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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

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Tutor: Lost Time - Rafe Cameron

Words: 5.2k+ Type: Smut & Fluff Summary: Rafe's back :') Warnings: Female!Reader. Secret Relationship. Lying to friends and family. SMUT {begins abruptly, VERY, VERY FILTHY, piv sex (mentions of oral, fem rec, and fingering), rough sex, a lot of overstimulation, dacryphilia, no condom (she's on the pill), a lot of kissing, a lot of aftercare}. Might need some more proofreading.

Tutor Masterlist (for context, you should read the other smuts <3)

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

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Rafe’s back.

He got back today, an exact day early as he and his father didn’t want to deal with the supposed hotel food for much longer. The last conference was yesterday morning, and they stayed with Ward’s friends for just one more night at the bar.

You were just finishing up talking to Rose about this week’s payment for tutoring when it happened. Wheezie was sitting on the kitchen island waiting for you to be done so she could finally talk to you about the show you two watch every week. The conversation went on and on, and you almost felt bad for the girl because her step-mom really wasn’t doing much for the conversation to be done any soon.

It was around that time that you heard a car park in the driveway. You heard some voices just at the same time as Rose did. The two of you stopped talking, and Wheezie only stood there silently, waiting to see what it could be.

Rose was the one that walked out to see who it was. You didn’t even have the chance to start a conversation with Wheezie because you two soon heard Rose happily announce:

“You’re back early!”

You practically felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest, and Wheezie quickly got up and disappeared before you could even say anything. She went over to greet her dad and older brother, and you tried to ignore your over-excited body and make yourself walk slowly over to the front door.

When out of the kitchen, you faced everyone still on the porch. All of them were speaking so happily between themselves. Wheezie was right beside Rafe as the two of them speak to one another, and Rose was walking back outside with Ward.

Rafe’s back was towards you, so you couldn't exactly do anything except get into their conversation. Yet, that wasn’t needed. As soon as he heard someone behind him, Rafe looked right over his shoulder, and his eyes went to you.

You two only spoke a little, nothing to raise suspicions, as you only said ‘hi’ and politely asked and answered about the trip. Wheezie stared at the two of you as you spoke, but she never intervened. She could never hate her brother, and she likes you too much to not like you in every situation. Seeing you two talk almost felt a little relieving to her, as it's as if her favorite people are finally interacting.

She also noticed how much you smiled at Rafe, but it never clicked. Why would it? You smile at everyone. You’re nice to everyone. Was she supposed to find it suspicious that you were smiling and being nice to her brother?

When Ward and Rose came back, the two of you were acting just too normal for them to notice. Ward did see the way his son would steal a look at you a few too many times, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of anything. It looked innocent. It looked normal.

It wasn’t until Rose remembered that she hadn’t finished her conversation about your paycheck with you that all of you moved away from the front of the house. You followed Rose to the kitchen, Ward began carrying his bags upstairs, Wheezie ran back to her room to get your things without you knowing, and Rafe was supposedly in need of something to eat.

“I’ll transfer the money to you as soon as I can, this afternoon.” Rose had told you.

Rafe was messing with something in the cabinets as she spoke, and she soon disappeared out of the kitchen to go check on something with Wheezie - something about an extra hour in her schedule of tutoring.

It didn’t take Rafe 2 seconds to pull you by your hand and have you in between him and the kitchen counter. Your lips touched softly at first, but then it got messy and amusing. It was one of those messy and quick make-outs that the two of you seem to always end with laughter at the end. Rafe’s hands were all over you. They squeezed onto your sides, your boobs, your ass, your thighs, everything.

That whole thing stopped when you two heard a car pull up to the driveway. Ward said your name by the stairs of the house, and you two separated immediately.

Just in time, he came into the kitchen only to find Rafe with his back to you and messing with a box of cereal and you with your phone in hand.

“Your friends are here.” He said.

You could not express how disappointed you were with your ride coming to get you so soon. You still thanked Ward, and he walked right out after acknowledging you with a 'no problem'.

“You better be free in two hours.” Rafe whisper-yelled behind you.

You pulled away from the counter, and Rafe walked over and laid a kiss on the side of your head right as you let out a sigh.

After that, you felt like you were on a mission. A big one too. You said ‘bye’ to Rafe before anyone else could walk in, Wheezie appeared on the stairs with your things in hand just as you were going up to see her. You said bye to her and her step-mom, and, when you were outside, you simply waved at Ward and got into the car.

You were indeed on a mission. The mission was to get rid of your friends (in the nicest way possible) and get your parents out of the house - since there is no other place where the two of you could go. You had decided on this mission before you could even consider it a second time. But you had the feeling in your bones that if you didn’t follow your own instructions, you’ll be hating yourself forever.

Your friends were the easiest. You just had to say that you felt sick, and they dropped you off right away. Right before screaming at you to better get yourself feeling better until tomorrow, the day of the Bonfire party. You promised you would, and then, your mom was waiting for you right at the door.

She thankfully didn’t hear that you were ‘sick’ so she just casually welcomed you in, and you walked with her to the kitchen. You talked to her as she made dinner. You were probably in your best mood for the past 2 weeks, and she noticed it. You know she did. You sneaked into that conversation, many times, how she hasn’t been going out with dad for some time. You did it so carefully, you knew she couldn’t see your plan from a mile away.

You had an hour and a half for your plan to work, and it was going to work, goddamn it. You eventually ate dinner with your dad as well and slipped in those ideas too. Your plan began to work as soon as one of them said that it was a clever idea to go either to a family-owned bar by the beach or the cinema. You never nodded so hard in your life, your neck hurt.

But then they began to invite you to go with them, and your plan began to backfire. You’re the epitome of a person that doesn't leave their house much. You can't, you have to study and sulk about your boyfriend being away for 2 weeks. Those were your responsibilities. Plus hiding the entire thing.

Surprisingly, with 20 minutes left, you did it. You named a random movie that would be playing at the island's small weekly movie night at the park, and that you 'supposedly heard that Kristy’s parents would be there'.

You fucking did it.

You also played into the whole “I’m so tired, I think I’m going to sleep but we’ll hang out tomorrow” ordeal and walked over to your room. They were saying their goodbyes to you in less than 10 minutes and moving out of the driveway in less.

You took a quick shower and put on some clean clothes, all to be done by the time Rafe texted you. It was already getting dark out when he was at your front door, but you really didn’t care much because you were so, so excited, it was becoming an inhumane feeling.

Inside closed doors, you two kissed for probably two seconds before Rafe threw you over his shoulder and ran upstairs. You were laughing by the time you hit the mattress, Rafe hovered over you and let you put your hands on his cheeks. A huge smile was on your face as Rafe stared back at you. Your heart was racing, and you felt all giddy from having him with you.

“I missed you.” You whispered at him.

“You did?” He asked while leaning closer to you.

You nodded happily as he got closer to you, and you weren’t even an inch away from each other as Rafe laid a kiss on your lips. It was soft, even though short, and it made you look at him with those eyes, those puppy eyes that he has been seeing in his mind for the past weeks. All filled with love and admiration for him. Always. They're always there. He kissed you again and again, only just to see them one more time when he would pull away.

Your lips are always so soft and the kisses are always so sweet, Rafe almost had to physically hold himself back from even deepening it because he didn’t want to ruin the sweet moment so soon. Your hands caressed his cheeks and sometimes moved to touch his smooth hair. Rafe took everything in and absorbed every pleasant touch.

When you pulled away from the kiss and stared at each other for a while, Rafe noticed the way you were looking at him. Before you got to speak, there was this playfulness on your face right away.

“You didn’t miss me?” You asked him, lifting your hand to poke at his chest, “Uh?”

Even Rafe smiled at that before reconnecting your kiss. You might have ruined the kiss with a giggle, but Rafe never seemed to mind as he smiled right back at you too.

“Of course, I did.”

After that, clothes flew across the room. Rafe took his shirt first, and then took your shorts off. Both of which you’ll probably have to go look for eventually because you have no idea where they landed. In the midst of kisses, your shirt was off next and so were Rafe’s pants.

You wish you could still remember every part of what followed after all of that, but it all became a blur by the time you had your third orgasm. Rafe must’ve come back to the island with a purpose, you swear it. He made you cum on his fingers two times, then went down on you, and he has been fucking you for… God, you don’t even know at this point.

You’re as if you’ve just run a marathon, and you’re finding yourself incapable of keeping quiet. Your entire body has become extremely sensitive, as one can imagine, and you haven’t thought of even stopping yet. The air around you is warm, and the entire room must smell like sex. Rafe has cum at least two times, but you’re also not so certain about that either, anymore. If you are even able to utter your own name, it would be a miracle.

Rafe’s cock is sliding in and out of you at a rough pace, his length hitting every little bit of the inside of you. His hands are by your hips, holding them up as your legs have started to give out from under you. Your head is laid in between pillows, which so happens to muffle your sounds slightly. Your moans come out of your mouth with each of his thrusts, some of them are low and almost silent but you’ve become so sensitive and overstimulated, they sometimes become weak squeaks of just another orgasm coming through.

Rafe smooths his hand up your back, and his heavy breathing is your only idea of how he has to be tired too at a time like this. His hand stops by your shoulder, and with a simple pull, you’re back on your knees, your back against his chest, and your noises are back to their full volume.

“Rafe…” You moan with your eyes closed and as you reach to hold onto his hand.

He shushes you as he brings his lips to your neck. His kisses almost feel like too much, his warm breathing down to your hot skin is even worse. You almost want to flinch away, but you only pull him closer. Tired or not, your hips work against Rafe’s too, taking his cock deeper inside of you and making yourself moan louder.

Rafe takes one of his hands down to your cunt. It has become slightly swollen with time, naturally, your clit and some bit of your inner thighs are covered with your slick from all of your orgasms, as well as Rafe’s cum. Rafe leans his chin on your shoulder, working inside of you as his hand touches you all over. Your wet skin moves easily against one another, and you can already feel your lower stomach begin to burn again.

You pull Rafe’s hand away, and he lets you do it. You lean forward and grab onto the headboard of your bed, trying to get some stability. Rafe looks down at the two of you as you open some space between you two. He watches the filthy image with his own eyes, not just with his hand now. The entire length of his dick, his balls, and his pelvis are soaked with you and his cum. He also doesn’t know for how long you two have been at it, but, he doesn’t plan on stopping.

Rafe leans his hand onto your leg, and he feels how shaky it feels. You’re not one to complain ever, he has gotten that down, but he also isn’t going to force you into this position for this long.

You whine out loud and gasp as he pulls out of you, and you look over your shoulder.

“Lay down.” He whispers at you.

The two of you are panting for air, and you hold on tight to the headboard before moving. When you turn around, facing Rafe, you take a seat on the bed first and then lean close to him for a kiss. Sensitive or not, you’re still you. You’ll always want to kiss him.

Your cheeks are wet with past tears. One’s who have come to attack your eyes by the time you first considered yourself overstimulated for the first time tonight. You promise that they’re happy tears, and you’ve promised that to Rafe too. They always seem to come out when you feel too good. Your entire body just seems to struggle to cope with him and his antics.

Rafe, in the midst of the kiss, grabs onto your legs and brings them to his hips, all before pulling you down and making you lay down. You break away from the kiss and look down at yourself.

“You okay?” Rafe asks you, and you nod, but you don’t break your concentration on yourself.

You feel him bring one of his hands over to your face and wipe your tears away. You look at him for just a few seconds, staring into his eyes innocently, as he dries your cheeks with his warm palm. Rafe lays a peck on your lips one more time and then pulls back a little.

You look down and watch as Rafe slides back inside of you. It’s pathetically easy for him to do so, and your back arches off the bed right as he does it. Rafe feels the way your walls still cling onto him so tightly, he doesn’t even know how he’s still finding the strength to keep going. And you feel the exhausting pleasure begin to coil at the end of your stomach all over again, making you contract your already tired muscles.

Rafe sits up, not hovering over you anymore, and thrusts into you. Your entire body is exposed to his eyes as he sits in this position. There isn’t much light but the one on your bedside table, giving your body this golden highlight to it. You couldn’t look more perfect than at this moment.

He looks up at your face again to already see those tears coming back. A smile pulls at his lips as he can’t help it. You always look so helpless and tonight is the whole summary of it. You’ve cum way too many times but you’re taking each one like you just want more.

Rafe makes you let out a broken sob as he does a particularly harsher thrust and, when you meet his eyes to see his smile, your walls squeeze him way too tight.

“Oh, my nasty princess.” He whispers at you, “You’re close again, aren’t you?”

You nod quickly at him, bringing one of your hands to a pillow just beside your head, trying to ground yourself and not cum again so soon.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Rafe curses out loud, making a different warmth navigate through your body.

You gasp for air after trying to hold onto your noises for a little bit, but it all fails. Your moans are repetitive, and Rafe takes them all in with pride. He brings his hands down at your cunt, touching your lips, the sensitive outlines of your entrance just around his cock, feeling how tight you're closed around him, and when he touches your clit, you look as if you’ve just been shocked for a second.

Rafe touches it again, despite your whines, and this time, it lets it lay there, putting down pressure on it with his thumb, and you look at him. His eyes are back on yours right away, watching the way your adorable and fuckable unconscious tiny pout comes back to your face, your eyes filled with tears and little weak noises escaping you.

Your tears spill out to your cheeks, and Rafe begins to work his thumb in circles around your clit. You hold on tighter to the pillow just beside you and bring your other hand to his wrist trying to stop him. Rafe doesn’t pull his hand off as he never feels you push or pull him away, your hand holds onto his wrist but doesn’t move after it.

He continues to circle your clit with that much pressure as he thrusts into you, your hold on his wrist tightens but, again, you never move him away.

Rafe suddenly feels your walls tighten around him all over again and only thrusts into you deeper. Your hold on his wrist lifts as you become a moaning mess under him. Suddenly, your eyes roll to the back of your head right after you close them, your back arches, your legs by Rafe’s hips tighten, and your entire body explodes with orgasmic pleasure all over again.

Your sounds are a mixture of moans, pleas, sobs, and almost screams. Rafe stops moving when those same sounds change into a very small pained whine. His hips still, and his hand lifts.

Your eyes are still closed, but your body has almost completely relaxed in front of Rafe. You’re still breathing heavily, and your hands are now not clinging onto anything. Rafe is still deep inside of you, so, when he moves to hover over you and bring his face close to yours, you frown and your breathing falters just a little.

You could feel his warm body close to yours before you even begin to open your eyes. When you do so, your eyes meet Rafe’s right as you do it. You’re exhausted, your entire body has begun to force you to sleep, but you’re not letting it just yet.

“I’m okay.” You whisper at him before he gets to ask. “Just need to pause for a second.”

Rafe kisses your palm when it comes to his face, and you watch him as he does it. He then kisses your wrist and keeps his eyes on you the entire time. If you didn’t feel so tired, your heart would’ve been tightening like crazy at him and his actions. He’s always so sweet to you, you can’t gather the strength to even hold or hide in your love for him anymore.

Rafe notices the look you’re giving him. Your eyes have never looked so in love. He thinks that it could be off the daze for having had multiple orgasms in the past hour (probably), but he doesn’t say anything. He lays another kiss on your palm and then moves over to your fingers.

You giggle under him as he kisses each of your fingertips, and Rafe grins at the sound of your laughter. Each finger gets a kiss, and you watch as he does it.

When Rafe pulls away from your hand, he looks down at your eyes again.

“What time is it?” You ask him tiredly.

“I have no clue.”

The two of you chuckle at that, and Rafe leans in closer to your face again. You lift your head off the bed to close the space between the two of you. The sounds of making out substitute the sudden silence all around the warm room. The noise of your wet lips and tongues moving and each pulling away from the kiss. All of it is audible. Rafe loves every bit of it, and you soon feel his hand by the back of your head, holding it steady.

When he pulls back to check on you, he’s interrupted by you.

“Just one more.” You whisper at him, making him chuckle and kiss you again.

You hum happily into the kiss and wrap one of your arms around Rafe’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. Your body is slowly regaining energy with time, and he can tell.

You disconnect from the kiss, and Rafe pulls back a little further this time.

“One last time?” He asks you, and you smile at him.

“Yes.” You say as his hand lays on one of your thighs and tightly squeezes it, “But be gentle.”

Rafe sits up as he continues to look at your face, and it’s almost comical the way he does it. Before you even get to laugh, Rafe moves his hips back, and your mind loses track of any coherent thought right away.

Rafe is about to ask you if you’re okay (again) and if anything hurts, but his answer soon comes into the air as you let out a little teeny tiny moan at the slightest movement he just did. He stays still inside you for one more bit, and his hands slide over your skin to hold onto your hips. He squeezes them, liking the feeling of your soft skin under him, and he’s met with the feeling of you moving your hips for him to keep going.

His hand comes to lay over your stomach and right as that happens, he begins to actually thrust into you. The entire strength that your body got back in those minutes is absolutely lost to pleasure yet again. You feel weak under him, like complete putty in his hands.

Rafe leans forward and lays a hand close to your head. It’s a familiar position between the two of you, and you’re not complaining. You watch his muscular arm contracting as he holds his own weight. Rafe’s body is absolutely maddening, and he has no idea how much you're eyeing him right now.

The filthy squelching sound comes back to the room, and you look down at the two of you, watching as your pussy takes his cock in and out all over again. You can’t understand why, but it feels good to just watch it. Rafe notices it and lifts his hand from beside your head, grabbing the back of your thighs. As soon as his hands are on the back of your knees, he pulls your legs flush against your torso, making him thrust into you much deeper and expose your soaked and puffy cunt to the both of you much better.

Your hand comes over to your pussy, your fingers don’t play with your clit as you know it’s very sensitive but you feel as your fingers soak.

Rafe watches you silently, letting out a moan or two at the way you squeeze him or the way you look down at yourself. It's an image he knows will haunt his mind at all times, but he never pulls his eyes away. You touching yourself has to be one of the most beautiful sights on the entire planet.

You pull your hand away after some time, and Rafe watches as you do it. You catch his eyes and a mischievous smile appears on your face - speaking of beautiful sights. You bring one of your fingers to your mouth, and Rafe watches as you suck onto the cum covered digit. You smile proudly for one second before moaning a little louder by Rafe thrusting into you with much more strength than before.

You pause before bringing your other finger into your mouth and don’t even think before outstretching your hand to Rafe. He takes your other cum-covered finger into his mouth, and your expression breaks into a frown as you moan weakly with the sight. He tightens his hold on your legs, and you whimper at a harsher thrust yet again.

Rafe pulls away from your hand, and he can feel his abs tightening and his pleasure growing. He curses out loud as he sees you putting both of your fingers back into your mouth, licking the pads and sucking them into your mouth.

“You are filthy.” He tells you, making you break into a bright smile.

He leans closer to your face, and you expect him to kiss you, but one of his hands lets go of your leg roughly and comes up to hold onto your face tightly. You still smile as his fingers dig into your cheeks and he kisses you. You moan loudly into his mouth, and Rafe roughens the kiss all over again.

Your tongues move against one another, and you can feel the taste of your cums in his mouth too. No matter how rough he is with you, Rafe still feels you tighten around him and moan louder against his mouth. There isn’t one thing that he does that you do not like.

He pulls away as he thrusts in a little deeper again and watches as your face contorts with pleasure. He groans too as he watches you and feels you. You keep your eyes on Rafe and he can feel how close you are yet again. He doesn’t move to touch your clit as he’s afraid it will cause any discomfort, but he does keep his thrusts steady.

In no time, you are moaning under him again and sensing your entire body in the midst of an explosion, and you’re soon followed by Rafe too. He groans as he feels his entire body tense up insanely, and his cum finally begins to fill you again. He continues to move his hips against yours, and the two of you are an exhausted mess.

Rafe lets go of your other leg, and one of his forearms comes to rest just beside your head. He has let go of your face in the middle of his orgasm, and he rests his head just beside yours on the bed. It takes quite a bit for the two of you to get back some energy to open your eyes, but, once you do, you just stare at one another for a few seconds.

Your lips touch into a long peck, and you feel the exhaustion really hitting you like a truck all of a sudden. Rafe, the one with just the most energy, moves upwards and slowly, and carefully, pulls out of you. He smooths his free hand up and down your thigh as he does it, not wanting to hurt you, and soon you relax under him.

Rafe lays a kiss on your stomach as he moves back up and leaves another one on your chest. You don’t move much but do try to calm down your entire body.

Rafe leans over to the bedside table, and you turn your head to watch him, in the golden light, take a look at his phone screen.

“Time?” You simply ask.

“It’s been almost 2 hours.” He sighs, and you let out a tired exhale of a laugh.

He puts his phone back down and comes back to you. Rafe kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes at the mere feeling of his lips again. You reopen them, and you look up at him.

“You’re spending the night, right?” You ask him weakly.

“Of course.” He whispers back at you.

You do a little short smile at him, and he notices how tired you really are. Your eyes are beginning to close, and he kisses your forehead again at the sight.

“You need to go to the bathroom, pretty girl.” He reminds you.

You whine out loud with your sleepy and hazy mind, and that makes Rafe chuckle on top of you. He sits up and wraps his arms around your body. He helps you move out of bed, ignoring every single one of your sleepy whines and takes you over to the bathroom.

Rafe takes care of opening your bedroom window, when he leaves you in the bathroom, letting some fresh air circulate in the sex-infested bedroom. He grabs some of the clothes from the floor while he’s making his way back to you and throws yours into the laundry bin.

