#i swear i started college like yesterday
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i’m starting to think about my thesis and oh my god what the fuck why do i actually need to start thinking and planning this where has the time gone
#i swear i started college like yesterday#i should not be starting to seriously plan my thesis film#times gone way to fast please
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tattoo artist- Leeknow
(Warnings: smut! Leeknow x reader, slight age gap, oral, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill, tattoo gun, hair pulling, mentions of pain, semi public sex, good old fashion doggy style 😛😛)
Summary: leeknow is your tattoo artist that you’ve been crushing on for a while, but he’s never made a move. So obviously, you decide to get a tattoo in a slightly scandalous spot and inevitably things get steamy
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You sit on the chair eagerly, holding the piece of paper in your hand. It’s been 15 minutes since you came, where is he?
“Are you nervous?” you swear you feel your whole demeanor change when you hear his voice.
You scoff, “Have I ever been nervous?”
“You were the first time.” Minho smirks playfully.
You don’t remember the first time as vividly as he does. He remembers it as if it was yesterday.
He remembers his world stopping when you walked in. You were so captivating to him. You wore a leather skirt with fishnets, and a cropped tank top that complimented your belly button piercing. Your hair was black and blonde at the time, roots grown out but still pretty. Your eyes were starry and nervous, showing the design you wanted on your left arm for the first tattoo you’d ever gotten. You were shy at first, but then opened up pretty quickly, talking his ear off. Explaining how long you had wanted a tattoo, and it was hard to narrow down the choices for your first one. He knew you’d be back after proclaiming your love and interest in tattoos, but he didn’t expect so soon. You’d come back a week later for another. It was then when you told him you were excited to start college the following week. All his possible plans on asking you out vanished with that, given that you were 18 and he was 22 at the time.
Well it’s three years later, and who knows how many times you’ve been here. Minho expected to have a fun time like usual, chatting away with you, also expecting the familiar disappointment that would follow when you left. What he DIDN’T expect was you wanting a tattoo on your chest that required your shirt to be off.
“Um, well you’d need to take your shirt off..do you want me to get a girl to do this instead?” He hoped you didn’t see how red his ears were.
“No, why would I? I trust you the most, and it’s not like I’m getting naked or anything”
Yet.
He hesitantly nods, instructing you shyly to remove your shirt. This usually wouldn’t be a problem, since Minho finds himself mature. But his attraction towards you is what stands out among the rest of the customers. And he feels guilty for it, given the age gap. You’re 21 and he’s 25, which doesn’t seem that big of a deal to most but the fact that he’s known you since you were technically a teenager amplifies his guilt.
Despite his worries, and your black lace bra, things weren’t very awkward. You both talked as usual, enjoying the time you had since it had been a while. I mean, it's been three years and they're only so many tattoos you want, so inevitably your visits have slowed down over the years. At some point in your rambling, you ask, “Have you ever had a psychotic ex girlfriend?”
He simply shakes his head. “Oh really? Not even like a jealous one?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.” He states as if it’s the most normal thing for a gorgeous 25 year old man to have never had a girlfriend.
“YOU WHAT?” you could not contain your shock.
He chuckles softly, “Why so surprised?” He’s still focused on his task at hand.
“Well for starters, you’re gorgeous, and also you’re kind and funny, what else would anyone want?” His laugh was breathier than he wanted it to be, and you definitely catch the pink hue dusting his cheeks.
“Maybe, but I’m also a tattoo artist who didn’t graduate college.”
“I think the tattoo artist thing is dreamy.” You pause, “And hot.”
His breath audibly hitches. “I, thank you.”
Truth is you’ve been pining after Minho for forever. You flirt with him constantly, and it obviously has an effect on him, so you assumed he had a girlfriend since he never made a move. But even so, you always secretly hoped he was single. And maybe you let your delusions get the best of you, because you scheduled the latest appointment possible, and picked your most flattering bra for him to see. Your plaid skirt was short too, knee high socks complimenting your thighs.
“Any plans or ideas for the next tattoo?” Minho asks, desperate to change the subject.
“I dunno, I’m kinda running out of ideas.”
“Damn, I’d miss my favorite customer.”
“Well, maybe we should go for coffee sometime?” He pauses his movements, obviously flustered, but also deep in thought of what his response should be.
“You know I can’t, but I’m flattered regardless.” Minho failed to hide his disappointment in his voice.
“Why, can’t date customers or what?”
He laughs a bit, “No, have you seen this place? We don’t really have rules.”
You laugh with him, “Okay so why? Am I not pretty or?”
That wasn’t very funny to him. “No, you’re breathtaking.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, yet he doesn’t feel a single trace of regret. “It’s just, the age gap.” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Aren’t you 25?”
“Yeah.”
You couldn’t help giggling at him. “Oh please Minho, I’ve been on dates with way older than you.” His eyes dart up at you. “What? How much older?”
You shrug, “Doesn’t matter, go out with me?”
He turns off the tattoo gun and sets it next to him, deep in thought.
You suddenly wrap your legs around him to bring him closer, “Please?”, you watch his eyes flutter shut as you comb his hair with your fingers. You didn’t dare make another move. You needed him to take the next step. He caught on to this quickly, given the fact that you’ve had your fingers and legs wrapped around him for what felt like forever, and have made no further effort to act on the obvious tension between the two of you. Despite your persuasion, he still felt guilty. But his judgment was clouded by your hot breath fanning his cheeks.
You nearly zone out taking in his features, but quickly brought back by Minho closing the gap between the two of you.
His lips were so soft. He kissed just like he did his tattoos, calm and precise, concentrated on doing everything the best way possible. He bites your bottom lip softly, granting himself access to push his tongue in your mouth. He tastes so sweet it was insane.
You whine softly, tugging at his shirt. Minho pulls away from you for a second, pulling off his shirt, then quickly attaching his lips once more. His lips trail down your jaw towards your neck as you whimper. You hiss when his chest accidentally comes in contact with your new (unfinished) tattoo.
He pulls away worried, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”’
You shyly shake your head, “I liked it.” He raises his eyebrows at you, “I liked the pain, feels nice.” He stares at you, his concerned expression morphing into a devilish smirk.
“Oh really?” He touches you again, groping your breast slightly, barely pressing against the tattoo but still enough to cause a pleasurable thrill.
Minho kisses you again but with much more force this time, biting your lip rather harshly, earning a deep moan from you. His hand slowly inches up your thighs teasingly, searching for the hem of your underwear. He pulls away abruptly to look at you, and then pulls your skirt up. He scoffs when he finds that you indeed were not wearing anything under your skirt.
“You’re crazy.” He laughs, shaking his head, not really trying to hide that his face was bright ass red.
“I’m crazy for you.” you pull him closer, missing his lips on yours. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Cringe.”, you look at him in disbelief, about to protest but immediately distracted by his hand reaching down to cup your heat. You feel yourself beginning to fall apart for him right then and there.
“You're so wet.” He flashes you a toothy grin while running his fingers up and down your folds. You don’t respond, too focused on the fact that his hands were finally touching you, and this wasn’t a dream.
You’d often daydream about his hands alone. You loved staring at his hands while he held that tattoo gun, veiny and big, and precise in every movement. You’d think about all the ways his hands could move precisely, and not with the tattoo gun.
Your thoughts are cut short when Minho's head is in between your legs. “Fuck.”, you whisper, the way his dough eyes are looking up at you, half for consent and half for amusement was enough to make you finish right there. Nonetheless, you power through.
Minho licks a long, slow stripe up your folds. When he meets your clit, he circles his tongue slowly over it, before going back down to tease your entrance.
The way he eats you out is heaven. He uses a kissing motion around your clit, rather than just applying pressure or sucking on it (he does that too). You whine, pushing his face impossibly closer to you, tugging at his hair begging him to keep going. Your legs shake as you feel your high approaching, Minho gets the message and speeds up his actions. Out of nowhere he pushes in a finger, pumping it in and out of you quickly. This tips you over the edge and before you know it your thighs are shaking violently, closing around his head as you cum with a silent cry, back arched in the air.
Minho cleans you up with his tongue, ignoring your whines from overstimulation. Eventually he stops and looks up at you, and fuck if it isn’t the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen. His lips parted, pupils blown out, and you don’t miss your juices dripping down his chin. His lustful gaze is working you up all over again.
You pull him into another heating kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You hand trails down to his hard on, palming him softly. He groans deeply into the kiss, playing with the clasp of your bra until it falls off your shoulders. Minho pulls from this kiss to peel the rest of your bra off, letting out a shaken exhale staring at your bare chest. It’s not long before he has his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand around your other breast. You enjoy this for a moment, before playing with his belt until you manage to get it off.
You stand up, taking Minho by surprise. He almost thought you were leaving until you get on your knees. His breath is shaky and he watches you pulling out his member. You practically drool at the sight of it. It wasn't too long, but longer than most. And what he didn’t have in length was made up for by how fucking thick it was. You wrap your hand around it, pumping steadily.
Soon enough, you take him all in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Luckily he did not notice your impatience, too immersed in the feeling of your mouth around him. You bob your head up and down on him, alternating between swirling your tongue around his tip and sucking it. He eventually begins thrusting his hips, meeting your bobbing motions until you feel him twitch in your mouth and he pulls you off him. You can’t help but pout up at him and he just chuckles, pulling you off the ground. He kisses you briefly before bending you over the tattoo chair.
You whimper as he teases your folds, dragging his cock up and down them. You feel his tip teasing your entrance, your cunt leaking in anticipation.
“Wait,” he breaths, “Do you have a condom?”
“No? Why would I have a condom? You're the guy here.”
“Yeah well you’re the one who expected this to happen!”
“I did not!”
“You literally didn’t wear any underwear.”
“I’m on the pill.”
You hear him sigh, “Are you sure?”
“Minho just fuck me already before I ride you instead.”
Despite your affirmation, he was still hesitant. Pushing in as slowly as possible, your warm cunt enveloping him earns a somewhat high pitched moan from him.
You want to tease him, you really do, but you’re already a fucking mess and he hasn’t moved. The stretch is absolutely delicious, and he’s reaching every spot perfectly.
He begins moving steady, hands gripping your hips. You’re loud and he loves it. Your moans encouraging him to move faster, he builds up his pace. “Fuck fuck fuck! Like that please!” You babble, already feeling your consciousness slip away.
“Mmm you like it rough right? You like it when I fuck you dumb?.” you can only nod, incredibly turned on by his words.
Knock knock.
You both pause, and you feel reality coming back to you when you hear a voice from the other side of the door.
“Hey Minho, sorry to interrupt.”
Fuck. It had completely slipped your mind that yeah maybe there weren't really any other customers there but there were obviously workers. And you recognized her voice, it was Yuri, the one who always answered your calls and scheduled your appointments. God this was embarrassing.
“I’m leaving for the day, so if you could lock up when you’re uh, done, that’d be great.”
You could not be more mortified in this moment.
“Okay sounds good, thanks Yuri.” Minho yells from the other side.
You both wait until you hear the bell from the front door, indicating she had left.
“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face further in the chair. Minho laughs in disbelief, “You wore no underwear and THAT'S embarrassing?”
all you do is whine and mumble a ‘shut up’ before he’s fucking you again without warning, this time pulling your hair. You yelp at the sting, eyes rolling back to your head.
“Thought you wanted an audience baby? Thought you wanted everyone to know I was fucking you so well?” You can’t respond, you're too close to your climax already. Minho takes note of this and picks up the pace, thrashing into you without mercy.
“Oh my god I’m so close please!” You cry, tears of pleasure spilling down your cheeks. Minho just grunts, snaking his fingers down under you to rub your clit.
You see white as you cum for the second time tonight, walls clamping down on Minho, causing him to cum shortly after you.
You both lay there for a while, catching each other's breath. You jolt up when you hear him walking away, fearing that he was going to leave, only to find him returning with a warm towel to clean you up. You’re silent as he cleans you up, just watching him with adoration.
“So,” he clears his throat, “Should we go somewhere now?”
You smile, “My place?”
He chuckles, “I was thinking dinner?”
-AHH I had sm fun writing this!! Expect a sequel bc omg I cannot stop thinking ab tattoo artist bf lee know? Like? Anywaysss pls lmk your thoughts! I’m not great at writing but I love to do it, so I’d rlly like tips on how I can improve!!
#kpop fanfic#stray kids smut#stray kids#lee know#stray kids x reader#lee minho#minho x reader#skz minho#minho smut
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PEOPLE TOLD ME ABOUT THE FLAMES, I COULDN’T SEE THROUGH THE SMOKE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
cw some kind of college au/boarding school au? this used to be for rodeo station and now just... exists on its own, friends to lovers, megumi has toji and satoru as father figures so are we surprised that he’s a bully and doesn’t really grow out of that phase… anyway, apologies to muta and miwa, 1.3k words
Nobara makes a poor effort to stifle her laughter as Kokichi stomps up to stand in front of you, hair and clothes drenched in chocolate milk, shoes sloshing with each step, and the bandage on the side of his cheek peeling from the wetness.
When you look up at him, you’re unimpressed, and unsurprised, so you resume annotating your lecture notes as if you weren’t interrupted. If Kokichi wanted to stand in a puddle of dripping milk, then so be it—you should have finished your notes yesterday, and you couldn’t get through your other tasks without catching up first.
“Look, I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have kept bothering you for your number when you’d already said no,” Kokichi starts, wiping dripping milk from his chin, “Now, will you please call off your guard dog.”
You don’t reply immediately, focused on finishing the last paragraph of the page, much to Kokichi’s dismay, and Nobara’s amusement. He huffs at your silence, frustrated and humiliated, but there’s nothing for him to say or do until you respond. Maybe that’s something he should have considered when he kept trying to talk to you in class. Still, even now, you’re not ignoring Kokichi to embarrass him or string him along; you just want to finish your godforsaken anthropology homework.
“You seem to be under the impression that I can make Megumi start or stop doing anything,” you sigh, put your highlighter down, and tiredly look up at Kokichi, “But I regret to inform you that you’re wrong.”
Kokichi’s nose scrunches in disbelief, an angered hand coming to wave in front of his face, but his dripping clothes result in splashes to his face—and further laughter from Nobara. He sighs out of frustration, trying to put away his pride, but Nobara’s giggling and your nonchalant attitude are really making it difficult for him to take this in stride.
“Okay, you’re fucking with me—and I deserve it, alright? But, Todo already gave me a fucking lecture, Mai won’t look at me, and Megumi is going to rip and stain every single shirt I own at this point.”
“That sounds like your problem,” Nobara snickers, rolling her eyes when Kokichi gives her a glare.
“I'd love to help, Muta, but this is out of my control,” you loll, capping your marker, “Maybe try apologizing to Megumi instead of dripping chocolate milk over notes and shoes.”
“Eh? The hell am I apologizing to him for?”
“You’re the one who pissed him off—how should I know?” you sigh, sliding your pens and markers into your bag, and closing your folder.
Nobara pipes in to taunt, “You’d better figure it out soon, though. I hear they’re serving spaghetti tomorrow, and that definitely stains.”
You swear you hear Kokichi growl, but it only makes Nobara laugh harder. The two of them together is a bad combination—Kokichi is easily aggravated, and Nobara easily aggravates. You’re certain that if Megumi weren’t already on his ass, Nobara would have stepped in to bully him just for the fun of it.
Still, you’d rather not have to testify on either of their behalf, so you bid Kokichi a goodbye, offering him your best advice about cleaning milk stains out of white shirts, and drag Nobara by the arm before she can make another quick quip to finally make him snap.
She’s still laughing at Kokichi’s expense all the way back to your dorm, “As much as I like seeing Megumi pummel Muta, he’s definitely gonna get written up, at the very least, if he keeps it up. Just tell him you’re not mad about it anymore, and he’ll piss off.”
You stuff your hands into your pockets, “I don’t control megumi. I didn’t tell him to egg Muta’s car, and pour milk all over him. ”
“Like hell you don’t,” Nobara scoffs, “Kokichi was right about one thing—Megumi’s a doberman on a leash and you’re his owner.”
“I didn’t even tell him that Kokichi kept asking for my number. I’m pretty sure Todo told Yuuji, and Yuuji told Megumi.”
“Yeah, that’s almost worse,” Nobara huffs, “He’s just moved to protect you out of undying loyalty—it must be nice to have a knight in shining armor. Does he call you ‘my liege,’ when you’re alone? He might as well bow down and kiss your shoes with the way he worships the ground you walk on.”
You know Nobara is teasing. The rhetoric that you have influence on Megumi isn’t new to you, but it’s always confusing for you to hear. You’ve known Megumi since grade school, and one thing you’re certain of is that he does things of his own conviction, and when he’s decided something, there’s little anybody can do to convince him otherwise. He’s the true definition of steadfast, and sometimes you wonder if his beliefs have inadvertently made him gain masochistic tendencies, because you’ve seen Megumi suffer in pain just to prove a point.
“Megumi’s his own person, and he’s not easily influenced,” you chuckle, “If anything, he’s more of an attack dog—he bites whenever he sees something he doesn’t like.”
“In any case, he’s your dog,” Nobara shrugs. She pauses for a moment, skipping to catch up to you with a scrunch to her face, “I change my mind though, he’s definitely not scary enough to be a doberman. What are the puffy ones—the really small ones that yap a bunch?”
“Pomeranians?”
She lights up—“Yeah, that’s way more fitting! Plus, he’s got spiky hair like those little mutts, a really bratty, spoiled one too. Gojo probably kept him in his Birkin as a kid.”
You giggle as Nobara searches for an image to compare to one of Megumi. She goes as far as to make a collage and send it in your group chat for approval, instantly getting a rave reaction from Yuuji, and predictably, no response from Megumi.
Nobara walks you back halfway to your dorm, leaving you on your own to head to the gym to meet up with Yuuji. When you get back to your room, you’re not surprised to already see Megumi inside, sitting snugly on your worn-in couch with a book in hand. It’s Wednesday, so he only had morning classes, and prefers to spend his afternoon studying in solace, usually taking advantage of your larger, empty room to get his work done. He gives you a small wave, enraptured in his reading, and you know better than to try and disturb him, so you take your place on the opposite side of the couch with the remainder of your notes in hand, finally having the peace and quiet to finish your annotations.
Megumi finishes his chapter before you’re done, but he waits for you, quietly scrolling on his phone so as not to interrupt you. You don’t face him when you speak, keeping your eyes on your notes, and simply stating, “Kokichi apologized.”
You hear him hum. you know he’s looking at you, but you don’t meet his gaze, and do your best to bite back a smile before he asks, “You forgive him?”
You finish your annotations with a final asterisk at the bottom of your page, so you cap the marker, and finally turn to face Megumi. He doesn’t ask a second time, even as you silently observe him, even if your smile is confusing to him.
“I wasn’t ever really upset,” you explain, “It was annoying, but he wasn’t harassing me or anything.”
He hums again, but it’s not agreeing. “Tsumiki is gonna get mad if you get suspended.”
Megumi calls your bluff with his hum this time, and you sigh. Tsumiki won’t get mad, because Megumi would never get suspended, not as long as Gojo is around as headmaster.
Megumi turns his body inward, raising an arm to rest his elbow against the cushion of the couch. He lolls his head to rest against his palm, cheek squished, and almost mischievous glimmer in his eye. In this light, you see Nobara’s argument—with sleep-tousled hair and expectant eyes, Megumi looks an awful lot like a puppy waiting for a command.
It’s cute, until you realize that Megumi is awaiting your command. Is he?—why would he, he’s never been known to listen, and yet, you’re tempted to see if you truly do have him on some proverbial leash, like everyone else seems to believe.
“Megumi,” you call, softly, “He’s learned his lesson, and I’m fine, alright? Leave him alone.”
Megumi blinks slowly. His features soften, only for a moment, before he’s turned away from you to pick up his book again. He doesn’t respond verbally, doesn’t touch on the topic for the rest of the evening that you both spend studying in your room, but the following day, you walk past Kokichi and Miwa heading into their chemistry lab, and notice a distinct lack of milk or food residue on his clothing or in his hair, so there isn’t anything more to be said.
Megumi is waiting outside of your lecture hall after your last class of the day, offering you a carton of strawberry milk—unopened, and un-thrown. You accept it, reaching up to ruffle his hair as a thank you, and you’re surprised when you feel him move into your touch. He dips his head down a bit further, gently knocking it against yours before straightening up with a sly smile. He nods his head, wordlessly, and turns towards your dorm, ready to walk you back.
You follow, dazed, as you stab the straw into your milk. You’re a half-step behind Megumi, head clouded with confusing new daydreams about the boy in front of you, and now you can’t help but to wonder if you’re the one left to follow Megumi’s whim, or if he’s just pulling you by his own leash.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi fluff#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios#gojo x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk fake texts#jjk smau
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[part two] we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta
word count: 11k
warnings: swearing, drinking (but it’s legal!), mentions of masturbating
summary: two idiots that are bad at confrontation and don’t want things to be awkward somehow make things awkward anyways.
more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommates!au, childhood friends, n*oya makes an appearance in this part, soft yuuta taking care of drunk reader
part two: “i’m not ready, eyes heavy now”
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[mai] : do you want me to come kidnap you? just say we have plans
[maki] : you don’t need to kidnap her. she’s a big girl. She can handle talking about her feelings. can’t you, (y/n)?
[(y/n)] : no i don’t think i can :’( pls come rescue me, idk what to do.
[mai] : maki where are the keys i’m going over there
[maki] : the fuck you are, stay away from my car.
[maki] : i say this with love, (y/n). get out of bed and just talk to him. it’s not like you boned. A little kissing never hurt anyone. your friendship is stronger than that, don’t you think?
[(y/n)] : …it was a lot of kissing…
[mai] : did he get a boner?
[maki] : you’ve been friends a long time. and he kissed you back, didn’t he? he probably enjoyed it.
[(y/n)] : i think he enjoyed it… idk… i’m rlly embarrassed about it.
[mai] : if he got a boner he enjoyed it.
[maki] : ur being gross :p
[(y/n)] : but what if he just got carried away and it didn’t mean anything and he’s upset with me?
[maki] : did he say he was upset with you?
[(y/n)] : … no.
[mai] : he’s probs pent up now. you should seduce him again.
[maki] : then all this talk is pointless. go TALK to him and then if it’s bad we’ll come swoop you up and take you out for the day. deal?
[(y/n)] : bed is comfy… and safe…
[mai] : and if we don’t hear from u we’ll assume u seduced him again
[maki] : you got this :)
(y/n) sighed as she turned off her phone, dropping it onto her mattress as she glared up at her ceiling. The light from the sun had long since poured in through the window, having woken her up hours ago. She wasn’t surprised to see so many texts in her groupchat with the Zen’in twins after Toge blabbed about what he thought he saw when he returned to the apartment late last night.
Normally she would’ve ignored their pestering and turned down any assumptions they may have made. But she needed advice from her closest friends on what to do now. She had yet to leave the safety of her bedroom, knowing Yuuta would be awake and going about his morning routine. Maybe it was silly to be afraid of running into him, but her shame kept her shackled to the bed.
Maki was right, it wasn’t fair to assume how Yuuta would behave today. It was a discredit to the years of friendship under their belts. But then again, making out in a sudden moment of weakness was a blunder on their friendship, too.
Dramatically, she rolled over, planting her face in her pillow and groaning out her frustrations.
When she finally made an appearance, Yuuta’s head shot up from the kitchen table where he’d set up his things to spend the day working on an essay he should’ve started yesterday. Just like yesterday, his focus shifted completely as soon as her door creaked open and she stepped out.
Her eyes widened a bit when they landed on him, as if she was surprised to see him there at all. He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease any nerves she likely had coming into the morning.
“Mornin’,” He hummed, his gaze fixed on her as she lingered in her doorway, seemingly unsure about leaving her room at all. “Made a pot of coffee if you need some”
Yes, caffeine, her body pleaded, and she nodded at him gratefully as she made her way to the kitchen. Even as she grabbed her usual mug out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of coffee into it, she could feel his eyes on her back.
He watches as she shuffles about the kitchen, pouring in her cream and sugar before testing the drink, then repeating the cream and sugar. He smiles to himself as this happens a few more times. She’s not happy with it until it’s color is milky brown, and it surely no longer tastes like coffee at all.
“Thank you” She hums when she takes a longer drink, smiling as it finally tastes perfect.
She turns to him, leaning against the counter and holding her mug carefully in both hands. He gives her a nod, his eyes flickering over her, as though looking for any sign of discontent. He finds none.
“Yeah,” He replies quietly. “You sleep alright?”
(y/n) nods back. “You?”
He shrugs a shoulder, his head moving from side to side with lack of a real answer. Her lips pull into an awkward frown, not knowing what to say now.
She hates that she finds it so hard to speak to him. It had never been like this between them before. They’d never tiptoed around each other, conversation always came naturally. And when they were quiet, the silence was comfortable.
The silence now feels so heavy that her chest aches.
She hates that she’s the reason for the nervous energy buzzing in the air, making her skin prick with goosebumps and her heart beat erratically.
“I, uh, I think I’m gonna go out with the twins later” She forces herself to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind. Even though she hadn’t explicitly made plans with the Zen’ins, she was sure they’d do her this favor.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” She sighs, sounding less convincing by the second. “Probably for drinks, I could really use a drink” She mumbles the last part.
Yuuta chuckles, his smile cracking a little further as his eyes catch the clock on the oven behind her, before looking at her again.
“Not even ten in the mornin’,” He tells her, tilting his head. “Already need to forget today?”
Her face flushes and she tilts her head to stare down at her cup of coffee.
“That’s alright,” Yuuta brushes off her nervousness as best he could. He just wanted her to be at ease, even if that meant pretending nothing happened between them. “I’ve got an essay to keep me company today anyways,” He says, nodding to the scattered textbooks and notebooks before him. “But you’ll let me know if you need a ride, or anything?”
She nods back at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine this time.
“Yeah, I will” She says, and finally makes her way out of the kitchen.
She goes to greet their fish good morning, cooing softly to the thing as it swims about it’s tank excitedly. She gives into it’s begging, sprinkling in the smallest amount of fish flakes as she could, and cheering quietly as he strikes at the little clump of food at the surface of the water. Yuuta tries not to stare as she murmurs and coos to the fish as though it were any other pet, a kitten, or a hamster. But he can’t help the lurch in his heart watching her sweet talk the betta that only had the capacity to care about being hungry. The scene truly was a testament to her character.
She finished her coffee and went about her normal routine without much else to say to him. Yuuta tried not to mind. He tried to focus on his essay and give her space to settle back into what felt normal. He just hoped she’d relax sooner than later. He’d hate to have her feel uncomfortable in her own home.
Shortly after she’d gotten in the shower, he lost focus on his project again and reached for his phone.
[yuuta] : i feel like a total fucking idiot. i think i messed everything up.
[toge] : looked like u guys enjoyed urselves to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
[yuuta] : so not what i meant.
[yuuta] : she can barely talk to me. she only just got out of bed. she seemed so uncomfortable.
[toge] : did she seem mad? maybe she just didn’t know what to say. it is kinda awkward
[yuuta] : i don’t think she’s mad. I think she just regrets it
[toge] : did u bring it up?
[yuuta] : no, i don’t know how
[toge] : well did u try ‘hey we made out and i liked it, what are we?’
[yuuta] : ._.
[toge] : ok taking that as a no.
[toge] : but starting w that is prlly a good idea
[yuuta] : but what if that makes it worse
[yuuta] : what if she doesn’t want anything more and it was just like a one time thing yk
[yuuta] : we both had a bit to drink.
[yuuta] : i think i’m going to have a panic attack.
[toge] : ok slow down for a sec
[toge] : you’re jumping to conclusions, remember? you can’t decide what she’s thinking bcuz you haven’t talked about it.
[toge] : rn what you have control over is what you want to do about it. So for now, just try to focus on that.
[toge] : and ur essay for econ. actually you should put most of your focus on that.
[yuuta] : ok ur right. i’m gonna work on that now.
[yuuta] : thank you. I’ll talk to you about it later.
[toge] : :)
___
Yuuta had never felt the menacing glare of the Zen’in twins fixed on him before. When he opens the door to find them in the hallway, clearly perturbed to be greeted by him rather than the girl they were here to escort for the evening, he felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck.
“Hey guys-”
“Where’s (y/n)?” Maki pushed in first, side stepping Yuuta completely and bee-lining for (y/n’s) bedroom door, which had been shut since she’d been getting ready to go out with them.
Mai gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stepped aside to let her in.
“She’s a bit on edge, don’t worry about her,” She explained her sister’s antics, something she’d grown used to doing. “But how are you doing?”
The simple question didn’t hold it’s usual casual tone. Mai looked genuinely curious to know his answer. In fact, it looked like she was taking pity on him as her brows drew together in concern.
“Uh- fine. I’m fine,” Yuuta stammered over his answer, and quickly made his way towards the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself with. Getting interrogated by Maki and Mai was the last thing his nerves needed right now.
Even if Maki had already barged into (y/n’s) room and shut the door behind her with a slam. He’d perked up at the ruckus, watching the door worriedly, but it remained shut, and he didn’t hear hollering from inside, so he figured all was fine between the two, and Maki was just up to her usual untamed behavior. Mai chuckled to herself.
“Did you want a glass of water? Or something?” Yuuta asked, already filling a cup at the sink.
“Oh no, I’m alright,” Mai shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen table. Her eyes scan over the messy stacks of books and the long extension cord that reaches across the whole room to keep his laptop alive while he works. “You’ve been busy, hm?”
Yuuta chokes, whirling around, not realizing she’d been commenting on his mess at the table. He instantly flushes, especially when Mai raises a brow and her lips curl into a smirk at his reaction.
“Oh- that- yeah,” He coughs to clear the hitch in his throat, hitting his fist to his chest a few times for good measure. “I have an essay that’s due in a week” He explains quietly, certain that she didn’t actually care what he was working on.
Mai only nods, changing the subject before he could bore her with the specifics of the assignment.
“So, what’re your thoughts on the whole thing?”
Yuuta blinks, unsure of what she was really asking. Mai tilts her head at him, knowing he was a smart enough guy that he could figure it out on his own.
“I don’t know…” He sighs, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…”
Mai giggles cutely behind her fingers, as if she’d been watching two kittens playing with a ball of yarn, rather than watch a grown man struggle with the feelings he’d carried for years. Feelings so strong everyone around him knew damn well where his heart lied. It was a cruel laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Yuuta could be so pitifully hilarious sometimes.
“Sorry,” Her apology is empty when he furrows his brow at her. “It’s just… I owe Toge money for this, you know,”
Yuuta’s gawking now, frozen and silent as he waits for further explanation. Had everyone been in on something he hadn’t known about? Was this all some elaborate prank on him?
“I always thought you’d make the first move. Guess Toge knew best this time”
“Wait, you actually bet on- he bet against me?” Yuuta stammered. Mai smiled sweetly.
“Everyone bet against you,” She told him. “Well, everyone but me,” She corrected right away. “Personally, I thought it’d be a whole love confession thing, you know? Like in the movies? I always thought you were the kind of guy that just wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore. After last night I was sure that if (y/n/n) had a little push it’d be enough for you to do something. But it sounds like she initiated, no?”
Yuuta’s head was spinning taking in all of this information at once. Everyone knew? His closest friends, and they bet against him? His face felt hot with embarrassment, and just when he thought this whole thing couldn’t get worse, too. Damn them all for being such a close knit group of friends that nothing was private anymore.
“I… I guess…” He answered the question quietly, unsurely. Truthfully Yuuta wasn’t sure who exactly was at fault for the situation. (y/n) might have brought up the subject, but he was the one who kissed first, wasn’t he? “So… she told you all of it?” He asked.
Mai smirked.
“Sorry, can’t break the girl code,” She says innocently. Yuuta rolls his eyes. Bullshit. She just wanted to yank his chain. “But you’re my friend too,” She reminds him. “So I was just curious what you thought about all this”
Their banter was cut short by (y/n’s) door swinging open, Maki’s voice carrying out into the hall as she exited, nodding for her sister to get up to head out.
(y/n) followed shortly after, a pair of heels in one hand, her other hand occupied trying to secure a bracelet on her wrist. With her focus on awkwardly trying to maneuver the clasp with one free hand, Yuuta was given enough time to stare at her properly.
She’d spent a lot of time holed up in her room, supposedly getting ready, and now he could see just the amount of effort she’d put into doing so. Her hair was done up, styled in perfect soft waves that bounced when she moved, and fell around her shoulders. A simple but pretty dress hung from tiny straps at her shoulders and fell just above her knees. It was her favorite color and one that complimented her very well. Yuuta had been there when she’d found it and claimed it was an ‘impulse buy’, but she’d loved it thoroughly and had worn it regularly. He stared in awe while she struggled with the jewelry and cursed under her breath.
It took him a minute to come back to reality, blinking quickly as if he needed to refocus, before approaching her with an outstretched hand and a small smile. She understood what he was offering from the small action. It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to put on her own jewelry, and she’d often turned to him for help with the dainty clasps.
Sheepishly, (y/n) placed the charm bracelet in the palm of his hand, before holding her wrist out to him. With how close she is he can smell the flowery perfume she’d just applied before coming out of her room. It was sweet and pretty and he swore it flooded his senses like THC, lifting him right off the floor and into the clouds.
“Thank you” She murmurs.
She watches as he carefully lifts the jewelry from both ends, securing the claw clasp between his thumb and index finger gently. A smile lifted at the corners of his lips as the little charms dangled off the silver chain, and he recognized the bracelet.
