Look at how much being in love has changed him and softened him😭😭Revelry will always hold a special place in my heart but I can't deny how much I love this change🩷🩷
After an argument that should have never happened, Lee know is left regretful, not realizing he’d need a lot more than apologies to fix the pain
Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Car accident, memory loss, emotional distress, breakdown
The morning was slow, quiet, a gentle hum of normalcy before the storm. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the apartment you shared with Lee Know, casting soft golden hues over the wooden floors. You had woken up before him, padding into the kitchen with bare feet, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you prepared coffee. The soft bubbling of the pot filled the silence, and you allowed yourself a small smile.
Lee Know had been distant for weeks, his temper short, his patience nearly nonexistent. He came home late, barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was as if he was forcing himself to engage. You told yourself it was the stress of work, the exhaustion that came with constant rehearsals and performances. But deep down, a small voice whispered doubts—doubts that had been growing, festering beneath the surface like an untreated wound.
Still, you had hope. Maybe today would be better.
When Lee Know finally emerged from the bedroom, hair messy from sleep, he barely spared you a glance before reaching for his phone. His movements were robotic as he poured himself a cup of coffee, standing at the counter, scrolling.
“Good morning,” you greeted softly. He grunted in response.
You sighed but didn’t push. Instead, you leaned against the counter, watching him. “Are you working late today?”
“Probably,” he muttered.
“Want me to bring you dinner later?”
He finally looked up, and for a moment, there was something in his eyes—something weary. But it was gone just as quickly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I might not even have time to eat.”
The dismissiveness in his tone stung more than it should have. Lately, every attempt to reach him felt like knocking on a locked door.
You nodded, swallowing down the disappointment. “Okay.”
-
By the time the late afternoon rolled in, the sky had turned a sullen shade of gray, and rain drummed steadily against the apartment windows. The air inside felt thick, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension, mirroring the storm outside. The occasional roll of thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, warning growl that seemed to echo the unease between you and Lee Know.
You sat on the couch, absently watching the raindrops streak down the glass, your fingers tightening around the blanket draped over your lap. The warmth of the coffee in your hands did little to thaw the cold weight settling in your chest. Lee Know had been on edge all day, his responses clipped, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. You had tried to be understanding, reminding yourself that he was stressed, that this distance wasn’t intentional—but after weeks of this, of feeling like you were talking to a stranger, the patience you had been clinging to was wearing thin.
The steady patter of rain filled the silence as he moved around the apartment, gathering his things with rigid movements. The sound of his duffel bag being zipped up made your stomach twist. You knew he was leaving for practice, but it felt like he was walking away from something much bigger than just an evening out.
The tension was thick as you watched him from the kitchen, his movements mechanical as he tied his shoes by the door, getting ready to leave.
“Do you want breakfast?” you asked softly, hoping to break the silence.
“No,” he answered flatly, not even looking up.
Your grip on the coffee mug tightened. “You barely ate anything last night.”
Lee Know sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll eat later.”
The dismissal stung, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Are you mad at me?” Lee Know finally looked up from his phone, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “What?”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Barely talking to me. If I did something wrong, just tell me, Minho.”
His expression darkened, frustration flickering across his face like a gathering storm. His fingers clenched slightly, his shoulders stiff. “Not everything is about you, Y/N.”
Your stomach twisted. “I never said it was.”
“Then stop acting like I owe you an explanation for every little thing,” he snapped, his tone edged with impatience as he stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket.
Your breath hitched. “I just want to understand. I don’t get why you’re shutting me out—why you act like you don’t even want to be here anymore.”
A bitter scoff left his lips, his head shaking as he ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe because I don’t.”
The air was sucked from your lungs. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, the weight of his words crashing into you like an unforgiving wave. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt, your vision blurring as you searched his face for any sign of regret. But there was none. Only indifference.
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, barely able to force the words out.
His eyes were cold when they met yours. “I do.”
The finality in his voice was worse than if he had screamed it. Your throat closed, your entire body going rigid. Every single moment you had spent by his side, every night you had waited up for him, every sacrifice you had made—was all of it meaningless to him?
Something inside you splintered. The exhaustion, the loneliness, the feeling of constantly fighting for a place in his life—it all boiled over into something raw, something sharp.
“You’re such an asshole, Minho,” you said, voice trembling. “I have done nothing but try to love you, try to be there for you, and all you do is treat me like I’m some burden.”
His gaze flashed, something unreadable flickering in his expression before it hardened again. “Maybe you are.” The words struck like a knife, cutting so deep you felt it in your bones. The silence that followed was deafening.
Your hands clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your voice steady. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his voice void of warmth. “You’re always clinging. Always wanting more from me. Always needing reassurance. It’s exhausting, Y/N.”
Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Your chest ached, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a crushing force.
“I’m exhausting?” you repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “You know what’s exhausting, Minho? Loving someone who makes you feel like you’re never enough. Giving and giving until you have nothing left, only to be told that you were too much all along.”
His bitter laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “If you were enough, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
The final blow.
A strangled breath escaped your lips, your vision swimming with tears. The room felt too small, suffocating. You took a shaky step back, your heart pounding so violently it hurt.
You had loved him. Completely, recklessly. You had stayed when things got hard, had given him everything you had to give. But in the end, it still wasn’t enough for him.
And maybe it never would be.
Your hands trembled as you grabbed your coat from the hook by the door, your vision blurred by the tears you refused to shed in front of him. He stood there, unmoving, watching you with that same cold, detached expression.
“I hate you,” you choked out, your voice raw, stripped of all its strength. “I hate you so fucking much.”
And then you turned, storming out of the apartment, leaving behind the shattered remains of everything you had once believed in.
-
By the time you got behind the wheel, your entire body trembled with the force of your emotions. Your hands shook violently as they tightened around the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening from the pressure. The air in the car felt suffocating, thick with the remnants of your sobs, but no matter how much you tried to steady your breathing, it remained ragged—uneven, like the broken pieces of your heart.
You’re always clinging.
You’re exhausting.
Maybe you’re not enough.
His words echoed relentlessly in your head, searing through your chest like an open wound, each syllable sinking deeper, cutting sharper. No matter how many times you tried to shake them away, they lingered, poisoning your thoughts, feeding the storm inside you.
Rain pounded against the windshield in relentless sheets, distorting the glow of streetlights and headlights into a blurry, surreal mess. The rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers barely kept up, struggling to clear the cascading water from your line of sight. But you didn’t care. You barely registered anything beyond the suffocating weight in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, the erratic rise and fall of your breath.
You forced yourself to focus on the road ahead, but it was impossible to think straight when every nerve in your body was screaming, raw from the argument that had just unraveled the very fabric of your relationship.
Tears streaked down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting, mixing with the cold sweat that clung to your skin. A sob built in your throat, but you swallowed it back, your jaw clenching painfully. You had cried enough. You had begged enough. And for what? For him to tell you that you were a burden?
Your heart clenched painfully at the memory, at the way he had stood there, unmoved, unbothered, as if he hadn’t just shattered everything between you.
Your vision wavered. You tried to blink the tears away, but they only seemed to come faster, burning as they fell. Your chest felt tight, constricted, as though you were gasping for air that refused to come.
And then—
Blinding light.
A pair of headlights surged into view from the corner of your eye, piercing through the rain and darkness like an unforgiving force of fate.
Your breath caught in your throat.
A horn blared through the storm, long and sharp, the sound slicing through your muddled thoughts, forcing a split second of clarity.
Too close. Too fast.
Your hands yanked the wheel instinctively, but the tires skidded against the slick pavement, sending your car spinning out of control. The world tilted violently, your stomach lurching as your body was flung forward against the seatbelt. The sheer force knocked the air from your lungs, your head snapping sideways as the sound of screeching brakes, twisting metal, and shattering glass filled the air.
For a moment, everything felt suspended in time. A cruel, agonizing pause where pain had yet to register, where your mind barely had the chance to process what was happening.