When he gets back to the bathroom, you’re holding yourself up by the counter and turning on the water. Rafe watches as your legs shake a little as you wash your face with cold water, and you catch the sight of him in the mirror.

“We need a shower.” You tell him in a whisper before turning off the water.

Rafe nods, moving over closer to you. The breeze in the room has begun to make its way to the bathroom too, and your entire body shivers at the feeling. Rafe lays a kiss on your shoulder as he stands behind you and reaches in to turn on the water of the shower.

As the water heats up, you turn around to face him, and Rafe holds onto your sides, helping you stand more comfortably. You look up at him and rest your hands on his chest, staring into his eyes in silence. Rafe pecks your lips and pulls back to look at you.

Your eyes are back, again, filled with love as you stare at him. Rafe wraps his arms around you this time, and your chests are flush against one another. You move to give him a kiss, but it’s always Rafe that closes the distance between the two of you.

His long peck slowly becomes various kisses onto your lips, and they soon begin to travel away from your lips over to your cheeks. You giggle at him, and Rafe lets a smile appear on his face as he keeps on going.

When he pulls away and looks down at you, you finally get it.

You love him.

I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH, I NEVER WANT TO STOP WRITING IT. LIKE, LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY ARE.... UGH.

I hope you guys liked it either way. Feedback is appreciated!!

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weirdkpopgirl · 3 months

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My Last | Jaemin Fic #3

Title: My Last

Genre: College AU

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, self-harm, family problems. please do not read if those topics make you uncomfortable

Word Count: ~16k

Author's Note: Here is the part two/sequel to my Renjun story (My First). I literally started writing this a few years ago and didn't finish until now. Honestly, I wanted to give up on this story because I don't like it very much. But I thought I should for those who read the first story. I still hope you guys like it ^ ^

If you haven't read the first part of this story you can read it here

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪

Kim (Y/n) thought leaving it all behind would make her happier. But the past two years showed her that running away from her problems couldn't change anything. She and her father moved to his hometown, Busan. She found herself in a different city, a different neighborhood, a different house, and a different high school, marking a fresh new start for her. Maybe she was too optimistic at the beginning.

The students at her new school quickly singled her out as the pathetic transfer girl with divorced parents. No one made an effort to talk to her. But she wasn't too fazed by it. After what had happened at her previous school, she wasn’t willing to get close to anyone again.

Time passed, and she focused on her studies as she had always done. The household was less chaotic with just her dad and herself. They were both quiet people who barely talked to each other, and she wasn't bothered much by that either.

Deciding before she graduated wasn't as stressful as it could've been. After passing the CSAT exam, a few acceptance letters rolled in. She was only able to get one scholarship from a college in Seoul, covering most of her tuition and dorm living expenses.

In the next few months, she was back to where she had started.

Things would be different this time, she told herself. Returning to her hometown didn't mean she was going to encounter anyone from her past, at least if she tried hard enough. But she was wrong.

Her mom, the woman she had hoped to never see again, reappeared in her life. She didn't seem to have changed since the last time they had seen each other. Perhaps driven by a lingering sense of guilt, she found herself compelled to check on her mother's well-being. Yet, she sometimes felt like she was reliving her childhood again. Except this time she was the parent, and her mother was the child.

Her mother's moods were unpredictable, fluctuating between highs and lows. Despite enduring numerous instances of being screamed at, (Y/n) recognized the importance of not being selfish. Ultimately, she was her mom, and (Y/n) was her only daughter. In the end, she was all her mother had.

In addition to her college commitments, she took on a part-time job to earn some money. She picked up a barista position, where she worked throughout the week. Oftentimes she left shifts with the scent of coffee clinging to her hair.

"Hey, you know that customer over there?" Her coworker pointed something out to her one day.

Hesitantly, she looked in the direction her coworker was gesturing to. A boy who looked about her age was sitting at the table near the front window, with another guy across from him. He had short, light brown hair with bangs that made him appear younger. She couldn't deny that he was attractive.

"What about him?" She asked, glancing back down at what she was doing before.

Her coworker nudged her elbow. "I think he might be interested in you. He only comes on the days you're working here."

Out of curiosity, she looked back up to see the slight surprise in his expression when she did, but it was immediately replaced with a smile.

"He's pretty good-looking too!" Her coworker gushed. "What if he asks you out?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. There was no chance she was going to let herself be charmed by a stranger who she had only seen a handful of times. Besides, she couldn't fathom that a guy would like her.

Despite how her coworker faltered at her lack of interest, she shook her head and didn't bother to look at him again.

"Yeah, like that would ever happen."

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She worked at his favorite coffee place on the weekends. But the café wasn't the only place he had seen her. She didn't seem to notice that they attended the same college. Her name was Kim (Y/n), a first-year student at Myung-guk University. They were both freshmen, so he had seen her in a few of his general education classes.

Jaemin didn't know when exactly he caught feelings. All of a sudden, he just found himself paying more attention to her. With the few chances he got to see her, he used them to take in her features. She had long, chestnut brown hair with bangs that brushed over her forehead. Her eyes were a few shades darker than her hair. She didn't wear any makeup, as the majority of her face was covered by the round, silver-rimmed glasses she wore. She always dressed so neatly, making her overall look fairly minimalistic.

Something about (Y/n) was different from what he was used to seeing. Unlike the other girls who swooned over him every time he passed by, she didn't even bat an eye. In class, she rarely spoke to anyone and always kept to herself in a reserved manner. She seemed disinterested in what everyone else was doing.

At the coffee shop, she was mostly the same. But she was kind to the customers and efficient in her work. Part of him was glad she was always so focused. She had yet to catch him admiring her from afar.

“Why don't you just ask her out already?” Jeno lightly elbowed him.

He was nice as a best friend and roommate. But he didn't know a thing when it came to romance.

Shaking his head, he took another sip of his black coffee. “Not yet, Jeno. It's too soon.”

When he turned to see her again, she was looking at him. He thought it was the first time she had properly noticed him. Trying not to stress too much, he sent her a smile. But instead of smiling back, she shook her head and walked to the back room.

However, he refused to let this one interaction discourage him. He had this gut feeling that told him she was the one for him.. It didn't matter if he had to wait. Good things came slowly, so one could treasure them more.

(Y/n) was like this puzzle, waiting to be put together by the right person. And Jaemin was confident that person was going to be him.

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Since that day, she became more aware of the attractive customer. Once she got a better look, she recognized him from somewhere.

She was pretty sure his name was Na Jaemin. She hadn't realized that they were in the same grade. As if things couldn't become any more peculiar, he was also in a few of her classes. She guessed she had been too focused on staying in her bubble to notice.

Jaemin was talked about quite a bit on campus. Of course, for all the reasons that didn't surprise her. He was charming, the girls couldn't seem to stop whispering about him, and all the guys wanted to be his friend. Other than that, she didn't know much about him, nor did she have the desire to.

From her impression, he was probably just one of those guys who dated too many girls and had a big ego. Maybe she was judging too quickly. Regardless, she decided she wanted nothing to do with Jaemin. He could stare at her all he wanted to at work. But he wasn't going to get a reaction from her. At least, that was what she had told herself.

"One iced americano!"

Her head was down in an attempt to avoid eye contact when she called his order. She heard the chair being pushed back and his footsteps coming closer to the counter.

"Ah, perfect every time," He sighed after taking a sip. His voice was a lot deeper than she had expected. Gesturing the drink to her, he smiled. "Thank you!"

Barely looking at him, she nodded and was relieved when he didn't say anything else. She thought that would be the end of what was barely a conversation. But then in the following week, he came again at his usual time, which was before noon. Rather than taking his drink and thanking her as usual, he stuck around a little longer.

"You're Kim (Y/n), right? I've seen you a few times at university."

Trying to get out of the conversation as soon as possible, she looked up at him and nodded. "Was there something else you needed?"

"Well, not exactly," He gave her that same smile from the last time. "I just wanted to ask if you're perhaps free after you get off of work?"

"Sorry, I have something to do today," She lied, immediately turning him down.

"Oh," His tone deflated. "That's fine, I understand. Another day, maybe?"

She sighed. Why was this guy so persistent?

"Excuse me, but you are a stranger to me, and I think we should keep it that way."

"So…you're saying no?"

"No," She said without thinking and quickly facepalmed. "I mean yes!"

Jaemin laughed, "I see you're a bit confused. I'll just ask next time."

"Wait, don't-" She started to say. But to her dismay, he had already left with his coffee.

She tried not to panic over what happened. Maybe he'd forget about it all when he came by again. But who was she kidding; he probably wouldn't.

A few days later, she was quickly packing up to leave class. Jaemin was there, which made her more nervous than anything. Luckily, he didn't seem to pay any attention to her during the lecture.

But when she went to grab her phone, she noticed a small blue sticky note that wasn't there before.

It would be nice to get to know each other, right? (˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)

She was glad he wasn't there to see her cheeks turn pink when she saw his phone number attached. Why was he doing this? Was he targeting her as his next girl to play with?

She didn't know, and she didn't want to know the answer. Crumpling the paper in her hand, she threw it into her bag and spent the rest of the day trying to shove what happened out of her head.

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Even though she had refused him once already, Jaemin wasn't going to give up. He knew that pursuing (Y/n) wouldn't be easy, but the challenging aspect made things fun. She could put up as many obstacles as she wanted, and he was fully prepared to jump over one after the other.

It was so cute to see her get flustered when he talked to her. She may not think much of him right now, which further motivated him to prove to her that he had good intentions.

Jaemin saw her in the cafeteria one day, sitting alone at the table near the big windows. This was the perfect opportunity, he thought to himself. Without any hesitation, he quickly ordered his lunch and went to stand by the seat across from her.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?"

(Y/n) looked at him as if he was some newly discovered alien. Her eyes scattered around the other people around them who gave looks and made unnecessary whispers. He was used to ignoring them as much as possible.

Don't get him wrong, he thought it was nice that so many people at college admired him, especially since he was just a freshman. But he couldn't help but get slightly annoyed when people tried to hang out with him and acted all fake.

Before she could answer, Jaemin already set his lunch tray on the table. Once he sat down, he smiled at her.

"You and I must think alike," he gestured to their choices of meals for today, which was fish cake soup with udon noodles.

Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks. "Jaemin, why do you keep doing this to me?"

"What do you mean?" He asked and picked up his own utensils to eat.

"I'm not sure what your intentions are," she cleared her voice, "But I can assure you won't get far with a nobody like me."

He would've thought she was joking if it weren't for the bitterness in her tone.

"A nobody? Is that what you see yourself as?"

She nearly choked on her food when he asked her that. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, she wasn't forced to answer when someone interrupted.

“Jaemin, finally I found you!” It was a boy with dark-brown hair and facial features that reminded her of a puppy.

Now that she thought about it, she had seen him on a few of Jaemin's visits to the cafe. She didn't know that he attended this college too.

The guy came over to sit in the empty seat beside Jaemin. So much for having a quiet lunch. The boy looked at her with a sense of familiarity.

"Oh! You're the girl from the coffee shop, right?"

Suddenly forgetting how to speak, she merely nodded. The friendliness in his eyes didn't disappear. "I'm Lee Jeno, an architecture major. I'm also Jaemin’s friend."

"What are you doing here?" Jaemin asked.

"I just got out of a class and wanted to find you. But it seems you're busy."

The light-haired boy turned back to her with an adoring smile. "Well, I’m having lunch with (Y/n). Jeno, isn't it funny that we got the same meal? We already have so much in common!"

Jeno smiled apologetically, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Ah, Jaeminie is a bit weird. Please understand, (Y/n)."

A smile crept onto her lips when his own friend said this. She wondered if Jaemin was going to retort with something back, but his attention was on her.

"Oh, she smiled!"

Instinctively, she clamped her hand over her mouth. "N-no, I didn't."

"Ah, cute. Isn't she cute, Jeno?"

His comments didn't do anything to help the heat that had risen to her cheeks. Jeno shook his head at Jaemin and pushed his chair back.

"Well, I should go to my next class. I'll see you at home later."

He waved to her after getting up from the chair. "It was nice meeting you, (Y/n)!"

She waved back, as it was the polite thing to do. Her panic mode was restored now that his friend was gone. Jaemin looked at her with a concerned expression.

"Are you feeling alright? You've barely touched your food."

She glanced down at her lunch tray. The steaming bowl of noodles was staring up at her. Eating had disappeared from her brain momentarily after Jaemin arrived.

"I'm fine. Just not as hungry as I thought I was," she muttered, placing her utensils down on the table.

That didn't seem to convince Jaemin, but he didn't say anything about it. He folded his arms and leaned forward. "Right, what were we talking about before?"

Dang it. She was hoping he had forgotten their previous conversation, though the chances were unlikely.

"I understand why you might be skeptical about me," his voice deepened. She wondered if he always did that when he wanted to be serious. "But I'm going to do what it takes to prove you otherwise, (Y/n). Just watch!"

No one had approached her the way Jaemin was. It didn't make her any less suspicious of him. Whatever he was going to do or planning to do, she couldn't let him get to her. Over the past two years, she had become more strong-minded. She wasn't going to let anyone easily in again. Following that, Jaemin could try to get through to her. But he would fail.

Because she wasn't going to let it happen.

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Jeno and he had been gaming late into the evening. Close to eight, Jaemin decided to take a stroll to the cafe where (Y/n) worked, thinking of grabbing some coffee. The quiet streets under the night sky provided a calm atmosphere.

Upon arriving at the cafe, he spotted her through the window, wearing her cafe uniform. A small smile formed on his lips, but it quickly faded as he heard a commotion inside. The sound of an escalating argument caught his attention.

Inside, a man stood at the counter where (Y/n) was working. There was a tense exchange, and the man seemed insistent on something. Jeno's protective instincts kicked in as he noticed (Y/n) trying to reject his advances.

"I told you, I'm not interested," she said firmly, attempting to maintain her composure.

"Come on, why not give me a chance?" the man persisted, a hint of aggression in his tone.

She bit her lip in frustration, but tried to maintain her professionalism. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking for anything right now."

The man's demeanor turned hostile, and he reached out to grab her hand. Jaemin, sensing trouble, swiftly stepped in.

"She said she's not interested. Respect that," he stated firmly, casting a disapproving glance at the persistent man.

Startled, the man recoiled, shooting a defiant look at Jaemin. Ignoring the confrontation, Jaemin focused on (Y/n), offering her a reassuring smile. Bewilderment clouded her expression.

"Yah, who do you think you are to involve yourself?" The man scoffed.

"I don’t want any trouble," he said in a low tone. "But you should back off, if she said no already."

The guy scowled, and before he could react properly, he punched him. "I swear, kids these days think they're all that."

Lifting his hand to where he hit him, he was grabbed by the collar of his hoodie. As much as he loathed the guy, he didn't want to fight back because he was older. Thankfully, (Y/n) had come in between them before he could hit him again.

"Stop or I'll call the police!" She warned, holding up a phone in her hand. "You'll be charged for harassment and assault."

In response, he snarled but let go of him. At least he wasn't an idiot to see she was serious.

He pointed at her and him as he made his way to leave. "Consider both of you lucky today."

They both watched as he left grumbling. He was expecting to hear a sigh of relief. But instead, she didn't appear to look any less frightened.

"Oh no, you're bleeding." Her eyes widened with apprehension. She reached her hand but dropped it after a brief hesitation. She headed back behind the cash register.

"Wait outside. Let me find the first-aid kit."

Jaemin couldn’t suppress the smile that crept on his face. But he thought it was best to listen this time.

The anxiousness in her eyes didn't disappear as she sat in the chair across from him. She still somehow managed to keep her hand steady as she tended to where he was injured. Other than his mother, no girl had ever looked so concerned for him. He tried to maintain some seriousness, rather than thinking about how cute (Y/n) was.

Once she cleaned the blood off, she raised a cotton swab dipped in ointment to his lips. He hesitated, not because he didn't trust her. He guessed he was a little nervous for some reason. But before she could take her hand away, he leaned forward. She winced with him as she dabbed the medicine on his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry,” she apologized.

"It doesn't hurt that much," he said.

But she shook her head. "Not just that. You got hurt because of me."

"Anyone would've done the same if they were in my place."

"I'm not so sure about that," she disagreed, putting the cotton swab down. "But, thank you."

This was a different side of (Y/n) that he was seeing. But it wasn't anything that he hadn't expected. Even though she pretended not to, she secretly cared.

"Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me now?" he half-joked, pointing to his busted lip. "To pay me back for this?"

“What—No!” He had to admit, seeing the change in her expression was quite amusing.

She pointed toward the free coffee she made him. “Is this not enough?”

He sighed and tilted his head slightly. “Can we be friends at least?”

She didn't say anything but looked like she wasn't going to fight him on this.

“I'll take your silence as a yes.” His phone then buzzed in his pocket.

Oh, shi— he forgot about Jeno. "Ugh, I have to go back home." He stood up, grabbing the cup of coffee she made him.

But he didn't forget to wave at his friend. "See you tomorrow, (Y/n)!"

Smiling to himself, he pretended not to see the startled expression when he called her informally. She then smiled and shook her head again.

One point scored for Na Jaemin!

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That evening back in her dorm, (Y/n)’s head dropped to the desk in frustration. She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened the other night.

She didn’t want Jaemin to see her as easy now. Then again, he did save her from that customer. She wanted to say he shouldn’t have stepped in. But truthfully, she didn’t know how worse the situation would have gotten if he didn’t come in when he did. She had been so afraid of the situation that her whole body was shaking when she threatened to call the police. But she wished she had acted faster before he got hit.

She hadn’t realized how serious Jaemin was about them now being “friends” until the next time she saw him. He’d wave to her when he saw her come into class and continued to eat lunch with her if she was in the cafeteria. He didn’t stop coming to the coffee shop, and started doing his homework there.

In the beginning, she was quite reluctant. Her social awkwardness had gotten worse, and she wasn’t sure how long he would last being around someone like her. What she didn’t expect was Jaemin not being great at keeping conversations either. While he did start most of them, it seemed that sometimes he’d lose his thoughts and pause. That was when the silence filled in the gap he left.

But he kept persisting, and she had a feeling Jaemin wouldn’t get off her case anytime soon. Her heart was screaming at her, because it was clear that he was putting more effort into their “friendship” than she was. On the other hand, she barely said anything.

Due to her guilty conscience, she eventually stopped using one-word answers when he asked her something. On occasion, she would ask a question back. Slowly, she started to relax when she was around him. But those casual conversations were all Jaemin would get from her. There was an invisible line she had drawn between them, that she had to make sure he wouldn’t cross.

She started to like the days when he came to the café the most. He’d come in and instantly look for her behind the counter. She didn’t understand how someone could consistently be enthusiastic when they came to the same place nearly every day.

He ordered the same thing every time. So much so that it was practically ingrained in her memory. It was always a venti iced-americano, with no water but only ice. In addition, she’d add four extra shots of espresso. She refrained from questioning his order. But she wasn’t sure how anyone could drink so much coffee. However, that did explain how he had so much energy all the time.

Jaemin would come in the morning to purchase his daily drink. Strangely enough, he’d sometimes come back in the evenings when things were slow. He said it was because he thought she might be lonely. Oftentimes, he’d wait for her shift to be over and walk her home. She had resisted at first, but Jaemin had good persuasion skills.

On one of their walks, Jaemin casually asked a question that nearly made her freeze in place.

“Have you ever dated anyone?” His tone was casual. But she could tell he wasn’t trying to flirt with her.

“No,” she replied. In hopes of subtly changing the subject of this conversation, she turned the question to him. “Have you?”

He hesitated briefly before nodding, “Once, a few years ago.”

For some reason, she had expected him to have been in many relationships. With a face like his, she wouldn’t be surprised. She guessed she had judged him too harshly.

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

She wasn’t sure what brought her to ask. She felt like a similar memory was replaying in the back of her head.

“I was in high school, and I had a crush on this girl in my class,” He started to explain. “It was easy at first. One day I confessed to her and we started dating.”

Jaemin made it all sound so easy. But when the frown on his face didn’t leave, she suspected things were more complicated. She didn’t say anything and let him continue.

“I remember trying really hard to make her happy. She always wanted me to buy her stuff and hung out with a lot of guys. Eventually, I started to feel like she was just using me. So I broke up with her.”

A short silence followed his last sentence. Even though she was afraid the conversation would go in the same direction it did with…

She still asked, “How do you feel now? Do you still think about her?”

“Honestly, I haven’t thought about her once until you asked.”

“Why?” Her eyebrows raised.

He chuckled, “Because I have no regrets. No one should feel insecure in a relationship. That’s why I chose to end things.”

She didn’t expect him to say that. A part of her didn’t want to believe him. But he didn’t appear to be lying. She wasn’t fazed when he told her all this. However, on that day, she felt slightly more daring. She thought it was only fair that she shared a little bit.

“There was a boy I had feelings for back in high school. He was my first love, I guess,” she said, the words escaping slowly. “I really liked him. But it…didn’t work out.”

She didn’t want to get into the details of her pathetic story. Even though two years passed, she could recall his exact words and how he delivered them. They still stung. Just thinking about it again nearly caused her to forget Jaemin was next to her.

“First loves are usually like that,” he expressed sympathy. “I’m sorry that happened.”

You forced a smile, swiftling pushing aside the resurfaced emotions. “It’s not a big deal. I…I’m sorry too—about your past girlfriend.”

“It happened so long ago, and I was just a dumb teenager,” Jaemin admitted, lowering his head.