It was a gift from him. For the first birthday she’d celebrated since moving in together. It wasn’t the most extravagant thing, there were no jewels, the chain was made of silver rather than rose gold or something more expensive and romantic. The charms were a mismatched set of stars and moons, some varying in color, but most of them the same silver as the chain they dangled from. When he’d come across it, Yuuta thought he’d struck gold. It had been the perfect gift. He’d seen it in the window at a jewelry store he’d never looked at twice before, but somehow this little bracelet called to him and he was waltzing right inside and purchasing it at the counter not five minutes later.
The clerk placed it in a little velvet box, which Yuuta took home and carefully wrapped a silky white ribbon around. It had taken some practice to tie the bow just right, but he’d been very proud of his craftsmanship. In the days leading up to her birthday, he was sure he was going to ruin the surprise, he was so giddy with excitement.
Then when the day came, and they were all out with their friends for dinner, he was a wreck. Everyone else’s gifts were so different from his. Maki had given her a nice leather jacket, Mai had given her a handle of her favorite rum, and Toge had given her a new game for their switch. When all that was left was the small gift bag holding Yuuta’s gift, he was chugging his drink as she reached into it with a grin.
The table went silent when she pulled out a tell-tale velvet box, a perfect silk bow tied around it. Yuuta avoided her gaze when her wide eyes turned to him. He’d missed the way her cheeks had warmed up, too embarrassed by the stares from the rest of their friends. ‘Jewelry?’ she’d asked sweetly, before carefully untying the ribbon and propping open the box. She’d gasped, setting the box down carefully before lifting the bracelet from it, admiring each mismatched charm dangling from it.
Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, holding it out for him with one hand, the other wrist on display as she bounced in her seat, prompting him to put it on her. That was the first of many times Yuuta had clasped the gift carefully around her wrist. Conversation between the twins and Toge picked up again as the pair shared a sweet, private moment. Yuuta wasn’t sure why it was so intimate to do such a simple favor for his friend, but his skin burned where it grazed hers as he adjusted the new jewelry for her.
‘It’s beautiful,’ She’d whispered softly, her eyes fond as they gazed into his. ‘I love it so much, thank you, Yuuta’.
As he hooked the claw through the usual hoop she always wore it at, the perfect length to keep it secure on her wrist but still let the little stars loosely dangle, Yuuta couldn’t help but think about that first time he’d put it on for her.
“There,” He hummed when it hung perfectly around her wrist. “You’re all set now”
His eyes lingered on the bracelet and it’s meaning that he’d never quite worked up the courage to tell her about, before flickering to meet her soft expression. There was something in her eyes that told him she was trying to say something, but she didn’t budge on it. Her lips curved into a small smile as she nodded at him in gratitude.
“So we’re ready?” Maki cleared her throat, drawing both of their attention over to where she had her arms crossed and a brow raised.
(y/n) was quick to shuffle away from Yuuta, sliding on her heels and making sure the straps were adjusted just right at her ankles before giving Maki a wide smile.
“Ready!”
She leaves with a wave and a sweet call of good luck on finishing his essay. Yuuta lingers at the door, even long after the three have left for the night. The creeping feeling that he’s an idiot plaguing his mind again.
It wasn’t like he could tell her not to go, that wasn’t fair. It also didn’t seem right to tag along, he wasn’t a total moron after all, he knew that she needed some space tonight with her girlfriends to collect herself and get over what happened between them.
But god, he just hoped she wasn’t going to get over it by finding someone else to distract her from it.
___
Rather than go to the usual bar that the group would spend free evenings at, Maki and Mai had promised an all new experience for the night. Mai talked up the place animatedly, all bright eyes and movements of her perfectly manicured hands, while Maki drove and chastised her sister for being such an annoying passenger.
The longer (y/n) spent around them, the more her nerves began to settle and she finally gave in to the excitement of going out for the night. It had been a while since they’d done something just the three of them. Girl time was hard to come by, and often only happened in their groupchat. Toge and Yuuta had a way of wiggling into their plans, not that they really complained about it. It was nice to have a close and comfortable group of friends.
But right now, (y/n) needed two things. One, time with her favorite twins that always scored free drinks wherever they went. And two, the free drinks that the pair were currently scoring as they chatted up the bartender.
(y/n) watched in amusement as Maki slid her glasses onto the top of her head pulling her hair away from her pretty face, and Mai leaned over the bar on her elbows, her low cut top doing all the work for her even while she undoubtedly flirted with the tattooed man behind the bar. The high top table (y/n) sat at with all of their purses- it wasn’t like the Zen’ins needed their wallets- was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the conversation happening, but she recognized the sweet, alluring smile on Mai’s red painted lips. It was a flirty look, and held absolutely no bite behind the bark. It was just a well rehearsed dance, and she knew exactly how to use it to get what she wanted.
Admittedly, it had even worked on (y/n) a few times. So she knew that no man was strong enough to withstand it’s power.
Sure enough, the girls were already headed back to the table with three drinks between them, and proud grins on their faces as they snickered between themselves.
“Did a phone number come with these?” (y/n) teased as Maki handed her the extra cocktail. She thanked her with a bright smile, admiring the swirls of color in the drink before she stirred it up.
“Sure did,” Mai says, flashing the napkin between her fingers, the scrawl of numbers in purple ink spread across one side. “I think I might call this one too” She adds excitedly.
Maki and (y/n) share a laugh before the three of them raise their glasses, clinking them together gently.
A few drinks passed and (y/n) had almost forgotten why she’d even wanted to go out tonight. It was so nice to hang out with the Zen’in twins. There was always plenty to gossip about, and especially in a setting like this one, there was only more fuel for their fire.
While Mai went back to order their fourth round, and flirt with the bartender some more, Maki dragged (y/n) out to the dance floor. She knew her well enough to know that three drinks was just the right amount to loosen her up and get her out there without much protest. And just as she thought, (y/n) eagerly followed, hips already swaying to the familiar beat.
“You feelin’ better?” Maki asked, leaning in close enough so she didn’t have to yell as much over the music. Close enough that (y/n) could smell the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since they were in high school.
“I am,” She beamed up at her friend while they danced. “Thank you for taking me out, this is just what I needed”
Maki smiled back at her, relieved to have helped. Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew that this distraction was necessary to clear her mind.
(y/n) and Yuuta had been dancing the dance of friends that hadn’t realized they were infatuated with each other for so long that Maki genuinely couldn’t remember a time when their romantic tension wasn’t all consuming. When they’d decided to move in together, she’d known it was only a matter of time before something changed between them. They all knew, hence the bet with Mai and Toge, that living in close quarters would create a rift at some point.
It sounded like that rift was more of a dive head first into unexplored territory, and (y/n’s) panic text last night that only read ‘s.o.s yuuta and i almost hooked up and i think i’m gonna have a panic attack’ was far more than anything she could expected to happen, but it was amusing nonetheless.
And Maki loved her friends. She loved them so much she was happy to take her out for drinks and dancing in order to relieve some of the awkward tension at home. But her friends were morons, and when this was resolved, she planned to never let them live it down.
Because there was no doubt in her mind that Yuuta loved (y/n) with every fiber of his being. No doubt at all that (y/n) felt just the same for him. She’d been following him around with stars in her eyes since they were children. And Yuuta had never treated anyone the way he treated (y/n)- like she hung the moon and stars, like his entire world revolved around her.
They could be in a crowded room with blasting music and hollering voices, and if (y/n) was speaking, Yuuta was listening to every word with his undivided attention. Maki had seen it, on multiple occasions.
Six drinks and two free rounds of shots from the bartender that had a crush on Mai later, and Maki was struggling to herd her sister and her friend outside and towards the car.
It was very late into the night, and even for a Friday night Maki was ready to crash and get a full night of sleep. She should have known to start the process of leaving an hour early, because since suggesting they square up their minimal tab and heading out, an hour is how long it had taken to get the two remotely close to the door.
Mai was insistent on staying until the place closes- which wasn’t for another three hours- but Maki refused to ditch her sister at a bar at one in the morning with a guy she just met. Free drinks or not, that crossed girl and sister code for her.
(y/n) was a different story. Three-drink (y/n) loosened up enough to dance a bit and mingle just a little. Six-drink-and-two-shots (y/n) was making best friends out of everyone she ran into, whether they wanted to chat or not, she found a reason to hold their attention. One girl had cute boots, some other guy was wearing a tee shirt of a band she’d heard of- not even liked, just heard of- and now she was off again talking to someone near the bathrooms.
“She said she was gonna pee!” Maki barked, and Mai lazily turned her attention towards where Maki was glaring. “Come on, let’s go get her. Again”
Knowing better than to trust Mai to follow, Maki snatches her by the wrist and drags her across the bar with her. Mai finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous, but doesn’t fight with her.
As they grow nearer and can see (y/n’s) animated talking, they also get a better look at who it was that had stolen her attention.
“Hey wait a sec,” Mai stops in her tracks, pulling her arm out of Maki’s grip only to grab her shoulder and maneuver her body until she could follow her exact line of sight. “Is that…?” The name doesn’t come off her tongue, but it doesn’t need to. Maki recognizes the man she’s speaking too instantly.
And she glowers, before speeding off towards the pair at a faster, more determined rate. This time she knows Mai will be hot on her tail.
“Naoya!”
(y/n) and the stranger she’d been talking to both perk up. Recognition flashes in both of them as they see the Zen’in twins stampeding towards them. (y/n) beams, delighted to see her friends. The handsome stranger she’d been conversing with wears a smug look as he smirks at his cousins.
“We’re leaving,” Maki said, putting herself between (y/n) and her distant cousin, staring down at her friend with a grave expression. “Let’s go-”
“I didn’t pee” (y/n) pouts up at her, too out of it to notice the hostility between her friend and the man she’d just met. Maki huffs, narrowing her eyes at her as though to ask ‘really?’. (y/n) bats her eyes up at her.
“I was just keeping (y/n) here company while she waited,” Naoya speaks up.
The Zen’in twins both spun around to glare at him as he spoke. If (y/n) hadn’t been inebriated she may have recognized the icy stares that she’d seen many people cower away from before. Eerily enough when directed at him, he stared back at them with his chin tilted out and a smirk on his face.
“I’m happy to wait with her if you both have somewhere to be?” He suggested.
“As if”
“Eat shit”
Mai and Maki spoke in unison, both of their comments jarring (y/n), who was now shielded behind them like a small child. Naoya lifted his hands in mock surrender, and took a step away from the wall.
He caught eyes with (y/n), confused, naive, drunk (y/n), who tilted her head as he waved goodbye to her. She weakly raised a hand to return the gesture. Maki glared between them both as she followed the interaction.
“You’ve got my number,” He grins, his eyes staying locked on hers even while Maki and Mai’s were so sharp he could almost feel them piercing his skin. “If you change your mind on getting over that roommate”
Mai’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around to (y/n), a look in her eyes that was somewhere between excitement and bewilderment. Maki snarled at the man until he finally turned around and left. It wasn’t until then that she ushered (y/n) into the bathroom, where there was no line to begin with, as it was completely empty inside.
The loud music and crowd at the bar muffled out once they were alone in there, and (y/n) was quick to scurry into a stall.
“Fucking ridiculous,” Maki cursed under her breath, while Mai pulled herself onto the counter of sinks, swinging her feet as she laughed to herself. “If he tries to talk to her again, I’m punching him in the goddamn teeth”
“That guy?” (y/n) called from the stall, only to go ignored by the sisters on the outside.
“Like when we were kids?” Mai mused, a smirk curling on her lips as she recalled the distant memory.
“No,” Maki shook her head, before a slow smirk of her own formed. “That was his nose”
They shared a laugh, even while (y/n) continued to ask who and what they were talking about. Naoya was a face they’d hoped they’d never have to see again, but certainly had no issue breaking if it came to it. And knowing him, things would likely come to that. Since birth he’d been an asshole, it seemed. Something about being a trust fund baby and a narcissistic manipulator seemed to bring out the worst in him.
(y/n) comes out of the stall with a childish frown as she drags her feet to the sink.
“We’re talking about Naoya,” Mai says, leaning back into the mirror to speak to (y/n) while she washes her hands. “He’s our cousin”
“That guy out there?” (y/n) mumbles, her brows furrowing as she focuses intently on soaping up her hands. “He’s your cousin?”
Mai nods.
“And he’s the fucking worst,” Maki pipes up with a bark in her tone that has (y/n’s) eyes snapping to her reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, Maki was giving her a pointed glare. “Stay away from him (y/n), he’s a piece of shit”
With wide eyes and her lips pressed together, (y/n) nods back at her in a small movement.
She hadn’t spoken to him too much. He’d approached her while she was lingering at the wall trying to get her texts to go through. She vaguely recalled him saying something about a pretty girl being alone, but she hadn’t given him much of her attention, too drunk and annoyed with her phone for not working to care.
But one thing led to another and she was complaining to him about not getting in touch with her hot roommate that she’d made things complicated with, and after he showed her how to send the message as a text rather than an imessage, he’d prodded her into telling him more about this situation-ship as he’d called it, and next thing she knew, she was talking on and on about Yuuta.
And (y/n) may have been a bit drunk, but she wasn’t oblivious. She caught the way he told her he’d help her get her mind off of things, she noticed the smirk on his lips and the darkness in his eyes as they swept her figure. But she didn’t care about his intentions. She just needed to vent, to an impartial- partially impartial- party that wouldn’t tell her what everyone else was telling her.
So honestly, (y/n) had no problem ignoring the new number in her contacts. She wasn’t looking to hook up with Naoya. But his company was appreciated while it lasted, even if he did only stick around her in the hopes of getting laid.
“She’s not interested in him like that,” Mai tells her sister, before her eyes flit over to (y/n) as she dries her hands. “Are you?”
(y/n) merely shakes her head, and tosses the paper towel in the bin.
“Thought so,” Mai smirked. “You’re still hung up on Yuu-ta~” She singsongs his name with girlish charm, and Maki cracks a small laugh, relieved to know that she didn’t have to teach her asshole cousin a lesson to keep him away from her best friend.
“That much is obvious”
“Come on,” (y/n) sighs, pulling on Mai’s arm to get her off of the counter so they could finally leave the bar. “Let’s go home so I can sleep this off and hopefully forget all of it”
Mai slings her arm around her waist as they leave the bathroom, the noise of the busy place drowning out all else once more. Even as the three of them push through the crowd, with Maki leading because her presence was strong enough to part a path in any crowd, (y/n’s) thoughts are messy. It was probably all the drinks, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the situation she’d put herself in.
She feels Mai’s cheek on top of her head when they near the door, and Maki opens it for the two to go through first, then follow behind. Sometimes (y/n) thinks her friendship with the twins had developed so much that she shares some of their special twin telepathy. Because Mai squeezes her hip and nuzzles into her hair just as her thoughts begin to spiral the longer she thinks about going home. Mai was always affectionate when she was drunk, and maybe she was riding on a high after her score with the sexy bartender, but (y/n) appreciated it nonetheless. She even sat with her in the backseat of Maki’s car, falling half asleep on her while leaning up against one another.
“I’m so not carrying her if she passes out,” Maki half-chides as she glares at her barely conscious sister in the backseat. “She can spend the night back there, I don’t care, I’m tired of carrying her ass around”
(y/n) chuckles, and laughs a little louder as Mai stirs and mutters something along the lines of ‘m not fuckin’ tired back at her.
Somehow she doesn’t pass out on top of (y/n), although her weight is heavy against her, when Maki parks at (y/n’s) apartment complex, Mai sits right up and gets out of the car. Her and (y/n) keep their arms wrapped around each other as they head inside. Maki rolls her eyes and occasionally scolds them for being too slow, or stumbling around and bumping into things, but her voice is soft and her hands are gentle as she guides them to the door.
Just as (y/n) is slurring over her words trying- and failing- to explain that she doesn’t have her key, the door opens and Maki is pushing the two inside.
Mai disappears from (y/n’s) side almost instantly, suddenly craving a glass of water and one of the peaches on display in a porcelain bowl on the kitchen counter.
“Pretty much what you expected, yeah?” (y/n) hears Maki say, but she’s suddenly so tired that keeping her eyes open feels like a workout. She doesn’t even have the energy to ask her what she’s talking about.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Someone replies. A familiar voice that was deep but soft around the edges. An instinctive smile forms on her lips. “Thanks for driving, though. And for… everything else” The voice grows quieter towards the end.
And then there’s a pair of hands on her shoulders, and (y/n) nearly collapses into the embrace. She stumbles, catching her heel at an awkward angle and nearly sprains an ankle trying to correct her stance. But the hands are faster, and stronger, and lift her by her hips before she could fall on the bent ankle or hurt herself at all. She’s placed right back on the ground a moment later, but the hands remain.
“Yuuta~” She greets him once she finally realizes who it is that is keeping her upright. It was an honest mistake, with her heavy eyes and alcohol flooded system, it was easy to confuse Yuuta’s strength for Maki’s.
Yuuta chuckles quietly at her delayed acknowledgement, his thumb caressing her hip in gentle circles.
“Let’s get you some water and into bed, hm?” He hums, tugging gently on her to get her to follow him.
(y/n) stumbles along without much hesitation at all. She’s humming a tune that had been stuck in her head after she’d heard it at the bar, and Yuuta tries not to laugh at her inebriated state, but she does make it difficult.
When he opens the door to her bedroom, they realize why it had been shut.
Mai was face down in (y/n’s) pillows, passed out cold. Her heels had been kicked off and unceremoniously thrown onto the rug, but that was as far as she got in settling in for bed. She was still in her dress, all of her jewelry, and most definitely was staining (y/n’s) silky pillowcases with her makeup.
“Damn, that’s another pillowcase set she owes me” (y/n) mumbles with a huff, leaning defeatedly into her door frame.
“She’s done this before?” Yuuta’s brows furrow.
(y/n) looks over at him with a frustrated pout before nodding. He winces, but their moment of shared exasperation is quickly clouded by how funny it was that such a thing had occurred twice and they hadn’t learned from it, and soon Yuuta was ushering them both out of the doorway and into the hall so they could let her sleep in peace.
“We’ll let her stay,” He says quietly, already guiding her to the other door. His door, she realizes distantly. “She clearly needs the rest, you can just stay in here, alright?”
He watches the delay in her realization as she turns to face him with a concerned look on her face. Yuuta already knows what she’s going to say before the words form in her mouth.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He eases her into the room with a gentle hand on her lower back. Her expression is still unsure, but her feet move on their own accord further into the room. “Get somethin’ to wear out of the dresser,” Yuuta instructs, knocking his knuckle against the drawer he kept his sleepwear in. “I’ll go let Maki know she can stay with Mai if she wants”
(y/n) gives him a small nod before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
It felt odd being in his room, not because it was unfamiliar to her, she actually spent plenty of time lounging in his room with him, but it was odd being there without him. Especially when she’d been asked to change, and into his clothes no less.
Her movements were hesitant as she opened the drawer he’d pointed to. The wood creaked out and put his clothes on their perfect, organized display. She let out a small laugh through her nose at how crisp his tee shirts were folded, and similarly, the even rolls of sweatpants beside them. It was almost ridiculous how perfect it all looked. But she couldn’t be surprised.
It almost felt wrong to pluck out a tee shirt and pair of sweats and unfold them, but suddenly her wrinkled skirt and the straps that didn’t want to stay in place on her shoulders were enough of a bother for her to unzip the irritating material and let it drop to the floor.
Yuuta’s clothes smelled like him. Which shouldn’t have been something that surprise her as much as it did, pausing as she tugged the tee shirt down, dipping her nose against the loose collar and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and the laundry detergent they shared, creating a fragrance that was so distinctly Yuuta she could recognize it in a second.
She tied the drawstrings of the sweatpants in a double knot to keep them from sliding back off her hips, and that was when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in” She called quietly, aware of the sleeping girl in the next room over. Although a tornado couldn’t stir Mai from the drunken slumber she was in.
Yuuta opened the door slowly, trying to keep it from creaking, before he entered the room.
He tried not to stare, he really did, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way his clothes blanketed her, and just how cute she looked in them. It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’s worn his clothes, there had been plenty of times where he’d lent her his jacket, or a spare tee shirt in high school when she’d spilled milk on her blouse, and those times had felt special too, but now felt… significant.
Seeing her wrapped up in his pajamas in his room while getting ready to go to sleep in his bed, Yuuta’s grinning at her while her face is going pink with embarrassment.
“Maki went home,” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the conversation he’d just had before he walked in here and had his mind wiped of all logical thought. “She said she’ll pick Mai up in the morning”
“Alright then,” (y/n) nodded in understanding. “Oh, and can I borrow a-”
“Your shoes are still on,”
Yuuta’s voice is soft as he cuts her off, vaguely pointing to where her strappy heels poked out under the pool of fluffy cotton at her feet. She looks down as though confused by the statement, but sure enough she realizes she hadn’t taken them off when she’d dropped her dress and stepped into the sweats.
She giggles to herself and lifts a leg, the excess fabric of his pants hanging off her ankle so she could be sure her heels were in fact still on her feet.
“Here,” Yuuta reaches out, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed. She follows, but just before she could lean over to undo the small buckles at her ankles, Yuuta was already kneeling to the ground before her.
(y/n’s) certain that her mistake from the night prior is the only reason that she feels a swell in her chest and an intimate tension settle in the air around them. Because there’s no other reason she should feel her heart racing and her face going hot as he carefully unlatches the buckle of the left shoe and slides the strap out before pulling the shoe away and dropping it to the floor. There’s no reason why she should feel butterflies fluttering around her tummy as he follows the same procedure for the right one.
But she does. She feels her blush and the butterflies and the dryness in her throat as the tension sucks all of the oxygen right from her lungs. And when he looks up at her with a sweet smile, surely happy to have helped, all of those feelings seem to be put under a magnifying glass.
“Better?” He asks with that damn smile.
Against her will, her mind wanders to how soft and warm that smile had felt when it was pressed against her mouth. How firm and gentle and experienced his mouth felt when it kissed hers. Her fingers dig into the plush comforter she sat on, trying to ground herself to reality, as far away from that memory as she could get.
She gives him a small nod.
“What did you want to borrow?” He asks as he stands, and her eyes follow his as he’s suddenly so easily towering over her. She almost had no idea what he was talking about, and she’s quick to release her hold on the blanket.
“Right- um- could I borrow one of your blankets? Mai is on top of all of-”
Yuuta’s chuckling makes her halt in her explanation, her brows barely pinching together in question at the reaction.
“You don’t need to sleep on the couch (y/n/n), you can stay in here, I already told you that,”
She presses her lips together as she regards him, trying to find any source of discomfort or regret. He seems to pick up on her evaluation, and he raises a brow as he chuckles at her.
The sound feels all too delighted, like he was amused by her hesitation.
“(y/n), it’s fine, you’re overthinking,” He tells her. “I’ll get you a glass of water, m’kay? Just… get comfortable. You’ve slept in here tons of times before”
He leaves the room before she could say what they were both thinking. Not like this. She’d accidentally napped in here on a few occasions, waiting too long for him to be done studying, or when her bedding was in the wash and she had grown tired after a day of chores, she wasn’t a stranger to his bed. But just as she wasn’t a stranger to his room, it still felt all too new right now.
Like if she moved too quickly she might break something intangible yet oh so fragile.
Nonetheless, she shuffles into the bed and under the covers, and her hazy mind begins to settle as soon as she rests her head on one of Yuuta’s feathery pillows. She wonders if everything he surrounded himself with- his clothes, his blankets, his pillows- was comfortable because he valued comfort, or if it simply was because it was all his. Because it was an extension of him.
But maybe she was still just a bit drunk and overthinking the fluffy warmth surrounding her. Maybe he was right about that part.
She’d just been drifting off to sleep when the door opened again, and she peeks her eyes open as Yuuta brings a glass of water over to the bedside table she laid next to.
“Try to drink all that tonight, alright?” His voice is a hum, surrounded by softness, and comfort, and she’s reaching for that question in the back of her mind again, prodding at it until she’s a little less sleepy, her curiosity stirring her mind enough to keep it active.
“Alright,” She murmurs back, leaning up on her elbow as she reaches for the glass, delighted to see it was chilled with ice. “Thank you” She adds before taking a few sips. Her dry throat had gone unnoticed until the first touch of water to her tongue, and suddenly she’s drinking down half the glass.
The bed dips behind her as Yuuta settles in, sighing to himself quietly as he gets situated. (y/n) quickly sets the glass back down, before turning over to face him.
In the dark room she vaguely makes out his silhouette, and she can’t tell if he’s looking at her or not, so maybe it’s what helped ease her nerves as she laid before him.
“Did you have a good night?” He breaks the silence first, but he keeps his voice quiet.
“Yeah, I guess so,” (y/n) mumbles back, her fingers finding a loose thread in his sheets. “It was fun dancing with Maki and Mai…” She wraps the thread around the tip of her middle finger.
“You sound disappointed” Yuuta comments, hooking his arm under his pillow so he could get a slightly better read on her expression, but the shadows cast over her features are too dark for him to decipher.
But he can feel it when she shrugs one of her shoulders and hums in a way that sounds like I don’t know.
“It was alright, it was, I just…” She tries to explain it, but as she speaks the rest of the words just don’t come to mind. It had been fine, it had been fun even, nothing wrong had happened, but it didn’t quite feel… “I think I just thought my tendency of drinking to forget was the right way to go, but I don’t think it worked, and I think I’m only going to feel worse,”
It was word vomit through and through, an endless stream of thoughts flowing right out of her mouth before she could think twice about what she was saying or how it might make him feel. But the cusp of the issue was right there and she was dying to understand the complicated knot of feelings swelling in her chest.
“I think I made a mistake,” She slows down as she says this, and Yuuta wishes she would’ve ripped off the bandaid, but at least she couldn’t see it when he frowned at her. “But not- not for what you think, I don’t mean it… like that,” She stammers a bit as she tries to correct herself, the alcohol still in her system doing her no favors besides the minor boost in courage. “But I… I don’t think I could handle it” She says in a small voice.
She’s quiet for a bit as she tightens the thread around her finger, barely able to make out the way it creases and dips into her skin.
“Well…” Yuuta sighs, struggling to find the right thing to say to her.
What could he say? He could tell her the truth, unpack all of his feelings, his entire heart, right here, but at the end of the day wouldn’t that just make things more complicated? She wasn’t exactly sober, and if she didn’t feel remotely the same way then he dug himself a socially awkward grave that he’d just have to live in because damn it they split the rent. He’s panicking, breaking into a cold sweat even under two blankets.
“It was just a kiss, yeah?” He repeats what she’d told him just last night. But unlike the confident, smug way she’d phrased it, he sounds unsure, and maybe even frightened.
Her head moves, and he still can’t make out the direction of her gaze, but he can still feel her eyes on him. He tries to focus his vision better, hoping to adjust to the darkness soon.
“If it was just a kiss I don’t think I would’ve felt compelled to go out and try to forget it happened,” (y/n) replies, her voice hushed, afraid of revealing too much. “I’m just really sorry”
Yuuta blinks a few times, as if that would help him figure out if he heard her right.
“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n),” He tells her, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong-”
“I made things so weird and over- over some dumb advice from Maki- and I just can’t believe I managed to find a way to make our friendship weird because- because you mean a lot to me, you’re really my best friend, Yuuta”
He can’t tell if his heart swells with love or bursts with the sting of rejection at the statement.
“You’re overthinking again,” He forces a light chuckle, before reaching out and gently wrapping his hand over hers. “It’s not that weird, alright? Nothing could change… us… okay?”
She doesn’t say anything, just sighs in disappointment while his thumb brushes over the back of her hand.
“You mean a lot to me too, you know that,” He tried to lighten the mood, but with barely seeing her face it was hard to tell how she was feeling. “It was just a kiss, alright? Just a… really nice kiss”
“A few really nice kisses,” She mutters under her breath, finally cracking a small laugh. Yuuta beams back at her, unable to stop himself from giggling back at her.
It grows quiet between them after a few minutes, but this time it’s comfortable, and she feels her muscles untense as she sinks further into the mattress.
“I did complain about you, though”
“Complain?” Yuuta pouted. “To the Zen’ins? They’ll use that against me, you know”
(y/n) giggles, knowing full well that if she’d told the twins one foul thing about Yuuta they’d grab him by the ankles and dangle him right off this apartment building until he apologized to her. But she shakes her head at him.
“No, no not to them. Some guy at the bar,” She explains. “Their cousin, actually,”
He racks his brain for a minute, trying to recall who this cousin is, but he can only think of Megumi, and everyone knew Megumi, so had she run into Megumi, she would’ve said so, wouldn’t she? But no, she said some guy.
“Got his number, too,” She adds, but she sounds defeated, like it wasn’t a victory to get a cute stranger’s number at a bar when she’d specifically gone out seeking a distraction.
Something odd twists in Yuuta’s gut. The jealousy was distinct, but the pride in picking up on the fact that she hadn’t been interested in this mysterious Zen’in relative.
“Maki said he’s a dick, though,” She explained her lack of interest. “But he was sure happy to put up with my troubles”
Yuuta lets out a humorless laugh. “Who wouldn’t listen to a pretty girl at a bar rant about her problems?” He asks, and he can’t quite see it but he knows she rolls her eyes at him. “But since you got that number complaining about me, that makes me a wingman, right?”
She snorts back at him.
“Not in the slightest”
“No?” He frowns. “Why not?”
“For one, you weren’t there, you can’t be a wingman if you’re not present,” She explains, matter-of-factly. “And for two, I don’t think telling a guy how annoying it is that my hot roommate has been walking around in a towel and getting in my head really is all that deserving of me getting a phone number. I don’t think that booty-call was going to lead anywhere other than the bathroom stall”
Yuuta crinkled his nose at the descriptive language, before backtracking and perking up at the other part.
“Did you say I’m hot?”
Realization flashes in her eyes, and Yuuta thanks whatever deity is up there that he can finally make out her features in the dark room. When she doesn’t immediately reply, his lips curl into a grin.
“You did!” He teases, and she yanks her hand out of his gentle hold, only for him to poke at her face playfully. “You said-!”
“Hush,” She shushes him with irritation. “You’ll wake up Mai. And- and that’s not a big deal. You compliment me all the time”
Her face is burning, and the smile that threatens to take over her face is beginning to win.
“Shut up, that’s totally different,” He murmurs, and moves closer to her when she tries to shrink away out of embarrassment. “You called me your hot roommate. And apparently you’re getting bothered over a towel? Is me being shirtless that upsetting?”
“I’m not doing this with you right now-”
“Oh no, come on, you have to now,” Yuuta pleads, his voice still that annoyingly sexy teasing tone. (y/n) turns to push her face into her pillow, and he wiggles closer again, eager to hear what else she’d had on her mind. “Come on, what else did you have to complain about?”
“I complained that you’re annoying,” She whines, her voice muffled by the pillow. Yuuta chuckles. “And I complained about how you don’t know how much you…” She trails off, and her voice goes impossibly quieter. “Bother me” She finishes in a mumble to the pillow.
He hears it perfectly clear.
His face feels hot, and there’s a familiar little tingle in his stomach. But he smirks at her hiding form.
“Well what else, then?” He asks.
(y/n) rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek back into the pillow as she looks over at him.
“What do you mean?” She asks.
“What else bothers you?” He clarifies his question.
She giggles as she shakes her head at him.
“No way”
“Yes way,” Yuuta laughs back at her. “Come on, tell me”
“No!” She protests again in a hiss. “Am I not embarrassed enough already? I’m taking this to my grave”
“No you’re not,” Yuuta scoffs. “Come on, you tell me everything, so, tell me”
She supposed he had a point. A dumb one, but a point nonetheless. Clearly at some point or another she was bound to indulge him on this. Even though she couldn’t explain it, she was always driven to share every part of herself with Yuuta. Even when it was embarrassing. Even when it was intimate.
(y/n) may have told the Zen’in twins about the rushing-out-of-the-shower thing, but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other instances where her mind crossed the platonic boundary between her revolving thoughts of Yuuta. That was just the first occurrence she assumed they could understand.
She huffs.
“Sometimes you wear your tee shirts a size too small,” She mumbles.
Yuuta wants to tease her, maybe crack a joke, but he keeps his mouth shut as she gives in. He didn’t want to miss a single word. He had to pay close attention so he knew exactly how to get under her skin in all the right ways. Hearing that she found him hot was one thing, he could pass it off as a joke or an empty compliment. Hearing that there were specific things that he did that made her sexually frustrated? He couldn’t mess this up for himself.
“And when you drive me places, you do that thing with your arm when you back the car up” She adds.
“What do you mean?” He questions that one with a furrowed brow.
“You know,” She mumbles, weakly lifting her arm to demonstrate, bending it behind her head. He shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest. “You always grab the back of my seat and look over your shoulder,” She tries to put it into words. “And then, it’s just, like-” The words fail her again as she continues the motion with her arm. Yuuta thinks he gets what she’s trying to explain, but he has no idea that such a mundane action was a bother for her.
“That turns you on?” He tries not to laugh, but then (y/n’s) face goes red and she’s trying to deny it.
“I didn’t say that!” She squeaks out. “I just, you know, forget that I’m not supposed to… thinkaboutyoulikethat” She rushes the confession out as fast as she can.
“I… think that’s pretty normal,” Yuuta admits quietly. (y/n) blinks wide eyes at him, waiting for him to continue. “And if anything, I’m flattered,” He adds with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah,” (y/n) huffs, before wiggling closer, pressing her forehead into his chest before sighing, sleepiness overcoming her. “Not a word of this to anyone else” She mutters.
