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#and long story short IT’S CUTE IT’S CUTE IT’S SO FUCKING CUTE
gomapda · 2 days
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sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)
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this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.
side A found here!
author's note:
oh goodness. it's been a while.
i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.
this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.
this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')
maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.
and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.
✧⋆°。☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆。°✧
tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.
pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader
genre: romance, fluff
summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.
rating: 13+
length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)
tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure
inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi
inspo spotify playlist found here!
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side b: him.
The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.
You knew. You fucking knew.
You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.
He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.
Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.
He ran.
He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.
But he couldn’t.
He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).
He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.
The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.
The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.
You were everywhere.
And he needed to get away.
He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.
However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.
If you asked him to stay, he would have.
But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.
So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.
──────────────────
Years later.
“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”
He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”
“I figured. I brought you some food.”
Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”
“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”
Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”
“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”
“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”
“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”
“...Lyrics.”
“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”
Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”
“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”
Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.
Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”
The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”
“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”
Jihoon let out a loud sigh.
“That’s a yes, then.”
“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”
“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”
“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”
“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”
“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”
Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”
“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”
“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she always has.”
“Can I see her profile again?”
“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”
“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”
“That makes me really not want to.”
“Ey.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.
“Oh, is that Japan?”
“Yeah.”
Jihoon clicked on your post.
But it wasn’t opening.
So, he clicked again. And then again.
And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.
The once white heart was now red.
His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”
Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”
“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”
“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”
“How do you know?”
Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”
“...”
“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”
Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.
“Jihoon-ah.”
“Hyung.”
“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”
“...Okay.”
──────────────────
Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?
“Jihoonie.”
His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”
“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”
“Just thinking.”
“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”
“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”
“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”
“You work miracles, Y/N.”
“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”
“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”
“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”
Did you even know how much your words affected him?
“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”
“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”
“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”
Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”
“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”
Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.
He might as well use your promise to his advantage.
──────────────────
“She didn’t block me.”
“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.
“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.
“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.
“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.
“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”
“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”
Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.
“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”
Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.
He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.
“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”
“Seungkwan-ah.”
“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”
“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”
Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”
“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”
“WHAT DO I DO.”
“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”
So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.
After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”
Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”
Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”
Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”
The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”
Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.
Everything about her usually is.
──────────────────
“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”
He groaned loudly under the bed covers.
He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.
“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”
Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”
“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”
“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”
There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.
“Huh. You might be right there.”
“Get! Off!”
His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.
You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”
“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”
“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”
“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”
“Is a buggy better than a furry?”
“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”
It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”
“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”
You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.
Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”
You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”
You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.
You scurried out of his room before he could respond.
He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.
Forget summertime.
He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.
But he ought to thank the summertime.
Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.
Yeah.
He needed the summertime.
──────────────────
“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”
“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.
Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”
The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”
“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”
Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”
The accused groaned.
“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”
“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”
“You romanticist.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”
“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.
Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”
Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”
Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”
They all collectively raised a brow.
“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.
“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”
A heavy silence passed over the group.
Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”
“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”
“Hoon, you wound me.”
──────────────────
Award shows were weird.
At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.
But it was much more daunting than they were used to.
Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.
In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.
He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”
He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.
That is, until he experienced it firsthand.
The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.
Then he felt it: that driving force.
You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.
And it ended with him sick and bedridden.
And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.
The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.
For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.
‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’
One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.
Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.
When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.
Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.
Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.
“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”
He thought back to his trainee days.
To his current days.
How similar.
“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”
You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.
“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”
Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.
“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”
And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night. 
When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.
Award shows were weird.
It was all about performance.
Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.
Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.
Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.
He knew how to perform. He was good at it.
It was why he’s in this industry.
But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.
As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.
‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’
──────────────────
Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.
He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.
“How’s the song coming along?”
“The album is nearly complete—”
“No, the solo one.”
Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”
“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”
“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.
Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”
“…that’s not true.”
“What? Which one?”
“The first song I ever wrote.”
“Oh what? What was it?”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”
“…huh. What was it about?”
──────────────────
You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.
His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.
His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.
That is, unless you needed him to.
And he always gave you what you needed.
So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.
──────────────────
Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”
“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”
“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”
“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”
“She sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”
Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.
He imagined you meeting them.
With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.
With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.
With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.
With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.
With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.
With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.
With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.
With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.
With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.
With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.
With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.
With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).
He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.
And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.
He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).
He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.
From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.
And that's when he knew.
Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.
──────────────────
When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.
Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.
Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.
However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”
He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.
“Here, firefly.”
You caught it by instinct.
Your gaze met his.
He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.
His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.
“Why are you giving me this?”
Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.
But he wouldn’t do that.
Because that would be embarrassing.
(That was a future Jihoon problem.)
“It’s your win today.”
He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.
“Huh?”
He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”
Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.
You sniffled.
A soft smile formed on your lips.
And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.
Pretty.
He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.
The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.
That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.
(Not that you reached out.)
He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.
He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?
It’s your win?
But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.
You did win his heart, after all.
(He threw his pillow at the wall.)
──────────────────
“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”
Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”
Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”
Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”
Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”
“She’s more than that.”
“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”
“I never asked you to do that.”
“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”
“Okay, bro.”
“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”
Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”
“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”
“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”
“So close-minded, Hoon.”
Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.
“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”
“Thanks for the play-by-play.”
Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.
But it’s for a good cause!
But he might be trespassing on her territory.
Everyone cares about youth and kids!
This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.
He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”
“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”
Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”
Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”
Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:
“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”
──────────────────
“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”
Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.
Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.
“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.
But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.
“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”
The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.
Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.
And he was right.
Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’
Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.
Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.
And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.
He was able to find it outside of you.
Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.
And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.
Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”
Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”
Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.
Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.
──────────────────
It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.
Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.
(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)
Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.
Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.
So, here he was. Simply being.
Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.
Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.
You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.
His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.
As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.
So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.
A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).
He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.
He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.
His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.
But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.
That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.
However, he never had the desire to throw it away.
The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.
If only catching you was as simple, he mused.
Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.
He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.
Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.
──────────────────
“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”
“Who said I’d ever miss you?”
“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”
“…You’re dumb.”
“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”
──────────────────
He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).
He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.
Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.
Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.
He paused.
Did he know that though?
Or did he just assume?
He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.
Communication was easy in theory.
Application, however.
He often found it difficult, matching your pace.
You were always so quick.
Quick-witted. 
Quick to anger.
Quick to assume.
Quick to run away.
He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.
Ah, he was right.
“Woozingi~”
“Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”
This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”
Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”
“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.
“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”
Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”
“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”
“Hm.”
“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”
Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”
“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”
Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”
“I—”
“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”
“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”
Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”
──────────────────
“Our Jihoonie~”
The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”
“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”
“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”
“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.
Jihoon’s face twitched.
“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”
“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”
“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”
“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”
Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”
──────────────────
Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”
“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”
“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”
“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”
Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”
“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”
Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”
“Ay. What is there to complain about?”
Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.
“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”
“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”
“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”
“So, she must be eloquent then.”
Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”
──────────────────
“You like unnie, don’t you?”
Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”
You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”
Jihoon sank back.
Family? Brother?
He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?
So why the hell did that piss him off?
Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”
You sneered at him.
God, you were so infuriating sometimes. 
She wasn’t like that.
She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.
She was beautiful.
But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!
What the hell was wrong with you?
Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!
So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?
It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.
You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.
You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.
But.
You fizzled out just as fast.
He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.
“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.
“Okay.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”
“Sure.”
So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.
You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.
He never once called you his family.
But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.
──────────────────
“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”
“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”
Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.
“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”
Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”
Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”
“What a useless messenger.”
“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”
“…Me too, hyung.”
──────────────────
“How much is the corn dog?”
“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”
“It’s my shop!”
“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.
“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”
“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”
Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.
Stories didn’t matter.
Money mattered.
Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.
And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.
And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.
He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.
So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.
Eventually, he asked you why.
Why stories?
“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”
And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.
“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”
──────────────────
After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Hm?”
“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”
Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.
“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”
“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”
“It’s blue, by the way.”
“I don’t care—”
“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”
“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”
“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”
Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?
But he wasn’t you.
You were the inspiration; the muse.
You were the reason to write.
He was just a storyteller.
──────────────────
“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”
Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”
He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”
“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”
Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”
Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.
Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.
They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”
They’ve grown so much.
International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.
They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).
Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.
He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.
(Not even you.)
However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.
He was a selfish human being.
He hoped you would be one too.
──────────────────
May 26th.
Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.
Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.
Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.
He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.
As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).
He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.
And there you were.
alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD
The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.
Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:
i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan
His brain short-circuited.
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.
Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?
Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.
sorry that was dumb of me to assume
of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album
What the hell, dude.
You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.
You’ve literally never done that.
He tried to calm his heart.
However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.
sorry that was stupid
ignore me
congrats y/n
He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.
“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”
His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.
Ah, it would be him.
“What did she do?”
──────────────────
For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.
But that wasn’t (entirely) true.
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.
So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.
Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.
“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”
Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.
Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.
“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”
“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”
“She made her choice, Jihoon.”
“This is all my fault.”
“How?”
Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”
“Jihoon–”
“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”
“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.
“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”
“Don’t fucking call her that–”
“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.
But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.
Who the hell did you think you were?
Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.
Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.
“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”
“I just–”
“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”
Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.
“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”
“...Okay.”
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.
Painfully so.
──────────────────
“I just–”
“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.
Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”
“Jihoon-ah.”
“...Soonyoung-ah.”
“She’s human, right?”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”
“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”
──────────────────
“Why’d you reject the guy?”
You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”
Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”
“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”
You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”
“What, that people don’t know you?”
“No. That people assume they know me.”
Jihoon paused for a moment.
“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”
“Well, one of those things is true.”
You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”
“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”
It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”
──────────────────
Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.
Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.
You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.
He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”
“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”
“You can unsend messages?”
“Uh–”
Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.
But he hesitated.
“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”
Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”
“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”
“No thanks.”
“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”
──────────────────
Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.
“...She replied.”
Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”
Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”
“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”
“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”
“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”
The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.
Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?
And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.
(With some typing errors.)
(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)
(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)
The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.
He snorted at that, of course you would.
A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.
He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Woozi Woozi~?”
“Can you do something for me?”
Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”
“YAH.”
“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”
Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”
“WOW! I like her already.”
“Hyung.”
“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”
“Just a video to congratulate her.”
“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”
“Hyung, please.”
Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”
Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.
That felt dangerous.
He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.
But.
He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.
He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.
But what if you leave again?
He cannot mess this up. He can’t.
So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.
But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.
And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.
That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
──────────────────
Yes. Yes, it was.
After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.
But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.
So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.
Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.
Stupid.
Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).
He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.
He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).
Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?
──────────────────
“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”
“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”
You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”
“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”
“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”
“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”
“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”
“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”
“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”
“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”
“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”
“No, get better lung capacity.”
You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”
“No thanks.”
You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”
“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”
No. You definitely were.
You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”
“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”
You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.
Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.
But, no.
If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.
You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.
Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.
──────────────────
Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.
Our past that didn’t line up,
If I could go back in time,
Rather than roughly, but warmly,
Would I be able to let you go?
He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.
One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.
He could only hope he would’ve done something different.
But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.
He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.
But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.
Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.
He groaned loudly.
Emotional labor is hard.
How is this something you enjoy doing?
──────────────────
“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”
You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”
He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”
You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”
Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”
You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”
“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”
“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”
You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”
Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”
“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”
Irritation washed over Jihoon. 
The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.
He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.
You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.
Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)
Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.
“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”
“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”
“Thanks. Hire me.”
──────────────────
Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ���self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.
However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.
Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”
“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”
“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”
“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”
“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”
“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”
“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”
“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”
“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”
Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”
Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”
“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”
“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”
“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”
He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”
“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”
“We both know that’s literally not true.”
“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”
“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”
His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”
A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”
Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”
Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”
“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”
“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”
“Can you not say it like that?”
“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”
Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.
──────────────────
“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”
“Why, you wanna date me?”
Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”
“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”
“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”
“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”
“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”
Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”
“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”
Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”
“Oh, it was a secret?”
“Hyung!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”
Jihoon sneered.
Fucking Woo Soyeon.
With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.
Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.
That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.
She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.
At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.
Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.
“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”
“Sorry.”
Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”
Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”
The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”
“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”
“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”
“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”
“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”
“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”
“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”
Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.
“Actually, maybe not all men.”
Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”
“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”
“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”
“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well… you know your noona?”
──────────────────
Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.
However, your cousin still managed to do it.
“How did you do it, hyung?”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”
The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”
“Oh…”
“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”
“…yeah. I agree.”
That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.
This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.
It was past 4am now.
But he didn’t want to wait any longer.
So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.
i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am
A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.
The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.
The relief that rushed through him.
The hope that ignited in him.
That was the spark needed for him to explode.
And so he did, into words.
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”
“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”
He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.
“But it is, firefly.”
And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.
“I mean, I just—”
Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”
“Jihoon, I—”
He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”
There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.
“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…
If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,
Our future will be empty and sad.
It’s not that I want to forget you.
Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.
“I… I missed you too.”
Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”
“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.
“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”
“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”
He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”
‘We’ felt good on his tongue.
“Night, night, Jihoonie.”
“Sleep well, firefly.”
He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.
You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.
──────────────────
In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.
Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.
And the dorm was in chaos.
“He should wear the white button down!”
“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”
“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”
“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”
“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”
Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?
Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’
“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.
(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)
Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).
Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”
In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
[continue reading here]
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lilnasxvevo · 2 years
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I really like the idea of modern Song Lan going from hating Xue Yang to tolerating him or even occasionally enjoying his presence to some terrible switch flipping in his brain and suddenly having a god-awful giant crush on Xue Yang.
Xue Yang is like “Xingchen, I really thought things were going better, but now Song Lan is back to not even looking at me when we’re in the same room! What did I DO??” and normally he’s not averse to pissing people off but he didn’t MEAN to piss off Song Lan and he’s very put out that he did it on accident apparently because that makes it feel more. Personal??