A few seconds of silence passed between them. In an attempt to dispel the awkward atmosphere, she gently nudged him. “I guess we both have bad luck with love, huh?”

She wished his next works didn’t make her heart flutter.

“I have a feeling that our luck is changing. For both of us.”

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It was difficult for Jaemin to suppress a small sense of satisfaction as she waved to him before entering her apartment building. Following today's events, it felt like (Y/n) had taken a step closer to him—some might argue it was barely a foot. But for Jaemin, that was more than enough.

Upon returning to his home, the lights were on in the empty living room, indicating that Jeno had left them on for him. After slipping off his shoes, Jaemin sought out his roommate in the bedroom, where he found him engrossed in playing a video game on his computer.

Besides Jeno, Jaemin didn't have many friends, but he knew Jeno was someone who would always have his back. It was Jeno who had suggested they move into an apartment before college, considering they haven’t been apart since middle school. Jaemin never worried about their friendship drifting apart. But his assurance grew when they discovered they got accepted into the same college.

“Hey, you’re back?” Jeno took off his headphones as Jaemin entered.

Nodding, Jaemin flopped onto his friend’s bed. A foolish grin spread across his face as he rested his head on the pillow.

“You seem happy,” Jeno remarked, throwing his head back. “Did you meet with (Y/n) again?”

Simply the mention of her name alone brightened Jaemin's mood. "Jeno, do you know what it feels like to be in love?"

"In love? I thought you just liked her," Jeno leaned forward, raising his water bottle to his lips. Jaemin pressed his hand to his chest and sighed.

"I do. But there's this different level of liking when it comes to her. My heart can't stop beating!"

Jeno nearly choked on his water. "Don't tell me you've said all of that to her."

"Of course not," Jaemin said, defensively. "Do you think I'm that much of an idiot?"

"Just wanted to make sure," Jeno shrugged.

Feeling energized, Jaemin pulled out his phone to text her. However, he was pleasantly surprised to find an unread message from her. Kicking his feet up in the air, he beamed and showed Jeno what she sent.

"You see this, Jeno? She finally texted me first!"

"I guess that's some improvement." Jeno's reaction was lackluster, but Jaemin pretended to ignore it.

Placing a hand on his chest, Jaemin sighed, "Oh (Y/n), why are you doing this to me?"

Jeno shook his head and turned his chair back around to the computer. "Yeah. You're in love with her, that's for sure."

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Coming out of his photography class the next day, Jaemin spotted (Y/n) near one of the windows in the hall. Realizing she was on the phone, he decided to wait until she was done.

"I know. You don't need to worry, Halmeoni," she spoke lightly. "I'll pick up her medication after class."

That was the end of the conversation he overheard before she dropped her hand holding the phone, squeezing it tightly. While he knew her personal matters were none of his business, he couldn't help but worry about her. From the brief glimpse he had, she seemed unhappy.

After waiting for about five minutes, he approached her. "(Y/n), I almost didn't see you there!"

She turned to him, the frustration replaced by a small smile. Whether she was genuinely pleased to see him or merely pretending to be fine was uncertain.

"Oh, hi Jaemin. Did you just come out of class?" she asked.

He nodded. "What about you?"

She glanced back at her phone to check the time. "My morning class is over, but I have one more in an hour."

"Ah, I see. Do you want to get lunch with me then?" he proposed, gesturing towards the cafeteria.

"It's okay. I'm not that hungry," she mumbled, absently adjusting the strap on her bag.

Crossing his arms, he leaned down to meet her at eye level. "You're lying. I know you don't eat breakfast, so you have to be hungry!"

"Jaemin—" she blushed and couldn't finish her sentence.

"It'll be my treat since you helped me with my photography assignment last week," he added before she could fully deny him.

This time, he didn't wait for her answer and took her hand to lead them out of the hallway. "Jaemin, people are going to see us and start assuming things!" she stammered.

Rolling his eyes, he continued to walk with her. "If you're worried, we can go out then."

She didn't make any more attempts to stop him. When he looked at her, his heart softened. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but for now, he focused on taking care of her physical health. From the few months they'd known each other, he quickly learned that (Y/n) was someone who neglected herself. Though he might have lectured her once when she said she didn't want to be a burden, he could tell she appreciated his efforts and stopped fighting back.

Jaemin’s goal shifted. He realized that making Kim (Y/n) happy was more of a priority than pursuing her.

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Her phone was flung recklessly onto the bed at the peak of her outrage. The barrage of text messages from her mom made her feel as though someone was drilling a screw in her head. With shaking fists, she glanced over to her desk, where the top drawer held a razor blade in one of the journals. The urge was tempting, yet she resisted, not wanting to give herself another reason to hate on this particular day.

Exhaling, she sat at the edge of the bed, letting her hands grip the frame. Thoughts of whether moving back to Seoul had been a mistake haunted her. But Busan hadn't been any better for her either. Why did she keep contradicting herself like this?

After a few minutes of drowning in her bothersome thoughts, her phone buzzed again. She groaned and reached to grab the device, sitting up straighter when she recognized the caller ID wasn’t her mother.

“Hello?” she answered the phone. Strangely, hearing his voice allowed some of her torment to disappear.

“Did you get home safely?”

She nodded, momentarily forgetting that they were on a voice call. “I did. You?”

“Yeah, Jeno and I went back together.”

“Oh, I see. Is that all you called me for?”

“Why? Am I not allowed to make sure my friend is safe and sound at her dorm?”

“If that’s all, I’m going to hang up now. I have to finish my homework,” she laughed.

Jaeemin sighed, “Alright. Make sure to get some rest before it’s too late.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dream of me when you sleep!” He sang.

She blushed and quickly tapped the “end call” button. With a bit of effort, she forced herself to go to her desk and open her laptop. She wasn't lying earlier, there was a research project she had to work on.

How could he say those things so casually? It was almost as if they were dating—No, she had to stop thinking like that. She had come to learn that Jaemin just had a flirty personality. But it was hard for her to fathom how someone could be like that so effortlessly. Certainly, she didn’t possess the boldness or courage he did.

Other than that, she was surprised to discover how much Jaemin and she had in common. She thought the only reason he acted energetically when they were out was because of all the coffee he drank. But, other than that, he was a pretty mellow guy.

Regardless, Jaemin was charismatic and kind to everyone. Yet, she felt like he put up his lively facade for the public. When it was just the two of them, Jaemin was a lot calmer. Sometimes they'd walk to one of their homes in silence, the only sound being music played from their earbuds.

Unintentionally, Na Jaemin had become the person to distract her from reality. It felt like Renjun all over again. That was why she had to consistently remind herself not to get too close to the boy. She couldn’t let things get that far.

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On a Sunday after work, she returned to the apartment. Whenever she was at home, her mom mostly stayed in her bedroom, often on her computer or in bed. Before she moved back to the city, her mom ate a lot of delivery food. She tried cooking meals for her, but they always remained untouched in the refrigerator.

Regardless, she tried not to give up. After putting away her things, she walked down the hall and cautiously opened the door to her mom’s room. None of the lights were on.

“Eomma, I brought you some seolleongtang from the restaurant you like,” (Y/n) said hesitantly. Most of the blankets covered her body, but she could make out her messy black hair.

When she didn’t respond, she sighed and took a step closer to the door. She didn’t intend to stay long anyway. “I left the soup on your kitchen counter for you. You should eat before it gets cold.”

“Stop pretending to care,” her mom mumbled into her pillow. “You don’t love me.”

That sentence tugged at her heart. Would she be doing all this if she didn’t love her?

Her fingernails started to dig into the skin of her palms. “Eomma, you know that’s not true.”

“You can’t even say it!” her mom cried out. “You’ve always been so cold to me. You must want your mother to die.”

Clenching her fists, she retorted without thinking. “Of course I still love you!”

Instantly, her eyes enlarged at the sudden volume increase in her voice. She almost never raised her voice at anyone, especially her parents. But her mom had pushed too many buttons that day. She took a step back before she could make anything worse.

“I never stopped,” she glowered at her mom, who refused to look at her.

In the next second, she turned to leave again. Her feet didn’t stop because she knew her mom wouldn’t go after her. It had started to rain by the time she got outside. Yet she still walked around getting drenched like a crazy person. The tears streaming down her face mixed with the rain drops.

A heavy sigh escaped her. At least the clouds didn’t have to hide their misery.

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By the time Jaemin arrived at the classroom, the lecture was just about to start. Slightly disappointed, he made his way to sit in the row of desks behind (Y/n). His lips formed a pout because now he had to wait until after class to talk to her.

He never paid much attention to what the teacher was saying when (Y/n) was there. Occasionally, he’d get scolded by her for doing so. Yet she’d still offer to share her notes with him. When she did this the first time, Jaemin realized (Y/n) only acted cold so people wouldn’t approach her. She might be able to fool everyone else, but Jaemin knew she was a warm-hearted person.

During these times, (Y/n) usually pretended not to notice his eyes that naturally drifted her way throughout the class. But something seemed different about her today. The left hand she used to write was most often seen quickly scribbling down key points from the lesson. Her wrist was barely moving, and her head was kept down.

Once class ended, Jaemin tapped the girl on her shoulder. Jolting up, she turned around to face him.

“Oh, is class over already?”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “Uh, you look really pale.”

“What?” she asked, a little nasally.

His level of worry quickly increased when he reached over to feel her forehead. “You have a fever too. Why did you come if you’re sick?”

She weakly pushed his hand away and slurred her words, saying something about not wanting to miss class.

He exhaled and grabbed her hand. “Okay. We need to get you out of here.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t put up much of an argument. I guess she didn’t have any energy to do so. She could barely keep her head up when they got on the bus. Wanting her to be more comfortable, Jaemin guided her head to rest on his shoulder.

Honestly, he had never seen (Y/n) so out of it. He wondered what she did to get so sick like this. Glancing back down at her sleeping figure, he felt a bunch of different emotions.

“What are you doing to me, Kim (Y/n)?” he whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him.

════════

Slowly, (Y/n) turned her head and let her eyelids flutter open on their own. Her reaction was late, but she was slightly alarmed when she found herself in an unfamiliar place. Her hands pressed down into a dark blue bedspread.

She glanced around, finding herself in a room with a large desk near the door that had a white computer. Where was she?

She blinked a few times, trying to recall what happened and how she got here. Just as she vaguely remembered Jaemin taking her out of class, the door creaked open. She sat up and instantly regretted it. The headache she had from this morning was still present.

“Oh, hi (Y/n).” Jeno came into the room. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Jeno? Why am I…”

The boy allowed himself to fully come into the room. “Jaemin brought you here after your class. You were out for about an hour.”

“Oh gosh. I didn’t mean to intrude like this.” This is what she got for walking home in the rain. Where was her sense?

Jeno waved his hand, brushing off her words. “Not at all. Jaemin was worried when he noticed you had a fever.”

“He was? Where is he?”

“He’s been in the kitchen. Should be coming back soon though.”

Just as he said that, her eyes darted to the door that reopened.

“Oh, you’re awake!” The boy with light brown hair exclaimed.

He was carrying a small wooden tray in his hands. With a tight-lipped smile, Jeno put a hand on his shoulder before passing him. Jaemin didn’t say anything, only giving an odd look to his friend who left the room.

However, the slightly confused expression instantly changed to a brighter one when he turned to her. Carefully, he walked over with the tray and sat beside her feet.

“Samgyetang,” He said, picking up the spoon next to the steaming blue bowl. “Eating will make you feel better.”

“Did you make it?” She asked, leaning forward to see the bowl.

He nodded and filled the spoon with some of the broth. “I’m going to feed you because I know you won’t eat it yourself.”

How did he know she’d do that? Either way, she didn’t have any energy to protest. Hesitantly, she accepted the spoonful of food. She was surprised, to say the least.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Is it good?” He asked.

She nodded in response. Jaemin lowered his head as he dipped the spoon in the bowl again. “My mom taught me.”

“Oh,” She said, “I can feed myself, Jaemin.”

After some hesitation, he relented and handed her the spoon. “I’m going to stay and make sure you finish at least half of that soup.”

“Yes, mom,” She conceded. Jaemin chuckled as she bit into a piece of chicken.

“Thank you for going out of your way to—do all this,” She said later. He put the bowl and tray aside on his desk.

“How is your headache?”

“Not as bad. Are you going to scold me again?”

“No. But do you mind me asking how you got sick?” A familiar sense of fear came her way.

“I just got caught in the rain walking home the other day.”

Okay, she wasn’t completely lying. But she wasn’t telling the full truth either. Thankfully, Jaemin seemed to believe her.

“I see. You should get some more rest,” he said.

She gave him a quizzical look. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

“That’s right!”

“But this is your bed,” She frowned.

The boy shrugged, “I can just crash in Jeno’s room.”

He motioned for her to lay back down. Reluctantly, she listened to him. Not that she’d admit out loud that she wanted to. The pain eased slightly when her head hit the pillow.

“Better?”

“Better.”

He didn’t say anything more after that. They sort of just remained in their positions silently. She pretended to not notice Jaemin staring at her. Or how his fingertips were tracing lightly over her bangs that were damp with sweat.

She tried to ignore the fluttery emotions that swirled around her heart. In the past when she got sick, she just dealt with it alone. She didn’t want to be more of a burden to the people around her.

This was certainly different from the time when Renjun got sick and couldn’t come to school. Back then, the roles were reversed, and she was doing the things Jaemin had done for her.

Her head was hurting, but she still had most of her sanity. Unlike the last time, she would make sure her memories didn’t repeat. She should’ve been more ashamed that she let this happen in the first place.

But with Jaemin, it felt nice, him taking care of her. Yet another side of him that she hadn’t expected.

Her perspective on Jaemin kept shifting. And she wasn’t sure what she thought about it.

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As summer came to an end, fall gradually took its place. Which meant that the college autumn festival was approaching. Numerous clubs and activities had been diligently preparing for the event over the past few weeks. While most of Jaemin's classmates expected him to attend, he felt a bit reluctant due to the unnecessary attention and the prospect of encountering girls eager to approach him.

Yet, the idea of going to the festival became much more appealing if (Y/n) was also planning to attend. Day by day, Jaemin found himself falling a bit more for her. A few months back, he had taken care of her when she had a headache, a simple act of kindness that he would have extended to any friend.

A couple of days later, when he went to get his daily coffee, (Y/n) surprised him with free macarons, expressing her gratitude for his care. It was a small but meaningful gesture, signaling that (Y/n) was gradually warming up to him.

On the day of the festival, Jaemin decided to meet (Y/n) after their last classes and suggested going together. Spotting her waiting near the main entrance, he waved, and she smiled shyly in response. Energized by the sight of her, he skipped over.

“(Y/n)—” he began before being interrupted by a girl approaching them. Glancing at the newcomer, Jaemin recognized her as a classmate from his photography class.

“Jaemin? I’m in your photography class.”

“Ah, hello,” he politely bowed his head. “Is there something you need?”

The girl beamed at him, twirling a lock of her hair. “I just wanted to see if you’re going to the college festival tonight. Would you like to go with me?”

“I’m sorry I—” Jaemin started to decline, but his eyes shifted to (Y/n) standing awkwardly beside him.

He then put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m going with her,” he clarified, pretending to not notice how (Y/n)’s eyes widened in surprise.

The girl's expression faltered, embarrassed by the rejection, but she managed to put on a smile. “Oh…I see. Well, please come find me if you want better company!”

As the girl left, Jaemin kicked the ground in frustration. “Did she not see that you were right next to me?” he quipped, tilting his head to the left.

(Y/n) looked puzzled. “Why did you turn her down? She was pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” Jaemin replied without hesitation. He smirked when he saw her cheeks turn pink.

Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he suggested, “Let’s go to the festival.”

(Y/n) hesitated before sighing. “I guess we have to now, since you told that girl we were.”

“Yeah. But I was going to ask you anyway,” he shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

She opened her mouth to say something and closed it. Jaemin chuckled at her silent agreement. They conversed on the way to the festival, and upon arrival, marveled at the transformed campus with lanterns, various booths, music, and enticing smells of food and alcohol.

“What do you want to do first?” Jaemin nudged (Y/n).

They spent most of their time walking around, pointing out interesting things, and occasionally participating in mini-games. Seated at a table under one of the food tents, they ate some tteokbokki. Despite disliking alcohol, they decided to share a bottle.

Later in the night, they found a spot on the grass to watch a fireworks show. Jaemin asked (Y/n) if she had done something like this before.

She lightly brushed her hand over the green blades. “There was one time when my parents took me to see fireworks on New Year's Eve. I must’ve been eight or nine.”

The dark sky allowed Jaemin to see a smile on her lips, yet a hint of sadness lingered in her eyes. Before he could inquire further, the show began, capturing their attention. The bursts of bright colors were mesmerizing up close.

Expressing a bit of regret, Jaemin remarked, “I wish I had brought my camera.”

(Y/n) looked over at him and smiled. Anticipating his wish, she unzipped her bag, revealing a small, light blue polaroid camera.

“I figured you were going to ask me to come here with you,” she explained, handing him the camera.

Grinning, Jaemin said, “Yeokshi, Kim (Y/n).”

Pointing out the best fireworks, (Y/n) and Jaemin managed to capture a few with the camera. Towards the end, Jaemin suggested taking some pictures together, and to his surprise, (Y/n) agreed to one photo. Excitedly, he flipped the camera around to snap a photo of them.

“Smile!”

Posing together, they managed to fit in the small frame, but Jaemin couldn't help but notice how close they had gotten. Subconsciously, his eyes flickered to her lips, and feeling daring, he leaned a bit more forward to see her reaction.

She was blushing profusely now. His eyes searched hers, silently contemplating if he should just make a move. He pondered on what to say, or if words were even necessary at the moment. Jaemin’s heart was thumping rapidly against his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if (Y/n)’s was the same.

Being in such close proximity allowed her to appreciate his handsome features. The mixture of his breath with hers stirred butterflies in her stomach, spiraling in circles. Suddenly, they dispersed, and the nonsensical thoughts in her mind ceased immediately.

Fully aware of the situation, she pulled back, her face and entire body ablaze. "It’s late. I should go," she lied, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

Avoiding eye contact, she hastily rose to her feet and speed-walked out of the festival, pretending not to hear him call after her. (Y/n) cursed to herself, "What have I gotten myself into?"

════════

(Y/n) could barely concentrate in math class the next morning. The lack of sleep didn’t help. The events of the previous night replayed incessantly in her mind, driving her to the brink of insanity. Na Jaemin had come close to kissing her, and she almost wished he had. The setting had been perfect with fireworks, a romantic atmosphere, and their proximity. Yet, she had ruined the moment out of fear.

Last night confirmed that she developed feelings for him. The last thing she wanted. She knew from the beginning that being friends with Jaemin was dangerous. Yet, she still allowed herself to be drawn in.

Only when the others started leaving the classroom did she realize that the class was over. As she packed her things, a girl approached her – the one with long black hair, flawless makeup, and impeccable clothes from Jaemin’s photography class. She was the one who had asked him out and got turned down.

“You’re the girl who was with Na Jaemin yesterday, right?” she asked.

Taking a moment, (Y/n) replied, "Maybe."

Despite the smile she held, (Y/n) could tell the girl didn’t like her. Her lips twitched in slight annoyance as she continued the conversation.

"We’re not together, if that’s what you wanted to ask next," (Y/n) asserted, swinging her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave.

The girl's expression changed, and she casually remarked, "Ah, that’s good to know. I was beginning to question Na Jaemin’s taste in girls."

"Excuse me?" (Y/n) stopped and turned back towards her.

The girl spoke nonchalantly, "No matter how I look at it, I don’t think Jaemin would date someone like you. He’s smart, funny, and handsome. He comes from a nice family too. The girl he dates should live up to certain standards, right?"

(Y/n)’s hand tightened around the strap of her bag, and the girl took a step closer, scanning her from head to toe.

"You know, someone who is pretty, rich, and confident. I’d say it would be a loss for him to date a girl anything other than that."

Forced to smile, (Y/n) made a poor attempt to conceal the impact of those words. Mumbling, she said, "I know," and walked away, steering clear of a larger confrontation.

A mix of humiliation and annoyance consumed her. The girl's intentions were clear – to play with her head. Yet, she couldn't deny that the words had struck a nerve. Everything she lacked seemed to be a reason why Jaemin and she couldn't happen. Her feelings were rendered insignificant, knowing he was seemingly out of her league.

Her thoughts then veered back to Renjun. Despite the time that had passed, a part of her wasn’t entirely over him. The lessons from high school echoed in her mind – never allowing herself to get close to anyone again.

In the end, the problem always seemed to be her.

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Seated in the back row of the classroom, he slumped in his chair, grappling with the silence from (Y/n) since the other night. The texts he had sent her remained unread, flooding his mind with various thoughts.

Questions plagued him – was she angry? Did she resent him? Had he acted too hastily?

Admitting to himself that he might have been too impulsive, he chastised his own foolishness. Despite that realization, he couldn't help it at that moment; his feelings for her were overpowering. The looming possibility that she never wanted to see him again felt unbearable.

Though Jeno didn't voice his concerns, it was evident that he was worried about him. Over the past few days, anxiety had taken a toll on him, leading to skipped meals and isolation. He found himself criticizing (Y/n) for her eating habits, realizing the hypocritical nature of his actions. In some ways, she reminded him of himself – a music lover who didn't express it openly, an introvert with an outgoing facade, and someone who concealed insecurities adeptly.

