at me. "I'll see you later, Ma'am", he bid his farewell with bowing down and hopping off to his sister.

I smiled at his retreating figure with loving eyes. He was truly the best person I had met. From his cute features and charming personality, falling in love with him was easy.

"He's so oblivious, yknow", I heard a voice from behind me. I turned to find Piper and Jason standing side by side with their eyes on Leo who was now going back to his cabin.

"No, Pipes. I'm just good at being platonic"

"You flirt with him mercilessly"

"Which shows how platonic we are"

"Y/N, you should confess-"

"No, Piper". I cut her off. "After Calypso, I don't think he's ready yet". My arms circled around me as I give myself a hug.

"It's be a YEAR, Y/N", Jason softly said.

I just shook my head at him sadly and looked at his cabin. The nights where he cried in my arms, lonely and betrayed after his sudden break-up hurt me alot.

Calypso had broken up with him at dinner. She didn't explain at that time, and that hollowed Leo up. He wasn't okay after that. Calypso had left camp the next day and that left Leo's head filled with doubts.

I knew that if we ever got together, Leo would just hurt himself more.

"Lets just go and have lunch". I started walking away with my head down.

***

Lunch had finished in a blink of an eye with Percy talking on and on about how Finding Nemo and The Little Mermaid were the best movies in existence.

The talk from before had drained away my happiness and left me numb. I didn't eat much, but i didn't care. My fear for Leo's feelings increased with each passing moment.

Percy opened the door in front of me, snapping me out of my daze. As I entered my cabin, I saw Annabeth and Piper setting up the sofa with a bunch of board games. Drinks and popcorns and chips were set on the table beside.

Just as I sat on the couch with my knees up to my chest, a loud voice came from the door. I turned around and saw the rest of the guys come in. Frank entered first with a look of regret on his face with Hazel and Jason following him with small smiles. Just behind him a scrawny guy popped in laughing loudly

Instantly my mood became better.

Leo must have teased Frank making him pinch the bridge of his nose and silently sit by my side. Frank turned his head to me and frowned.

"Out of all the guys at camp.... You choose him???", He whispered.

I gave him a big smile, "Yes Zhang. Yes".

Leo then instantly came beside me and pushed Frank to the other side of the couch and sat beside me. "Hey Mama, long time no see", he wiggled his eyebrows making me laugh.

"Yes, and I missed you very much", I said and rested my head on his shoulder.

I felt him stiffen under me, but just a second later he loosened up. Resting his back on the couch, he became comfortable by my side.

"You okay, Y/N?", He softly asked me, not to get any attention.

"Not really. But after you came I feel better", I confessed.

Leo didn't reply back, but I could feel him smiling big.

Minutes later, Percy decided we all play Uno. In short, it was a mess.

Piper used charmspeak on all of us and Hazel used her magic mist to fool us what card she had. In the end Annabeth won with all the guys whining.

We played another game of Uno, but now without the three girls. I sat in beside Leo in the circle and continued my game. Though it was absolutely chaotic, with Percy and Leo continuously cheating, I loved having Leo beside me.

Two hours had gone by. We'd ended playing charades in which we had a girls vs boys match.

Of course the girls won.

As the hours went on, I naturally came to Leo's side without him questioning me. We comfortably sat on the couch with his legs over mine.

"Ahhh I had fun today", I heard Leo say softly.

Turning my head towards him I smiled, "Yeah. It was good. But look at the time, I guess we'll have to go to the beach tomorrow".

Leo suddenly pushed his face towards me and looked at me with wide eyes. In shock, I pulled my face back and stared at him back with my own wide eyes.

"Lady, when have we ever followed the rules of this camp? You literally sneaked out with me a bazillion times to go to Bunker 9. What's stopping us now?", He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I laughed and pushed his face away from mine. "You make sense. So.... After dinner?", I proposed.

"Meet me there by 10", Leo winked at me as the conch horn blew for dinner.

Of course I blushed at his small action, but thankfully he didn't see me as he stood up at the sound of the horn.

"LET'S GO DEEP THROAT OURSELVES WITH SOME FOOD YO", Leo cheered and ran out of the cabin to the dining pavillion.

Just as I was about to follow him out, I heard Annabeth calling me. "Hey Y/N".

"Yeah?", I turned back to see her and the rest of the guys looking at me with concern.

"I don't wanna seem nosey, but will you ever confess to him about your love?", She frowned.

Of course she wanted to talk to me about this.

"I don't know, Annabeth. But at the moment, this is the best option-"

"Please, I'm no daughter of Athena but that is the best option", Hazel got up from her seat and looked at me right in the eye. "We all can see how much the both of you like eachother".

"T-The both...of us??", I tilted my head.

What did she mean by 'the both of us'?.

"Yes. The BOTH of you. I know you both spend more time with eachother than what we see, but all the moments we both see of you I know Leo likes you back. Heck, I feel like you're all on his mind", She explained.

I looked down at my hands. Suddenly feeling insecure about myself as I remembered who was Leo's first girlfriend.

It was a Goddess for fuck's sake!!!

I remembered how beautiful she was when she was still at camp. Her beautiful long blonde hair that rested by her face perfectly. Her almond eyes that could make anyone dreamy. Her pouty lips that made her look like a doll.

I had none of that, and that was what Leo fell in love with.

His standards were too high, and I didn't even reach it.

"I don't really know, guys. He fell in love with Calypso who broke up with him out of the blue. If we were to ever date, then he'll just be too paranoid about me leaving him", I softly said.

My mood that was once good, going down the drain abruptly.

"But you'd never leave him. He just has to learn to trust you, and that's something you both have to work on", This time, Percy was the one to speak.

It was rare to have him give any advice, but I knew what he said was right. A relationship works only when both the partners work together, and Percy had alot of experience with Annabeth throughout the years.

I looked down and nodded, a sudden burst of motivation flowing through me.

"I'll confess to him tonight. When we're at the beach", I announced with confidence.

"But won't the harpies be there?", Frank asked looking around.

"Don't worry, Y/N. You go ahead with no worries. We have your back", Jason got up and smiled. "Now let's go to eat, we're getting late".

***

Dinner was done fast, with all of us sitting in our respectful tables since it was dinner.

At about 8, we all head back to our cabins for the night, but with my plan to confess to Leo, Percy and I were up.

"So, should I wear this?", I held up a red frock in my hands and directed it towards Percy.

He was laying down on his bed propped up on his elbow. "Little Sister, you're not going on a date, you're going to a hangout", he yawned.

"But I'm gonna PROPOSE-"

"But does he know about it?", Percy raised his eyebrow.

I sighed in defeat and sagged down on my bed. It was 9:30 now, and thirty minutes were left for me to meet the love of my life.

"Hey Y/N", I heard Percy call me out.

"Mmm?", I grumbled.

"Wear anything you want. Keep it simple and probably put on something you know he would like", he said from his bed.

"He likes the colour red", I stated.

"That's why you took out your red frock....", I could hear the smirk in my brother's voice.

"I know, stupid. I'll just wear a hoodie with some sweatpants. I don't think he'll really care".

"Don't you have one of his hoodies with you...?", Percy finally sat up and looked at me with bright eyes.

My eyes widened in realisation. I got up from my bed and walked up to my wardrobe to find one of Leo's favourite red hoodie he had given me one night when we were at bunker 9.

"I like what you think, brother. Now I shall go change". I picked the hoodie up with my black sweatpants and went to the bathroom for a quick body bath.

I brushed my teeth and put my hair up in a messy ponytail. I didn't put any perfume on, since the scent of Leo was already driving me crazy.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I blushed crazily.

I was going to fucking CONFESS to a boy!!!

ASGHSJDLDLDLFJKFLGLKFKKSKSJSHSKAJDJD

I rubbed my cheeks and went out of the bathroom to find Nico lying on my bed as Annabeth laid beside Percy.

Annabeth noticed me coming out of the bathroom and smiled. She then looked at Nico, "I called him to shadow travel you safely to Leo".

"Yo", I greeted the emo boy.

He simply nodded his head and got up from my bed.

Nico and I too were very close friends after I found out about how he had a crush on Percy. It always made me crack how Percy just wasn't Nico's type.

"Come on, Nicola. We have a boy to confess to", I said as I put on my vans.

"I've already confessed to my boy. And please, stop calling me that", He groaned.

"What? Nicola???", I smirked.

"I will cut your breasts off-"

"Okay! Let's go Death boy", I cut him off and dragged him out of the cabin.

Soon, we were in the shadows.

I didn't necessarily hate shadow travelling, but it's side effects were horrible. Though we had just traveled a small distance, I felt nauseous and lied down on the ground.

I was about to thank Nico but he disappeared as soon he left me. I scoffed and got up from the ground, making my way to the beach.

The sound of the waves made me smile, and the smell of the sea water calmed me down.

This was my element, and I loved it here.

As I smacked a branch away to see the sea, my eyes landed on Leo who sat on the sand. The moon was right in front of us, with stars shining brightly above us.

I smiled and walked towards the scrawny boy.

"Hey Leo", I greeted and sat down beside him.

He looked at me and smiled, not responding back. The look in his eyes was enough to tell me he was thinking about something. And that something wasn't good.

"You wore my hoodie", he stated.

"I love this hoodie", I smiled at him.

"Hmm", he hummed and looked up at the stars.

His eyebrows suddenly turned into a frown as his eyes scanned the sky. It seemed like a memory passed in his mind, reminding him of something bitter.

Why would a beach make him sad?

Just as I thought that, I remembered he and Calypso met at an island, a beach... Maybe he was remembering his days with her on the same background.

"Are you.... still thinking of... her?", I hesitantly asked.

Leo let out a deep sigh, his eyes becoming cloudy. "No matter how much time goes by, I'll still think WHY she left me. Was I seriously THAT bad that she had to leave so fast? Did I really treat her so horribly that she broke up with me in front of the entire camp?".

I simply listened to him as he spoke, denying his words in my mind.

His voice wavered as he took in a sharp breath.

A moment of silence past through us, the sounds of the waves only being heard. I decided to break it.

"I don't really know where you came up with all these thoughts but we all know those are all lies", I started. "You were probably the best boyfriend to her, so caring and loving and considerate. You were the first one to be there for her in THOUSANDS of years. I can't really say why she broke up with you, maybe she has her own reasons. But what I know that it isn't even one that you said".

Leo looked at me, the stars shining in his eyes. He really looked pretty tonight. His hair naturally ruffled, with a small stain of grease on his cheekbone. His elfish ears poking out from his hair.

"I don't.... I don't really know what I would do without you, Y/N", he said softly.

"Haha we were meant to be", I joked looking away, a small blush appearing on my cheeks.

Leo then stood up, stretching a hand to help me up. I took it and dusted my pants as I got up.

"Let's take a walk", Leo announced and took my hand in his.

I gladly intertwined our fingers and went closer to his side, know him making the first move was very rare. I smiled by his side as we took slow steps, a comfortable silence hanging over us.

I was sure we had walked for about fifteen minutes, but I really didn't care. Being by his side alone in silence was the best thing I could wish for. Though not possible, I snuggled further into his side, making him chuckle.

I rested my chin on his shoulder and looked at his face. He was seriously very beautiful. Each curve and bump made my heart beat faster. His eyes drowned me further into the love I held for him. His nose just seemed more kissable that night. His lips twisted my stomach, building fantasies in my mind.

"Gods you're beautiful", I muttered softly.

Leo looked at me in shock and then pointed at his chest. "Me?", He asked.

I simply nodded and smiled at him. Under the moonlight, I could see his ears getting red.

"You're also very cute, señor bonito".

"Where are you getting these Spanish words from, señorita", Leo flushed.

"I've been learning", I said.

"Spanish?"

"Anything for you, baby", I winked at him.

Leo blushed agressively. "You're becoming too much like me".

I laughed heartily and walked ahead, dragging Leo with me. We walked for a few more minutes till a different atmosphere settled around us.

Our pace slowed down till we stopped and faced the sea. Our eyes lingered at the small waves coming to the shore.

It slowly dawned to that it was time.

It was time to tell Leo about my feelings.

Though I was absolutely nervous and my heart bet faster than when I faced monsters, I tugged Leo's hand to face me. He turned and tilted his head cutely.

A second went by as we just stared, but then I did it.

I kneeled down in front of him as my left hand went in my pocket while my right held his.

His eyes were wide in shock, but I didn't let that stop me.

"Leo Valdez, Son of Esperanza Valdez. I am here today, or tonight, to tell you about something important", I started. But the moment I found my flow, I let my heart control me. The love I held for Leo from the moment I laid eyes on him finally were free.

"I remember the day I had come to camp, after being rescued by Jason in my school. You were there, talking with Harley about something he wanted to know. You seemed so passionate about what you loved, and I understood that when I sneaked into the forest that night to find you in bunker 9, building. I couldn't believe how we immediately clicked after the first words we shared, and how fast I felt connected with you."