Then—impact. A violent jolt. A deafening crash.
Your body slammed against the restraints, the seatbelt digging into your chest with bruising force. Your skull struck something hard—the window, the dashboard, you couldn’t tell. Stars exploded in your vision, blinding white-hot pain searing through your head as glass rained down like fractured ice.
A strangled gasp tore from your throat.
Pain. Sharp, unbearable, overwhelming.
Your fingers twitched, trying to reach for something—anything—to ground yourself, but the world was slipping through your grasp. The chaos of sound began to fade, muffled as though you were sinking underwater. The storm outside raged on, but it was distant now, a world away from where you were.
Your eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Your limbs refused to move, weighed down by something you couldn’t fight against.
Cold crept in, numbing, swallowing everything.
And then—
Nothing.
-
The vibration of his phone against the wooden table barely registered in Lee Know’s mind. He had been staring at the screen for the past few hours, waiting for a message—any message—from you. But there was nothing.
Not a single call. Not a single text.
Just silence.
His jaw clenched as he threw his phone onto the couch beside him, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. You were being dramatic. That’s what he told himself, over and over again. You were punishing him by ignoring him, waiting for him to be the one to reach out first.
But even as he tried to convince himself, a nagging unease settled deep in his gut.
Two days.
It had been two days since you walked out of the apartment. Two days since he had let his anger get the best of him, let cruel words spill from his lips—words he never should have said.
He had expected you to call. To yell at him, to cry, to make him feel guilty the way you always did when you fought. But you hadn’t.
And the longer the silence stretched, the more restless he became.
His pride kept him from dialing your number, but it didn’t stop his mind from racing with possibilities. Were you staying at a friend’s place? Had you gone back to your family’s house? Had you—
His phone buzzed against the couch.
Lee Know exhaled sharply, snatching it up without thinking. His chest tightened as he saw the caller ID. Chan.
Not you.
Disappointment flickered in his chest, but he pressed the answer button anyway. “What?” he muttered, his voice rougher than intended.
There was silence on the other end. Too long, too heavy. A bad feeling settled deep in his bones.
Then, Chan’s voice came through the line, quiet and grim.
“She got into an accident.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. They hung in the air between them, sharp and disorienting, like a slap to the face. Lee Know sat up straighter, his grip tightening around his phone. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
Chan exhaled slowly, as if preparing himself to repeat it.
“It happened two days ago,” he said, each word falling like a stone in the pit of Lee Know’s stomach. “She’s in the hospital.”
The entire room blurred.
His ears started ringing, his vision tunneling as his mind tried—and failed—to process the information.
Two days ago. The same night she left.
The same night he let her leave. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, erratic and painful, like it was trying to escape his chest.
He had sat here for the past forty-eight hours convincing himself that you were ignoring him, that you were fine, while you had been lying in a hospital bed.
Hurt. Alone.
His breath came in short, shallow bursts. “Where—” His voice cracked. He swallowed, forcing his throat to work. “Where is she?”
“Seoul General,” Chan said immediately, his voice careful, like he was waiting for the moment Lee Know completely unraveled. “Minho, listen, there’s something you should know before—”
But Lee Know was already grabbing his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’m on my way.”
“Minho—”
He hung up.
The drive to the hospital was a blur, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly they ached. His mind replayed every second of the argument, every harsh word he had thrown at you.
You’re exhausting.
Maybe you’re not enough.
His own words rang in his head, cruel and venomous. His stomach churned violently. Had those been the last things he ever said to you? What if—
No.
No, he couldn’t think like that.
His foot pressed harder on the gas, ignoring the honking cars and blaring traffic lights as he raced through the city. He didn’t care if he got pulled over. He didn’t care if he wrecked his car.
The only thing that mattered was getting to you.
Because he should have been there. He should have been the one to call you, to go after you, to make sure you were okay. Instead, he had let you walk out into the rain—into this.
And now, he didn’t know if he would ever forgive himself.
-
When he stormed into the hospital, his mind was a blur of panic and dread. He barely heard the receptionist’s words as she directed him to your room. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled his nose, sharp and overwhelming, making his stomach churn.
His hands were clammy as he reached for the door handle, but nothing could have prepared him for what was on the other side.
And then he saw you.
The sight of you nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
You were lying against the stark white pillows, the hospital bed swallowing your small, fragile frame. An IV was attached to your arm, the machine beside you beeping steadily. A bandage was wrapped around your forehead, and deep bruises bloomed all across your body, a cruel contrast against your fragile, pale skin. You had a nasty black eye and a cast on your arm.
His chest tightened painfully, his heart hammering so hard that he thought it might break through his ribs.
But it wasn’t the injuries that destroyed him. It was the way you looked at him. Not with anger. Not with resentment. Not even with sadness.
Just blank, unfamiliar confusion. You frowned slightly, tilting your head. “Who… are you?”
Lee Know’s stomach dropped.
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His body felt frozen, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat. You didn’t know him. You didn’t recognize him.
The weight of it crashed into him all at once, a cold, suffocating wave that stole every ounce of strength he had left. His entire world tilted off its axis, leaving him grasping for something—anything—to keep himself from breaking.
His worst nightmare had come true.
He forced himself to take a step forward, even though every part of him wanted to collapse.
“I’m Minho,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I… I’m your boyfriend.”
Your brow furrowed, something like sympathy flickering in your expression. But it wasn’t recognition.
It wasn’t love.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t… I don’t remember you.”
The words sliced through him like a blade.
A sharp, broken sound escaped him—something between a gasp and a sob. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers curling into tight fists as his entire body shook.
This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
He was supposed to come here and apologize. He was supposed to tell you how wrong he had been, how much he regretted everything he had said. He was supposed to beg for your forgiveness, to make you see that he never meant a single word of the venom he had thrown at you.
But now—
Now, you didn’t even know who he was.
His throat tightened as his vision blurred, hot tears spilling down his cheeks before he could stop them. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, his chest rising and falling erratically as the crushing weight of his mistakes pressed down on him.
You were right in front of him, but you were gone.
Lee Know sucked in a trembling breath, lifting a hand to his mouth as if it would somehow hold in the emotions threatening to tear him apart. His legs felt weak, barely able to hold him up.
His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
“You don’t remember me at all?”
You hesitated, looking down at your lap, fingers twisting in the thin hospital blanket. “No… I’m really sorry.”
He let out a quiet, shaky breath, a humorless laugh slipping past his lips. “Don’t be,” he murmured, wiping at his wet cheeks. “I think… I think that’s my punishment.”
Because he had been cruel. He had let his anger and pride destroy everything you had built together. He had told himself you’d come back.
But now, the universe had punished him in the worst way possible. You couldn’t come back.
You didn’t even remember what you were coming back to.
Synopsis: In which you figure out/realize your boyfriend is bulking up for whatever reason. And he figures out how much you like it.
Genre: Fluff/Suggestive
Pairing: OT8 x GN!Reader
Warnings: These scenarios DO talk about body image so if that makes you uncomfortable, do not read this. 18+ because there is sex mentioned. Also Chan's is just fluffy, sorry.
Chan:
"Are you.." Your words fall on nearly-deaf ears as you step into the bedroom, your boyfriend's nose buried in the screen of his laptop as he mixed a beat - silenced to the world by his headphones. He has one of the muffs tucked back behind his ear so he can hear you if you need him, and he peeks over when he realizes you were talking.
"Hm?"
"Are you bigger?" You question, eyes slowly raking over Chris' body which currently adorned nothing more than a black tank top and a pair of his sleeper shorts. The man pauses, smiles, and then giggles.
"No," He peeps through his smile full of teeth, eyes a soft crescent as his hands come up to his shoulders as if hiding away from your curious gaze. "Don't look at me like that!" Chris giggles out soon after, turning away. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he had been bulking a little bit just to see how his body would take it. He hadn't noticed anything different so far, but you seem to have - which only made him all the more giddy and flustered.