And Xingchen is like (can’t lie to save his life, voice suddenly about an octave higher than usual) “I’m sure I don’t know! You’ll have to ask him about it? Have you tried asking him about it???”
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theflyingfeeling · 7 months
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fanfic rambling in the tags, nothing interesting really, just me talking to myself lol, okay to ignore or read as you please ✨
#so i've found the perfect prompt list for an olli/allu fic advent calendar sorta thing#but i'm too intimidated by my own expectations and ridiculously high standards to even start writing any of them 😭#honestly these prompts are so insanely cute and fit olli/allu PERFECTLY#like. i'm actually having trouble deciding which ones to use because i want to write them all 🥺💞#but i'm so so scared that i'll just end up writing the same (boring) story over again for 24 times 😔#i wish i could just write without thinking and trying so hard to write a literary masterpiece#when i KNOW it's alright if it's just a silly little story about my blorbos#that's perfectly enough and i know this but my brain's just not having it 😩#also if i were to write 24 independent fics i'd have to keep them short and simple but. that's not how i do fics. unfortunately (for me)#to overcome this i guess one option would be to write just one longer piece with 24 chapters#and somehow try to include the prompt of the day in each chapter 🤔#but i don't want to make this even more complicated to myself lol especially because i'm planning to write AUs for a couple of the prompts#i REALLY want to do prompts (of any kind!!) but i'm just so scared of stressing myself out to another months-long writer's block 😭#fair enough the last time that happened (last winter/spring) i was in a shitty place mentally anyway#and so far i've been happy to be writing on random bursts of inspiration. that's how it's the easiest for me. the words just...flow out#i'm so insanely jealous of anyone who can just create stuff when given any prompt 😭#y'all are super humans to me how do you do it pls spill your secrets#and anyone tempted to comfort me by saying i shouldn't stress myself over this and that i don't have to write anything i don't wanna write:#i knoooooowwww and i appreactiate the sentiment but the thing is i actually DO want to write these prompts 😭#in theory at least. because they really are cute as fuck wth 🥺#the problem is that i can't /force/ myself to write something at the snap of my fingers without a clear idea besides the prompt#and also because i know it can take me days to finish even one story let alone 24 💀#so to even START on this project is a little intimidating 🫣#i just fear i won't have the patience :(#and when i realise i won't be able to finish the project i'll become frustrated with myself#if only i knew how to write shorter one-scenes in order to not tire myself out#but often i find those kind of fics somehow...unsatisfying :(#i'm just a sucker for crafting the context/background for stories. a little flesh around the bones if you will 🤧#okay that's all now i'm gonna go stare at a wall while doing nothing useful for the rest of the weekend byeeee#if you read this far i hope you're having a nice saturday
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get-more-bald · 9 months
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NOT THE VISIBLE CONCERN AND DISGUST ON HER FACE BAHAHAHA
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for context. he's just said that he was kinda into a three meter fish guy with "luscious fins" and "a beautiful tail". and is surprised she wasn't really into it❤️
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months
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stepbro!rafe tricking you (being innocent) that he needs help but actually you cockwarm him and you ask him why you feel so weird on your privatparts and he just talks with you through it until he just cums inside you cause he couldn’t take it anymore
Hehe. 🤭
“Lock the door behind you.” Rafe’s voice said quietly as you patted into the bedroom.
You wondered why your step-brother wanted the door locked to watch a movie, but didn’t say anything as he always told you he knew best. Kicking off your furry slippers, you happily climbed into the bed where he was waiting.
“What movie are we watching Rafey?” You asked cutely, voice soft as you snuggled next to him. Your heavy tits pressed against his bicep as you looked up at him with curious eyes.
The ache ran straight to his cock as he glanced down at you. You were the fucking prettiest thing with your long eyelashes, full lips and gorgeous little body. He absolutely had to have you and he knew you would do anything to make him happy.
“Whatever you want sweetness.” He told you.
Your eyes widened at this as Rafe hardly ever let you pick. You eagerly grabbed the remote and began shuffling through one streaming app to another, not realizing your step-brother was getting a little impatient. The way you were wiggling around as you babbled on about how you couldn’t decide was making Rafe’s cock swell. Your tits bouncing with each little movement you made, nearly spilling out of the tiny silk tank top you wore.
Grabbing your hips, he sat you down in his lap to be still, not caring about the kitten like whine that left your mouth. “Sit still and pick the fucking movie. Yeah?” He said roughly.
You nodded with a bratty frown, as you finally picked the Cinderella Story. You snuggled your back further into Rafe’s chest, your ass resting snugly between his spread legs. He reached over to turn the lamp off, making the room dark except from the girly movie playing. Your eyes engrossed into the shit that he could care less about, as he leaned back against the pillows.
Half way through the movie, you didn’t even realize the large tip of your step-brother’s cock was poking at your entrance. You had been so focused on the screen that Rafe’s hands pulling your shorts aside hasn’t even crossed your mind.
“Rafey what are you-..” Your voice turning into a whimper as he pushed his cock into your warm cunt.
“Hush and watch your movie. You are gonna help me. Okay? You love helping your big bro don’t you?” He whispered in your ear.
He was right. You did love helping him. So you sat there and took it like a good step-sister. You tried your best to turn your attention back to the movie, all while your princess parts felt so full. Rafe had you right where he wanted. Tight little cunt fluttering around his fat length as he held you still, warming his cock in the process. He couldn’t help but let out a small groan as he had never felt anything so incredible.
“Rafey-why do you feel so weird?” Your voice shaky as you unknowingly soaked his cock.
“Shhh- sweetness. You just sit on my cock like a good girl.” The older boy told you, hands coming down to hold your waist firmly. He was embarrassed to say how close he was to bursting inside of you, your pussy squeezing his dick in vice grip.
Little moans and whimpers left between your lips as the weird sensation just kept getting more intense. You knew somewhere in your mind that this was wrong but your step-brother knew best didn’t he? You were helping him after all.
“Shit.. sweet girl keep squeezing me like that.” Rafe grunted, each time your cunt clenched around him when he would move even slightly. The pride he was losing at the edge of already cumming inside of you, made him want squeeze your throat in frustration. How dare his step-sister have such an incredible pussy that made him want bust his load?
He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hand instinctively coming to your throat to grab. You squeaked out his name, your smaller hand coming to rest on his as the warmth of something gooey shot up inside you.
“Such a good little slut..” Rafe barely whispered. “I mean helper. Such a good little helper.”
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nottsangel · 1 month
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the red means i love you — r.c.
pairing: dark!rafe cameron x dark!reader
warnings: 18+ smut, murder, vaginal sex, extreme violence, stabbing, blood, knifeplay (carving), bloodplay, possessive and obsessive behaviour (reader and rafe), fingering, hair pulling, slight spanking, toxic relationship, reader and rafe are both fucked in the head
word count: 5k
summary: in a relationship fueled by hidden obsession and jealousy, you and your boyfriend are more alike than you initially thought.
moodboard // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist
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You hummed along to the song blasting from your speakers, stretched out on your stomach while absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, your long nails tapping against the screen. With your boyfriend away on their annual family vacation, you were left restless and bored. Since you started dating him a year ago, you've spent practically every moment together, causing your hobbies and personal interests to gradually fade, along with your sense of individuality. He was the centre of your world, everything in your life revolved around him— you were willing to go to any lengths for him, and you knew he would do the same for you. What you both didn’t know, was how far you would be willing to go for each other.
Yawning while watching the nth slime scoopability video on your TikTok for you page, a notification popped up on your phone— rafe_cameron posted a new picture! You instantly tapped on it, having notifications turned on for a reason only to find a photo of your boyfriend on a yacht, clad in nothing but his blue swimsuit. Fuck. His defined abs, the tight shorts showing his bulge through the fabric, his hair messy and slightly wet— you instantly felt an ache between your legs, prompting you to rub your thighs together.
Though it had only been a few days since you had last seen him, his absence weighed heavy and the picture didn’t help. You found yourself analysing every single detail of the picture, but your focus kept going back to his bulge as you could practically feel his cock filling you up so perfectly like he does every night again, except for tonight. You were desperately craving his touch, and just as you were about to reach your hand into your shorts to relieve the achy feeling, your mood was ruined when you checked the comment section.
oliviaprentiss4: looking good Cameron! 😍
Bang. You threw your phone aggressively at the wall while letting out a piercing scream as your breaths grew shallow and fast, anger coursing through your veins. Fucking bitch. Of course it’s Olivia, who goes after your man every chance she gets. Despite Rafe's constant assurances that she's just a friend and nothing more, as a girl yourself, you can't help but notice the subtle flirtations — the way she twirls her blonde locks while gazing up at him with fuck-me eyes whenever they talk. You're not stupid.
You fixed your gaze intently on the wall, attempting to collect your thoughts and calm your breathing as a plan dawned upon you. Swiftly grabbing the lip gloss from the bedside table next to you, you hastily reapplied it before gathering your phone from the ground and switching to the camera app. You raised your phone in the air, pushing your tits up and pulling your top down just a tad bit, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination as you snapped a few pictures while switching poses.
Brandon is gonna fucking love these, you thought to yourself while scrolling through your camera roll, referring to a fratboy you met at a party before you started dating Rafe. You hooked up with him once, seeing him as nothing more than just a one-night stand, but he became obsessed with you after that— replying to your Instagram stories daily and asking you to hang out at least once a week. You knew he would comment if you posted a few sexy pics, and you were right.
brandontheman: cute top, but im more interested in whats under it ;)
You bit your lip as an amused but sinister smile spread across your face, knowing it would infuriate Rafe. Clicking back on his profile to check the new picture once more, you noticed new comments had been added. Your smile abruptly vanished as you glanced at Rafe's comments section again, feeling the anger that had started to subside returning with force.
rafe_cameron: @ oliviaprentiss4 Thanks liv.
Liv. He fucking calls her Liv. Fucking asshole. You muttered curses under your breath, fists clenching as your breathing quickened and your jaw tightened again. He could've simply ignored her. Or deleted her comment. Or blocked her when you started complaining about the bitch four months ago. But no— the fucking idiot calls her Liv, for everyone to see, including you.
With hands trembling from sheer rage, you redirected your attention to your phone before switching profiles. rafe_cameron. Now, you wouldn't exactly label yourself as toxic for having his profile logged in on your phone. You're just, you know, keeping an eye on him, with the best intentions after all. Even though he was unaware that you peeked into his phone to get his password when he was showering. Hmm. Okay, maybe you were a little toxic, you can admit that much. But being toxic means being smart so you went to settings and disabled notifications, ensuring Rafe wouldn’t suspect a thing before tapping on his chat with Olivia.
As you scrolled through the chat, nothing new caught your eye, which didn't come as a surprise given that you checked his profile on a daily basis. It was the usual— Olivia showering him with compliments whenever he posted a picture of himself, and him graciously thanking her. You shook your head in disbelief, your jaw tensing with anger at his consistent responses to her. She was a big problem— a serious threat to your relationship, and you desperately needed to get rid of her. You took a deep breath, hoping your plan would succeed, before typing out a message.
rafe_cameron: hey liv.
oliviaprentiss4: hey rafey!
Rafey. Oh, this bitch really wants to die.
rafe_cameron: my girlfriend is out of town tonight. wanna come over?
oliviaprentiss4: sounds good! I’ll be there at 9!! 🤍
Not a girl’s girl, huh? You scoffed at how easily she agreed to a man cheating on his girlfriend, yet a small smile tugged at your lips as it seemed that your plan was starting to take work. Now you just had to figure out how to get inside Tannyhill, but let’s be real— breaking in is the easiest part of it all.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the Cameron’s estate except for a few lights that you hastily switched on when you arrived five minutes before nine. It was quiet; the only sounds in the eerie mansion were the ticking of a clock and a few birds chirping outside.
You were impatiently sitting on the couch, waiting for Olivia, with your knee bouncing up and down— not from nerves though, but rather, excitement. A wicked grin spread across your face as you heard the doorknob turn, followed by cautious footsteps on the wooden floor. Olivia gasped audibly when she spotted you, her face flushing bright red as she stumbled over her words, too stunned to articulate a coherent sentence.
“I- Sorry, Rafe said- I mean. I thought you wouldn’t-“ “You thought what, exactly? That you could fuck my boyfriend without me knowing? God, you really are such a stupid, fucking bitch.”
Your words hit her hard, causing her to freeze in place as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. She realized she fucked up bad when she caught the insane, psychotic glare in your narrowed eyes, which was filled with unmistakable hatred directed at her. It sent shivers down her spine— she came to the stark realization that you were more than simply a jealous girlfriend; she was fearing for her life.
You rose from the couch and marched towards her, causing her to take steps back in panic, her eyes widening in terror. But you were quicker, consumed by rage. She cried out in agony as you seized a handful of her blonde hair, and violently hauled her towards the ground until she smashed into the floor with a loud thud.
“Tsk, so many men, and still, you had to choose mine. Dumbest decision you could make, Liv. And you’re gonna fucking regret it.” You hissed as you straddled her. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling disoriented from her head hitting the floor as she confusedly gazed up at you. It was over for her. You knew it, she knew it. The poor girl gulped when you took a knife out of your back pocket— the pocket knife that Rafe bought you to defend yourself from men. Oh, if only he knew. Thank you baby, best present ever.
“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I will use this cute little knife to stab you, okay? Not just once though, no, there’s no fun in that.” Now, this was the moment where she broke down in tears, pleading for you to let her go. You revelled in the sense of power, devoid of any trace of empathy, as you observed the girl's panicked state with streaks of mascara running down her face. What the fuck did she expect? It’s the consequences of her own actions.