"I was heartbroken when I saw you and Calypso kiss, but that day I understood that what I felt towards you wasn't a simple crush, but true love. To see you happy with her made my day. Just to see you genuinely happy and smiling made ME genuinely happy and smiling. I never expected myself to experience such healthy love towards a person who was already dating. But the day she broke up with you was one of the worst days I'd experienced. I felt so much rage towards her for leaving you. All I could see was you crying in my arms. I hated her, Leo. But I just couldn't blame her"

"After that day I started feeling us getting closer. Not physically, but emotionally. At those times I knew the love I held for you was correct, because you never made me feel bad. You understood me in ways no one ever had. You embraced my weird self, and slowly molded into my other half. Leo, it was YOU who made me feel loved and happy. You being you made it so easy to love you back, and I know that I'll keep loving you no matter where your heart lies"

"Tonight, I don't want you to force yourself to love me back, but tonight's the night where you get to know how LOVED you are. If you don't like me back, that's really okay. But please know, that I will always stay by your side no matter way. Leo Valdez, I am absolutely in love with you. Will you please be my lover till eternity?"

Finally, as I regained control over myself, I looked up at Leo.

Tears were streaming down his face and I heard him ugly sobbing. He agressively wiped his nose with his hand as his chest rises up and down.

Worried, I got up and cupped his face. "If my speech of love was that bad, you could just say so. No need to cry", I said wiping his tears away.

His eyes locked to mine, and the next moment he was embracing. "Y/N, you have no idea what you make me feel. I really can't believe a person is capable of making me feel so... Needed. I-... You're seriously the bestest friend I've ever had", he sniffled.

Oh....

So I'm being rejected.

"I'll keep being your best friend no matter what, Leo. You're my official permanent buddy", I said making him laugh.

He pulled away from the hug and cupped my cheeks in his long hands. He smiled softly and scanned my face. "Thank you for everything, Y/N. Thank you for being their at my worst. Thank you for making me feel loved. Everytime you stood by my side, I just fell harder for you".

.....huh?

"Yes, Y/N. I love you too. And I'd love to be your lover for eternity", He spoke with a wide smile on his face.

His confession made my ears burn, my heart race against my chest. I looked at him with wide eyes.

"Is that a yes?", I asked.

Leo laughed, "Yes, it is".

I broke away from him and laughed, my own tears coming out of my eyes. Two years of loving him, and finally he was mine.

"I love you, Leo Valdez", I said.

"I love you too, Y/N", he responded.

His hand circled my waist, pulling me close to him. At the close distance, I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine was.

"Can I kiss you, mi amor?", His accent slipped out, making me blush.

I looked up at him and let myself smile. Getting up on my tip toes, I leaned in to carefully set my lips on his. A shot of electricity passed through my body, though the touch was so soft.

My eyes closed down, and Leo pressed into me. We didn't move, we just stayed like that. Lip to lip, as our love finally reached to the other. Breaking away to get breath, I looked at him again.

"I forgot to tell you, but you look very fuckable in my hoodie, Y/N", He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Really, dude? Not even five minutes since we confessed"

"You love me like that, though".

"True true".

"So....now what?", He asked looking around.

An idea sparked in my head. "I tell everyone you rejected me and then we make out at lunch in front of everyone".

"Oh I have the most perfect girlfriend".

#pjo #HoO #Leo #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez fanfiction #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #piper mclean #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #nico di angelo #fluff #funny #fanfic stories #fanfiction #pjo fanfic

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jesssssssssica · 1 year

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strangers max, that’s all we had to be. we could’ve, no should’ve just ignored each other in the paddock and yet we didn’t. why?

why couldn’t we have just left each other alone and just thought of each other as just another face in the crowd? i know we’d be much happier if we had left it at that. but we didn’t and we were such idiots.

we were meant to be strangers, nothing more nothing less. that’s what we were meant to be, we were meant to be just two stars that shined in the same sky but did not do anything with each other. we were meant to just get on with our lives and not remember each other and just continue to love our partners and yet we couldn’t.

instead we were like two magnets and we couldn’t help but speak to each other, reeling each other in and get infatuated with one another by our words, hell i was hooked by your first hello.

we were at the most meant to be just two friends that chatted occasionally, not two people rushing away to cleaning closets and kissing each other so quickly that it was as if our lips had barely touched yet held so much meaning.

we were meant to be two people who were both in a happy and healthy relationship. two people that were dedicated to showing their partner they loved them, not two people that would think of the other whilst lying in the bed of the one that was dedicated to them and them only.

though it was wrong we didn’t feel bad when we were cuddled up in each other's arms, blocking out the world around us, but we did feel the guilt pulsing through our veins when we would meet at an event, arms around our partner, wearing the fake smile and using the fake laugh. no, it wasn’t fair to them, especially when they thought we were just friends, no not even that when they thought we were just two strangers.

i remember whispering frantically down the phone to you max, about how we should just call everything off. i remember how you tried to comfort me as best as you could even though you were so far away, telling me things that warmed my heart and yet at the same time made me want to throw something in anger. why when i need to push away from you, must you always make me want to come running back to you? god, i must sound like a teenage girl going through her first real relationshi-.

first real relationship. that’s what lando is to me, my first real relationship, one that started when we were thirteen to now when we were twenty-three. god, what a fun decade that’s been. i remember how i was so in love with him that i would speak about you constantly with my friends and the number of times i spoke to them friends about him must’ve driven them up the walls sometimes.

i remember how when we were twelve, he liked some other girl and i was so devastated that i cut my hair short, just like hers and instead of making it shoulder length, i cut it to just below my ears, making it look like a bob. of course i was in tears because of my new hairdo that i nearly forgot about the whole “lando’s in love with another girl” but then he sat down next to me and hugged me and said “your hair looks nice like that”. that was the day i knew i was in love.

i remember how when i was nineteen when lando was really going through the ranks, i was so jealous of all the beautiful women that would always cheer him on and touch his arm whilst laughing obnoxiously. i hated that and yet lando would always be there for me, whispering sweet nothings to me, reminding me that no matter what he would always be there as long as i was there for him.

he was lando norris. my lando norris. the first boy to ever tell me that he loved me. lando norris who would make me laugh even on the darkest days. lando norris who would make me go mad, making me scream and shout till i was on the verge of losing my voice and yet would always manage to calm and soothe me. lando norris who swore when we were fifteen that he would marry me one day and that as soon as he was able to buy the perfect ring then he would propose. the lando norris that will forever be in my heart, my soulmate.

now look at me, betraying the one person i know loves me for everything that i am, the one that’s been there with me through my highs and lows whilst i sleep with men that aren’t him, making him believe that i’m just out having a girl's night.

even though i’m doing this behind his back over and over again, i still love him. am i fucked in the head? maybe. how can i still love a man and yet put him through such pain?

he can never find out. we’re just strangers max that’s it and even though every time i look into your eyes and am forced to remember everything we did, we have to pretend we’re just two strangers, nothing more, nothing less.

for lando and for kelly.

even though i feel so much pain whenever i see you and her share a quick peck, lando always seems to be the medicine i need to make me feel better, better than anyone can ever make me feel.

and even though i feel so happy when you tell me you would give up everything that you have with kelly for me, i’m always reminded that it’s not possible, it’s just not. we’d never be happy, not really and there is a limit to how many smiles you can fake without reaching your breaking point and we’d be the people to discover just how high that number is.

so maybe we should stop, as much as i love our meetings in secret, the thrill of sneaking around, we have to stop. not just for lando and kelly but for ourselves.

because i’m in love with lando and i always will. what we had was great but it’s made me realise that we were just two people that just needed a bit of fresh air before returning back to their lives. i will always remember what we had, how you would always kiss me with so much passion and how you would always take care of me first, you’ll always be there in the back of my mind.

and maybe someday i will tell lando about the stranger that i snuck around with but i will never tell him it was you.

because to me you are just a stranger.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen angst #lando norris imagine #lando norris angst #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 imagines

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tomholland1996simp · 2 years

Note

Could you do one where Tom decides to prank reader by locking her in a closet or something but doesn’t know she’s claustrophobic

Claustrophobic || Tom holland

Warning: Panic attack, tears

This is short sorry

Summary: You and Tom have been best friends for a very long time now. You are very close to the Holland’s, you even have started a little prank war. However when the brothers try to prank you by locking you in the closet, it doesn’t go to plan.

You don’t even know when the pranks even started. But they eventually got serious and escalated from there. At first you wasn’t involved, until one day, by accident, you got pranked by Tom instead of Harry who was meant to fall over the marbles on the floor. Obviously you was the one who had to run through the hallway and fall. Tom did apologise multiple of times, but you wanted to get him back.

Now you were all waiting for someone to pull the next prank. The last prank was one you and Tom had done on Harry. You both had taped clingfilm to the door entrance so when Harry would run in he would run into it. And Of course he believed the fake shouting about Tom needing help. He ran straight into it, it pulling him back harshly throwing him back and onto the floor. To say he was angry was an understatement.

You was now sitting in the kitchen on one of the tall stalls, talking to Nikki with a cup of tea in your hands. Nikki was like a mother to you, she knew everything about your problems or your needs.

“So I was thinking into looking for a apartment” You told her, you now being eighteen meaning you should be able to afford one soon with your job.

“That’s amazing sweetheart, do you know if it would be close by?” She asked, standing across from me with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ve actually seen one near here in Kingston. It’s small but it’s perfect for me. I’ll let you know if I look into buying it then you can come look at it in person with me if you want?” I take a sip from my tea.

“I would love to come. Would be nice for you to finally live by yourself”

“Yeah I was also-“ You we’re cut off by the feeling of someone’s hands pulling your waist, you instantly let go of your tea placing it down. You simply thought one of the boys were giving you a hug, when your head turns to the side you see a smirking Tom. “Stop-Tom No! I’m trying to have a conversation” You scream as he picks you up from the stall, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Darling it’s prank time” He smirked as you kicked about.

“I’m so sorry Nikki!” You shout as he started to walk up the stairs. “Thomas put me down!” You start punching his back as he walks up the last couple of steps. You then hear giggle from the top, you turning around a little to see Harry, Sam and Paddy.

“Oh look who it is. y/n. This should stop your little pranks” Harry smirked as Tom put you down, still keeping his hands on my waist.

You were all in the hallway so you was confused on what they was going to do. Then Paddy opened the small closet behind you, making your eyes widen.

The closet was very small, it just had some cleaning products and random things inside. “No, No. STOP” You yell as they start to push you into the small closet, them being stronger so you were now inside.

“We will let you out in 5 minutes” Tom told you before slowly closing the small doors. You bashing it right after, panicking looking around the tight space.

The boys didn’t know this but you was extremely claustrophobic. You hated tight spaces, they always brought panic attacks and made you feel like you couldn’t breathe.

“Tommy! L-let me out! I-I can’t breathe” You start to feel your breathing get heavier as you spoke, kicking the small doors with your legs. “PLEASE LET ME OUT” You cry.

You felt like the walls were closing in on you, like there was no oxygen in the small room. Your chest kept falling up and down as you tried to slow your breaths, but more tears came out.

“I-I can’t breathe. P-please let me out. Tommy!” You sob once more, the boys then caught on hearing your cries. They didn’t open it at first as they thought you was joking about with them. You had now been in there for 2 minutes, your panic attack starting.

Tom worryingly opened the small door, looking inside to see if you would laugh and say it’s a joke. But when he saw your tear stained cheeks, while body shaking and hearing your heavy breathing, he knew it wasn’t a lie. He quickly pulled you out, feeling guilty as ever.

“I’m so sorry, love. Shit. Breathe, y/n, Breathe” He cooed trying to help you, your sobs just escaping more. He looked towards his brothers and they had the same expression as him, guilt.

You couldn’t control your breathing at all. “T-tom.. I-I can’t breathe.” You cried once more into his chest feeling the same feeling as before.

“What’s going on?!” Nikki walked up the stairs hearing all the commotion going on. She saw you in Toms arms, having a panic attack.

Harry spoke up, “W-we wanted to prank her we locked her in that closet for a joke-“ Nikki interrupted him thinking about how stupid her sons are. “She’s claustrophobic how did you not know that!” She panicked looking at her idiotic sons for letting this happen.

“y/n look at me…breathe” Tom told you holding your face in your hands.

“I-I can’t.” you finally looked into his eyes, calming a little just by them.

“H-hey. It’s me, Tommy. Focus on my breathing. Take a deep breathe in…and out. In….out” He repeated this with you a few times until you had finally calmed down. Your head buried in his chest. “I’m so sorry darling, we didn’t know you was claustrophobic“ He kissed the top of your head.

“i-it’s okay Tommy. You guys didn’t know-thanks” You smiled taking the glass of water Nikki brought from downstairs for you.

“Just very small in there” You chuckle a little trying to make light of the situation.

“Boys how long was she in there for!” Nikki had her hands on her hips waiting for one of her sons to answer.

“2 and a half minutes?” Paddy said scared of what his mum expression would be, it wasn’t a good one.

“You dickheads, you should’ve let me out when I first said. I was literally crying and you lot just laughed holding that fucking door” You tell them.

“We’re so sorry y/n” They all apologied again feeling really guilty.

You couldn’t stay mad at them, there too cute, especially Tom. “It’s okay guys. I’m just out with this prank wars now, it’s getting a bit frustrating” You all chuckle in agreement by that comment.

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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years

Text

DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER - MATT MURDOCK

one - criminal

// tags: @ironprincessstranger //mad at god (s1)// two // masterlist

Pairing: Unofficial Matt Murdock x Reader (DD X Vigilante!Reader)

Word Count: 8,810

Summary: With Wilson Fisk in the past, Exodus tries to move forward without Daredevil. But a strange meeting leads to potentially another threat… Or maybe an ally.