Minho:
Slowly turning his head in your direction, Minho's eyes fall wide and cat-like as he stares over at you in return to feeling your burning gaze searing holes into his poor back. ".... What?" He questions, already knowing you're about to ask him something with the way you look him over.
"Nothing," You hum, approaching to gently hug onto your boyfriend from behind while he prepares to cook dinner. "You just look a little more... broad, is all." Your lips meet his shoulder and Minho hums with a small smile.
He nods, "I've been working out a little more. Trying a routine Changbin told me about." Minho's gaze flickers back to the food, then in your direction even if he can't see you behind him. "... Broad is good, right?"
Your giggles fill his ears and he smiles. "Yes, baby. Broad is good. Broad is sexy."
Minho's brow cocks. He sucks the inside of his cheek in thought. Maybe dinner could wait - Dessert would have to come first tonight.
Changbin:
"You're so soft," Your mumbles are muffled in Changbin's chest, your face buried right between those big ol boobies his pecs. He's been laughing the entire time since you've laid atop him like he was your personal body pillow - which, he kind of was with how warm and soft he was to lay on. "I'm gonna stay here forever."
"I have to get up eventually," Changbin teases with a giggly smile, his arms wrapping over your back before he gently squeezes you into him. The whine that escapes your throat is breathless but content and it makes him laugh yet again. "Like that?"
"Love it," You sigh against him. "You're so warm and I just wanna --" Changbin sucks in a breath when your hands find his sides, fingers gently squeezing and kneading at the warmth of his stomach. He chuckles shortly after, cheeks turning rosy at the contact with his lower half. "Mm."
He peeks down to you, mimicking your hum in question. "... Did -- Uhm. Did you notice?"
"Did I notice you're bigger than before?" You lift your head to peer at your boyfriend and he smiles, cheeks dimpling. "Of course I did. I noticed when you hugged me. Your arms are frickin' huge. Could knock me out in a chokehold with those bad boys."
Changbin's smile falls and he stares down at you in reply, to which you mimic his expression. There seems to be a silent conversation happening when his brow cocks and you just smile at him. Yeah - You'd be getting backshots while being held in a chokehold later.
Hyunjin:
Overworking himself in the practice room wasn't something uncommon for Hyunjin to do. He was always in there, sweating away, practicing hard for new choreography and comebacks. Only this time you were there with him - which was something new, especially because he wasn't used to a shocked and excited gasp coming from behind him when he rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt to show his upper arms and shoulders.
"Oooh, look at these beauties," Your teasing words meet Hyunjin's ears just as he feels your hands wrap around one of his biceps. He looks over at you in slight surprise - You're touching him when he's dripping sweat from practice without any care in the world. His eyes fall to your hands around his arm before he smiles, a subtle but sweet giggle falling from his lips.
His cheeks dimple deep as he looks into the mirror when you peer at him, squeezing and kneading at the muscle under your hands. And of course your boyfriend flexes just to show off, rolling his sleeve just a little higher for you to get a gander at his guns. "Right? I've been working out more."
"I can tell," You coo beside him and he laughs out again, a bit breathless. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than it probably should have but you don't seem to mind, understanding just from the way he gazed at you that what you had said - and your admiration of his hard work - was a bit of a turn on for him. Nothing you couldn't help him out with later. ~
Jisung:
"You're the size of Chan, look at this! Look at this picture, Ji!"
But Jisung's in a fit of laughter, arms curled around his stomach as he rolls on the couch to face away from you. He can't look at the picture or he's only going to grow more nervous and shy. Jisung gasps out with a laugh as he peeks back at the comparison picture you had pulled up.
He'd been bulking for almost three months now and it was growing more and more obvious day by day. His arms were thick and you had noticed it as time went on - and Jisung was adamant on saying he wasn't that big, he wasn't that strong or bulky -- But you had other plans.
"I'm not as big as him-! Look at that, Look at how veiny he is-!" Jisung points at the picture before looking away again, his ears pink at the tips. "Aaah - Don't make me look again..!"
And you laugh out this time in return, hugging onto your boyfriend to bring him closer. "You're the one working out, Jisung, you're going to have to face the consequences of me being turned on by it." And Jisung pauses, eyes wide as he peeks back at you.
"You like it that much?" He peeps, eyes scanning your face. As you nod in reply, his cheeks burn red at the thought of it all. His gaze averts into the distance and he sighs out, looking more than determined all of a sudden. "I'm going to keep bulking forever..!"
Felix:
"I saw your runway videos. You looked incredible, sweetheart."
"Thank you, angel." Felix smiles from where he sits beside you, his body turned so he could lay in your lap. His shoulders pressed against your thigh and even then you could tell he was gaining more muscle - He didn't feel as thin as he had a few months or so prior. "Could you tell I was working out before I walked? Not right before, but. Before that day. Up until that day." He chuckles, looking up from his phone to peer at you.
When you nod in affirmation, he smiles. "Really?"
"Mhm. Your arms and chest look thicker than I think they ever have. It's a good look on you, Lixie. Are you happy with the results of your hard work?" Your hand brushes down his arm and his smile only grows as he nods against your thigh.
"Mm. I like how I look a lot, actually. I think it suits me."
"I think so too." You hum, eyes softening as you look down at him. Felix can feel the slight shift of energy between the two of you and his smile turns bright, knowing.
"My body turns you on so much you wanna have sex?"
"I wanna have sex."
Seungmin:
"You.. do know I can feel you staring at me, right?"
You blink a few times in slight embarrassment and turn your gaze away. "Sorry.."
"What's wrong?" Seungmin seems to assume something negative had happened as he sits beside you, placing a bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table.
"Eh - What? Nothing. Nothing, just -- The recent SKZCode video, you were wearing that tank top and you looked so..."
Seungmin's chest tightens as he stares over at you. He seems to think you're going to say something bad or say he looked weird and so he braces himself for the words to come from your mouth.
"You looked really sexy, min. It's a good look on you. Your shoulders are so broad and square. I just.." You shrug gently in reply and Seungmin nods, appreciating the compliment. "And you looked kind of.. bigger than I've seen before."
Seungmin blinks at this. Bigger --? His eyes widen, falling on the coffee table. Could you tell he was working out? He hadn't been planning to tell you, he just.. sort of hoped you wouldn't take notice too much and maybe even think he had always been a bit stronger than he was when you first met. "I've been.. bulking," He admits after a moment. "I can stop if it's too much though."
"What?" You look over, quickly shaking your head. "No--! No, oh my God. Do whatever you want, baby, you look incredible. You should do whatever you want with your body -- It's yours, not mine. But," You pause, cheeks rosy. "You do look really good right now."
He chuckles, biting into his lip in thought. "Thank you. Think I'll keep going, then. For me -- and you." He looks over and you have to look away to keep yourself from going insane - especially when he shrugs his flannel off and sits there in a tank top for the entirety of your movie night with his arm over the back of the couch.
Jeongin:
"Oh my GOD."
Jeongin drops off of the bar he had been holding onto to do pull-ups as his gaze shoots over in your direction. He stares, eyes holding a bashful glint at being caught working out. Well, not caught but - you'd never been present for it before.
"Look at you, look at this!" You beam, reaching out to gently hold onto your boyfriend's biceps and give them a teasing squeeze. Even when he wasn't flexing, his muscles were so well defined that it was almost.. picture perfect, really. Aesthetically pleasing from every angle even when relaxed. "You look incredible, baby."
And he smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips. "Thank you.~ I've been working hard today so I'm sorry if I'm a little sweaty."
"Mm? No, it's fine. You look good even when you're messy like this." You reassure and Jeongin has to kiss you again just for the compliment. "You know with these arms you might be able to toss me around soon. Just saying."