You gripped her face tightly, sharp nails pressing into her skin as you forced her to meet your gaze, her eyes wide with fear and brimming with tears as they met yours. She was frozen in place, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of dread. “Hey, hey, just shut up for a moment and let me do my thing, okay? This is my moment and I can’t have you fucking it up. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
You paused and slowly closed your eyes, savouring the momentary bliss until Olivia interrupted you, prompting an irritated exhale and forcing your eyes to reopen. “Let me go, please! I wasn’t even gonna do anything with him! I promise!” she attempted and pleaded for one last time, despite knowing deep down that it wouldn't change anything. Your hatred was too strong, as evidenced by your eyes— the psychotic look on your face caused goosebumps to form all over her body.
“You think…” you started, breath quickening in growing anger as your jaw tensed, shaking your head and snickering in disbelief, “…you can fucking LIE TO ME?” you screamed before raising the knife in the air, not wasting any more time as she only fuelled your rage further, followed by bringing it back down, right into her chest next to her silver necklace with the letter ‘O’ attached to it. She let out a piercing scream out of agony before you quickly pulled the knife out, blood spurting in every direction possible just like in slasher movies, making you forget for a moment that this was real life. You were so caught up in the moment— it felt therapeutic in a way to finally release all of your pent-up rage.
“Don’t” stab. “touch” stab. “my” stab. “man, Liv.” stab, stab, stab.
Your heart raced as you witnessed the life drain from her ocean-blue eyes, a rush of power and exhilaration consuming you as you smiled down at her with a manic glint in your eyes. You experienced a strange sense of peace along with a wave of relief washing over you. Problem solved.
Standing up again, you had to steady yourself as you felt slightly lightheaded with adrenaline rushing through your body. You wiped the remaining blood from your face with your shirt before hearing a faint scream coming from upstairs, making you gasp as your heart beat out of your chest. What the fuck? You were convinced that no one was home, the entire Cameron family on their yearly vacation far, far away.
The screams came to an abrupt halt followed by a loud thud before hearing a person grunt, as if they were struggling while carrying something heavy. Fuck fuck fuck. This was when you started to panic. Whoever it was coming down the stairs right now was about to witness you fully covered in blood with a fucking dead body lying next to you on the floor. It was over.
“Shit man… why’s it never the skinny, short guys she fuckin’ falls for?” you heard a familiar voice complain, making you blink your eyes a few times as you saw your boyfriend descend the stairs while dragging a lifeless body behind him. “…Rafe?” you uttered, making him snap his head to the side, startled by your sweet-laced voice calling out his name.
First, his gaze fell on you, locking his blue eyes with yours, both widening in shock while staring at each other. Oh, he really fucked up, he thought, until he noticed the corpse next to you with the knife in your right hand, fresh blood dripping from it onto the floor. He then turned to face the body he was dragging down the stairs, blinking several times as he attempted to process the bizarre situation.
“Oh shit. We’re like that one Spiderman meme, babe.” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side as you watched the body comically fall down each step with a thud, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind. Rafe looked at you in astonishment, before his face quickly turned into one of absolute fury with nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. You knew that look on your boyfriend’s face— he was about to freak the fuck out. “ooohh my god, oh my god… what— what the FUCK are you doing?!”
Your face instantly dropped as you scoffed at the hypocrisy, “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing?” you hurriedly marched towards him, casually stepping over the girl’s lifeless body with the bloody knife still in your right hand. With your faces merely inches away, you stared into his enraged, narrowed blue eyes before turning your attention to the body resting against the stairs. Brandon. The poor boy has been beaten to death with what you assume Rafe’s baseball bat, which has been sitting in the corner of his room untouched for quite some time, always leaving you wondering why he still had that thing. Well, that question was answered now. Brandon’s face was nearly unrecognisable, it was not a nice sight. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and it was clear Rafe used Brandon’s body to get all his aggression out.  
Your attention was then drawn to the once-white carpet he was standing on, which was now ruined and completely covered in blood. “Oh, and real smart, Rafe. Letting a body bleed all over your fucking carpet. What are you gonna tell your family, huh?” You snorted, taking in the mess that Rafe had made all over the house.
“That’s… that’s what you’re fuckin’ worried about here!? Just… I—  I don’t know, say you were on your period or some shit, jesus.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously not thinking about the fucking carpet right now as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts while squinting his eyes, still trying to figure out who the body was on the other end of the room.
“Is that— is that Oliv-“ “ON MY PERIOD, RAFE?! I’D BE FUCKING DEAD ALREADY IF THAT’S HOW MUCH I BLEED EACH MONTH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
Rafe briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, attempting to block out your exasperating voice but failing miserably as it was the only thing he could hear at that moment. His breathing accelerated and his eyes narrowed as his frustration reached its boiling point, his vision blurred with a red haze of anger before punching a hole in the wall, the impact echoing throughout the room, sending shockwaves of sound outward. “FUCK! Why do you— why you always gotta fuck things up for us, huh? Can’t you just be a normal fucking girlfriend for once? Jesus fucking christ.”
A normal girlfriend? Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces at his words. Each syllable fell like a knife to the heart, leaving you more vulnerable and hurt. In that moment, you realized with a sense of sorrow that no matter how much you loved him, it would never be enough. Tears from sheer rage and heartache began to well up in your eyes as your grip on the knife tightened. You felt so misunderstood— why couldn’t he just see that no girl could ever love him the way you do? That everything you do is for him?
“I— I did this for you, Rafe, for us. Can’t you fucking see that? She was gonna— fuck—  she was gonna ruin what we have!” you spoke in a trembling but urgent voice, swaying the knife in front of his face as blood splattered all over the walls, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, you hear me? ANYTHING! Nothing is ever gonna get between us, Rafe. And no one— no one will ever love you more than I do.” His eyes were eerily still, devoid of any trace of humanity, as he stood frozen, listening to your ramblings. It only fuelled your rage more, as you so desperately tried to get it through his head that you did it for him, with the best intentions, but Rafe gave no reaction.
“I just—  I just don’t get it… How the FUCK is this my-“ you continued with tears streaming down your face but gasped when you were abruptly interrupted by Rafe grabbing your face, leaving a red blood imprint on your cheek before pushing you against the cold wall followed by his lips meeting yours in a fervent urgency. His body was pressed against yours with his hand gripping the back of your head, pushing you deeper into him to intensify the kiss as your tongues danced together. At that moment, all your surroundings melted away as you were lost in the overwhelming need for each other.
Because oddly, it turned him on— your insanity turned him on. It stirred a sensation of warmth, a tingling feeling, and a deep sense of gratitude within him. Knowing someone loved him to the point of being willing to do anything for him, even if that meant killing— that was all Rafe needed in his lonely existence, longing for someone to love him with the same intensity he felt for them. Rafe Cameron just needed to be loved.
“You’re— you’re… fuckin’ perfect.” Rafe whispered, his voice laced with an unfamiliar sweetness as his blue eyes intensely gazed into yours. Perfect? You blinked a few times as you shook your head, unable to process the sudden change in demeanour. “W-what?” you stared at him before he cupped your face with both hands, a look of solace and devotion on his blood-stained face. “Listen to me, yeah? ‘m never gonna let you go, I fuckin’ promise that. I’d do anything for you— anything, you hear me? Gonna take good fuckin’ care of my girl, a’ight?”
A relieved smile graced your lips, a chuckle escaping as you found comfort before you leaned in to kiss him once more, the embrace deeper and more intense than before, filled with longing and desire. He pushed you towards the couch, making you stumble backwards while feeling more aroused with each step you took. It was a bizarre scene— both of you covered in fresh blood, hungrily touching every part of each other’s bodies, with two corpses on the floor next to you, still bleeding all over. But that wasn’t any of your concern at that moment. All you cared about was how his skilled hands moved over your skin, making you crave him even more.
Rafe, on the other hand, felt he still had something to prove— as if murdering a man wasn’t enough. He needed you to know how good he could make you feel. He needed you to understand that no man on this planet could treat you better than him. You could see it in his lustful eyes as he pushed you back on the couch, followed by him crawling on top of you and attacking your still blood-covered neck with hungry kisses. The ticklish feeling of Rafe’s mouth made you giggle as the metallic tang of blood flooded his senses, coating his tongue with an iron bitterness that lingered long. He didn’t know whose blood it even was, maybe both of theirs together mixed with yours, by the way he was so aggressively biting and sucking on your skin.
“Mine. All fuckin’ mine. Got it?” he snarled as he withdrew and grasped your face tightly, forcing you to look him into his intense eyes. You agreed with a nod, flashing a naughty smile as you gazed up at him coyly through your lashes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t wanna go around killin’ the entire neighbourhood.” He growled, before trailing his lips to your earlobe, gently sucking on it as his expensive cologne filled your nostrils. “But I will if I have to.” His voice raspy as he spoke, making you become wetter with each passing second.
“Hm, i don’t doubt that.” You remarked before a moan escaped your lips caused by Rafe’s hand groping your tits under your shirt, massaging them over the laced bra that he bought for you. “But know that I would kill the entire female population of the Outer Banks.” He couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, still wrapping his head around just how insane his girlfriend truly was. “You’re so fucked in the head, shit.“ he whispered, pulling your bra down and toying with your nipples, making you bite your lip, “Just how I like it.”
Rafe then grabbed the knife from where you had dropped it next to the couch, skilfully twirling it a few times. You observed him with a rush of anticipation, uncertain of his intentions. He slid the knife beneath your top, eliciting a gasp as he swiftly sliced through the fabric, ruining your clothes, before repeating the action with your shorts.
“Rafe, what the fuck!” You hissed in annoyance as he destroyed your clothes. “Those were my favourites! Oh, don’t you fucking dare do the same with my underwear” It was evident he wasn't taking you seriously, the smug smile on his face only grew bigger before he slipped the knife under your bra and cut it open as well in one swift motion.
“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know I can buy you anything you want, yeah?” Your lace underwear was next, leaving you inwardly agitated as he cut the fabric and flung it across the room. Seeing your dejected expression, he released an exasperated sigh. “Stop with the whining. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, a’ight?”
He seized you by the hips and quickly turned you around, pressing your face into the cushion before you could comprehend what was happening as in an instant, you found yourself face down with your ass up, angled towards him. “Fuckin’ soaked already, huh?” He suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and raised your head, then stuck his blood-covered fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his digits with a mixture of blood and drool running down your chin while feeling his clothed boner press against your bare ass. “Yeah— that’s right baby. Lick my fingers clean like a good fuckin’ girl.” You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs before Rafe scooped it up with his now clean fingers and slipped them into you from behind, making you let out a hitched breath at the sudden sensation as you moaned his name.
It didn’t take long for his digits to find your g-spot as he skilfully rubbed against it, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your pornographic moans combined with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you made it difficult for him to control himself any longer, so he abruptly pulled out, causing you to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “You bitch! I was so fucking close!” Rafe’s hand reeled back before you felt a stinging pain on your ass, making you jolt forward on the couch. “Watch that fuckin’ mouth if you wanna cum.”
You heard the unbuckling of a belt behind you followed by feeling Rafe’s erection teasing your folds, dragging the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your wetness. Growing increasingly impatient, you tried to push yourself back onto his cock, to no avail as he held your hips firmly. “Aww, poor girl wants it bad, huh?” his voice laced with faux sympathy. “Then beg for it.”
“Rafe just fucking do-“ your words were quickly interrupted by him grasping your hair and leaning down to your eye level. “I said fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Fuck. Please, okay! I need to feel you! Just, please, fuck me” Rafe pushed himself into you in one quick thrust, swallowed by your warmth as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He gave you no time to adjust as he stretched you out completely, causing a brief sensation of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. He let out a sigh at the feeling, one hand on your lower back and the other on your hip as he quickly set a brutal pace— deep, erratic thrusts hitting your sweet spots so perfectly. Your nails scraped against the leather of the couch, nearly tearing it apart as you pushed yourself back onto Rafe’s cock, making him grunt at the sight. He massaged your inner walls so perfectly, making you moan his name loudly over and over again.
Rafe suddenly stopped in his tracks, cautioning, “Stay still or this will hurt, like bad, a’ight?”, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion before hearing him reach for the knife once again from next to him, sending a gulp down your throat. You tensed, anticipating the sensation, well aware of what was about to happen, just as you felt the sharp edge of the blade against your delicate skin while he was still balls deep inside of you. “So fuckin’ pretty all covered in blood, shit.” You could feel the letters he was etching into your skin— R.C., his initials. Once he was done, he tossed the knife on the floor before quickly pulling out, causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling as he leaned down, licking up your blood that was dripping from the fresh wounds, mingling with Olivia's still-stained blood on your skin. “Forever mine.”
Rafe slapped your ass once again, causing you to cry out from the stinging pain of his hand making contact with the fresh carvings on your skin. “Now, where were we?” He slipped into you again as he mercilessly continued his thrusts, strangled noises leaving your mouth at the sudden feeling. He noticed your moans were muffled by the pillow so he grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it firmly, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.
“Shit, look at ya now. Not so tough anymore, huh?” Rafe groaned as he pounded into you, his brutal thrusts making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your vision started to blur. “Shut— up.” You muttered in between his thrusts, your mind all fuzzy as his tip repeatedly hit your cervix. You clenched around him when he kept hitting that one spot inside you, the pleasure building as you could feel his cock twitching inside you.
You arched your back with your eyes fluttering shut as felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m— I’m so fucking close, oh my god” You moaned out with your mouth agape, nails digging deep into the skin of his arm that was wrapped around your body as the sensation became too much for you.