Those similarities weren’t the only reason he liked her though. His affection for (Y/n) stemmed from her qualities as a listener. She patiently listened to his rants about proper skin care with attentive nods. She willingly assisted him with homework, displaying patience even when explanations needed repetition.

In a conversation with Jeno some time ago, he elaborated on the reasons for his deep admiration for (Y/n).

"You've really fallen for her, haven't you?" Jeno sighed in response to his lovesick monologue.

"And the way her eyes light up when she's excited," he continued, sounding like an enamored puppy. "Her laugh is just the cutest!"

Despite the selfish part of him, Jaemin knew he couldn’t impose his feelings on (Y/n). From how things were right now, the chances of her reciprocating his feelings was unlikely.

To be honest, Jaemin wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept that outcome.

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Having successfully avoided Jaemin for the past few days, (Y/n) found herself unable to escape this time. Her mind remained in disarray, and while uncertain about what to think, she knew facing him was inevitable.

"(Y/n), can we please talk?" Jaemin's voice reached her ears, prompting her to grimace before slowly turning around.

"What’s there to talk about?" she mumbled, reluctantly meeting his gaze.

Jaemin's eyes searched hers, seeking something. "Are we just going to act like nothing happened or—"

"It was a mistake," she cut him off, witnessing a hurt expression etch onto Jaemin's face.

"(Y/n)—" Jaemin began again, but she raised her hand to stop him.

"I know what you're going to say. But we can’t be together." She spoke in her sternest voice. "So please, forget what happened."

She concealed the trembling within her, although he took a step closer. Their sneakers nearly touched, and, for once, Jaemin wasn’t wearing the carefree smile she had grown accustomed to. Had she finally pushed him away for good?

Perhaps it was for the best. Jaemin didn't deserve to be with her who was a complete mess. She dared to look at him once more, observing the hurt in his eyes. She was the one who was causing him pain. She wondered if he would say he hated her and never wanted to see her again. But she should have known he wouldn't.

"(Y/n).” The calm tone he was using strangely made her feel worse. "Will you ever open your heart to me?"

His words carried significant weight, seeking some form of answer. However, she just stared at him, speechless.

He sighed and began to back away. "I’m sorry. But I don't think we can stay friends like this."

"Wait—Jaemin!" she called out as he disappeared from behind the bushes. "Na Jaemin!"

He was gone, and tears started to form in her eyes. A new feeling of guilt began to crawl up her throat. This pain was different from her first heartbreak, but it felt just as overwhelming.

Was this what it felt like to hurt someone?

════════

The cafe felt empty without him. A few customers made their daily orders, but it wasn't the same. Jaemin walking through the front door always brightened her day, giving her something to look forward to. Being at work now felt depressing and meaningless.

The hours passed, and there was still no Jaemin. (Y/n) tried to focus on her tasks and not dwell on what happened, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't.

By the time she finished wiping down all the tables, she was ready to officially close up the shop. Her plan was put on pause when she heard someone come in.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," she said plainly, turning around. Her eyes widened when she recognized the unexpected customer. "Jeno?"

The puppy-like boy smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd still be here."

He waited for her to finish closing up the shop, and they went to the park after. Walking along the sidewalk, following the stone circle path, (Y/n) knew Jeno wanted to talk to her about Jaemin. She thought he would be mad since they're best friends and all. If he held any resentment, he didn’t show it.

"I know it isn't really my place to say anything," Jeno finally broke the awkward silence between them. "But I've been worried about Jaemin, and you too."

Why would he be worried about her? She was the one who hurt his friend.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault," she apologized, and Jeno paused briefly before talking again.

"I don't know what happened between you two. But I think there's something you should know." They both stopped walking, and Jeno turned to face her properly.

"Jaemin sincerely cares about you, (Y/n). You can trust me when I say that he's never been so serious about someone."

His sentence was simple but struck her heart when she felt the weight of it. Jeno continued as the emotions started to kick in.

"I won’t tell you what to feel or to give him a chance. I believe all he wants is for you to be happy."

He glanced over at her, and his eyes quickly showed concern. She didn't even know she was crying until the first few tears dripped off her chin. Her lip quivered as more water spilled out of her eyes.

What Jeno said and everything else came crashing down on her like a huge ocean wave. She had forced herself to be blind to her true feelings. She liked Na Jaemin, so much more than a friend. But she had gotten so caught up in the fear of something like Renjun repeating that she didn't stop to think about his feelings. She was inconsiderate of him, who was always so sweet.

"What have I done?" she mumbled.

Jeno placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, (Y/n). Why don't you come back with me to talk to him?"

She wasn't sure if she had the right to see Jaemin after all this. It was already embarrassing enough to be crying in front of Jeno. But if she learned anything from this, she had to pull herself together and push aside her fears. For Jaemin.

After a few sniffles, she smiled weakly at Jeno. "I think I'd like that."

She knew what she had to do now.

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Regret quickly consumed Jaemin after he left that day. His intention was to make things better with (Y/n), and confront things. But for some reason, he just couldn’t stomach her rejection. Now she might not ever talk to him again.

Sitting in the living room, contemplating all that had gone wrong, Jaemin's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of button presses from the passcode on their lock. Jeno was out later than expected. Jaemin exhaled and leaned back on the couch, awaiting his friend's arrival.

What he didn’t expect was to see (Y/n) come in after Jeno.She appeared extremely nervous, and the rims of her eyes were slightly red. Had she been crying? Jaemin questioned why Jeno brought her here, giving his friend a questionable look.

Jeno simply smiled before heading to their room. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”

(Y/n) and Jaemin exchanged awkward glances. She tightened the grip on the strap of her bag.

“Jaemin, can we talk?” she asked, speaking quietly, almost as if afraid he'd get mad at her. Jaemin stood up from the couch, smiling slightly, and suggested they go out to the balcony.

The weather was pleasant that day, with the dark evening sky and light autumn breeze. Both unsure of how to start, (Y/n) and Jaemin admired the city view for a bit. Not wanting her to feel pressured, Jaemin decided to speak first.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry,” he sighed. “The other day, I shouldn't have been so cold to you.”

Quick to shake her head, (Y/n) said, "No, I should be the one apologizing."

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding to let her explain. "I never told you the full story about the last guy I liked," she began, resting her folded hands atop the steel railing. "At the time, I was in a… really dark place. And he was the first person who saw the real me."

"When I was around him, I didn't have to pretend I was okay all the time. He was the closest friend I ever had." Her eyes sparkled as she smiled sadly, a smile that quickly faded.

"But things changed after his girlfriend moved and transferred to our school. I overheard their conversation where he said that I never meant anything to him."

Listening quietly, Jaemin noted the fragility in her voice, as if she could break any second. Yet she didn't.

"After that day, I swore to myself that I’d never be vulnerable to a boy ever again. But I realized that was incredibly unfair to you,” she continued.

"You've shown me nothing but kindness and patience," she murmured. "When all I've done is push you away."

"(Y/n)—"

She let out a deep breath as she finally met his eyes. "The idea of opening my heart to someone terrifies me. But, I think I'm willing to try if it's you."

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, waiting nervously for a response. Jaemin's outward reaction was slow, but not on the inside. Her words were like a key that unlocked everything he had kept in his heart.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” he said, gently taking her hands in his. “I promise that you’re safe with me, (Y/n).”

She smiled, “I trust you, Jaemin.”

The two have never been in this close proximity before. His breath on hers made her heart race. The two locked eyes for a moment, as Jaemin slowly leaned in. But right before their lips could meet, he paused. She regarded him with a hint of confusion, wondering why he was hesitating.

"Can I kiss you?" he then asked, knowing he didn't really have to but wanting her to be sure.

His question sparked a wave of heat instantly rushed to her cheeks. However, the corner of her lips curled into a small smile as she rose on the tip of her toes, closing the remaining distance between them. Jaemin was caught slightly off guard by her sudden actions. But the sensation of her soft lips against his was enough to make him melt. He knew right away that her touch was something he wanted more of.

Feeling as if his heart could burst at any moment, Jaemin brought his hands up to tenderly cup her face. Their kiss was slow at first, allowing them to take their time and savor the moment. His lips moved in sync with hers, and her fingers gripped the hem of his hoodie as he kissed her harder. Towards the end, he was sure she could feel him smiling into the kiss.

Eventually, they broke away, breathless, lips redder and moist from the sweet kiss they had just shared. Jaemin kept one hand on her cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"(Y/n)," he said her name like a vow. "I’ve been wanting to do that for so long."

She smiled shyly before admitting, “Me too. I should’ve just let you kiss me at the festival.”

Jaemin's heart practically exploded for the umpteenth time when she fully wrapped her arms around his torso. The left side of her face rested on his chest, as she wasn't tall enough to reach his shoulder.

Of course, he gladly accepted the embrace, gently squeezing her. He didn't want to ever let go. She giggled when he pressed a kiss into her hair.

"I'm so in love with you, Kim (Y/n)."

There weren’t enough words to describe how amazing it felt to confess that out loud.

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Subconsciously, (Y/n)'s fingertips would brush over her lips after the previous night. The prior events were still fresh in her mind—her apology and confession, him kissing her. She contemplated whether everything had been a dream she hadn't woken up from.

However, (Y/n) was reassured when Jaemin greeted her with a hug the next morning. She was slightly wary of other people seeing them, but she brushed it off. Besides, she had recently learned that Jaemin gave the warmest hugs.

"Should we hold hands?" she laughed shyly when he asked. He seemed to be giddier about the change in their relationship than she was.

(Y/n) nodded to him and bravely intertwined her right hand with his left one. In return, a gloating Jaemin pressed a quick kiss against her knuckles before suggesting they head to class.

"This is day two of Na Jaemin and Kim (Y/n) as a couple," he lightly swung their arms as they walked on the school campus.

"You're already counting?" she smiled in slight amusement.

Jaemin nodded proudly. "I already marked when our 100th day will be."

"Really? I did too," she said bashfully.

Not many people knew this, but (Y/n) was secretly a romantic at heart. She used to fantasize over fun date ideas and anniversaries. So when Jaemin and she confirmed their feelings for each other, she marked their 100th day on her calendar when she got back to the dorm. She was afraid she was getting ahead of herself, so she didn't intend to tell him. But it was nice to know that Jaemin also thought about those things.

"See? I knew we were a perfect match," he tilted his head back.

The closer they got to the classroom, the more nervous (Y/n) began to feel. What would everyone say when they saw Jaemin and her come in together, holding hands?

"What's wrong?"

"You're not worried about other people seeing us?" she asked.

"They probably assumed we've been together for a while now," said Jaemin. "But either way, I don't care what they think."

Jaemin was certainly a lot braver than (Y/n) was. But she could feel his courage slowly starting to rub off on her. When he turned to look at her to hear her opinion, she gently squeezed his hand.

"Then I won't either,” she said confidently. He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before they entered the lecture hall.

Jaemin wasn’t surprised by the whispers and looks people gave them when he and (Y/n) entered the room holding hands. (Y/n) insisted that she wouldn’t care about the other people at college who talked behind their backs, but there was still a twinge of guilt in him.

She had gained all this unwanted attention before when they were just friends. Now that they were officially dating, it gave people on campus another excuse to gawk at them. They could spread all the rumors they wanted to, but this was their life, and (Y/n)’s too. Jaemin wasn’t going to let them ruin their happiness.

Thankfully, class didn’t go as slowly as Jaemin expected. Every so often, he glanced over to (Y/n) beside him, thinking about what she said the other day, about her past. He now understood why she was so cold to him in the beginning. But he was grateful that he had finally gotten her to open up.

(Y/n) tapped him on the shoulder. “Jaemin, class is over.”

“Really?” Lifting his head, Jaemin looked around to see people were indeed leaving.

“I guess you didn’t pay much attention to the professor, did you?” She sighed and crossed her arms.

“How can I, when I have you next to me?” He teased.

As expected, (Y/n) quickly lost her composure when he said that. She got flustered so easily.

“Are you always this direct in a relationship?” she blushed.

“Only for you,” Jaemin winked and held out his hand to her. “Come on, everyone has left already.”

They walked out into the hall, avoiding the occasional stares from passing students. Jaemin felt (Y/n) nudge him when they got outside.

“I don’t have work today,” she said. “Is there anything you want to do?”

Jaemin hummed, pretending to think for a second. Little did she know, he was hoping she didn’t have anything else to do today.

“We should go on a date,” he suggested.

(Y/n) stared at him as if she didn’t hear him properly. “Date? Where would we go?”

Jaemin simply smiled and told her she would just have to wait and see.

════════

They stepped inside, and the scent of candy greeted them.

“I came here with Jeno once to make cookies. I thought it would be fun to try decorating a cake,” Jaemin said.

“Cake decorating?” (Y/n)’s eyes scattered around the colorful place. Ha, he bet she thought he was going to take her to some cafe.

First off, Jaemin wanted to take her mind off things and destress a little. Considering she spent a lot of her time working with coffee and beverages, he didn’t want to take her somewhere that reminded her of that. It was their first date, and he wanted to make it special. (Y/n) being impressed by his creativity was an added bonus.

“What do you think?” he asked her, just to make sure.

She gave him a nod of approval. “It sounds fun. I just can’t guarantee our cake will turn out too pretty.”

“I’m sure we’ll do just fine,” Jaemin reassured her, gently patting her back. “Come on, let’s go find a table.”

A lady who worked at the store bought them a sponge cake covered in plain white cream. They listened carefully to her directions before they got up to get toppings to decorate their cake. There was an entire room filled with an assortment of candies, sprinkles, fruits, and icing.

“You and your love for sugar,” (Y/n) giggled when she saw Jaemin eyeing the chocolate section.

He smiled sheepishly. “You should choose things you like too.”

In the end, they settled on a few toppings that they both liked and went back to their table. Jaemin had no clue where to start. Luckily, (Y/n) seemed a lot better at cake decorating than she thought she would be. She guided his hand carefully to drizzle chocolate icing along the outer edges of the cake.

By the time they finished decorating, (Y/n) seemed pleased with how nice the cake turned out. Jaemin took a bunch of pictures with his phone, with the majority of them capturing her. He couldn’t help it when she looked so cute in his eyes.

After getting dinner, Jaemin and (Y/n) strolled hand in hand towards her dorm building. Jaemin purposely walked slower, dreading the idea of having to part from her. The gentle glow of the streetlights cast a warm ambiance around them, and the sounds of their laughter mixed with the rustle of leaves under their feet.

As they stopped in front of her dorm, he turned to her with a soft pout. “Do you really have to go?”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips at his newfound clinginess. “I have class in the morning, you know. We’ll see each other tomorrow.”

“I know…” Jaemin mumbled, playfully kicking the ground.

The smile on her lips grew, as she lightly squeezed his hand. “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun.”

“I’m glad,” he said, a subtle giddiness dancing in his heart. He couldn’t help but think of all the other things he wanted to do with her now that they were together.

Their hands remained intertwined, as the two stood in silence for a few seconds. Jaemin’s gaze turned more tender, and he leaned into place a quick kiss to her lips. “See you tomorrow, (Y/n).”

Heading inside the building, (Y/n) couldn’t help but glance back at him. The lingering smile he wore and the warmth in her eyes made her heart beat faster than usual. She wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to that feeling. One thing she was certain of, was that today marked the beginning of something beautiful.

If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up from it.

┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦

In the weeks that followed, (Y/n) slowly felt more secure in her blossoming relationship with Jaemin. Things hadn’t changed much from when they were friends. He still had lunch with her, dropped by her workplace, and walked her home. The notable change in these moments now included flirtatious banter and kisses. She learned early on that Jaemin didn’t hold back when it came to openly expressing his affection. She wasn’t used to having someone care so deeply the way he did.

One weekend, they decided to make dinner together at his apartment. Jaemin took her to the grocery store near his place so they could pick up ingredients. He guided her through the aisles, hand in hand, creating a sense of warmth within her.

“I make really good pork belly,” Jaemin mentioned, placing a pack of the frozen meat in the cart. “You’re going to love it.”

(Y/n) smiled, “We should get some kimchi to go with it.”

As they headed toward the kimchi section, the smile on her lips faded when she spotted a familiar figure. She internally cursed as their eyes met. Jaemin observed her complexion growing paler as the person approached them.

“Eomma,” the word slipped past her lips without her realizing.

“Well if it isn’t my lovely daughter,” the woman chimed. “You haven’t been answering any of my texts, I was getting worried.”

Unconsciously, her grip on his hand tightened. She hadn’t seen her mother since their argument. But that didn’t stop her from berating her phone with texts that said all kinds of things. She didn’t expect to run into her mom like this.

“Yeah…I was busy,” she mumbled in reply.

Her mother turned to Jaemin with an intrigued expression. “And who’s this?”

Before she could answer, Jaemin spoke up. “Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/n)’s boyfriend, Na Jaemin.”

As he politely bowed, her mother clasped her hands together. “Oh, how wonderful. She’s never mentioned you before.”

Jaemin was perceptive enough to catch the way she bit her lip. She only ever did that when she was nervous or uncomfortable. While he didn’t know why she seemed so tense, he decided not to comment on it for now.

“It’s a recent thing. We’ve been together for a few weeks now,” he explained with a tight-lipped smile.

She sucked in a breath, observing her mother eye Jaemin as if he were a piece of candy.

“What a handsome face. (Y/n) should bring you over sometime,” her mom said, subtly darting her eyes towards (Y/n). “After all, I am her mother and gave birth to her. It makes my heart ache when she doesn’t visit.”

The indirect jab hidden beneath her mom’s words made (Y/n) feel like a little girl again. She hated it when her mom tried to guilt her because it always worked.

“Sure, Eomma. We’ll visit you,” she said, forcing herself to smile.

Her shoulders gradually sank once they were a safe distance away. Sensing her unease, Jaemin lightly nudged her. “Are you okay?”

Almost automatically, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just finish shopping.”

Jaemin frowned as she pushed the cart forward and walked ahead of him. The way she immediately brushed him off confirmed that something was off. But if she wasn’t ready to talk about it, he didn’t want to push her.

He was sure she’d open up to him more eventually.

┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦

The unease she felt since encountering her mom that day hadn’t gone away. Her phone hadn’t stopped blowing up with messages since. Though her thumb scrolled mindlessly through her mom’s texts, she couldn’t find the energy in her to respond. Letting out a quiet sigh, she placed the phone down so she could focus on her homework.

“Princess, do you have an extra phone charger?” She glanced up at the sound of Jaemin’s voice.

She couldn’t help but blush a little at the name he used for her. He started calling her that some time ago, and it never failed to make her heart skip a beat.

He had come over to her dorm after his class to do some studying. But it ended up turning into her doing actual work while Jaemin ranted about how Jeno accidentally poured water on his laptop. While he was a little distracting, she didn’t mind his presence at all. She was so used to doing everything on her own, and having Jaemin around made her aware of the loneliness she had been feeling prior.

Nodding, she pointed toward her desk. “Should be in the first drawer.”

Jaemin opened the drawer in search of the charger. However, his eyes widened when he unexpectedly found a razor blade peeking out from a notebook. His brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly picked it up. Upon closer inspection, he noticed brownish-red stains on the blade.

She sat up straighter on the bed, her eyes meeting the back of his head. “Did you find it?”

“(Y/n)...what is this?” he asked.

When he turned to her with the familiar shiny tool, her eyes widened with panic. Curses instantly flew through her head, realizing she had forgotten it was there. How could she be so stupid?

Quickly regaining her composure, she attempted to brush him off. “Oh, that’s nothing. Just an old thing.”

She could sense the skepticism in his eyes, and her fingers instinctively gripped the edge of her sleeve, pulling it down. Jaemin caught that, causing his worry to deepen. Setting the blade down, he moved to sit beside her on the bed. His gaze involuntarily fell to her arm, and she pulled back as he extended his hand.

“Can I see?” His voice carried a softness that tugged at her emotions.

Struggling to maintain eye contact, she bit her lip in hesitation. (Y/n) knew that if she was going to be with Jaemin, he would eventually have to find out about her secret. Nevertheless, she hadn’t anticipated it happening so soon. After a deep breath, she reluctantly rolled up the sleeve of her sweater. She looked down at the series of old scars with a mixture of shame and disgust.

Half of her expected the same reaction from Jaemin. But instead, his expression remained unreadable as he lightly traced his fingers over the faded marks. His touch sent an electric tingle down her spine.

“What happened, Princess?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She knew that he simply wanted to understand the reasons behind the scars. However, his question brought back memories she had buried deep, almost making her feel sick. Nonetheless, she took another deep breath before starting to open up.

“Ever since I was little, my parents were always fighting and it always made me feel anxious. At some point I started to think that my parents would’ve been happier if they hadn’t had me,” she confessed. “Then I started cutting myself to numb my feelings. And it only got worse when my mom filed for divorce. I always knew it would happen, but it still hurt.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought back to those nights where she felt so helpless and resentful. The only person who was able to pull her out of that dark place was Renjun. But she was brought back into that downward spiral after everything unfolded. Fighting against her mental state had been a long battle that she still hadn’t fully recovered from.

Jaemin listened in silence, his heart aching for the pain she endured. Now he understood why she seemed so unnerved when they ran into her mother at the store. He could only imagine the influence her mom had over her.

“So that’s why my relationship with my mom isn’t great,” she continued, fidgeting with her blanket.

Jaemin could discern the anguish in her expression. “I stopped cutting a long time ago,” she said, glancing down. “But I understand if you don’t like me anymore.”