Yuuta mock whines as he wraps an arm around her back, tucking her closer against him. He pretends not to notice when her nose nuzzles into his tee shirt, in the middle of his chest. He pretends not to notice when her hand slips across his abdomen and over his waist.
“I think about you too,” He murmurs, resting his chin on top of her head. Her fingers twitch on his hip, almost tickling him. He tries not to wiggle, he doesn’t want her to think he’s uncomfortable. “For the record”
“You do?” She mumbles, half asleep already, but too curious about what he meant by that.
“Mhm” He hums, his hand trailing down her spine and then back up again, the gentle touch of his fingers warming her up, making her melt further into him.
“Like when?” She asks, and when he doesn’t reply right away, she lets out a sigh. “Come on, I told you!” She whined. “Now you have to tell me some embarrassing stuff, too”
“Alright, that’s fair,” Yuuta agreed. “I like when you wear that dress” He says. (y/n) beams against his chest.
“That one?” She mumbles, weakly gesturing to the pool of fabric on his floor. He nods back at her.
“Mhm,” He confirms quietly. “I know it’s your favorite. It should be” He smiles to himself. (y/n) giggles quietly, the soft vibrations hitting his chest and warming his skin.
“Tell me more” She mumbles, the words barely audible. Yuuta knows that she’s going to pass out soon. Her breathing was beginning to slow, and her chest rose and fell in steady movements. Surely he could leave this conversation as it is and she’d be fast asleep in a minute or two anyhow.
“Well,” He sighs out the word, as if he had to pick his own brain to come up with more examples, as if every little thing she did wasn’t enough to catch his eye on it’s own. “Maybe things are a lil’ different now, hm?” He hums.
(y/n) doesn’t respond. For a second, he thinks maybe she’s finally fallen asleep, but just as he contemplates checking, her head moves in a small nod. A silent, barely-there admission.
“I like the way you kiss,” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, the cheeky but all-too shy little grin that she’s grown so accustomed to. She gives him another giggle, a breathless little laugh that makes her shoulders shake and her nose press into the collar of his shirt. “It’s true, I mean it,” Yuuta said, a quiet laugh escaping him as well. Partially due to her laughter infecting him, partially out of the relief that maybe talking about what happened would help them both to not feel so weird about it now. “You’re a good kisser, you should be proud. I for one feel honored”
He’s teasing, she knows that, but her face still feels warm as she keeps it tucked away in his chest, hoping that her heart wasn’t beating so rapidly that he could hear it in the quiet room.
“You’re a good kisser, too,” Her words are more slurred than before, Yuuta can practically hear her losing consciousness as she drifts off. “Really good kisser” She adds under her breath.
And then her head feels a little heavier on his chest, and Yuuta doesn’t have to check to know she’s asleep in his arms. He’s exhausted and he knows he should close his eyes and try to sleep, too. But it feels too nice to hold her close, so he hangs onto consciousness for as long as he can.
Before his body’s tiredness finally takes over, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head, and settles into his pillow with his arms securely wrapped around her, making sure that she stays close while he sleeps.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#okkotsu yuuta#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta imagine#yuuta x reader#okkotsu x reader#okkotsu#yuuta#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu imagine#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta imagine#yuuta brainrot
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The Grateful Dad Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't believe you and he are about to be parents. Just when he was getting used to the idea of how his life would be, the two of you get an unexpected surprise. And by your third trimester, when you make a promise to him and then break it, he's left to deal with some things in his own.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, smut and pregnancy
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is an optional one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time!
Read Part 1! Check my profile for my masterlist
It didn't fully hit Bradley until the first time he noticed that soft swell of your belly. It seemed to sneak up on him, the way it took several months before it was noticeable. But once it was there, it was all he could think about.
He was going to be a dad. And you were going to be a mom.
"Sugar," he whined that first day he noticed it. "You have a bump." You were lying in bed, trying to read as he pushed your tie dye shirt up a few more inches. "This wasn't here yesterday."
You set your book down and glanced to where his hands were resting gently on your belly. "I guess I do have a little bump," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed the spot just above your belly button. "My wool skirt is getting snug for work, but I thought I was just bloated."
Bradley was mesmerized. "Do you think it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, glancing up at you with a grin.
"Do you really care?"
"Not at all." He kissed your bump and started humming his favorite Grateful Dead song. Bradley knew this was likely the only time you'd want to get pregnant. Your career was important to you, and you were already concerned about the baby coming before the end of your spring semester. You said you were going to have to take the following fall semester off from teaching, because you didn't want to let down the math majors at San Diego State University where you taught calculus.
"You don't know how easy it is to love you," he sang to your belly before abruptly rolling over in bed.
"Where are you going?" you asked him with a laugh.
He grabbed his phone and opened his music app, mumbling, "The baby should get to hear the Grateful Dead perform it. Sounds better than when I sing."
He queued up the song and placed his phone near your belly as it started. "I don't know. I kind of like your version, Beer Boy," you promised, and he kissed your lips before pushing your shirt up high enough so he could see your tattoo of the song lyrics.
"That's good, because I'll never stop singing it," he whispered, running his nose along your tattoo. He placed one hand gently on your belly and sang along.
--------------------------------
"I'm so excited," Bradley whispered for the seventh time in five minutes. "I don't think I've ever been this excited before. I also kind of feel like I'm going to throw up."
"Relax," you whispered, taking his hand. If he was this bad today when you were getting a high definition ultrasound, maybe you didn't want him with you when you actually delivered the baby.
"I just want to see the bean," he mumbled, practically bouncing in the waiting room chair.
You tried not to smile, because he actually looked a little pale and nervous. "We don't even get to find out the sex today."
"Yeah," he replied, exasperated, "but we get to see the bean, Sugar. Up close and personal."
When they called your name a minute later, Bradley jumped out of his seat and dragged you down the hallway. He paced around the first room while you had some blood drawn. And then he paced around the next room while you waited for the technician to come in.
"Why did they call us back if they weren't ready?" he grunted, eyeing you up and down as you sat on the exam table in a hospital gown. "This is taking for fucking ever."
"Watch your language in front of the baby," you scolded, and his eyes went wide.
"Shit, you're right. Oh, fuck. Damn it!" You were cracking up now as he sat down with his forehead resting on his palms. "I'll get better, I promise!"
"You have about six more months to shape up your act."
He thought about everything he had planned for the next six months. Buy a crib and a stroller. Put a car seat in the Bronco. Paint the extra bedroom. Put those little plastic safety things in all the outlets in the house.
When the exam room door opened, he jumped to his feet as a woman in pink scrubs walked in. "Hi, I'm Elaine! Sorry for the long wait, but we were double checking your blood work," she said walking toward you.
"What's wrong with the blood work?" Bradley asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. The desire to throw up returned, and he was reaching backwards for the arm of the chair.
"Nothing at all," she replied smoothly, helping you lay back on the table and opening the hospital gown. "A lot of different levels were elevated, so we wanted to be sure. But if you're ready to see the babies, then we can get started."
"Babies?" you and Bradley nearly shouted in unison as Elaine opened the software and turned on the gigantic monitor.
"Yes," she replied with a smile. "You're having twins."
Bradley nearly collapsed back into the empty chair. "Holy shit. Holy shit, Sugar!"
"Twins?!" you asked Elaine. Bradley couldn't tell if you were excited about the idea or not, but he was thrilled. Two babies? In one go? This was better than getting a promotion at work. This was almost as good as his wedding day. Almost as exciting as when you and he reunited in Virginia after ten years apart.
When you reached out your hand toward him, Bradley rocketed out of his seat to get to you. "Are you happy?" he asked, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your forehead.
"I... I think so. I think I'm kind of shocked."
"Me, too. But in a very, very good way."
As the two of you watched the monitor while Elaine moved the wand around on your belly, Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He had never seen anything so sweet in his life.
"Two little beans," you whispered, and Bradley watched you cry as you smiled. When he nodded, you added, "Yes, I'm happy."
But when Bradley got you settled at home, his apprehension started to creep in. You were clearly tired. You were the one growing the twin beans. He probably wasn't doing enough. As you slowly dozed off in bed wearing his old Grateful Dead shirt, he watched your lips part, soft breathing taking over.
His thoughts drifted to his own parents. He could only remember how much pain his mom had been in before she died, and he could barely picture what his dad looked like unless he had a photo in his hand.
Bradley could feel his heart rate pick up, the rapid pounding filling his ears started to make him feel crazy. He sat up in bed, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck," he muttered. He was going to mess this all up. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't remember his dad. And all he knew was that his mom somehow made him feel safe without really doing anything that he could model his behavior off of. Carole just made everything seem effortless, which was not helping him right now.
He bolted out of bed, and then your eyes were open and focused on him. "What's wrong?" you asked groggily. "I need you to snuggle with me."
He studied your pretty face and your earnest expression. "What if I suck at being a dad?" he blurted out.
You set your head back down on the pillow and reached out for him with one hand. "You're good at everything else. You'll be good at this, too."
"But what if I'm not?" he demanded. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I barely even had a dad." He thought of the navy desk lamp and how he'd followed in his father's career path and how he somehow knew Nick had loved him.
"You've never let me down yet, Beer Boy." Your soft words and the way you reached for his hands were enough to get him back into bed. And then his pulse returned to normal as you wrapped him up in your arms. This time he was dozing off before you were.
----------------------------
Bradley went sprinting out of work at the beginning of lunchtime. If Maverick kept them one minute longer, Bradley would have earned himself some push-ups for insubordination. It was your anatomy ultrasound scan day, and now he was going to be late meeting you there.
"Fuck," he groaned as he yanked down the zipper of his flight suit a few inches as he pulled out into traffic. He was trying so hard to stop swearing, but days like this just called for the f word. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled, weaving around cars.
He wanted to know more about the twin beans. You and he had been talking about names, and he was beyond excited about everything. Last weekend he had painted the nursery a soft gray color and assembled two cribs. He even ordered a variety of matching tie dye onesies. Then you told him he did a great job and pushed him down on the floor on the new cloud shaped area rug in the nursery. His reward was getting to run his hands all over your round belly and tits while you rode him.
Bradley was in love with you and the babies, and being late today was making him upset. You were already on the exam table with the technician when the receptionist led him back to the room.
"Oh good, you're here," you sighed as he rushed toward you and grabbed your hand.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," he whispered, kissing your forehead and then your belly.
The technician smiled as Bradley knelt next to the table with his hand in yours. "Let's begin?" the technician asked. And when you nodded, he rubbed some gel on your belly and ran the wand slowly back and forth until those adorable beans were on the monitor just like last time.
"They got so big!" Bradley said, proud of how nicely they were growing.
"They are measuring right where they should be," the technician said, pausing the screen to take some pictures. "And I can tell you the sex for both of them if you want to know."
"Yes!" Bradley nearly shouted, looking up at your beautiful face as you laughed. "Please!"
"Okay, here we go."
It felt like an eternity as Bradley gripped your hand, waiting to be informed about what he was looking at on the screen. You were stroking his knuckles with your thumb, always so calm and analytical.
He glanced at your face and watched you as the technician said, "Baby number one right here is not shy at all. He's waving hi."
"He?" Bradley was on his feet, trying to get closer to the screen.
"Yes. A boy," the technician said.
"Another little Beer Boy in the making," you said before Bradley leaned down to kiss you.
He was sure he looked ridiculous as he said, "Nah, he'll be so much better than me. He's half you."
The way you smiled up at Bradley had him kneeling next to you again. "What about baby number two? Can we look at that bean now?" he asked, squeezing your hand.
"Okay," the technician said, drawing Bradley's attention toward the screen again. "And baby number two...well she's trying to hide behind her brother, but there she is."
Bradley shouted, "Yes!" so loudly that you and the technician both jumped a little bit. "Oh my god, Sugar!"
"One of each," you whispered, covering your lips with your shaky fingers.
"This is exactly what I was hoping for, but I didn't want to say it out loud," he whispered against your ear before kissing you all over your face. "Two little beans. One of each!"
You wrapped your arms around Bradley's neck and said. "You don't know how easy it is to love you."
------------------------------
"I'm not going to make it," you moaned, laying on the couch while Bradley made dinner while his phone rang. You were at the start of your third trimester. You were huge. You were always hungry. It was getting hard to stand up for your lectures that were longer than an hour. And Bradley was the only thing holding you together.
"Fuck!" he suddenly shouted from the kitchen.
"What's wrong?" you asked, lifting your head up from the cushion. When Bradley walked into the living room, his brow was pinched and he was eyeing you warily. "What?" you demanded, struggling to sit up.
He knelt in front of you and eased you into a seated position. "Sugar," he whispered, pleading with you. "I just got the call. A special mission."
Tears sprang to your eyes. "A deployment?"
"Yeah, baby. I'll be back before the due date."
You cried while his lips met your belly through your shirt. "But, Bradley," you sobbed, "I can't! You've been doing everything! I'm so exhausted, I can barely function! And what if they extend you? That did that last time!"
Great big sobs wracked your body, and you started gasping for air. Soon you were close to hyperventilating, but Bradley got you into the bathroom just in time for you to throw up in the toilet. And then you curled up on the floor and looked up at him. Your voice was a harsh whisper as he rubbed your back. "I can't do this without you."
He looked distraught as he said, "I don't want you to have to. But Uncle Sam owns my ass."
You closed your eyes, dreading asking him for the mission details. So instead you whispered, "No, the beans and I own your ass. Uncle Sam just borrows you."
"You absolutely own my ass, Sugar," he replied softly, kissing your tear streaked cheeks and helping you get to your feet. "Let's try to eat dinner, and we can talk this through."
Bradley carried two plates of food to the dining room table where you had the perfect view of the glossy white doors he had used to propose to you. He had hung them up on the wall, turning them into the most beautiful work of former frat boy art you had ever seen.
SUGAR
WILL
YOU
MARRY
ME?
You picked at your food as he filled you in on the missions plans. He was perfect. Your husband was perfect, and now you were scared you weren't going to be able to get through a month without him. And then you started to spiral, because if four weeks alone while you were pregnant felt too daunting, how would you manage twins while he was gone for months at a time?
"Beer Boy?" you whimpered. "I can't do this."
"Yes," he said adamantly, "you can. You're the strongest person I know."
You bit down hard on your lip as it quivered. "What if something happens to you? Or me? Or them?" Your voice broke, and once again, Bradley was collecting you into his arms and abandoning the dinner plates. You cried softly as he helped you out of your work clothes and into his old Grateful Dead shirt. And then you curled up in bed and watched him strip down to his underwear.
You watched the flex of his muscles as he took the hideous, tie dyed Grateful Dad shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. "Nothing's going to happen," he whispered as he got in bed beside you. "You'll wear your shirt, and I'll wear mine. And we'll think about each other the whole time I'm gone. And I'll hang up all the sexy photos I have of you plus the ultrasounds of the beans. And before you know it, I'll be back. And then the beans will be here. And then we'll actually be even more perfect than I ever thought possible."
You cried yourself to sleep in his arms, soaking up all of his beautiful words.
---------------------------
Bradley's duffle bag was packed. He was leaving in the morning. You'd made him a little folder of copies of the ultrasound photos, and he'd added a few wedding photos as well. He laughed every time he looked at the photos from your Vegas wedding with Elvis. But right now, he felt like crying.
Somehow you were holding it together better than he was right now. "You coming to bed, Beer Boy?"
He zipped his bag closed and looked up to find you standing there in your navy blue bra and matching panties. Your tits looked bigger than ever, practically spilling over the lace cups. And your belly had gotten so big, your panties were tucked below your bump. He reached out for you, pulling you close so his nose met your belly.
"I want the two of you to be good for Mommy while I'm gone, okay?" he whispered, kissing and tickling you with his mustache. He was rewarded with your fingers in his hair and a kick from one of his twins. "I love my Sugar Babies."
You giggled and said, "I wonder if that was the jellybean or the spoonful of sugar that kicked you." Over the past few weeks, you had taken to giving the twins cute little candy related names, and Bradley couldn't get enough.
He'd never get enough of you either. The way your fingers felt in his hair as he knelt in front of you. The sound of your voice when he closed his eyes. The warmth of your skin where he kissed you.
"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered before he stood and followed you to bed.
"I'll be there to pick you up four weeks from tomorrow," you promised, reaching back to unhook your bra. "I promise."
Bradley groaned loudly as you sank back into the pillows. "Your tits look delicious," he moaned, crawling across the bed to get to you. "Fucking huge."
"Watch your language in front of the babies," you whispered against his lips as he palmed your breasts and stroked your tattoos. "Daddy."
Bradley pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them aside, running his fingers through your slick. "Bradley!" you gasped, your eyes following his every move as he brought his fingers up to his lips.
"You look delicious, and you taste delicious," he told you, licking his fingers clean before you reached for his cock through his boxer shorts. You squeezed him, eliciting a strangled, needy noise, and he whined your name.
And you let Bradley do whatever he wanted with a devilish little smile on your face and his name on your lips. You sucked his cock until he was panting, and then you leaned back with your hands on your chest. When he ran his wet length through the valley between your breasts, you urged him along.
"I want you to," you whispered as he titty fucked you. Your tongue darted out to taste him as he tried to go slow. But you looked and felt so good, he was already so far gone by the time he pulled away from you.
"I wanna make you feel good," he gasped as you pushed him onto his back. "As fucking good as you make me feel all the time."
He was treated to the sight of you awkwardly positioning him at your entrance as you had to work around your belly. And when you slid down around him with your perfect pussy, Bradley let his hands come to rest on your hips. Your body was wider now and impossibly sexy, and you rode him as you ran your fingers gently along your breasts.
"I love you, Sugar," he whispered, running his knuckles along your clit until you were clenching. His other hand came to rest on your belly, and Bradley felt so connected to you, so in love with you, that he felt a tear leak from his eye as you came from him. And then he came inside you as he met you halfway for a kiss.
As you eventually started to doze off on his shoulder, still full of his cum, you whispered, "I love you too, Beer Boy."
----------------------------
Being away from the three of you was tedious at best. Bradley found it hard to pay attention to the things he was supposed to do. He knew the mission parameters inside and out, but he didn't take the time to think about how dangerous it was. There was no space left in his jumbled thoughts for anything except you.
Phoenix had promised to go to your appointments with you in his absence, and when he was allowed to call you, he listened intently to your updates
"Jellybean boy is measuring a little bigger than our sweet girl, but they both looked good! Nice and strong according to the doctor. And I gained three more pounds, which is probably not ideal, but all the meals you made and froze for me are so yummy."
And then he flew the special mission, set on making sure it went as flawlessly as possible. Determined to stay as safe as he could. Whatever it took to get back home to San Diego and his perfect little family.
You were less than a month out from your due date now. And when Bradley arrived on the dock exactly four weeks after you'd sent him off with some filthy kisses, he was so excited to see you. See if you'd gotten bigger or had trouble walking now. He was excited to kneel down and talk to his twins.
But when he turned his phone on, he was greeted with a voicemail message of your incoherent sobbing. He dropped his bag to the deck of the aircraft carrier as the sound of you crying met his ears. His heart sank to his stomach. You'd left him this message just a handful of hours ago, but when he tried to call you back as the ship was docking, you didn't answer.
"Come on," he whispered, his voice harsh and filled with unshed tears. "Sugar." But still, you did not answer.
He could feel himself gasping for air. He promised you nothing was going to happen. He never broke his promises to you. Not even when he was twenty one years old and didn't understand the strength of the love he felt for you.
He was staring at his phone screen for a few seconds as tears filled his eyes before he realized he was receiving a call.
"Nat?" he asked, answering his best friend.
"I'm on the dock," she said simply. "I'll find you as you deboard. We're going to head right to the hospital."
"What happened to her?" he asked, clutching his own stomach, barely able to speak. "To them?"
"Early labor," was all she said. Then she sighed before repeating herself. "We'll head right to the hospital."
------------------------------
You weren't sure what was going on. All you knew was the intense amount of pain you were in was enough to make you throw up over and over again. When your water broke during your calculus lecture, you shouldn't have been surprised. You'd been feeling off all week. You tried to chalk it up to missing your husband, but it was more than that.
After your water broke, you collapsed, only breaking the fall with your hands on the hard floor. You were pretty sure at least one of your wrists was broken, but nobody at the hospital was even slightly concerned about that. Not when they were trying to determine if your babies were okay.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to beg Natasha to leave you and pick Bradley up from the port on base after she met you at the hospital. You had been informed that the babies were fine, but you needed to deliver them now as you were running out of amniotic fluid. They would deliver the beans by cesarean section. They were going to put you under general anesthesia for it.
You cried as they prepared you for surgery. You were alone. Bradley was probably with Phoenix by now, but they wouldn't wait any longer. "Let's get started," your obstetrician said as you settled on your back with your battered wrists as your sides.
"Okay," you agreed, crying as the drugs to put you under started to cloud your vision.
"Sugar!"
You laughed softly at the nurse to your left. "That sounded like my husband," you said with a giggle. Then you caught sight of Bradley running into the room in his khaki uniform, drenched in sweat. "It looks like him, too. Hi, Beer Boy," you said, still laughing as he rushed toward you.
"Sugar," he gasped, eyes wide. But they wouldn't let him touch you as you fell asleep.
Pain. You woke up in so much pain. Everything hurt. You were on your back and the room was dark and you could hear beeping.
"Bradley?" you gasped, trying to sit up, but you couldn't. You started crying and calling his name, and then he was at your side.
"I'm here, Sugar," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It's okay. I love you. You're just waking up again."
"Again?" you asked, completely confused. "Where are the beans?"
"In the nursery," he promised. "They've been in the nursery since yesterday when they were born."
Your head was swimming with information and memories and fear as Bradley left you to turn on the dim hospital room lights. "They were born yesterday?"
"Yes," he told you, making his way back over in his rumpled, wrinkly uniform. "And you had surgery on your left wrist today."
But you were starting to remember more now as your eyes settled on the white board across the room. The birth times and birth weights of the twins written in an unfamiliar scrawl. Baby A and Baby B were born just five minutes apart. You must have been on a lot of pain medication, because surely those were not the names you and Bradley had discussed?
You cleared your throat a few times, and then he was grabbing your cup of water and holding it so you could take a sip through the straw.
"Bradley," you started, but he stopped you with a kiss to your chapped lips.
"I'm so proud of you, Sugar," he said, letting his forehead come to rest against yours. "Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?"
"But Beer Boy," you said, glancing at the names written on the board.
"The doctors said the kiddos are doing just fine, and when they wake up hungry in another hour or so, you'll be able to see them."
"But I-"
"And only your left wrist was broken. Your right one will heal on its own. And your abdominal incision will heal up great. And you'll be back to work after the fall term, no problem."
"Bradley!" you said loudly, realizing it was nearly three in the morning as you checked the clock before looking at the names again. "Did you go rogue and name the children without my approval?"
Your husband was silent now, and you could see his cheeks were a little red. "Just the middle names," he muttered softly.
You sighed and read out loud from the board. "Emma Bean Bradshaw and Levi Garcia Bradshaw," you said slowly. "Really?"
He looked so sheepish as your gaze met his again. "I thought they sounded nice," he whispered, and you felt your lips curve into a smile.
"I love them," you said, swallowing hard. "Their names are perfect."
And then you were treated to your husband's lips and mustache as he kissed you all over your face until you were laughing. "I thought you were mad," he said with a sigh of relief.
"Not mad," you promised, letting him adjust your bed and get you more water. He flitted around the room for a few minutes, and then the door opened as two nurses pushed bassinets into the room, and you cried as you looked at your daughter and your son in their matching tie dyed onesies
Bradley picked Emma Bean up in his arms, and he gently held her out so you could give her a kiss. "Here she is. And check it out, Sugar. I've been feeding them and changing them since yesterday!"
You marveled at how he held her and bent to coo at Levi Garcia at the same time. And then a moment later, he was sitting in the chair right next to you, feeding each baby a bottle as he sang his favorite Grateful Dead song.
"Beer Boy," you said with a soft laugh. "You really are the Grateful Dad."
He smiled at you and said, "I haven't been home yet to wash my hideous shirt, but one day soon we can all wear our tie dye together."
You examined the cast on your left wrist and ran you right hand gingerly along your belly which felt horribly tender. "You're going to have to take care of all three of us when we go home."
"I'm up for the challenge," he promised immediately. "Nat's gonna help. And Bob will, too. And we'll be just fine. Better than fine."
Bradley stood carefully and set down Emma Bean, your tiny daughter, along your right side. Bradley didn't move as she snuggled up against you, rather he bent and let you kiss Levi's cheek.
"We'll be perfect," you supplied, smiling at your son and daughter as you listened to your husband sing.
"You don't know how easy it is to love you."
-----------------------------
I couldn't leave Beer Boy hanging in his ugly Grateful Dad tee without letting him know how was having twins beans. And I just know he's going to take the best care of all three of them. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfic#rooster x you#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster x reader#rooster bradshaw fic#rooster bradshaw x reader#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#the grateful dad
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Once More | Jack Hughes
summary: when Quinn invites you back to the lake house it forces you to reconvene with your ex. What happens when Jack misses you just as much as you miss him?
trope: exes to lovers
request: yes/no
warnings: minimal swearing
word count: 1.98k
authors note: I have been in a Hughes boy mood since yesterday so it only felt right giving another one of the boys some attention. Also in honour of me getting my Hughes jersey today this was only fair. Is it wrong of me to say that I sorta hated this one, like soft Jack is not my strong suit. If you want to check out more of the 500 celly you can do so here!
Being back there you knew it was going to be tough on your heart.
Quinn had invited you to the family lake house for the summer. Everything told you that you should just say no, but when the boy reminded you of the promise you had given him prior to the start of your relationship with Jack you knew you had no choice but to go.
You had started being friends with Quinn during college and everyone thought that the two of you would become an item. It was hard not to think that when he spent every second away from the rink hanging out with you.
When he brought you back to the lake house that summer Ellen and Jim swore the announcement of your relationship would come in the upcoming days. Of course it never did and instead you caught the eye of the middle Hughes boy, Jack instead.
Quinn wasn’t stupid, he saw the way you looked at Jack and how Jack looked at you.
So it was no surprise that by December of your junior year Jack asked you out. At first you were hesitant because of what Quinn might think yet when Quinn’s only condition to the relationship was that you two would always remain friends, you couldn’t help but agree.
That was the start of easily the best three years of your life. The relationship was great, you graduated from Umich and found the job of your dreams in New Jersey so you even got the chance to move in with Jack.
There was no doubt about it, Jack adored you. The goal dedications, the mentions in interviews, the speeding back from the airport so he could see you before you fell asleep, hell even the sweaty hugs after home games when he’d pick you up and swing you around. All of it was there, and from the outside you two truly looked happy.
The argument had gone on for at least ten minutes by now “do you really want me to miss boys night?” Jack groaned as he crossed his arms.
Of course you wanted him to, you missed your boyfriend and it felt like it should have been your night “if you really want to go then go.” You hoped that your comment would knock some sense into him but instead it just went over his head.
He went to grab his shoes as you decided to drop the bombshell of news “I got a job in California,” you announced as you clenched your fists.
It made the hockey player stop in his tracks “I’m gonna take it.” Up until that moment you really didn’t know if you wanted to take the job, not whilst Jack was still at home.
The devils player swore the world stopped when you told him that “what about us?” Was all he could get out as his chest grew heavy.
You wanted to roll your eyes as you ran your fingers through your hair “you aren’t here half of the time so it’s not like you’re going to notice me being gone.” You pointed out as you shrugged reminding him of the fact that he was spending less of his time in the garden state at the apartment than he did before.
However your comment caused him to scoff “you want me to not work anymore?” He shot back as he pursed his lips int a fine line.
Tears began to well in your eyes “I want you to love me, but I don’t think you’re capable of that anymore.” Your voice and your heart broke as you watched him remain silent.
The sound of his phone pulled your attentions away from each other “Nico is downstairs,” Jack sighed as he read the message the captain sent him saying that he had arrived.
Jack reached for his hat “you leave right now Jack and this is the end of us.” You warned having enough of being second place to hockey in Jacks life.
“I’ll see you around y/n.”
That was four months ago and you had been a wreck. Sure the job in California was a good distraction. You made new friends, Trevor and Alex occasionally checked up on you as they’d visit your office hoping you were doing as poorly as Jack was. Sure it was fucked up but their best friend was a mess so part of them believed that they wouldn’t have to feel as bad for him if you were in the same shoes.
Trevor didn’t notice how well you hid it but when Alex showed up to your apartment with a box of pizza and your favourite tub of ice cream you just broke down in front of him.
You would have liked to say that pulling into the driveway of the lake house you were feeling okay, but in reality you were ready to drive away and pretend you missed your flight.
That was no longer an option though when you were caught “y/n!” Quinn called out as he had walked out to grab something from his car.
Your best friend felt his heart grow warm at the sight of you “can’t believe you’re here.” He mumbled as he pulled you into a hug “made a promise.” You sighed knowing that he was the only thing keeping you there.
It seemed that Quinn didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were when he grabbed your bag from the trunk “the boys are going to be so excited to see you.” Your timing was in your opinion terrible as the boys were all sat on the couch playing an intense game of Mario Kart.
Cole seemed to be winning as Alex threw a pillow in his direction to distract him “don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch Turcotte.” You smiled as the eldest of boys avoided the pillow.
Dating Jack often meant you were used a wall whenever the boys were being stupid, the amount of water balloons you had been hit by were countless.
Three of the four boys seemed excited to see you as they paused the game to come hug you. But Jack remained glued to the couch, mainly because he didn’t think he’d ever see you again. Each time he played in LA he’d call his brother begging for your address because Jack was desperate to see you.
Ever since he walked out of the apartment he regretted that decision, Jack wanted you in his life, more often than not he needed you in it.
An awkward smile was on your face as you locked eyes with him “hey,” your voice was soft when everyone looked between you two.
If you were told that Jack looked as drained as you felt you would have sworn that people were lying to you. But low and behold the dark circles that seemed etched onto his face reminded you of how he was during his rookie season. Sleep deprived and broken making you feel guilty about leaving him.
Yes it was the best thing for your relationship that seemingly lost its spark. Yet it hurt because you still loved Jack just as much as you did when you believed you were crazy about him.
Quinn didn’t let your eyes linger on his brother for long “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” He offered as he placed his hand on your shoulder.
It reminded you of the fact that this was your first time at the brothers lake house that you wouldn’t be sharing a room with Jack “okay,” you nodded as you forced a smile onto your lips.
The next few hours were awkward, even the way the setting sun painted the skys a range of oranges to pinks couldn’t shake your thoughts of disappointment. You never expected to be best friends with Jack after you broke up but what you didn’t think was that it would be so awkward between you two “just go talk to her!” Quinn groaned as he noticed Jack stood by the sliding glass door as he stared at you.
You were sat on the swinging bench that you built with Jim one weekend as you were desperate to have one and he had the tool knowledge “what do I even say to her?” Jack had gone through all the different scenarios in his head and each time he got to you nothing came out of his mouth.
The Canucks player sighed “maybe start with giving her a refill,” he proposed as he noticed that the glass bottle beside you was empty.
When Jack didn’t move Quinn knew he had to say something more “all she wanted was to know that you love her.” The older Hughes boy explained as you had let the reason why you were so hurt slip one night to Quinn.
That message seemed to knock some sense into Jack as he nodded “thanks bro,” he mumbled as he pulled his brother into a hug.
Quinn wanted to laugh at his brothers gesture “just no breaking her heart for a second time.” The Canucks player warned as he pointed his finger at the devils player who nodded.
As much as Quinn wanted to be nosy and watch the interaction he instead decided to leave in fear of you kissing the middle Hughes “can I sit here?” Jack asked as he held out one of the drinks in his hand to you.
It should have taken you longer but you were quick to nod “sure,” you shifted over to the side so he could sit with you.
This was the first time that Jack got to look at you properly, your hair had grown and you seemed to pick up a tan in California “how have you been?” You opened the top of the bottle before you took a sip from it.
It made Jacks heart break “I love you,” he blurted out taking you by surprise.
Not often did he leave you speechless but this was a time he needed you to remain quiet “I miss the sound of you singing along to your playlists when I come home from practice. Even how I find your hair in the weirdest places!” That comment made you laugh “but fuck I miss you so much that I don’t want to be home anymore.” Tears formed in his eyes as he scanned your face for any type of reaction.
You wanted to jump into his arms, truly you did “I can’t move back yet,” you confessed as you had another year on your contract before you could transfer.
Jacks hand reached out for yours “I know baby,” his thumb rubbed against your skin as he smiled enjoying the feeling of your skin on his.
The reservations still remained in your head “I’m fine being second to hockey but I can’t be third to your friends again.” You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you tried not to cry.
The devils player used his other hand to cup your cheek forcing you to look at him “the moment you aren’t number one in my life I’ll let Luke hit me.” Another laugh left your lips as Luke was always stronger than his brother, especially over recent years.
Now seemed like the right time to just throw caution to the wind for you “I love you too,” you smiled when the boy wrapped his arms around you pulling you onto his lap.
Jack continue to place kisses against your face causing you to throw your head back with giggles “Jacky!” You squealed finally getting a moment to breathe.
“You’re my world baby, and I won’t let you forget it.”
#ambers 500 celly#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#hockey imagine#imagines#oneshots#hockey imagines#nhl imagine#nhl oneshot#amber writes fics
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wip wednesday
thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses
here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.
the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader
“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?”
Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other. “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?”
“You went to college—“
“College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.”
“That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”
flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!”
Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you.
“Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice.
“Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.”
She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.
chapter 10 for a safe haven
*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!
He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”
np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!