“Come f’me, doll. Gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good” Rafe’s hand snaked around your body to rub fast circles on your sensitive clit, making you moan loudly as your orgasm abruptly struck you, causing you to clench hard around his cock with buckling knees. All your muscles tensed as you saw stars, a wave of pleasure fully overtaking you with Rafe still pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. He came not too long after you, slow and drawn-out curses spilling from his lips with his head thrown back as you could feel the familiar pool of warmth fill you up to the brim, completely emptying himself inside of you as his orgasm hit him.
He rode out his high before he carefully pulled out as your chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, each breath a struggle to fill your lungs with air while trying to regain your breath. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Rafe praised, staring at your cum-dripping cunt with a grin on his face.
As you opened your eyes, the harsh reality crashed over you like a wave, sending a shiver down your spine at the sight of the lifeless bodies lying across the floor. Panic laced your voice as you turned to face Rafe, desperation evident in your words. "Rafe? What the fuck are we going to do with the bodies?"
His response was surprisingly calm, his tone carrying an unsettling assurance. "Don't worry ‘bout that. I'll take care of it, a’ight?"
The eerie composure in his voice sent a chill down your spine, hinting at a familiarity with murdering that made your stomach churn. "What? How— how do you know how to clean up bodies?"
A sinister smirk crept onto his handsome features, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion and disbelief before his blue eyes stared deep into yours, holding you in their gaze with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Princess, what do you think happened to poor Jake last month? And Dylan before that?”
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
“I think I’m going to move to Gotham,” Jazz’s tapped away at her laptop, clicking through her college acceptance letters. Danny sat up from where he was scrolling through his phone and stared at her. “Thoughts?”
“And prayers,” he sassed. “Because you’re going to need them. Why the would you pick Gotham when Harvard accepted you?”
“Gotham has Arkham. And Doctor Quinzel.”
“Isn’t she Harley Quinn? The Crime Princess of Gotham?”
“Yeah, and an acclaimed psychologist with hundreds of published work that revolutionized the mental health field! Sure, she’s more criminally inclined now, but I’d kill to pick her brains.”
Danny grinned. “Interesting word choice. You’d fit right in. It’s just weird that all of their psychologists turned into villains.”
“Okay, but I won’t. You’d stop me.”
“Or I’d join you,” Danny rolled back onto the floor.
“Don’t you dare, Daniel Fenton. You’d better stop me if I went villain.”
“But I feel like you’d have a pretty good reason for it though?”
“I appreciate the trust, dumbass, but I’m always this close to loosing it.” Jazz rolled her eyes as she jabbed a finger at Danny.
“Hah! You’ll fit right into Gotham!”
Jazz hummed. “So, Gotham?”
“Yeah, why not?”
——
“Danny!”
“Little busy!” Danny dodged a blast from a GIW agent.
“Why’d you pick up, then?”
“You don’t call often- hey, can you guys knock it off? I’m on a call!” Danny shouted. Surprisingly the agents stopped.
“Woah. You guys actually stopped?”
“We’re anti-ghost, not rude cavemen. Finish your call, Phantom, so we can get back to capturing you.” The agent with red hair said. Her partner nodded their head.
“Riiiight.” Phantom floated away a bit. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked Jazz.
“So, Dr. Quinzel-”
Danny heard a further off “Call me Harley, darling!”
“Harley,” Jazz continued seamlessly. “Is dating Ivy, a meta! Which, totally cute and their relationship is so healthy. Goals, honestly-”
Danny heard another far off comment, “Awe, thanks, Jazzy-wazzy!”
“But long story short, they got in touch with the Justice League about the GIW and they’re getting pulled back! And disbanded! Are you fighting the agents? Can you see if they’ve got the order to pull back?”
“Wait, seriously?” Danny perked up, the exhaustion from the fight all but gone. “I’ll ask.”
Danny turned to the two agents, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Hey! Did you guys get orders to stop hunting me? I heard the Justice League got involved.”
“What? We didn’t-”
“Shit, wait, we got orders.” Her partner jabbed their phone at her.
“Fuck. This isn’t over, Phantom!”
“Yeah, yeah! Shoo!” Danny watched them peel away. “Thanks, Jazz! Maybe I’ll finally get a peaceful school year.”
“R.I.P.” Jazz solemnly intoned.
“Dead-ass.” Danny replied, just as seriously before the both of them broke. Cackling, Danny said goodbye to Jazz.
“Maybe I should get some gifts? Hm… Undergrowth has some rare plants.” Danny muttered as he flew back home.
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kitscutie · 4 months
Text
public eye (drew starkey x fem!reader)
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pairing: drew starkey x reader
warnings: none, all cute shiz and some sexy moments. ;) shotgunning smoke, make out.
summary: all the times the public thought the two of you were dating, and the one time they knew.
a/n: sorry I've been on such a long break, life got a bit busy recently but i'm hoping to get back into writing - especially for drew! also sorry if the use of arse scares anyone - im british x
requests open!
word count: 1.8k
You and Drew has always been close. The cast were aware, the fans were aware. Ever since season one of Outer Banks came out, and both of your statuses grew, people began to dig. Your relationship friendship dated all the way back to your teenage years, doing multiple high school theatre shows together, and going on to attend the same University.
This also meant that there were a lot of photos and videos of the two of you being stupid kids, and while you had never explicitly said you were dating, even denying it to this day, there were early on suspicions.
A main one being the hundreds of photos together at family events, arms wrapped around each other, in some his jacket thrown over your shoulders as weddings went on into the night.
Though, the more incriminating stuff came much more recently, as now people knew who you were and so what was and wasn't posted was no longer in your control.
→ Sleeping Angels
The first video to cause rumours was posted onto Chase's story. It was short, only fifteen seconds or so, meaning no one was really concerned about what it might cause.
It was clearly from the set of OBX as the trailer surrounding you was littered with both cast and crew members, all shuffling around while you and drew were the complete contrast.
The pair of you were lying (quite comfortably) on a leather l-shaped sofa in the corner of the room. You could hear what you assumed to be Chase and Rudy giggling as they approached, laughing at how tightly Drew held you to him.
You were wrapped closely into his chest, arms lying softly on his wait while on of his held the back of your head, the other tucked under your t-shirt (which was actually your characters wardrobe and not your own) sitting on your back.
They couldn't see your face, but judging by Drew's closed eyes they could assume you were asleep.
Ever so gently the boys began to take gummy worms from their pockets. Each placing one in both of Drew's ears, and finally one was wedged into his mouth which woke him up.
At first, he was confused, looking down at you but upon seeing you still asleep his eyes looked up, squinting to avoid the lights. Unable to hide their humour at the situation anymore Chase and Rudy burst into laughter, Drew joining but much quieter due to his sleepy state as he threw the gummy worms back at the pair.
The removal of his hand on your back is what brought you back to the non-sleeping world. Hearing a mumbled 'fuck off' from Drew as he smiled at the two boys.
"What's happening?" You mumbled, utterly confused, hair sticking up in every direction and Drew quickly attempted to smooth it down maintaining your dignity as you were filmed.
"Nothing. Ignore these idiots ba-." The camera quickly shut off, leaving the viewers intrigued. What had Drew been about to say? Was it an accident? It was all unclear.
Of course with obsessed fans it didn't take long for rumours to fly, the main one being that the words coming out of his mouth were to be 'baby'. They were right. Thought you wouldn't tell them that, not yet at least.
→ Poguelandia
The next clip to blow up and cause hysteria was the two of you at the Outer Banks season three event 'Poguelandia'. You had arrived together and explored together, alongside Austin, your arm linked through the two boys'.
You talked to fans, played minigames and drank. Drank a lot. Which you blamed for your obliviousness when acting a bit too close to Drew for someone who wasn't dating him. To be fair, he also could've avoided it and yet neither of you did.
It happened as the cast and close friends stood atop the exclusive stage, all singing and dancing together as bands played - especially when 'Left hand free' came on.
You mostly behaved for the first twenty minutes, dancing with Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia but soon you wanted to spend some time with Drew, tending to get clingy when tipsy.
You began your walk over as the video begun, Madelyn attempting to grab your arm but it was a futile attempt as now, with him in your sights, you were determined.
The girls looked concerned before Austin- who was stood with Drew- leaned over and whispered something to them all, waving off their concern as they continued to dance and the camera now panned to you and the much taller boy.
You were talking, pressed against the edge of the silver fence which kept you from falling as the crowd kept growing around you.
As you got bumped by an unknown person Drew wrapped his arm around your waist, offering you a sip of his drink which you gladly took but soon regretted as you realised it was beer.
He chuckled with a smirk already knowing you didn't like it. Then he said something, but as the camera was miles away the viewers began to assume, and being reasonable, it did look awfully similar to 'sorry, sweetheart' before you received a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Soon after you joking turned away in annoyance, facing the stage and beginning to sway, your front pressed against the fence, back against Drew's stomach. He wrapped his hand around your waist, beginning to sway with you and you could tell the Filmer subtly freaked out as the camera jolted for a few seconds before it zoomed in further.
It showed Austin wide eyed as he searched the crowd for anyone watching. Not seeing anyone he shrugged taking a sip from his plastic cup before once again dancing with a smile.
Unfortunately, he had been wrong and once again your and Drew's relationship was being speculated.
→ Italy
The final clip of you and Drew which went viral without real confirmation of anything more than a close friendship was while he was filming in Italy.
After being spotted out and about alone for months, suddenly you appeared by his side wearing a pretty sundress, once again arm linked through his.
He wore a cap and you both wear sunglasses, looking like typical celebrities avoiding being spotted, though now it was known he had been here for months it was near impossible.
You were stood calmly in a corner attempting to navigate the way to a restaurant you were going to try when a small group of girls approached you both.
They explained they were big fans of Outer Banks and both of your characters in said show, asking very politely for a photograph in their adorable Italian accents.
They began screen recording in order to be able to capture the whole interaction, as fans often did and it was decided you would take the photo as you were in the middle, the girls on one side, drew on the other.
The viewers watched as you took the phone, hand briefly passing the camera showing a thick silver band ring, in it was a delicately carved cursive 'D'.
As soon as the girls watched the video back and saw it they posted the video to Tik Tok, it garnering as much attention as you imagined it would when showing something so potentially interesting.
What they didn't expect, however, was the further observations. The most major being the necklace that had been in almost every photo of Drews for the past few years, the charm which hung from the end now looked weirdly similar to your necklace, and the viewers couldn't help but wonder if it was a matching one of his own, with your initial carved instead of his.
It was.
→ The Conformation.
The final and real proof to all the fans who suspected you and Drew may be together was a video of the two of you at a cast night out in South Carolina at a club.
The two of you were stood outside of said club, clearly trying to cool down as both of you faces were red, Drew's shirt unbuttoned at the top, his chest rosy must like his cheeks.
He was leant against the wall of the club, legs wide as you stood between them, hands placed on his hips ever so slightly holding his shirt between your fingers.
Your dress which was black and almost fully covered in diamonds shimmered under the moonlight and you could see mouth something along the lines of 'you look beautiful' followed by you leaning forward, burying your smiling face into his neck.
His hand, which wasn't holding a lit cigarette came up to hold the back of your head, throwing his own back against the bricks in a laugh, clearly finding your bashfulness cute.
Soon enough the conversation turned from casual to flirty, body language changing in a way so blatant, you could tell from the other side of the screen.
Your hands moved from his waist to around his neck, hands linked behind his head as his spare hand held your waist, thumb soothing over the fabric covered skin every once in a while.
Realising his cigarette had been left unattended for a while, Drew brought it up to his lips, inhaling deeply. A wordless conversation ensued between the two of you as he brought you closer, mouths inches from each other as he exhaled into your mouth.
The smirk was evident on his lips as you blew the smoke from yours in turn, quickly pulling you in once again - this time your mouths connecting in a speedy rhythm.
You struggled to keep up due to his height, stretching onto your tip toes even in the platform boots you had put on for this very reason. He realised this, laughing, eyes still closed and lips still next to yours as he decided to lean down further to meet you instead.
As the kiss grew more intense, tongues now making appearance and putting on a show for the whole street, his hands reached down (having long since threw the cigarette to the ground) holding your arse between his palms.
Sadly, your moment was put to an end as a relieved looking JD ran out of the clubs door, seeing the two of you.
He patted you on the back, a blush covering his cheeks - from the heat or the intrusion it was unclear - and said something to the two of you before leaving and giving you a moment to gather yourselves.
You both stood up fixing your postures and straightening each others clothes before you shared one final peck, soon after heading inside, hands entangled.
Soon after, the video was posted onto every single social media platform with the caption, Y/N L/N AND DREW STARKEY MAKE IT OFFICAL DURING STEAMY KISS OUTSIDE SOUTH CAROLINA CLUB.
If only they knew you had been dating for years and this was most definitely not the first 'steamy kiss' the two of you had shared.
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kissforyouu · 4 months
Text
...THAT is your boyfriend?
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pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc
genre : fluff
warning : mention of drugs , little bit of angst
request : tiktok
a/n : sorry this is rlly short but LONGER drabbles of this story r comingggg js need to get them out of the drafts LOL
unedited.
this is like after about 3 months into their relationship btw!
"padamdam damdamdampadamdam, tupadadadadadamdam..." you speak nonsense, hand around your boyfriend's arm as you scrolled through your phone.
jungkook huffs, giving you the side eye. "what are you even saying?"
"shush, don't say anything." you comment, giving him a small glare and going back to doing whatever you were doing on the phone.
"yes, ma'am."
you both were at the mall shopping, going from aisle to aisle looking for cute clothes. mostly for you. jungkook didn't really care about what he wore. just some dark coloured clothes and a few rings will do for him.
"i was...hmmm...ah! this is what i was looking for earlier." you show your boyfriend your phone which displayed a picture of a plastic figure of cinnamonroll.
"the fuck is that?" he couldn't help but laugh a little, taking the phone from your grasp and zooming into the figure.