Jeongin cocks a brow, eyes narrowing as he looks down at you in interest. He wastes little to no time before bending down to pick you up, his arms lacing underneath your thighs to hoist you up against him with ease. He couldn't toss you around in the gym, really, but he could fuck you up against the mirror while holding you the entire time. Just to prove he could carry you, of course. Tossing came later.
synopsis. meeting your online best friend was something you'd been looking forward to for years. but what happens when he's like...really cute? pairing. online bsf!maki x reader genre. friends to lovers warnings. NONE. PURE FLUFF. wc. 1.1k
a/n. zanna says i can't do it. zanna thinks i live only in pain. zanna thinks i could never write something soft and sweet. FUCK U ZANNA. TAKE THIS SWEET LITTLE FIC AND EAT IT!! so yea, fuck u @slytherinshua
Your leg shook as you sat on the wooden bench in the park. You’d never been this nervous in your whole life- you felt like your heart was going to pound a hole in your chest. It wasn’t a bad nervous- it was an excited nervous. You were finally going to meet your best friend in the world.
You’d met Maki during the height of quarantine. You were a couple of bored kids who had nothing to do, so you practically lived online, playing games almost constantly to occupy your time. You met Maki on a random Minecraft server and nearly instantly became best friends. You’d talked nearly every day since then. Even though after quarantine, he started to become increasingly more busy by the day for reasons he wouldn’t disclose to you, he would still find the time to call you for at least a few minutes, and he texted whenever he had the chance.
Any time you asked what he was up to, it was always “Busy with family stuff”, “Travelling with friends”, “Studying hard”, but never any actual detail. He’d first brought up the idea of meeting in person a couple years ago, but your schedules had never seemed to line up until now.
You were worried you wouldn’t recognize him. You’d face-revealed to each other a few months after you started talking, but you hadn’t seen each other's faces since then. Not only were you worried that you wouldn’t recognize him, but you were worried that he would end up walking right by you without realizing it. Five years does a lot to a person. You vaguely wondered if you should make a sign or something like families do at the airport so he’d know it was you.
Then the sound of his voice saying your name came from behind you. Your head perked up, but you were too nervous to turn around. He said your name again, softer this time, hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure it was really you.
Your jaw dropped as you turned, not sure if what you were seeing was real. The image of the nerdy little theater kid you’d had in your mind for the past half decade was completely tarnished at the sight of the boy standing behind you. He was tall, kind of muscular, and really really pretty.
“...Maki?”
“That’s me.” He smiled, making his way around the bench for you to face each other properly.
Oh shit, he has dimples.
You gestured for Maki to sit down on the other side of the bench, your shaking even worse as he sat next to you. Damn it, he smells good, too. The two of you sat in silence, you were staring down at your shoes as you kicked the dirt, but you could feel Maki’s eyes on you, making you all the more nervous.
“You look really pretty.”
Without thinking, you let out a snort, “You can’t be telling me that when you look like a literal model.”
He grinned and looked down, hiding the blush that was creeping up his cheeks. It was odd; you’d spent the past five years of your life talking to this boy every single day. Even when you were both busy, drowning in school or work or life in general, you’d still make time to talk. But now, you could barely look at him. You’d had a picture of him in your mind for so long: a goofy little theater kid who looked like he might bite people. But now, a handsome tall young man was sitting in front of you, with bleached blond hair, perfect teeth, and expensive clothes.
You reflected back on yourself; did you look much different than the one and only time you’d shown him your face? You were five years older now- you were barely out of middle school when he’d seen your face. You liked to think you looked nice, but something about the way Maki looked now just seemed so unattainable. Even just as a friend.
Which is what he was: a friend. Your best friend. The boy you were on call with basically 24/7 during quarantine, the only person who could make you pause whatever you were doing just to answer his text, and you know he would, and often did, do the same for you. He knew almost everything about you, and you knew almost everything about him. You looked forward to hearing his voice everyday, the only thing that could make you smile even on your worst days. You loved Maki.
Oh no.
You loved Maki.
Sweet, kind, funny, apparently very handsome, Maki.
“Maki I-”
“Hey listen-”
You both chuckled at that. Even in person, you were still talking over each other. You gestured for Maki to go first, he took a deep breath before continuing.
“I’ve been looking forward to today for a really really long time.” The confident demeanor he’d been putting on faded as his gaze shifted from you to his folded hands in his lap. “You’re like, my best friend, you know? Like, you make everyday so much better just by texting me. My life’s been…insane lately. But you just…you’ve been keeping me sane through it.”
Your eyes briefly met each other before you both quickly looked away again, both of your faces burning a bright red.
“I just wanted to wait until we met in person to say this…” He continued, absently playing with the rings that adorned his fingers, “but…I really like you. Like, a lot. I have for a while, it just felt weird to say when we’ve never met before. But now that we have met, I know it’s real.”
He looked back up at you, grinning as he saw the way your jaw had practically dropped to the ground.
“Are you for real?” It came out as barely more than a whisper.
“I’m so for real. I really really like you.” His smile dropped just a bit, his eyes going back down to his hands. “...Do you like me, too?
“Of course?! You’re funny, and smart, and so sweet, and apparently really hot.” Your face burned pink as Maki chuckled, looking back up at you with his pretty eyes. God, his dimples killed you.
He stood up from his spot on the bench and offered his hand to you. “So, do you wanna make this a date, then?”
You smiled, your cheeks still burning, and took his hand. Standing up, you got the full scale of his height, causing your face to flush somehow even brighter. “Let’s do it.”
“Good. Let’s go! I was hoping you’d say yes; I made plans.”
“Of course you did.”
You fought the urge to giggle as Maki dragged you through the park, his hand tight in yours.
When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out.
Word Count: 4.3k
When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.
He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.
You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.
But then he showed up.
Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.
You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.
"Relax, I know these guys."
Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.
Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.
"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"
Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.
"Came to collect what he owes us."
Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?
Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.
"How much does he owe?"
"Sis really I can-"
Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!
Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.
"How much do you need tonight?"
The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.
You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.
"Let's go then."
When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?
You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.
The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.
"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"
"We'll talk about it later, ok?"
Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.
When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
"You got a boyfriend?"
You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.
"No. I don't."
He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.
"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."
"Why not?"
The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.
He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.
"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."
"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."
"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"
He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.
He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.
"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."
You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?
He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"
You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"
He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."
You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?
You take the card.
"Iiko [good girl]."
He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."
He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.
You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.
"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"
"I was drunk, okay?"
You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.
His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?
The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.
He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.
It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.
Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.
He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."
He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."
You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.
"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"
He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."
"Perv," you mutter into your drink.
On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.
But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.
"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."
You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"
Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."
When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.
A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.
But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"
"No."
"Then no."
He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.
He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."
When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?
Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.
"Let me teach you Japanese."
You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.
"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."
You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.
"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."
"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."
He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.
"What does it mean?"
"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."
He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.
Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.
"Say goodbye like I taught you."
"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."
He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."
You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.
Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.
He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.
"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."
When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.
"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"
He flops down into your lap before you can say no.
You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.
Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.
There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.
He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.
"Go on a date with me."
You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.
And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.
"Okay."
His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.
"Good. You'll like it."
By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.
But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.
"My brother's landlord-"
Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.
His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.
He looks good. Dangerously good.
He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.
You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."
He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"
He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.
He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.
"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.
"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."
"Explains why you asked me out then."
"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"
"I'm your girl? Since when?"
"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."
Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.
You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.
"You had fun tonight?"
"Yes. More than I expected honestly."
He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.
"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."
You clasp your hands together behind his neck.
"You liar."
He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.
Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.
His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.
You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.
When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.
He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.
"How much for tonight?"
"What?"
His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.
"How much to take you home?"
A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.
God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?
And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?
"Are you serious?"
"Obviously. How much do you charge?"
You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.
The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.
He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.
Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.
Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.
"I'm not for sale."
The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.
"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."
The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.
He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.
When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.
"I can't buy you."
"No."
"But I want you."
You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."
You shut the door without turning back.
He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?
But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.
When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.
You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?
Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.
"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."
You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"
He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."
"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."
He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."
That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.
"So why not just pay someone else?"
You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?
"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."
A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.
Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?
And yet...
You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.
And still you want him.
You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."