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Speak up please ! — Park Sunghoon
Genre: smut (18+ MDNI!!) quiet kid, college au, tutoring? classmates to lovers
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: handjob, teasing, edging, sub-hoon, swearing, dom-reader, implied round 2, pet names
Pairing: quiet!hoon x fem!reader
Masterlist
You scroll down your phone, minding your own business, You wait for the professor to arrive. So in the mean time you’re distracting yourself until you feel someone sit next to you. You glance up and see it’s sunghoon. Or the more well known as the “quiet kid” he wasn’t actually. Only when he was around people he didn’t know or didn’t like personally. But he does a 180 once he’s with his friends. You raise your brow to why he is sitting next to you.
But you notice him wearing his headphones. You doubt to get his attention. You won’t try to talk to him since neither of you spoke to each other before. So why try it if you’re barely going to get a response out of him. You sigh before focusing back to your phone. Boredom hits you quite easily. Putting your phone onto the table and look around the class and see it’s almost full. Oh yeah maybe that’s why he sat next to you. His cold demeanor made you slightly shiver in your seat. You face the front again and put your head down. Why does this class have to be very early in the morning? You could just skip, but..today was a important day. You hate catching up on work. You try to take a quick nap, but feel that someone is tapping you. You look up and see it’s Sunghoon. He pointed up at the front of the class and you shifted your gaze over to see the professor there. You sigh quietly before opening your laptop. Another day of hell.
Ever since that day Sunghoon has sat next to you. For no apparent reason too. Even when the class wasn’t even full of students he still sat next to you. You aren’t even friends. You wonder why he is sitting next to you when he used to sit in the corner silently. He is still quiet when sitting next to you, not bothering to make a conversation with you. Which you don’t mind at all. You just let him not stopping him.
Other people seemed to have noticed. Since a new rumor has started saying you and Sunghoon slept together one night and now are dating. Which is all false. You don’t even know if Sunghoon is a virgin or not. It wasn’t even your business anyways too. Guess you became seat partners that don’t talk but just allow the other one to sit next to them. That’s the way you’ll describe it. You only heard him talk once or twice. But not to you. It makes you wonder why you keep thinking about him talking to you. You don’t feel anything towards him at all. You just see him as a classmate. That’s all.
But one day that all changed. Sunghoon sat next to you like usual. That’s until he spoke to you for the first time.
“Heyy..ummm..do you perhaps do yesterday's assignment” oh.. in fact you did. “Yeah, why?” You said looking right at him. “I’m kind of stuck on a few questions and I thought..you know why not ask you.” So he thought of you doing your assignment. Interesting… but the thought of him thinking of you. Gosh you should really get a hold of yourself. You barely know each other.
“Actually..you’re lucky..since I did.” You said pull out your paper and slid it over to him. “Here just copy the answer” you look at him before going on your phone. Not bothering the boy. That’s until you feel him tap on your shoulder. You look up, and raise an eyebrow. “Need anything else?” You asked him. Sunghoon nodded his head. “I actually need help..”
“Help? Can’t you copy my answers or..” You said, really confused. “Yeah but..I would prefer it if you help me..since copying the answers itself won’t help me understand it..” You just nodded your head before placing your phone down and scooting a bit closer to him.
“So what do you need help with?” You asked, looking up at him meeting each other's eyes. You can feel your heartbeat go slightly faster. Sunghoon coughs awkwardly before speaking. “To be totally honest..everything..” he said in a low voice. You wanted to show your dissatisfaction but kept it to yourself.. “Well I doubt i will have time to explain everything for you.. since class is almost about to start.. maybe after your classes are over..?” You suggested. Sunghoon nodded his head, giving you his phone number. You thank him.
As you walked out of your last class.. which ended early today. You check your phone and see a message from Sunghoon. You opened it up seeing he sent his dorm room number.. and a time that he’ll be able to meet you up. You reply with “thank you” . You felt nervous. And you don’t know why. You try to shake off the feeling, but there’s only one thing on your mind. Sunghoon. You try to get him off your mind but he somehow makes his way into your mind. Do you like him? You doubt it..not really sure. You just decided to head over to your dorm room to kill some time off.
Last time you checked the time it was still way too early. But now after that nap you took. Not forgetting to set an alarm. You stare at the wall ahead..no thoughts..only for it to get cut off when you hear a small ping from your phone. You glance over and see it’s Sunghoon..you hover over your phone and open up the message. “Just got out..” you say almost in a whisper.. you look up to see the time.. “maybe I should start getting ready..” you thought to yourself. You dreaded not wanting to get out of bed after that nap. But you forced yourself to get out and just start getting ready to meet up with Sunghoon. You were still in the same clothes from earlier, since when arriving you just dropped your stuff down and fell asleep.
Few minutes of getting ready, you see it’s getting close to the time you’re supposed to meet up. You leave your dorm room and start walking over to the different dorm building, where Sunghoon’s dorm room is located. It didn’t take that long to find his room. You stood there slightly nervous.. It was your first time going to “tutor” someone. You lightly knock on the door taking a few steps back.. You only hear silence before trying again. You knock again. This time you can hear some rumbling inside. You question this. Until you hear the door unlocking.. The door opens revealing Sunghoon. He was wearing a basic outfit.. white shirt with gray sweatpants. And fuck you could your face getting hot from the view infront of you. You tried ignoring the feeling.
“Hey..” you said awkwardly waving your hand. You avoided eye contact whatsoever. Sunghoon nods his head, “Hey, come inside please…” Sunghoon says moving off to the side, allowing you to make your way to enter. You walk in, inspecting the entryway. Neat.. you thought.. You walk further into his dorm and see it’s very clean.. you hear the door close. Awkward silence fills the air. “Soo..?” You asked hopefully to make things less awkward. Which doesn’t help in any way.. “We can just go to my room..” He says before he starts walking off to his room. You followed him and noticed another room. Maybe his roommates. You reach his room. First impression of it.. clean.. Are you surprised? No.. you see his bed in the corner while his desk is right next to it..
“Nice room..” you continue looking around. “Sit here..” Sunghoon said pointing towards his chair.. you take a seat before Sunghoon walks out to grab another chair for himself. He comes back and takes a seat.. “Do you have a roommate?” You asked. “Yeah..but he’s not here right now.. out and about you know like the usual..” Right.. he was friends with some frat.. shocking especially since Sunghoon doesn’t go out a whole lot. Sunghoon sets his work down. You clear your throat before speaking. “Shall we get started..?” Sunghoon nodded his head as a reply. This was going to be awkward. You thought.
And oh boy were you so wrong. You actually got along together.. maybe a little too much.. you don’t know how it happened.. but here you were.. hands stroking..him..
“Please..fuck—“ Sunghoon whimper through his trembling lips.. you’ve been edging him. You’ll only continue stroking him if he gets the question right. You could tell he was trying his hardest too. Loving the feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock. “Nuh uh..remember I only continue if you get it right.. maybe if you complete it..I’ll let you come..” you say in a teasing voice holding his chin with your other hand. You were soaking through your panties but that didn’t matter now. You’re too focused on his pleasure to even care.
“Don’t worry baby you only have 1 question left..” you added.. hoping to give him some kind of motivation. “Fine…” Sunghoon said in a raspy voice.. throat so dry from all the moaning he’s done in the past few minutes. You were hoping to finish soon so his roommate didn’t catch you both. You kiss his cheek.. “So what's the answer hmm?” You say while smirking. “Fuck yn I don’t remember math that well..” Sunghoon leaned his head back. Helpless.. “you’ve learned this a long time ago how could you forget..”
“Yeah a long— time.. ago..I was what.. 14..?” You smirked at his response. “Hey..bad boys don’t get to come do they?” You looked at him in the eyes.. very glossy.. “no..no they don’t..” Sunghoon said shamefully.
“So I’ll ask again what’s the answer?” “Please I don’t know..” you sigh.. “baby..I won't let you cum until you answer correctly..but since I’m being nice..I’ll let you..” you say while speeding up the pace. Sunghoon began to moan louder..gasping. Not long after, he goes into euphoria..coming after being edged for a long time.. you start whispering into his ear.. “there you go..” “so good for me..” “You like this don’t you..?”
You let him calm down after that “tutoring” session. Once Sunghoon is out of his haze.. he coughs..awkwardly.. “You want me to help you clean up..” you asked softly. Sunghoon declines “no i'm okay..” you look over at Sunghoon and see him get up grabbing a towel.. you look back at your hand. Some of his cum on it. “Hey..I have a question..” you say. You see Sunghoon look over to you.. “yeah?”
“Why did you sit next to me all of a sudden?” you say, meeting his eyes. You noticed his eyes slightly widened, and his ears turning red.. “Well..umm..I..I like you” You were shocked by this news.. “Really?” “Yes really..I thought it was obvious.. or at least that's what others said..” “Oh..well you’re lucky I didn’t notice..” you say.. “But I do like you too..” softly smiling over to him. Sunghoon starts blushing..
“So..can I take you out on a date then..?” You nodded your head.. “Yeah but first help me out with my problem first..” You start spreading your legs open.. “yes ma’am”
Author’s note: dreaded completing this UMM HATE THIS SM YALL ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY. Almost been in the drafts for a month.. bare with me..
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
#kflixnet#mari: works *#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#park sunghoon#enha smut#enha scenarios#enha#enha reactions#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon oneshots#enhypen fanfic#enhypen smut#enhypen suggestive
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college au!chase davenport x fem!reader
summary: you're a college student. you go on a date with adam, the campus' fuckboy, but you didn't know he had a brother...
cw: kinda nsfw!! swearing, mentions of sex/hooking up, heavy make out in a public place, you and chase get reaaally touchy, adam's an asshole (sorry adam). that's it :)
a/n: part 2 here!! this is not what i was going for when writing another chase x reader but i thought "fuck it, chase smut"
minors do not interract!!
"y/n guess what, this guy at the party yesterday told me he saw you on campus and wanted to ask you out so i told him we're roommates and he gave me his number." your roommate says, the morning after she went to a frat party.
"wait really? what's his name?" you reply with a mix of surprise and excitement in your voice.
"adam davenport"
"oh my god that fuckboy wanted my number?!" you say, kind of disappointed. frat guys weren't really your type and adam was definitely the complete opposite of what you want in a guy. he is known on campus for two things: his parties and being a total asshole to girls.
"i don't want anything to do with him, especially after my last relationship, i don't need a guy like that."
"you don't have to date him, what you need is a rebound to forget your ex. go out with him, hook up and then leave, that's what he does anyway." your friend's plan wasn't that bad, you take it into consideration.
"to be fair, adam is kinda hot and i do need a rebound..sure i'll text him, why not."
-
adam didn't live on campus, he had a small apartment downtown his father paid for so he didn't have to live in the dorms. after a bit of texting he asked you to come over to his place. you didn't expect much from this date, your idea was to follow your roommate's plan and you made sure to look your best in order to go through with it.
"hey, come on in." adam says opening the door for you. the apartment was small but tidy. you enter the apartment and make your way into the living room, which was an open space including the kitchen. sitting at the kichen island was a brunette guy with a black long sleeve tshirt, focused writing something on his laptop. he looks away from the screen the moment he hears your voice.
"hi, I'm y/n."
"oh, he's my brother, chase. we're roommates, don't pay attention to him."
"you're in college too, chase?" you ask.
"yeah i'm a physics major." he looks at you and slightly smile, a small dimple forming on his cheek.
"no way i'm a physics major too, how come i've never seen you at the lectures?"
"getting noticed by girls is not his strong suit. why don't we go to my room, we can watch a movie." adam says quickly, trying to get you away from his brother. it was clear he wasn't supposed to be there but adam couldn't do anything about it.
instead, you get closer to chase "what are you working on?"
"i'm writing a paper on the poly-exclusion principle. it's weird, usually the girls adam brings home don't do this much talking. they aren't physics major either. " he stops writing and leans a bit onto the table to get closer to you. he looks at you with that slight smile. his eyes were like watercolors, brown blue and green swirling together, framed by the fair mauve color of the skin underneath. he wasn't getting as much sleep as he should be.
you want to reply but his beauty his mesmerizing. his ruffled brown hair, his rosy lips, his hands, which had a dash of red on the knuckles from the cold weather. you just can't look away.
"ok that's enough small talk, let's go y/n" adam interrupts your brief conversation, taking you by the arm and slowly leading you to the corridor.
"if you're going to have sex please be quiet. i have a lot of work to do." chase says loudly as the two of you walk away.
how many girls does he bring home? do i really wanna be just a number? you think as you walk into adam's room. you start to reconsider your plan, you aren't so sure you want to hook up with him anymore.
-
adam's laptop is set on the bed, a movie playing in the background. you're making out but it's not leading anywhere, too many thoughts going through your head.
"so...you wanna hook up or..?" adam pulls away from the kiss.
"uhh..i-"
adam stops you mid sentence "it's ok if you don't, but if we're not gonna do it then imma ask you to leave."
"what?" his audacity baffles you.
"yeah imma be honest, that's the only reason i asked you out so if you're not cool with that there's no reason to keep this going. i actually have another girl i gotta call-"
"oh my fucking god you cannot be serious." you stand up, hastily gather your things and head to the door.
"what? i said i was gonna be honest." adam says suprised.
"listen i knew you were famous for one night stands but jesus fucking christ have some tact!" you open the front door and leave, swinging it close behind you.
"byee! have a good night!" chase shouts, sitting in the same spot with his eyes glued to the screen. "well that's a first! she was nice."
"fuck off chase."
-
the next day you decided to spend the afternoon studying at the campus' library. you arrive later than you usually do and hope to still find a good spot. after a some wondering around you see a familiar figure sitting at a table with a laptop open. the brown haired boy from the previous night sitting at the table alone, you walk over to him.
"hey, chase, right?" you remembered his name, matter of fact you thought about him a lot after leaving adam's apartment, there's something about him that just pulls you in you can't help it.
"hey, good to see you here." he smiles again, this time showing his pearly white teeth.
"mind if i sit here with you?"
"no, not at all."
"how's the paper turning out?" you pick the the seat right across him.
"It's driving me insane, i think i spent so much time writing it I'm starting to show signs of severe sleep deprivation. how about you? what are you studying?" he rubs his tired eyes and run his fingers through his already messy hair. that boy seriously needs to sleep.
"i'm just going over some course material. I've missed a couple lectures, not that the professor knows how to teach this stuff anyway." you say as you take out your books and laptop out of your bag.
"i can help you out if you want." he leans a bit to see what material you're going to revise.
"that would be great, actually. thank you so much."
a few hours go by and now the room you're in is basically empty, the only sound filling the deep silence is the quiet mormouring of you and Chase talking. the two of you are now sitting next to eachother, not really studying, you gave that up around half an hour ago.
"by the way i'm so sorry about adam, he can be a real asshole sometimes."
"don't worry about it. if i knew he had a brother i wouldn't have gone out with him." a light chuckle leaves your mouth as you finish your sentence, then you realize the words you just pronounced. you turn your eyes upon chase and see him with his head lightly tilted, a smirk on his face and his watercolored eyes gazing at you with a glimpse of amusement. he chuckles.
"i'm sorry, that was weird. forget i said that. what i meant was adam's not my type anyway." an even worse feeling washes over you, god why can't i just shut up your thoughts are interrupted suddenly by chase's low and soft voice.
"what's your type then?" so many words fill up your thoughts but none are coming out. you stare at his lips, his soft, plum, roseate lips that had a blood colored aura in the center. you want to know what it's like to kiss them, to bite them, to feel them all over you, to feel them brush against your neck as he whispers sweet words to you.
you don't say anything, your body leans closer to him and you slowly close your eyes, all of a sudden you feel your lips meeting with chase's for a quick moment. your eyes open again and your faces are inches apart. chase places carefully a hand on your cheek and gently places his lips back on yours. he moves with such care it seems if he kisses you any harder you're going to break. he kisses you so tenderly it sends chills down your spine. he's so gentle and warm, it's like cold was the only thing your body has ever known until he touched you and heated you up.
he brushes his tongue against your lower lip and haltingly pushing it into your mouth, making your tongue swirl together. you felt your body get even hotter, your heart starts to race, his tongue felt so good you didn't want the kiss to end. his hands start to wonder down your body, feeling every curve, caressing you, studying your shape with his fingertips. his hands go down until they reach your hips, then they slowly make their way back up. he stops right underneath your breasts. your body's craving more of his touch. you need to feel him. all of him. you move one of his hand up and he cups one of your breasts squeezing it, making you moan softly into the kiss. your sweet sounding moan makes his lungs clench and cheeks burn. as he starts to lightly circle around your nipple with his thumb your hands travel up his thighs and get closer to his groin. his pants are getting tighter.
just like that chase pulls away from the kiss and moves his hands away. "we're in public, i think we went a little too far."
you laugh, "yeah i- uh, i think so." you don't care, truth be told if it were for you, you'd be bent over the table with your pants pulled down and chase pumping his dick into you. you couldn't care less about someone accidentally seeing you, you need more of his touch. you've never craved anything more than this. you need him.
"It's getting late, we should go." chase starts to gather his things. "we- uh, we should study together again...sometimes."
"yeah, sure uh...here..take this." you rip a piece of paper from your notebook, write your number on it and hand it to him. "text me, or call me or whatever you want." you pack your things.
"sure i'll see you at the lecture, goodnight." chase leaves and as he walks out of the library he looks at the small piece of paper.
"adam's gonna kill me"
-
a/n: thanks for reading <33 PART 2
#lab rats#chase davenport#chase davenport x reader#chase davenport x fem!reader#lab rats chase#labrats#lab rats x reader
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Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡
🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader
🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment
🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby
🎧 wc: 1.4k
You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.
Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.
He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.
Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.
You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.
It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.
“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.
“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”
“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”
That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.
“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”
“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”
“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”
“Tough.”
“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”
“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.
His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.
“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.
“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.
“Excuse me?”
You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”
“The Golden Rule.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”
“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”
You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”
He sighed, “10 at least.”
Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.
All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.
You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.
“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.
“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”
“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”
“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”
“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”
“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”
He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.
“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”
His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”
“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.
“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”
“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.
“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.
You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.
He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”
“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.
“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”
“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.
You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.
“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.
“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.
You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”
“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”
You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”
Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.
He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.
“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.
He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”
You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.
Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.
Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.
“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.
You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.
You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.
“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.
You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.
“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.
“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”
“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.
“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.
“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”
“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”
“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.
“Iced?”
“Always.”
He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.
“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.
❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:
@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon
#enhypen#enhypen ff#lee heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines
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it's raining love ft. na jaemin
“you think love is hard? try predicting the fucking weather. that’s right. nature’s my own worst enemy.”
word count: 4.8k (it's one word away from 4.9 omg)
genre/archetypes: loosely inspired by forecasting love and weather, romance story, lots and lots of fluff, a little bit of comedy, adorably sweet and definitely tooth rotting :) also there’s going to be wrong terminology and stupid weather mistakes and i’m so sorry :((
synopsis: you and na jaemin are both meteorologists, working at the korea meteorological administration. of course, you love your job and the people working there: however, it becomes hard to deal with when you're constantly working overtime with no pay and a jaemin crisis in your brain.
notes: i love this story so much and i loved working on it, it’s near and dear to my heart! i hope you guys enjoy it too! i think it’s super fun, although i probably bungled most of the weather terminology lol
warnings/potential triggers: none! a little bit of maturity with the mention of a condom, some swearing
taglist: @lovesuhng
Sometimes, you hated the weather.
Which was ironic, because you worked with weather on a daily basis. As a meteorologist, you spent most of your time poring over satellite data and maps of wind charts: so, you spent most of your time with weather. But, you supposed, this was natural. Everyone hated their job once they started working in it.
When you were in sixth grade, you and Na Jaemin, your childhood best friend, had stumbled across the concept of meteorology. You both were instantly sucked into the magical world of predicting weather. When you first successfully listed out the weather conditions for the next seven days, you felt like a god.
Now? You were so done with your job. The lack of staff at the weather station meant that you were working overtime constantly. Today was the first day that you had managed to negotiate an ending time of 9 pm. You loved predicting weather, scanning the various charts to figure out what was going on in the atmosphere. But when you were forced to do this for hours each day running on low sleep? You had low motivation to do anything. Example: yesterday, you squealed over the vending machine restocking.
The. Vending. Machine. Restocking.
And it didn’t help that Na Jaemin was constantly a fucking ray of sunshine. He never seemed to stop- not throughout high school, not throughout college, and certainly not now. You didn’t know what was powering him. Could it be ambition? No, Jaemin was too nice for that. Was he a power generator? Did he only subside on the goodness of his heart, the power of his internal sun, and cups of coffee with eight shots of espresso?
Regardless of whatever he subsisted on, Na Jaemin was constantly there for you, and you appreciated that. But sometimes, he could be incredibly smothering even when you wanted to be left alone. Like now.
“Jaemin, I don’t need a break from work,” you sighed tiredly for the umpteenth time.
“You do!” Jaemin exclaimed. “Look at you, slumped down in your chair. You look very, very tired.”
You glared at him.
“I know you mean well, but that was incredibly insulting.”
Jaemin winced.
“Oops, sorry. You look amazing! I promise I’ll take you anywhere you want. A bar? Done. Club? Done. Home? Done. To the park even when it’s raining because you want to sit under the patio and eat ice cream even when I told you you’ll get a stomach ache from it and then you do get a stomach ache? Done. I won’t even baby you! I’ll be super, super good.”
You roll your eyes.
“Jaemin, I just need to work, get money, go home, and watch a movie. With ramen. And ice cream.”
“Done!” Jaemin exclaimed happily
“No- I didn’t mean-” you groaned and slumped further down in your chair. Secretly, you were enjoying Jaemin’s efforts, but you weren’t going to tell Jaemin that.
Jaemin smiled at you.
“Alright, see you soon!” He blew a kiss towards you.
You blinked, startled. Jaemin winked and walked away to his office, where he managed the seven day and ten day weather reports. Rubbing your eyes, you sighed tiredly, checking to see if Karina and Minjeong, your friends and fellow meteorologists, had noticed your interaction. Relieved they hadn’t, you hid your red face behind a rain chart. You didn’t want to deal with Jaemin’s shenanigans right now.
Jaemin had always been a naturally flirty person, but recently, he had been ramping it up. From winks to “accidental” touches, he had done a lot of things for the past two months. Of course, Karina and Minjeong had noticed incredibly quickly, and they wouldn’t stop teasing you about it. You, on the other hand, felt increasingly disoriented and confused by Jaemin’s actions.
To tell the truth, you liked Jaemin. But you couldn’t help but remember a specific day in the office. A day when Jaemin, to another meteorologist who was asking whether Jaemin liked you or not, replied:
“Her? Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!”
The meteorologist had then asked you out the following day, but you refused.
And Jaemin denying he liked you hadn’t happened once, either. This had happened not once, not twice, not even three times, but ten. Ten times.
“No, I don’t like her in that way!” Jaemin would always say.
Of course, Jaemin was never rude about not liking you- except for what he said in the office (you were still salty about that). But you didn’t have the courage to ask what Jaemin meant by his words.
Ever since the office incident, you had come to realize two things. One: you liked Jaemin. Two: you would never ask him to date you. Your friendship with Jaemin was too precious to risk asking him a question like that.
So even though Jaemin had ramped up all of his suspicious and flirty behaviors, you were too worried about ruining your friendship and too tired over work to reciprocate. Although, you mused, it would be nice to spend some time with Jaemin today. You hadn’t really done so in a while.
Returning to the satellite data, you consulted a few maps of today’s weather, ultimately deciding that there wouldn’t be a lot of change and hoping you were right so you wouldn’t have to stare at the maps again. Allowing your face to cool down, you then scooted your chair over to Karina’s desk. She was sipping on coffee and typing up a weather report for her boss.
“Hey, you can probably say the weather conditions for tomorrow are going to be like today’s.”
Karina smiled.
“Really? That’s amazing, because my boyfriend’s planning on taking me to a beach! If the weather’s this nice tomorrow-” Karina sighed dreamily. “It’ll be absolutely perfect.”
Minjeong, who sat across Karina, poked her head over the desk wall.
“Did someone say a beach date? Karina, are you entering your lovestruck era?” All three of you giggled.
“Oooooh, I haven’t seen you entering this era since that man,” you replied, chuckling as you returned to your desk. Karina groaned behind you.
“We don’t speak of my mistakes!” she yelled. You laughed.
“Hey, I noticed Jaemin’s been talking to you a lot recently,” Winter added, smirking slightly. You rolled your eyes.
“We’re just friends! And we’ve been friends since kindergarten! I know everything about that man. There’s a reason why I’m not attracted to him,” you replied.
Winter smirked widely. “You should look at yourself when you talk to him. Your eyes go starry and your cheeks flush. Like right now!”
You patted your cheeks, surprised to find they were still a little red. You thought they’d cooled down. Maybe not.
“It’s hot in here!” you complained. “My cheeks are always red!”
“Remember that time Minjeong added too much blush to her cheeks and she looked like a clown?” Karina snickered. Minjeong rushed to hit Karina, complaining as she did so.
“We don’t talk about that!”
Karina smiled, and turned to you. “Thanks for the tips about tomorrow’s weather! Definitely double check again, though.”
You groaned.
“I know, I know- but remember that guy who didn’t double check any of his work? He got fired soon after for making a bunch of blunders,” Karina added.
“I don’t make that many mistakes!” you exclaimed, but you knew Karina was right. You were tired and ready to go home, but it was important you finish your tasks for the day so that the weather reports could go out soon. And it was important you finished your tasks correctly. You breathed in and smiled. Of course, your work was always annoying, but the people here always made it better. Karina and Minjeong were always joking around but uber-talented when it came to weather reports- and negotiating with the higher-ups for more snacks in the office.
Sighing, you double-checked the weather reports again: and that’s when you noticed something strange. In one of the upper-air weather maps, there was a weird wind pattern breaking off of the others.
This was strange. You quickly did a quick search of the upper-air wind patterns for the last seven days, then the last two weeks, then the last month. Your brain went into meteorologist mode. The wind hadn’t moved like this for a while. It was summer, so the prevailing winds should have been moving southwesterly in South Korea. Instead, the wind was moving towards the east.
You gasped. This could only mean a squall, and that meant active weather instead of the bludgeoning heat Seoul had received all week.
“Karina! I need to show you something!” you exclaimed.
Karina rolled her chair over to your desk, where you showed her the strange wind pattern that meant active weather. Karina groaned.
“A storm? Oh, man, my date is absolutely ruined. That’s a large cold front too. Oh man, there’s definitely going to be thunderstorms tomorrow!”
You patted her back.
“Just move the date inside. Rain and wind can be incredibly romantic and also very aesthetic- provided you’re inside instead of outside. If you’re outside, things get dicey,” you reassured Karina.
“Oh! I can schedule a restaurant or something! We can eat at a fancy restaurant!” Then, Karina smiled knowingly.
“See? This is exactly why I tell you to check your work,” Karina beamed. You rolled your eyes, and Karina rolled back over to her desk, looking for a way to salvage her date. Meanwhile, you prepared your data and walked over to your supervisor, Minhyung. After presenting the data to him, he nodded.
“That’s a good thing to catch. Gunning for that new supervisor position?” he teased as he typed up the data, sending the update throughout the building.
You smiled weakly.
“No, just trying to predict the weather. So, mostly failing,” you sighed, returning back to your seat. Finally, you were done for the day. The clock struck nine, and people around you started to pack up.
“Come with us for drinks!” Karina said, holding out her hand to you. You shook your head.
“Jaemin and I are going to go watch a movie.”
Karina and Minjeong giggled to each other.
“Just make sure you bring a con-”
“Okay!” you exclaimed as you pushed them out the door. “Bye now. Have fun!” You could hear Karina and Minjeong’s giggles as you gathered your stuff. Jaemin walked over to you and offered to carry your bag as you put on your coat.
“Did you call a taxi?” Jaemin asked as you both walked out of the office.
“Yup! It should be coming…” you consulted your watch. “Now!”
The taxi pulled up, and you both got in. You pulled up a movie recommendations list after telling the driver where to go, and debated over what movie you should watch together.
“I personally think we should watch something fun and cozy. It’s Friday! Let’s relax or something!” Jaemin exclaimed, pointing to a movie on the screen.
“Those are so boring, Nana. Come on, let’s watch an action movie or something. Mission Impossible, maybe?”
Jaemin pouted.
“But I want to watch something cute!”
You sighed.
“Fine, we’ll watch Barbie or whatever.”
“Barbie’s not a cute movie! Well, yes, it’s incredibly heartwarming, but it sends a deeper message about the role of women in society!”
As Jaemin continued to talk, you leaned back in your seat, smiling.
You felt a sense of belonging with Jaemin. A sense of happiness. He was the friend who comforted you, the parent who took care of you, and he wasn’t afraid to let you know when you messed up. At this point, he wasn’t even a friend. He was family, and it felt really nice to talk to him after a long day at work.
Maybe Karina was right. Maybe he would make a good boyfriend.But you had always kept your friendship like this, and you weren’t about to ruin it by asking Jaemin that question.
But the question lingered in your head throughout the night. It lingered throughout the movie, it lingered throughout your shower, and it became particularly insistent when Jaemin decided he’d sleep over. You had Jaemin’s clothes in your dresser. This was close to boyfriend and girlfriend behavior. At this point, it was that kind of behavior. Jaemin even decided to sleep in the same bed with you, and you realized something.
Maybe you should ask Jaemin if he liked you or not. After all, who sleeps in the same bed with their platonic friend?
You pushed it out of your head. You weren’t brave enough to ask, not after that incident. You reiterated to yourself that you were comfortable with your friendship.
The next morning, you hurriedly rushed into the office, five minutes late. It wasn’t until you both walked to the office doors that you realized the implications of showing up at the office with Jaemin next to you. You ordered Jaemin to go in first, and he did so confusedly.
As a result, you were five minutes late, and you swore you could see Minhyung giving you a pointed look as you slid into your seat. You winced and turned immediately to your work. Pulling up the wind charts for the day’s weather, you sighed and settled into a haze of weather predictions, data, and satellite images.
Sure enough, it started raining soon. You smiled a bit, pleased with your correct prediction, and continued on. Hopefully the people of South Korea remembered to bring umbrellas.
Around lunchtime, Karina came over with a worried look on her face.
“What’s up?” you asked, setting the charts aside. You hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary so far. That meant less work for you.
“Something’s happening over here,” Karina said, asking you to turn to the ocean real-time data. You looked closely at the computer screen. The picture depicted made you gasp.
“Oh no,” you murmured as you looked. “Is it a storm system? Does this mean a typhoon?”
Karina nodded.
“The conditions are perfect too. Warm water above 26 degrees, great distance from the Equator, low vertical wind shear- the tropical wave is present too. This is bad.”
“How are the wind speeds?” you asked.
“Gaining quickly, and they definitely aren’t slowing down,” Karina replied. “I really hope this doesn’t hit us- oh man, I was just checking the ocean currents and zoomed out to see what was happening!”
“And thank goodness you did, because this is big,” you replied. “I’m going to go tell Minhyung. He needs to get this down to the Natural Disasters station right away.” You scrambled to tell Minhyung while Karina kept looking at the data for any new signs.
“Minhyung!”
“What?” Minhyung asked, setting aside his work. “You look worried.”
“We have a possible typhoon situation,” you said, showing Minhyung the picture on your laptop. “Can you look?”
Minhyung looked.
“What’s the situation? Are the necessary requirements all present?”
You rattled the list off, and Minhyung’s face became anxious. He nodded and moved to call the Natural Disasters station downstairs.
“They knew about this already and are looking into it,” Minhyung replied after he finished the call.
“Do they need any help?” you asked.
“They should be fine, but go and notify the seven and ten day weather report. Plus, see if they need any help. Karina and Minjeong have got it handled over here. It’s going to develop and make landfall quickly under these conditions. Besides, you need a little variation in your work.”
You looked at Minhyung quizzically, and he beamed.
“Everyone needs a little variety from time to time! I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of down recently, and it’ll do you some good to help out, get some pep back into your step. Helping others releases endorphins!”
You smiled at Minhyung, touched that your supervisor cared so much about you. As you walked quickly down to Natural Disasters, you almost crashed into Jaemin as you did.
“What’s going on?” he asked, and you told him everything. Jaemin’s face looked shocked.
“Is there an estimated time of arrival? How close is the typhoon to South Korea?” Jaemin asked.
“Not yet, but ask Natural Disasters. They’ll probably have an answer for you.”
Jaemin smiled at you, and you frowned quizzically.
“I’m proud of you! You’re gonna save lives.”
You smiled.
“Thanks, but technically it was all Karina. Hopefully we can do something before it arrives.”
Jaemin nodded. “Yeah, maybe we can help Natural Disasters coordinate with public officials to evacuate and shore up beaches.”
You smiled and Jaemin pulled you in for a hug.
“Good job!” Jaemin said as he patted you on the back. You smiled, savoring the warmth of Jaemin’s body and the smell of his cologne. Friends definitely hugged each other, but for a moment, you let yourself imagine you and Jaemin were truly dating.
Just then, Minjeong walked by, letting out a whistle at the two of you.
“Just date already!” she yelled, entering the bathroom. Both of your faces reddened, and Jaemin stepped back quickly, letting go of you first. You frowned slightly, disappointed.
“I should go,” Jaemin stammered.
“Me too! Yeah, lots of, uh, stuff to do,” you said breathlessly. You walked quickly back to your desk, face red. You were flushed from Minjeong’s remark, but also a little confused at why Jaemin would step back so quickly. On one hand, you knew why he would. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by Jaemin’s actions.