"it's cinnamonroll." you give him a sour look. how could he not know!
"i swear, it was pink before." he kisses his teeth, tilting his head to the side, curious about the mysterious bunny (not) figure.
"baby, that was poron. his sister." you correct him. "it's a HE?" jungkook's jaw falls a little, turning to look at you with a shocked expression. yeah. i felt the same when i found out too.
"it's okay. me too. can't believe i was supporting a MAN. but he's really cute, i love him!" you smile. jungkook glances at your face then back at the phone with a small smile forming in the corner of his lips.
"okay, where do we find this guy?" he asks.
"YAY!"
that was before you grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him out of the store.
"mm, jungkook, nooo, it has to be here!" you sigh, going through each of the figures displayed on front. he just hums, not really paying any mind to your misery.
a few minutes pass by and you were still searching for the little guy. at this point, jungkook was getting a little tired. he looks over to you who was crouched down, going through a pile of figures in a basket. he decides to take matters into his own hands and find this little guy for his girlfriend.
so jungkook walks away from you across the store to the cashier, asking for help. he shows a picture of the figure to the cashier, and while he goes through their computer trying to find if he's still in stock, jungkook wonders why you didn't do this first. dumb little girl, he thinks.
"sorry sir, seems like it's out of stock." the cashier speaks. jungkook thanks him, walking back to you. but plot twist! you were gone!
but something catches jungkook's attention. some guy holding your bag outside the store. what?
the corner of his lip twitched upwards, to not to form a smile but rather to form a scowl. what was some rando doing with your bag? he was leaning against the wall with a grin, examining your bag like he owned it.
jungkook walks upto the guy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. the guy turns around to look at him, raising his head up. shortass, jungkook thought.
"why do you have her bag with you?" he points at the bag.
"what? why are you asking?" the guy furrows his eyebrows, his lips twitching up to a sour expression.
"because it's my girlfriend's bag, dumbfuck. where's she?"
girlfriend? the guy scans jungkook from top to bottom. long hair, tatted arms, piercings. y/n can't be possibly be into...that? she can do so much better. the guy looks like he's on drugs. he probably is! he thinks.
"no way y/n's dating a druggy like you." the guy laughs mockingly, clutching onto the purse.
"alright, little man. fuckin tell me where my girl is or i'll pluck your toenails out one by one." he looked as if he was about to beat up the guy then and there, and he probably was too.
"fucking hell, man. god, there she is!" the guy rubs the back of his head, clearly annoyed as he moved away from jungkook. meanwhile, jungkook immediately turns around to see you walking towards both of them with a confused look.
"where were you?" you ask.
"no, where were YOU? and who's this fucker holding your shit?" he points at the guy who's walking towards you. confidently too. as if he knows you better than anyone else. jungkook's jealous, it doesn't take a genius to understand that. angry too. really fucking pissed that this shortass little man is interrupting their date.
before you could answer, the guy cut you off.
"y/n, here's your stuff. and i don't know who this is, but he's—
"i'm her boyfriend, dumbfuck!" jungkook shouts, frustrated.
"is he?" he turns to look at you for confirmation.
"yeah...?" you nod.
"you never told me?" the guy scoffs.
"i don't have to tell you about everything going on in my life?" you frown.
"y/n, he looks like he cheats on you with a different girl every week." the guy comments.
okay no, what the fuck. you're not going to tolerate some meanass comment about your boyfriend. but you also don't want to cause a scene. okay, nevermind—
"the fuck did you just say?" jungkook's clearly offended. but before he could do more, you grab onto his arm and pull him back.
"let's go." you say. he didn't really reply to you, but just gave you a scoff. okay. he's not disagreeing either.
"matheo, i'll talk to you later." you don't even bother giving the guy a smile, but just drag jungkook away.
"what was that all about?" you squeeze his biceps. jungkook pulls his arm away from you, rolling his eyes.
"nothin." he mumbles.
not wanting to continue this topic further, you just nod.
but it's odd. it's been about 30 minutes and jungkook hasn't said anything to you except replying to whatever you tell him. he's also been keeping a small distance from you. what's wrong again. ugh.
"baby, what's wrong?" you look at your boyfriend who was sitting across you mindlessly scrolling on his phone. he raises his head up to take one glance at you but looks back down immediately. instead, he just shakes his head.
"no, i know something's wrong." you protest.
jungkook sighs, placing his phone on the table before finally looking at you.
"you really want me to tell you?" he asks, his expression rather serious. uh oh. you messed up. but fine, you'll take it. you hesitantly nod your head, nervously scratching your skirt with your nails.
"i'm tired of keeping this private. i know you wanted time till you felt like telling people, but it's been 3 months already and we still haven't told a single soul."
oh!
"i don't want to run into guys like that ever again. fucking shortass. you know i care about you and respect your feelings, right? but i just...you know, want to tell people. it's fine if you still wanna wait. but this is just how i feel." he sighs, turning his head to look away.
you couldn't help but pout a little at his confession. you know he's right. it's been 3 months.
"okay. let's tell people. i'm sorry for making you wait that long. and thank you for telling me, gguk." you smile at your boyfriend who's eyes lit up at the mention of you finally publicly posting about your relationship.
"you're sure about this?" he re-checks.
you nod in approval!
"fucking finally. i can beat up every guy who approaches you now."
"okay, no no no no." you laugh, disagreeing COMPLETELY. you knew he wasn't joking either.
ᥫ᭡
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taglist: @fungie233 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt
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toji-bunny-girl · 5 months
Text
𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓✩’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓
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CHARACTERS— Santa!Gojo Satoru x pretty sexy gorgeous fem!reader SUMMARY— Supposedly another Christmas night being lonely and horny, you’re suddenly woken up by Santa coming to claim you your Christmas gift. WORD COUNT— 3k+ CONTENT WARNING— slight angst, swearing, smut, porn with plot, virginity lost, fingering, clit sucking, oral sex, no protection A/N— Merry Christmas, my fellow bitchless angels 😔 Ya’ll better not let this shit flop or else I’m going insane. btw guys God literally told me face-to-face that my dog is cuter than your pet 😨 it’s true tho
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“So,” your co-worker, Mina started as she haled the roll-up gate down, flipping her long extensions behind her shoulder before grabbing the lock from your extended hand, “got any plans this Christmas?”
“I don’t know…I’ll probably go out with my friends to the new cat cafe. You?” you watched as her fingers worked deftly to lock the gate before trying to pull it open in an attempt to make sure she got it locked.
“Kai wants to visit Ginzan Onsen, said it’ll be the best place to ‘make love’ or something. I mean, long story short he thinks it’s a cute place to fuck,” Mina apprised, always a little bit too forward with her wordings—her bold personality and style amolous from yours.
Albeit she’s amiable and kind, you still couldn’t quite get used to her blatant forwardness despite working with her for the past 5 months. And Mina loved teasing you about how sensitive you are; already blushing from the mere word ‘fuck’.
“Look at how cute you are, (Y/N). Your face is starting to get red!” she giggled, pointing as you hit her arm, feeling your cheeks warming against the cold winter air. “You know, they say the shy-est are usually the kinkiest…”
“Just leave me alone, Mina!” you embarrassingly whined, slapping a palm over her glossed lips before pushing her away. She lets out a few satisfied laughs before raising her hands up in capitulation, already knowing when to stop before you get irritated at her.
“Alright, I’m sorry, ‘kay baby?” she cooed, plump lower lips jutting out into a pout as she wrapped her arms around your waist.
“You keep teasing me,” you frowned and pushed her stubborn hands off of you before you began walking towards the train station.
“Cuz’ you’re so cute. You’re always acting like such a virgin,” her arm hung over your shoulders and your body sunk forward at the sudden weight.
“Now, is there a problem with that…” you spoke lowly, flickering your sight towards her, wary of her reaction.
“You cannot be shitting me?!” Mina widened her eyes, two elder couples turning their attention on her egregious tone, “I mean like, look at you! You’re so pretty and such a good girl. Who wouldn’t want you?! I want you!”
“I don’t know…I just haven’t met the one.”
“There’s tons of guys who want you, (Y/N)! You gotta be a little bold, get out of your shell if you wanna meet ‘your one’.”
“Man…I just wish someone perfect for me who isn’t a creep would come to me,” you sighed, your hand holding onto Mina’s dangling one over your neck. Nearing the station, you could see Kai, her boyfriend already waiting by the entrance for her—probably heading to dinner together later on.
“You’ll find one for sure,” she glanced at you, a bright reassuring smile on her face, and you returned her one before feeling the weight on your shoulders lifted when she pulled her arm away, then waved at Kai.
“So, how was work today?” the male strode over, his two hands reaching out to hold Mina’s from the pockets of his coat before turning to greet you.
“It’s fine, lots of couples today,” she replied, following as you passed the ticket gate and rode the escalator up to the platform. “And as usual, we got a few single lads asking for our pretty girl’s Line today.”
“Yeah, and you forgot to add that they’re either delinquents or high school boys,” the two couples chortled as you sighed, tired of how you’re always attracting guys who are definitely not your type.
“We’re gonna have to get security for our candy shop because of our (Y/N), huh?” Mina joked, nudging Kai’s side with her shoulder as you rolled your eyes.
Within seconds, the bells signaling the coming arrival of the train started, the train announcer apprising the next destination as Shinjuku-sanchōme—20 minutes until you reach your home station.
“Sorry, (Y/N). Kai and I are gonna ride another train to Shinbashi so we can’t go in with you,” the train had arrived and the doors slid open as workmen and women surged in like sea waves.
“No, no! It’s fine. Happy holidays, guys,” you smiled as you began to follow the crowd into the half-packed train.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N)!” the two bid, Mina waving all the while.
“Enjoy your trip to Ginzan, you two!” you giggled, slightly waving back before jumping onto the train just as its doors began to slide close. The smell of heater and sweat filled your nose and as you swiftly scanned your sight around, you saw most smiling at their phones, probably texting their loved ones, and a few couples giggling in their seats.
Another lonely Christmas, you thought.
Your stomach was growling as you prowled the streets for the nearest convenience store. The sky was already blanketed with darkness and you thought visiting any restaurant would only mount your forlornness, so you figured a quick meal from the store would do for your hunger.
The luminously salient sign of your local convenience store caught your eyes from a distance away, and you hurriedly scorched towards the store. Entering, the cashier greeted you when the automated door slid open with a ding to announce your presence, and you nodded your head with a smile before trodding your way to the back where packed bentos were.
Your eyes raked over the bentos, looking for your favourite Katsudon to find it absent from the display. A surge of annoyance rose in you as your brow knitted into a frown, ‘Can’t even have my Katsudon, huh?’. Grabbing the nearest bento instead, you made your way to the cashier while rummaging through your bag for your wallet.
“Do you want your bento heated up, miss?” the male mooted, a serviceable smile on his face. He caught your affirmative hum before setting the food in the microwave, and silence then transpired between the two of you.
The smell of the heating fried rice pervaded through the air in the wake of the anticipated ‘ding’. The cashier took out the bento and wrapped it in a plastic bag before handing you both the plastic and a card, “Thank you for your purchase, and Merry Christmas!”
You thanked the male and claimed your things before heading out of the store with another ‘ding’, throwing the card into the plastic bag and burying your hands deep in the warmth of your pockets.
What seemed to be your wontedly peaceful route back home suddenly became a path of silent lonesomeness. At that moment, you must be colder than anyone else in Japan. While they have the love and heat of a lover to warm them up—you had no one but yourself.
The walk home was longer than usual and you immediately turned on the heater when you entered your apartment, feeling your limbs beginning to numb. Taking out a few beer cans from the fridge, you set them on the small chabudai along with your cooling packed dinner—ready to scarf down your meal.
It took you an empty bento box and two beer cans to notice the Christmas card the cashier gave you on the wooden floor, probably dropped when you took the packaged meal out of the plastic bag. You could feel yourself getting tipsy as the alcohol set in your veins, rushing to your brain and making it all light and woozy.
“Christmas…Wish?” you read the bold, cursive title aloud, eyes absorbing the contents on the card.
Write a wish on this card and Santa shall grant what you seek!
Aren’t these for kids or something? Why would the cashier give you something like this? It’s obviously fake, but for you to think of a wish…you would love to be a millionaire. Or a billionaire. Or have a pet cat. Or…
Heading to your bedroom to get your pen, you trodded back to the chabudai where the card was, taking your time to ruminate on what to write just for the fun of it. Perhaps it was the alcohol thumping in your pulse, absorbing whatever sense you have in your head as it passed your bloodstream—you found yourself injudiciously scribbling something you normally wouldn’t.
Lose my virginity. 
Fire popped beneath the skin of your cheeks as you stared at the piece of card with your writing on it. “I must have gotten insane…” you sighed, rubbing your eyebrows.
Maybe a wash would clear your head, you thought. The beer was making you drowsy and you’d better have an early night. You don’t take long with your shower and you were quick to set your things aside and take out the trash.
It was only 10 but you’ve already settled yourself in your bed, sleepiness blanketing over your head. Your eyelids began to shut, sending you to an abyss of peace and dream.
Then, there was shuffling. And mumbles.
Your consciousness drew back to reality and through your dazed state—you tried to make sense of the noises. Until you began to sober up, there was no one but you in your apartment. No pets nor roommates to be making up all these sounds.
“Who’s there?” you panicked, straining your eyes through the dark, to find a tall silhouette in your room. A sense of aghast rumbled through your being and a shriek ripped itself out of your throat.
You fumbled for something from your bedside table to act as a weapon, and the most threatening object there was was your lamp. At least you could smash it against the intruder and bolt out of your apartment for help.