He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.
"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."
You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.
You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."
"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."
You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."
He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."
"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."
He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."
You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.
"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.
He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."
"But I am?"
"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.
"Tell me a secret about yourself."
It's his turn to study you. "A secret."
"That's what I said."
He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.
You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.
But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.
He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.
"It's incredible."
He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.
He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.
"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."
You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"
He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."
You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."
"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."
You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.
You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.
Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.
"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."
He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."
He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.
"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."
The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."
The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.
۶ৎ bad boy!enhypen x fem!reader┆fluff┆enha is whipped, kisses, petnames┆wc 698
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: eaurahhh i need down bad enhypen so bad it's nawt even funny dawg
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승
"doll face..how many are you putting in?" heeseung laughs lightly, trying not to move his head too much. "just sit still seungie," you answer, putting in the finishing touches. heeseung was sat on your shared bed, his signature, black, leather jacket adoring his body, while you carefully covered his hair in your favorite hair clips featuring sanrio, stars, flowers, hearts, and so much more. "done!" you smile, letting heeseung turn around to see the mirror. at one glance at his reflection, he just smiles, turning around to look at you. "angel, you're so precious."
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성
jay never let anyone touch his car. it was his prized thing and always loved to show it off. so when you came along, stealing his heart and all, how could he say no to your decorations? within a swift blink of an eye, you had placed little stuffed animals all around his car, adding in car pillows and cute little stickers on the seats and steering wheel. at first, jay almost had a heart attack, but when he saw your bright smile, he just couldn't be mad. "oh princess, i love you so much," he says, kissing your lips and admiring his now bedazzled car.
𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤
"yunnieee, stop moving!" you whine, making an angry-pouty expression at your boyfriend. "i'm sorry, pretty," jake says, smiling at your adorable face. you had set up a bunch of pretty colors to paint jake's nails, deciding that he needed more colors than just black in his outfits. once you had carefully finished each nail, you smiled, staring down proudly at your work. "wow baby! it's..beautiful!" jake smiles brightly--something he only did around you. "they match well with the black," you snicker, scrunching your nose. jake takes this as an opportunity and leans in swiftly, leaving a small kiss on your nose. "my payment."
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈
sunghoon had a motorcycle that he treasured almost as much as he treasured you. so when he came home to find you squatting down next to the bike, a bunch of sheets of stickers in your left hand and your right hand delicately placing them along his bike, he knew he loved you most. "angel? what are you doing?" he smiles softly, admiring the cute stickers. "your bike needed a makeover," you hum, still very focused on your stickers. sunghoon gently tilts your chin towards him for a minute, kissing your lips and smiling against them. "thank you, precious."
𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우
sunoo tended to have a lot of dark colored things, so naturally, you needed to fix that! you started with his black backpack, adding three key-chains to the zippers. they were brightly colored and stuck out very much against the black bag, but that was exactly what you wanted. "baby? was this you?" sunoo asks, walking in with his backpack in his hand and a small smile on his lips. "uh huh," you nod. "it was too boring," you add, simply looking at him with a smile. "well thank you for the glam," he smiles, leaning in and kissing your forehead.
𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원
"wonnie!! i got us matching hats!!" you giggle, showing him the two little cat beanies you found at the mall earlier. jungwon usually opted for darker and "cooler" clothes, but when it came to you, he just couldn't refuse. upon seeing the fluffy cat beanies, jungwon just smiled, letting out a small laugh. "thank you princess, they look adorable." you know that deep down, underneath his bad boy persona, jungwon secretly loved things like this. but you wanted to gate keep it for a little longer. your boyfriend was just too cute to share.
𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力
"little love, are you sure that that's natural?" ni-ki asks cautiously, staring at how clumpy his hair looked. "yes ki! i told you, that's just the dye! it'll wash out, i promise," you huff, turning off the timer. "okay now go wash it out," you say, helping ni-ki out of the trash bags you put him in so he wouldn't turn pink. "alright..i'm out," ni-ki says after finishing rinsing his hair. it was adorable. his base was still black but he let you had in streaks of pink, making him even more adorable. "hm, maybe i could get used to this."
WHAT. YOU'RE TALL?
also, OP is deactivated now bc I ate them.
I'm 5'6
@localcanadiancreature62 @same-pic-rick-roll @long-form-contentment @bl0ated-corpse
At the gate for my flight home from visiting friends and there's a woman here with a service Shiba Inu. No pics because he has a Do Not Disturb vest and taking pics of strangers is illegal but I need to stress how ON DUTY this animal is. Ears up. Eyes doing Lazer scans of everything. Examining everyone who passes within 10ft like a security guard. Ass planted on her feet. I have never seen a dog with such intense chivalric guardian energy before. He has tiny eyebrows and they are FURROWED with concentration.
Man behind me having unhinged phone conversation. There is an internationally famous dairy in the area I was visiting and he was commissioned by the lady on the other end of the phone to collect specific cheeses from there. The lady is very high strung about the type and condition of the cheese.
The man does not know from cheese. The man "ain't never seen no cheese but orange before" and "I showed ya list to the cheese lady so if it's wrong it's her fault ok?"
I am 80% sure she sent him there for a really specific bleu cheese, 40% sure he does not have the very specific bleu cheese, and 100% sure he's done with her shit.
Our flight is delayed.
He does not have the cheeses in a cooler, just a regular backpack.
I need to emphasize that there is no cooler bag in the backpack. He has Jansport backpack that is jam-packed with cheeses. There is apparently $405 dollars worth of cheeses in that backpack, which I know because he has been trying to get the lady to venmo him the expense, which she has failed to do. It is unclear whether his relation to the lady is romantic, familial or what, but I'm leaning towards "what".
Two more people have joined us. One is a very elegant man with a perfect manicure in a tailored business suit, the other is a neon-haired person of indeterminate gender wearing a fox kirigumi. The Shiba Inu has been staring at the latter for three minutes now.
Cheese man has been demanding payment because apparently he went like six hours out of his way and paid with his own money and between the cheese and price of gas, he is pretty sure he does not have enough money in his account for an Uber home.
The lady is FLABBERGASTED that he is demanding payment at all, as she was under the impression he was doing this for her out of the goodness of his heart.
He's not having it. He's insisting she told him she would pay him back- he would have gotten her maybe one cheese somewhere closer to his business in the area out of love, but he went out of his way because she agreed to pay him costs+ extra to cover it.
"YOU ALWAYS DO THIS! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS AND I FALL FOR IT EVERY TIME! NO! NO! FUCK YOU! IF YOU'RE NOT GONNA PAY ME, YOU DON'T GET FANCY CHEESE."
"OR ELSE WHAT?"
"I'm gonna-? THE BABY SHOWER? MONICA CAN'T EVEN HAVE THIS CHEESE SHE'S PREGNANT!"
"The cheese lady asked if it was for someone because the mushrooms or whatever in the cheese are dangerous for the baby or something?? You wanna poison Monica?"
"WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT THAT?"
"YEAH OF COURSE I GOT THE CHEESE, THATS WHY I DON'T GOT MONEY FOR UBER!"
"YEAH, GO TELL! GO TELL MOMMA I STOPPED YOUR STUPID ASS FROM KILLING MONICA OR THE BABY! FUCK!"
*hangs up phone*
*head in hands, borderline hyperventilating*
The man in the three piece suit is in the chair next to him. He waits a moment, then reaches into his carryon and pulls out an entire bottle of wine with the TSA pre check sticker on it, and taps cheese guy on the shoulder.
"If your friend doesn't want it, would you be amenable to having it right now?"
1. This is some fucking great Camembert. I have compensated cheese guy accordingly. So have like six other people. He's recouped like half his losses.
2. Cheese guy is crying a little about the cash and opening up about his problems. The cheese lady is his younger sister. Suit guy is being very generous with his Pinot Blanc. We are having a picnic/improv family therapy session.