“How you feeling?” Karen asked as you plopped on your couch.

“Exhausted. It’s hot even at night.” You sighed and threw your mask to your coffee table. “And avoiding Daredevil is harder than I thought it would. He’s everywhere.”

“So stop avoiding him and talk it out.” She laughed. “After all, isn’t he your friend?”

“No.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. “Well, not anymore. I’m still mad at him. All he had to do was mind his damn business for one night. One night! But noooo… If he hadn’t gotten in my way, I could’ve-“ You groaned and rubbed a hand across your face. “I could’ve made sure that Fisk was done. For good. Мертвый и ушел.” (Dead and gone.)

“You’re mad at him but you still wear the suit he gave you?” She raised a brow in playful accusation.

“It's very light and breathable and the- the- the plates are really strong and-” You tried to defend but the look she gave you made you laugh. “Okay, shut up!” You complained with a grin as you unzipped the top and threw it on the table with a huff.

“Look, Fisk is locked up.” She reassured gently. “You did that. Isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah, but do you really think it’ll last? I’m sorry but I just can’t shake this looming feeling that he’ll be back…” You turned to face her. “With that kind of money and influence, he can buy the best lawyers in the state and get off scot-free.”

“You and the boys won’t work for him though.” She tried. “And you’re the best lawyers I know.”

“I’m not a lawyer… Not yet at least.”

“You thinking of going back to school?”

“No, I already finished school. And I took the Bar Exam. All my t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted. I’m just waiting for everything to be official and come in the mail.”

“Oh my god. Y/N! That’s incredible! The guys don’t know?”

“No. I did my last few classes online while I was in London, picking up odd jobs with a friend. When I had to leave him, I came here and took my exam, finished the last few steps in the process… Should be coming in any day now, but I think I put the London address cause I didn’t plan on staying. I’ll have to call the guy I got the place from and have him send it over.”

“How could you not tell them?”

You raised your brows and gestured to your Widow suit, emphasizing your point by flicking the Red Room emblem.

“There’s a lot I don’t tell them, Karen.” You deadpanned.

“Okay, fair point.” She laughed. “But you have to tell them this!” She insisted with a wide smile.

“I know, I know. I probably will…”

“Probably? Y/N, they’d be so proud of you!”

“It’s just not a very pressing conversation topic lately.. Besides, they like to tease me about being half a lawyer… Which actually reminds me, I want a promotion.”

“Wait.” She chuckled slightly. “You want to downplay your success for the sake of your male friends’ egos? Since when!?”

“It’s not for their egos.” You laughed. “It’s just- I don’t know, easier? They’ll wanna make me a partner and put my name on the firm and I just- It kinda feels like one of those group projects where someone slaps their name on it so they don’t fail, even though they hardly contributed..”

“You deserve it, Y/N. You should tell them.”

“When the fancy stuff gets here, I will. I’ll even let you guys throw me a party.” You nodded and you held up a hand with your pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise.”

She faked a gasp. “So serious. You can’t break these, yknow.” She joked and hooked her small finger around

yours.

“I am aware, yes.” You giggled. “But for now, starting tomorrow, I’m a paralegal slash disabilities assistant. I know and do too much around there to not be a paralegal.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The next day at the office was full of small cases, civil suits that seemed a bit silly to you but Nelson and Murdock helped the little guy. You and Karen worked to get them organized and in some sort of a queue for when the boys arrived. You had just gotten everyone settled when you were able to take a breath and pull your hair up.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” You commented when they finally walked through the doors. “Let me guess. He-“ You gestured towards Matt “-fell in a hole and you-“ You gestured to Foggy. “-had to fish him out, leaving your office manager and your favorite paralegal to handle everything.”

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Foggy nodded with a smile. “Morning, Karen.”

“Hey guys.” She answered absently as she sorted some files.

“Paralegal?” Matt asked, stopping his steps to his office. He turned to you with a lazy, amused smile.

“As of this morning.” You nodded with a smile.

“That can only mean that you’re back on the lawyer train.” Foggy said proudly. “Nelson, Murdock, and Y/L/N is back in action.”

“Stop it.” You pointed to Foggy, who put his hands up in surrender. “It doesn’t mean anything as of right now.”

“Means a lot.” Matt said gently, reaching out to give your elbow a gentle squeeze. “So, what have we got?”

“Little bit of everything.” You said with a chuckle. “Karen?”

“Mr. Marino’s dog was viciously beaten by his neighbor after the dog um- “ She began and cleared her throat awkwardly, to which you chuckled. “-defiled the neighbor’s statue of St. Francis.”

You covered your mouth to hide your giggles as Matt laughed through his response.

“Defiled?” His brows raised playfully.

“Humped repeatedly until completion.” She answered with the same awkwardness.

“To the patron saint of animals, no less.” You playfully scolded, making Matt chuckle.

“How dare he?” Matt said with a grin.

“That is a dog I want to defend.” Foggy nodded, offering Mr. Marino a thumbs up.

“And then Mr. Maxwell was attacked in a bar fight last night.” You continued, pointing to the slightly roughed up biker.

“He started it.” Maxwell defended.

“I already called Metro General and the guy’s gonna recover, but if we start to lean towards a trial, it’s gotta wait till his jaw is unwired.”

“Your girl’s a badass.” Maxwell said proudly, looking at Matt more than Foggy.

“You’re not wrong.” You laughed, rubbing the mark ove ryour eyebrow.

The gashes from your mask jamming into you during your fight with Fisk were mostly healed, now just discolored scars that weren’t as long as they originally had been. Lucky for you, you could hide the cuts with makeup until they started to shrink and you could come up with an excuse. As far as the boys knew, one was caused by a broken zipper on your dress and the other was the dewclaw of a stray dog.

“And Miss Jacinto just got her third denial of working papers. Dad’s gone and factory work is all she has for her family… Karen pulled her DOE applications but I think we can do better.”

“Good, cause we will.” Matt nodded and stepped into his office, you and your friends following behind.

Foggy paused to acknowledge the small table of bananas and pie, giving an enthusiastic response after Karen explained it. You shut the door most of the way once everyone was in, knowing what conversation was coming next.

“So I had installed this free trial accounting software on my computer and um..” Karen began while you stepped around the group to sit on the edge of Matt’s desk. “We’re broke as in, our income can’t cover our bills.”

“We’ll manage.” Matt said optimistically with a shrug. “I don’t know how but I know we will.”

“Optimism isn’t enough, Matt.” You said simply. “I love what we do here but we can’t do it much longer if we go into debt.”

“I know but-“

“I can make a few calls.” You offered. “I know some people who can help. They’d probably love to.”

“No, we can figure it out on our own.” Matt answered.

“Matt, just let me-“

“It’ll be okay.” He cut in, a certain finality in his voice.

You simply sighed and offered a small nod, giving up on the argument. And that’s how disagreements had been going between you and Matt the past few times, creating a new pattern. You two would have opposite views and when the other tried to counter it, they were met with a short and almost final response. One that wasn’t open to continuing the topic. So the other person would drop it, but the lingering looks of concern from your friends and almost chokingly thick atmosphere of tension were hard for you to miss.

Everyone understood that there was a shift, in you and in Matt, which had changed the way you and Matt interacted with each other. There was more tension, more resignations. Neither of you would admit it, but you saw each other differently. Though neither of you understood what happened to the other to change their point of view, individually you both knew.

For Matt, though he would never tell anyone, it was thanks to Exodus. The way she left him on that rooftop, left covered in blood that was and wasn’t hers. The way her voice lingered in his head every night since, a voice without the Russian accent he had grown accustomed to hearing.

If you get in my way again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.

He didn’t doubt she would intend to, but he also believed that she wouldn’t. Maybe even couldn’t. They were partners, friends even. They worked together to take down Fisk and it was only a matter of time until they were on the same side again. He cared about her and the knowledge of her still combing the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night without him, it hurt him more than he would ever admit. Especially on the night where he would find her, only for her to run the other way. But even so, the sound of her voice, it was too familiar to forget.

Like a voice he had been hearing for years, a voice he loved to hear. After that night, he started to wonder how he knew her…

You, on the other hand, were acting different because of Daredevil. The man who you had thought was warming up to you and your flaws had - from your perspective - turned his back on you. He ultimately chose to stand against you, rather than beside you. He chose to save Fisk, to put the monster in a cell rather than a coffin. And you hadn’t forgiven him for it. Maybe you never would.

Either way, it made you reevaluate the people you trusted. Karen had softened up towards you and was truly someone you could regard as a friend. You were beyond thankful for that, especially in those moments when you saw yours and Matt’s friendship cracking apart. Foggy had been never more oblivious to your nightly escapades so there was never a question there. But Matt…

He asked too many questions, held too many suspicions. And what made it worse was that he would ask the very specific questions.

What happened to your hands?

Your voice is scratchy. Are you sick?

You didn’t answer your phone last night. Where’d you go?

Are you sure there’s nothing going on I should know about?

What do you mean, you didn’t sleep? What kept you up?

There was a disconnect between you and Matt now because he was paying a bit too close of attention to you. And you tried mentioning it to Karen, that Matt was poking around a bit too much but she brushed off your concerns, saying that he just cared about you and was worried.

That night, Foggy convinced the entirety of your friend group to go out for drinks and it was the most normal thing you had done in weeks. You had almost forgotten how good it felt to leave the suit in its case and just breathe, to just live. You and Matt were making jokes while Karen and Foggy were shooting a game of pool. It almost felt like nothing had changed.

“You sure you’re not being hustled here?” Matt asked Foggy after Karen landed a great shot.

“That’s why I didn’t want to play against her.” Foggy pointed firmly to you, making you laugh and throw your hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t-“ You laughed. “What did I do?”

“I remember college.” He said firmly, squinting his eyes in suspicion that made you drop your forehead to Matt’s shoulder while you laughed.

“Oh no, I can’t shoot pool. Oh no, I’m terrible.” He mocked you and you began losing your breath and nearly collapsed as you laughed, remembering the night you fooled him. Matt’s free hand came up to your arm when he felt you wobble. “Then boom. Perfect break.” Foggy deadpanned.

“I-“ You tried, though the sound was more of a wheeze. You shook your head and waved your hands, signaling that you couldn’t answer.

“She got, what, twenty bucks out of you that night?” Matt laughed and pulled you a bit closer to him.

“Forty!“ Foggy exclaimed.

“That’s on you for betting that much.” Karen giggled, high-fiving you on her way around the table.

“Betrayal. All of you.” Foggy said simply. “Take over, buddy. Be right back.” He passed Matt the pool cue and ducked away.

“I’m a little offended he didn’t hand it to me.” You said, finally able to refill your lungs with air and stand on your own.

“Maybe he wanted to take it easy on me.” Karen said playfully.

“Cause you’ll go easy on Matt?” You raised a brow to which she offered a devious smile. “You’re going to hustle a blind man!” You laughed.

“You hustled his best friend.” She grinned in return.

“This place always brings out something special in Foggy.” Matt said fondly.

“Sure it’s not the alcohol?” Karen teased.

“It’s the company.” You smiled. “He loves when all of us are together.”

“Yeah, we’d be doing this the rest of our lives if it were up to him.” Matt continued.

“It’d be a good life.” You nodded in agreement.

“As long as you two aren’t fighting over something stupid.” Karen nodded.

“Low blow, Page.” You shook your head with a small scoff.

When it came time for Matt’s shot, Karen instructed him. You hung back, feeling their emotions spike when they got closer than usual or when their hands touched. It wasn’t quite love, but the longing and admiration were palpable. You smiled softly to yourself and twisted your wrist discreetly, mimicking turning up a dial. You upped both of their desires and watched as they both blushed and separated with nervous chuckles or coughs.

Karen would be good for Matt, you decided. As much as you adored him - probably even loved him - you knew your double life would be too much. And even if you told him, it was unlikely that things could ever be romantic after that. So friends you two would stay, and you knew over time, you’d be okay with it. But until then, you sighed as the sadness cooled your skin, admittedly a refreshing sensation compared to the recent heat.

“I thought you were gonna watch them.” Foggy scolded playfully when he came back to your side. “I was gone two minutes.”

“You didn’t tell me anything about babysitting.” You defended with a laugh as Karen headed over to the bar.

You turned to watch as she left while Foggy was talking but your attention caught on a shifty guy at the bar who ended up next to Karen.

He was staring at you three, nervousness radiated off him in waves. You could feel his apprehension but also there was a hard intent behind his stare. Though you tried to feel deeper into him, you couldn’t. Like there was nothing below those surface emotions. But the way he moved in his seat, the way his hand was tucked under his coat, you decided you had to get closer.

“I’m just gonna…” You trailed off as you headed to Karen’s side.

Gently, you put your hands on her arms and guided her to your opposite side to put yourself next to the man. She looked at you with furrowed brows but you simply shook your head. You discreetly jabbed your thumb towards the man, to which she nodded and was quick to bring the drinks back to the guys.

“You doing alright over there?” You asked casually once Karen was gone. You glanced over to make sure and saw she was talking to Foggy and Matt, who were both seemingly focused in your direction. “Seem a little tense.”

“It ain’t what you think.” He said tightly. “I got business here.”

“I don’t think you know what I think.” You chuckled in annoyance as you faced him. “Whatever business you have here, pack it up and find somewhere else to do it. I won’t tell you again.”