In the afternoon, you avoided Minjeong and helped the Natural Disasters people make plans for the hurricane. You realized how hard it was to do so, and for a while, you were wholly focused on your work. So focused, in fact, that you forgot all about your gripes with your job. It did feel nice to do something and help others.
“We’ll have to add sandbags near these locations and evacuate the people living near here,” Yujin, the head of the Natural Disasters department, said. You nodded, taking a picture and adding it to the email.
“How about we create some more reinforcements too? And we can air our typhoon checklist commercial on TV, reminding people to have an emergency kit ready and everything else,” you suggested.
Yujin nodded.
“That’s a great idea! In fact, why don’t you go check with TV to make sure they have something ready?”
You nodded, smiling. It really did feel good to help.
You went down and checked in with the people working at the TV station, then came back up and continued to help Yujin with the preparations. At the end of the day, Yujin thanked you for your help, complimenting you on your work ethic, and walked you back to your desk, stopping at Minhyung’s on her way down.
You sat down, realizing that you hadn’t felt this content at work in ages. You felt refreshed, like you had a purpose, and you were eager to continue helping. Maybe that was what you should approach your work as: something that could help people. Your weather reports did make a difference. It informed people what to wear, whether to bring an umbrella, and what preparations they should take around the house.
You hadn’t really felt motivation in the past month, but you realized this could help you get out of your slump. Of course, it wasn’t a catch-all, but it helped you feel a little happier. Smiling, you got back to work with renewed energy.
You noticed Karina and Minjeong talking, and you listened in on their conversation. Minjeong revealed she had made plans for dinner, and you pressed her for all the details.
“What does it matter? I’m not going to be able to go on it anyway,” Minjeong sighed, scrolling through the recently recorded temperatures. “I’ve canceled already. This hurricane situation is more important, although I would love to go on a date right now. And the reservation! I spent good money on that, and I can’t even cancel it? What a waste.”
Suddenly, Jaemin walked out to the printer, and Minjeong gasped. You narrowed your eyes, mentally preparing for what was coming next.
“You two should go to dinner!” Minjeong shrieked, causing Jaemin to look over, confused. Minjeong hushed her voice.
“Come on, do it for me? I can’t cancel the reservation, and Minhyung’s going to let you go. You predicted that rainstorm the other day, and you helped Karina predict that hurricane. Also, I overheard Yujin’s conversation with Minhyung. Yujin was positively gushing over you! He’s sure to let you go.”
Karina smirked too.
“I’m even willing to give you all the credit for the hurricane- provided you go on that dinner date with Jaemin.”
You shook your head.
“I’m needed here! I can’t just abandon you two.” Something about your meeting with Jaemin being called a date made you feel antsy and anxious. Like you were afraid of something. Besides, you had just found your new motivation for work.
“What, we suggest a date with Jaemin and suddenly you’re all goody-two shoes? You’ve complained about this job for the past month, so here’s a break for you! Please, do it for me?” Minjeong pleaded. “I will beg. I will get down on my knees and plead.”
You frowned.
“Fine. I will. But Jaemin has to say yes first.”
You walked over to Jaemin, hoping he wouldn’t say yes.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me? You asked.
“Totally!” Jaemin beamed, and you put your head in your hands.
“I just have to ask Minhyung first,” you said, praying to all the gods out there that he wouldn’t say yes. You walked over to Minhyung, Jaemin trailing after you.
“Minhyung, is it possible I can take some time off to have dinner with Jaemin tonight?”
Minhyung stared at you two. Behind your back, Karina and Minjeong held up signs that said “do it for the love!”
Minhyung smiled.
“Totally! I understand the importance of spending time with your significant other. Yes, you can go. Just remember to make up those hours some time this week.”
“Significant other?” you squawked while Jaemin smiled cheerfully at Minhyung. As you walked out the door, Jaemin, Minjeong, and Karina all cheered while you closed your eyes. This was not going to be easy.
“What do you want to eat?” you asked, looking at Jaemin. For someone who wore sweatpants at home all day, he cleaned up nicely, not looking at all out of place in the fancy restaurant.
Meanwhile, you felt nervous, anxious, and for some reason, very prickly. Prickly all over. Was this a date? Was it not a date? What were you supposed to do on a meeting which was now a dinner date? The word “date” kept tripping you up.
You felt terrified, if you were being frank with yourself. The date was nice, Jaemin looked dashing, and you could get used to this. But you didn’t want to. Because Jaemin didn’t like you in a romantic way. That’s what you always told yourself.
So the moment you asked Jaemin and something like this slipped out of your hands, you would remember these moments with pain.
“Honestly? Whatever you want,” Jaemin beamed.
“No, Jaemin, I mean it. I don’t feel like choosing, and it would be great if you could choose?” you asked.
“No! I’m good with anything, I promise.”
You tried to breathe in, but you finally snapped.
“Stop it. Stop being so nice!” you yelled, frustrated, your nervousness coming to a head. The restaurant became silent, and your face reddened.
“I- I have to go to the bathroom,” you said, excusing yourself, making your way to the back of the restaurant. In the bathroom, you slapped cold water on your cheeks and winced at yourself in the mirror. How could you be so stupid?
You composed yourself, going over the two rules you had set in your head. Don’t be too wishful, and don’t overthink Na Jaemin’s behavior. Opening the door, you were shocked to find Jaemin outside waiting for you.
“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, worriedly. “You’ve been worried ever since we got into the car.”
“What, was it that obvious?” you muttered.
“Yeah. You have a tell, and it’s really obvious.”
You sighed. “What is it?”
“You bounce your leg.”
You frown.
“Why are you so worried about today?” Jaemin asked. “And tell the truth. I can tell when you’re lying.”
“What, do I have another tell?” you remark sarcastically.
“Yup. Your eyes shift.”
You sigh again. “Okay, Jaemin. Stop.”
Jaemin closed his mouth, waiting for your reply.
You frowned deeply. Minjeong and Karina had been encouraging you for weeks, ever since they got wind that you might like Jaemin. So you should have the courage to ask him out. But you were so scared. So scared of ruining a friendship, one that you held closely to your heart.
Maybe it didn’t hurt to ask about that day at work. That wasn’t asking Jaemin an “if he liked you” question, that was just a simple clarification. It wouldn’t lead to anything.
You mustered up your courage and took a breath.
“Jaemin, about that day in the office- did you really mean what you said?”
“What day?” Jaemin frowned.
“You know. The day when you said you would never like me romantically,” you murmured. “Remember? When you said ‘Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!’”
Jaemin laughed.
“This isn’t funny!” you groaned.
“No! Of course I didn’t mean it!” Jaemin chuckled, taking your hands in his. “I was probably too straight with my words. I was trying to encourage that person to ask you out.”
Jaemin paused, thinking.
“And… well, perhaps his words annoyed me a little bit.”
You paused. Was Jaemin implying what you thought he was implying?
“Him asking me out annoyed you?”
Jaemin nodded.
“Does that mean…”
Jaemin smiled and pulled you in for a hug.
“Yes, I like you,” he whispered in your ear. You stepped back, staring at Jaemin.
“What did you say?” you asked, making sure you heard Jaemin properly.
“I like you!” Jaemin said.
“You like me?” you asked in wonderment, looking into Jaemin’s eyes.
“Yes, you dumbass!” Jaemin replied, giggling. “My god, you must be really dense. Did my behavior in the past two months mean nothing to you?”
“Shut up,” you giggled, hitting Jaemin’s back. He smiled, and his eyes flickered to your lips. He leaned in to kiss you…
And was interrupted by a voice from behind.
“Hello? You know, some people need to use the bathroom too! You’re blocking the way!”
Looking out from behind Jaemin, you noticed a line of people who needed to use the bathroom, voicing their disappointment and annoyance. Faces turning red, you quickly led Jaemin back to your dinner table.
“I want to keep kissing you,” Jaemin pouted.
“I know- but first, let's enjoy dinner at the expense of Minjeong,” you smirked, and Jaemin smiled at you.
When you finally left the restaurant, Jaemin pulled you in for a kiss. You had received your fair share of kisses over the years, but as Jaemin’s mouth moved against yours, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You gripped his shoulders tightly.
Thunder crackled in the air, and rain broke out over the city. As Jaemin let go, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ears and smiled. You smiled back, and leaned in for another kiss. Jaemin wrapped his hands around your waist, kissing you with all his might.
Even if it was cold, even if it was raining, nothing could stop you right now. You felt like you were on top of the world.
“All right, everyone! The typhoon’s going to hit soon- start monitoring!” Minhyung exclaimed. Everyone in the office sat at their desks, watching their screens closely. Karina and Minjeong had even stopped bickering with each other.
You nodded, focusing on your computer screen.
The last few days had been a blur in your mind- you had helped workers evacuate, monitored hurricane conditions, worked with the government to update them on the latest data, and somehow, also spent lots and lots of time with Jaemin- mostly kissing him, although you talked to each other as well.
Through the process, you discovered what you really enjoyed: helping the people be safe and protecting them from anything that could happen. Thus, a few days ago, you had asked Minhyung to transfer you from your department to the Natural Disasters one. Minhyung and Yujin had both approved. Karina and Minjeong had reacted with varying levels of approval, but eventually, they both came around. And, of course, Jaemin favored whatever you wanted to do.
As you took notes on the data and hoped that all your precautions would work, you felt a strange sense of home. You looked back to see Jaemin standing behind you. He wrapped his arms around your neck, humming a tune in your ear.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” you whispered.
“I asked Minhyung if I could be with you!” Jaemin exclaimed, smiling wide. He looked over your shoulder at the data. Taking your pencil, he scribbled something on your paper, then added a heart next to it. Hesitating, Jaemin kissed your cheek and continued humming.
“What are you humming?” you asked happily.
“Oh… nothing,” Jaemin whispered, smiling.
At that moment, you felt nothing but peace.
#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#nct dream#nct#jaemin#jaemin fanfic#jaemin fanfiction#na jaemin#nct x female reader#nct x you#nct x y/n#nct dream fanfiction#nct dream fanfic#nct imagines#nct fic#jaemin fic#sophiiwrites#jaemin ff#romance#office romance
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Love Playlist #3: Make It Right (Lee Know)
«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»
"It hurts to love you."
Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!reader
Genre: college au, angst, exes to lovers
Warnings: swearing, messy break-up, mc has a fear of the dark, mild haunted house/Halloween descriptions
Word Count: 18.3k
*Written for @skzwritingcafe's July/August event: Summertime Confessions ☀️
Special thanks to @baekhyyun & @simpforyongbokk for beta-reading!! 💘
“I love you.”
You roll your eyes and shove Minho away, trying to suppress the giggles that threaten to spill out. “Stop that. We need to concentrate, or we’ll never find an apartment.”
“I’m definitely concentrating.” Minho grins mischievously. “On you.”
Laughing at his antics, you shake your head, shutting your computer for a brief intermission to tend to Minho’s insatiable appetite for your attention. Your boyfriend never fails to make you smile, no matter what.
“I love you too, you menace.”
Minho wakes up with a start. He groggily glances over at the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. Nearly 3 a.m. Slinging his legs over the side of the couch, Minho just sits in that position for a good twenty minutes, marinating in the pitiful mixture of his sweat and tears.
The night before, he’d attempted to drown away his sorrows at some bar he stumbled upon while aimlessly wandering the city streets. It hadn’t worked, obviously, because his wallet wasn’t bottomless, and the pain was too great. But in true character, Minho had tried anyway, until his savior found him slumped over the counter and led him back to a safe place to sober up.
“Stay here as long as you need to,” Chan had said, tucking Minho’s drowsy form into a bundle of blankets on the couch, like he was a little kid.
Minho had tried to resist, mumbling complaints towards his friend’s retreating back, but fell into a troubled slumber before Chan even reached his own bedroom. Now he’s wide awake and unwilling to be so, praying he can just fall back asleep and forget about everything that had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours. But even sleep can’t save him from the memories of what you both once were: happy.
It’s not like he didn’t notice the rift growing between you two in the past few weeks. You didn’t have as much time for each other anymore, reducing your interactions to quick dinners and text messages. But you both have been together for nearly three years, and Minho had assumed that it was just the stress of senior year taking a toll on you both, nothing more. You both had been browsing apartments together just one month ago, finally planning to take the next big step in your relationship. He loves you more than anything in the world, and he so believed that you felt the same about him.
So when you sat him down yesterday at your favorite café, Morningstar Coffee House, and told him that you had doubts about your future together, he was shocked. Too fearful of what you were going to say next, Minho decided to take an abrupt exit out of the conversation, rushing out of the door by using class as an excuse. And now, he will be forced to confront a brutal reality, wishing he could have just gotten this over with yesterday.
A small chime alerts Minho to a new text message, and before he even reaches over to the coffee table to pick up his phone, he knows it’s you.
bobaluvrr: we need to finish talking
catservant98: do we really need to?
bobaluvrr: morningstar at 8. i have class, pls don’t be late.
With an exasperated groan, Minho stands up, tossing his phone onto the couch. At the very least, he could use the coffee.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little extreme?” Soyeon scrapes the bottom of the pint of ice cream in her hands, frowning when her spoon doesn’t recover as much as she’d like.
“Maybe,” Sunoo answers for you from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, lying on his stomach while scrolling through his cellphone. Soyeon chucks a pillow at him, making him yelp and lift his hands up in defeat.
“This is for the best, Soyeon,” you reply firmly, stabbing your spoon into your own pint of rocky road and digging out a generous chunk. As you lick the spoon, you note that you barely notice the creamy goodness that always succeeds in cheering you up. Not today.
Sunoo sits up and sets his phone aside. “Literally last month, you said you wanted to marry Minho as soon as you graduated.”
You swallow harshly, remembering the exact moment Sunoo is referencing. It’s true that you wanted to marry your boyfriend— no, you still want to marry him, even now. But you meant what you said; breaking up with Minho is necessary to prevent any more heartache. You’ve been feeling this indescribable longing seeping into your heart for weeks now, silently pressing through all of your warning bells. It was a whisper in the wind beneath your lofty wings, telling you that one day, Minho was going to leave you. The last few days had been the final straw, forcing you to grasp your courage and do what had to be done.
“I know.” You hold your tears back. “But the situation has obviously changed.”
Soyeon takes your hand in her own, softly rubbing your palm with her thumb to comfort you, while Sunoo just rolls his eyes. “I still blame that bitch Minju. It’s her fault you’re feeling like this, if anyone’s.”
At the mention of Minju, your expression hardens. After all, you don’t exactly have warm regards for a backstabber like her, especially when she had pretended to be your friend just to get close to Minho. When you found out about her ulterior motive, it made the betrayal hurt ten times worse.
You had befriended Minju nearing the end of the previous year, after she sat next to you at lunch when you were alone in the dining hall. All along your short-lived friendship, you had noticed that she would only ask you questions about Minho or your relationship with him, but you brushed it off as an attempt to just get along with your boyfriend. You had no idea that she wanted to do more than that.
At the beginning of the next semester, Minho mentioned that he had one class with Minju. Ever the optimist, you were pleasantly surprised, thinking that Minju could become friends with Minho as well. After all, it always took Minho forever to really bond with new people, and this would make everything easier. But the little things you kept overlooking built upon each other, forming a whole dam of distrust.
First, there were all of the times you hung out with both Minju and Minho. While Minho always engaged in conversation with the both of you, if not more with you, Minju would actively ignore you just to talk to Minho. Once, you three visited an arcade together, and there was a game that involved picking teams. Minju immediately declared that she would partner up with Minho, so you had no option but to team with a stranger. But maybe she just wanted to get to know him.
And then you ran into Heeseung, one of Minju’s old classmates. Heeseung had no malicious intentions; he used to have photography class with Minju before she switched out, and needed Minju’s number to ask her for the pen he had lent her. It looked like Minju had changed her course schedule to share a class with Minho. But maybe that was just a coincidence.
The final piece that made you put together Minju’s puzzle was when Minho was dropping you after a date one night. He had kissed you goodbye, and you went inside, wondering if you should invite Minju over to watch some movies. You called Minju and asked her if she wanted to come over, but she claimed that she was very sick and couldn’t even leave her house, down with a high fever in her bed. Feeling sorry for your friend, you decided to whip up a quick batch of soup for Minju and walk over to her loft. However, you saw two people standing right outside the building. Upon closer look, you realized it was Minju and Minho, talking about something you couldn’t hear. But the sight itself was enough— Minju looked perfectly healthy and fresh. You could give the benefit of doubt to your boyfriend, but Minju had obviously lied to you. You ran away before either of them spotted you.
You shake your head, knowing in your heart that even someone like Minju couldn’t really end one of the most important relationships in your life. “It’s not just her. I’m tired of watching every other couple on campus, wishing Minho and I were like that. Everyone calls us perfect, but really, we’re not. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who cares. I’m just tired of everything, Sunoo.”
And it’s true. You’ve had enough of wondering about whether you love him too much, if you were being naive about everything. You have always been a very bubbly, social person, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know that Minho is more of an introvert, and that it’s hard for him to express himself to others. However, you believed that with time, he would open up, at least to you. You found it as easy to confide your fears within Minho as it was to laugh when he tickled you. But communicating with Minho about his own feelings remained a difficulty. He still seems like such a mystery to you, and even if he wasn’t entertaining Minju’s whole plot, you feel like he isn’t as interested in you as you are in him. You hadn’t even bothered telling Minho the truth about Minju, because in the end, you doubt Minju would have troubled you so much if your relationship really was so unbreakable.
Sunoo’s face softens, as he gets up to envelope you in one of his hugs. “I’m sorry if I came off too strong. I just want the best for you.”
Soyeon joins your little huddle, wrapping her arms around the both of you. “You are our best friend, after all. We can’t have our favorite girl being sad.”
A tiny flicker of hope ignites in your stomach. Whatever happens, you know you’ll have Soyeon and Sunoo by your side. You tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need anyone else but them, until you start to believe it.
It hurts Minho’s heart to see that you look more beautiful than ever as you step into Morningstar, even with your downturned lips and the reddened sheen of your sleepless eyes. He busies himself with the menu as you approach the table he’s sitting at, as if he wasn’t just watching you a moment earlier.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Your words feel oddly formal, especially taking into account your usual greeting for Minho was an excited hug and an avalanche of kisses.
Minho shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant and not as scared as he really is. “Yeah, of course.”
You scoot your chair closer to the table, clearing your throat. “Did you sleep okay last night?”
Unable to help himself, Minho rolls his eyes. “How do you think I slept, Y/N?”
You immediately flush, realizing how obvious the answer must be. “I was just—”
“Checking on me,” Minho interrupts you, sounding more wounded than angry. “Right after you tell me that you think maybe we shouldn’t move-in together and that you aren’t feeling the same about us.”
You reach across the table to take Minho’s hands in yours. He can’t bring himself to wrench them free from your hold. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You did.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I just…” You trail off, gazing out the window. The campus is alive with the buzz of students waking up and going on about their days. It’s a gorgeous day for October, with bright sunshine and a cloudless sky— Minho hates it.
He looks away, not wanting to showcase how truly vulnerable he feels right now. “Why? Why this all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?”
You start. “No!”
“Are you still upset about yesterday? I know everything is stressful right now, but I promise—”
You take a deep breath. “I can no longer trust you. I don't know if I’ll always be the only one. But it’s not you, it’s me.”
“Of course you’re my only one, what are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, the desperation creeping in. “No. I promise I’ll try. I’ll be better. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this together.”
You slam your palms down on the table, making it shake. It shocks both you and Minho into a moment of charged silence. “We’ll only grow to hate each other at this rate. I need to end things with you now.”
“Y/N, please. I- I don’t want to break-up.”
You flash Minho a broken smile. “I don’t want it either. But I need to do this, for both our sakes.”
You stand up from your chair, and Minho finally breaks. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he fell into a ravine while hiking and broke his arm. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he was cut from the line-up for his dream internship in New York City. Minho, who never cries, sits in front of you now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his sweatshirt.
“Don’t go, please.” He makes one last attempt at getting you to stay, grabbing onto the arm of your jacket.
You gently shake him free, taking your purse. You’re crying now too. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Min.”
Minho lets his arm fall limply to his side as he hopelessly watches you leave as quickly as you came. He always hated saying goodbye after every time you went out, but the thought of being able to see you the next day helped a little bit. Now, there wasn’t even that.
“One… two… three.”
Minho grunts in effort, sweat slowly dripping down his neck at the arduous pace of each repetition.
“Keep going, Minho. You’re almost there,” Changbin says, leaning over Minho and supporting him on the bench press.
Minho barely hears him, flexing his biceps up and down, exhausted, yet determined to finish a set. He’s done nothing at all for the past few days, strangled with the inevitable grief of being broken up with. Minho sullenly welcomed trudging back and forth to classes. He went to bed early and slept in for as long as possible, and barely ate anything during the meals Chan forced him to have.
However, Chan finally became fed up with Minho’s mopiness, employing Changbin to drag him out to the gym and make him work out his feelings. And so, as he struggles under the backbreaking weight of the barbell, he yearns to feel a sense of accomplishment about something— anything.
“Ten! You’re done.” Changbin gently places a hand on Minho’s arm, willing him to stop, but Minho keeps going without toning down his pace.
Minho feels the excruciating ache burning in his muscles, the slow agony of pain rippling through him. Is this how you feel? Is this how much it hurts to love him? If so, he wants to live it over and over again, atoning for the reason you left him. He blames himself for letting you go, of course, but mostly for making you feel like you had to leave in the first place. He should have been a better man for you.
“Minho, stop!” Changbin lifts up the weight in his own hands, racking it and staring down accusingly at his charge. “Are you crazy? You could have hurt yourself.”
“You lift more than that, and you’re fine. Give me that.” Minho reaches for the barbell once more, but Changbin places it on an even higher hook, forcing Minho to get off the bench.
“I’ve been doing this for years. You started after your girlfriend dumped you, four days ago.”
Minho rolls his eyes, picking up his towel and dabbing at his dampened skin. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“You were already thinking about her anyway.” Changbin pats Minho’s shoulder, grabbing his bottle of green juice and walking over to the rowing machine to start his own workout.
Without further protest, Minho retreats to the locker rooms, wondering if he’s being that obvious. Minho gazes into the clouded mirror, inspecting himself for any signs of sadness, but all he receives is an eyeful of his general look, a guarded expression that reserves smiles only for those who deserve it. Weird. Maybe Changbin is just telepathic.
Minho shoves his belongings into his gym bag and heads out of the gym, back to nowhere else but Chan’s apartment, his temporary home until he finds a better place to stay. After all, he thought you both would be moving in together, but plans change.
As Minho makes his way down the sidewalk that leads to the university off-campus housing complex, someone throws a soccer ball into his path. Great.
“Hey, can you pass that over here?”
Clenching his jaw in annoyance, Minho kicks at the ball as hard as he can, not caring about where it lands. He ignores the person’s confused shouts and keeps walking until he reaches his destination, not acknowledging any of the strangers he passed by. What does it matter, anyway?
“Gym go well?” Chan looks up from the cutting board, setting down his knife and wiping his hands on a dishrag.
Minho sighs, neatly fixing his bag next to his current post, the sofa. “It was fine. I’ll go clean up and be right back.”
“Hurry! Dinner’s almost ready,” Chan calls as Minho heads inside the bathroom, locking the door and cranking on the shower.
Minho feels his body relax as he steps under the steady stream of water, but his mind remains tense. He’d gone to the gym with Changbin today because he thought he’d be able to get some peace of mind and forget about everything, but evidently, that hadn’t worked. All he can think about is you, you, you. He’ll deny it to his friends for as long as he can, but he isn’t sure how long he can keep lying to himself.
As he finishes, Minho steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the bedroom, drying off and quickly changing into his clothes. He walks into the dining area, where Chan has set up two bowls and is ladling pasta into each of them. When he was younger, Minho’s mother used to tell them that a good meal could ease a troubled heart. For her sake and Chan’s, he decides to eat well today, just for living.
Enveloped in a comfortable silence, Minho and Chan dig in, enjoying the spicy, cheesy penne that serves as an instant comfort food.
“Thanks, Chan,” Minho says, looking up from his bowl.
Chan swallows his bite and pauses, placing down his fork. “For what?”
Minho shrugs awkwardly, trying to find the right words. By now, he knows he’s no good at speaking his heart. “For being there for me. For feeding me. Everything, I guess.”
“And for making Changbin haul your ass to the gym.” Chan grins at Minho, nothing but warmth in his kind eyes. “What are friends for, brother?”
Even though he feels kind of crappy, Minho smiles. “Yeah, man.”
Chan reaches over and smacks Minho’s back, laughing the sentiment off. But deep inside, Minho knows that Chan understands him. Whatever happens, his brother will be by his side. He tells that to himself over and over again, through dinner and the TV show that Chan turns on, until he starts to believe it.
The next morning, Minho wakes up after finally getting a good night’s sleep. The much needed rest spurs him on to message you, something he’s been putting off for a while now.
catservant98: did you wake up?
catservant98: how are you doing?
catservant98: ??
You don’t reply to any of his texts. Minho knows that you’re not much of a morning person, but you would never miss class, so you have to be up. Every Thursday and Friday, both of you have Writing Seminar together, a course that is mandatory for every senior student at the university you both attend. When he first received his schedule, he had been elated that he shared a class with his girlfriend. Well now you are his ex-girlfriend, and he doesn’t know that being in the same room and unable to speak with you is a great option.
Nevertheless, Minho tucks his phone into his pocket, opening the door to the lecture hall. The moment he enters, his eyes find yours. You’re sitting in your favorite spot in the middle of the fifth row, but the seat next to you that Minho usually takes is already occupied by some other girl who’s busy reading a book. You didn’t bother saving him a seat, for the very first time.
You tear your eyes away from Minho’s piercing gaze, looking at the grassy lawn beyond the window behind you, leaving Minho to find a new seat. He sets his backpack down in the very back row, where no one else is, and sits alone, a sad new reality setting in. Thankfully, the professor enters and starts talking about some upcoming project, leaving Minho ample leeway to observe you.
Your head is tilted down and you're focused on the open notebook in front of you. Although he can’t see your hand properly, he knows it’s moving as you sketch a little doodle onto the paper. It’s a habit that he always found enormously endearing, and as you tuck your hair behind your ear, Minho feels another pang in his chest. He will never be able to brush back your hair for you, ever again.
The moment class is over, Minho quits pretending he’s actually paying attention and hurries over to you before you can leave. You’re midway through stuffing your books bag in your bag when you notice Minho hovering over you. With a resigned sigh, you look up at him expectantly.
“I- I just wanted to check on you,” Minho says quietly, looking down at his hands like he’s a kid again, guilty of stealing a candy instead of impinging on your time. “And see how you’re doing.”
“I’ve been better.” You look away and stand up, gesturing towards the door. “I should go. Soyeon’s probably waiting.”
“Okay then.” Minho steps aside, letting you pass. You both had a lot of mutual friends; surely every interaction between you both will not be this awkward, right?
Before you leave, however, you turn and look at him. “Let’s try to be civil and move on, okay? We’ll still be seeing each other a lot, so.”
Minho just stares at you, for a moment, before remembering himself. “Yeah, okay. Let’s try.”
You curtly nod and walk out the door. Minho isn’t so sure that moving on is what he wants. Of course he wants to get along with you, because having you in his life and not being romantically involved is better than not being involved with you at all. But he wishes the world— time, you, and even himself— would understand that moving on meant this loss in his life. Shaking his head, Minho heads out of the classroom and towards a hopefully better day.
“Are you sure this isn’t a bad idea?” You worriedly scan the increasing mass of partygoers. Usually, you love a good party; spending time with friends and making new ones is one of your favorite things to do. Tonight, however, you can’t help the bad feeling building inside of you.
Sunoo loops your arm through yours, leading the way for you through the swanky flat, searching for a place to sit. “No, it isn’t. You deserve to have some fun.”
“What if I see Minho?” You ask him, but you already know the answer. Of course Minho is coming to Jihyo’s birthday party; unfortunately, both of you were in the same large friend group, an aspect of your relationship that you used to cherish. Now, not so much.
He looks over at you, a challenge in his eyes. “And so what if you do? You told him you wanted to be civil. So be civil.”
“Right.”
You both find a place by the food tables, where boxes of pizza have already been opened to entice guests and bottles of beer chill in the cooler. After congratulating Jihyo and helping yourself to a few slices, you sit down on the couch next to Sunoo, trying to enjoy your dinner. After boba, pizza is your most favorite food on the whole planet, but even that can’t seem to soothe your nerves. You wish Soyeon were here too, but she’s stuck studying for an exam.
Noticing your restlessness, Sunoo whistles to a few people mingling nearby. “Hey, who wants to play Truth or Dare!”
Although outdated, Truth or Dare is a certified party hit for stressed college students like you all, especially if there’s alcohol involved. You’re just thankful for the distraction. Everyone quickly huddles around, buzzing in anticipation of either a comedy show or secrets being revealed.
“I’ll go first.” Chan says, stepping forward. If he’s here, so must be Minho. “Truth.”
Sunoo rubs his hands together in thought before piping up. “What’s your beef with your Student Council co-president?”
Chan immediately tenses, his cheeks turning red. “Shit. I’ll drink on that.”
Everyone whoops with laughter and cheers as Chan downs his beer, setting the cup down with a sour expression on his face due to the bitterness of the drink. He must really hate his co-president. The game continues, before you’re the only person playing who hasn’t gone yet. Unfortunately, your questioner is Mark Lee, a junior that’s notorious for his nosiness. You brace yourself for whatever invasive question he’ll come up with, but you aren’t as quite prepared as you think.
“Why did you and Y/N break up?”
“Huh?” You follow Mark’s gaze to see him looking at Minho, who joined the game without you realizing. The question was meant for him, not you.
Minho says nothing, giving Mark the opportunity to keep talking. “I mean, weren’t you guys the golden couple of campus or something?”
Everyone quiets down, zeroing in on you and Minho for all of the wrong reasons. Minho’s eyes dart over to where you sit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You feel your skin prickle and your body heat up, the stress clouding your senses once more.
“This is stupid. Game’s over,” Minho declares while getting up, and everyone disperses, not willing to argue with him.
You stare down at your lap as Sunoo places an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea Mark would ask that. What an asshole.”
“I’m fine.” You stand up, brushing off your skirt. “I’m going to go get a drink.”
“I’ll come with you,” Sunoo offers.
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll come back.”
After getting some water, you wind through the impromptu dance floor that has now taken over the living space, everyone jamming to the raging music that thumps through the loud bass speakers that Jihyo had installed into her flat. You dodge a couple grinding up against each other and a pair of best friends swinging to the beat. Before you head back to Sunoo, you’re about to find temporary reprieve out on the balcony, but like a cruel universal joke, you see exactly what you fear most.
Minho leans against the railing, the evening breeze ruffling the chestnut hair that frames his handsome face. And next to him stands Minju, twirling her hair around her fingers while listening to what Minho is murmuring to her. Yours and Minju’s eyes meet, and she gives you the faintest hint of a satisfied smirk. Your heart drops and your feet want to give out right then and there, but you would rather die than fall apart in front of both of them. You turn on your heel and blindly march to wherever will rid you of the sight of the person you love the most speaking to the person you hate the most.
That destination turns out to be the kitchen, as you march in and huff out loud as your body hits the kitchen island. There’s no one else there except for one other person with his upper body hidden by the refrigerator, obviously raiding it. At the sound of someone else entering, he shuts the fridge door and looks over at you. Taking in his faded pink hair and beat-up converse sneakers, you vaguely recognize him from somewhere.
“I was just looking for some carrot juice, that’s all.” The guy shoots you a sheepish smile. “I don’t do booze past 9 p.m.”
“Carrot juice? Don’t tell me you’re a fitness freak.”
He raises his hands in faux surrender. “Guilty. But outside of the gym, I’m Kang Taehyun. Or Terry, if we’re acquainted, and hopefully you and I will be by the end of the night. So call me Terry.”
You’re intrigued by this carrot-loving stranger. “I’m—”
“Y/N, I know. We have Writing Seminar together.” Terry smiles as the recognition hits you.
You slap your palm against your forehead, wondering how you could have missed him. “I’m so sorry. I guess I was always too distracted in that class.”
He waves your apology off with a twist of his wrist. “No worries. Besides, you’re a lot more memorable than me.”
You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”
In the brief silence that follows, you gaze up at the pattern of the tiling on the countertops, toying with the hem of your skirt. Once again, your thoughts flit over to Minho, wondering if he’s still talking to Minju. Terry notices you spacing out and speaks up. “Hey, are you okay?”
You look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, everything feels like too much, and you’re overwhelmed with your own emotions. You feel yourself tear up, and you’re immediately mortified for breaking down in front of someone you just met.
Unfazed, Terry crosses over to you in three quick strides and gently touches your arm, concerned. “Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
You swipe at your eyes, trying to collect yourself. “No, it’s not you. I broke up with my boyfriend recently. And it’s been… bad. God, this is embarrassing.”
Terry dips his head in understanding. “I noticed you weren’t sitting next to him as usual in class earlier today. Minho— that's him, right?”
You let out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Well…” Terry trails off, and you fear you’ve ruined the mood with your depressive recollection, but he smiles at you. “I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me. I have a fear of mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
A giggle escapes your mouth at the absurdity of his confession. “What?”
Terry nods solemnly. “Yes. Technically, I have a fear of visiting the dentist, but mint choco is close enough to the taste of toothpaste to give me the chills.”
You grin at Terry, the down atmosphere slowly fading away. “What do you like, then?”
“Water slides. Pleasure reading. And caramel popcorn with extra caramel.” Terry flexes his bicep. “Even a fitness freak needs his sugar fix.”