Honestly, she didn’t know how he could still like her when he saw her hideous scars that only revealed her brokenness. Yet, the Jaemin she had fallen for wasn't like that at all. Instead of recoiling in revulsion, he lifted her chin so their eyes could meet once more. Then he leaned into plant a tender kiss on her lips.

“Nothing can change how I feel about you, (Y/n),” he said with the utmost assurance. “These scars only show that you’ve gone through battles, and came out stronger because of them.”

Jaemin’s sweet words triggered the waterworks for her, and he wasted no time in pulling her into his embrace. This was the first time he saw her cry, and it only made him want to hold her tighter. In fact, he held her in his arms, providing solace for the rest of the night.

While Jaemin hated seeing her in such distress, he was also grateful that she let him see this vulnerable side to her. He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her. He felt as if he had uncovered the final piece of her puzzle.

Now that she had fully let him in, Jaemin was determined to make her feel more loved than she ever had before.

┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦

{ three years later }

“Jaemin, quit staring,” she giggled. “You have to focus on the road.”

He pouted in response, reluctantly obeying. “I can’t help it, your new hair color is so pretty.”

A blush crept up her cheeks as she subconsciously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Dying her naturally brown hair to burgundy had been an impulsive decision on her part. She thought that a little change might be nice, and Jaemin seemed to like it.

Time had flown by so quickly. It felt like yesterday when she was insistent on not getting close to Jaemin. And now he had become someone she treasured the most. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

She had graduated college and secured her first full-time job. While Jaemin was in medical school, studying to become a surgeon. Although his schedule could be demanding, he still made time for her, which she appreciated.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“This fried chicken place Jeno told me about,” he replied, playfully ignoring the way she hastily changed the subject. (Y/n) hummed in response, gazing out the car window to admire the night aesthetics of the city.

Right when they stepped in the restaurant, they were greeted by the enticing aroma of chicken and beer. The dimly lit ambiance cast a warm glow across the space, creating an inviting atmosphere. The latest K-pop songs reverberated through the air, infusing the restaurant with a vibrant energy that resonated with the bustling city outside.

“(Y/n)!”

Jaemin noticed the startled expression when she heard her name being called. He glanced in the direction of the voice and spotted a charismatic tan-skinned man with dark brown hair, radiating a lively and welcoming aura.

“Lee Haechan?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“The one and only.” The boy said proudly, shifting his gaze to the person standing beside her. “Nice to see you, (Y/n)...and who did you bring with you?”

She blushed almost immediately, briefly glancing at Jaemin. “Oh this is Na Jaemin, my—”

“Boyfriend,” he finished for her, casually swinging an arm around her shoulders. “How do you know, (Y/n)?”

“Oh, we go way back since elementary school.” She caught the mischief in Haechan’s smile, and she just knew that he was ready to tease her.

Thankfully, he held back and guided them to a table. Once they settled down, Haechan told her about how he opened up this restaurant after college. It was nice catching up with him after all these years. However, Haechan seemed to be more intrigued about her and Jaemin.

“So how did you two get together?” Haechan asked, as he placed down two glasses of beer on their table.

She exchanged a glance with Jaemin before answering, “We shared a few classes our first year in college, and he used to go to the café I worked at.”

“Yeah, I was interested in her from the start. It took some time for her to warm up to me.” The soft smile he gave made her heart flutter. “But it was worth it.”

Haechan leaned back in his seat with a playful grin. “Well, Na Jaemin, you must have some charm to crack her tough exterior. I honestly thought she’d never let anyone in after—”

“Haechan,” she said in a warning tone, shooting him a glare. Although she’s moved on from her high school days, she still didn’t like to talk about what happened.

The male raised his hands in the air, feigning innocence. “I’m sorry, I was just saying. But I’m genuinely happy for you, (Y/n), really.”

The sincerity in his eyes allowed her shoulders to relax a little. She smiled at him gratefully, reflecting on how far she’s come since high school. The last time she saw Haechan, she was at her all-time lowest. Now, she was the happiest she had ever been in her life.

Towards the end when they were getting ready to leave, Haechan mentioned a small high school reunion event he was hosting at the restaurant next Sunday.

“You should come (Y/n). I’m sure our old friends would love to see you.”

The thought of seeing her high school friends again was daunting. Haechan noticed the hesitation in her expression and offered an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

“Just think about it,” he said.

Biting her lip, she gave him a small nod and glanced back at Jaemin so they could leave. But as Jaemin headed outside, Haechan held her back for a second.

“You should look him up.” She didn’t need to ask to know he was talking about Renjun.

Unsure of what to say, she nodded silently and joined Jaemin out in the cool evening air. She was quiet during the car ride back, but Jaemin decided not to comment on it for now.

Later in the night, instead of sleeping, she was on her laptop trying to occupy her mind with work stuff. Yet, Haechan’s suggestion lingered in her thoughts. Though a part of her resisted, the curiosity was overwhelming. So she slowly typed Renjun’s name into the search engine, and she was surprised by what she found.

He had debuted as a main vocalist in an idol group under SM entertainment. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she scrolled YouTube, showcasing his group’s music videos and stage performances. Watching the clips in awe, she couldn’t help but think back to the letter she had written to him before moving away. Seeing that he had not only pursued but achieved his dream filled with her a warm sense of pride and satisfaction. She always knew he would be successful.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn’t notice Jaemin entering the room after finishing his shower. It was pretty late by the time they got back to her apartment, so Jaemin happily accepted her offer to sleep over. She became aware of his presence when he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her. Her lips stretched into a small smile, as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Is that the guy you told me about? Your first love?” he asked, viewing the screen in front of you.

Her smile faded as she slowly nodded. “Yeah that’s him.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Jaemin spoke again. “Is that why you hesitated when Haechan brought up the high school reunion?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’d just make things awkward by going,” she sighed, turning around to lightly brush her fingers through his slightly damp hair. “What do you think?”

Jaemin gently tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. “I think you should go,” he murmured softly. “I know you moved on, but confronting your past might give you some closure.”

Her lips pressed together, recognizing the validity in his words. Despite that, uncertainty lingered in her expression.

“I could come with you if you want,” he suggested.

Surprised by his offer, she raised an eyebrow and asked if he was being serious. Jaemin nodded with a reassuring smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t let my princess do this alone.”

In moments like those, (Y/n) couldn’t help but find herself falling for him again. He was always so sweet and supportive.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” she whispered, caressing his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “I can always count on you, can’t I?”

Jaemin's smile broadened as he met her halfway for a quick kiss. He closed her laptop, and pulled her into his embrace so they could cuddle in bed. Laying there beside him, she could see the love pouring from his eyes.

And with him, she felt like she could take on anything.

┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦┈◦•◦♡•◦

No matter how much she tried to mentally prepare herself for Sunday, her hands still trembled as she stood outside the restaurant entrance. Thankfully, Jaemin was by her side to lightly squeeze her hand in reassurance. After a slow exhale, her hand wrapped around the door handle and pushed it open.

As she walked into the sound of chatter and clinking glasses, she spotted Haechan downing a shot of soju. After placing the glass down, Haechan waved over to you and Jaemin.

“Oh, you guys are here!” the male called out.

Heads turned, and the sudden attention made her cheeks heat up.

“Hey, everyone. It’s been awhile,” she said with a sheepish smile, exchanging a brief glance with Jaemin. “Um—this is my boyfriend, Na Jaemin.”

Just as she said that, her eyes locked onto him almost immediately. He didn’t look too different from the last time she saw him, except his facial features were more defined and his hair was bleached. She wondered how many times he’s had to dye his hair since he debuted.

Instantly, her introduction of Jaemin elicited excited comments and congratulations, intensifying her shyness. Seated among her former classmates, she and Jaemin found themselves bombarded with questions about how they met and other details. Gradually, she began to relax as she and Jaemin recounted their story.

Later in the evening, Haechan encouraged Renjun to perform one of his songs for the group. Although Renjun seemed hesitant initially, he eventually stepped up to the small stage located near the back wall of the restaurant. Soon, music began to play through the speakers, and she observed with anticipation.

It had been so long since she heard him sing in person. As he started with the first verse of the song, a wave of high school memories flooded through her mind. Those days when they would listen to his playlist while waiting for the bus. The summer days when he tried to get her to sing his favorite songs with him, but she was too shy to join in.

She watched as he took the microphone off the stand, reaching the chorus of the song.

“Tell me why I let you down. Any chance I get I’m breaking down,” he sang with such emotion. His voice was just as beautiful as she remembered.

“I know it’s my fault, but why is it so hard?” Her heart strangely twisted when his eyes found hers. “To tell you that I’m sorry, heart.”

It didn't take much for her to understand that he was singing to her. As he continued with the rest of the song, tears glossed over her eyes. Although she was no longer hurt by the past, hearing him now made her heart swell in emotion. Jaemin was right, this was the closure she had needed.

When the event came to a close, Jaemin suggested they take a little walk. She was a little confused when he guided her across the street and stopped under a large maple tree. Moonlight filtered through the branches, creating a serene ambiance.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing she was more quiet than usual.

She pondered on his question for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I am. I thought I would regret going tonight, but I’m glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did too. All your friends seemed nice,” Jaemin said, placing a hand in his jacket pocket. Initially, she assumed he was just cold, but then his hand emerged holding a small black box.

“What…what are you doing?” she asked, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

Jaemin smiled, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. “I was going to wait, but for some reason, I think now is the right moment.”

Her eyes widened when he got down on one knee, and her heartbeat skyrocketed instantly. A part of her wondered if she was hallucinating.

He opened the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring inside. She gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth.

“Kim (Y/n), I knew you were the one since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Jaemin began, trying his his best to keep his voice stable, his hand shaking a little. She had never seen him so nervous before.

“Over time, I fell in love with the way you smile, the way you face challenges, and the incredible strength you carry within you,” he continued. “Every day, I am so grateful that you let me into your world. And these past few years together, made me realize that I don’t want to live another moment without you in it.”

By this point, she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. Jaemin let out a shaky breath, his eyes filled with love as he asked, “So with that said, will you marry me?”

Through tears, she managed to nod, her voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”

She wished she could say the word a million times over. What did she ever do to deserve Na Jaemin in her life?

Once the ring was slid onto her finger, they embraced tightly than they ever have before. In the midst of their joy, she spotted Renjun standing across the street. Their eyes met, and the genuine smile they shared conveyed a silent understanding. In that moment, she realized that they both found their happy endings in a way. He went after his dreams, which was all she wanted for him. Meanwhile, she had found someone who cherished and valued her.

Jaemin broke away slightly to wipe her tears. Then he slowly leaned in to give her a kiss, one full of passion and tenderness. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck as she applied a little more pressure to the kiss.

“I love you, Na Jaemin,” she whispered when they parted, her eyes still watery.

The smile on his face widened as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you too, Kim (Y/n).”

The city faded away, leaving them lost in the moment. Before she met Jaemin, she questioned whether she could ever find love or be loved by someone. But none of those doubts lingered in her mind as she stood in his arms.

Though Jaemin wasn’t her first love, he was most certainly her last.

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct #jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin imagines #jaemin fic #nct dream x reader #jaemin scenarios #nct dream fic #na jaemin #nct dream fluff

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imangy · 2 years

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The Reluctant Cheerleader Eddie Munson X OC Part 1

a/n: I’m planning on making this a series that lasts I don’t know how many parts. I love Eddie so much so here’s my take on a longer fanfic <3

TW: mentions of bulimia but she’s not bulimic it was a misunderstanding

Beth was less than excited about today. A huge pep rally? Performing in front of the entire school with the cheerleading squad? No thanks.

Contrary to what people believe, not all cheerleaders were super popular and charismatic. That wasn’t Beth’s personality to begin with, not to mention being a transfer senior to Hawkins High didn’t make it any easier. Out of place was an understatement to what Beth was actually feeling.

Begrudgingly, Beth pulled herself out of her quaint twin bed- something she felt a sort of resentment toward. How come she’s 18 but still sleeps in a bed that’s the same size as her younger sister’s? She dug around in her dresser looking for the green and white fabrics that made up her cheerleading uniform and laid them out on her bed next to a pair of white socks that she promised too return to after a freshening up in the bathroom.

“Honey! Come get breakfast!” Her mother called upstairs.

“Coming!” She responded. She tussled her curly brown hair between spread apart fingers to wake the dark spirals up for the day, and looking in the mirror she stared into her terrified eyes giving herself a silent pep talk. Gotta wake up that pep too she figured. Brushing her teeth and running back to her room to get dressed, Beth ran down the stairs to see her mother and sister at the kitchen table eating- cereal for her sister and toast and peanut butter for her mother.

“Hey.” Beth said.

“Morning!” Her younger sister, Joan said to her. The two pigtails on her head bouncing with her excited movements while greeting her sister.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Her mom replied at the same time. She lifted up another plate of peanut butter toast.

“I made you some.” she said.

Beth looked at it unamused, “I don’t know, Mom.” she said, “I’m not feeling super up to breakfast today.”

Her mother scowled, “Beth, you need to eat today. Don’t you have a pep rally? You can’t perform on an empty stomach.”

Beth rolled her eyes, “You can’t throw up on one either.” she mumbled.

“Bethany...” her mother challenged as Joan yelled “EW!”

“Fine. Fine.” Beth relented, grabbing the plate and ate her meal with her small family. She licked the peanut butter off her fingers and used the slight dampness of them to pick up the crumbs left on the plate. She held the empty dish up to her mother for inspection and said “Happy?.”

Beth’s mother took a sip of coffee and looked to her newspaper. “Extremely.” she replied. This was enough to allow Beth an exit out of the house and to school, but not before kissing her mother and sister goodbye.

“I’ll see you guys after school!” She said, waving from the threshold of the front door. Jumping on her bike, she began her journey to school.

By the time she arrived, excitement was buzzing in the air. Students were talking and moving around much faster than they seemed to on a normal school day all due to the anticipation of the in-school celebration. Beth wanted to be as enthusiastic but had a hard time due to the feeling in her stomach that felt like the physical manifestation of previously mentioned excitement.

Almost as if she were a magnet, four other cheerleaders came running to her side as soon as she stepped on to the property.

“Hey Beth!” One of the more chipper cheerleaders, Chrissy, greeted her.

‘Hi Chrissy,” she said clutching the straps of her backpack tighter, “How are you doing today?”

“I’m okay.” Chrissy replied, “A little nervous but really excited too! I feel like our performance is gonna be really great today. Something special is in the air.”

“Might just be weed from the stoners in the woods.” Beth mumbled.

Chrissy giggled pushing Beth playfully, “Oh come on, Beth. Embrace the school spirit.”

Beth turned to look at Chrissy who had finished her sentence in a less peppy way than it had started only to find her staring off into space.

“Chrissy? Are you okay?” She said placing her hand on the young cheerleader’s shoulder.

Chrissy shook her blonde head, “Oh. Yeah!” She said, “Just I thought I saw- never mind.”

“Um okay.” Beth said quietly.

Chrissy firmly grasped Beth’s hand and began to drag her forward, “Come on, slowpoke! Let’s go set up for the rally!”

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

Students were filing in to the gymnasium and taking their seats in the bleachers as Beth stood in the corner trying to calm her bubbling nerves. She turned around incited by a tap on her shoulder to see Chrissy standing behind her.

“You’re going to do great.” Chrissy said bringing her into a hug.

Beth slowly pat Chrissy’s back, “Thanks, Chrissy.”

“Ladies and Gentleman! Please welcome your Hawkins High cheer squad!” The announcer shouted through the gym.

“Show time.” Chrissy smiled, leading all the cheerleaders to the middle of the floor waving her pom poms high in the air. Beth followed behind.

Loud music played in time to their synchronized movements and the crowd of students cheered loudly, their voices bouncing off the walls. Beth could feel every sound reverberated through her body in the most uncomfortable way possible. But she persisted, comforted by the fact that it would be over soon. And soon it was. The music stopped as the squad ended in their final pose evoking a wild mix of applause and cheers from her peers in the bleachers.

But Beth couldn’t really hear them the sound was muffled by the wave of anxiety that she was finally able to feel after the adrenaline of the performance wore off. Luckily for her, the basketball team began to run through the banner which provided excellent cover for Beth’s escape as she could feel her breakfast about to make a surprise appearance.

Once in the hallway she ran into the closest bathroom and promptly hurled her guts into the toilet leaving her shaking and gasping on the disgusting bathroom floor. But she had to admit that she did feel a little better. She flushed the disgusting contents down the toilet hoping to flush away the memory of the entire situation too, and exited the stall to wash her hands and mouth when she was paralyzed by the appearance of a row of urinals.

Shit. She ran into the boys bathroom. Good thing she was alone- she would just slip out as discreetly as possible.

But her plan was foiled as soon as she saw the door open and the face of a surprised boy with long hair and a a shirt that read “Hellfire Club”. He smiled at her with wide eyes, “Well would you look at that. What’re you doing in here pom-poms? Meeting your beau?”

Beth’s eyes widened, “N-N-No. I-I. Wrong bathroo-.”

“Ah I get it,” the boy said grabbing a paper towel and handing it to her, “Societal pressure and unfair beauty standards has claimed it newest victim.” He motioned to some stray bile on the side of her mouth.

“It’s not like that” Beth said wiping her face, “I-I just got nervous about the pep rally and I told my mom I didn’t want to eat breakfast because I knew this would happen but she didn’t take no for an answer so I had to eat it quickly and then I had to bike to school already not feeling the greatest and-”

“Woah, woah, slow down Pepa. Wait for Salt.” The boy joked at Beth in hopes she would stop talking which she appreciated because she obviously wasn’t able to stop herself.

“Uh sorry.” Beth said, “Nerves.” she chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh I get it,” he replied, “I used to have maaasive stage fright when I first started performing with my band. Luckily I got an iron stomach,” he patted his firm belly.

Beth laughed- this time for real, “That would be a great band name.” She said.

The long-haired goofball looked at her with his head tilted and a small smile, “Heh. It would.” He said.

“Well. I should get going back. The squad is probably wondering where I went.” Beth said beginning to wash her hands.

“Yea I get ya.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin, “Here, have an Altoid.”

Beth held out her hand graciously accepted it, “Oh thanks.” she said.

“Anytime, pom-poms.” He smiled as she went to the door.

“Beth.” He stopped and turned around from the stall door he was facing. “My name is Beth. Beth Ferry.”

“Alrighty, Beth. Nice to meet ya, the name’s Eddie. Munson. I’ll see ya around.”

With a nod she left the bathroom and slipped her way back into the gynasium acting as if she had never left.

#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson season 4 #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year

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Following my office tour from yesterday, and my fanbinding adventure from Thursday, I figured I'd show y'all my extra space and another fanbinding update!

It's just outside of my office area. By my shoe rack because we really are running out of space 😂

On Friday, my partner placed an order for the bulk of my binding needs! Plus: the Cricut Joy! It might be a teensy bit too small for what I wanted it for, but we'll see if I can make do. Even if not, it's still a neat thing to have!

Most of what he ordered came in yesterday, but there are a few more items coming in within the next few days! Nothing worth showing off, but all the supplies are in that blue bin!

So with that: it was time to get my first big project ready! And thus the main source of this update, which is "silly mistakes." And was mostly me screwing around in Scrivener and Adobe with vague ideas because I'm stubborn and like to figure things out on my own. 🙄

What I learned is: I need to figure out a setting for viewing pages in Scrivener. Which I'm fairly sure is doable. And in the meantime do this sorta work in Google Docs.

There were 2 main sources of trouble I believe. The first being: this is a bigger project than the 2 small test prints previous, and so more room to find trouble areas. The second being...I exported the projects differently 🫣 In my defense, the setting I printed my test runs in was "paperback" and I realized yesterday that...that needs to be setup, or else it exports "default." So I went with "default."

Turns out: there are differences between "default" and "paperback" but it was such a relatively small detail compared to others, that it wasn't immediately apparent. As in: I spent all night fixing other problems and got to the end, thinking myself a champion, only to realize: the text here is way too small. Like tiny.

Before this, I'd had to shift a few things between pages (not fun), add blank pages (which screwed up my page numbering), and spent way too much time trying to figure out how to fix the page numbering before I realized: I have to manually update the page numbers, because all I can do in Adobe is fix how the pages are labelled in Adobe. And it was after all that I realized my text size issue.

I'm not sure how or why because Adobe tells me the text is the same font and size as I had it in Scrivener. But the "paperback" export option 100% will print bigger. Someone more familiar with all of this than me is probably laughing but oh well.

Also did I mention I only noticed this after printing all of my signatures?

Yeah.

I was checking that other issues had been fixed. And the way the text printed is as tiny as it looks in Scrivener. And I originally shrank the text in Scrivener because of previous test prints. 😒

Scrivener is great for writing, but not for fanbinding apparently. Or maybe it's fine and I just need to know what the heck I'm doing haha.

Anyway, basically I exported from Scrivener into a PDF like 20 times yesterday adjusting various issues in Scrivener. Then played around in Adobe Acrobat for hours. And even then, I still had to renumber my pages again. Manually. But I finished that this morning! By like 5 AM because I wake up absurdly early.

Which means: I can print today! Maybe I'll even stitch the signatures together, that way I can focus on new skills once all my other supplies come in!

My next step will probably be to learn whether I can use the Cricut for foiling the way I wanted, but I have to wait for my foil transfer kit to come in. Once I know whether I can or not, I'll be able to move onto the rest!

Also, like, why do I have to work this week when I have a new hobby to learn?? 😭

Bonus: the painting I have above my printer!