“Got business with Nelson and Murdock.” The man answered as he stood. You sidestepped to block his path as your hands tightened into fists at your side.

“What makes you think you can get to them?” You challenged with an upward tilt of your chin.

“Hey.” Matt said suddenly from your side, a hand landing on your lower back. His touch made your whole body tense but you were quick to relax, loosening your hands and crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s going on? Who’s this?”

“You must be the blind one.” The man answered. “Looking for Nelson and Murdock.”

Matt nodded and gestured for the man to come to the other side of the bar, your friend group joining him around one of the small tables. You put yourself between Matt and the other guy, Karen on Matt’s other side between him and Foggy. Matt had tried to get to that spot before you did, but you were quick to reach around and guide him to the seat next to you. He frowned at you and gently tried to pull you to switch but you refused to budge.

You tuned in and out of the man’s story. It seemed fabricated, dramatized to earn sympathy. But as you read his emotions, you didn’t find any hint of smugness or pride that normally comes with getting people to believe a story like that. There was remorse, fear almost, along with nerves.

“Burren Club, 47th and 10th. Can’t miss it.” He explained and you were quick to commit the address to memory.

Karen leaned around Matt to look at you and you offered a brow raise and an acknowledging tilt of your head. You saw her shoulders rise and fall with a quiet sigh before you turned back to the man from the bar.

“And your involvement in the organization is?” You asked simply.

“Who’s she?” He looked to Foggy and you scoffed.

“Answer the question.”

“Ran for Brannigan for a long time… Did some things I probably shouldn’t have… But the guys I work for, the guys that did this…” He let out a long sigh. “I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with that massacre.”

“Assuming you’re right and the Irish were hit by a powerful crime syndicate tonight…” Matt started. “If you’re the only one that survived-“

“Someone’s bound to come back and tie off this loose end.” You cut in, leaning your elbows against the table. “What do you expect us to do for you, Mr…?”

“Relax.” Matt said quietly, trying to discreetly pull you to sit back.

“Last time we took a case when we didn’t get a name, it was a shit case, right? You really trynna do that again?” You answered in the same hushed tone, to which he nodded reluctantly in response.

“Grotto.”

“Grotto what?” Matt pressed as if it was his idea to get a name.

“Just Grotto.” He answered, which made you roll your eyes as you sat back with arms folded.

“I just need you guys to get me the hell out of here before I permanently end up in the only place hotter than this.”

“Witness protection.” You nodded, knowing it wasn’t an impossible thing to ask. “Could be doable.”

“We’re a private law firm.” Matt began before Grotto cut in.

“Yeah, a trustworthy one… Got quite a reputation after you took out Wilson Fisk.”

The mention of that case made you grind your teeth, thinking of how it didn’t go down the way it should’ve.

“DA’s office is the only place that can make a deal.” Foggy explained.

“And I’m not walking to the DA without representation. I know and seen a lot. I’ll give the cops anything they want to get out of Hell’s Kitchen.” He said honestly, desperation practically spilling onto the table.

“We have a reputation of representing the good people of Hell’s Kitchen, not negotiating on behalf of career criminals.” Matt said and the words seemed to slice you more than they affected Grotto.

“And if that criminal wants to change careers?” You asked, staring at the table as you settled your riled up nerves. Karen cleared her throat and when you peaked up, you saw she was already staring at you in warning. “You’re gonna tell me you don’t believe in changes of heart? Second chances?”

“You’re actually on my side?” Grotto asked in disbelief.

“Wasn’t that your point?” You countered smoothly.

“You weren’t exactly warm and welcoming a few minutes ago.”

“And you haven’t taken that hand out from under your jacket since you walked in.” You pointed out, nodding your head towards his hidden hand. “So I really don’t think you should be challenging who is or isn’t on your side.”

“Y/N..” Karen said gently, though you felt the warning in her words. “Tone it down a little…”

“I know I got nobody to vouch for me and I can barely cover your fee but… Word is that Nelson and Murdock put their faith in people and I- I could use a little bit of that right now.” Grotto was practically begging.

Your friends were huddled together and muttering about what to do about it but you hadn’t taken your eyes off Grotto. You watched as his eyes went wide as he shook his head, swaying in his seat. Matt began to ask a question but the man collapsed and fell to the ground. You had already begun to move and catch him so you were able to get your hand under his head before he hit the floor. You glanced towards your friends as you knelt by Grotto’s side but only saw Karen coming over.

“He’s bleeding.” Karen noted, carefully moving his jacket out of the way.

After having gotten an ambulance to come get Grotto, Matt and Foggy decided to turn in. Karen offered to go with Grotto and asked what you would do. You shrugged and said there was a club you had meaning to check out, knowing you didn’t have to full on say it for her to get it.

You hurried home, changed into your Exodus suit, and headed to the Burren Club. It was easy to see the lights on the cop cars from blocks away so you tapped your scar and tried to listen in on police chatter. There were random calls from their dispatchers but nothing about that incident so you turned it off. Instead, you snuck your way to the rooftop opposite of the club and used the new lenses of your mask to get a better look.

But the first thing you saw was Matt and Foggy. Your attention snagged on the boys while they talked to Brett, likely trying to get some intel and check out the validity of Grotto’s story. But you noticed Foggy was doing most of the talking while Matt was just listening.

“What are you listening for?” You murmured, leaning over the edge a bit more.

As if Matt heard you, he tilted his head up and turned towards your hiding spot. You didn’t flinch and didn’t hide, rather you held your position with the confidence that he couldn’t see you.

But it did make you wonder if he heard you…

Matt turned and said something to Brett that you couldn’t hear but could tell was something of interest if Brett grabbed a passing officer to scold him. Your brows furrowed as the three stepped further from the crowds and you started to wonder if you would sneak a mic onto Matt’s cane. Out of curiosity, you followed the trio and hopped down into the nearest alleyway.

You crept as close to the street as you could while still having shadows to hide in so you could eavesdrop on what Brett knew. You focused on key words that you knew would likely mean solving more later; the theory was paramilitary, they were capable of taking out half the city, and the DA had no leads. You heard one of the other officers mention the Dogs of Hell had been hit recently too, being that their members were currently taking residency at the morgue.

Though the conversation didn’t give you too many leads, you knew it was something to start. You had to get a hold of local underground arms dealers, see if they’re selling bigger things than pistols and pump action shotguns. You had to check the usual back alley haunts for someone - or multiple someones - who didn’t belong.

You figured starting with the Dogs of Hell would be the best bet. If anyone has seen what happened, maybe there’d be more of a starting point. A silhouette you could watch for or a vague description you could work down to something more specific. But as you were approaching the building, you saw a familiar pink shirt entering the building.

“Он сам себя убьет.” You complained and slammed a fist against the wall beside you. (He’s gonna get himself killed.)

You ran across the street and hurdled the trash building up in the alleyway until you reached the back door. There were two men posted out back, playing cards and smoking. They didn’t even notice you until you were right beside them.

“He has an ace tucked into his belt.” You commented, your usual Russian accent dancing in your voice.

They both turned on you and held their guns up.

“I have questions, maybe you boys can answer. You help me and I don’t crack your skulls on the pavement.” You tried, though they yelled for you to leave. “What happened to your men last week? What do you know?”

When you were greeted with nothing but shouts to leave, you shrugged. You made a move first, running at one and jamming a knee into his chest to slam him against the wall behind him. The other tried to grab you so you reached up and hooked your arm around his neck.

You used the first man as a foothold and flipped over, pulling the second man into a very uncomfortable bridge position. You dropped to a knee and brought him down with you, his spine slamming against your opposite upraised knee with a deep and echoing crack. You pushed him to the side before returning to the first man and grabbed him by his shirtfront, leaning several punches to his face until the skin split and the man fell unconscious.

Just in time for the door to open.

You hand shot to your belt as you ducked out of sight between a dumpster and the building. The huge man was towering over someone he had thrown in front of him, but even without seeing him, you recognized the voice. It was Foggy.

“Put it away.” You warned firmly when you saw the glint of a knife. Your Bite was now glowing as you lifted your bloodied hand and stepped into view, the biker now turning to face you. “Put it down or I will make you.”

“Holy shit.” Foggy breathed.

“This ain’t about you.” The biker warned, though there was a waiver in his voice. “So mind your business.”

“You just made it my business.” You said simply. “I won’t ask nicely again.”

“I helped a guy named Foster.” Foggy tried, though the biker ignored him. “Ricky Wex? … Pope?”

That name caught the man’s attention but he didn’t lower the knife. You moved around him to stand a few steps behind Foggy, lowering your hand but not letting it disarm.

“You helped Pope?” He asked and you realized that Pope meant something to that man. A spark of grief. “Get the hell out of here.”

The man turned his back and you reached for Foggy.

“What happened to Smitty?” Foggy exclaimed.

“Ты шутишь?” You groaned as the man came back with his knife raised. (Are you kidding me?)

You quickly put your forearm up to block his knife and used your other hand to catch it as it fell from his grip. You hooked your foot around his knee and yanked it to bring the man to his knees. You held his own knife to his throat and gestured for him to answer Foggy‘s question.

“Your men were massacred last week and the Irish were slaughtered tonight.” You explained. “Unless you want to join your pals in the morgue, I suggest you talk.”

“If I don’t get answers, a lot of innocent blood could be shed.” Foggy continued. “Please.”

“You got guts, Harvard.” He nodded to Foggy. You took a second to survey the man and found his hostility had come and went so you flipped his knife in your hand and offered it to him by the handle.

“Columbia, actually, and it’s just sheer adrenaline right now.” Foggy replied and you snorted a laugh as you took a few steps to the side. “I wouldn’t be here if doing this wasn’t important.”

“Smitty was on a run down I-90 with four other guys, got hit by an army and cut to pieces. They were left there like roadkill.”

“An army sounds extensive for a five man job.. Who did it?” You asked.

“Some new crew.” The biker shrugged. “But we’re gonna find them and you’re gonna wanna be far away from that action.”

The biker turned and left after that, leaving you and Foggy in the alley. You grabbed Foggy’s arm and began hauling him away, feeling him practically deflate in your grasp.

“Are you insane?” You scolded, taking careful intent to maintain your accent. “He could've killed you.”

“Why are you here?” He asked in counter. “Shouldn’t you be out with Daredevil?”

“Сорвиголова.” You scoffed. “No. I haven’t seen him since he got in my way with Fisk. We aren’t working together anymore.” (Daredevil.)

“What?”

“Listen to me because I will not say it again.” You said firmly, stopping your steps so you could face him. “This is going to get very messy, very fast. You need to keep you and your friends out of it, alright? If anything, work from a distance. Wait for this to come down a legitimate path rather than some back alley bullshit. Got it?”

“Okay..” Foggy said carefully. “Thanks.”

You nodded and took off, not really headed anywhere other than away from Foggy. You weren’t sure where to go from there. Going down I-90 wouldn’t make a difference because it was probably cleaned up and the officers long gone. Local cops had nothing, meaning the morgue had nothing, other than a label for homicide across a herd of bodies. You got yourself to a rooftop and sat on the ledge, wondering what to do next.

Your implant was ringing in your head with your usual cell phone chime. With a confused tilt of your head, you double tapped the scar.

“Yeah?” You answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Karen said in a panic and you could hear the skirting of tires in the background. You quickly jumped to your feet and tapped your mask, looking around as you tried to lock on her cell signal.

“I see you. On my way.” You answered as you broke into a sprint. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Someone attacked the hospital!” She screamed and you heard the glass shatter. “He came for Grotto.”

“But you’re alright?”

“For now!”

“Okay. Did you see how many?”

“Yeah… One.”

One?

“Alright, I’ll take care of it. Get somewhere safe and call me back.”

You ended the call and heard the sounds of a fist fight as you neared the hospital roof. You stood on the ledge and checked the surrounding buildings, only barely able to catch a glimpse of the two men fighting. It was easy to recognize his fighting style, even in the dark.

You had just landed when you saw the spark of a gunfire and Daredevil went tumbling over the ledge. You screamed out and the sound drew the attention of his attacker. He scoffed and got to his feet, though now you were pissed.

“Вы заплатите за это.” You sneered. (You’ll pay for that.)

Your anger was collecting in your palms, burning through your skin. You ran at him without hesitation and ducked his shot. You kicked the small gun from his hand and blocked a heavy hit from him. You slammed your fists against his jaw, seeing red puffs of smoke escape each time time you made contact.

He grabbed you by your shirtfront and hoisted you up, his other hand wrapping around your belt as he moved to slam you to your back. You grabbed his wrist and as your fingers dug in, you noticed that where your skin met his was turning red, as if it were burning. Quickly you shook the thought and tucked your legs so you could kick out against his chest. The move sent you two in different directions and you used the gap to jump the ledge you saw Daredevil fall down.

It was easy to recognize that you couldn’t beat him on your own, not as distracted as you were. You had to bail and figure out an actual plan. But at least you gained something. You saw his face.

You turned back and saw the man glaring down at you, bloody faced and angry. You pulled one of your charge disks and offered a fake salute so the movement doubled as the flick. He groaned as the disk landed at the base of his throat and you chuckled before turning to find Daredevil.

He was face down and not moving, making your heart stop. You knelt beside him and carefully rolled him over and tucked your fingers under his cowl, looking for the pulse at his throat.