3. This is apparently the latest in a long string of his sister asking for something and then flaking when he asks to be paid back. Started with paying him back only some of what he was owed, then claiming something she paid for him was of equal value when it was not, then recently telling him his memory is wrong and he said it was a gift or that he'd do it for free.
"Yeah, the specific thing of trying to convince you your memory is unreliable is called gaslighting and it's really fucked up." I say
"yeeeeah. The other stuff I forgave because she's never really had a good job so she can't pay me back all the time but at least she was making an effort y'know? But that was. That was over the line."
"If you haven't already, check on the rest of your family's finances. My brother started trying to gaslight everyone when he started stealing from our parents." Says Pinot Blanc.
4. Shiba Inu Lady has purchased a cheddar. Apparently, the dog's name is Donut, and he's her service dog because she's severely visually impaired.
"Oh, he's a guide dog?" Asks cheese guy.
"oh, no." She laughs. "He's too short, and the way my eyes are, it's easier for me to navigate with a cane. No, the problem I have is that some morally impaired people see the cane and think they can get away with stealing my bag or assaulting me because I wouldn't be able to give a description- which is wrong, but rather than deal with that I got Donut, and he helps me by howling at anyone who gets in my personal space and biting anyone who grabs me!"
"Uh." Says Kirigumi. "He's been staring at me do I need to back up or..?"
"Ohdear! No, no- He wasn't looking at you! He loves cheese but he knows he's not supposed to beg so he decided the way to deal with something he wants but can't have is to stare in the other direction."
"OKAY!" Says Kirigumi. "I'm wearing fox pajamas and thought like. He thought I was another dog or something."
"No, no- he doesn't care about dogs, and you get a warning before he goes for the calves. Very helpful, when I was living in Italy!"
"Oh what part? I have family in Tuscany." Says Pinot.
"Does he want a cheese? There is still so much cheese." Says cheese guy.
1. Cheese guy has sold all but two or three cheeses that he an Pinot are going to eat on the flight.
2. I know they're planning to continue because Pinot talked to the gate agent so he and cheese guy can sit together and talk about family drama and cheese.
3. Pinot has been teaching him about different types of cheese and how to enjoy them.
4. Cheese guy apparently repairs computers and other technology devices for a living and is currently doing the software version of scraping barnacles and other crap off Pinot'macbook.
5. Pinot is now convinced that cheese guy is the smartest and most interesting man in the world.
Ok so the Wifi wasn't working on the plane (also like, nonstop turbulence) and also they got seated in a different row from me, but:
Now that I've heard the word aloud, and they are an astrophysicist. Who correctly believes in being comfy as fuck on planes. They are also familar with the concept of a meet-cute and is rooting for them too.
Got to walk the nice lady and her Tactical Assault Shiba to her next gate because it was on the way out and talk for a bit. Donut is called that not because he is the color of a Donut (which he is) but because he likes to sleep curled up in a perfect circle. He has a sister who does the same thing named Bagel.
Lost track of Pinot and Cheeseguy for a bit but when I saw them again at Baggage claim, Cheeseguy was holding both their jackets, and Pinot was on the phone to his hotel about "Well do you have any rooms with TWO beds?". The rest of the call indicated that yes, there were rooms with two beds, but Readers, I Had A Moment.
:)
Anyway, it's 2AM, I need to sleep, if you feel like supporting this kind of hard-hitting reporting, I have a Tip Jar!
Reunited Moments: Stray Kids’ reactions to seeing their S/O after a long time
Bang Chan
The moment Chris sees you, his eyes widen in disbelief before softening with overwhelming emotion. A breath catches in his throat as he takes a step forward, then another – until he’s practically running.
"Y/N..." he whispers.
Before you can even respond, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, as if making sure you're really there. His warmth engulfs you, and you feel the way his fingers clutch the fabric of your shirt, refusing to let go. His chest rises and falls unevenly, and when you tilt your head up, you notice the slight shimmer in his eyes.
"I missed you so much," he murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion.
A tear escapes, but he doesn’t care. He kisses you gently, his lips soft against yours as though he’s afraid you might slip away again. His kiss deepens, letting himself believe that finally, finally, you're back in his arms.
Lee Know
As soon as Lee Know sees you, he freezes, his lips pressing into a firm line. His arms cross over his chest as he shifts his weight, trying to play it cool.
"Took you long enough," he mutters, looking away, but the way his fingers twitch at his sides gives him away.
You smile, stepping closer, and that’s when his façade cracks. Before you can even tease him, he sighs in defeat and pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“…Idiot. I missed you," he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. His grip on you tightens for a second before he quickly pulls back. "Don’t disappear like that again," he adds.
Even as he tries to regain his composure, his hands linger on your waist, unwilling to let you go just yet.
The rest of the day, Lee Know doesn’t let you stray too far. No matter where you go, he’s right there, a little too close, always glancing at you like he’s making sure you’re still within arm’s reach.
Changbin
The moment Changbin lays his eyes on you, his face lights up with pure joy. "Y/N!" he shouts, already moving towards you at full speed. Before you can even react, he scoops you up, spinning you around in the air as laughter bubbles out of you.
“I missed you so much!” he exclaims. The world blurs around you, but all you can focus on is his bright smile and the way his arms feel so secure around you.
When he finally sets you down, he immediately pulls you into another bone-crushing hug, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.
"Binnie—I can't breathee!" you gasp, laughing while patting his shoulder.
"Shh, just a little longer," he mumbles against your shoulder, refusing to let go. You feel his arms tighten slightly as if he's afraid you'll disappear again. "I don't wanna let go yet."
And honestly, neither do you.
Hyunjin
Hyunjin stops in his tracks the moment he sees you. His eyes go wide, his breath hitching as he stares like he's seeing a ghost.
"No way…" he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. He even blinks a few times before looking at you again. "Is this real? Am I dreaming?"
You laugh softly, taking a step closer. "I—I can't believe it," he says, voice trembling slightly.
You roll your eyes at his dramatics but smile nonetheless. "Yes, Hyunjin, I'm here. You can touch me if you want proof."
At that, he finally snaps out of it, rushing forward and pulling you into a desperate hug. His arms wrap tightly around you, his body molding against yours.
"I missed you so much," he murmurs, his voice quieter now as he simply holds you.
You smile into his shoulder, squeezing him just as tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Han
The moment Han lays eyes on you, his expression shifts instantly – his playful smile falters, his lips part like he wants to say something, but no words come out.
The second he reaches you, he crashes into you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly it nearly knocks the breath out of you. His head buries into your shoulder, and that’s when you feel it – his quiet sniffles, the way his body trembles slightly against yours.
"You—" His voice cracks, and he grips you even tighter. "I was gone for so long…"
Your hands run soothingly through his hair as you hold him just as tightly, your own heart aching. Minutes pass, but Han doesn’t let go, as if making up for all the time spent apart.
“Just a little longer,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
You nod, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "As long as you need."
And so you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you willing to let go.
Felix
The moment Felix sees you, he completely freezes. His eyes widen, lips parting slightly as if he can’t believe you’re really there. Then, before he can stop it, his eyes glisten with tears.
You barely have time to react before the first tear rolls down his cheek. That’s all it takes for you to rush forward, closing the distance between you. The second your arms wrap around him, he melts into you, gripping onto you like you might disappear if he lets go.
A shaky sob escapes him as he buries his face into your shoulder, his whole body trembling against yours. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, his deep voice breaking with emotion. His hands clutch the back of your shirt tightly.
You rub his back soothingly, holding him just as tightly. “I’m here now, Lix,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his hair asyou feel a wetness on your own cheek.
You pull back, gently wiping away a tear from your face. “Hey, no fair. Now you’re making me cry too,” you tease, your voice light but full of warmth, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Seungmin
The moment Seungmin sees you, a playful smirk plays on his lips. But is gaze softens the moment he notices the glisten of tears in your eyes, replaced by an expression of concern.
You try to brush it off, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "Aren’t you gonna tease me for crying?" you ask, trying to laugh.