My mom, sister, and I did some paint class thing together a few years ago. We were all painting a "street lamp in New Orleans." I wanted to give the street a Harry Potter-esque name, but my brain came up with "Blood Dr." and I'm still to this day giggling about it. It also amuses me how gloomy and morbid it is against the brightly colored backdrop.

#danpuff stuff #creator space #fanbinding #busy bee bindery

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automatismoateo · 2 years

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How I, as an atheist ended up with a religious exemption :) via /r/atheism

How I, as an atheist ended up with a religious exemption :)

I want to make a statement before anyone reads this, I am pro-vaccine.

Now onto the story of how I as an atheist ended up with a religious exemption. I got into a college and I was going through the registration process when they asked me a question I hadn't been asked in a long time. They asked me for my childhood vaccination records. Keep in mind I'm in my 30s, I had moved several countries/etc I had lost proof my childhood vaccinations LONG AGO. In fact when they initially asked for proof of vaccination I had literally just gotten my 3rd COVID19 vaccine shot so I provided them proof of that. I was told no they needed proof of my childhood vaccinations. I got on a call with the lady and I made my case

I have 3 COVID19 shots, I'm obviously pro-vaccine, I just don't have access to my childhood vaccination records in time for the deadline

I am a 100% online student and won't be going to the campus

I really want to attend the college

She says she's going to transfer me to her supervisor who was a lovely lady. The lady really seemed to agree with me. I even mentioned how my mom was an RN, how my dad was in the military, and how there is no way I went to the schools and the places I went without being vaccinated, and she agreed I had a point, but she still needs proof.

Then she said "You need one of two things, you need to provide your vaccination records OR you need a religious exemption" and I said "How do I get the religious exemption?" she was kind and said "I'll help you fill out the form right now"

We go through the form, and we get to the religious part, and she goes "And what religion are you?"

I go "Should I be honest?" she goes, "Sure" I go "I'm an atheist"

And she laughed, and she said "Your joking right?" I said "Nope I'm an atheist" and she said "Well looks like you might be the first atheist our school has ever granted a religious exemption too" at this point I had a feeling it was going be granted and I said, "So your the one that approves it?" she caught herself and said "O no I have to send it up" I said "O ok" We finish the questions and she goes "I'll know tomorrow I'll send you an email"

The next day I get an email saying my religious exemption has been approved and my hold is lifted and I can register for classes.

The funny thing is in one of my classes we had a discussion on vaccines, and apparently, a student who was actually religious was upset because his religious exemption was denied and he was forced to get the COVID19 vaccine. I decided to kept my mouth shut as I get the feeling the lady who approved my exemption likely bent some rules to get me in.

FYI I was eventually able to get a previous school of mine to provide me a copy of my vaccination records and my college now has them on file, and I have backed those records up in several places.

Submitted July 29, 2022 at 02:20PM by redditadmindumb87 (From Reddit https://ift.tt/KU8byMW)

#reddit

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

letting go

summary - when spencer comes back from prison, there’s no doubt he’s changed, especially in the bedroom.

warnings - cat-calling, inmates describing gross sex things, soft dom!spence, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, fingering, aftercare, bit of subspace, fluff. *let me know if i missed anything*

wc - 3,758

masterlist

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

spencer had been gone for almost three months. in prison. he was in prison for three months. in hell for 84 days.

you had visited him as much as you could, remembering the times he would be bruised and beaten each time you would visit him. some days his bruises would be even worse than the previous time.

on your visits, the men in the back would holler and cat-call you. you didn’t mind, as long as you were able to see spencer. but spencer did mind. he minded that those criminals were thinking things about you that only he, as your boyfriend, should be thinking.

but he couldn’t do anything about it.

the few times he tried, he only got beat worse. he wanted to defend you, to let you know that he could protect your image, but inside of that prison he couldn’t. he had no power. he had no control.

you told him it was okay.

“i can handle a few whistles, spence,” you reached your hand across the table to gently stroke his knuckles. “it’s alright,” you tried to ease the obvious tension in his body.

“no. it’s not alright,” he softly argued. “you don’t even want to know what they’re thinking about right now,” he turned his eyes to the table, avoiding your gaze entirely.

“i don’t need to know. i just need to talk to you,” you whispered softly. “i just need you to know how much i love you.”

“i love you, y/n,” he finally met your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

when he would go back to his cell, or to eat lunch he would overhear people talking about you. talking about the things they would do to you. the things they were thinking about you.

“she’s got a fine ass, too. i would slam it so fucking hard, shit,” a large man groaned, recalling the image of you walking out of the building.

“i’d make dr. fbi watch while i did it, too. i don’t know how he got a bitch that looks like that,” another one replied.

he could only try to tune it out. most of the time it wouldn’t work. he would be doomed to the psychological torture of hearing them mention the crude things about you, unable to do anything about it.

so anytime you came to visit, he would have to mentally prepare himself for the worst. he wanted to see you, he truly did, but them saying those things about you made him want to restrict you from seeing him as a whole. but he loved you too much for that, and as selfish as it was, he needed to see you.

he needed your light heart. he needed your kind spirit. he needed your lifted energy. he just needed you. and if he had to do that while taking a bit of the names and annoyances, he would.

and you knew he hated it. so every time you visited him after the first time you would wear sweatpants and a hoodie or anything that would hide your figure. you wouldn’t wear makeup, you would try to look as unappealing as you could, just to try and make spencer more comfortable.

but it didn’t necessarily work.

the first time you ever visited him, you wore your normal work outfit. a charcoal gray skirt, a matching gray blazer, white button up blouse, and black heels. that was probably the worst it was for spencer. you heard them hollering from behind the glass, trying to get your attention. you played it off cool in front of spencer, in spite of feeling slightly uncomfortable.

he knew it made you uneasy, but you kept up your spirit for him.

the last time you had to visit was to tell spencer he was finally coming home. he thought it was just another visit, but he was also in private meeting room waiting to see you.

you could wear your normal work outfit to visit him again.

you walked through the door, a small smile on your face. your eyes began watering from the thought of actually being able to touch him again, to feel his arms around you. to feel his lips against yours.

“you’re coming home now, spencer,” you felt the tear leave your eye, now rolling down your cheek.

his face changed as he came to the realization that he was no longer trapped in that hell hole. his eyes went wide, watering just like yours had as he walked quickly over to you, enveloping you inside of his arms completely.

the first hug he’s had since he got transferred to the prison. he was glad it was with you.

his arms went around your waist as yours were over his shoulders, his face nuzzled in your neck, his sniffles muffled by your skin.

he relished in the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your soft skin against his, the warmth of your body he’d missed for so long. he relished in your presence.

he pulled back long enough to press a firm kiss to your lips, his hands trailing up to cup your face softly. your hands held his arms right where they were, not wanting to let him out of your reach again.

“i love you,” he said once he left your lips long enough.

“i love you,” you returned.

the sweet paradise didn’t last for long because there was still the matter with cat. spencer was troubled with what was going on with his mom. stressed from the realization that he might lose her forever. he leaned on you even more during that time, needing your strength to help guide him through the hurt. you were more than happy to oblige.

once you had all found his mom, safe and sound, spencer was finally able to relax a bit. you both had decided to have a night in, just the two of you.

you turned on some soft music, and began making dinner together. you hadn’t had a moment to actually breath for so long, let alone spend quality time together in your shared apartment.

making dinner with him was mostly just you doing all of the work. it’s not that he didn’t want to help, he really did. he’s just not the best in the kitchen. besides, you’d rather have his moral support than him to help.

so as you hovered over the stove, stirring the sauce the pasta was just poured into, he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into your shoulder and placing soft, gentle kisses. you turned around into his embrace, placing a kiss to his lips in return.

“it’s almost ready, bubs,” you said with a smile.

“smells fantastic,” he complimented. “but i’m also in the mood for something else right now,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“oh? and what is that?” you countered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i think you know what that is, darling,” he said, pressing a kiss to your jawline with a little nibble.

“how about we save that for after dinner, yea? i don’t want it to get cold and i’m hungry right now,” you shrugged, releasing him from your grip and turning around completely.

“well that doesn’t mean i don’t get to hold you while you finish up,” he argued, wrapping his arms around your waist again and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“okay, well you do that, sir,” you laughed, stirring the pasta once more. “actually, can you hand me the plates, please?”

“of course,” he complied, handing you the plates that were on the already set table. “here you are.”

you both ate relatively quickly, you weren’t lying when you said you were hungry. after cleaning up a bit, which was spencer’s job since you cooked, you had both settled on the couch and were cuddling while watching a rerun episode of doctor who.

he was laying his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your body protectively as you stroked his hair softly.

then, he ran his hands underneath your shirt slowly, stroking the soft skin on your waist. his hands gradually went higher and higher on your stomach until the were right underneath your boobs.

“spencer?” you giggled.

“hmm?” he mumbled, lifting the shirt to reveal your stomach and lightly kissing it all over.

“are you okay?” you asked, looking down at the man who was practically worshiping your body.

“hmm, i’m perfect,” he hummed against your body. he let his hands go higher on your body, grasping your breasts through your bra. you let out a breathy exhale from his touch.

his lips traveled to replace his hands as they traveled to your back, looking up at you for permission before he unclasped your bra. you nodded eagerly.

“i need words, princess,” he ordered, his voice deeper than previous.

“yes, please,” you squirmed, feeling the wetness pooling at your core as he undid your bra, revealing your chest to him as he threw it somewhere in the room.

when his lips finally wrapped around one of your breasts, his hand went to the other one, playing with it gently. his tongue toyed with your nipple, his teeth gently grazing it occasionally.

“oh my god,” you breathed out heavily, your hips bucking up towards him for any friction.

he brought his knee up to your core, giving you the perfect amount of pressure you needed. your hips ground against his knee quickly, begging for any kind of release you could get. his mouth switched breasts when he felt the other one was neglected. when he could tell you were getting close he snapped his knee away from your body, a low groan leaving your mouth.

“patience, princess,” he laughed against you, his mouth coming up to kiss yours fervently. “you’ll take what i give you, alright?” you nodded. “words,” he brought his hand up to wrap around your throat gently, not applying any pressure.

“yes, sir,” you moaned at this new found assertiveness.

it wasn’t that he was never ‘in charge’ in the bedroom. it normally just took a while for him to get there. besides, he had also told you before how he kind of liked it when you were in control of him. you liked it either way, as long as you were with spencer you loved it.

“i want you to go to the bedroom for me. you should be undressed by the time i go in there. no touching yourself. got it?” he asked, his hand moving from your neck to your chin, pressing it between his fingers.

“i’ve got it, sir,” you nodded eagerly as he allowed you to get up and make your way to the bedroom. you followed ever instruction he had given you, finding it even harder to not touch yourself while you waited for him. you sat in the center of the bed on your knees, facing the door.

after a few minutes you finally heard footsteps outside of the door. when he entered, he looked at you with such loving, caring eyes you weren’t sure what you had done to deserve him.

“princess,” spencer greeted you, “if you’re not comfortable with doing this you don’t have to act like it for me,” he said in his normal sweet tone as he sat beside you on the corner of the bed, his arm tracing down yours softly. “i need you to be totally and completely sure that you’re okay with this.”

“i am, spence,” you assured him. “i promise. if i don’t like anything i’ll say red like we normally do. i remember the stop light system,” you finished, leaning more into his touch.

“alright, i was just checking,” he leaned in, placing his free hand on the side of your face to bring you in for a tender kiss. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

“alright, princess,” he switched his normal tone into one of dominance. “ready?”

“yes, sir. i’m ready,” you agreed, clenching your thighs together to find any source of relief.

“good girl,” he leaned in, placing another kiss on your lips. when your hands went to wrap around his neck and in his hair he grabbed them in his own. “no. good girls ask for permission.”

“i-i’m sorry, sir,” you apologized. “i just-you’re so...” you trailed off.

“maybe i need to restrain these since you clearly have no control of them,” he wondered, moving to hold both of them in one of his hands.

“n-no sir, please. i’ll be good now. i promise,” you pleaded, trying to convince him otherwise.

“i don’t think so. sit against the bed frame,” he ordered as he moved to the closet to grab two ropes for your wrists. “now, maybe next time you’ll have half a mind to ask permission before touching me,” he began wrapping your wrists securely in the ropes.

“yes, sir,” you nodded sadly, your eyes reaching the bedspread.

“are these tight enough?” he asked as he pulled on one of the ropes.

“yes, sir. they’re tight enough,” you pouted.

“hey, princess,” spencer pulled his hand to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your cheekbone as you nuzzled into his touch. “this is because you need to learn, alright? it won’t be forever.”

“alright, sir,” you smiled as he placed his lips to yours one more time.

“you’re my girl, right?” he asked as his hand began trailing down your naked body, tracing every curve you have.

“yes, sir,” you breathed out, goosebumps forming from his touch.

“mmm, you’re so beautiful,” he hummed as his hands traced from your hips down to your center, purposely missing the one place you craved his touch.

“please, sir,” you closed your eyes, hoping to feel his hand giving you some kind of relief.

“what did we talk about patience earlier?” he said as he moved his position on the bed.

“i-i take what you g-give me,” you recalled from your earlier conversation.

“so you’ll take what i give you now,” he said as he trailed kissed across your thighs in an upward direction. “i can’t even tell you how much i missed your pretty pussy. how often i thought about it late at night when i was alone,” he growled into your body. “i thought about,” he moved his hand to trail right above your clit, going all around it but never making any contact, making you squirm even more, “how responsive you are. i thought about how good you taste on my tongue,” he said as he trailed his tongue right over your entrance, a low groan leaving your mouth. “thought about that noise.”

“oh, god,” you mumbled as his tongue continued to move at your entrance, occasionally going in and out, eventually his tongue making its way to your clit and flicking it gently. “shit, yes,” your hips were nearly grinding against his face, your arms yanking at the bedframe.

the way he would groan into your pussy, just turned on from all the noises that emitted from your body was enough to send you over the edge as his tongue continued it’s attack on your clit. the only thing is, you needed permission.

“please, please, please, sir,” you begged.

“please what, princess?” he asked, his fingers taking his tongues place and continuing to move.

“please can i cum? p-pleaseeee?” you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes.

“cum for me,” he ordered. “show me how pretty you are when you cum,” he said as his lips connected with your pussy once more, finally sending you over the edge.

“fuck! yesss! oh my god,” you cried out as he worked you through the high.

the only thing is, he didn’t stop once you came down. he kept on going. he moved his fingers to your center and slowly pushed them inside of you, moving them rapidly in motion with his tongue on your clit. his fingers accompanied with his tongue and the way he moaned against your body was quick to bring you right back to that edge, you found yourself falling over it very quickly.

“oh my- please! can i cum? i’m so so close please?!” you begged once more.

“go ahead, princess,” he mumbled quietly against you.

you came with a string of ‘thank you’s’ as your hands pulled against the restraints violently.

“yesss, oh my god!” you yelled as you came down from your high once more.

“good girl, you’re doing so good for me,” spencer praised as his hands trailed up to your breasts, gently massaging them.

“mm, thank you, sir,” you relished in his touch.

“i’ve missed you so much, waiting to taste you like that again...” he trailed off. “waiting to be inside you again. to feel you cum all over my dick, god i miss that,” he growled.

“me too, sir. please,” you huffed out, squirming as he trailed kisses up your torso. “i-i want to feel you, please,” you pulled against the ropes.

“does my princess want to touch me?” he teased, trailing his hand down the side of your face.

“yes, sir. please!”

“since you’ve been so good, i’ll allow it,” he complied, finally undoing the restraints. you held your arms against your side as he massaged them, trying to bring the feeling back. “alright, princess. you can touch me now.”

“thank you, sir,” you said as you brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you so you could kiss him.

“on your knees,” you immediately rolled over to your knees, your ass waving in the air waiting for spencer. “good girl,” he chuckled, his hand tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze.

before you knew it, spencer was pushing himself into you. it had been so long since you’d been with him, it felt like the first time you had been together. subtle whimpers left your mouth as he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“fuck, i missed your tight pussy,” he growled, his words causing more wetness to pool where the both of you met.

“it-it’s too big, sir,” you cried as he pulled back out slowly, only to push himself inside once more. “ah!”

“take it, sweet girl. i know you can take it,” he bent down to moan into your ear as he slowly thrusted into you again. “uh... just like that, princess. just like that,” he groaned. his hands found your hips, guiding them onto his cock even with his thrusts inside of you.

“oh my god,” you huffed as your face began to turn into the bed, the pillows and sheets muffling your sounds. “fe-feels so full.”

“you’ve got it, sweet girl. be my strong girl, alright,” he said, noticing the way your head nodded in the pillows. he trailed his hand up your back and grasped your hair, pulling your body up to meet his. “words, princess.”

“yes, sir. i-i’m so s-sorry,” you stuttered out, your head leaning back on his shoulder as his hand trailed down the front of your body. his thrusts only sped up the longer he stayed inside you. “oh, yes, yes, please!” you begged, not sure what for.

“what is it? huh?” he moaned in your ear. “want me to cum inside of you? or do you want to cum all over my dick? which is it?”

“bo-both, sir. please!” you confirmed as he quickly pulled out of you just to flip the both of you over so he was on top of you.

his hand found its way to the crest at the center of your body, doing rapid yet gentle strokes to get you just where you needed to be. before you knew it, your third orgasm of the night had come and gone. your arms went around his waist and neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. the warmth and pulsing of your pussy helped pull spencer over the edge soon after you, his release inside of you being something you didn’t know you missed so much.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he groaned as he fucked his own release back into you. “so good, y/n. you’re so amazing,” he praised, pulling out of you as you whimpered from the overstimulation

“spencer?” you asked, feeling a bit hazy.

“yes, princess?” he asked as he rubbed gentle circles on your hips.

“mmm, i love you,” you smiled dizzily.

spencer noticed that look. the glazed over eyes, the way your smile seemed slightly faded. he knew exactly what to do for that, too.

“i love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled, placing a kiss to your forehead. “why don’t we get you cleaned up, yea?” spencer’s hand found your hair, gently running his fingers through it.

“shower with me?” you asked, your hands trailing his jawline ever-so-softly, barely ghosting over his skin.

“of course, y/n,” he agreed, getting up so he could guide you to the bathroom.

he gently sat you down on the toilet as he started the bath just how you liked it. he made sure to add lavender epsom salts to soothe your muscles, which were more than likely sore from the night’s activities. he added a few essential oils which were good for anxiety, worry, and body aches just to be sure.

“alright, sweet girl. ready for the bath?” he looked over his shoulder to find you practically on top of him.

“yes, sir,” you nodded.

spencer sat behind you as you leaned onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as his palms rested against your stomach. you interlaced your fingers with his on your stomach as your head tilted to lay onto his shoulder.

“i missed you, spencer,” you broke the comfortable silence. “a lot.”

“i missed you too, y/n,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“can i ask something?”

“anything.”

“what was that tonight?” you asked. “i loved it, don’t get me wrong. it was amazing. it’s just... you normally aren’t like that.”

“well,” he sighed. “i guess it’s because every time you would visit, the other inmates would say things. like... really bad things about you,” he felt tears welling in his eyes from the memories. “and while i was in there, i couldn’t do anything about it. so i guess i was just a bit pent up from the frustration, is all,” he shrugged.

“i’m sorry, spence. but,” you turned to look him in the eyes. “you’re not there anymore. no matter where your mind might take you, you’re here. you’re back with me,” you wiped the tears that he didn’t even know fell as he mirrored that of yours.

“i’m so happy to be back,” he pressed your foreheads together, not breaking the eye contact.

“i’m never letting you go again.”

#post prison spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer smut #mgg #mgg smut #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n

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falcqns · 3 years

Text

Aurorra

Pairing: Dad!Henry Cavill x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Henry meets his daughter for the first time.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst. Dad!Henry

A/N: I don't know why I'm a sucker for these types of stories but I am. Hope you enjoy!

It's been two years and two days exactly since you and Henry had broken up.

It had been one year, one month, and two weeks exactly since you had given birth to his daughter, the daughter he had no idea existed.

It hadn't been a particularly nasty break up or anything, but both of you were hurting. You both wanted the relationship to work out, and when it didn't, you were both too heartbroken to even remain friends.

You had moved away from London not long after the breakup, deciding to live in Manchester, which was closer to your family. When you found out you were pregnant, you had tried to call him, but he had blocked your number. You had no way of contacting him other than through instagram, but he had unfollowed you and you knew your message would get lost in the thousands he received a day if you tried that.

You had no way of contacting his family either. You didn't know what to do. You had told your family, and they were insanely happy for you, even though you were going to be a single mother. When your mom had sat down and told you her and your father would do anything to help and support you through whatever decision you made, you knew the answer.

You were going to be a single mother.

When your daughter Aurorra Enola Cavill was born nine months later, you knew you made the right choice. Being a single mother may not have been what you were planning in life, but holding your blue eyed and brown curly haired baby in your arms for the first time, you knew it was what you were meant to do.

Aurorra had become your little bestie. She was such a well behaved baby. She rarely cried, slept through the night not long after she turned a week old, and was always full of smiles that were clearly from her father. There was never any doubt in your mind that she was Henry's, and every time you looked at her and saw her blue eyes, brown hair, and her cuddly chunky body, it only solidified that fact.

Aurorra had just turned 13 months old, and your job transferred you back to London, so you and Aurorra had just made the big move back.

You had opted to move back to the same neighbourhood both because of the safety of it, and because you knew you'd have a good chance of running into Henry. You had thought about it for months on end, and knew he couldn't be kept in the dark any more.