“C’mon…” You muttered and slid your fingers down. “Please, c’mon.” You repeated with a bit more urgency.

By then, the tears were fogging your mask so you aggressively pulled it to sit around your throat. Your breathing was shaky and you couldn’t even focus enough to get yourself under control. You didn’t even care if he saw what you looked like, if he remembered who you were from when what happened with the Russians. You didn’t care, just as long as he was alive.

Sure, you hadn’t been on the best of terms with Daredevil as of late, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him die. Especially not by getting shot in the head right in front of you. By some no name, trigger happy bastard with a vendetta.

You let out a quivering breath of relief when you found his pulse and he moved, ever so slightly he had moved his arm almost like he was reaching for you. You slid over so your back was against the small structure that you couldn’t specify in the dark. You very carefully repositioned him in your lap as you leaned your head back and sighed towards the night sky as you slipped your hand into his.

You bit down on the finger of your other glove and pulled your hand free. You tucked the glove into your belt before placing your hand gently on his cheek. Your thumb traced his features idly as your mind raced, but the slow movement was enough to help you settle yourself and focus.

You couldn’t leave him there alone. You knew that much. But where would you take him? Metro General would raise too many questions. You couldn’t get him back to your apartment on your own and you had no idea where he lived. You thought about calling Claire but you didn’t even know if she was back in Hell’s Kitchen.

That would’ve been a good time to actually know each other’s names.

Instead, you decided to stay on that rooftop.

Next thing you knew, your implant was pinging loudly. Opening your eyes, you found it was morning. You wiped your eyes and realized your mask was still down. You were careful to reposition it without moving Daredevil as you answered the call.

“Hey.” You said, sleep hanging on to your voice.

“Thank God you’re alive.” She said quickly. “Are- are you alright?”

“I’m alright, yeah.” You answered.

“I tried calling last night but you didn’t answer.” Karen answered worriedly. “You can’t do that, Y/N. Not with this maniac running around.”

“I know. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry…I promise, I’m fine.” You nodded, looking down at Daredevil. “Someone else… Not so much.”

“What happened?”

“Whoever came after you and Grotto, Daredevil found him first. The guy shot him in the head.”

“Oh my god.” She sighed and you could feel her worry through the call.

“I’m just glad the guy had the protection in his new suit. The idiot’s alive, barely.” You slid your fingers to check his pulse again and while it was stronger than it was last night, it was still weak. “I’ve been on this roof with him all night. I didn’t know where to take him. I thought I didn't care and was done but seeing him like that, I wanted to tear that guy apart…”

“At least he wasn’t alone.” Karen tried and you nodded in agreement. “Well uh- I called Foggy and I told him. Grotto and I are at the precinct. The cops wanna ask him questions about everything.”

“Okay… Foggy say not to let anyone talk to him witho-“

“Without one of them here, yeah.” She cut in. “Yeah, he told me.”

“Good.. I’ll probably head over there when…” You trailed off, hearing footsteps across the roof. “I gotta go.”

You tapped the scar and flexed your hand, lighting up your Bite as the person came closer. You were more than surprised to see Foggy.

“Jesus.” You sighed, easily slipping back into your accent and disarming. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for him.” Foggy answered, kneeling at Daredevil’s other side.

“You know him?” You didn’t bother to hide your shock.

“You don’t?”

“I wouldn’t have stayed on this roof if I did.” You shrugged. “Guess you can’t stay out of it even if you wanted to, can you?”

“Guess not.” Foggy chuckled without humor.

“At least you have a friend you know can protect you.”

“Not if he gets himself killed.” He muttered and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Take care of him for me, okay?” You asked as you helped Foggy get Daredevil to his feet.

“I thought you weren’t friends anymore.”

“When I saw that guy take the shot and he went tumbling, something inside me…” You shook your head, deciding you didn’t need to explain all of it. “I just didn’t like what I saw. I tried taking on the guy on my own but I.. I didn’t have a chance. Probably too distracted but.. Look, just take him home, please.”

“Yeah, thanks for looking out for him.” Foggy nodded and you returned the gesture before heading to your apartment.

You had to get into your building through the rooftop door rather than your usual window. You slipped to your floor using the old stairwell that no one seemed to use anymore and got inside your apartment with no fuss. You ditched your suit quickly and showered, noting the blossoming bruises and busted knuckles as you got ready for the day.

Meanwhile, Matt was just lucky to have survived.

“Y’know, Exodus was there when I found you.” Foggy explained as he handed Matt the Aspirin.

“Exodus?” Matt chuckled. “You met her?”

“She looked like she’d been crying all night.” Foggy pressed. “She saw you get shot. Do you realize that?”

“She probably just would’ve rather been the one who pulled the trigger.” Matt pushed himself up with a groan.

“You’re not listening.” Foggy complained. “She cares about you, Matt.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Matt countered easily. “She only cares about herself.”

Matt didn’t fully believe that though. He was glad that Exodus was there and that maybe she did still care, at least a little bit. But as far as what her actions showed, she wanted nothing to do with him anymore and he wouldn’t force her to fight with him if she wouldn’t even talk to him. He knew saying she only cared about herself was hardly any different than when Fisk said she had no loyalty. And in both cases, it just wasn’t true.

“That’s why she stayed on that roof all night with you?” Foggy shrugged. “She went after that guy once you went down.”

Matt groaned in annoyance. Not because of what Foggy said about her being there, but at the fact that she went after the shooter on her own. He knew she was reckless and brave, but he never knew her to be stupid.

“All I’m saying is that you should try to make amends before you end up dead. Whatever happened between you and her, whatever you did to piss her off, you need to figure it out beca-“

“She didn’t like that I didn’t let her kill Fisk that night.” Matt snapped. “She didn’t like that I- I- I knew she could be better. I didn’t let her go around and take lives when it wasn’t up to her.”

“You look like shit.” Foggy resigned, knowing the argument would go nowhere with Matt. In that moment, he understood why Y/N didn’t bother arguing with him anymore. “Stay here. Get some rest. I’ll have Y/N come check on you later.”

“Foggy.” Matt sighed. Hiding it from Y/N was the hardest part of the secret, and with all of that, he didn’t know what he would say when she got there.

“Just don’t.. You already know she’s gonna come anyway when you don’t show up to work today.” Foggy reasoned. “And I’ve covered for you enough as it is. Just… Just stay here.”

You got to the precinct just before Foggy did. Grotto was tense, aggressively on edge. Him and Karen were both terrified, the fear from them vibrating through your bones. It was so dense that you felt it as soon as you walked into the precinct, not even near the interrogation room. You had to take a deep breath when you stepped inside and used it to blow away the frazzled buzzing in the air.

“Where’s Murdock?” Grotto asked when Foggy was the only one to walk in.

“He took a sick day.” Foggy answered before he went around the table to talk to Grotto.

You turned to Karen, who was looking at you with the same quizzical expression you wore. You leaned in and spoke quietly.

“He’s hiding something.” You said simply. “Look how freaked he is.”

“You think it’s about Matt?” She asked in the same hushed tone.

“Or the fact that he knows Daredevil and ran into her this morning.” You shrugged a shoulder. “Either way, I’m guessing it’s another ‘hit by a car’ situation like that one time.”

“Wait. Back up. What?“

You shushed her once the door opened. You nodded to Brett and he gave you a slight wave. After a brief conversation between Brett and Grotto, your trio and Brett stepped out to let him change. You blew out a sigh as you followed Brett, listening to what Brett knew about the shooter.

“Vigilante type.” Brett explained, causing Karen to sneak a glance at you. You were focused on Brett but you saw her glance at your peripherals. “Targeting different crime families.”

“But not in a Daredevil-type way.” You added. “He kicks some ass and the city cheers like we won the goddamn World Series.”

“Not even in an Exodus-type way either.” Brett agreed and your brows raised. “She’s something else but even she doesn’t do this… Anyway, he makes a lot of people question the whole ‘hero’ idea.”

“And what do you think about it? I’m guessing not a whole lot of cops love Daredevil or Exodus.”

“Whole force is split, actually.” Brett shrugged. “Some cops want ‘em gone. Some say they make the job a whole lot easier.”

“But what do you think?”

“I think it’s only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire.”

“You put it that way, I guess copycats were inevitable.” Foggy added.

“Not even the first, just the latest.” Brett said simply.

You nodded slightly in acknowledgment. You thought about the whole thing while Brett continued talking to Foggy about it. You figured your actions would inspire others to do the same. But you hadn’t thought of how wild it would be. Would that man really have claimed you and Daredevil as inspiration? Could you two really be responsible for a man who opened fire in a hospital?

It made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Targeting the crime families was one thing. It was something you had your fair share of experience with, considering your elimination of the Russians not that long ago. But to put innocent people at risk, just to get to one man? That didn’t sit right with you and it only made you want to find him and get answers.

You needed to take a walk.

“Hey.” You asked Foggy when Brett left. “Do you got this? I wanna go check on Matt. He was fine last night so it’s probably just food poisoning or something with the heat lately but y’know…” You shrugged at your lame excuse.

“Uh..” Foggy looked around and sighed. “Yeah, I got it. Go ahead.”

“You sure? Cause I can stay if you need me.”

“Yeah.” He offered a small smile. “DA’s assistant shouldn’t be too hard to handle.”

“You’ve got Karen, too.” You added and Karen agreed. “I just-“

“You worry about him.. I know.” Foggy nodded and offered a knowing smile.

“Thanks.” You smiled and hurried out.

The walk to Matt’s was quiet so you were able to think. It wasn’t so much that you wanted to stop this new guy. Granted, you didn’t appreciate him blowing holes in people all over town, but it’s not like he was killing good people. He did what you did, but messier. You thought about how you get to him again, get a time where you could get him to talk. Find out his motives, his goals. From there, you could decide if you wanted to fight with him or against him.

You tapped on Matt’s door with two quick knocks. You waited a minute to see if he would open it but he didn’t. You assumed he was asleep so you let yourself in. Coming into the living room, you found Matt around the corner.

Before you could say anything, he had knocked over the glass of water on the corner of the table. You yelped in surprise and jumped back, letting the glass shatter at your feet. You tossed your purse and blazer onto the couch and stepped around Matt to get a towel from the kitchen. You came back to the mess and knelt down, laying the towel over the entirety of the mess.

Your actions stopped when you heard Matt shout. Your head snapped up and your fists tightened, mind racing. You instantly thought something had happened. Someone followed you, the shooter from the hospital maybe. He saw you without your mask last night and was coming to kill you. But looking around, you quickly realized no one was there.

“Matt?” You tried gently as you crossed the room to kneel beside him, though he seemed to ignore you and screamed again. “Matt?”

You reached forward carefully and put a hand on his shoulder, one he quickly jumped away from. You furrowed your brows and reached out again, only this time Matt took a sloppy swing at you. You leaned away easy enough and caught his wrist, slipping your hand in his instead.

“Who…” He said quietly, nearly a whisper. You didn’t need your ability to know he was terrified.

“It’s me.” You answered in the same hushed tone as you guided his hand to your cheek. “You’re okay..”

His thumb traced your cheekbone before following the bridge of your nose to your lips. It reminded you of the first time he felt your face in college.

“Y/N..” He said, so desperately it was almost a whine.

He shifted to lean his shoulders against the wall instead of his back while the hand that was on your face went behind your neck. His other hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his chest. You let out a small ‘oof’ as you fell into his lap but your arms went around him while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I can’t… I can’t hear.” He mumbled against your skin. “I can’t hear.”

You closed your eyes and focused on him. His fear hadn’t changed but there was a relief mixed in. He was glad to not be alone but also terrified of losing another sense. You thought of how you could help him if he couldn’t hear you, so you took a chance and used your power.

You knew that emotions could relay messages and hold weight, depending on how individual people interpreted them. As you had been recently developing your powers to be more precise, you began learning that if you put enough intention behind what you did, you could essentially send a specific message.

So that’s what you did. Through the close grip he had on you, you let yourself absorb some of his fear and replace it with comfort, safety. You focused until those two emotions were nearly balanced and the physical tension in his body subsided. His hold on you tightened, practically begging for you not to leave him.

You’re gonna be okay. You’re not alone.

“Thank you.” He finally broke the silence after you didn’t know how long. He loosened his hold on you so you sat back to see him clearly. You kept hold of his hands loosely while he talked. “I’m glad you came by.”

“Something happened…” You said sadly, though you didn’t expect him to hear you. His head tilted but you kept going. “I know you won’t tell me but.. No one suddenly goes deaf unless something drastic happens… But, again, you won’t tell me so, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t want to worry you.” He said honestly, giving your hands a squeeze.

“Then be more careful.” You scolded when you realized he heard you. “Cause if we lose you, I… I don’t have a lot left.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He offered a lopsided smile. “I’ll try, okay?”

“Promise me.”

“What?” He chuckled.

“Promise me.” You repeated firmly.

“Okay, okay.” He smiled, letting go of one of your hands to cross his heart. “I swear.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Now, I need to go.”

“Wait. Really?” Matt said quickly as you got to your feet.

“Yes, really. Foggy’s down at the precinct and the DA’s office is probably already there. We still have to figure out Grotto’s witpro. I can’t sit here on the floor with you all day.”