You roll your eyes in good humor. “You’re really something, aren’t you, Kang Taehyun?”
“I’m hoping that’s a compliment.” Terry runs his hand through his bubblegum hair, carelessly mussing it up. You find the messiness of his bangs absolutely adorable.
“It is.” You tap your nails against your cup, trying to think of something to say next. Generally, you have no difficulty in keeping a conversation going, but Terry seems to be content with that role in this one.
“Are you an Apple or Android kind of person?” Terry inquires.
You take a sip of your water, raising your eyebrow at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I was trying to think of a good way to ask you for your number.” Terry shrugs, that playful smile that you’ve now become familiar with coming back.
You return it. “You just did.”
Both of you exchange cell phones and type in each other’s contact information. When finished, Terry slides your phone back into your palm, and you don’t miss the light touch of his fingers against your own.
“I have to go find my friend now, Terry. But I’m glad I met you. Don’t forget to spam me with more weird facts about yourself.”
Terry laughs. “I won’t. Like I said, Y/N, you’re not easily forgettable.”
You hide your smile and leave the kitchen, lost in your own world, even as you run straight into Sunoo, who asks you what took you so long. When you finally get back to the warmth of your own room after the party, you sit down to get some homework done before bed. You notice your favorite keychain, a little cat charm, hanging off your ID card lanyard that’s strewn across your desk. Minho gifted it to you last year, stating that you needed something to remind you of him when he wasn’t there. After a moment’s hesitation, you unclip the charm from the lanyard and tuck it away inside your desk. You don’t need the reminder right now.
terrypotter: hey, good morning!! this is terry from yday btw
bobaluvrr: hii!
bobaluvrr: omg ur user <3 i love harry potter too!
terrypotter: this friendship was meant to be.
You throw off your covers, hopping out of bed. Last night was proof that things could start out horrible and end well. You meant what you said to Terry; you’re happy you were able to meet someone like him. Even though you both only hung out for a few minutes, talking to him felt relaxing and uncomplicated, less of a puzzle and more like a game, unlike how it felt with Minho. You were tired of always guessing Minho’s thoughts, and so Terry’s habit of speaking his mind feels incredibly refreshing.
terrypotter: here’s a thought- coffee @ morningstar?
terrypotter: they make a mean breakfast bagel too, if ur up for it
You frown down at your phone, the lighthearted feeling fading into uncertainty. You are glad that Terry named this new acquaintance as a friendship, but still, he’s a boy— and a good looking one at that, too. You aren’t sure if getting coffee entails something potentially romantic down the lane, and if it does, it feels wrong, especially so soon after Minho. You definitely haven’t moved on, yet. After all, you once believed that Minho would be the man you would marry one day, and a tiny part of you still dreams of what could be.
bobaluvrr: i can’t :( promised my roommates breakfast
terrypotter: aw that’s too bad
After a moment of thought, however, you text him again.
bobaluvrr: but i’ll save you a seat in class today!
terrypotter: see u then :)
Strangely buzzed, you make your bed and get ready for the day, trying not to think of the fact that Minho is also in Writing Seminar with you and Terry. You don’t want him to give him the wrong idea, but then again, you both weren’t together anymore, so what does it matter?
After showering and getting dressed, you stand in the kitchen so that the excuse you gave Terry won’t be a lie, scrambling a few eggs in the frying pan that Minho bought you last year. As the designated chef in your relationship, Minho used to cook for you all the time, whenever you came over to the apartment he shared with Chan and Jisung. Whenever he visited you, however, he complained that there weren’t enough proper cooking supplies for him to create a “proper culinary experience” for you, so he insisted on buying you some.
When you nearly fainted, looking at the receipts for everything he bought you, he promised that you could make it up to him by bringing everything with you when you moved in with him. That’s how he very smoothly asked you to move in with him, and you accepted by attacking him with kisses. You both planned to find an apartment as soon as possible, since Jisung wanted to move-in with his best friend, and Chan was looking for his own place. The reminiscing smile on your face fades away when you remember that everyone’s plans came to fruition except for yours and Minho’s.
You don’t know if it’s the universe looping Minho into your life again and again, or if your treacherous heart just misses him so much that you can’t help but subconsciously cling to every last remnant you have of him. The sensible side of you knows it’s the latter scenario.
“I smell food.” Sunoo ambles out of his room, looking like a lovable yet scruffy teddy bear.
He tries to sneak a piece of fried egg from the pan, but you quickly push his hands away, wrinkling your nose. “Go brush your teeth first. I’m going to throw up.”
Sunoo rolls his eyes sleepily, but obeys, before Soyeon also comes out of her bedroom. Unlike Sunoo, however, she’s all dressed and ready for business, clad in her uniform of baggy jeans and a badass leather jacket that you adore. Soyeon pulls out three glasses and starts juicing a couple oranges to complete your meal, as you start plating the food.
“Thank you, my angel,” Soyeon blows you a kiss as you set the eggs and some slices of buttered toast on the table. You wink back at her as you both take your seats and Sunoo comes out to join you, still wearing his pajamas.
“And you, lazy ass? Wake up earlier so you can help out more. You never do anything.” Soyeon smacks Sunoo’s arm, hard, eliciting a cry out of him.
“Hey! I take on the emotional support role in this house,” Sunoo replies, aggressively biting into his toast.
“This is an apartment.”
Your two roommates trade their usual insults back and forth as you tune them out, picking at your own plate. Maybe it had been a bad idea, asking Terry to sit next to you. And it wasn’t even about how you could already envision your ex-boyfriend’s beautiful eyes full of betrayal, but more of how you’re coming off to Terry. What if he got the wrong idea, that you both were heading into something more than a friendship?
When you’ve escaped Sunoo and Soyeon’s bickering, you plug in your earbuds and walk to the lecture hall. The sound of your morning mix fills your ears as you enter your own world. While you cherish the people in your life more than anything, you treasure the times when you can slow down and just appreciate the fact that you’re alive and healthy. Gratitude isn’t something you feel a lot, especially taking into account recent happenings, but maybe you’ll start now. A new friend is always something to be thankful for—
You hear someone calling out and immediately pull out your headphones to see Terry next to you.
“Hey, Y/N!” Terry falls into a synchronized step with you. “Did I interrupt any deep contemplation? The look on your face was pretty intense.”
You shake your head, accepting the coffee that Terry hands to you. “Thank you. And no, you didn’t. It’s nice to see you again, Terry.”
Terry smiles, sipping from his own cup. “Likewise. Ready for class?”
You’re about to naturally give him an affirmative answer, before you halt, remembering yet another moment with Minho.
“Who the hell is he?” Minho glowers threateningly at the guy next to you, pulling the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. The man quickly rushes out of the bar and into the rain, without even bothering to open the umbrella in his hands.
You sigh loudly while Minho sits down on the stool the man was just perched on. “Was that necessary, Min? Poor guy just wanted to ask me about the book I’m reading.”
“That’s the pretense that all guys put up when they’re trying to hit on a girl.” Minho slides his arm around your shoulders, and despite your mild annoyance, you melt into his touch. He smells like a mix of cologne, rain, and fresh cotton sheets.
You look up at Minho through your eyelashes. “Is that what you did when you asked me out?”
Minho smiles lovingly at you. “I didn’t have to. You were down bad for me already.”
You shove him away in mock offense. “You were the down bad one! I remember your whole cheesy speech.”
“I don’t recall anything like that.” The smirk on Minho’s face fades in favor of a deep blush.
Laughing, you press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, and he quickly reciprocates. The truth is, you both were impossibly down bad for each other. And to be even more honest, you enjoyed it when Minho got like this; the feeling of being Lee Minho’s girl will never not excite you, especially when he was the one keen on enforcing it.
You sigh to yourself. While that was a pleasant memory without the context, you aren’t so sure it’ll be cute this time, when Minho reacts to you and Terry.
Terry holds the door open to the lecture hall, letting you go in first before shutting the door behind him. Most of the class is already assembled there, setting up their desks before the professor starts. You see that Minho’s also sitting, perched in the back again, but he seems busy rifling through his bag, looking for something. As you take your own seat, you don’t know if you feel relief at Minho not saying anything, or disappointment that he didn’t notice you at all.
Throughout the duration of class, you and Terry giggle together over the professor’s infamous random rants, but your mind keeps flitting over to Minho. You can feel his gaze on you and Terry, but when you turn, you see him immersed in his notes like he wasn’t looking at you in the first place, and you end up feeling stupid. Fearful of what Minho— or really, you— might do, as soon as class ends, you grab Terry’s wrist and practically pull him out of the door, ready to get out of there. Terry doesn’t question it, understanding the rationale for your actions. You appreciate that about him.
To make it up to Terry, you take him out to lunch, choosing a restaurant downtown. You love the views of the riverfront there, as well as their renowned spicy food. You block out the memory of all of the times you and Minho walked over here, hand in hand. You are entitled to lunch at your favorite restaurant, you remind yourself. Once you’re seated, the waiter comes over to your table.
“Chef’s special soup, please. Level-three spice,” you tell the waiter.
The waiter writes down your orders and walks away, leaving Terry to look at you with an amused expression. “Level-three? The food here is already spicy.”
You cross your arms. “I have a very high spice tolerance.”
“Alright.”
In no time at all, your waiter is back, setting down the food in front of you both. Terry immediately digs in, shoveling liberal spoonfuls of his mild fried rice into his mouth, leaving you to stare at your soup. You can practically smell the red pepper in the steam rising out of the bowl.
“Here’s my last warning before destruction,” Terry says, squeezing a lemon onto his rice. “Try some rice.”
You sit up, trying to look self-assured. “Nonsense. I can do this.”
Of course, you wish you hadn’t bragged so much, barely a few seconds after your first sip of the spicy broth. Your eyes start to tear up involuntarily, and Terry fills a glass of water from the iced pitcher and hands it over to you. You accept it, clumsily tipping the cool water into your mouth, as Terry gives you a knowing smile.
“Aren’t you overdoing it?”
The spoon in your hands nearly falls onto the floor in your shock at Terry’s words. “What did you just say?”
Terry gives you an odd look. “Um, I said, ‘aren’t you overdoing it?’”
You take a deep breath, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. But you know that they’re not completely due to the soup. “Wow.”
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Terry hands you a napkin, worry written on his face. He signals for the waiter to refill the water pitcher.
You smile ruefully. “Yeah, I will be.”
“I can handle it, Minho.” You give him a glare, placing the napkin on your lap and scooting closer to the table. It’s your first date with Minho, and you want to impress him so bad.
Minho nudges your leg with his own, and you try not to look flustered. “It’s okay if you want to order something else.”
You stubbornly dig your spoon into the bowl, gathering a large helping of broth and noodles onto it. “You like the soup here. So I want to eat it too.”
He just laughs, watching intently as the clear signs of regret manifest on your face. “Told you so.”
"What are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes, unwilling to admit defeat, even though you really, really want to. You drink the soup in careful spoonfuls, pretending it’s too hot, but you struggle to speak even in between tiny sips. “This… is.. so… delicious.”
Minho is now hysterical, losing his mind laughing at the look on your face when you bite straight into a whole jalapeno. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”
“Minho, you’re so mean!” You can’t bear it any longer, the tears gushing down your cheeks while you also laugh in both pain and genuine happiness at being here with Minho, at making him laugh.
“Alright, alright.” Minho quickly goes and gets a large glass of chilled apple juice from the bar, handing it to you.
When you’re finally calmed down, you wipe your mouth with your napkin and set the spoon down, metaphorically waving a white flag. You skip straight to dessert, opting to soothe your taste buds with cold ice cream, all while watching Minho in awe as he easily finishes his own bowl of soup. After paying for dinner, Minho takes you to a secluded section of the rocky beach bordering the river that runs straight through the city. You both walk in a comfortable silence, still at that point where your hands slightly touch as you walk, unsure of just holding each other like you so want them to.
You look over at Minho, suddenly self-conscious. At this point, you see no point in faking anything; he’s seen you literally sob over a bowl of soup. “About the soup… I promise I’m not a braggy show-off. Honestly, I just wanted to impress you. Guess I did the opposite, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, all laughter from before gone. “I’ve never met someone who ate a bowl of soup here just because I like it. Not even Chan would try it, and he’s my best friend.”
You blush, illuminated by the combination of the moonlight and the glittering city surrounding. “Thank you.”
Minho stops walking, turning around to face you. “I know I told you this when I asked you to go out with me, but I suck at using my words, so I’m sorry.”
You copy his movement so you’re looking him directly in the eye. “I understand you, words or not.”
Minho looks down at the rocky ground, secretly fighting his own insecurities. “I’m trying, but I… I admit I’m not great at this.”
You try not to show how utterly charmed you are by his bashfulness. “To be honest, neither am I. You’re actually the first person I’ve ever gone out with. Nobody’s really been into me before.”
“Seriously?” Minho looks shocked.
You now wonder if divulging that information in him was wise. Definitely not. “Yeah.”
Minho kicks a pebble into the river, watching it sink into the water. “Idiots.”
You blink. “Sorry?”
He scoffs, looking back at you. “I don’t know what kind of idiots you were hanging around before. How could no one be into you?”
You shrug, embarrassed. Your heart feels heavy, thinking of the things people used to say to you, thinking they were being funny but not realizing how much mere words were hurting you. “I’m kind of undateable, I guess. People tend to gravitate towards Soyeon. They say I’m more of the comedic relief. I don’t blame them, though. She’s perfect.”
Minho gives you an unreadable expression. “You have no idea.”
“Of what?”
He crosses that miniscule space between you both, answering you in a different way than you expect. His lips are full and sweet, and he tastes like your coffee ice cream that he stole a few bites from. The surprise you harbor quickly melts away when you shut your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he circles his around your waist. If it took this long to find the right person, then so be it. And you don’t know if you can say that this— your first kiss ever— is like the movies; it feels even better.
“I may not be good with words, but I can say this: you are perfect.”
“You look kind of stupid,” Hyunjin says, cackling at Minho’s struggle to look over the top of the box in his hands while coordinating his movements.
Minho gives Hyunjin a sharp look in response. “And you look ready to go into the air fryer.”
Hyunjin immediately tosses his phone aside and scurries over to where Minho is, taking the box out of his hands and transporting it into Minho’s designated bedroom with ease, looking over his shoulder fearfully as he goes. Minho smiles to himself, satisfied.
He follows Hyunjin into the room, finding the latter boy dramatically smoothing out the bedsheets and straightening the pillows. Hyunjin side-eyes Minho’s entrance, earning him a smack on the backside and a great reason to get out of the room, leaving Minho in peace.
Minho quickly unpacks, neatly folding his clothes and stacking them in the closet, before organizing the rest of his belongings around the room. When he finishes, he falls back onto his new bed, staring up at the ceiling fan and observing it whir. Out of everything that’s happened, he knows he should be thankful; although Hyunjin is the designated comedian of their friend group— along with Jisung, of course— he values his privacy incredibly. So when Hyunjin offered to rent out a room in his apartment to Minho, he couldn’t believe his luck. Then again, he wishes he wasn’t in this position to begin with.
Earlier today, Chan insisted on going out to catch the football game that their university hosted. Minho had agreed, with nothing better to do— besides, he noticed that Chan was also having a rough start to his day, after being locked in the campus library all night with his co-president that he always conflicted with. Chan had stayed quiet for the entire time, staring out the window on the ride to the home game, but at least he had a happy ending. By the end of the game, things had changed for Chan, and for the better: he’d amended things with his co-president, and of everything that could have happened, they even emerged from the stadium as a couple. For Minho, however, things had been quite different.
Namely, there’s a new replacement for Minho. He saw you walk into class with Kang Taehyun yesterday, and he’d been so anxious to not let you see his reaction that he immediately busied himself with his backpack. The entire time, however, he was watching you both whisper to each other during class. He darkly observed Taehyun scribble something onto the corner of your notebook, and it had made you laugh. That was what Minho used to do all the time. By the end of class, Minho considered confronting you right then and there, without caring about anyone else, but you ran out of class with Taehyun before he could even move.
And to make things even worse, he saw you and Taehyun together at the game. Minho had to resist the urge to march down to your section and slap the flirtatious smile off of Taehyun’s face. But more than anything, he wanted to ask you if it was true. Did you really already start to move on with a new man? Is Minho really that replaceable to you?
“Hey, what are you up to?” Hyunjin cautiously sticks his head into the room, snapping Minho out of his reverie.
“Nothing much. What’s up?”
Hyunjin steps into the room, his silky shirt and pressed trousers a stark contrast to Minho’s soft blue t-shirt and gym shorts. “Wanna go to the convenience store with me? I ran out of snacks.”
“You and your snacks,” Minho teases, chasing after Hyunjin when he sticks his tongue in retaliation.
A few minutes later, Hyunjin successfully drags Minho into the convenience store, disappearing into the junk food aisles to get his fix and leaving Minho to wander around the store. Following the twisting row of frozen foodstuffs, Minho turns and crashes straight into you.
“Minho?” Your eyes widen.
Minho clears your throat, trying not to gaze at you like you’re a returned long-lost love. You are indeed lost to him, but he had class with you merely the day before. He needs to get a grip on himself. “You dropped this.”
He kneels down, picking up the tub of ice cream, and hands it to you after inspecting the flavor label. “Strawberry? You hate strawberry.”
You take it back hastily. “Yeah. You always loved it, though.”
That doesn’t satisfy Minho’s rampant irritation. “You wouldn’t even touch strawberry ice cream with a ten-foot pole before. What changed?”
“I just wanted to try something new,” you say, with what Minho observes as guilt.
Before Minho can respond, the person he wants to see the least rounds the corner and interrupts you both.
“I promise, the strawberry ice cream here is amazing and— oh.” Taehyun walks up to where you are, standing slightly between you and Minho, before he looks down at you, ignoring Minho. “Am I interrupting something? I can go away.”
You shake your head, flaring the rage in Minho. “It’s fine. You can stay.”
“So you’ll eat strawberry ice cream with him, but not me.” Minho rolls his eyes, the humiliation inside him swelling like a balloon.
“Hey man, it’s nothing like that. I know she doesn’t like strawberry ice cream that much, but I practically threatened her to try it. J'adore strawberries,” Taehyun says in a joking tone, but Minho doesn’t miss the protective glint in his eye.
Minho has never been a violent person, but he balls his fists. The nerve. “Who the fuck even are you? You don’t know anything about—”
“What is your problem, Minho?” You cut in angrily. “If you’re mad at me, then be mad at me. Don’t take your frustrations out on Terry.”
What you said is perfectly sensible, Minho knows that. He doesn’t have anything against Taehyun at all; he doesn’t even know the guy. But all logic is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.
“Terry?” Minho scoffs at the nickname. “You know what, I am mad at you. Because seriously? Kang Taehyun? He isn’t even your type.”
Before Taehyun can say anything else, you respond to Minho’s jab, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Right, because you were so perfect for me.”
The words hit him like a sledgehammer, and Minho starts in surprise— you’ve never talked to him like that before, ever. And neither has he. The regret is evident on your face as you shake your head, frustrated, like that came out wrong.
“I got the snacks!” Hyunjin announces suddenly, waltzing into the aisle, before he notices you standing there with Taehyun. “What’s going on here?”
You and Taehyun stay quiet, adding onto Minho’s misery. He wants you to say something, anything. He doesn’t even want an apology; he knows he absolutely deserved that insult. Still, Minho can’t help that horrible feeling rising inside of him.
“Let’s just go.” Minho turns on his heel and walks out of the store, before waiting to finish the conversation, Hyunjin following closely behind. He doesn’t bother looking back.
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to Minho, falling silent in the rapidly approaching night. At times like this, Minho prefers to be left alone. But he isn’t, really. Not with the truth leaning over his shoulder, like an angelic superego. He tries not to think of it, however, or the fact that his heart is falling apart so violently in his chest. Although you and Minho are not together anymore, you’ve both now fulfilled a milestone: hurt each other beyond repair.
The convenience store encounter with Minho left you feeling guiltier than ever, even more than when you actually broke up with him. You should have been more understanding towards Minho; after suddenly ending things, you appear out with Terry. Even though you don’t see Terry like that, you are well aware of how it can look to Minho. After all, you’d react similarly if you found out that Minho and Minju are dating. But you hadn’t, because you know that Minho would never do that to you.
You sigh, shutting the door to your room and collapsing onto your bed. After the whole incident, the air between you and Terry had been pretty awkward. While you still don’t know much about Terry, including his intentions, the topic of a romance had never been broached until Minho did it for you. He’d walked you back to your apartment, before wishing you a goodnight.
Your phone sounds with a text, and you pick it up, curling into your pillow. It’s Terry.
terrypotter: just checking up on you
terrypotter: how are you doing?
bobaluvrr: better, thanks for asking
terrypotter: glad to hear
terrypotter: and i also want to say that i’m sorry for any role i might have played in what happened today
bobaluvrr: you’re good, terry. it wasn’t about you. i’m sorry for bringing you in
There is truth to this. No matter how much it feels like third parties have an avenue in furthering the split between you and Minho, the problem has always been internal. It’s truly between you both, hence, you’re not a couple anymore.
bobaluvrr: let’s change the subject?
terrypotter: ofc
terrypotter: wanna play would you rather?
You laugh in spite of yourself. It feels good to laugh, to distract yourself, but Minho stays like a stubborn mirage in your mind. Nevertheless—
bobaluvrr: game on.
terrypotter: beaches or mountains?
bobaluvrr: beaches
terrypotter: sweet or salty?
bobaluvrr: are u kidding? my username? boba??
terrypotter: LOL sweet then
bobaluvrr: yes.
terrypotter: spring or autumn?
bobaluvrr: spring, duh
terrypotter: and lastly, dogs or cats?
bobaluvrr: DOGS
terrypotter: u are 100% correct
terrypotter: all of our answers are the exact same LMFAO
You think back to your first date with Minho. Before the whole soup fiasco, the atmosphere had been so awkward while waiting for the soup to arrive. This was months of tension and pining between you both, and now that the apex had arrived, neither of you were sure of what to say. Without thinking, Minho broke the silence by randomly asking you if you liked dogs or cats better. You were automatically enchanted by the bashful look on his face. From there on, for every single question he asked you, both of you had the exact opposite answers. For the longest time, your differences had felt charming, before they weren’t.
Terry, on the other hand, shares so many similarities with you, beyond the strawberry ice cream betrayal. Both of you are outgoing, have a similar sense of humor, and like to be unabashedly yourselves. If a romance did ever blossom between you and Terry, if your friendship lasts your current heartbreak, you could be happy with him, maybe. You would never be insecure, worrying about what’s going on in his mind, because he would talk to you directly. You appreciate that so much about him. But whenever you look into his eyes, or whenever your hand accidentally brushes his, you don’t feel that electricity that had always coursed through you when you were with Minho. You’ve been searching for it everywhere since, but that spark just isn’t there; Taehyun’s just not Minho. Your heart calls out to Minho, no matter how much you wish it wouldn’t, and you can’t deny it any longer.
If there’s one thing that Minho has learned in the duration of his college years, it’s that work has no tolerance for those special ailments of the heart. His professors don’t give a crap about the fact that his girlfriend dumped him, or that his girlfriend has now apparently moved on with some pink-haired stud. No matter how much he wants to slam his laptop screen down and fall asleep to the rhythm of his shattered heart, he knows he can’t. His term paper will not write itself, and it matters, especially since he’ll be graduating this year.
“What will you do when we graduate?” You set down your iPad, flexing your fingers.
“A job at a good company. And then one day, my own business.” That familiar, dreamy look mists Minho’s eyes.
You smile at him. “My handsome CEO.”
Minho tapped your nose with his finger, following it with a soft kiss there. “You are so cute.”
“I know.” You peek down at his notebook that’s full of graphs and lengthy strings of numbers. “This looks complicated.”
“Welcome to the life of a business and economics double major,” Minho laughs. “But you’re literally a pre-med student. I’m not going to complain when you have to memorize human anatomy and random proteins.”
“Don’t remind me.” You dramatically shudder, giggling at Minho. “But I don’t care, as long as one day, you’re CEO Lee, and I’m Dr. Lee.”
Your words shock both you and Minho, invoking a moment of charged silence. You both have never talked about getting married before. But before you can backtrack, a slow smile spreads across Minho’s face. “Dr. Lee… has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
You turn a bright red, but lean into Minho, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “Definitely.”
Minho clears his throat and shakes yet another memory of you away, trying to concentrate on the email open in front of him. Just minutes ago, he’d received notice that he’d been chosen for a position at Google, following graduation. Fucking Google. Every business major would kill for a job at Google. And not only that, but his employer noted in the message that they usually don’t even extend offers this early in the year, but made an exception for him because they wanted him so much.
For a moment, he forgot all about the angst of the previous day, giddily jumping off his bed in a rare display of emotion, even if nobody else was around. And then he reached for his phone, opening up your contact and preparing to type in a text to you; for months, you knew Minho was anxious about his application to Google. But then he remembers himself; he’s now someone in your past.
Minho swallows roughly, staring at the blank space where his response accepting the offer should be. A moment later, he decides he’ll respond to the email later. But he doesn’t even have any time to chide himself before he notices someone standing in front of him.
“Minju?”
She looks down at him, either oblivious to his confusion or choosing to ignore it. “Hey. Am I interrupting something?”
Minho nods, waiting for Minju to sit down and get settled into her chair, trying not to let his bewilderment show.
At Jihyo’s party, he had needed some air after that stupid game of Truth or Dare, and even worse, your reaction to the question asked of him. Minho had escaped to the balcony, hoping for a moment alone, when Minju approached him. When she launched into a conversation with him about school, Minho realized that you probably never told Minju about the break-up. So he excused himself as politely as he could, explaining that you and him both broke up. He never really considered Minju as his own friend, and did not expect Minju to pursue a relationship with him any further.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Minho.” Minju exhales, looking him directly in the eye. “I like you.”
Minho sits up immediately, shocked. “What did you just say?”
Minju purses her lips. “I like you, and I always have. Go out with me.”
Minho shakes his head in disbelief, the confusion fading into anger. “You’re Y/N’s friend. How could you do this to her? How can you even look at yourself?”
“You’re not together anymore, it doesn’t matter,” Minju says, her voice wavering.
He scoffs, packing up his belongings and shoving them carelessly into his bag. “Don’t talk to me again.”
Minju grabs the sleeve of Minho’s jacket as he turns to leave, desperation in her eyes. “Be with me instead. I’ll make you forget her.”
Minho shakes her free, giving her a look of both pity and disgust. “I still love her, and I always will.”
And with that, Minho leaves without looking back, walking slowly and deliberately in thought. Was this what you meant when you told him that you weren’t sure if you were the only one? Was Minju the reason for the love of his life leaving him? A strange mix of both fury and hope washes over Minho as he exits the library and breaks into a run, barely eight out of his eight-thousand word essay written.
After you broke up with Minho, you forgot one very crucial detail: you didn’t unlink him from your Google calendar. One of the few things you both share in common is your organization, and when you were together, you both loved to plan things together and very ceremoniously add them to your shared online calendar. It became a game, trying to guess where the other was at random times, judging by their schedule. More often than not, the calendar proved to be a very useful tool in pinpointing each other’s locations. It’s why the brief surprise of seeing Minho standing outside your apartment door in the middle of the day on a weekday fades away quickly. You don’t have any classes scheduled today.
“Y/N,” he pants, leaning against the doorframe.
“Minho. What are you doing here?” You cross your arms, resisting the urge to rush forward and hug him in all of his puffer coat glory. You used to make fun of him for that coat, all the time.
“I needed to see you. Minju told me,” Minho lowers his eyes, as if he’s nervous. “I need you to know that there was nothing going on with her. You have always been my only one. I promise. No one else. I miss you.”
Your heart wrenches in desire and nostalgia at the sincerity of his eyes. Of course you knew that he never cheated on you; this is Minho. But that’s not the reason why you have to remind yourself, once more, that you aren’t right for each other. Not in the long run. “I miss you too. And I know you didn’t cheat on me.”
Minho’s eyes fill with what you recognize as a mix of despair and tears, because after all, you’ve felt it in you too, before. “Then why? Why end it?”
“I feel like you don’t love me as much as I love you.”
The wheels turning inside of Minho’s mind and searching for possible reasons, immediately crash to a stop. “What?”
You shrug, drawing back your hands to tuck them into your lap, a habit that Minho has observed whenever you are nervous. “Remember when we were at that picnic with all of your friends? And Jisung and his girlfriend were also there? We were playing a question game.”
Minho nods slowly, still confused. “I do.”
“Felix had asked all the guys to think of why they love their girlfriends.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed. “Changbin had a whole list of reasons. But when it was your turn to speak, you had no answer.”
The recollection comes back to Minho like a tsunami. He hadn’t really ever thought much of that day; he always had trouble talking about personal things in front of other people, and he thought you already knew why he loved you. He didn’t know his inability to share something like that could hurt you so much, especially when he can write a whole book of reasons for why he loves you. Your smile. Your endless generosity. Your never ending patience for Minho’s antics. The way you always see the best in people, and how you light up the whole room when you walk in.
“Baby,” Minho starts, before realizing that he doesn’t have the right to call you that anymore. Reluctantly, he continues, using your name instead. “Y/N, I have trouble talking in front of other people. I love you so much, and if you know that, it’s all that really matters. A stupid game doesn’t change that.”
You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “But see, Minho, I don’t know. I don’t know how you’re feeling half the time. Felix’s question was just the icing on the cake. I’m exhausted from wondering. Wondering if you love me. Wondering if I really know you. Just wondering all the time. I shouldn’t feel that way.”
I’ll try harder to be more open. I’ll work on myself. I just— please believe me.”
“I do believe that you’ll try, Min. It’s who you are. But I can’t force you to be someone you’re not, and you can’t force me to want different things. We’ll only end up hurting each other more.” Your eyes fill with tears. “It hurts to love you.”
Minho flinches at your words, and he sees the sorrow in your eyes, but you say nothing to soothe the burn. Nevertheless, he keeps trying, as if he didn’t notice the determination written in your gaze as well. “I know I was senseless. But please— I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave, not again.”
You look away from him, a single tear sliding down your cheek, as Minho tries to hold back his own. The whole scene feels disturbingly like a few days ago, when you broke up with him in Morningstar. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.
“I tried to understand you. I did. But don’t you think that being senseless about everything that was going on also means that you were that indifferent towards me?” You scrub at your face to keep from crying even more.
Minho cringes, hearing the truth in your words. Once upon a time, he cherished the silence you both could share comfortably, working independently in the happy company of each other. Now the quiet hangs in the air like smog, a heavy uneasiness that he never imagined around you. “I really thought I could change. I swear.”
You nod, a brisk movement that doesn’t match the tears glistening on your face. “You should go now. Please.”
And you turn your head, as if you can’t bear to watch him any longer. Minho turns, his head hanging down like he’s a sinner. A small, ugly voice in Minho whispers that he truly is one, for hurting you and letting you go. It implores him to fall at your feet and stay, insisting, breaking at you until you crumble into his arms, taking him back. But the part of him that carries the resolve is stronger by a thread, the one that fuels his despondent retreat from your heart.
Later, holed away in the place he would now have to call his home, Minho is left alone in the bed that he’d once believed to belong to you as much as it did to him. The nights cuddled together and the mornings after, when you woke up to each other in a halo of sunlight, all fade away into the prickling solitude that now constitutes his new reality. There is nothing left for him to do now, except looking out at the sky through his tiny bedroom window, wondering if you were both gazing at the same moon in the separate worlds you both now are in. He’d left you one last message before promising himself that he’d never text you again, and thankfully, you never responded. He didn’t think you would.
catservant98: I’ll always love you.
“The festival will end by the time we get there.” Jeongin lets out an exaggerated sigh, making a show of checking the watch on his wrist.
“Shut up. I need to lock this place up properly or my parents will kill me,” Seungmin mutters grumpily, as he carefully turns the key in the lock to Morningstar, taking his time. “It’s not my fault that I’m the owner’s son.”
Jeongin, donned in a Harley Quinn outfit, bounces on his toes in uncontained anticipation. “Hurry up!”
Seungmin tugs at the lock for good measure, before turning and swatting at Jeongin, who yelps and jumps out of the way. His detective hat, which he wore as a part of his Sherlock Holmes costume, falls off, and Jeongin grabs it. Usually, Minho would have laughed at the way Seungmin has started to chase Jeongin around, but he just glumly stares down at his sneakers, having no energy to join in.
“You okay?” Chan notices Minho’s downcast gaze, slinging his arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Minho shrugs with one shoulder, out of options. “I’m fine. I have nothing else to do anyway.”
Today is Halloween, your favorite holiday of the entire year. It seems especially cruel to him, to have to confront this day without you by his side. It was never much of his scene, and he’d always been reluctant to dress up, but one look from your pleading eyes and he’d fold, decking himself in a cheesy costume and feeding you all the candy you desired. The night would always end in you both binging horror movies together because you were too scared to watch alone. The memory of Minho getting distracted, just watching you hide behind your hands the entire time, used to bring a fond smile to his face. Today, it makes him want to smash something into bits.
“Let me know if you want to leave the festival early, though. Changbin can drive you home later.” Chan juts his chin out at Jeongin and Seungmin, who are now smacking at each other, while Changbin responsibly tries to pull them apart. “I have to make sure those two idiots don’t get in trouble.”
“Thanks. But you don’t have to worry about me.” Minho gives Chan a half-hearted smile. Chan looks hesitant, like he wants to keep talking with him, but he nods, focusing on the moonlit path in front of them.