You had just finished unpacking the last box in the bedroom, when Aurorra woke up from her afternoon nap. You changed her and the two of you headed out to ASDA to get some groceries.

You pulled in the driveway and saw car that looked similar to Henry's BMW, but you didn't think anything of it. You parked and got a less than happy Aurorra out of her carseat and strapped her into the cart before heading on your shopping journey.

You had made it through the fruits and vegetables, and was heading to the freezer section to grab frozen fruit for the growing 13 month old, when you saw a familiar back in the same aisle.

It was Henry. There was no doubt about that. He was wearing a white knitted cardigan, with faded blue jeans, and running shoes. From the top of his cardigan you saw a dark blue t shirt poking out. His hair was slightly messy, but still curly. He was reading the nutrition information on the back of a frozen energy bowl, and you quietly opened the fridge, hoping to grab what you needed from this aisle and escape without him noticing you.

You had gone over seeing him again a million times in your head, and in no way did you plan on it being in the grocery store with other people around.

But, 13 month olds have a mind of their own. At that moment, Aurorra saw a popsicle package with the characters from her favourite show, Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, and proceeded to squeal and call your attention.

"Mama!" She squealed and pointed a chunky hand at the popsicles. "Bug!" You glanced up and Henry and watched as he did a double take back at you. His eye brow furrowed, but you ignored him, instead turning to your baby.

"Yes, that is Ladybug. Would you like them?" You asked, and she nodded eagerly. You smiled and grabbed them out of the freezer once you noticed they were organic. "Say thank you," You prompted, and she brought the same chunky hand up to her chin and then down flat towards you. It wasn't the most perfect sign, but she was still learning.

You saw Henry walk up to you and had to steel yourself for the coming conversation. "Y/N?" He asked, and you turned around to face him.

"Hi, Henry." You said, placing the popsicles in the cart with the rest of your groceries. He smiled at you, and then glanced at Aurorra. She smiled and cooed at him and he smiled back, and stroked her cheek. "Hows everything," you asked, trying to avoid the question you knew was about to come.

"Everything's good. Kal misses you. Still sleeps with the teddy you got him," He said, his eyes locked on your daughter. You smiled.

"Well, tell him I miss him too. Now, if you'll excuse me, we're running a little late. I have to get home and get her fed." You said, but before you could move the cart Henry asked you the question.

"I-is she mine?" He asked, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump that had been forming in your throat, to no avail.

"Y-Yes." You stuttered, and seconds later, Henry's arms enveloped you. "I-Im sorry," You whimpered, and Henry shushed you.

"Its okay. Let's not talk about it here. How about I meet you at your place once were both done?" He suggested, and you agreed, before giving him your address.

"Okay. I'll see you there." he said, giving you another hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of Aurorra's hand that had curled around his pointer finger. He stroked her cheek once more, before giving you both a smile, and heading off. He grabbed his cart with groceries, and made his way towards the checkout.

By the time you had finished shopping and made it home, Henry was parked in the driveway. You took a deep breath, and got out, giving him a smile. He returned it, and got out of his car before walking over to help you.

He grabbed the groceries, leaving you to grab Aurorra, who squealed at the sight of Henry. Henry chuckled, and blew her a kiss. He followed the two of you inside. You set Aurorra down, who stumbled on her own feet before stabilizing, her empty bottle in the right hand.

"Go put your baba in the kitchen please," You said, and she babbled to herself as she walked off, ignoring you and Henry.

"She's absolutely adorable," Henry said, and you smiled. "Well, she is your daughter," You said. Henry threw his head back and laughed before following you into the kitchen.

You set the bags down on the ground and turned to put away the ones Henry set on the counter. You two made small talk while putting away the groceries, mainly about work. You heard ruffling behind you but didn't think anything of it, as Aurorra usually liked to help put away the soup cans.

"Mama?" You heard a little voice ask and you turned around to face Aurorra. She was holding the box of popsicles out to you in one hand, while her other hand made a clockwise motion on her chest, signing please.

You smiled and took the box from her.

"After dinner, okay?" You said, and she didn't like that very much. She plopped on her butt and began to cry.

Her arms reached up to where the popsicles were and sobbed her little heart out. Henry's heart melted and scooped her up. "It's okay baby girl," He said, bouncing her. She sniffled, but calmed down and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled in happiness, and pressed a kiss to her curly head.

He turned to you. "I just realized, I don't know her name," he said, and you smacked your head.

"Shit sorry, I completely forgot to mention that. Her names Aurorra Enola Cavill. I made sure she got your last name, and that you're on the birth certificate." You said, running your hands through her curly hair.

"Enola? Like Enola Holmes?" He asked, as Aurorra cuddled closer, her chunky arms wrapping around his neck. You nodded.

"Yeah. I couldn't think of a middle name for her, and I was watching Enola Holmes just before she was born. It was the scene where Sherlock and Mycroft see Enola on the train platform and you say her name. I knew then it was perfect." You said, and Henry smiled.

"It's a beautiful name," he said, wrapping his free arm around you. The three of you stood there for a few minutes, before Aurorra shook her hands at you, and tried to wiggle out of Henry's arms.

"Ah dun, Mama." She said. Henry pressed a kiss to her chunky cheek, and let her onto the floor. She scurried away seconds later, towards her bedroom.

"Is she okay wandering by herself?" He asked, watching her little body fall to her hands and knees, but get up and brush it off before continuing on her mission.

"Yeah she'll be fine. She's just going to play." You said, and Henry nodded before pulling you into his arms fully.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you about her. I couldn't contact you or anyone in your family, and I didn't have the energy during my pregnancy or after to make the journey to London. I promise I didn't plan on hiding her forever." You said, and Henry squeezed you even tighter.

"It's okay. I know you'd never do something like that on purpose. You've done an amazing job raising her. I just wish I had witnessed it."

"You'll get to see her grow. You might have missed her start life, but I have everything recorded. Her first breath, her first steps, her first words, all of it. I know it's not the sam-" You said, but were cut off by his lips.

His hand travelled up to cup your face, before he pulled away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just- You amaze me, you know that?" He said and you giggled.

"How so?" You questioned.

He rested his forehead on yours before continuing. "You thought to record everything. You made sure she has my last name and that I'm on the birth certificate. You didn't have to do that, but you did. I've missed you so much, and I didn't know just how much until I saw you in ASDA. I never should have left. I never should have blocked you." He said, a tear falling from his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. Thats never what I wanted. But, I promise to be the best dad to her, whether we're together or not."

"I know you will be," You said, and pulled Henry in for another kiss.

The groceries were put away a few minutes later and you told Henry to go and play with Aurorra while you cooked, which he happily did.

He walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and smiled lovingly when he saw his daughter sitting on the ground playing with blocks, a stuffed Akita just like Kal secure under her arm. She was babbling to a Mickey Mouse toy that sat in the corner of the room, and was stacking blocks.

Henry began to walk in the room when she stopped babbling let out a sneeze and a sigh. He grabbed a Kleenex from the change table and sat down next to her.

"Hey sweetheart, can I wipe your nose?" Henry asked, seeing the snot coming from her nose due to the sneeze. She looked up at him and giggled, which Henry took as a yes, and he wiped her nose quickly before disposing of it in the garbage can.

She began babbling again, and pushed the Akita stuffy into his hands. "Goggy," She said, and clapped, which made Henry smile.

"It is a doggy. I have a doggy like your stuffy, wanna see?" He asked, and she nodded and clapped.

Henry pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of Kal. Aurorra stood up and clambered into his lap, which Henry welcomed. When she saw the picture of Kal, she started bouncing and clapping again.

"Goggy! Goggy wun!" She exclaimed when he showed her a video of him running.

"Thats right, he is running. He's really good at it too, believe me." Henry said and put his phone away. Aurorra stood up and reached out her arm for him, opening and closing her fist. Henry stood up, and let her take his big hand in her tiny one, and lead him out of the room, and towards the back door that led to the backyard, babbling the entire way.

"Hold on, honey, we gotta tell Mama we're going outside, okay?" He said and she nodded before running to the kitchen shouting Mama.

Henry watched as she stood in the doorway and babbled before pointing at the door. She held her hand in front of her face and moved it out, closing it into a fist.

"You're going outside?" You asked, and she nodded. Henry saw you bend down and whisper something into her ear with a smile on your face and Aurorra giggle but didn't think much of it, before his little girl was running towards him and squealing.

He scooped her up and carried her out the door. She pointed at the toy box in the corner of the yard and Henry carried her over. He sat her down and opened it, before letting her pick what she wanted to play with. She grabbed a bucket with shovels and molds before running over to the lady bug sandbox and patting the lid. Henry chuckled and pulled the lid off.

"You wanna play in the sand?" He asked, and she nodded before climbing in.

Henry sat down next to her, and a shovel was thrust into his hand seconds later. She had a bright yellow one in her own hand and was digging a hole. Henry followed suit and helped her dig the hole.

A few minutes later she handed Henry a elephant mold.

"Put, Dada." She said, and Henry's breath caught in his throat, the mold falling from his hand.

"Did you say Dada?" He asked her, tears clouding his vision, and he saw her smile and point at the house.

"Mama, say." she said, picking up the elephant mold again.

"Mama told you I'm your Dada?"

She nodded and shook the mold in his face, practically begging him to take it. Henry smiled and pulled her out of the sand box, into his arms.

"I am your Dada, and I promise you I will love you forever." He said, and kissed her cheeks. She giggled before pointing at the sand box and doing grabby hands. Henry chuckled but put her back where she was. He picked up the mold and began to fill it with sand before she got upset.

"I apologize for interrupting your playtime," He said. "Now, lets make some animals."

Later that night, when Aurorra had been fed and put to bed, Henry pressed another kiss to your lips.

"She called me Dada when we were playing outside." He confessed and your eyes lit up.

"Really? I told her before she went out with you that you were her Dada, I wasn't expecting her to say it so soon!" You exclaimed. Henry chuckled, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm so happy she did. Thank you for giving me her." He said, pressing his lips to yours before you could respond.

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x y/n #Henry Cavill fluff #henry cavill angst #henry cavill imagine #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x you #dad!henry cavill #Henry Cavill x single mom!reader #Henry Cavill fanfiction

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Bully ~ Part II

Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)

TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw

Part I

‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’

The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.

The sooner you can get away from them, the better.

It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion.

But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain.

Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him.

But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.

With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?

The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends.

You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.

He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches.

“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”

His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”

Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.

Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer.

Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”

He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?

Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.

Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.

He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.

And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils.

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself.

And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness.

Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him.

It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you.

Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it.

“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.

Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.

Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.

Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze.

He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.

“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.

Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.

And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day.

“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”

You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.

You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it.

So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”

You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”

“Or?” he prods.

“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”

Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.”

He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise.

Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–

“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…”

But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams.

It can’t be any worse than this.

He has to understand that.

And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own.

He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Who would I tell?”

—

Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers.

He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.

He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had.

And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place.

It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that.

And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.

—

You hardly see him the following morning.

There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.

Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.

Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.

You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.

Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks.

“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore.

Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours.

Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.

“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.

“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”

And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.

“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning.

His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.

You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”

His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”

It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–

The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.

Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”

Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.

It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.

And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it.

“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips.

And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.

“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”

Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.

Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk.

“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”

Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video.

“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”

And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.

“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”

Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second.

There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.

“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”

There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard.

And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.

“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”

But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–

“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.

And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–

Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.

There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.

“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”

No.

Please god, no.

Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.

And that last little piece of you breaks.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa toruu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw non con #tw dub con #tw bullying #tw degradation #tw voyeurism #tw non con filming #tw abuse #ok it's 3:30 i need sleep

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forpeterparker · 2 years

Text

everything changes | p. parker

summary: on your graduation day, you run into the one that got away.

genre: angst(?), almost lovers!au

pairing: tom!peter parker x reader

word count: 900+ words

a/n: don’t mind me, i’m just in my feelings. also, this doesn’t correlate with the movies. i just like using peter as a character :D for example, i mention a harry and it’s not harry osborn or anything LOL. idk if i like this...

And just like that, you finished another life milestone. After countless all-nighters, hours of studying, and many cups of coffee, you finally made it. You graduated from college.

While walking out of the venue, many thoughts were racing your head. When do you start paying back student loans again? Where were your parents taking you out to celebrate? Did all your siblings come to the ceremony? How were you going to find your family in a sea of people? What the hell were you going to do for the rest of your life?

You managed to walk outside and you were right. There were a ton of people. There was absolutely no way you were gonna find your family without some sort of direction.

You checked your phone and saw multiple texts from the family group chat.

Family

Dad: We’re so proud of you!

Mom: Call us when you’re out of the stadium! We need to take pictures so I can post them on Facebook!

Brother: *Attachment: 1 Image* Haha it looks like you’re picking your nose in this picture

Brother 2.0: Y/N, were you actually picking your nose? That’s nasty dude

Y/N: Disrespectfully, shut up

After sending the text message, you dialed your mom’s phone number while beginning to walk down the long flight of outdoor stairs.

“Hello? Mom, where are you guys?”

“Honey, we’re near the trees.”

“Mom, there are trees everywhere.”

“We’re near the main parking lot. There’s a white tent here.”

Stopping in your tracks, you squinted while looking into the distance.

“Okay, that’s useful. I think I see the tent, but it might take me awhile since it’s pretty far.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon. Bye.”

Reaching the bottom of the steps, you ran into one of your good friends, Harry.

“Y/N!” he shouted while waving his hands.

“Harry! We finally did it!” you ran towards him and embraced him in a hug.

He broke away from the hug and held your hands, “I know. I’m so proud of you. Of us. We should make plans for the summer!”

“Yeah! Of course. Listen, I still have to go find my family. I’ll text you later, yeah?” you let go of his hands and started walking away.

“No problem! See you soon, babe!”

You laughed at the nickname.

It brought you back to your second year of college when you guys were fake dating because an awfully annoying and persistent girl wouldn’t leave him alone. Harry had to beg, knees on the floor and everything, for you to be his fake girlfriend. You finally agreed, but only if he agreed to buy you food every time he told the annoying girl that you and him were going on a date. The fake dating lasted nearly a year, but surprisingly, it solidified your friendship with him.

“C-congratulations, Y/N.” The voice didn’t belong to Harry, but it didn’t belong to a stranger either. You knew this voice.

You turned around and locked eyes with him. The person who was your high school best friend. The person who you studied and watched a movie with every Saturday night. The person who you fell in love with. The person who you envisioned you would spend the rest of your life with.

You cleared your throat and managed to put a smile on your face, “Thank you, Peter. How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”

“Three years.” he replied, a little too quick.

Three years since you found out. Three years since you went to Aunt May’s apartment to hang out with Peter while you guys were on winter break. Three years since she asked, “Peter didn’t tell you?”

What Peter didn’t tell you was that he was transferring to MIT for the spring semester. He had to leave early to attend orientation and move into his dorm.

“Wow. It’s been awhile. Are you here for Ned? I haven’t seen him since before the ceremony, but I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, I’m here for Ned–”

“Peter? Babe, where are you? There you are!”

Before you knew it, a familiar tall girl interlocked hands with Peter, but you didn’t know who she was. You quickly teared your eyes away from Peter’s gaze to look at their hands before looking at her.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend, MJ. She also went to Midtown, but I don’t think you guys knew each other.”

Your smile slightly falls, but you force yourself to smile more before reaching your hand out. “I’m Y/N. I used to be friends with Peter back in high school. I knew you looked familiar when I saw you just now, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. By the way, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re with Parker over here. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N. Thank you, but I can’t believe how he ended up with me. It’s so crazy that we both were from Midtown and I just happened to run into him at orientation. ” she smiles back at you.

It makes your heart ache to see that the boy you loved ended up with someone so sweet. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Well, I should probably let you guys go find Ned and I still need to find my–”

“We should meet up and catch up sometime.” Peter cut you off.

You wanted to tell Peter everything and nothing at all. You wanted to talk to him and have it be like old times, but you knew it wouldn’t be like that. You were at different points in your life. You were far from being in his life and it was because of what he did. He didn’t deserve to know about you and how your life was now. He lost the opportunity to when he left you behind.

This time, you put a genuine smile on your face. “Maybe. I’ll see you around, Peter.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x yn #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagine #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman #tom holland x reader #tom holland

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shenevertricks1831 · 2 years

Text

Connor Murphy x Reader (psych ward pt 2, Connor's Release)

Once Connor and Y/N meet in a teen psych ward their relationship is immediately in jeopardy as Connor is released.

A/N: So I apparently have a lot of inspiration stemming from Connor Murphy, and other Mike Faist characters...so it looks like this will be a multipart headcanon series; and I might make something for some of his other characters as well..anyway enjoy!

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of emotional and mental abuse, uhm I think that's it for this part; but as always I suck at warning so read at your own discretion.

-Since that first day you and Connor became inseparable.

-Any time you were allowed to be together you two were practically conjoined at the hip.

-Whether it was holding hands during group, or snuggling up while watching a movie, or coloring together during free time.

-The staff had never seen Connor so calm and at peace.

-But the last 24 hours everyone had been on edge; the staff, Connor, and you.

-Connor was scheduled to be released soon.

-He was going to be out a whole 2 days before you.

-It didn't seem that bad; but since you two had connected you'd been together almost all the time.

-And there were many unspoken questions about what would happen not only after his release, but after yours as well.

-It was Monday afternoon during free time in the recreational area. You sat next to Connor at a table near the window.

-You were both coloring. It seemed like a somewhat childish pastime, but you both found it relaxing.

-Only today your head wasn't in it. Your gaze kept drifting to the window, trying to distract yourself from the lump that'd been in your throat all day.

-Connor took notice that you'd stopped scribbling and rested its hand on top of yours.

-"Hey." He spoke softly pulling you from your thoughts. "What's going on?" He squeezed your hand, softly reassuring you that you could tell him anything.

-You closed your eyes, feeling tears threaten to fall. "Connor, we need to talk."

-He felt his heart drop at your words.

-"Whats gonna happen?" You choked out quietly. "You get out tomorrow. Do you," you paused trying to swallow the lump in your throat, "even want to keep in contact?"

-Connor pulled you to him and hugged you to his chest tightly.

-"Of course I do," he muttered into your hair, "the mere thought of leaving here without you breaks my heart."

-Connor slowly released his hold on you, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

-"If you will still have me after meeting me in the psych ward and knowing all my baggage, then I'd have to be crazy to let you go, and when you get out I will be waiting for you. And I don't mean that in a cheesy way, I mean I will literally be waiting outside the front door with flowers and a kiss just for you."

-You were quietly crying when he finished speaking.

-Connor leaned forward, wiping your tears away and gently kissed your forehead.

-Resting his forehead against your own he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and held onto your hands.

-Taking in a shaking breath, you spoke quietly.

-" How's this gonna work? We'll still see each other right?" You hated asking these questions out loud, it made the reality of the situation real.

-Connor did his best to smile, keeping his head down and playing with your hands.

-"Well, this city isn't that giant." He squeezed your hands gently, "And you said your mom's moving in with your aunt, which means you'll be at a new school.."

-Over the days together you'd told Connor about your mothers plans to leave your step father after years of mental and emotional abuse.

-The last straw in their relationship had been your suicide attempt, which was sparred by your step fathers abuse; so now your mother had begun the divorce process.

-Your mother had already began moving all your and her belongings to your aunt and uncles house.

-Once you were released you'd join her to live with your family across town.

- And then you'd transfer to a new school, the one your cousin attended.

-Connors fingers brushed over your knuckles soothingly.

-"Ya know," Connor spoke just above a whisper, "there's only 3 high schools in the district." He paused, taking a nervous deep breath, "That means there's basically a 50% chance that you'll transfer to my school."

-Slowly you smiled up at him knowing he was right.

-"And what if I don't end up at your school?" You softly asked.

-"Y/N, babe, you've been here for me when no one else was. A different school isn't gonna keep me from you. If you want this, us, to work then I'm all in. You've made me the happiest I've been, in a psych ward of all places. A different school won't keep me from you," he kissed you knuckles, "I promise."

*****

-It was the morning of Connor's release.

-You barely got to say goodbye.

-Well actually you two had gotten to say goodbye the night before.

-But that morning the most goodbye you got to give him was a teary eyed half smile and a small wave.

-You were separated by a glass window.

-Connor sat next to a woman, you assumed was his mother, they sat in front of a receptionist desk.

-You watched him till he left with his mother.

-He turned and gave you a small wave, mouthing 'I love you' before he walked out of the building.

-And then you felt like your heart broke.

-You'd never had a boys say they loved you, even if it was just silently mouthed, but you didn't know if it was real or if you'd see him again.

-With tears running down your face, you quietly moved to the table you and Connor would always sit at, and began to color.

-As Connor followed his mother to the car he silently cried.

-He knew it sounded stupid and dramatic, but he felt like he'd left a part of his heart behind.

-Cynthia could tell something was wrong, but she waited until they were in the car to say anything.

-"Connor," she spoke slowly, almost timidly, "are you okay hun?"

-Connor wasn't sure what came over him, but he broke down.

-He began to sob, reaching over the cars middle console and wrapping his arms around his mother burying his face in her chest as he cried.

-Both of them were mildly shocked.

-Neither of them could even remember the last time Connor had actively sought out his mother's comfort.

-With her arms wrapped around him Cynthia softly talked to her son.

-"Sweetheart what's wrong?" She did her best to not allow her voice to crack.