Even if you wanted to. Even if you wanted to remain in his embrace, listening to his heart beat. Feeling safe.

“Right.” Matt nodded, though his disappointment hit you in the chest like a brick.

“But call me if you need anything… Okay?” You said as you grabbed your stuff. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Thanks, Y/N/N.”

“See ya later, Matty.”

You peaked at your phone on the way out and saw a text from Karen.

karen : DA office says it’s one guy.

karen: they almost have a complete profile

karen: “the Punisher”

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 4 months

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Ok there hasn't been much aside from a magazine shot and some kinda confirmation, what are your thoughts on the protagonist of metaphor, 1 having their own backstory, and 2, apparently not being a fully silent protagonist? I ask bc I know some similar points come up with the p5 protagonist and eheheh I can guess how ya feel about that

Well I mean.......I'm fine with P2, P3, and Catherine, and those all fulfill either one or both criteria. TT0TT

P2 has a firm backstory for chars, and they speak/technically speak at some point.

P3 they have a firm backstory that plays into the main plot later (P3/4MCs have the more varied personality tho).

And Vincent.....alksfjdkjff Vincent is self explanatory, but one of the best examples of a voiced MC who's personality can greatly differ from the sliding law/chaos scale as make certain choices.

Hell, Serph from DDS1, I thought he could totally be voiced during those dialogue choice scenes. Was kinda let down they didn't even though I found the opportunity to be right there!

So like I don't mind a silent MC, I don't mind a silent MC with a backstory, I don't mind a silent MC with a vague/small backstory, I don't mind a voice MC, I don't mind a voiced MC with a backstory, I don't mind a voiced MC with a vauge/small backstory.

As long as they handle it well I'm good.

(now for the P5 rant uwu, oh you know it was coming)

My issue with P5 is......contradictions. I'm really suppose to believe that the boy who saved a woman he didn't know, would try to creep on (at best) a sex worker/maid? (at worst the undertones of possible sexual assault esp with two other guys hiding in the same room really......makes my skin crawl, I know that's not their intention, but god could you imagine being Sadayo for a minute???? it's already bad enough it's her STUDENT! And now she has to figure out if it's intentional or not, but if she knew about the two hiding???? I'd freak).

I'm supposed to believe he is cool with creeping on his female friends (it's not about being horny, it's the fact they don't keep it to themselves it really isn't that hard)? He'd stand bye and allow Ryu to creep on them and make pervy plans that involved the girls? That'd he'd say he's "so jealous" when he sees a fake Anne on Kamo's arm?

It just doesn't add up. It's either "we put it in there for shits and giggles but yeah it doesn't make sense for his char," OR worse yet.....they do coexist and Joker is actually a piece of shit with a fucked moral compass. (which the latter COULD BE interesting, but it's never explored so :'D can't really argue it being a good writing choice).

Like shit, let's ignore his established character moment and backstory and focus on Anne/Ryuji. What bothered me was......these two are his ride or die. They had his back and he had their back. Ryu tried to protect him with his life after just meeting him. Anne put her trust in him, and pushed him to become Joker. Like if Ryu is the reason formed the group PT. Anne's the reason Joker pursued being a PT in the first place (she gave him the push he needed).

....yet the game gives you a biiiit too many opportunities to shit on them???? Sometimes it's not even optional! Like the dialogue choices are all somehow negative towards them at times and it's like???? Why???? I can maybe get Yusuke, but then he joins! But nooooo no 100% negative option for Makoto, even tho she drives off one of your leads! (tbh I think that's the starting point the game even calms down on Anne/Ryuji choices too). But really??? Why am I fine leaving Ryu alone with two harassers??? Why do I treat them like this? If there are two chars that the MC should go to bat for regardless, it should be Anne/Ryuji.

Just....why? Why? Can't I have a choice where I 100% agree with them? I don't care if they are in the wrong, I don't care if they thing 2+2=7. Let me talk them up!

It's like the opposite of the Junpei/P3MCs issue. I can't buy a friendship between Junepei and P3MC because I don't see them develop as friends in the main story (and I don't get even a side story/SL with him). I have a hard time stomaching parts of Junpei/FeMC friendship (but reverse), because even I can easily see them as friends, he still acts all pissy! And you'd think that'd damage their relationship.

Now replace Junpei with P5MC, and P3MCs with Anne/Ryuji/*insert other char* and I have the same issue. It's not about "I don't want people kissing MCs asses all the time" it's not about kissing ass, it's about making sure they feel like they are actually friends when the game tells me they are. TT0TT

Between that and.....P5MC.....feeling like they WANTED to write a more concrete MC BUT felt compelled to make him silent.....I think hurts his writing more.

One benefit for the P3/4MCs is the diversity in personalities it created with the different choices (of course you can easily make contradictions, but those contradictions are PLAYER BASED rather than STORY/GAME BASED like P5). Esp between the good endings vs the bad endings.

I can buy P3MCs choosing ignorance and killing Ryoji, because of the meaning of SLs, ignoring them, or doing them and being absolutely HORRIBLE and reversing/breaking them (male side). FeMC it's more ignoring them and her just smiling hollowly.

P4MC I can see giving into the bad ending or even the accomplice ending for the most part. Esp if they choose to ignore SLs, be an ass/loner when possible, and be as unhelpful in the investigation as possible as well. Considering he still hangs out with his friends outside SLs, him still being horrified by what he's done and not 100% evil in the accomplice ending still makes sense. (needs some tweaking but still makes sense)

But P5MC? Giving into Yaldy? I dunno. I can kinda see it, he does insult his friends at times (reason why? who knows! is he jaded because of his arrest? Maybe? But his friends are also outcasts too??? At least with P3/4MCs it can be played off as loners right out the gate who get wrapped up in shenanigans. P5MC? he's deliberately giving motivation by his first friends and his strong sense of justice so????? doesn't that contradict????). The only thing that seems to foreshadow this ending decently is him saying some greedy and outta pocket/"sinful" things.....at times. Like I've said before, it's contradictory. Wishy washy!

At least with P3/4MCs, the fun times they experience could be explained by they are faking it (either emulating emotions for P3MCs and are still hollow inside/fear death, or hiding their true intentions for P4MC aka for the accomplice ending). Hell! P4 even puts the idea in the players head by Shadow Yosuke that Yosuke is only looking into this case cause it's "fun" and "to play hero" and maybe P4MC is doing just that (in P4G at least). Otherwise the "fail" ending for P4MC doesn't really have any personality contradictions, you just fail to see the truth and/or convince the others.

P5/P5MC relies on a moral choice of the MC (chosen by the player). But the MC himself has a lot of set personality traits and said choice contradicts the majority/prominent/establishing traits (compared to the minor ones that align with that choice but contradict the establishing traits). It just feels....weird.....

Like it's not allowed to breathe. Joker isn't open-ended enough like P3/4MCs to rationalize the bad ending. But he's also not concrete enough to stay consistent and just stick with set ending.

If P5MC was written more like the approach they took to Vincent, that might've helped it.

Cause Vincent (looking at just Catherine Classic for this btw, but I think it also applies to FB just a few more hoops) can be Loyal/Neutral/Cheater without too much contradictions.

He's already shaky on his stance, and is unsure of himself (maybe a bit flighty and changes his opinion on things)

He is thrusted into a situation he had no control over (he does start off as loyal leaning so it's most likely a situation he wouldn't have ever found himself in if he wasn't targeted)

That incident causes him to change via reevaluating his outlook on life. From his choices in dialogue, to the questions in the confession. Those small choices affect his psyche and causes him to constantly change

With each change to his psyche, we see a new rationalization pop into his head.

Every ending rationalizes each thing, even the ones that contradict (aka the bad endings).

Yes it's the players choice, but 99% of the options feel within reason. And not just within reason, they are rationalized.

Basically what I'm saying is P5 needs to rationalize it. Either by making P5MC MORE openended like P3/4MCs....or make him more into a fixed character like Vincent but give different rationalizations as you make choices.

Back to Refan, as long as it handles itself well and isn't wishy washy or contradictory, I'm fine with however they wanna handle the MC. Silent or not. TT0TT

#silly asks #silly answers #sorry if the vincent part is a bit messy i'm tired and was trying to type fast

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

Text

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

4K notes · View notes

huenjin · 3 years

Text

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu.

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high.

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa.

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts.

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him.

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again.

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?"

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting."

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head.

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?"

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air.

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?"

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him.

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you.

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain.

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments.

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position.

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp.

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now.

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up.

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains.

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much.

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain.

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains.

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy.

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder.

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink.

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning, "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited!

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic.

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man.

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake.

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while.

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him.

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs.

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin.

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own.

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly.

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane.

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together.

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans.

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger.

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth.

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder.

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body.

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been.

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically.

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you.

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him.

“Hey,” you say and smile.

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology.

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend."

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

#stray kids smut #minho smut #lee know smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #minho imagines #minho scenarios #lee know scenarios #kpop smut #stray kids imagines #writings.rue

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask. Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

#.camgirl

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

#tw: pseudo-incest #tw: yandere #tw: needles #tw: drugging #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

stupid boy. | harry styles.

summary: Harry comes to his senses and realises it's been you all this time. a continuation of stupid girl.

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): minor angst and some fluff!

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @oneandonlycheshirecat) ahhh i hope you guys like this as much as the first part! do lmk what you think of it, reblog (!!) & comment, let's talk about it! here's my ko-fi if you consider donating and supporting me more. all my love to you all <3

Harry finds himself staring down at his black coffee, watching it swirl as he stirs his spoon around. The spoon makes clinking sounds as it moves against the rim of the cup and he hears it scraping against the bottom of it.

It’s generally calm in the coffee shop he’s in. The baristas are bustling around behind the counter and sounds of the coffee machines being used are elicited. He hears the sound of the register as the customers pay and the cashier thanking them, proceeding to greet the next customer. People are sat in their own spaces, minding their own things like gossip or struggling to finish up an assignment.

Harry sat in a booth next to the glass window of the shop. He finds himself not paying that much attention to the world around him, instead just staring out through the window he sits next to. His mind is a blur and he sort of forgets why he was out in the first place.

He gently sips on his hot black coffee. The warm bitter taste sitting on his taste buds. You once told him what a monster he was when he told you it’s the only way to drink coffee. You disagree because you couldn’t handle the taste, opting for steamed milk in your coffee. He smiles at the memory of the little things you both would disagree on.

He hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in a while. In fact, he doesn’t know if he should. He doesn’t know if you would want to see him or talk to him. He wonders what are you doing at the moment.

He’s been thinking about everything that has happened between the two of you since that night. How he believes it may have been his fault that the friendship is possibly ruined.

What is he supposed to say anyway? What should he say? He’s never realised how his own best friend was in love with him. He realises now of how stupid and selfish he was to not even consider her feelings when he first suggested they would start fake dating.

He convinces himself that he is still hopelessly in love with Amber. Well, at least he thinks he is. He’s not even sure of his own feelings anymore.

At first, he was so sure about his feelings for Amber. He thought of the plan going so well, convincing everyone including her that you both are in love, that maybe some jealousy might spark from her and tell him ‘Hey, I still love you too.’ Then, that night happened and everything about winning Amber back went out of the window.

He thinks about you a lot and sometimes wonders if you do the same. And he misses you. He really misses you.

He misses the way you tease him for even the smallest things. He misses talking to you about writing music because you are usually his confidant who always motivated him to write what he likes. He misses your laughter and how you throw your head back like a little kid, how you’d even apologise for having an ugly laugh when he always thought it was adorable.

Yeah, he misses you a lot. He asks himself whether she feels the same. Whether she too is somehow feeling alone, not knowing if the other wants anything to do with you or even speak to you at all. He hopes that you don’t think it’s all your fault.

After all, he was the selfish, blind and stupid one.

“Harry,” a soft-spoken voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He looks up and smiles at the person he’s been meaning to talk to. Maybe she could somehow help him figure out his feelings.

“Amber, hi.” He stands from his seat, giving her a small hug. He gestures to her the seat in front of him and she gladly sits. It doesn’t seem as awkward as he expected.

“Quite surprised you wanted to meet, actually,” she confesses to him, chuckling a bit. He rubs the back of his head in a nervous manner. A waiter comes by to take her order and she politely asks for a latte.

Funny, you like lattes. No wonder you got along with her, he guesses.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue like this,” he apologises. She waves her hand in front of him, telling him it’s all good. “It’s fine. It’s great seeing you again,” she tells him.

“So, how’ve you been since I last saw you?” He enquires.

“Oh, I’ve been alright. Work has been good. Nothing major goes on, unlike you, superstar,” she jokes and they both laugh at this. “That’s great to hear. I’m really happy for you.” She smiles to thank him and the waiter comes back again with her drink.

He is itching to ask her this and hopes it doesn’t come out as too forward or invasive. “Um, what about your friend? The one you brought with you the other week we met?” He asks, his head is slightly tilted down as if he’s scared to make eye contact with her after that question.

“Oh, yeah! He’s great! He really enjoyed meeting you guys, by the way!” Her face lights up when she talks about him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. “Never asked this then, but how did you guys meet?” He curiously asks.

Her face blushes at this. “Um, we met at work actually. Met him on my first day and taught me some things here and there about the place. We have become quite close since then.” She tells him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We, uh, have been on a couple dates. So yeah, that’s something that’s been going on.”