But instead of teasing you, Seungmin steps forward, his arms immediately enveloping you in a warm, reassuring hug. His grip is firm yet gentle, as if he’s trying to convey just how much he’s missed you without saying a word.
"Hey I'm not that mean," he murmurs softly, his voice quieter than usual. "I missed you, too, you know."
You rest your head on his chest, the warmth and comfort of his embrace enough to make everything feel okay again.
I.N
The moment I.N sees you, his entire face lights up with pure joy. His bright smile spreads across his lips, his eyes crinkling with excitement as he practically bounces towards you.
"Y/N!" he exclaims as he rushes to you without a second thought.
Before you can even react, he pulls you into a warm hug, his arms wrapping securely around you. There's no hesitation, no shyness – just the sheer joy of having you back in his arms. He rocks you slightly from side to side, his laughter bubbling up like he can’t contain it.
"I missed you so much," he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you again!"
Seeing him this cheerful makes your heart swell, and you can’t help but smile just as brightly. “I think I do,” you say, squeezing him again.
you're no good for me, but baby i want you - n. riki ✶⋆.˚
summary: after growing tired of his constant teasing you made up your mind not to give Niki anymore of your attention, but you should've known that he wouldn't let you go that easily - and is willing to go to desperate measures to get you just to look at him
──── delinquent Niki x class president reader || sfw but a little suggestive, kissing/making out, so much tension like so much, enemies to lovers sorta? || w/c: 2.7k
a/n: okay i'm trying to get better at writing longer fics/ones that actually have closure bc looking back i realise i kinda always leave u guys on cliffhangers LOLL - also i rlly tried to avoid making this too cliche given the trope i hope it worked !!! actually really like this one so i hope it doesn't flop rip
‘Bad boy’ felt too cliche - at least for your liking. You preferred to refer to Niki as what he was, a delinquent, a troublemaker, someone who skipped most of his classes and spent the rest dosing off or arguing with the teacher. But no matter what you called him you were sure of one thing, he pissed you off.
To be honest, you had absolutely no interest in the sorts of things a student like him got up to in his own time, but it was the fact that he insisted on dragging you into his business that irritated you the most. You weren’t sure why exactly he kept targeting you, maybe it was because he just wanted to mess with the class president or because you seemed like an easy target to him - whatever reason he had didn’t make it any less tiring though.
Skipping classes was one thing, but his constant breaches of uniform code meant that you were running out of warning slips - and patience. It didn’t help that whenever you did, he would only look you up and down with an amused smirk, brows raised as if daring you to continue telling him off - which only worked to make you stumble over your words.
That’s why you had made the decision to stop giving him anymore of your attention, and the most recent time you had seen him sporting his signature look - no blazer, dress shirt half unbuttoned and several silver earrings, you chose to ignore him. You simply walked past him in the hallway without so much as a passing glance, hoping it would tell him to stop wasting your time and causing trouble.
Little did you know, he would misinterpret your signs to mean the exact opposite.
The next morning when you were waiting at your desk you heard a wave of hushed murmurs coming from down the hall, and couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. A loud thud sent the classroom door flying open and a couple of his friends filed in with amused grins - and it was only when Niki followed them in did you see why. Not only had he gone and messily bleached parts of his jet black hair, but he now donned a piercing straight through his right eyebrow which, judging from the pink tinge surrounding it, was both brand new and self-made.
You were unable to stop your neck from craning as your eyes followed his figure, watching as he sauntered over to his desk in the back corner of the classroom, threw his books onto it and sat down. The expression on his face showed that he couldn’t care less about being there, but his eyes trained on you as if waiting for you to make a move.
You hated that he knew you so well, because before you knew it you were out of your seat and at the head of his desk, arms folded with a stern expression on your face. You can’t remember exactly what you said but it must’ve been harsh, and loud enough to summon the attention of almost the entire class, and your teacher who stormed into the classroom shortly after to tell the two of you off. It must’ve also been harsh enough to earn the two of you an after-school detention, which was your very first - though it clearly wasn’t Niki’s.
So that’s how the two of you had ended up alone, in an empty, hot classroom - waiting as the minutes of your detention ticked by agonisingly slowly. Irritated was an understatement. It was taking every ounce of self-control you had not to turn around and punch Niki right there and then. You kept your fuming to yourself, at least for now though, while you worked silently on an assignment, determined to at least make good use of being stuck here for the next hour or so - even if it meant spending it in a tense silence.
Niki didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, having sat himself in the chair right beside yours and kicked his feet up on the desk, twirling a pen in one hand as he hummed softly to himself. You were trying your best to ignore him, and he was trying his best to make that very difficult.
“What are you working on?” he asked curiously as he leaned in over your shoulder.
“Just an assignment,” you shot back curtly.
“Ah of course, what a goody-two shoes,” he scoffed as he sat back.
“Rather a goody-two shoes than a good-for-nothing delinquent,” you mumbled under your breath, though not quiet enough to escape his ears.
“A delinquent? Is that really what you think of me?” he asked in faux-offence, “I’m hurt.” You turned slightly, just enough to see the dramatic pout he had formed across his lips, his brows curving upwards and his piercing going with it.
“Whatever,” you huff, feeling both irritation and exhaustion rise in you, “it’s your fault we’re here in the first place anyways.”
“Oh yeah, my fault that you started a petty argument.”
“Your fault for dyeing your hair that stupid colour and getting that piece of metal jammed in your face!” You cry out, fully facing him now as you felt your face burning hot, “I mean seriously, all I did was ignore you once, and you go ahead and did something ridiculous like that?” Gesturing to his piercing and new hair, you can’t help but feel even more infuriated at the sight of his smirk which only grew as he watched you from half-lidded eyes.
“What makes you think I did it for you?” He asks teasingly, and you suddenly feel your bravado begin to crumble - he’s right, who are you to assume that?
“Well, I-” you stutter, but he interrupts you.
“Well maybe I did,” he laughs softly, “that depends on whether you like it or not.”
“That is so besides the point, Niki,” you whine, “it’s against uniform policy.”
“Oh c’mon, you think it’s a little cool,” he taunts, and you turn back around in your seat, chewing your bottom lip as you’re determined not to give him a response which you’re sure will only fuel his ego.
You sit in silence for a bit, and you can tell he’s watching you carefully in the way he leans in, keen eyes trained on your expression - almost as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking. But that’s a challenge even you’re struggling with right now.
He’s the one to break the silence again. “I am sorry about getting you a detention though, that wasn’t what I meant to do.” You blink in disbelief because for the very first time, he sounds almost as if he really means what he’s saying.
“Is that an apology?” you say, gasping to show your surprise, though this quickly dissolved into a soft laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t sit here and watch you sulk for the next hour.”
You can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the tension between the two of you melt away at his apology, just enough for you to want to keep talking to him - even if it means neglecting your homework, for now. Your eyes move over his face, his sharp jaw, his eyebrow piercing glinting under the warm classroom light.
“Did it hurt?”
It’s a stupid question, you know, but it’s the only thing you can think to ask as you fiddle nervously in your seat. If you’re being completely honest, you do think it’s cool, you’ve always thought his piercing were cool - and right now you want nothing more than to reach out and feel them for yourself. But your common sense stops you.
“Well, duh,” he scoffs, sitting back in his seat as his eyes fix on yours, “figured a smart-ass like you would’ve been able to guess that.”
“Just asking,” you grumble defensively, though your curiosity urges you to keep talking. “If it hurt, why’d you do it?”
“Well, you like it, don’t you?” He asks, “that’s all the reason I need.”
You’re tempted to tell him off again, but something about his tone catches you off guard - it’s oddly earnest, and he says it with such a simplicity that makes you really believe that maybe he’s telling the truth and you’re unable to find the resolve to spoil this moment
“Can I feel it?”
He’s almost as shocked by your request as you are, and even as it leaves your mouth you’re unsure entirely why you’re asking it. His eyes widen in a way that you can’t help but find a little cute, even as you’re struggling to process your own thoughts.