And as you tried to rip the lamp’s cord out of the socket, its light turned on—revealing the stranger to be…Santa?
“(Y/N), is it?” the male chuckled, rubbing his nape.
“Who are you?!” you screamed, pointing the lamp at him. “Get out of my house, please!”
“Just relax, man. I’m Santa, here to grant you your Christmas wish!”
“Look, I’m just a broke college student! I-I don’t have anything with me. Just leave and I won’t call the cops,” you tried to reason, already starting to break down into hiccups and tears
“Well, I'm sorry. It’s my policy to not leave a house unless I’ve successfully fulfilled one’s desires. So, I won’t be leaving anytime soon!”
“W-What…?” you were beyond dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the random lunatic standing in your room.
“This,” he pointed at the card from the convenience store. “Here, your wish says…to lose your virginity,” the male cladded in his Santa suit bemusedly read aloud.
“No…! I wrote that as a joke!”
“Well, I don’t take Christmas wishes as a joke,” he lifted an eyebrow, resting his hands on his hips.
“Just cut it out, Santa isn’t real,” you retorted, tightening your grip on the handle of the lamp.
“But I am real,” his voice suddenly became closer, and more lucid, his frame had disappeared from your sight—as if he was suddenly gone and had dissipated into space. Whipping your head behind, you found him just there and a scream cracked out of your lungs as you tumbled out of your bed.
“H-How…Wha—“
“I can teleport, y’know?” he smiled, reaching out a hand to pull you up from the floor. “And I can make anything out of thin air,” his other hand rose to have a random Dior bag in his grasp as you stared, shocked and finding it hard to register the scene in front of you.
“So, you’re really…Santa Claus?”
“Yes, and my real name’s Gojo Satoru—at your service,” he slurred, and you found his voice smooth like freshly woven silk. You were silent and still, eyes widening at the white-haired male in front of you. “Speaking of your Christmas wish…”
Your face burst into florid red as you awkwardly laughed, “Could you please just forget about that?”
“Now, if you’ve read carefully; no changing or refusing of wishes once you’ve written ‘em down,” he pointed at the small text at the bottom of the card, “You must’ve missed it just now.”
Thinking over the situation, something in you cracked as you realised—you were going to lose your virginity to Santa Claus. Your eyelids twitched as you nervously chuckled. This gotta be a heck of a joke. 
“Hey, don’t underestimate me!” Gojo had caught your expression, and as if he was reading your thoughts, his eyebrows knitted into a frown.
“T-Then what are we supposed to do now?” you asked, switching your gaze away and feeling hot embarrassment tickling your skin.
“No need to worry,” Gojo gave a reassuring smirk, “just trust me.”
Alright, trust.
You felt the bed shift with his weight, and he was hovering over you—face mere inches away. His eyes seemed to sparkle like those of a diamond; blue stars orbiting in his orbs, and you note the plump shape of his lips, so visually kissable.
For the second time, as if he had caught your thoughts, he let his lips mould into yours. He felt soft and plump like peach, and he smelled like a merge of snow and warmth.
Your lips danced in the dark, and your body leaned forward towards him as he fell back, something about the kiss was unbreakable. It felt so soft, it felt so good.
You let his hands wander around your curves from underneath your pyjamas, meet the shape of your hips and dips of your waist, then the roundness of your breasts. You let him study your body with the cold tips of his fingers and slip your clothes off when he wanted to.
A soft moan slipped out of your tongue when the cold December air hit your nipples, and Gojo took no time to let his tongue play with your buds. His hands continued to roam around your body, pressing a finger against the wet spot through your pants.
“You fine with this?” he pointed at the way his fingers slid over your clothed core. You wordlessly nodded, drifting your sight away before you felt yourself benignly pushed onto your back, your pants slowly slipping off of your legs along with your panties.
You were bare, in front of a man you’ve met tonight. But at the same time, you felt oddly safe with him. This was only a wish come true and nothing more, you affirmed.
His long fingers began to reach deep inside, and your nerves tingled at where they caressed your walls. His pace switched after a few pumps and his fingers were dextrously pistoning in and out of your cunt. You could hear your erotic slick coating his digits as it follows his rhythm, and your cheeks burn hot in shyness.
His face lowered to your pussy, and his tongue began playing with your clit. A sharp mewl escaped from your lips as his cheeks hallowed from sucking on your nub and his fingers paced up over the gummy spot deep inside.
Pleasure began amassing in your nerves and you could feel yourself brimming over the edge of lucidity. Gojo didn’t stop and instead, fastened his digits in and out of you, the sound of sex was loud through your state of delirium and he was coaxing all the pleasure there was in you.
Then, you spilled. Your thighs tightened around his head, fingers gripping onto his white locks as you’re sent to a world of blank bliss. Gojo peeks up at you as you pause with your lips parted, edges of eyebrows sewn to the stars, and half a wail stayed choked in your throat.
“You alright?” he chuckled, raising his upper body to your blushed face. You didn't say a word and drove your tongue into his mouth, arms locking him closer to you. The shared heat between your two bodies warmed the air around you, and you thought maybe that’s what it feels like to have a lover.
“Yeah,” you breathed, still ever so shy yet for once, a daring timbre crawled through your tone. “I think I’m ready…”
“If princess wants it,” his lips crack into a smile against yours, pants pulled down and hand pumping his length, fat tip lined against your entrance. Peeking down, regret almost settled into your being when you saw his size. Would it fit?
Then, he saw you and reassured you that he would go slow. No need to worry and to trust. So, you did. Bashfully spreading your thighs open for him.
Your muscles squeezed when he first entered, and he let out a long groan with a pause to his hips. It took a few seconds until he began to move, this time with a thumb rolling your clit to loosen your grip. Every inch of his cock stretched into your cunt made you go almost insane—the pain that first came was soon replaced with a delicate buzz of pleasure.
His hips were slow to thrust at first, gentle and soft until your walls had adjusted to his girth. Your little moans began to fill the chilly air when he slowly started to quicken up, and the bed began to squeak along with his rhythm.
“You look so pretty, y’know?” like silk, slinking through the hot air and into your ears. Every time his curved tip kisses your G-spot, you feel blank—blank of pleasure and stimulation. He could see it in your face, always able to read your features so well.
“Mmhp—” you let out a moan when he pulled your hips closer to him, fucking deep into your squelching cunt. Your back arched from the way his cock rubbed against your walls, hands over your mouth to muffle your whines.
“I wanna hear your pretty moans, (Y/N),” Gojo teased, softly leading your hands into his before fucking himself harder, deeper inside of you.
“Nngh! Feels s-so good—haa!” your hips began to move with his, legs hugging him closer to you and the world seemed to be on vertigo. Pleasure pervaded through every single cell in your body and your blood was pumping loud in your ears. “Please, I wanna cum!”
“Whatever princess says,” you could hear the smirk in his quivering tone, and with a few deep thrusts, the coil inside of your womb snapped—and your essence wet his thighs; your shaky moans high-pitched and sharp. “Yeah, pretty girl. Just like that.”
Static shot through your nerves, and your clit throbs against the hot air. Gojo let a thumb circle your nub, rubbing it through your climax as your nails sink into the skin of his arm. You could feel the warm mix of cum slipping out of your lips, running down your skin and into the bedsheet.
Once again, you felt the bed shift, and the warmth that held you lifted away. Through your hazy sight, you saw his figure rising, “Merry Christmas, pretty.”
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britneyshakespeare · 2 years
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drawing just eats up my fucking time man
#eats up my time and my charcoal pencils#i don't even like charcoal pencils. i love charcoal i'm meh on graphite. charcoal pencils... in some ways they're the worst of both worlds#tales from diana#i spent five fucking hours doing my drawing homework and it came out w Several Fucking Foundational Flaws#at least in composition for what the assignment was supposed to be#and i was so unsatisfied w it bc in the end the figure i ended up doing was so small#bc i was focusing on adding a lot of detail to the room i was sitting in#and im soooo fucking anal-retentive about drawing rooms. long story short i should've just. zoomed in like 3.5x and not#done all that much. i nearly burnt myself out before i even started drawing ME (THE POINT OF THE ASSIGNMENT)#(IT'S A FIGURE DRAWING CLASS NOT A LINEAR PERSPECTIVE CLASS)#the figure i drew is kinda cute actually but so squished it doesn't look... much like me at all#maybe it's also my hair being tied back but the facial features are so small they dont look like anyone in particular#and as small as they are they don't really resemble me much either#so i was so unhappy w it that i drew a very VERY zoomed in one that was just. well mainly my face.#it was on a smaller piece of paper#(normally we do them on 18'' x 24'')#i drew the ceiling and walls in the background but it's like. very much not the focus.#there's a bit of shoulder and arm too but my hair is covering up a lot bc i let it down#it's not very much fitting the assignment either but i thought it made up for the whole... lack of PERSON that i didnt have in my first one#and counting the breaks i had to take to let my brain melt that all took like... six and a half hours#but i couldn't NOT do all of that. i just. ugh. i wish drawing were fucking easy for me it absolutely is not.#there are so many things i should do instead of what i naturally think to do. and im also very slow and detail-oriented#detail-oriented but my details don't even turn out really good.#what i draw in two hours other people could draw in less than half that time#what i draw in six hours other people could draw in two#and that doesn't make me want to give it up. i'm glad i work hard. i think it's worth it for the joy i get out of learning it.#but damn. i'm just a slow-fuckin-poke.
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rosyblooom · 2 months
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losing ur interest | op81 smau
PAIRING: oscar piastri x fem best friend!reader WARNING(S): kinda angsty SUMMARY: oscar spent the better half of his teens and early twenties pining after his best friend, y/n, with no luck. however, by the time y/n finally sees him in a romantic light, his love is long gone.
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Instagram
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 91,740 others
yourusername did i jump in the water fully clothed for my bestie only to get one nice shot?? yes yes i did that and u would do it too for a free dinner! 😌
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username she was an employee! and she was gonna get employee of the month period y/n !!!
yourusername yessir🫡 username 🤣🤣
username so... where is this picture you speak of🧍‍♀️
oscarpiastri 40 cad of food for 1 pic...😐
yourusername not my fault u're so unphotogenic x username oscar bby the public would like to see it pls 🤲🧎‍♀️
username prettyyyy
landonorris the camera guy always gets the short end of the stick smh guess who paid for my food🤨
yourusername uhm... so anyway the weather was soo nice😋 landonorris woow
oscarpiastri posted to his story!
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[ caption: This picture alone is NOT worth a fully paid meal! 2/10 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, yourfriend, landonorris and 265,880 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri Two best friends in a room, they might...
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username KISS OMG THEY MIGHT FUCKING KISS YESS PLS😭
oscarpiastri 👀👀👀 yourusername ahahahahahaha😂 username ouch...my heart hurts for osc🥹💔 username alright y/n it ain't that funny😐
username AHHJKSH they're so cute omfg
username slowly realising best friends to lovers ain't ever gonna happen with these two😩
landonorris finally give photo credits???🤨
username oop yourusername never 😙❤️
username the way y/n didn't even like the post omg crying and fucking throwing up
username 😭😭 username sigh... nobody talk to me rn 😞
f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 11,840 others
f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N, Oscar Piastri's long-time childhood best friend, was spotted entering the paddock today! Despite being a fan favourite, she hasn't attended many races and tends to keep to herself.
Nevertheless, fans are thrilled to see Y/N supporting Piastri at this year's Australian Grand Prix!
Best of luck to all drivers today!
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username y/n on insta: 🤪😆🗣️ y/n at a gp: 🤐😊🙈
username LMAOO ...why is this me tho🥲 username she's so real for that lololol username ntm on my girl now, she's just shy🤣🫶
username it's so clear oscar's in love with her omg
username she's not tho☹️
username imagine if oscar wins today👀👀
username she looks so prettyyyyy <3
username ew she's just there for the money and fame🤢
username "long-term childhood best friend" what's not clicking??? yall just be saying anything smh
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: alright boys, time to get on ur zoom 🏎️ ]
[ tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris ]
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oscarpiastri posted to his story!
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[ caption 1: When your best friend buys you pizza to make you feel better after a crash 😊 ] [ caption 2: Nevermind she dropped it 🤦‍♂️ Actually feeling worse now! ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
A few months later...
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: the best type of mattress 😌 ]
[ tagged: oscarpiastri ]
ynfanpage
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liked by username, username, yourusername and 3,892 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
ynfanpage guys have you noticed how giddy and touchy y/n's become around oscar ever since his crash at the aus gp??? these are some pics she's posted since then👀👀👀
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username OMG YES IVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT
username what do you wanna bet she realised she was in love with osc that day??🥺
username IMAGINE. that would actually make so much sense!!! best friend to lovers at last omfg 😍🫶 username my nonna always said "sometimes u have to almost lose someone to realise how much they really mean to u"🥹
username Y/N IS IN THE FUCKING LIKES WTF‼️
username probably by accident🥲 username BUT WHAT IF IT'S NOT AN ACCIDENT??? maybe we'll get a hard launch soon omgg
username they're sooo dating lol
oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer, logansargeant and 201,888 others
tagged: yourusername, lilyzneimer + more
oscarpiastri Made some new friends at the beach today :)
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username the vibes in these are immaculate🤩
yourusername same time, same place? :)❤️
landonorris where was my invite???
oscarpiastri Non-existent 😊 username lmaoo why are they like this🤣🤣
username is that y/n and osc in the third pic??🧐
username idk but lmk when u figure it out babes
lilyzneimer super fun! nice meeting you guys 💛
oscarpiastri You too 😆
username idk oscar responding to everybody but y/n's comment rubs me the wrong way...🤨
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lilyzneimer posted to her story!