The roar of the annual Halloween festival that the university throws resonates throughout campus, drawing stressed students ready to throw aside their homework and party. But Minho is in anything but a celebratory mood; the last few weeks have been absolute agony. Ever since things fell apart. He just wants to go home and curl up into a ball under his covers, ready for this stupid night to be over. He didn’t even bother with a costume, choosing to stuff himself into his hoodie and make himself seem as small as possible. But he’s too tired to tell anyone, so he opts to stay quiet and gloomy on his own.
The gravel of the walkway crunches under their little group’s shoes, barely heard over the deafening sound of “Thriller” blasting on the DJ’s stereo. The entire main lawn of campus has been converted into a party space, crammed with different tents full of attractions, games, and souvenirs for students to indulge themselves in. There’s even a converted frat house that’s now a haunted house, as well as tables of snacks and lightsticks for people to wave around. Jeongin, Seungmin, and Changbin immediately zero in on the haunted house, running off to get tickets for it, leaving Minho and Chan alone. Two boys swaying together at the edge of the dance floor catch Minho’s eyes. He looks closer and notices that they both are dressed in an obvious couples costume, and it makes him think of you again— last year, he was Chucky and you were Tiffany Valentine, and you both won “Best Look” together, at the festival’s costume contest. Minho feels sick to his stomach.
“Oh my god, she’s stunning.” Chan’s eyes are wide, and Minho follows his gaze to a very pretty girl dressed in a white gown that seemed to float above her knees, two trailing pieces of fabric sticking out daintily from the back of her dress. An angel.
She approaches him with a shy smile on her face, as she not-so-subtly checks out Chan’s own dracula costume. “You look good.”
“I— you’re pretty,” Chan stutters, and they both blush.
Seriously?
“Thanks, Chris.”
Chan smiles lovingly at her. “You don’t have to call me Chris, you know. My friends call me Chan.”
“Chan,” the girl tests with a beam, before quirking her brow at him. “So I’m just a friend now? Not your girlfriend?”
“You drive me crazy, you know that?”
And then they both start kissing right then and there, which doesn’t seem to faze anyone else around them, considering the fact that they are surrounded by other couples. Minho, however, has to look away, his stomach turning. Is this how everyone else felt when he used to kiss you, whenever and wherever he wanted?
“Hey guys, I’m going to go find a place to sit,” Minho calls out to Chan, who barely notices in the midst of his make-out session. “You know what? Never mind.”
Cringing to himself, Minho makes his way over to the food tables, dodging at least five witches, seven ghouls, and six zombies on his way. He collapses onto the bench of an empty table with a groan, letting his head rest on the table before lifting it up like he’s been stung; the thump of the DJ’s bass seems to vibrate through the wooden tabletop, worsening his already horrible headache. What was he thinking, coming here?
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Minho looks up, ready to lash out at the intruder, before he notices it’s Hyunjin. He is so out of it that he hadn’t even recognized his voice. “I thought you were staying home and painting tonight?”
“Thought about it, but I kept getting distracted by all of the noise outside, and thought I’d take a snack break.” Hyunjin plops down on the seat across from him, setting a plate loaded with brownies, potato chips, and cookies cut into pumpkin shapes. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a baggy sweatshirt to fight the October chill, the only one besides Minho who hasn’t dressed up. “Want some?”
Minho shakes his head, watching Hyunjin dig in. “Can I ask you a question?”
Hyunjin nods, his cheeks stuffed with food. “Sure.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Minho fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, feeling his face heat up. He was never one for sentiments like this, but even though he and Hyunjin have more of a seemingly lighthearted relationship, they’re more alike than they think in how deeply they care about each other. “I mean, you’ve never even had a serious relationship before, but you’re like the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met. How does that even work?”
Hyunjin looks surprised, at first, but quickly smooths it away in understanding. “I do get lonely sometimes. But I just occupy myself with the things I love. Painting, reading. Just because I’m a hopeless romantic doesn’t mean I can’t be realistic. And I have been in a serious relationship before, remember?”
Minho frowns. “Oh. Right. What happened?”
He notices Hyunjin’s eyes flicker with something— grief, maybe. But the emotion is quickly replaced with indifference. Hyunjin shrugs. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. I love a good romance novel, but is it real life? No. I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.”
Minho stays quiet, unknowing of what to say. He never thought of himself as a huge relationship person either, but then again, that was before he met you. You changed his perspective on a lot of things, and most of the time, he thought it was for the better. Now, he feels empty, alone. He wants to match costumes with someone, and go bobbing for apples together. And he wants that someone to be you, only you.
Hyunjin must have noticed Minho’s melancholic contemplation, because he gives him a sympathetic look. “Is this about Y/N?”
Minho’s chest tightens at the mention of your name. “I don’t know, honestly. I just want to go home.”
“Same. I just came for the free food.” Hyunjin chews on a brownie, before swallowing. “Let’s go after I finish eating.”
Minho hums in response, pulling his hood over his head, as the rest of their group comes to join the table. Chan and his girlfriend, unsurprisingly, are discussing plans about some upcoming event for the Student Council. Jeongin and Seungmin, on the other hand, are immersed in a gleeful recollection about the haunted house with Changbin, who is dressed up as Woody from Toy Story. Everyone seems to have a role except him.
“That was actually wild,” Jeongin says. “If Jisung was with us, he would have fainted when he saw the chainsaw guy!”
Seungmin shudders, while Changbin glances around their table. “Hey, where is Jisung, anyway? And Felix?”
Chan breaks away from his own conversation as his girlfriend pauses to eat her slice of cake. “He’s handing out candy to kids at home. Meanwhile, Felix is Trick-or-Treating.”
Jeongin snickers. “Trick-or-Treating? What is he, ten?”
Seungmin grins evilly at Changbin. “At least he doesn’t have the height of a ten year old.”
Changbin rolls his eyes, but chooses to ignore Seungmin and Jeongin’s high-five at his expense, instead turning to Hyunjin. “Can I have a cookie? There are no more left.”
Hyunjin gives him a judgemental glare, but passes a cookie over anyway. “Where’s your girlfriend, by the way?”
Changbin stuffs half of the entire cookie into his mouth, licking the frosting on his lip. “She has work. But we’re going to meet up later tonight and watch movies. Wanna come?”
Hyunjin shakes his head. “I’m good. Minho and I are headed home soon anyway. Right, Minho?”
But Minho isn’t paying attention. His gaze is locked on none other than you and Taehyun, dressed in Hogwarts robes— you in Gryffindor, and Taehyun in Slytherin. He’s seen multiple people tonight sporting similar getups, and so both of you wearing Hogwarts robes doesn’t exactly entail a couples costume, but it makes his heart clench either way. Both of you are standing near the apple bobbing station, laughing and talking animatedly together. It hurts to see you enjoying yourself, while Minho has to struggle to keep himself together, to keep from breaking down on the spot. It hurts that he’s not the one matching with you right now, the one to be making you laugh, holding you on one of your favorite days of the year.
He watches as you and Taehyun walk closer to the haunted house. Your smile has now faded into an unsure expression, skeptical and tinged with fear. Taehyun puts his arm around your shoulders, evidently trying to assure you, before he leads you inside the house. Minho immediately springs up from the bench, fists balled up at his sides. You love everything about Halloween, except for one thing. You hate being in the dark, and so you had always avoided the haunted houses at every Halloween festival or any other event that you and Minho went to. Obviously, Taehyun doesn’t have a clue about your boundaries, and as always, you’re too kind to point them out.
Ignoring Hyunjin’s confused protests, Minho stalks after you and Taehyun, even though he knows that he should sit right back down. He told himself that he’d stay away from you if you didn’t want him, but if he even gets the slight sense that you are afraid, he’ll throw all reason out the window. He won’t let you go inside, not without him.
“Excuse me— you can’t go in right now. The haunted house is at full capacity.” The ticket collector stops Minho even though he shows her the ticket that Jeongin had passed out to everyone before. “Just wait for a few minutes for someone to come out.”
But he can’t. Not if you’re already inside. Minho steps back for a moment, and the collector glances back down at her phone. Before the collector can react, he rushes past her, running inside. She calls after him angrily, but he barely hears her. All he can register is the racing beat of his heart, and the faint screams deeper inside, wondering if one of them could be you.
He whips past the ax-wielding maniacs and the corpse brides in tattered dresses, pushing past their horrible acting and all of the other props in his way to you. Minho feels his hoodie snagged against a cloud of fake cobwebs, and the fake blood on the walls is enough to make him gag, but he goes on. A desperate search in nearly every nook and corner yields nothing, and Minho curses the haphazard quality of the setup, nearly tripping over a loose wire. As he passes through a room decorated like a murderous hospital room, he hears a small whimper from behind the fake operating table.
His senses perk up and there you are, sitting down with your knees drawn to your chest. With how his eyes have now adjusted to the dark, he can faintly make out your crouched body and the shine of your flowing tears. Immediately, he gets onto his knees, and envelopes you with his arms, firmly pulling you against his chest.
“Y/N, it’s me,” he murmurs, the scent of your coconut shampoo blocking out the stench of ammonia.
“Terry and I got chased by one of the ghosts and then got separated,” you mumble as you cry, shivering in his arms as he begins to rock you slowly. “I’m so scared, Minho.”
Minho looks at the tears still leaking down the sides of your face, and has to restrain himself from the instinct to kiss them away. Instead, he puts a steady hand to your skin, gently wiping them away. In this moment, you aren’t broken up. He isn’t your ex-boyfriend, and you aren’t his ex-girlfriend. You are the girl he loves, and him the very soul that has so vehemently devoted himself to even at such a ripe age, an inspiration and a shame to the vengeful spirits that govern your favorite holiday.
“I’m here now. I’m not going to leave you.” Minho gazes down at you. “Are you still frightened?”
You shake your head no, wide eyes clinging to his comforting presence. Minho gives you a small smile, rubbing your jaw softly with his thumb, a movement that doesn’t feel as inherently romantic as it generally would be. “See? You’re not afraid of the dark. You’re just scared of being alone in it. And that goes away when you realize something. You’re never really alone.”
Both of you just gaze at each other in the dark for a few minutes, saying both nothing and yet everything to each other. He carefully rests his palm against your heart, gaging the beat until it slows down to its usual calm. Wordlessly, he helps you onto your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as you both navigate the maze of the haunted house. You don’t encounter any other of the actors, but at one point, you jump in Minho’s hold, spooked by the amplified horror sound when passing by a speaker. Steadily, you both make your way out together.
The first thing Minho sees as he steps out of the exit is the array of blinding lights that shine on his face, in addition to the glow of the raging bonfire that has now been set up for students to roast marshmallows. Then he catches that shock of pink hair in the small crowd gathered outside of the haunted house; Taehyun, distress written all over his features as he speaks to the security guards.
You and Minho, however, stay frozen on the spot, just staring at each other with a fresh uncertainty. Realizing himself, Minho lets go of you. Contrary to how you felt, Minho could always read you like a book. He practically memorized all of your expressions, able to tell how you were feeling in an instant. But the indecipherable look you give him is baffling, but before you can open your mouth and say something, Taehyun notices your arrival.
“Y/N!” Taehyun immediately rushes over, his breathing labored from sprinting the distance to you. “I’m so, so sorry; I lost you and tried to come back inside to find you, but they wouldn’t let me!”
Minho steps to the side awkwardly as Taehyun hugs you tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Your tears are long gone, and you pat his back softly, giving him the comfort of your safety. “I’m alright, Terry. It’s all good.”
Taehyun pulls back to look at you, before turning to Minho, surprise and confusion on his features as if just registering Minho’s presence. You clear your throat, placing a hand on Taehyun’s arm. “Hey, could you give us a minute?”
“Sure. Of course,” Terry says, the stress on his face softening as he looks down at you. Minho recognizes it— it’s how he always imagined himself to look whenever he saw you.
You turn back to Minho as Terry walks away to a food stand, presumably to get you a warm drink. “Minho, I—”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Minho interrupts, unable to bear any more. He chokes back a sob, his eyes trained on your pained expression. “I need to go.”
“Minho, wait!” You grab his arm, and it places you both in the uncomfortable déjà vu of when everything ended.
He looks back at you, swallowing his dread and pushing away the angsty alert of his brain, the command to let everything go and just take you back, then and there. But he wouldn’t be the man you had always loved, then. Not if he takes advantage of you when you’re like this, vulnerable and exhausted. Not when there’s a perfectly good man standing at a distance, hesitantly holding a cup of hot chocolate for you. Not when he knows that he’s lost his chance of ever getting you back from the moment he gave up on you both. Minho realizes that he doesn’t have the right to call you his anymore, when you’ve finally found a man who prioritizes you over his pride and his insecurities— a man who will treat you right, and will never make you wonder if you’re his only one. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. That has to be enough for him. It will be.
Minho leans down before you can protest, kissing you on your forehead softly. You stay silent, looking up at him with those wide, inquisitive eyes, the very ones he fell in love with. “Stay smiling, always.”
And with that, Minho finally walks away, willing himself not to cry as he tries not to think of his heart breaking.
You watch Minho, dazed, as he walks away for the second and last time. It feels worse, somehow, than when he left your apartment, weeks ago. Minho had spoken to you so gently, inside the haunted house, calming you down in spite of the fact that you had so cruelly broken up with him, and then he proceeded to wish you his best, before leaving. You didn’t miss that note of finality in his voice, the one that told you that he wasn’t going to go back on his word. He had let you go.
You barely notice Terry approaching you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
He hands you a cup of hot chocolate, as you stare at Minho’s retreating back before it finally disappears within the crowd of partygoers. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for this, Terry.”
Terry blinks at you, slightly unfocused. “Yeah of course. But… can I ask you something?”
You nod, sipping the hot chocolate. It’s so warm and sweet, and it feels wrong to be drinking it. It feels like you don’t deserve it.
He hesitates for a moment, before speaking up. “What happened in there? In the haunted house?”
You bite your lip, still distracted by the thought of Minho; Terry’s question doesn’t pull at you as much as it probably should. “He just found me and helped me back. That’s all.”
Terry looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and you don’t question it. The rest of the night is clouded by an awkward rut that has originated from nowhere at all, one that you never guessed you’d experience with Terry. He walks you back to your apartment early, and waits next to you as you fumble with your keys.
“Good night, Y/N,” he says softly, as you finally wrestle your door open.
“Thanks,” you whisper back, too drained of energy to make one of the usual jokes traded when you both say goodbye. He tips his head at you like he always does, albeit in a less jaunty way, and steps into the apartment elevator at the end of the hall, flashing you one last little wave before the doors close.
You turn back to your apartment, walking inside and locking the door behind you once again. This time, you don’t go straight to your bedroom and drop onto your bed, like you always do after a horrible day. Instead, you stalk over to the kitchen, which is illuminated by a single, flickering lightbulb. You tug open the freezer, fishing out a box from your emergency stash of ice cream, the one thing bound to be on stock at all times. When you went grocery shopping some time ago, you didn’t think that a crisis would hit so soon.
Cracking open the lid of the chocolate ice cream, you take your scooper and place a bowl on the counter. After a second thought, you take out your blender as well, and scrape the ice cream into there instead, throwing in some milk and peanut butter as well. Tonight is a milkshake kind of night, you think, the kind that necessitates butterscotch chips and whipped cream as well, you note, opening the cupboard to get said ingredients. When you finish blending, you pour your icy salvation into a large tumbler and collapse onto the living room couch. You turn on the television, blankly staring at the screen while barely registering the dialogue playing.
“That’s not a milkshake— that’s diabetes in a glass.”
“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.” You shoot Minho a pointed look as you chug down your shake, savoring the sound of Minho’s laughter even more than a hefty peanut butter and chocolate combo.
It isn’t until you taste saltiness instead of the sweet milkshake that you realize you’re crying.
callmeterry: can we meet?
bobaluvrr: yes. see u @ morningstar
You stare into the bathroom mirror, checking your face one last time, inspecting it for bloodshot eyes and dry skin, the telltale signs of the tears that have now become a habit over the past few days. Ever since Halloween, things haven’t been the same since you and Terry. Although a fairly new friendship, you both spent a significant amount of time together after meeting at Jihyo’s birthday party. However, you haven’t seen each other at all outside of Writing Seminar nowadays— probably because during class, you’re too busy staring at Minho, who won’t even spare you a single glance. You’re determined to at least save your friendship with Terry, which is why you are so quick to agree to meet him.
“Catch you two later,” you call out to Sunoo and Soyeon, who both are slumped on the couch, watching One Piece over boxes of takeout butter chicken.
The journey to Morningstar doesn’t take long, especially since the vastly approaching night has gotten you nearly jogging, regardless of how safe your college campus is. Although it’s been nearly a month and a half, you still can’t get used to not having the security and comfort of your boyfriend. Serves you right, you think.
You enter through the glass doorway of Morningstar, the door chime ringing and announcing your entrance to Terry. He stands up from the table he’s sitting at, walking over to you with the genuine smile that you were fearful of not being able to see again. Terry looks heartbreakingly handsome, dressed in a long brown coat and wool scarf, an ode to the plaid shirt days and hot chocolate nights that you know you could have with him.
“Hi,” he says, pausing his gait when he’s a few feet away from you. Tentative, but still Terry. The bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands, however, isn’t.
You can literally feel your face fall, as you stare at the certainly expensive arranged red roses and lilies. “I—”
“Don’t.” Terry’s smile doesn’t fade, but the slight sheen of moisture to his eyes is new. “ I know. I’d rather not hear you say it. Please.”
You’re speechless as he hands you the flowers, the refreshingly floral scent wafting up and screaming at you to wake up. You had a feeling, you knew how Terry felt about you. But you didn’t think he’d act on those feelings so soon.
“You know, I’ve been in love with you since August. You walked into the very first day of class late, wearing this gorgeous pink dress— and God, I was so whipped. I even dyed my hair the same color.” Terry laughs lightly, but you can see the heaviness in his eyes, the same thing that you feel in your chest. “I didn’t approach you, though, because I saw the way you were looking at Minho.”
You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Terry…”
“And then you walked into the kitchen at that party; it felt like a sign. But that can’t have been true, because the way you looked at him didn’t change. It never will.” He stops for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. “When you both broke up, I ignored my heart telling me not to dig myself deeper into this, to leave you alone. But I couldn’t, Y/N, because I thought that the risk would be worth it. And it was, you know. You are worth it.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, at a loss for words. You don’t know what else to say, whether it’s a reaction to how your friend is pouring out his heart to you, or the fact that he’s always known that you’d never be his.
The smile on Terry’s face is now a sharp contrast to the strings of tears that mar it. “Don’t be. It’s Minho. It’s always been Minho for you.”
He turns, but you rush forward and block him. You can’t lose someone else. Not again. “Terry, wait! Can’t we be friends?”
“Of course we can be. I’d rather have you as a friend than not in my life at all. I’ll move on, eventually. But you have to go fix things with him now.” He flashes you another one of his signature beams. It doesn’t have the same joyful effect on you as it usually does, now that it’s tainted with sadness. “I’ll see you next class. Hold onto him, okay?”
Terry leaves, and you stare after him at the door, dumbfounded, haunting the entryway of the coffee shop nearing closing hours. You never saw this confrontation coming, not today. And you didn’t want it to happen any time soon, not like this. But no matter how much you want to deny Terry’s words, you know they are the truth. You know what you have to do. Because love works in strange ways, you realize, and now yours needs to be made right.
“We shouldn’t be here.” You say, shaking your head. “It’s dangerous.”
Minho just stares at you, his eyebrow skeptically quirked in a way that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “It’s literally just a bridge.”
You glare at him, before looking out at the arched walkway that connects the wooded expanse of the university library to the rest of campus. According to university lore, any pair of lovers that walks over Forsaken Bridge together is doomed to suffer an untimely separation; hence, its ominous name. And you would rather look stupid for believing in superstition rather than risk losing Minho.
“It can’t be.” You cross your arms stubbornly. “I know so many couples that came here, and they ended up breaking up.”
Minho says nothing for a moment, just pondering your words, and you think he’s about to step back, allowing you to cross the bridge first, before following on his own. But then he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bridge.
Your immediate reaction is to let out a small scream that cuts through the quiet night, and it’s quickly muffled by Minho’s hand gently closing over your mouth. “Trust me on this. Nothing bad will happen.”
You really want to remind Minho of what happened to Hyunjin and his girlfriend— well, ex-girlfriend— but you let him lead you towards your dreaded destination. Because you do trust him, more than anything.
The balmy summer night sticks to your skin, a feeling that will soon give away to the crisp bite of autumn. You’ve already moved back onto campus to get a headstart on the teaching assistant position for your biology professor, but for the first time ever, you don’t feel sad or apprehensive at the thought of going back to college again. This was the gap in time that you once despised because it signaled the unfortunate trudge of school life: textbooks, homework, and stress. But nowadays, you think it to be a reminder of something better: Minho, Minho, and Minho.
Your boyfriend takes an easy step onto the bridge, his hand tightly clasped in yours. You trail after him more cautiously, hiding behind his broad frame like the bridge will come alive and attack you. “You better not ever break up with me, Lee Minho.”
He turns back to look at you as you both near the center of the supposedly cursed bridge, his lips pressed together in a way that suggests concealed laughter; knowing him, it probably is. “Never. Now close your eyes.”
With a grumpy sigh, you oblige him, shutting your eyes. “For what, Minho?”
“I need to tell you something.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable. It’s a new color to him, compared to how assured and confident he always seems to be.
You crack open one eye, looking at him curiously. “What is it?”
He frowns, letting go of your hand. “No peeking!”
“Okayy.”
Minho takes a deep breath, right before he turns your world upside down. “I love you.”
Your eyes fly open, and Minho doesn’t complain this time, only gazing at you nervously, clutching his right arm with his left hand like he’s a little kid again. “What did you just say?”
Regardless of his uncertain body language, he looks you directly in the eye. “I love you, Y/N. And I know it’s too soon to say it, but it’s true. I love you, and you don’t have to tell me back, but—”
“I love you too,” you blurt out, and you both just stare at each other for a moment, in mutual shyness and surprise. You can’t believe how good it feels to finally say the words that were hanging off the tip of your tongue for the past few months since you started dating.
Minho’s beautiful face breaks out into a dazzling smile as he steps closer to you. “Then let’s make our own story for this bridge. Two people crossing the bridge together will be lifelong friends. And if they kiss, lifelong lovers.”
Your poor, racing heart can’t take anymore of this; what a man that you have found. “Kiss me, then.”
Minho gives you a tender look, and in that moment, you wish you had a camera to capture it. You can’t seem to remember your initial fear of coming onto this bridge, not when you have a beautiful boy who gazes at you with nothing short of absolute adoration. You’ll follow him anywhere, if it means you’ll stay together. Always and forever.
From when you were a little girl, your parents painted fairy tales for you in your childhood bedroom, of handsome princes mounted on midnight stallions and towering castles set against sunsets. For the longest time, you thought them to be true, because by the time you might have grown up, you found your own handsome prince, who rode a secondhand bike instead of a horse, and his castle was the sweatshirt-strewn dorm room he shared with two other boys. Nevertheless, you so strongly believed you would get your own happily-ever-after, that it took you a long time to accept the thorns in the rosy brush that constituted your outlook on life. You had a hard time understanding your prince, sometimes, and ended up spinning your own stories to fill in the gaps you thought he created. It never once occurred to you that life would never be perfect, and that your prince could not be exactly who you dreamed him to be.
It’s why you stroll the length of Forsaken Bridge alone, materializing its dreary name with your head bent and hands tucked in your pockets. But you’re not surprised either, when you see your prince, standing on the very place where he made you a promise that you broke yourself. His crown is misplaced and his armor has lost its luster, but he’s your beautiful prince, still beautiful while heartbroken over you.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” you say softly.
“I shouldn’t have.” Minho stares at the deteriorating timber planks beneath your feet. “But I can’t say no when it comes to you.”
You shake your head, sniffling lightly. You both hate and love him for being so understanding, so kind, even now. You hate yourself for it, too. “I broke your heart.”
Minho blinks, clasping his hands in front of himself. “There are so many things that I’m sorry and thankful to you for, but you know I’m not good at expressing myself.”
“That’s my line, Min.” You scoff through your tears. “I tried to force you to be someone you're not. And you respond by taking care of me, like you always have. And you listened to me instead of fighting. You walked away.”
“I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I have ever wanted. With or without me in the picture.” Minho shoots you a watery smile. “I love you, you know. I always will.”
You inhale shakily. “And I love you too. I was scared of being hurt because I love you so much. I shouldn’t have been so afraid of what I didn’t know. I should have tried to ask you instead of coming to assumptions on my own.”
“We’re in this together, okay?” Minho steps forward towards you, reaching up to hold your face in his hands. “Remember what I said? You never have to be alone. I’m right here, always.”
Minho rubs his thumbs over your tears, nothing but devotion in his eyes. You touch his arms, pulling him into a hug. “I know I ruined everything, but please come back to me? I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me too. And you ruined nothing.” He squeezes you. “We still have our whole lives ahead of us.”
You draw back from the embrace, smiling through your tears— for once, they’re the good kind. “I love you, Lee Minho. Let’s start over?”
“I love you too, Y/N.” Minho whispers, a grin slowly spreading on his face. “And I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we begin by finding an apartment, please? If I accidentally drink Hyunjin’s paint water one more time I think I will literally die.”
You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him teasingly. “Only because you want to escape Hyunjin? Not because you love me?”
He rolls his eyes playfully, a light blush tinting his pale skin. “You know what I mean.”
“You should show me what you mean.”
“I should.”
Minho obeys your command, leaning down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, before you grasp his waist, pulling him closer and deepening the movement. God, you missed this so much. You missed him, so much. Minho’s hands reach up to cup your neck as you trace endless love letters on each other’s lips, campus curses and bad faith banished from your lovestruck young minds.
“See? Looks like our story came true.” he whispers as you come up for air, nudging your nose sweetly with his own. “Lifelong lovers, we’ll be.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Minho kisses you once more and pulls back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “This means forever.”
Check out the rest of boys' stories on Love Playlist!
«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»
AUTHOR'S NOTE
It feels so good to get back to Love Playlist <3 This whole series itself was inspired by the cute, college au vibes of the K-drama Love Playlist and its spinoff, Dear M. (starring NCT's Jaehyun, a must-see), but this story especially was heavily based on Dear M.'s second leads. Brownie points if you've noticed which hit superhero TV series I took a piece of dialogue from! I just adore that quote so much. Anyway, I'm a sucker for Minho and this story has a special place in my heart. Can you guess who is next?! And thank you for supporting me, always!
-Dreamy
P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#kflixnet#straykidsland#k-labels#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#skzwritingcafe#skzsummertimeconfessions#neverendingdreams#stray kids fluff#lee know x reader#skz fluff#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#skz angst#stray kids angst#skz oneshots#skz recs#skz reactions#minho x reader#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee minho x reader
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Therapy - Part 5
💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕
"I'm guessing you know what we're going to talk about today."
You're sitting on the familiar couch in Miss Heather's office, swaying nervously back and forth like a rocking horse at full gallop. Your breathing is rapid and irregular, escaping as squeaky little puffs from your frantically bobbing pacifier. You feel your twin French braids slap your bare shoulders with each heaving swing. You hug yourself with crossed arms, digging welts into your thighs with your glittery acrylic nails.
Everything had been going so well for you these last few months. Christmas had come and gone without too much distress; your gifts were all dumb things like patterned diapers and fluffy petticoats, but you had expected nothing less when you saw the sparkling pink wrapping paper. You had started going outside more, with Miss Heather taking you on a short trip or errand every therapy session. Other than a few snickering college girls or confused old ladies on park benches, your diapers and ridiculous outfits had rarely caused a stir, and you stopped whining so much about the excursions after returning to Miss Heather's office.
But now you've ruined everything.
You wait for Miss Heather to give you some words of comfort, to talk you down from your frenzy. But she simply observes you with an unreadable expression. Many minutes pass, and fatigue starts to set in. Your breathing remains heavy, but slows into a normal rhythm. Your violent rocking reduces to an unsteady shiver. You look into Miss Heather's eyes, silently pleading for her to make it better. To forgive you. She remains silent.
You think back to the very first time you met Miss Heather, when your step-sisters first started faking your accidents. She had been unlike anyone you had ever met -- clinical and challenging with her questions, but still deeply kind. You had assumed that as soon as you explained how your family was treating you, she would contact your step-mom and put a stop to the diapers that very day. Looking down now at the pony-patterned cloud of padding taped to your hips, you shake your head at how naïve you had been.
You uncross your arms and grab the end of one of your French braids. It's tied off with a bouncy pink-and-silver ribbon. You hate wearing ribbons, or anything else prissy, but the pink and silver parts have different textures you like to touch. The pink is soft and silky; the silver is coarse and lacy. You never used to care about little sensations like that, but in your constant isolation and boredom, you find yourself exploring them often. Miss Heather encourages it, telling you it's a way to discover the world all over again.
You've calmed down now, remaining tense but still. You close your eyes for a few seconds, then let them flutter open, tickling your brow with the comically long eyelashes Lauren had glued on. You realize your therapy isn't going to start until you speak. You let your pacifier fall out of your mouth and dangle from its purple clip.
"It was stupid. I was stupid."
Miss Heather remains unsmiling, but you swear her eyes soften. You love her for that.
"Why did you do it?"
You swallow hard, feeling a lump in your throat. "I didn't want to do this anymore. I wanted to go back to how things were...b-before the diapers." You catch yourself. "Before MY diapers."
Miss Heather crosses her legs. "And you thought you could do that by stealing?"
You quake a bit when you hear her say the word. It was just a pair of cotton underwear. On clearance. Your step-mom had wandered off to find some cartoon-themed snow boots in your size, and you saw them on the shelf. The shortalls you wore yesterday had little pockets at the waist you could hide them in.
"I said I was sorry," you whimper. This is true. When Olivia had found the underwear in your room, she held you down and twisted your arm until you confessed. Your step-mom had driven you back to the clothing store and forced you to apologize to the lady at the register. You're sure the old woman had never seen an adult sob so much.
Miss Heather leans towards you and rests her chin on an open palm. "When would you have worn the underwear? Would you have taken off your diapers and hoped your step-mom wouldn't notice? Would you have left home?"
"I don't knoooooooow," you moan pathetically, leaning away and flitting your pretty eyelashes towards the ceiling as you pull on your braids. "I just wanted to have them."
Miss Heather lets the thought hang in the air before she speaks. "It's normal to want things you can't have. But to feel so strongly about it that you're willing to steal is very concerning. Do you think what you did was wrong?"
You sniffle. "Yeah..."
"Do you? Or are you just saying that because you think it's the right answer?"
You meet Miss Heather's gaze, which still shows more severity than sympathy. You ponder the question for a moment. "It was wrong to steal," you begin slowly, then add quietly: "But some days...it's just so hard to wear my diapers."
Miss Heather pulls out her smartphone and gives it a few taps. The TV screen on the wall lights up with a cartoonish diagram of the human brain. Pulling out a laser pointer, she swivels it around the section labeled "frontal lobe."
"In psychology, there's a difference between moral judgment and moral reasoning," she says, taking on the tone of a schoolteacher. "You can decide that something is right or wrong, but make a different decision based on what your desires are. Usually these two things line up pretty well -- we try to do what we think is right. But when our choices don't match our values, we want to correct the imbalance. We do this by trying to associate the bad behavior with something unpleasant."
Your mouth hangs open stupidly as Miss Heather lectures. She notices your confusion.
"Like a punishment," she clarifies, taking the image off the TV and setting her smartphone down. "Did your step-mom punish you after you apologized?"
You shift uncomfortably on your padded butt. You had kicked and screamed and pleaded, but your step-mom gave you the worst spanking of your life. "Yeah."
"That's normal. But fixing those connections between beliefs and choices is much easier when you recognize they don't match, and you take steps to confront it yourself. This is how guilt helps us. I know you have an icky feeling in your tummy that you just want to go away."
You nod sullenly, shuffling your feet. You watch the butterfly decals on the toes of your shoes glitter in the light.
Miss Heather goes on. "There's an old expression, 'an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.' The best way to avoid that yucky feeling is to fix the imbalance before you engage in the behavior. If you had told your step-mom in the store that you wanted to steal that underwear, but didn't do it, how would things have worked out differently?"
You hold your breath for a moment, considering the question. "I wouldn't have done it, because she would have been watching me."
"Do you think she still would have punished you?"
The memory of your spanking makes you wince again. "Maybe..."
"And that would have been a good thing! The punishment reinforces that connection between actions and consequences. But instead of feeling yucky guilt, you feel pride that you made the right choice and asked your step-mom for help in a moment of weakness."
You slowly pump your toes up and down, making the butterfly decals dance and shimmer. "So I should get punished even when I do nothing wrong?"
"You should ask to be corrected when you know you need it," Miss Heather replies. "Look at me for a moment."
You tear your eyes away from the trance of your pretty shoes and meet your therapist's gaze.
"Let's say you were left at home for a week. Your step-mom and step-sisters go away on a little trip and you're all by yourself. Do you think you would still follow all of your rules? Would you still wear your diapers?"
You know there's only one way you can answer honestly. It's a fantasy you've described to Miss Heather too many times already. "No," you say, starting to tremble. "I wouldn't."
"Would that be wrong, to break rules when your family is away?"
A lump finds its way into your throat. "Y-yeah..."
"So what do we do now? You know what's right, but your brain wants to do wrong. If it ever happens -- and it may happen someday -- you know that guilty feeling will start eating you up. What should you do about it?"