-Connor squeezed his mother tighter as his tears kept coming. "I-I didn't wanna leave her."

-At first Cynthia was confused, she didn't understand what her son ment, and then she remembered the girl she'd seen inside.

-The girl who was watching her son and trying to smile through her tears.

-Slowly she pulled back from her son and looked in his eyes. "Tell me about her," She slowly reached for her sons hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "please."

-"I love her." Connor whispered.

-Connor and Cynthia sat in the parking lot as Connor explained everything to his mother. He explained who you were, why you were there, what was going to happen when you got out, and how he wanted to be with you still.

-He was secretly so thankful that his father hadn't come with his mother that morning. He could only imagine how much shit Larry would of had to say about all this.

-After everything was out on the table Cynthia took a deep breath. "Well, Connor, do you know what her favorite flower is?"

-"What?"

-"If your supposed to be here with flowers when she gets out you should probably make sure you get some she likes." She spoke matter-of-factly.

-Connor looked at his mother, slightly stunned. "(your favorite flower). Th-that's her favorite." He quietly uttered.

-"Alrighty then." Cynthia smiled as she turned the key in the ignition. "I'll make sure to order a bouquet of (Y/F/F) and have them ready to go Thursday morning before she's released," she grabbed her sons hand and squeezed it, turning her smile toward him, "and then I'll have you here before she's released."

-Connor looked at his mother in wonder.

-He wiped his eyes once more before he spoke.

-"Thank you Cynth-" he paused a moment and glanced at his moms hand still holding his own, "Thanks mom."

-Then he smiled at her. And Cythia realized that was the first time in years he'd called her mom.

-She knew her husband wouldn't understand. He wouldn't be able to comprehend that their son had fallen in love in the teen psych ward.

-But she was willing to help her son; she saw a spark of hope in her son she hadn't seen in years, and she was not going to ruin that for Connor.

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #mike faist #mike faist character #connor murphy headcanon #connor murphy x reader headcanon #dear evan hansen #deh #my writting

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cheolbooluvr · 2 years

Text

the social club - chapter one

｡☆✼★ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆｡

pairing: svt x fem!reader

genre: murder mystery, angst

word count: 4.4k

warnings: murder, graphic depictions and mentions of death, nausea, grief, swearing, rich ass motherfuckers

a/n: okay nice ! we're finally starting to get the ball rolling here :D thank you to all my beta readers, you guys were awesome *claps hands* i don't rly have too much to say other than i hope y'all enjoy this!! and also PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY IN THIS WORLD *gets on knees* PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK IN MY ASK BOX OR IN THE TAGS OR WHATEVER JUST P L E A S E *ahem* okay. yeah. enjoy :D

social club masterlist

my main masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

｡☆✼★ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆｡

↤ prologue

In all your years of living, never had you wanted to be more… unalive. Perhaps not dead, necessarily (and perhaps it was too soon to be using that word), but just nonexistent.

You were never the type to really prefer or enjoy the spotlight and some might call you a “wallflower,” someone who hangs on the periphery of social circles, and moves through life without being seen. Though never perceived often, if at all, a wallflower can be extremely observant if they choose to be.

That also wasn’t you.

You were the kind of person who kept your eyes glued to the floor, only ever opting to take the road less traveled because the road less traveled meant less people. And less people meant less sets of eyes to look at… well, you. When you first transferred to the Academy, you had hoped that maybe you could finish out your high school years quietly, but as your luck would have it, they put you in a dorm with the most popular girl in school: Lee Hyeyoon.

Now, Hyeyoon was the exact opposite of you—she was a small petite girl with skin so smooth you might mistake it as “real-life photoshop,” and she had long, black hair that was as dark as the night. She was bright and bubbly, and the kind of person you might avoid at all costs because girls like her were usually mean. And despite your mom always telling you to expect the unexpected, you certainly didn’t expect to become friends with Hyeyoon, and even more than that, best friends.

To say that Hyeyoon changed your life would be an understatement. She helped you discover a love for fashion and style that you never knew existed because all you did was wear boring (albeit designer) tan and plaid uniforms. She dragged you to social events and introduced you to a plethora of people, and even if you couldn’t remember their names, at least you could recognize their faces when you passed by each other in the hallway. Being friends with Hyeyoon naturally meant being in the spotlight by association because that was where she always was, and actually, you were starting not to mind it at all, and maybe even enjoy it a little bit.

However, now, this time was different. If you were starting not to mind having eyes on you before, you definitely minded now. Every time you took a step down the long hallways, it was as if a new pair of eyes turned to look at you—some looked on with pity and sadness while others looked on with confusion and questions. Could you blame them? After all, your best friend and roommate was dead (there’s that word again), and nobody knew how or why.

Today was your first day back in classes as you had spent the last week or so laying in bed, barely eating or drinking water until Jihoon, Hyeyoon’s twin brother, came knocking to check in on you.

“Welcome back,” your homeroom teacher greeted with a small nod that was paired with yet another set of pitiful eyes. You pressed your lips into a thin line, unsure if your attempt at a smile was successful. As you made your way to your desk, your classmates looked on, trying their best not to stare, but you could feel their gaze glued to you like onlookers watching a car crash.

Fucking rubbernecks.

You removed your backpack and slipped it onto the chair, a physical relief on your body though the aching pain of grief still weighing heavy on your chest. Sitting down, you pulled out your textbook and opened it, trying to skim through the chapters you had missed though your eyes just glazed over and your vision turned blurry.

You wanted to look.

You wanted to look, but you couldn’t. Next to you was a mahogany table, identical to yours, right by the big window, the books and pens inside untouched, and…an empty chair. An empty chair that shouldn’t have been empty, but was nonetheless.

That feeling you had felt when you had first learned of Hyeyoon’s death suddenly returned, and it was as if someone was slowly stabbing knives into your heart, but as they went on the knives became duller. You couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of guilt that washed over you the longer you looked at the empty space where your friend should have been, a part of you wondering if this was all your fault.

You were snapped out of your thoughts to the sound of your name coming from your teacher. Without realizing, class had ended and you had been sitting there staring blankly out the window. He had been calling your name for a while now, but to no avail. Only after the fourth or fifth time did you break your gaze to find him standing at the front with concern plastered all over his face.

“The headmaster would like to see you,” he told you before turning around to erase the things he had written on the chalkboard to which you realized you had missed an entire lecture’s worth of notes. He was leaning over your desk now, trying to check if you were okay which you obviously weren’t. “Please,” he went on, “let us know if you ever need anything.”

You offered him the same half-assed smile from before, but nothing he, or anyone for that matter, did would bring Hyeyoon back from the dead. You organized your papers and binders into a neat pile before shoving them into your backpack, the feeling of zipping it up somewhat unfamiliar after not having done it for a week. Your bag had remained untouched and you were sure there were several missing assignments that you had to turn in, but none of your teachers had mentioned anything to you. How could they? Everyone in this school knew of your relationship to the deceased, and to force you to do something as meaningless as a history essay was just inhumane. Despite being at the top academy in the country, at least your teachers had a heart. You were thankful for this as you made your way past the crowds of people, their ogling becoming somewhat familiar now.

The headmaster’s office sat at the end of a long hallway, dark grey exposed brick walls were covered with ancient photos of former headmasters and notable alumni, some you recognized and some you knew the names of but only because they had been mentioned during assemblies or events. Maroon banners with gold embroidery touted the school’s motto, “Scholarship and Integrity of the Highest Honor!” You couldn’t help but scoff, knowing full well that some of these kids were spending Daddy’s™ money on adderall and xanax just to get by. You admittedly considered trying some when nights became too long and you found your nose buried in your laptop, the blue light ruining your vision the longer you stared at it. But as a scholarship student, if you were caught, the consequences for you were dire—for the other kids, it was a slap on the wrist, maybe detention or community service because their parents were on the board of trustees (read: $$$)—but for you, it meant not only being removed from the school, but also expulsion. You simply couldn’t let that happen, not after everything your parents went through to get you into this school in the first place. They worked too hard at their little fried chicken shop, slaving over hot oil and scorching kitchens and tending to customers hand and foot to let you have this opportunity. So, yeah, that’s why you didn’t deal with shit like that, and you just toughed it out, opting for sleepless nights, constant migraines, and torturous suffering because, well, maybe you hated yourself a little.

But Hyeyoon, she was your light in this hellhole, someone who would remind you to take breaks, get you water and food when you yourself would forget. There would be nights when you’d come back to the dorms at three or four o’ clock to find a glass of water and aspirin by your bedside table with an encouraging note written on her cute stationery with dogs on it.

She was your guardian angel.

And now she was gone.

As you neared the giant birch doors that led into the headmaster’s office, you saw that one of the doors was slightly cracked open. Unsure if that was an invitation for you to enter, you poked your head near it but stopped when you heard hushed voices come from inside.

“It’s been over a week and we still don’t know anything.”

“I said I’d handle it.” You recognized this voice as the headmaster’s, a sort of gravelly yet shrill tone that you had heard countless times before.

“How? By brushing it under the rug to save your reputation? Your daughter died and you’re just going to sit back and say that you’re ‘handling’ it? You deserve the father of the year award.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The headmaster’s voice boomed, followed by a loud sound similar to skin hitting skin. “I cannot believe you are my son.”

“Likewise,” the other voice rebutted.

Suddenly the door shot wide open and you were met by a familiar face: Jihoon’s.

His furrowed eyebrows relaxed a bit, his enraged face melting into one of confusion and surprise to see you standing outside his father’s office. However, that expression didn’t last long as the anger returned and he stormed off without acknowledging you any further. Despite being your best friend’s twin brother, you had never really talked to Jihoon much. He and Hyeyoon were very different—where Hyeyoon always had her head in the clouds, Jihoon was always rooted in the ground, very cold and pragmatic, teetering on the boundary of realist and pessimist. A part of you wondered if maybe he would have been more of a social recluse if not for the rest of his family’s social standings (his mother being a wealthy socialite herself). Most of what you knew about him had been through stories you heard from Hyeyoon, how when they were little, he often made her cry because he would shoot down her big ideas and as they grew up, their only commonality was their quiet disdain for their father.

If you were being honest, a small part of you initially resented him and how fast he seemingly moved on, having returned to class just days after her body had been discovered and continuing on with his role in the Social Club as the treasurer. Meanwhile, you were bedridden, sick to your stomach, vomit threatening to crawl up your esophagus at any point in time while he was probably laughing with his buddies about what ridiculously expensive items they would buy for the next event.

Yet, after overhearing his conversation with his father, you realized that maybe he wasn’t okay, that he had been suffering just as much as you, if not more. Clearly, he was more upset than he was letting on and surely he knew something that you didn’t. It was settled. Tomorrow, you would talk to Jihoon and ask if he’d want to help you in figuring out what happened to Hyeyoon.

The sound of Headmaster Lee clearing his throat brought you back to reality. The man was small and stout, much like his son, though less muscley and more wrinkly—you could certainly see the resemblance that ran in the family. He had moved standing from his previous spot by the window and now sitting in the leather chair behind his oak wood desk on which he placed his elbows, clasping his hands together and looking at you through his wire-rimmed glasses.

Clearing his throat once more, he said your name with a certain firmness, the hairs on your arms standing up as you anxiously awaited the words that would come out of his mouth. “As you know, being a scholarship student is an…impressive feat. Clearly you have been able to work hard and earn your way into this school,” he spoke, though a part of you had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation would go. He continued, “But of course once you’re here, it doesn’t mean you can stop working hard. You understand that right?”

You nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I understand the… incident… from this past weekend was traumatic for you, and we want to give you the time you need to grieve.” You weren’t sure how the headmaster could be so indifferent right now. If anything, he should have been grieving now, but just like Jihoon, he came straight to work that following Monday, completely unfazed. Guess it ran in the family, huh? “However, you need to attend class and maintain the 3.75 GPA minimum if you wish to keep your scholarship.”

Fuck off, is what you wanted to say, but instead, your head just moved back and forth in acknowledgement. You ended up zoning out for the rest of the meeting because honestly, whatever the headmaster had to say, it just wasn’t important. Now, all you could think about was what Jihoon had been saying to his father earlier.

“Do you have any questions?” he finally finished.

“Headmaster Lee,” you cut in suddenly, “Have… have you heard any news about Hyeyoon?”

An exasperated sigh left his lips and you were sure it was because he was reminded of the conversation he’d had with his son just moments before you came in. There was a long pause as he scrambled to find the right words to say. He sighed again, this time his shoulders dropping and his eyes turning elsewhere. “Just worry about your grades for now. If you need counseling, you know our counselor is available to scholarship students as well, right?”

Another nod.

“Okay, well let’s worry about the things we can control, okay? I trust that you’ll have no problems catching up, but if you do, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

It might help if you tell me what happened to my best friend, asshole. With that, you pressed your lips into a tight line—your attempt to seem pleasant—stood up from the hardwood chair that your ass had been stuck in for the last however many painstaking minutes, and you left his office, feeling his stare burn into your back like lasers.

———

You found your eyes glazing over as you stared at the forest green chalkboard, whatever notes your calculus teacher had written turning into a dusty white mess by now. It was hard to focus on school (not that you’d had much luck with that recently anyway) now that you were thinking about what to say to Jihoon. As soon as class ended, you would find him and talk. But… talk about what, exactly? What would his reaction be to you proposing to him that you wanted to dig into his sister’s death? Surely, based on the conversation you accidentally overheard with his father, he’d have to say yes, right?

“Absolutely not.”

“But Jihoon—”

You felt his fingers constrict around your arm as he pulled you close to him, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but stay out of my family’s business.”

You wanted to fight him, to tell him that she wasn’t just his family, but yours, too. Maybe not by blood, but certainly by choice, and that should have been enough to qualify you to know what happened. But given his stone cold expression as he pulled away to look you in the eyes, you could tell that he didn’t think of you as anyone but a friend, maybe even just a roommate. He loosened his grip around you before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, turning to return to the club.

Oh, that’s right.

For a moment, you had forgotten you were in their “lair.” It was actually called the Board Room, a special room meant only for the 17K members (you could only imagine everyone’s surprise when you barged into the room demanding to talk to Jihoon), where they would meet and discuss who knows what. Despite it being intended for meetings, you couldn’t help but think these fuckers were bougie as fuck, but then again, this was the Academy that you were talking about.

Though you had to admit, the room was nice. When you barged in, Jihoon immediately pulled you to the opposite end of the room by the arched window. It was huge with two slightly smaller, yet still large, windows adjacent to the edges of the main one. It overlooked the courtyard, a selling point of the school and also your favorite part about the campus. In the middle was a grand marble fountain with a statue of Apollo dead center to represent wisdom and knowledge (remember that motto? Scholarship and Integrity of the Highest Honor? Yeah, that one.) Surrounding the fountain was grey stone that seemed to span for miles, creating a small plaza of sorts, encompassed within rose bushes. You found yourself staring at the fountain where you and Hyeyoon used to sit between classes, laughing and taking in the crisp autumn air before heading back inside to resume your studies.

You missed her.

Turning your attention back to the room, you realized you had probably overstayed your welcome—though, to be fair, you weren’t exactly welcomed in the first place. Yet if someone didn’t want you there, they certainly didn’t seem to make a fuss about it, as the other members didn’t glance in your direction, not even once. They were too engulfed in their own activities to spare you their attention, but that was fine by you. On one side of the room was a bookcase that was built into the wall, spanning from the floor to the ceiling, the shelves lined with leather-bound and hardback books with gold embossed along the spines. Along the other side of the wall were black-and-white portraits of each of the chair members, all thirteen of them dressed not in the usual uniforms, but in dark, sleek suits that were perfectly tailored to fit their shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice how eerily solemn they looked in their photos, the kind that kids years from now would say their ghosts haunt the halls of the academy. It was the kind of face that looked like they were harboring some deep, dark secrets.

Currently, only half of the members were there and you recognized most of them. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with six chairs on either side and a single chair at the heads of the table. You assumed the head was where the president sat, Choi Seungcheol. Seungcheol was a year above you which meant you had never crossed paths, and you never planned on it. You had only really known of him by word of mouth, specifically Hyeyoon’s mouth. Not many people scared her, but he had a coldness to him that she found hard to get through. And you couldn’t blame her because he was scary. His long, pitch-black hair often covered his eyes, his demeanor always grave and humorless. His physical build wasn’t any less intimidating either—he had broad shoulders and arms that you swore probably ripped through his uniform so many times he had to get two sizes up just because it was becoming too much of a hassle to get it tailored weekly. Simply put, you did not fuck with Choi Seungcheol, especially when it came to the members of the Social Club. Though he was cold to outsiders, he was known to be protective of his boys, something you found to be incredibly problematic and, well, cringey to say the least.

Seungcheol was standing on the opposite corner of the room talking to Yoon Jeonghan, his vice president. If you didn’t know much about Seungcheol, there was little to nothing that you knew about Jeonghan, only that he had bleached his hair after losing some stupid bet. But even with his fried platinum hair, people called him “The Angel,” because no matter how you looked at him, he really had the face of an angel. High cheekbones, soft eyes, yet all of that was offset by the devilish grin he’d sometimes don. Irony in its truest form. Like Seungcheol, he was also a year above you, but you’d hear the girls and guys swarm whenever he walked down the hallways, the sunlight from the windows hitting him perfectly as he combed his fingers through his hair, flashing that lazy yet mesmerizing smile at the crowd.

With the two of them was another guy in their year, someone you recognized as Joshua Hong, the secretary. He was in charge of keeping track of the thirty something other members of the Social Club and ensuring the code in which they were supposed to swear by was always up to date. It was also his responsibility to report to the headmaster and dean with details of what the group has been up to. Not only that, he was also first violin in the orchestra, co-captain of the debate team, and the so-called “Gentleman” of the school, a nickname he had earned due to his, well, gentle nature. You could put this boy through the worst day of his life, but at the end of it, he would still smile at you when he passed through the halls, his large doe eyes creasing at the corners. He was your textbook definition of ‘perfect,’ the kind of boy people would want to bring home to their mothers who, in turn, would love and adore him, treating him as their son-in-law.

To the far left of the room, your right, were a couple guys hunched over a foosball table, the players all carved from marble. Bougie as fuck, you noted. One of them was insanely tall, with shoulders that spanned further than the Great Wall and gorgeous bronze skin, he had a jawline so sharp you swore he was carved from marble, too. Kim Mingyu. His focus was zeroed in on the small stone that swept past his players, his eyebrows furrowed as his exposed forearms flexed when he pulled the metal poles towards himself. You swallowed. Now that you saw him up close, it was understandable why anyone would fall head over heels for him. He was hot, and him being in that white dress shirt with the top few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up didn’t do much to disprove that fact. He was a modern Adonis, beautiful in all ways, and to add to his beauty, he was also extremely talented in art. He had an eye for design which aptly made him the Social Club’s chair of design. He was in charge of creating posters and eye-catching social media posts, and really anything that had to do with getting people to come to events, it was all him.

Across from him was Seokmin, the chair of philanthropy. Seokmin also happened to be your classmate and friend, one of the few members of 17K whom you knew well. Based on what he had told you in the past, his role was to reach out to charities and host events to raise money for them. You found it strange, honestly, this idea of paying your way into this club just to do good in the world. How many of their members actually cared about any of the charity work the Social Club did? Though, admittedly, they had done a lot for numerous groups, among them cancer organizations and organizations for…the less fortunate. Despite this irony, if there was anyone suited for this specific position, it was Lee Seokmin with the heart of absolute gold. This boy could do no wrong, and he, like the rest of the members, also happened to be insanely beautiful. He had a smile that literally lit up the whole room whenever he laughed, and a warm look to him that was always inviting. Without fail, he always offered to walk you back directly to your dormitory’s entrance even though it was only a few minutes from the library after your study sessions would run later than expected. Seokmin was a good friend.

Your attention was now drawn to the door which you had barged through earlier, in walking Wonwoo, the chair of academics. If anyone in the executive board rivaled Mingyu’s beauty, it was Jeon Wonwoo. He always looked serious, though not as intimidating as Seungcheol, the wire-rimmed glasses helping to soften his appearance. As the chair of academics, it was Wonwoo’s responsibility to ensure the members of the club maintained a 3.0 GPA throughout the semesters to uphold the Social Club’s credibility with the headmaster and dean. You had often seen him in the library, his nose buried in a book. Or several. If not for his status in this…elite brotherhood…you might have assumed he was just another nerd, someone much like you who tended to keep their head down and keep to themselves. Even at events, you rarely saw him socialize with anyone other than the other members of the executive board, a testament to just how anti-social he was.

“Alright, it’s almost time to get started. Where is everyone?” Seungcheol’s low, gravely voice broke you out of your thoughts, your attention now turning to the cold upperclassman across the room. You supposed now was probably a good time for you to slip out quietly—

“What are you still doing here?” Jihoon asked, standing in the doorway. Suddenly, the eyes of the boys who previously hadn’t even registered your existence were now on you like blinding spotlights. Your cheeks and ears grew warmer with every minute, needles pricking your spine as you grew more anxious to be perceived.

“I…I was just leaving,” you managed to utter. Your legs seemed to have a mind of their own as you hastened towards the door with urgency to escape. Just as you were about to turn the brass handle of the door, it flung open, a familiar laugh ringing in your ears. You froze in your tracks and looked up at the tall boy, though he wasn’t quite as tall as Mingyu. His smiling face turned into one of surprise when he looked down on you, your eyes momentarily fixated on the moles above his lips which were now agape.

Jun.

chapter two ↦

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