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[ caption: 🍝💛💛 ]
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe, riabish and 82,045 others
yourusername beach x (ty lovely waiter for taking my pic for me)
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lilymhe prettiest! 💕
yourusername youuu <33
username where's oscarrrr
username she's so fake😒 how is she super shy at the gp and then so outgoing here smh??
username lmao maybe bc this is her own insta?? like duh she feels comfortable on her own page wtf
landonorris alone?🤨 where's your shadow
yourusername u're so...😭 username LMAOO referring to oscar as her shadow is crazy??💀💀 username i'm cryin🤣🤣
oscarpiastri posted to his story!
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[ caption: 😊❤️ ]
[ tagged: lilyzneimer ]
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Twitter
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: girls night in? yes, yes pls :) ]
[ tagged: yourfriend + more ]
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0:02 ㅇ──────────── 3:17
no part 2!
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mybiasisexo · 2 years
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no cause now I’m dreaming of this man!!!!
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rainbow-nerdss · 3 days
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AITA for accidentally traumatising a 13 year old kid by pretending to be his dead mom?
So basically a couple of weeks back i (33F) was at work and I noticed this guy (30sM) staring at me. Now, this isn’t totally unheard of, I'm kind of used to it because I've done some acting in the past and sometimes people sort of stare while they try to figure out where they know me from. Usually I ignore it, but this guy was like crazy hot so I figured, fuck it, I’ll go talk to him, maybe make a sale out of it. We sort of talked a bit while I served him, and found out he’s a single dad. He had sort of sad vibes and I was kind of into it so when he asked me out I said sure, why not and we agreed to go for dinner.
So everything was going well for a while, we went on a few dates but mostly we facetimed bc he works 24 hour long shifts and scheduling dates around that and a kid is tough, which i totally understood and I was happy to be patient with him.  I should also say we still haven’t kissed at this point, even when he took me out on a boat on a lake, which was probably in my top 5 dates of all time? Anyway, I got the vibe he was holding back a bit but I figured I could wait bc he seemed like he was working through some stuff and dating in LA is fucking hard. 
What happened next was where the real shit started to hit the fan, though.
Basically, I decided to bring him some brownies at work, but I mistimed it and he’d already gone home so I gave them to his coworker who looked at me like I was a ghost or something. I should have recognised something was off then but I brush it off and the next day I get a call from the guy, and he asks me to come over to his place which hasn’t happened before. I figure this is a good sign, that maybe he’s ready to start moving things forward, but when I get to the house, there’s all these pictures on the coffee table and they all look EXACTLY like me. My first thought was: holy shit, this guy’s a stalker. Great. Then I looked closer, though, and the pictures weren’t even of me. Turns out, I look exactly like this guy’s dead wife???
Anyway, that was wild and obviously I left after hearing him out a little bc I just needed to wrap my head around it.
Now this next bit might be where i’m the AH, bc i haven’t had a chance to do any acting in a while and I genuinely felt bad for the guy, he just wanted a chance at closure with his wife and I couldn’t really fault him for that. 
So long story short, I cut my bangs (they looked cute in the pictures of his wife so I figured they’d work on me) and I went to his house in character as his wife and encouraged him to say what he needed to say to her. Things got pretty heated and he shared some really intimate thoughts and feelings so I was getting into it, you know? We embraced and I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I thought it really helped him until the door opened and in walks his kid with a woman who is apparently his girlfriend? So i guess the single part of “single dad” wasn’t totally accurate either.
Also, the kid called me mom, which kind of broke my heart, and I feel like maybe I might have fucked up somewhere here.
So reddit, I have to ask AITA for pretending to be a dead woman and accidentally being the other woman while simultaneously traumatising a thirteen year old kid?
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scaredbisexual · 12 days
Note
Hi lovely! As a fellow bisexual id love to see something about reader maybe coming out as bi to Joost or maybe reader runs into her ex gf while with him? Or something totally else! Only if you’re comfortable ofc 🩷🫶🏻
I never claimed to be sane, so here is another request today! This one admittedly took a little longer, I got sucked into the story lol
LOVE ME SOME BISEXUAL Y/N! Hell yeah!
Enjoy!
Cool | Joost Klein x fem!reader
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Summary: It was hot, and it was glorious, just the two of them in a country of which language they didn’t speak, people they didn’t know and fucks they didn’t give. 
And in this suburban, secluded town they have specifically chosen to not run into any people they may know, or ones who may know him, they ran into her. 
Word count: 1997 (the clownery)
WARNINGS: swearing (it's a given with me, I'm Polish), degrading and not in a fun way, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of sexuality <- YELL AT ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING, thx <3
Author's note: it is very strictly a female reader in here, again, sorry to disappoint folks. But I have one request for a bromance turned romance in my inbox so stay tuned!
Not proof-read, sorry
‘Oh my God, Y/N? Long time no see!’ a high voice shrieked in the distance. The girl in question startled, looking around to find whoever was calling her name. 
Her and her boyfriend, Joost, were currently on vacation. The Italian breeze was lightly blowing, more often than not tangling her hair and making her huff. The boy next to her always giggled, took the strands out of her mouth and kissed her nose, finding the whole shebang to be insanely cute and ridiculous. 
‘Serves you right for having such long hair’ he would chuckle, elbowing her jokingly in the side. And she would pout and punch his bicep, sticking her tongue out at him. 
‘Har har, fuck you’ she muttered once, making him laugh in a loud, raspy belly laugh. 
And it was amazing, the vacation of their dreams to be frank. They took a week off, packed their suitcase (yes, singular, luggage fares are simply too high to bother) and embarked on a journey to some small, suburban town in the south of Italy. He wore linen shirts and his wife-beaters, she wore floral dresses and thin shorts, both of their bodies glistening with sweat. It was hot, and it was glorious, just the two of them in a country of which language they didn’t speak, people they didn’t know and fucks they didn’t give. 
And in this suburban, secluded town they have specifically chosen to not run into any people they may know, or ones who may know him, they ran into her. 
Y/N recognized her in a second, the pixie cut, the floral shirt, the bisexual disaster of a girl with a big smile plastered on her face. And she looked good, damn her. A thin sheen of sweat making her face glow, and not look like a sweaty monster, her legs looked long and slender in her cutoff denim shorts and her arms were littered with tattoos, even more so than when they were together.
Mhm, yup, that’s the kicker. Here Y/N was, on a wonderful vacation with her hotter-than-hell (famous!) boyfriend and who did she meet? Her ex-girlfriend. Yummy.
Joost cocked his brow and squeezed Y/N’s hand, silently asking if she’s okay. 
‘Oh, Vee, hi!’ Y/N replied to the girl, ignoring her boyfriend’s question. Of course she wasn’t fine, the nerve of him. She took a deep breath and tugged Joost along to the other one, meeting her halfway.
‘Oh my god, it’s been too long! You look… nice!’ the other woman exclaimed, eyeing Y/N from head to toe. A crimson blush was biting Y/N’s cheeks, making her roll her eyes.
‘Yeah, sure, same to you’ she replied. ‘Oh, um, Joost, this is Vee. Vee, meet Joost, my boyfriend’ she introduced the two, waving her hand between them. 
‘Hi’ the boy murmured, not entirely rudely, but off-kilter. She chanced a look at him and saw him scanning the other girl from over the rim of his sunglasses. 
See, Joost didn’t like Vee. She seemed fake from the very first sentence she uttered to the both of them, her smile never quite reaching her eyes and said eyes sharp and calculating, rather than warm like her voice would suggest. And he saw how his girl’s shoulders slumped, how her mouth was just slightly downturned, how she didn’t answer his question before. 
So he stood a little taller with his back straight and chest puffed, not so much that it would look silly, but just slightly.
Meanwhile in Y/N’s head there was nothing but the, seemingly looped, word “shit”. And for a good reason, because Vee was trouble and Joost was sunshine and she hated those two worlds colliding. 
‘Oh, a boyfriend, huh? That’s sweet, Y/N, you finally stopped fooling yourself?’ she asked, feigned kindness lacing her voice. She giggled and shot her a wink, turning to the boy next. ‘Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar’ she inquired; her eyes squeezed as if she was looking at sun itself.
And in Y/N’s eyes she might as well have because the boy meant so much too him, and he picked up on her nervousness the second Vee appeared. And her heart was beating to the beat of techno music, pumping so much blood through her veins she felt lightheaded. 
But Joost, sweet, kind, lovely Joost, just shot Vee a long look took a step to be in front of Y/N. Nothing too big, not like the teen dramas on Netflix or a dick measuring context, no. Just playing it off as casual while they both knew he was trying to make her feel safer. Bless his soul, he had no idea who Vee was, didn’t even suspect that it could have been Y/N’s ex-girlfriend. How could he, anyway, when she has never made it known to him that she was bisexual. 
And it wasn’t for the lack of trying, she wanted him to know who she was. Ha, she yearned for his acceptance and to be able to share this part of herself with him, but she couldn’t. No, not really.
‘I don’t think we’ve met’ Joost answered nonchalantly. And his voice seemed to do something to Vee, you could almost see the information clicking in place as she raised her brows in disbelief and let out a low chuckle.
‘Shit, you’re the guy from Eurovision, aren’t you? The “Friesenjung” one?’ she exclaimed, smiling broadly at him. ‘Oh I love your music, man! I had no idea you were dating little Y/N over here, she never mentioned it!’ she exclaimed gleefully. And that dig didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, she knew what she wanted to imply, but she couldn’t find the words to disagree, to say that they haven’t talked in years, how could she have mentioned it?!
‘You must not be really good friends, then’ he shrugged, putting his arms over Y/N’s trembling arms and soothing her with his presence. He started to rub his thumb up and down her arm, almost as if saying “I’m here, you’re fine”. And it helped, it really did. 
‘Oh we were very good friends until little miss “my-new-boyfriend-is-famous” didn’t dump me for, seemingly, fame’ Vee rolled her eyes, winking at Joost. ‘She’s like that, you get it, a little sleazy and conniving.’
‘I think that’s enough’ the man interrupted, his face stern and lips pulled into two thin lines. ‘Go and spew your venom somewhere else, we’re not interested.’ 
And so he turned on his heel, dragging Y/N’s dumbfounded body with him, not even looking back at the girl. They took a turn, then another and only after a few minutes of walking in silence did Joost loosen his hold on her shoulders, steering the girl towards a bench. 
It felt as if she was sitting next to the loudspeaker for a little too long, the ringing in her ears persistent, her mouth dry and hands shaking where he held them in his lap. Neither of them said a word, both just leaning against each other and people-watching.
They often did that when one of them was overwhelmed. Back home they could just climb the roof of their house and sit there, hidden behind trees that grew closely together, but not too closely so that they could still look at people walking around. They would play a game where they would guess what someone is thinking about, laughing if it sounded a little too close to this one dialogue from “Twilight” and holding hands. Sometimes they didn’t speak, just existed together in silence disrupted only by honking cars or laughing children.
And here in Italy they didn’t have their own place, but the bench would do. It was a little further away from the trail, between two bushes and under a lovely tree with colorful flowers. So they sat there, their hands clasped together, her forehead resting on his shoulder. And he would sometimes hum a tune, and she would pick it up and so the minutes passed.
Sometime later she stirred, almost like waking up from a bad dream. She opened her eyes and raised her head slowly, her eyes glistening and cheeks red.
‘So, um, that was Vee’ she muttered, laughing hoarsely and looking out into the horizon.
‘Delightful persona’ he answered, squeezing her hand again. Their palms were sweaty but it was okay, he would always hold her hand when she needed it.
‘Tell me about it’ Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. ‘It’s my ex-girlfriend’ she whispered, looking into the opposite direction, too scared of what might happen next.
And Joost just stared at her, his face blank and a million thoughts racing through his head. Okay, it made sense, there was some weird tension between the two women, but he wouldn’t have guessed that they used to be a thing. Hell, Y/N never mentioned to him that she was bisexual, he didn’t really expect it.
‘Oh?’ he hummed, tugging her a little closer. He could feel the tension seeping from her, clogging her pores and presumably giving her a headache. ‘Hey pretty girl, look at me’ he whispered again, reaching out to grab her chin and make her look at him. Her eyes were squeezed shut but she went with the movement. ‘Y/N, honey, breathe please’ he reminded her and she took a big gulp of fresh air.
‘Sorry’ she muttered. She didn’t know if she was more sorry for the situation or for hiding such significant part of herself from him. ‘It’s, uh, complicated’
‘I gathered that, yeah’ he said, leaning down to kiss her knuckles. She sighed deeply and opened her eyes. There he was, smiling down at her, his sunglasses raised to sit on the top of his head, leaving behind red marks on his nose. He was smiling softly at her, his eyes earnest. ‘You don’t have to say anything that you don’t want to say just because that happened. We can go grab some food and pig out on it in bed. Or I can buy you one of those overpriced coffees with enough sugar in it to kill a horse?’ he offered, making her chuckle wetly. 
And God, how was he so perfect? So loving and understanding, no raised voices, no judgement in his voice. She heaved out a long breath and turned to him.
‘I’m bisexual, Joost’ she admitted. She looked like a spooked animal, her eyes scanning his face, legs ready to run if things turned ugly.
‘Cool’ he answered, smiling down at her. ‘Thank you for telling me’ he added after a heartbeat and kissed her sweaty forehead. Y/N raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief.
‘You’re welcome?’ her voice was high, a nervous giggle making its way out of her mouth. ‘That’s it? You don’t think I’m, what, faking it?’
‘Why the hell would I think that?’ he asked, amusement in his voice. 
‘That’s what Vee thought’ she shrugged, looking away yet again. And that just simply wouldn’t do, so he once again reached out for her, but this time put his hand on her cheek and slowly turned her back to him.
‘Well, as we have established, Vee is an idiot’.