“Sure,” he replies, a little too quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask him that, but can’t believe you actually did. You turn in your chair to face him, your arms coming up awkwardly to bridge the distance between you both but it’s clear you’re still too far.
You’re about to lean forward more in your seat to reach him, until you notice his hand coming down to grip the leg of your chair and it isn’t until you feel yourself moving and hear the faint screech of the legs against the floor that you realise that he’s pulling it - pulling you closer to him.
Once you’re close enough he stops, though his hand doesn’t leave the back of your chair, instead resting there as if trapping you in with him as he leans down as that his face is level with yours. You try not to overthink the way your knees are touching, or how this is your first time seeing him this close and how he’s even better looking up close. Carefully, you bring your hand and pray that he doesn’t notice the way it trembles, as your thumb grazes his thick brow gently. Even though you wish he didn’t, he keeps his eyes open and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you as your fingers close around the small metal ball.
“It’s cold,” you mumble, not sure what else to say to fill the air between you two.
“It’s metal,” he says matter-of-factly, letting out a small laugh at your fascination with it.
“You didn’t need to to do this just to get my attention, you know,” your eyes focus on the piercing as you speak, unable to look him in the eyes when admitting something that feels like a confession.
“I had to get you to look at me somehow.” You’re again amazed at how he can say such earnest things with such a serious face, and even as you look away you know his eyes are on you.
“Most people would’ve just said hi or something, not put a brand new hole in their face,” you sigh, fingers moving to tuck a stray strand of bleached hair behind his ear.
“Well most people wouldn’t be here now with you touching their face, so by my standards my plan worked better.”
“Did that plan have to include getting me my first-ever detention?” You ask in annoyance, though you can’t help but laugh softly at his simplicity.
“Well, not at first,” he admits, “but at least we’re alone, hm?”
“Because you need me alone to talk to me?”
“No, because I need you alone to do this.”
You’re pretty sure if you weren’t already leaning towards him you would’ve fallen backwards from the forceful way his lips crash into yours - and if not from that then the sheer shock of just that. Luckily for you though, he already has an arm snaked around your waist, keeping a hold of you and pulling you closer.
It shocks you though that, despite the initial force, Niki’s kiss is gentle, almost as if he’s easing you into something he knows you’re struggling to accept. He’s experienced, that’s for sure, but you can tell in his movements that he’s holding back from pushing you any further.
You don’t even realise it but your hands are cupping his face, caressing his strong jawline and pulling him closer to you. You open your mouth to talk but the only noise that comes out is a breathy gasp and if you weren’t so caught up in the feeling of his hands in your hair you might’ve stopped to feel embarrassed about how desperate you sound for him right now.
“Niki,” you mumble against his lips, unsure of what to do as you feel your mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening.
“Want me to stop?” he says in between heavy breaths, and even though it sounds like a taunt you know him well enough to know he’s being serious.
You shake your head in response, but decide to have a little fun of your own while you can. “When have you ever cared what I want?”
“Oh, you have no clue,” he hums in a low whisper as he leans back in.
“And when have you ever listened to what I’ve told you to do?”
“You’re right about that,” he smirks, pressing his lips to yours again, this time with the reckless abandon you’ve come to expect from him - almost as if he was waiting for your permission to let go. You thought you would’ve felt a little predictable, pathetic even, for having fallen so easily into his trap and giving him much more than just your attention at this point. But from the way his hands roam your body, grasping for more of you as he whines against your lips you smile to yourself at the realisation that really, he’s the one who’s fallen into your trap.
This sense of control is what finally calms your mind, even if it still struggles with just how ‘wrong’ all of this sounds against how right his lips on yours feel. The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway however forces you to tear yourself away from him, though his hands don’t leave your body as you strain to figure out who it might be.
“Shit, it’s the teacher,” you say under your breath, pulling away from him to smooth down your skirt. Niki clearly doesn’t care, but still lets out a soft sigh as he hangs his head, leaning back in his chair.
“Tomorrow,” you continue suddenly, “I want the eyebrow piercing and the bleached hair gone.” You know you’re being harsh, but you also know that, given what just happened, you can’t afford to be nice.
“Wh-” he says suddenly, looking at you in disbelief, “I thought you liked them though.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say firmly, “they’re still breaking like ten different uniform rules.”
“Just when I thought I’d finally broken your guard down,” he groans.
“Well, they’ve served their purpose already, haven’t they?” you taunt lightly, bringing a hand up to swipe at your bottom lip which you can feel is a little plump from him biting it. His eyes watch attentively as you do, and he lets out a soft laugh followed by a nod in agreement.
“You’re right,” he exhales, “but now I’m thinking if I keep them in I might keep getting lucky.”
“Niki,” you sigh.
“I mean, maybe if I had a reward for following rules I might feel more motivated,” he hums, looking away as he feigns innocence.
You pause, thinking to yourself for just long enough. “I’ll be studying in the library after school, maybe if you do as I say I’ll let you join me.”
“Studying? That’s what we’re calling it now?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll be there,” he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile - one that you can’t help but share even as the same teacher who gave you both this detention comes in to tell you you’re free to go.
You watch as he swings his bag over one shoulder coolly, tossing you his signature smirk - only this time, it doesn’t just annoy you, it lingers, sticking to your thoughts in a way you don’t want to admit. Because you know you should be mad, you should roll your eyes and remind yourself that he’s still the same infuriating troublemaker. But as he walks away the only thing you find yourself wondering is if he’ll actually show up tomorrow, and worse, if a part of you wants him to.
note : thank u so much for the support lately T—T i’m so thankful for all of my new friends !!! this one is for @niohoon <33 individual bf series will be soon !!
playing : its you - max and keshi
🚎 kei
- hahaha he pays for everything
- he likes fancy dates where he can wear a suit for u ;))
- gives u lil piggyback rides if u get tired <3
- opens doors for u
- AND PULLS YOUR CHAIR OUT AT THE fancy RESTAURANT HE TAKES U TO
🚎 fuma
- always buys you flowers </3
- AND HE DRIVES FOR U AAA IM GONNA PASS OUT
- another mf to pull your chair out if ygs eat somewhere
- AND HE PUTS YOUR HAIR BEHIND YOUR EAR IF ITS IN THE WAY <//3 <//3 CRYING
- he’s so cute
🚎 nicho
- he buys ygs matching outfits to wear awwe
- GOES CLOTHES SHOPPING WITH YOU
- always takes candid pics of u :,))
- makes them his lockscreen later that day
- and posts them to his insta AWWWW hahaha faints
🚎 euijoo
- i feel like he does dates w you very often
- takes u to those super aesthetic cafes
- or a convenience store no in between
- i also get boba and ice cream date vibes from him
- a sweetheart pls protect euijoo forever T—T
🚎 yuma
- (texting) “y/n lets go on a date”
- “okay!!”
- “okay i’ll be there in 5 mins”
- “wait what”
- makes u rush putting ur clothes on HAHAHA
- im kidding he’s a sweetheart and he’d help you put jewelry on and choose ur outfit >.<
🚎 jo
- “where do you want to go”
- anything u say, he’s willing to do it with you T-T
- buys anything you look at
- “jo look this is so cu-“ then he pulls his credit card out
- also will try on anything u want him to lmao
🚎 harua
- shopping dates woohooo
- yk that pic of him w those pokemon shopping bags
- SO YGS GO TO A POKEMON STORE YAY
- buys two plushies one of umbreon (his fave) and UR FAVE POKEMON and puts them next to each other on his bed
- “look y/n its us!!”
🚎 taki
- ik this is cliché but he likes fun dates :((
- being an idol is Hard but he likes being silly w you :(((((
- arcade dates ? yeah arcade dates ^^
- holds ur hand everywhere awww
- “y/n we should go to the moon together one day”
- “…. sure taki”
🚎 maki
- he doesn’t care what ygs do, he just wants to spend time w you :((
turnnoffyourmind
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
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