Naturally, Harry would ultimately feel jealous that the girl he still loves has her eye and heart on another man. But it doesn’t feel that way. He didn’t feel jealousy running through his veins at this. He didn’t feel sadness at the fact that she’s probably moved on.

“That’s great, Am. M’happy for you,” he tells her. And he genuinely means it now.

She thanks him and sips on her drink. “What about you and Y/N? How’s the love life going on with you two?” She teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He lets out a sad laugh at this. “Yeah, um. Not that great at the moment.”

“Oh?” She frowns at this.

“We, um, I guess we sort of broke up.” He says unsurely.

“You guess?”

He sighs. “We had an argument over something. We both got upset. Haven’t seen or even talked to her for a while now.”

His gaze is averted down at the table where his black coffee is at. It seems that even talking about brings feelings of guilt filling up his body.

“I’m sorry about that, Harry.” Amber looks at him, seeing how small and sad he looks. It’s clear for her to see how he regrets the argument.

“I just don’t know what to say to make things better. Feel like I might say something wrong again.” He sighs, feeling frustrated with himself.

Amber thinks for a moment on how to help him. “Well, what do you feel right now?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow for a second. “I’m upset. Upset that I haven’t spoken to her. Upset that I don’t know what she’s feeling right now or how she's doing. Upset that everything is my fault. I don’t know how to help or fix us.” He breathes out.

“And you haven’t reached out to her yet?”

He shakes his head, almost feeling ashamed that he hasn’t. “No. Don’t know what I’d say if she would listen to me.”

Frustration is building up and his emotions are going haywire. He’s mad at how he’s ruined things with his best friend and how his own selfishness was the root of it.

Amber is quiet for a moment. She feels sad for him that he’s feeling this way. She thinks of how much he really cares for you, loves you even. And that he’ll do anything to fix whatever that’s left between you two. But one thing she knows about Harry is that he doesn’t give up easily on the people he really loves.

“Well, do you love her?” She asks. Harry lifts his head up so fast at the question.

“What?”

“Harry, do you love her?”

Harry has to pause and think. Of course, he loves you. You’re his best friend, his confidant for nearly everything he does.

He loves you even though you drink your tea with milk sometimes. He loves you even when you buy books despite not yet finishing the ones you have on your shelf. He loves you even when you sometimes put him before you for everything.

He loves your laughter. He loves holding your hand because of how warm and comforting it is. He loves holding you because you tend to hold him tighter, especially when he’s had a bad day and confided in you when he and Amber broke up. He loves calling you cute pet names because he enjoys seeing your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he does it anyway as it just seems so natural to do it. And you’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.

He thinks about the way you are and how you’ve always been the one person that always supported him. He loves you in many ways he could possibly think of. And it’s just like that, he realises he was never still in love with Amber. Even during the times where he’d want her to look at you two when you fake-dated. Even after that night, he always thought of you and never once tried to plan to pursue Amber. He never cared about that anymore. All he thought about is you. You. You. You.

He always wanted to see you, smiling and laughing. He always so naturally called you ‘baby’ and ‘love’.

He had you all this time.

He’s in love with you.

He gasps as he realises this. Amber is still staring at him, waiting for his answer. “I do,” he finally speaks. And she smiles at his answer.

“I do love her.” He says it confidently and surely.

She nods, and it’s written all over his face that he’s in love with her. “Then, you should tell her that. Swallow up your pride. Apologise. Chase after her.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. She grabs his hand from across the table. He used to think that sparks would fly when he’s with her. But he doesn’t feel like that with her anymore. He just wants you and only you. That is, if you’ll have him.

“Harry,” she starts. “I know she loves you too. She’ll forgive you if you talk it out.” And he believes it.

Without a moment to waste, he gets up from his table. He apologises profusely but thanks her and tells her he’ll pay for the drinks, in which she tells him not to worry so much.

As he rushes out the door, Amber watches him and smiles to herself. She hopes for the best for the two of you. Even from the look on his face, she knew.

It’s always been you.

—

Knocks on your door pull you out from your thoughts. The last couple of days had your emotions going on a rollercoaster ride. You figured it was easier to just sit and journal anything and everything your mind has to say.

To your knowledge, you weren’t really expecting anyone. Unless, it’s a package of something you might have impulsively purchased the other day to cope with your loneliness and sadness.

You often wonder whether you have ruined your friendship with Harry. You miss him, you always do. You still love him even though he can be clueless at times. But you guess that’s what makes Harry, Harry.

You wonder whether he feels the same.

You’ve been plucking up the courage to call him and ask how he's been doing, failing miserably at the thought that he might not want to talk about it. God, you really need to come through if he’s not going to, you think.

You wait for a moment to see if the knocks would continue, and they don't at first. You shrug at yourself and focus back on the journal entry you’re writing on before a couple more knocks come in.

You sigh, throwing your head back as your moment of peace is ruined. You stand and make your way to the door, not bothering to clean yourself up, though you thought you look pretty decent. Dark sweatpants and a slightly oversized graphic tee.

Yeah, not bad for someone who’s been moping about her best friend who she’s in love with and possibly ruined it.

The person is still knocking on your door and you’re getting slightly irritated. You unlock the door and open it, ready to tell the person off when you stop before the words could come out.

“Harry?”

He stands there, dressed in a vintage tee and a pair of jeans. The shirt looks a bit small on him which makes it hug his chest and biceps. His tattoos are on display as they’re scattered all over his skin. You still think he looks good and attractive. Why the hell are you so whipped for this man?

He has a bag in his hands and you notice it’s food from the Mexican restaurant you love going to together. He even has a small bouquet of your favourite flowers. His face has a small yet nervous smile etched on it. If you weren’t having such a tough exterior put up, you think you might’ve cried. Not yet, though.

“Hi,” he says. And you realise how much you miss hearing his voice in person.

“Hey.” You stare at him for a moment before realising he was probably waiting to come in.

“Please! Come in!” You politely usher him in as you open your door wider for him. He thanks you as he walks in, not forgetting to talk off his shoes by the door, arranging them neatly next to your shoes like he always does.

He looks around your place, fidgeting on his feet like it’s the first time he’s been in here. You clear your throat to catch his attention. “Um, I brought food.” He lifts the bag in front of you and you chuckle. “I can see that,” you tell him as you take the bag from his hands. Harry follows behind you as you go to set the bag on your kitchen counter.

You turn around to look around to look at him, your eyes falling on the flowers he has. “Oh, uh, for you.” He thrusts them into your hand and you smile at the gesture. “Thanks,” you say softly as you breathe in the floral scent. You turn to your kitchen to find an empty vase to put the flowers in.

He scratches the back of his head in a nervous manner. “Um, I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I just wanted to see you. And I thought we could have some lunch together so I brought food too.”

You nod at his words. He’s still fidgeting in his place, looking nervous and almost shaking. “Harry, just relax. It’s just me,” you comfort him as you lay a hand on his arm gently. He nods and lets out a breath. “Sorry, um, I was nervous that you might not want to see me again.”

You frown at this. “Harry, I’ll always want to see you,” you tell him. “Yeah, I just thought, after that night, I might’ve ruined things between us,” he breathes out.

The corner of your lips lift up slightly at the man in front of you. Your eyes avert to the floor beneath. “If it’s anything, I thought I might’ve ruined things between us.” He frowns at this.

“Hey.” He’s itching to grab your hand, wanting to feel the warmth of your touch, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. “You definitely didn’t do anything other than being honest. I promise.”

You sigh at him. “Harry, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just pretend everything is fine.”

“No!”

His sudden tone takes you by surprise and you raise an eyebrow. He almost cowers back after realising this. “I’m sorry. Shouldn't have yelled like that.” He takes in a breath. “I just feel like I should say something. I mean, I've been thinking a lot about what I was going to say when I came over, so,” he trails off, looking at you still. He takes a moment to realise how pretty and beautiful you are. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to realise how in love he is with her.

“Okay.” You tell him and you almost get deja vu from the time you agree to fake-date him.

He lets out a big breath. “Okay, uh,” he exhales. “I just want to say I’m sorry first. For not really considering how you might feel when we did what we did. I should’ve made sure you were actually okay with it. I wish I knew how you actually felt about it.”

“Harry, you couldn’t have known how I felt because I never told you anything,” you tell him. “And, it’s fine. Really. I agreed to it, anyway.”

Harry nods, but his lips are in a straight line. He expects you to tell him how upset you were, but you don’t. You’re selfless enough to put his own feelings before yours when you agree to his plan. He kicks himself internally because of it.

You sense that he’s having a battle in his mind over this, so you take his hand in yours in hopes to somewhat ease what he’s feeling. He’s shocked to say the least when you do this but he instantly tightens his grip. And God, he misses holding your hand.

You clear your throat a bit. “Um, that was the first thing you wanted to say. What is the second?” You softly question him.

“Um,” he pauses. He’s looking at you and he can’t stop looking at you. He thinks carefully on his next words, not wanting to lose you if he says what he wants to.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally blurts out. He feels a slight relief in his chest after saying that.

But it’s almost like the world froze and it has become eerily quiet as he waits for your reaction. He’s starting to think that he broke you because you're staring at him in shock. He’s starting to sweat a bit because you haven't said a word.

He opens his mouth to say something, but your free hand goes up to touch his face.

“Wha-,” He’s confused as you pat around his face, concern and slight shock still etched on your face. “I’m making sure you’re not sick or burning up,” you say to him.

“What? I’m not sick!” He grabs her hand, making her pause her actions.

“Well, you’re sweating!”

“Because I’m nervous around you and you haven’t said anything!”

“You just said you’re in love with me! Sorry if I am shocked that the man I’m in love with just confessed his love to me and that I think he’s joking!” you whine at your defense.

Harry pauses for a moment before chuckling at her. He doesn’t realise how much he misses the playful banter you both have. “You silly, stupid girl,” he says, holding both of your hands. “I’m not joking. I am really, truly, stupidly, in love with you, lovie.”

There he goes, calling you pet names that might make you melt.

“You are?” You ask softly, almost not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“I am.”

“You’re not just saying this, right? I’m serious, you’re playing around with me, I will-”

“I’m serious!” He throws his hand up in defense. “I promise. I, uh, thought long and hard about it. Realised how much I missed you and how I hated being away from you. Realised how much I love and care about you more than I should and I wish I realised what I felt sooner. Every day and night since the last time we saw each other, all I could think about is you and how you were feeling. Been thinking about what I wanted to say or how I wanted to apologise. And there was never a second where you weren’t constantly on my mind."

You smile at his long confession and stifle a small laugh. “You really are something else, Styles.” You tell him. “Hated being away from you too. I felt the same way, wondering how or where you’ve been. Wondering if I still had my best friend and if he still wanted me around.”

“You know I’ll always want you around.” He tells you.

“Well, I hate you for taking so long to tell me that.” You grin at him sarcastically.

“No, you don’t. You love me,” he teases you. You groan at him.

“Don’t push it.”

You both giggle at each other, feeling as though the air is clearing between you. His smile falters a bit as he studies your face. “I’m sorry for taking so long.” He holds your hand and loves the familiar warmth it gives him.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” You look at your joint hands together, loving how right it feels.

“I love you,” he tells you, gazing at you lovingly. You bring a hand up to his face and caress his cheek. He sighs at the feeling, leaning into your touch as his eyes close. “I love you, too.”

You notice his eyes averting back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Are you gonna kiss me?” You say playfully. He smirks at this. “Yeah, I am. If you’ll let me.”

“Harry, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll-,” You’re immediately cut off as Harry grabs your face in his large hands, pressing his lips onto yours. And it feels like, finally. You sigh into the kiss, tasting the sweetness of his lips on yours. His lips feel soft like you’ve always (embarrassingly) imagined it’d be. You let out a tiny whimper as you feel his tongue enter your mouth. You gasp at this and grip on his shirt, as if telling him to not move away from you.

He moans as he pulls away, lifting your chin up. He looks at you so in awe and in love, it sends my heart bursting with so many emotions. He leans in again to kiss you, making it longer like he’s memorising the way your lips taste.

You both pull away again to catch your breath. Harry sneaks in another peck which makes you giggle and smile. You gaze on him, eyes lingering on his swollen and extra pink lips after your kiss and it makes your heart fill with pride knowing it’s because of you. His green eyes seem to sparkle more now that you think about it.

Harry lets out a chuckle, leaning his forehead on yours. You are both smiling like idiots in love. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in by your waist. You both sway a bit in your place, the feeling of love and adoration for each other lingering on.

A rumbling noise pulls you both out of the moment. He pulls away and laughs. “Was that you?” You whine in embarrassment as you bury your head in his chest. “I’m hungry and you brought food here. I’m sorry,” you mumble onto his shirt.

“Mmm, guess we should eat then, right lovie?” He says, looking down at your figure. You hum in reply as you look up at him. “Will you stay the night?”

He grins and his heart melts at the small request. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll want me to, baby.”

“I’ll always want you,” you feel your face warm up as you say this but it’s true. He kisses your forehead and your eyes close at the feeling of his lips on yours.

You both grin stupidly at each other before he leans in again to kiss you. You’re quick to react as you pull him closer. Harry takes you by surprise as he suddenly lifts you off your feet, spinning you around as you kiss. You squeal and laugh at this, it makes Harry smile as he sees you throw your head laughing. He trails his lips down to your jaw and neck, kissing lightly on it.