And then he kissed her sweetly, pecking her lips and pulling her to his chest. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes with a fruity undertone of a slushie he has spilled on himself earlier that day.
Y/N chuckled and shook her head, her worries melting away with just one kiss. She felt so foolish, of course Joost wouldn’t agree with Vee.
He was her sunshine, he shone just for her and that was final, bisexual or not. So they stood up, fingers laced and cheeks wet, not only from the heat this time, heading towards some restaurant he quickly found on Google. 
A few hours later they laid in bed, legs intertwined, chests pressed closely together with her head in the crook of his neck when he whispered:
‘We can talk about boobs now’.
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postersofleon · 10 days
Text
Virgin Who Can't Drive
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Leon is trying to teach you how to drive so you'll visit him in Raccoon City.
content: fluff and smut
- request
notes: afab fem!reader; fluffy couple who love each other; talking about porn; praise kink coming from both leon and reader; it's a short long. I wanted to write a fluffy sex scene because re2 leon is so lovely. um, i don't like the ending. y'know, it's like written perfectly in your mind and the next day it's just an ass writing of it. both reader and leon are virgins. it took forever because i hate myself so here you go
part two (here)
taglist: @argreion
Leon smiled brightly at you as he saw your cheeks puff up. "C'mon, reverse isn't that bad." He hoped his words be enough to make you feel better, but you looked so frustrated. "I, I panic controlling this machine." Once he heard those words come from your mouth, he sighed softly.
A typical nice day with his girlfriend who hated the idea of driving. "Once these cities are walkable, I'm going to finally hate less my life." You reverse the car gently, you focused on the car and on Leon. Leon nodded his head slowly, "Yeah, good, good..." Your cheeks began to burn a bit from his words.
"Sweetie, focus." Leon said kindly.
You wanted to desperately mock him, judge him for his cute words, but what else can you do this exact second.
"Okay." You said almost immediately. You kept your hands on the wheel as you slowly turned the wheel. Once you completely turned the car, you turned to see Leon with a happy smile, "Yeah, see, I told you you can do it." Leon kissed your cheek, and it was so easy to know that he did this to praise your little heart.
"Ready to drive?" Leon asked.
You nodded your head weakly as you began to drive. Your foot on the gas and the other foot just stayed floating above the brake. You weren't a complete idiot at the idea of driving, you knew how to make turns and stuff, but the fear of the other drivers made your stomach turn. If you weren't a reckless driver, another idiot will and, fuck. You glanced at Leon, "Leon, can we just skip the driving and," You leaned a bit close to the wheel, "I hate driving."
You were twenty years old practicing how to drive with your boyfriend. No matter how positive you tried to see the story, you felt like a loser.
Leon placed the car in park, "Honey," He gently cupped your face, "Take a deep breath in." He whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath in. His fingers gently squeezed your cheeks to help your nerves that kept spiking up. He leaned gently and kissed your lips, "I'm here to help." Leon muttered softly. Your teeth chewed on your lower lip, "Okay."
You drove around the streets; it wasn't hard because Leon made sure to keep another extra eye as they went around. "I can't park, Lee." You mumbled softly. Leon rubbed your thigh gently, "Yes, you can, baby." He kept his hand on your thigh as you twirled the wheel into position. "That's it... good." He nodded his head slowly. You blushed at every single word he said, your cheeks burned up.
"Be careful with the other car. Nice and easy." He nodded his head slowly until you finished. You parked the car and looked at Leon, "I hate driving." You mumbled softly. Leon caressed your cheeks, "I know, but when I go to Raccoon City, I need my princess to learn how to drive so she can visit me." You looked away; it felt so unfair that Leon accepted a job so far away. Leon. You looked at the wheel of the car, "So, how many days are you betting on me to get better?"
"A couple of weeks." He promised.
And Leon was leaving in a couple of months. You needed to get rid of your stupid fear.
-
Leon was finishing his small studies of law he took in community college. It wasn't required, and probably it was wasting time and money, but he didn't mind waiting around the campus for you. Leon hated to think about leaving you alone. He wanted to take you to Raccoon City, but you needed to finish your classes. Leon didn't want you to stop everything you are doing for him. However, he feels anxious of leaving you without actually losing his virginity with you.
Both virgins who were too scared to look at real life penis or a vagina.
He had seen those trashy porn movies in his home trying to prepare, but he knew things about you. He knew you wouldn't be super sexual and he was aware that maybe his boner won't appear like he planned.
Planning sex was hard work. Especially when everyone apparently lost it in high school. It was his fault for wanting to watch Plup Fiction and Casablanca with you. He was horny, but never enough to force you to do something he knew you would be uncomfortable with.
The closest thing Leon has done was sit between your thighs as he played video games on his Sega. Your legs on his shoulders, his hands every once in a while rubbing your legs. Okay, maybe he was a moron for not having sex yet. He saw you leave your class and he stood up straight. "Honey, I was planning we can watch The Wedding Singer." He stammered out like a wheezing toy. Your eyes narrowed, "Didn't we see that already?"
"Yes," He agreed, "But, who said we can't enjoy it again."
You exhale through your mouth, "Mm, okay, I guess." Your fingers scratched your cheek, "So, The Wedding Singer and we are done for the day?"
Leon laughed softly, "Not really." He knew his face looked dumb, "I was thinking that maybe we should buy condoms."
"No fucking way." You gasped softly. Leon nodded his head excitedly, "Yup, I, I want to do it with you unt-until I go to leave. I don't want an awkward sex moment with you and fail at it." He laughed softly to himself before looking back at you. "I don't want that to be last memory of me."
You looked away from Leon and let out a laugh, "So," You held gently his arm, "I'll rewatch and see The Wedding Singer and remember that's when we had sex." Leon nodded his head, "Yeah, it'll be fun, I guess."
-
You couldn't watch the movie properly now. You kept looking at Leon as Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore fell in love. You felt yourself smile with the thought of a romantic moment with Leon. You have known for so long. You knew all his little quirks and... You are learning how to drive thanks to him. You gently pushed his hair back, you saw his moles scattered around his neck and your heart clenched.
Lee. Leon. Your love.
Leon turned to see you.
Your eyes looked down at his lips, "I love you." You whispered softly. Leon smiled weakly, "I love you more."
When the movie ended, he held your hand tightly and pulled you so close that your hips crashed with his. "So, what's the first step of sex?" You teased Leon. You had your ideas of just grinding on him until he popped a boner, but it was just your needy self. You didn't mind how long it lasted to love Leon until he was hard.
Leon laughed softly, he didn't have an exact answer, but he got into his knees and pulled out a dozen roses. You wanted to pretend you weren't digging his romantic gesture. "Lee, stop it." You groaned weakly. "Nope," He has the cutest awkward smile in the world, "I have to express my love over and over."
You accepted the flowers in a shy manner. "I hate you." You mumbled softly.
Leon and you went to car and he drove you back to your rent home you shared with roommates. "A-are we really doing this?" You asked Leon weakly. Leon nodded his head, "I brought my cassettes for the occasion." You were scared for Leon's type of music for the moment. "What's in the cassette?" You grabbed a vase to put the flowers in.
"Honestly," He clenched the cassette, "A bit of everything I thought would be romantic." Meaning, you knew Lovesong by the Cure will be there. You held Leon's hand and led him to your room, Leon felt nervous already and it pained him.
You sat on the corner of the bed. Leon nodded his head, he needed to assure himself as he prepared the cassette. Leon turned to you and smiled, "Forgive me if I fail to satisfy you." He muttered softly. He got into his knees and placed himself the only place he knew where to start. You didn't know what to do and neither did Leon. He rubbed your thigh and his hands landed on your hip.
The music of the cassette began and it was a Queen song. A small piano began and you recognized it without an issue. Leon blushed at his song choices, "I, I know I'm not good with songs." His hand grabbed your hip tightly, "A song named Jealousy shouldn't be a tape where I want to love you, but I... I can't imagine a life without you."
Your eyes looked up at the tape player and back at Leon. "Lee, I don't know how to... start." You mumbled shyly. Leon nodded his head and stood up, "I don't either," He smiled, "They don't teach this in pornos." He leaned close to you, his legs slowly tangling with yours. Neither of you were sexual aroused. But it was nice. Leon's hand caressed your face and his thumb rubbed your lip.
Your hands slowly grabbed his hip. Leon closed his eyes for a second, he leaned back and took off his white shirt off.
You knew he was in good shape. You always saw him train and see how scrawny his body was until now. He had barely formed abs and soft pecs. You usually saw this body when you two went to lake to enjoy the fresh water in a summer day. He was beautiful. More of his mole decorated his skin, he even had one so close by his nipple. His head tilted a little, his cheeks were pink, and they won't seem to fade away.
The music was completely in the background noise now. Leon closed his eyes for a second, "Okay, okay..."He swallowed weakly. Your hands stayed a while on his hip until they slowly slid down into your stomach. "Your turn." He whispered softly. His hands gently traced your stomach; his fingertips were barely even touched you skin and a small whimper escaped from his lips.
You tilted your head away. It was simple touches, yet those small butterflies formed around your stomach and between your thighs. The grip on Leon's hands tightened on your hip, and they slowly went up and up and gently pulled off your shirt. Leon smiled weakly at his new view. Your breasts looked so soft. He leaned close, his breath was against your neck, "I love you."
Your kisses met his neck and shoulders. "I love you too." You mumbled back. Leon smiled, "I like this." His hands rubbed your hips, skin on skin action wasn't as normal for you two. His hands slowly went up and took off your bra. His pecs and your breasts rubbed against each other, your nipples perked up. Leon's hand gently held your breast and placed his mouth on it. He sucked on your nipples, tugged them gently between his teeth.
The music completely disappeared now. A tiny moan escaped your lips when he pulled away from your breast and went to the other nipple.
Leon had always loved your tits. Seeing them covered with a shirt was enough for Leon, but now he was between your tits.
Leon felt how his limp dick was getting swollen up. Tighten around his jeans, aching around and becoming... it was hard to explain. This wasn't like masturbation. He had you. You felt how his bulge pressed against your covered pussy. Leon could already imagine how... fuck... your tight walls clenching around his poor aching cock. Leon's tongue traveled up until it met your neck, licking up all those details of your skin.
His own blue eyes met yours, his hand caressed your face again and pulled you close. "I, I love you." He couldn't help but repeatedly tell you those words. He meant it.
But with his dick tightening his jeans and him loving you. The next step came. You and Leon temporarily separated from each other remove your jeans. Leon was embarrassed of his tighty white underwear. He kicked them off your bed and he looked at your thighs slowly showing. Leon blushed again. You turned around and faced him. "Sorry if my vagina looks ugly." Your hands cupped your already covered pussy, but once you said those words Leon said, "I don't care." He just hoped you won't be scared of his worm.
Leon looked up at the ceiling, "So, I'll whip it out, okay?"
You nodded your head.
Leon swallowed nervously, his hands played with the elastic band and tugged them off. Your eyes couldn't stop looking at Leon's penis, "It's pretty." You whispered. His cock twitched at the compliment, "I trimmed it." Leon muttered softly. His hands played with the pubes he had, "I'm decent size." He was proud of five inches, but you didn't care of his size. You saw how his cock looked thick and heavy, and your eyes widen at how big his balls were.
"Holy shit." You mumbled softly. Your eyes saw his again, "I'm guessing that's you man spread so much."
Leon blushed again, his hand held his cock and you noticed the pre cum sticking around. You liked how Leon's cock looked. Most of the other dicks you have seen with Leon for future practice were kind of ugly looking. "It's okay?" Leon asked you.
You nodded your head.
Now it was your turn. You slowly took them off, Leon groaned weakly when he saw his girlfriend's pussy. His thigh clenched, "Baby..." You looked away for a second until you looked back at him. "Is it...pretty?" Leon nodded his head, but there was no thoughts in his mind. He was so curious of being of you now. Just the tip would be nice...
Learning was taking forever. But nobody mind it. You leaned back and Leon was rubbing his shaft between you pussy lips. His eyes fluttered a bit as how good this felt, your small moans made him want to fuck you so badly. His cock's tip caressed your cunt, his cock then just spilled his cum. It was spilling out and covering your pussy with his seed. He groaned weakly, "S-sorry..." He forced his half hard cock deep in you.
Losing your virginity was so... strange.
His cock made space for himself inside your pussy. You were gasping with every single push. He just kept pushing and pushing your walls open until he was fully in. His cock was still cumming, "Sorry for cumming." Leon muttered softly. He wanted to keep himself nice and hard for you. His hands grabbed your hips and kept himself close. Your wall kept clenching and drying up his cock.
He moaned softly. Leon's head tilted back as he released all his cum deep in you, "S-sorry-" He whispered softly. He looked back down, he smiled weakly at you.
Leon caressed your cheeks gently, rubbing the palm of his hand to your cheeks.
-
"Leon," You felt your heart beat so fast, the phone was pressed against your cheek, "Leon, you have been in Raccoon City for three days, and, fuck, baby, you haven't answered yet." You drove around the empty streets. Leon never just decides not to call you or ignore your calls. He isn't that type of guy. You threw your phone on the passenger's seat and kept both hands on the wheel.
But the world stopped when you mountains of military men and women boarding up the street. You stopped the car and placed it in parking. "Um, e-excuse me?" You cleared your throat, "W-What happened?" A man looked at you for a second, "You lived in Raccoon City?"
You shook your head, "No?"
Your mouth felt dried. "W-what happened?" The military man didn't answer you. "My boyfriend is a cop. He was..." Your voice stammered, "He was suppose to be here."
The military man sighed softly, "Sorry, ma'am, I can't say anything."
"His name is Leon Scott Kennedy," You said fast, "Is he okay?"
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