There’s nothing he’d ever exchange this moment for. Your laughter and the kisses you share whilst being so madly and stupidly in love.

And it just finally feels right with you and him.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #best friend!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #parkersroses writing

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. lxxi - really proud of you sweetie ❤❤

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

The whole time you went out to buy snacks with San and Jongho, you couldn't help but think about how Yeosang was still cold towards you.

"Okay, first of all, you're not gonna let that shithead get to you, you got me?" San firmly said as he threw a bag of chips at Jongho's head, obviously aiming at the basket in his hand but he miscalculated.

"Second, hasn't he opened up to you slightly? Pretty sure he said something to Hwa hyung about being a dick to you yesterday," San shrugged as the three of you walked towards the cashier.

As Jongho put the basket on the counter, he chimed in with his own opinion, "I say let him be all pissy and bitchy towards (Y/N)," he scoffed.

You let out a whine of protest and smacked Jongho on his arm. Though that barely did anything as he only grinned and pulled you into his arms. "I didn't mean that in a bad way, I just meant that if he decided to back off, the rest of us, aka ME, can have more of you," he whispered into your ear as he snaked his arms around your waist.

Though you were slightly affected by Jongho saying that there was a chance that Yeosang wanted to back off of your relationship, you couldn't help but blush and giggle at Jongho's rather possessive words and actions.

The three of you left the convenience store with two bags. Both of course being carried each by San and Jongho as you stood in between them with your pinkies linked to each other.

"You know, you COULD just show what Yeosang's missing, maybe then he'd realize how much of a bitch he was being and that he'd stop," San said, snickering at himself.

You thought over San's words and realized that he was right. Rather than thinking that you're the one at the disadvantage, you can simply flip things around and make Yeosang break.

So you concocted a plan in your head all the way back and as you got ready for movie night.

Whilst everyone was running around everywhere, pulling blankets and pillows from their rooms, you sat idly by and kept a close eye on Yeosang. The way you were looking at him made it seem like you're a predator and Yeosang's your prey.

As everyone took their seat, you slyly directed each of the boys to sit where you want them to sit, leaving the last comfortable position directly below you, by your feet. Since you know Yeosang tends to go to the bathroom last minute, it meant that he was going to have to sit at the available spot if he wanted to comfortably watch the movie.

Just as you expected, he walked back and froze for a second when he realized where he would be sitting.

"Yeosang, come on, we're gonna start now," Hongjoong called out from his position at the edge of the sofa.

Knowing he can't do or say anything, Yeosang gave up and went to take a seat by your feet. You smirked inconspicuously as you leaned against Seonghwa who was at your right. You nuzzled into him as your legs reached over to Wooyoung's lap on your left.

In the first ten minutes of the movie, you let Yeosang relax, not letting any parts of your body touch his. This seemed to be effective because his eyes were focused on the screen and his shoulders seemed very much relaxed.

But when he seemed to disregard your existence, you let your knee and fingers brush against the back of his neck. As your skin made contact with his, he visibly stiffened. Knowing him, his eyes were most likely bulged out and his grip on the blanket he and San shared tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white.

You smirked at yourself at his reaction, knowing that teasing him was going to be fun and that he deserved it.

The subtlety of your touch seemed to awaken something in Yeosang. Maybe it was his triggered frustration or it was just simply the fact that you hadn't touched him in the longest time.

When your eyes peeked down at him, it was evident that his mind was thinking a hundred thousand thoughts a minute. With his chest rising and deflating with each breath dramatically, you know it's time to take it up a notch and to test your hypothesis.

Sexually frustrated Yeosang + subtle teasing = boi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oing.

"Oops, almost forgot my popcorn," you muttered lowly but loud enough for Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung to hear. Once Seonghwa and Wooyoung let their grip on you off, you proceeded to swing your right light over Yeosang and stepped diagonally. With the newfound balance, you leaned your body forward to pretend to reach for the popcorn bowl.

With this position, Yeosang was in direct eyeliner with your clothed core. The shorts you wore were not helping either. It was the pair you wore were the ones Wooyoung bought for you; very tight and short, the black, stretchy material both accentuated and covered only half of your ass.

To make things worse, you pretended to lose your balance and fell directly on Yeosang's lap with a high, squeaky yelp, albeit very fake. The close proximity between you two enabled you to hear the choked gasp that came out of Yeosang. Not only that, but you felt something hard pressing against your ass.

Either Yeosang hid the remote in his pants or your plan worked well.

You turned your face to look at Yeosang with a faux innocent, apologetic face, "Oops, sorry Sangie," you apologized to him, batting your eyelashes at him.

It seemed that Seonghwa and San had caught onto your plan. They were snickering at the scene unveiling before them.

Without saying anything else, you stood up. To make things worse, with your ass directly in front of Yeosang, you 'fixed' your shorts; pulling it up and exposing more of your ass.

"I'll be back," you told the room, to no one specific, before walking towards the kitchen.

You pretended to look around in there, trying to find something when suddenly a set of footsteps followed. Before you could even turn to look at who came, you had been swung and pushed until your back hit the fridge's door.

The sight of Yeosang's flustered face combined with his glare greeted you. You tried your best to not look so smug. On the contrary, you pretended to be confused.

With hands pinned at the sides, you knew you couldn't do much. You tilted your head at him and blinked innocently, "something wrong, Sangie?"

Hearing the faux innocence dripping from your voice only made Yeosang growl, slightly ticked that you dared play him like a fiddle.

"Something wrong? Are you seriously that ignorant or are you just pretending to be dumb? I don't even know which one is worse but I'm fucking sick of you flaunting your ass like a damn peacock trying to mate," he rambled on.

Your expression changed as a smirk broke on your face, "didn't know you're one to give in so easily, Sangie? You think with your dick now?" you poked fun at him.

Yeosang's left eye visibly twitched at your words. One of his hands let go of one of yours to grab at the back of your hair, tugging it back rather harshly, eliciting a moan out of you, "are you comparing me with one of the cheap boy toys that you played with when you weren't here? Didn't know your standards were lowered to that extent," he smirked, trying to push you the same way you did him.

A gasp and a low groan left Yeosang when you cupped his dick with your free hand over his pyjama pants, giving it a bit more pressure to feel how hard he was.

"No matter how much you call them 'cheap boy toys', they have bigger balls than you, Sangie. How long did you plan on being all pissy with me, hmm? Did it hurt your pride that I had to be the one who initiated direct contact with you?" you snarled at him.

You could see his eyes burn in anger with a tinge of shame. You knew you had struck a nerve in him.

All of a sudden, Yeosang pulled you off the fridge, turned you around and pushed you down by the shoulder to the point that your cheek was pressed onto the cold countertop.

Excitement filled you as you realized where this was going. Your formula was spot on, your H1 was accepted and H0 was rejected.

When you realized that Yeosang was not doing anything, you took matters into your own hands. You pressed your scantily clad core directly against his boner.

"Not gonna do anything, Sangie? Do I have to get one of the boys to show you how to use a dick properly? Or should I call one of Haknyeon's friends to show you? There's this one, Hyunjae I think was his name, he-"

You couldn't complete the sentence as Yeosang had slapped your ass so hard, you were sure he had left a purple handprint there.

As you were about to protest, Yeosang had somehow taken a clean rag and wrap it around your mouth as a makeshift gag. He leaned forward so that his chest was pressed onto your back.

"Be a good girl and keep your big mouth shut, yeah?" he ordered. His hand skimmed your waist down to your legs and it slowly caressed the back of your thighs, leaving goosebumps at their wake.

When he realized you didn't give him any response, his hands smacked the sides of your legs harshly, making you jolt up in surprise.

"Too dumb to answer?" he growled. Hearing the anger in his voice made you whimper out in fear and submission.

Yeosang smiled and pecked the back of your neck after you replied to him, your submission made him feel soft for a split second.

It wasn't until he pulled your shorts and panties carelessly along with his own pyjama pants and underwear that your brain finally registered that you're about to have angry sex with Yeosang. From how he had been treating you so far, you're at least 70% sure that there will be bruises all over you tomorrow.

Without hesitation, Yeosang shoved his dick deep into you, hips pressing against your ass as his hands found anchor on your waist. His grip was tight, vice even, it almost seemed possessive.

He set a harsh and quick pace from the beginning, not caring that your hips were smacking the counter nor the fact that literally anyone could enter the kitchen area.

Yeosang isn't one to talk much during sex, he tends to focus on the action more than anything else.

The feeling of him continuously entering you at such pace and vigour were intoxicating. Maybe it was all the pent up frustration and anger, but you swore your eyes rolled back even further each time his hips smacked yours harshly. You definitely won't be able to sit on your ass after this.

"Shit, I guess you were telling the truth when you said you weren't playing with your cousin's friends," he groaned out mid-thrust.

Yeosang suddenly pulled out, making you whine in protest.

If it weren't for the extreme sexual tension and both of your compromising predicament, Yeosang would've cooed at how adorable you sounded.

But that wasn't his priority at the moment.

Wordlessly, Yeosang pulled you off the counter to move you to the wooden dining table. He pushed you to lie on the table as he propped a leg up to his waist.

With this new position, you could see the defined lines of his chest peeking from his pyjama when he anchored himself above you. You thanked the workout regime he had been following internally because the sight of his muscles made your pussy throb.

Yeosang immediately went back to thrusting with an animalistic pace into you, pouring every bit of emotion he had into action. You could feel it. The way he was so close to you but still maintaining a certain distance, you knew that he was hesitating. The way he was avoiding your eyes and focus on where you both were connected, yearning for intimacy but scared to initiate it. But you also know that he wanted you beyond anything else and that he was sorry. He wasn't one to be good with words but luckily you know him well enough to understand him.

As he focused on pleasuring you both, you took the chance to prop yourself up slightly and pull the rag gag off your mouth and threw it to the side.

Your hand slapped his face, stunning him for a second. As his movements halted and eyes finally meeting yours, your grabbed his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

He froze momentarily, not knowing what to do. But when you pulled out to speak to him, you could see that his stubbornness began to chip away and crumble.

"You don't have to feel bad about what happened, I forgave you and it's about time you forgive yourself for being a jerk to me. And I'm sorry for leaving you to take care of everyone like that, Sangie. But can we please move past all that and go back to normal?"

His once vice grip on you loosened.

At first, you thought he was going to let you go and run away.

But he suddenly pulled you up and flush against him. He hugged you tightly, burying his face on your shoulder.

"I should've been the one to apologize first. I'm sorry, I love you so much," he said lowly against your skin. You knew that it was hard for him to be so vulnerable which was why you know him saying all that meant that he was being beyond sincere.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as his wrapped around your waist.

Soon his thrusts continued.

The initial roughness and anger were replaced with longing and desperation.

Not long after, you felt that you were close to the edge. Your leg that was hoisted up on Yeosang's waist tightened and Yeosang immediately realized what it meant.

His hands slipped under your shirt to play with your chest. His fingers tweaking and pinching your nipples, adding to the pleasure that he gave. The intense arousal shot to your pussy and you clenched hard as you came.

Head thrown back, exposing your neck to him, Yeosang took the opportunity to mark you up as he liked.

The feeling of his fingers on your nipples, his mouth on your skin, and his dick still moving inside you prolonged your orgasm more than you liked. The intensity made you whine as overstimulation took over.

Luckily, Yeosang soon followed suit and released his load inside you. His hips stuttered and his teeth bit down onto your shirt-covered shoulder. You yelped at the sudden pain but the pain turned to pleasure, making your thighs shook and pussy once again clamping around Yeosang.

Yeosang let out a guttural groan that was muffled by your shoulder at the feeling, not denying how good it felt.

You both stayed there, trying to catch your breath. It was then that you registered the aftermath of your intimate activity with Yeosang. Your pants and panties had somehow stuck onto one of the drawer handles of where you were pinned down, the rag that was used as a gag had somehow made its way to the edge of the room, and Yeosang was still fully dressed.

When your eyes met his again, you see fondness and love in them, He was smiling down at you, fingers trailing down to intertwine with yours.

"What would it take me to get your full forgiveness?" he asked, head tilting to the side. His bangs moved to reveal the birthmark that he had told you a while ago he was insecure about. You leaned forward and pecked the adorable mark, making him chuckle.

"Just don't pull yourself or push me away again when things are hard, okay? The last thing I want is to almost lose you again," you told him.

He brought one of your intertwined hands to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, "there is no way on earth that you'd be able to lose me. I was actually thinking the other way around," he admitted shyly.

You bit back a giggle for his sake and opted to kiss him fully on his lips. "You would never lose me, Sangie, I belong with you, all of you," you assured him.

As he pulled himself out of you and began to clean himself up, he was reminded that the others were a room apart.

Yeosang visibly swallowed, suddenly turning nervous.

"D-do you think the others-"

"Seonghwa and San were well aware that we were having sex here, pretty sure the others heard everything as well," you said, cutting him off.

"Yeah we did! You both better clean and disinfect the heck out of the kitchen area," Seonghwa yelled out from the living room.

Hearing that, Yeosang blushed madly and moved to bury his face into your shoulder in embarrassment.

You couldn't help but laugh at him. But you wrapped your arms around him and stroked his back comfortingly.

At least you got the old Yeosang back.

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