You grip your braids again, feeling the coarse silver and silky pink of the ribbons more intensely than ever. "A-ask to be punished?"
"Good!" Miss Heather smiles for the first time this whole session, and your heart begins to melt. The tension evaporates, washing away like a sand castle in the tide of Miss Heather's forgiving praise. "Why don't you lie down on your tummy and explain to me why you need to be punished. You can hold Mr. Kazoo if you'd like."
You're terrified by what's about to happen, but you're past the point of being able to fight it. You stretch out on the couch, your fat diapered bottom wiggling in the air. You pull your giant stuffed teddy bear from his perch on the floor and wrap your arms around his neck. "Sometimes I think about not wearing my diapers," you begin cautiously.
You hear the hardwood floors creak as Miss Heather rises and approaches, outside your field of vision. "Do you think you deserve to be punished?"
The shivering returns and you clutch Mr. Kazoo closer. "Um...y-yes."
The floorboards fall silent. You can smell Miss Heather's perfume behind you.
"The rule is that you always wear your diapers now."
You can barely breathe. "I shouldn't break the rules."
You scrunch up your face in frightened anticipation. Miss Heather says something else but you don't hear it. All you can think of is Lauren sneering at you as she delivers one of her favorite taunts: "Good girl."
Good girl.
Good girl.
You're going to be a good girl.
💕 Part 6 💕
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Old Habits Die Hard Part 9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: It's Mardi Gras weekend, and Bradley should know by now that his actions are always going to have consequences.
Warnings: Angst, swears, smut, fluff
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)
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Bradley breezed through his classes on Friday. This weekend was his fraternity's Mardi Gras party, one of his favorites each year. Usually he loved it because of all the tits on display. This year, he'd be there with you, which was perhaps even better.
"Why do I even waste my time?" he muttered, scrubbing the bathroom again. He had invited you to sleep over all weekend leading up to the party on Saturday night, and he didn't want you to have to use a disgusting bathroom. He also had to go with Jeff and Dev to pick up kegs soon. That ought to be fun.
Dev tried to keep the peace, but Jeff was still condescending. "Looks like you had a fun time in the study room yesterday," he told Bradley with an eyeroll.
Bradley just grunted, lifting one end of the keg. "Yeah." Yesterday, in the moment, it had been amusing to know that Jeff knew Bradley had fucked you in there. Now, Bradley was uncomfortable thinking about it. That should have been private, just between you and him... and maybe whomever was studying in the next room over.
And now Jeff had changed tack, and Bradley wanted to throw the keg at him. "She any good? Tight pussy?" Jeff asked casually, and Bradley shot him a warning look. "Just curious. She's cute, but I'd never hit it now that you've had her."
Bradley would love to punch him in the face. He had to take three deep breaths before saying, "Don't talk about her like that."
Jeff started cracking up. "How else should I talk about her?"
Bradley never talked about any girls like that. Sure, he'd enjoyed a lot of them, Phoebe many times over, but he couldn't stand the banter. "Don't fucking talk about her at all. How does that sound?"
Dev pushed Bradley out of the way and carried the keg with Jeff. "Chill guys."
If Bradley got into another fight, he'd be gone. Only three months until graduation. He needed to keep it together.
----------------------------
Bradley had his hands all over you at the party on Friday night. It was a smaller crowd, presumably leading up to the rager that the Beta fraternity would be throwing the next night for Mardi Gras. Every time you took more than a few steps away from Bradley, he pulled you back to him.
"Let's go upstairs, Sugar," he whispered to you over and over again. He had such an eager look on his face, you couldn't help but laugh.
He wasn't drinking anything, but every time you finished a drink, he offered to get you another one.
"We'll go up soon," you told him. It was effortless being around him. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he was sure acting like it. Acting like it enough that you could tell how pissed off Jeff was every time you saw him.
So far tonight, you'd seen Jeff all over two different girls. You couldn't even imagine if you'd started dating him what he'd be like now. He was either doing this to get under your skin and Bradley's, or he would have been doing it behind your back.
Bradley was standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders, subtly playing with your hair while you watched a game of beer pong. "Actually, let's go upstairs now, Beer Boy."
Bradley kissed your cheek and grabbed your hand, immediately pulling you toward the stairs. You had to hold the railing, laughing the whole way up as he was trying to take your shirt off.
"Bradley!" you scolded, and you were both laughing.
"Sugar!" he scolded you jokingly, but you came to a stop outside his door.
"Did you do that?" you asked, running your fingers over the hearts that had been drawn in black sharpie next to Sugar written on his door. Other than that addition, the door was exactly the same as the last time you saw it.
He nodded his head the tiniest bit. "Yeah."
You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stop thinking about having Bradley as your boyfriend. It wasn't going to happen.
"I like that," you said pointing to the ink and letting him lead you inside. You had his jeans down, kneeling in front of him right away. "Can I finish what I started yesterday?"
"Yeah," Bradley groaned loudly as you put your lips around his rapidly hardening dick. He was too big for your mouth, so you used both hands too. You bobbed your head a few times, sliding your tongue along the tip. As far as you could tell, guys loved this. You just weren't sure if your technique was good or not. Your mind drifted to Bradley doing this with Janessa, and you felt the burning need to be better than her.
You sucked hard on him for a few seconds until he moaned, running his hand along your cheek. You let him slip out of your mouth long enough to ask him, "Do you like that?" Your voice sounded deep and needy, and Bradley looked down at you with a subtle smirk that had you wrapping your lips around him again.
He maintained eye contact with you while he said, "I like everything you do."
Licking along his tip, the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. "Am I better for you than Janessa?" You paused with him resting right between your lips, your breath ghosting over him.
Bradley's lips parted, but it took him a few seconds to answer. "Don't compare yourself, Sugar. You'd make everyone else look bad all the time."
You sucked on him and took him as far as you could, rolling your tongue and listening to all of the noises he was making. When he started whispering your name, you hollowed your cheeks and squeezed his balls. He came so hard, hitting the back of your throat; you almost choked before swallowing him down. You looked up at him as a few tears leaked from your eyes, his dick still inside your mouth.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he told you.
-------------------------------
Bradley loved getting head. Watching you suck his dick was so fun for him, he'd remember it for the rest of his life. You made eye contact, struggling to take him all the way and choking on his cum. You shed some pretty tears, and Bradley scooped you up into his arms.
Softly, you asked him, "Will you go down on me?"
He nodded and kissed you softly. Giving girls head was a means to an end. He already got off in your mouth, so he could not believe he was agreeing to this right now. But he undressed you, spread you out on his bed and found that you were soaking wet.
"Did you get this wet while your mouth was on me?" he asked you, dipping a finger through your folds and opening you up a bit more to his gaze. Jesus, you were so pretty down here too.
"Yes," you gasped when his finger stroked your clit. He put his mouth on you, slid his finger inside and sucked gently. You were moaning so softly, rolling your hips against his mouth in a rhythm that Bradley found addicting in a way he never had before. He removed his fingers and licked a broad stripe slowly from below your opening to above your clit.
"Bradley!" you yelped and he grinned up at you.
"You liked that?" he asked as you nodded down at him. He kissed you softly as he whispered, "Tell me you liked it and I'll do it again, Sugar."
"I liked it," you said, your voice breaking on the words. When Bradley did it again, you moaned his name.
"Tell me how much you like it," he demanded with a devilish grin, licking you again. "Tell me, Sugar."
You just begged, whispering please again, seemingly unable to form any other words as you covered your face with your hands.
"You sound dumb, baby." He dipped his tongue into you, swirling your moisture until it was all over his face.
You sounded like you were crying when he put his lips back on your clit, and your hips were rolling harder. You came hard and loud, half laughing and half crying, and Bradley crawled up your body, kissing your sweetness into your mouth.
After a few minutes, you shuffled yourself under the blankets and curled up next to him, his pants still halfway down his legs. "I've never been able to cum like that before," you whispered, and Bradley grinned as you dozed off. If this is how it would always feel with you, then he wouldn't mind doing it over and over again.
-----------------------------
You went home to shower and change before the Mardi Gras party, and Bradley insisted on walking you there. "You don't have to," you said. "It's broad daylight outside!"
"I want to," he told you, covering your mouth when you tried to protest again.
"I'll walk back later with Janessa," you told him, promising you wouldn't walk alone.
Janessa did your makeup in the kitchen. "Glitter?!" you asked, cringing as she swiped some on.
"Stop scrunching your face like that. You'll fit right in this way. Just wait until you see what the other girls are wearing....or not wearing, I suppose," she told you, putting a purple shade on your lips.
"What are you going to wear?" you asked, trying not to move your lips while she worked.
"Not much," she said with a shrug. "I'm planning on getting some beads. Wanna borrow something tiny?"
"Beads? Like flashing the guys?" you asked, suddenly kind of wanting to stay home.
"Yeah, it's fun. Doesn't mean anything. Except when I flash Tyson... that's going to mean something." Janessa was smirking now.
Bradley was going to be waiting for you if you didn't show up. You exhaled, saying, "I guess. Give me one of your shirts."
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom and almost laughed. Janessa's shirt was so small, it looked like an oversized sports bra. But at least it had long sleeves. You threw Bradley's sweatshirt on over your outfit, planning on leaving it on for awhile.
When you and Janessa arrived at the house, it was more packed than you could have ever imagined. There were literally topless girls hanging out on the porch, and you had no idea how the guys weren't getting a noise complaint at the moment.
"Let's go," Janessa yelled, dragging you inside the house. When you didn't see Bradley right away, you made your way toward the kitchen, hoping he would make it easy for you in this crowd. There were beads flying across the living room and people were standing on the couches.
You caught some beads before they could hit you in the head and looped them around your neck. "Thanks," you muttered to the guy who threw them as he chanted Flash us!
When you were practically shoved through the kitchen door, you saw him, sitting on the counter next to Dev and sipping a beer. There were two girls with them, laughing and probably flirting, wearing shirts smaller than the one you had under Bradley's sweatshirt. Your heart sank.
"Sugar," Bradley said when he saw you, hopping off the counter and shoving past both girls. You didn't know why you felt nervous. As soon as he reached you, he was kissing you right in front of the others. "Hi."
"Beer Boy," you whispered next to his lips, and you watched him smile.
He pressed his lips to your neck, and you saw both girls eyeing you up with interest. Well, this was a new feeling for you.
"Let's get you a good beer," he told you. He opened two and handed you one. "Wanna walk around?"
You laughed. "It's so packed, I don't see how we could walk around.
"We'll manage. Nice shirt, by the way," he said with a smile, tilting his beer toward his own sweatshirt on you. "What you got on underneath?" he asked, licking his lips.
"Not much," you told him with a smile, knowing he would find out later.
"Love to hear that," he said, taking your hand and leading you out into the crowd and noise.
You had to yell to be heard. "Why are there so many guys here tonight? Usually it's mostly girls."
Bradley leaned in closer to you. "We invite guys from other frats to this party every year. Kind of a goodwill gesture. Come for the free beer, stay for the girls," he said with a laugh. "I don't know most of them, so stay close, okay?"
You agreed as he nodded toward the beer pong tables and raised his eyebrows.
"Yes," you confirmed. Now that you'd gotten so much better, you didn't mind playing in front of a crowd.
Bradley got your body squared up just like last time, his hands lingering on your hips and sliding up under the sweatshirt. "You know, if you're too warm, we can just take this off...."
You didn't stop him when he slid the fabric up higher and higher, revealing your bare torso inch by inch.
"Damn, Sugar. Are you wearing anything under this?" he asked, and you laughed before he finally revealed green fabric. "That's a tiny shirt." He was licking his lips as he looked at your breasts. You'd skipped a bra, and it was so obvious right now. You were afraid everyone was looking at you, but no... just Bradley.
You almost whimpered as he tossed his sweatshirt into the corner and let his hands rest on your waist.
"Focus, you two!" called a random guy from the other end of the table, and Bradley got you in place again.
"Just like last time. It's math," he reminded you, taking the first shot and making it into a cup.
You jumped up and down, and his eyes were instantly on your breasts again.
"God, this is going to be a fun night," he told you.
-----------------------------
Bradley watched you make two shots in a row, throwing your arms around him in celebration. "We won!" you cheered, and he kissed you hard on the mouth. He ran his hands along your back.
"You're good at it now." He set the table up again, getting it ready for the next set of opponents to try to beat you. Bradley glanced around the room, every once in a while spotting some bare tits. The Beta guys were handing out liberal amounts of Mardi Gras beads, and he had a few strands in his pocket, but he was planning on giving them all to you.
He had spotted the gold strand around your neck before. "Where'd you get the beads, Sugar?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
You rolled your eyes. "Some guy threw them at me and then tried to get me to flash him. Idiot did it in the wrong order," you told him with a laugh.
Bradley laughed as the next pair made their way to the table. "You wanna earn some more beads?" he asked, pulling you against him with a smirk.
"From you?" you asked. It was so loud, Bradley had to practically read your lips. He nodded in response and almost fell over when you pulled up the bottom of your little crop top, and glancing side to side, revealed your tits to him. Your body was pressed against his pretty good, so he only caught a glimpse, but he smiled so much his cheeks hurt.
"God damn," he whispered in your ear as you blushed and pulled your shirt back down. He slid one hand inside your shirt and pinched your nipple. Your eyes went wide and you gasped. Bradley kissed your open mouth and looped some purple beads around your neck.
Then he guided you to the table, acting like he didn't have a semi hard dick when he took the first throw.
You were getting drunk after the second and third games, dancing around next to him. At one point, he had to guide you closer to the wall, because you were insisting on flashing him again. "Just take all my beads, baby. They are all yours," he promised, adding all of the strands from his pocket to the ones you were already wearing. You were giggling nonstop now and reaching for him. He was planning on taking you upstairs soon.
Bradley knew Phoebe was out on the porch, and he had spotted Jeff a few minutes ago, but he seemed to be keeping his distance, thankfully. "I need the bathroom," Bradley told you. "I'll be right back."
So Bradley walked away as you started to set up the beer pong table again. You were smiling, and the two of you were on a roll, knocking out all of your opponents. He ran upstairs to his bathroom to pee. When he looked in the mirror, which he hated doing, he actually looked happy. Huh.
He wove his way back through all of the tits and found you standing with your back to him. Some guy he didn't recognize was talking to you, and Bradley wanted to start the next round of pong, but he froze as the guy ran his fingers down your side.
You didn't back away when he asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Bradley watched you shake your head, and he clenched his fists. "No, I don't have a boyfriend," you answered, and the guy smiled at you in such a way that Bradley wanted to level him.
When he touched you again, you stumbled backwards a step and laughed, encouraging this dickhead.
"What the fuck?" Bradley asked nobody in particular. While he supposed you weren't lying, it made him so angry that you were still chatting with the other guy. The thumping music was starting to make Bradley's head pound. He really needed to get out of this room now, and he wanted to beg you to come with him to the kitchen or his bedroom or outside. Anywhere away from everyone else.
"Bradley!" called a girl with her naked tits covered in beads. "I haven't seen you in weeks!" He was pretty sure this girl had, until very recently, had her name written on his door.
"What's up?" he asked her, still watching you with most of his attention.
"Just having fun!" she announced. "I don't know if you remember my name, but it's Willow. Can we go upstairs?"
"No," he told her softly, letting his eyes dip down to her chest. Her nipples were peeking out between the beads, and he thought for a second that he did remember fucking her. It had been fun.
"No?" Willow asked, pulling his hands up to her chest. Maybe Bradley had more beer in him than he originally thought, because he was having a hard time processing. She started kissing his cheek, inching toward his mouth as she laughed.
She kissed his lips, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Bradley sighed, running his fingers aimlessly along her body, stopping at her tits. If you were going to flirt with other guys, why couldn't he do the same? But the thought made him uncomfortable.
"Wait, no," he managed to say, backing away.
She pouted. "Well can I at least have more beads then?" she asked.
"I gave them all away," he said, turning back to where you were looking thoroughly upset. "To Sugar. Sugar!"
------------------------------
You were going to throw up. You turned away from Max, a guy you used to tutor in calculus, before you spotted Bradley just across the beer pong table. He had his hands all over a topless girl, and they were kissing. She was reaching for the front of his jeans, and he wasn't doing anything to stop her. You watched Bradley's hand skim over her breasts as if you weren't right here. As if you hadn't just flashed him and let him touch you. As if you meant nothing.
You wanted to rip his fucking door right off the hinges and throw it out his bedroom window.
"Sugar!" he called when he turned to face you. But you started walking away, you already had tears in your eyes now, so you swiped them off your cheeks. He wasn't worth crying over, but you couldn't help it. You had feelings for him, after just meeting him last month. You knew how he was, but you let yourself fall anyway.
You squeezed through bodies, having an easier time of it than Bradley with his bigger form.
"Sugar!" he called. "Wait!" But you just moved faster until you were out on the front porch. You saw Phoebe, and she gave you a dirty look which just made you want to cry even more. You were such a fucking idiot, you took off down the sidewalk. But out in the open, Bradley caught up to you easily.
"Talk to me!" he demanded, and you turned around to gape at him.
"About what? You touching that girl's boobs? Or you shoving your tongue down her throat?" you asked, sobbing a little bit.
Bradley looked like he was in agony. "Why the fuck did you tell that guy you don't have a boyfriend?"
"Because I don't, Bradley! The last guy who asked me out was Jeff, and I told him no!"
"Why were you flirting with him? And letting him touch you?"
Now your anger was taking over and the sadness was receding. "I wasn't! I told him to stop! You know what, Bradley? You have a lot of nerve. You touched her and kissed her, and you're trying to make me feel bad?"
"Sugar, I didn't-"
"Stop calling me that!"
Bradley ran his hands through his hair. "Look, I fucked up, but it won't happen again!"
You laughed at him and started walking away again, shivering in the night air with your skin exposed. "No shit, it won't happen again. Lose my number. And repaint your fucking door."
"Will you listen to me?" he asked, grabbing you by the shoulder to stop you. "I really like you!"
You just shook your head and started crying more. "No, you don't. You think you do. You even made me think you did, but you don't."
"Fuck!" he shouted. "I have never dated anyone before, and I want you to be my girlfriend."
You stood stunned, in the middle of the sidewalk. "No." You turned and walked toward your apartment with Bradley on your heels. "Leave me alone," you told him, wiping your tears away as you went. But he stayed with you until you reached your building. "Will you leave me alone? Please?" you asked, hiccupping. You forced yourself to turn to face him, and when you did, the urge to throw up returned.
He looked devastated. You had wanted him to be your boyfriend. You really wanted him to want to make it official. And now he had ruined it. He had ruined all of the times he had been so sweet to you. Every memory was going to boil down to this moment for you.
"I just... needed to make sure you got back safely," he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I'm sorry. I fucked up. I wouldn't do it again. I would be a good boyfriend." His eyes looked watery, but you knew you had to stand your ground.
"Lose my number. Paint your door." You went inside.
-----------------------------------
Wow.... nice going, Beer Boy. Sugar knew better than to get involved. Gotta thank @mak-32 once again... this fic is for you.
Part 10
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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster fanfic#rooster x reader#rooster x female reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#rooster bradshaw x female reader
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Blue Pills
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader (au)
Words: 3,1k
Summary: Trying to get revenge from Gojo, Sukuna tricks him into taking viagra. Luckily for him, you’re around to help. (smut / nsfw)
A/N 1: I wrote this whole fic while listening to one song on repeat lol Hope you guys like it!
A/N 2: If you guys have problems reading this on dark mode, please let me know
Warnings: Mature content, Sukuna makes Gojo take viagra without knowing, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), creampie, swearing, Sukuna hears you guys doing it, reader is Sukuna’s twin sister.
It was a hot night in June when you and your friends walked back from a concert you had just watched. Enjoying your summer break, you and your college friends had decided to take a trip, catching on to a festival that was supposed to endure the whole week with many artists that you guys liked.
The whole place was packed, full of sweating and drunk people dancing around and screaming songs at the top of their lungs as loud music blasted all day long. It was awesome! To say the least.
The whole idea of coming to the festival was Gojo’s. He had convinced everyone to come, even your moody twin brother, Sukuna, who apparently was having a lot of fun, much to his dismay.
“Fuck, today was crazy!” Gojo exclaimed, sitting on the grass beside Geto while you guys waited for your bus to arrive.
“I really liked that Dj, his show was awesome!” You said before taking a long drag from your water bottle.
You guys enjoyed the cool breeze hitting your bodies as the sun started to set in the horizon. Water bottles were emptied and Nanami’s last chips had to be shared among everyone.
Once the bus arrived you sat on one of the free seats, beside Shoko, who seemed more tired than you were. The boys found places on the back of the bus, Nanami resting his head against a window as he tiredly closed his eyes. Sukuna sat on the opposite window, checking his phone while discreetly checking his pants’ pocket for a specific pill.
“Hey, I got your guys some beers before we left.” Your brother announced, showing Gojo and Geto two open beer cans in his hands. “For yesterday’s pizza, you know?” He offered the beer, reminding the duo of the pepperoni pizza they paid for everybody the night before.
You turned your head to look back. That was odd. Sukuna wasn’t a kind guy, if someone paid something for him, he would never feel like he had to pay it back, you knew that very well, and so did the boys, both of them frowned, staring at the pink-haired guy weirdly.
“What?” The tattooed boy asked innocently.
“What’re you up to?” Geto eyed him, trying to find his true intentions behind his red eyes.
“Just trying to make up for yelling this morning, I know that I get out of hand sometimes.” Sukuna shrugged before getting up and moving to sit on an open seat in front of you.
It was true, he got out of hand way too many times to be honest. That morning, Sukuna had gone crazy after a sleepy Gojo spilled coffee on his white t-shirt, making a big stain on it.
Suguru and Gojo eyed each other for a second before the white-haired shrugged and drowned a long sip of the beer.
But Geto knew better, he knew Sukuna for enough time not to believe in a single word of what he said. He stared at the open can then looked at Sukuna, spotting when he had his head turned back, eyes fixed on Gojo, who was drawing the last sips of the can, a smirk forming on the pink-haired’s lips. That was all Geto needed to know that something was up.
“You can have mine.” Suguru gave it to Gojo. “I’m not really thirsty.”
“Thanks,” The white-haired replied, getting the can from the brunette’s hand and starting to drink it.
Taking a cigarette out of his pockets, Suguru got up, taking a seat beside Sukuna before offering him a cigarette.
“I don’t know what you put in the beer, but it better be entertaining.”
“How did you know?” The tattooed guy asked.
“I know you well enough.” He shrugged, lighting up his cigarette.
Sukuna smiled. “In this case, don’t worry, it will be very entertaining.”
Time passed by and when you noticed you were entering the hotel lobby, Sukuna walking in front as he was followed by the rest of the gang. Nanami and Shoko followed behind while Suguru decided to flirt with the receptionist. You and Gojo coming last.
“Didn’t find a girl for yourself tonight?” You asked him as all of you stopped at the elevators.
“Nah, wasn’t feeling like it today.” He smiled slightly. Being in a place so full of people like this, you’d assume Gojo would be taking a different girl everyday to the hotel, but he hadn’t brought any, since day one.
“I find that hard to believe, buddy,” Geto said as he approached the group, the receptionist beside him.
Gojo frowned and so Geto pointed towards his pants, where a huge bone was visible.
“Damn!” Shoko said laughing.
“I don’t understand,” Gojo looked down, eying his own tent in confusion.
“Oh but I do very well.” Sukuna smiled proudly.
Satoru lifted his eyes to look at the pink-haired, demanding some sort of explanation.
“You found it really funny when you and Geto locked me out of the room naked last night, right?” His smile got bigger.
“Wait. What?”
Geto chuckled.
“Relax, it’s just some viagra. Just so you can spend the night thinking of me.” Sukuna smirked, whispering the last part before a dry chuckle left his lips.
“You gave me viagra!?” Gojo raised his voice.
“Yup. And you’ve got Geto’s dose too, so… have a good night.” Sukuna smirked one last time before entering one of the elevators along with you, Geto and the receptionist.
“Why did you do that?” You asked your brother.
“Relax, it’s just a prank.”
“You’re such a dick sometimes.” You slapped his shoulder, to which he just rolled his eyes.
“You know that this can be dangerous right?”
“Gojo’s young, there’s nothing to be worried about.”
“How could you agree with this, Suguru?” You turned your head towards him, but he didn’t reply, his mouth was too busy kissing the receptionist.
You gave them a disgusted look before looking at the pink-haired again.
“Let’s take a look at the box, since you’re so worried,” Sukuna said as you exited the elevator, taking the viagra box from inside his backpack as you guys walked towards your rooms.
“One pill… thirty minutes to take effect… usually lasts for two hours…”
“Two Hours!!??” Gojo shouted, he was at the end of the corridor.
“Well, I bet on four since you took my beer too,” Suguru said chuckling before entering his room and closing the door behind him.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Sukuna.” Gojo started walking faster towards your brother, who quickly entered his room, closing the door right when Gojo got there, kicking the wood with strength.
Shoko and Nanami passed by, both being too tired to do anything about the situation, leaving you and Gojo alone in the corridor.
He looked at you, and you could see a mix of angriness and despair in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Gojo.” You smiled apologetically, touching his arm slightly before entering your own room.
You sighed as you closed your door, a part of you wanted to offer yourself to help him. It wouldn’t be much trouble since you always thought he was really hot. But you knew that Sukuna would freak out if you even kissed him.
His friends were forbidden for you. And you were forbidden for them. Those were the rules.
One hour after that, you had just exited the bathroom, after having taken a long bath, very calm and relaxing. Listening to your favorite album on your headphones, you were unaware of the loud banging at your door.
As soon as you took them off, Gojo’s voice filled your room as what you assumed were his fists hit the wooden door repeatedly.
“Open the door, Sukuna!”
You heard him shouting.
“Sukuna!”
Wrapping yourself in a towel, you opened the door, his fist stopping inches away from your face as he tried hitting the door again.
“Gojo! What the fuck!?”
“Y/n? Shit. Sorry, I was looking for your brother actually.” He lowered his voice, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed by the situation.
“No shit.” You rolled your eyes while his traveled down your figure, clenching his fists when he saw you were in just a towel, feeling his member twitch inside his pants.”
“That’s his room.” You pointed towards the door beside yours.
But Gojo didn’t reply, nor moved. You looked at his face and noticed his gaze fixed on your body.
“Hey!” You snapped your fingers in front of him.
“Shit, sorry, y/n. It’s just that I’m….”
“Horny? Yeah, I can see that.” You finished for him.
“Yeah.” He looked down.
“No luck with that?”
“No…. Sukuna could at least give me the box, I wanted to see if there’s nothing I could do.”
“Knowing my brother, he’ll never open that door.”
“Yeah, I know.” He took one step back.
“To be fair Gojo, I think there’s only one thing you could do…” You raised your eyebrows.
“Yeah, I know… Fuck!” He walked a little in the corridor before stopping in front of your door again.
“You need to help me, y/n.” Pleading eyes, filled with frustration staring at you.
“What!?” You choked on air.
“Please. I’m begging you.”
You bit your lower lip as your imagination ran wild on the things you could do to him.
“I can’t take this anymore.” He pleaded, face filled with despair.
You took one step back, opening the door wide for him to enter the room.
“Thank you, y/n. Thank you.” He said as he passed through the door, stopping near your bed.
You took in a long breath as you closed the door, turning around to face him.
“Okay, let’s see our options…”
He eyed you expectantly.
“Have you tried… you know.... jerking off?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s not happening.”
You blinked a few times. “Do you know why?”
“I don’t know, maybe I didn’t have the inspiration.” He looked at you up and down, and you cursed yourself internally as you felt your core start to get heated.
Fuck this. You thought.
Gathering all your courage you stopped in front of him, getting on your knees and starting to undo his pants.
“What are you-”
“What do you think? I’m helping you.” You answered, pulling his pants down to his ankles, happy for the fact that he came barefoot, making it easier for you to remove the fabric completely.
Even though you knew he was hard, you couldn’t help but widen your eyes when you pulled down his underwear and his member almost touched his belly. It had an average thickness but it was long, so long. His pink head was swollen, you could see that he tried to touch himself as precum was already leaking.
Your hands delicately touched his member, running your fingertips and nails along his length, hearing as he sighed from how sensible he already was. You closed your hand around him, moving it up and down a few times before you got closer to him, licking his tip slowly.
“Shit.” Gojo hissed.
Taking that as an incentive, you opened your mouth further, taking the tip of his member inside of it. Starting to move your head up and down his length, you used your hands to take care of the rest as you created a slow pace.
Looking up, you saw Gojo’s eyes closed as he bit his lip. The sight was quite amusing, so you kept staring at him, trying to memorize every detail of it. He opened his eyes and looked down, meeting your gaze. His baby blue orbs filled with desire as his pupils dilated.
His burning gaze making your core get wetter and a small moan leave your throat, causing pulsations on his member that made him moan in pleasure.
Increasing the speed of your movements, you hollowed your cheeks, making Gojo groan as his hands went down to your hair, grabbing your strands firmly. After some time, his breaths were heavier and he whispered your name out while you kept on sucking him, tasting his precum in your mouth.
“Fuck, y/n.” He moaned, tightening his grip on your hair with both hands as he started to thrust against your mouth.
Your hand let go of his member, finding his thighs for support, as you tried your best to relax your throat and not to gag on him. Your nose almost touched his thorax as he moved his hips back and forth in your mouth. Your eyes started watering as he kept going deeper and deeper on your throat.
He stopped for a second, his cock completely stuffed inside your throat, holding you in place for a few seconds, causing you to gag against his length, making him groan. His member started pulsing and you knew that he’d cum soon, so you used one of your hands on his balls, playing with them gently to help him with his climax.
“Oh, fuck” He groaned loudly as jats of his sperm hit the back of your throat, slowly sliding down.
He kept your head pressed against his thorax for a few more seconds before letting go of you, making you gasp loudly for air, as you let go of his balls. A thick line of saliva still connecting your lips with his member as you whipped the tears that had formed in your eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He gave you a small smile, as you licked the last remains of his sperm from his tip.
“It’s ok.” You said looking up at him.
“Shit. Don’t look at me like that.”
You smirked getting up. “How’re you feelin’?”
“Better, but it’s not over yet.” He said looking down and realizing that he was still hard.
“Well, we can deal with it in other ways too.” You smiled innocently as you removed your towel from yourself, letting it hit the floor, revealing your naked form to him.
He stared at you open-mouthed for a few seconds, before he removed his t-shirt, throwing it on the floor and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a heated kiss.
Your tongues swayed together in sync as the two of you started walking towards the bed, stopping when the back of your thighs hit the mattress and he gently pushed you on it, climbing on top of you.
His lips moved to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and small bites on your skin that set your body on fire. He obviously noticed that, and moved one of his hands to your right boob, playing with your nipple before his mouth started working on your left one.
“Satoru” You whispered his name, so low that he wasn’t even sure if you had really said it, or if it was his imagination.
“Say that again.” He whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe at the same time as his left hand found your core, sliding one finger between your folds.
You repeated his name, this time loud enough for him to hear, making a proud smirk show up on his face. He slid his finger inside of you, feeling how wet you already were for him, making his member pulse against your thigh.
“So wet already, baby.”
You could hear the smirk in his voice as a small moan left your lips.
He moved a little, his eyes straight into yours as he asked: “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You replied, pulling him down for another lustful kiss.
You slowly felt him penetrating you, your tightness around him making the two of you moan at the same time. Gojo placed one of his hands on the wall behind the bed while the other gently grabbed on your waist as he started moving in and out of you. At the same time as you grabbed his arm with one of your hands.
“You said your brother is in the next room right?”
“Yeah…. Why?”
“I want him to hear us.” A devilish smirk forming on his lips.
“Are you crazy? He’s gonna kill you.” You widened your eyes.
“After tonight… I don’t fucking care. ‘Been waiting long enough to have you.”
He leaned down, kissing you hungrily as he started moving faster and rougher, finding your G-spot and hitting it repeatedly, making a loud moan leave your lips. Gojo kept his moves, creating a steady yet fast pace in and out of you, making your moans grow increasingly high with each thrust of his.
“Fuck…. Satoru.” You moaned.
“You can be louder than that, baby.” His voice was hoarse with desire.
He started applying more strength on his thrusts, the bed involuntarily moving along, its headboard repeatedly hitting against the wall, and if you weren’t so lost in your own pleasure, you’d be worried about Sukuna hearing, but now, you just couldn’t care less.
You circled your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper than ever, every moan of yours filling the entire room as everything seemed to grow hotter and hotter as the time passed by.
Just as you started to feel your walls clenching around Gojo, a loud bang at the door caught yours and his attention.
“Y/n!” Sukuna’s voice caught your ears.
But at this point, you wouldn’t be able to stop, not even if you wanted to.
Gojo seemed too entranced to care either, his mouth stuck on your collar bone, marking you in hickeys as you finally reached your climax, your vision getting blurred for a second as your legs started shaking and Gojo’s name left your lips louder than ever.
You soon felt his liquids filling you up as he kept thrusting, riding out both yours and his climaxes, before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your chest, as the two of you tried to catch your breaths.
“Y/n!” You heard Sukuna again.
Gojo chuckled lightly against your skin, sending vibrations through your body, making a smile appear on your lips.
“How’s your friend doing now?” You asked, eying him.
He looked up at you, before looking down. “I think he might need some extra care.” He smiled, making a small laugh leave your throat.
“Y/n open this fucking door!”
“Fuck off, Kuna!” You yelled back.
You heard him yelling some curses towards the door, as Gojo got up. For a second you thought he’d open the door, but he simply stopped near it and said loud enough for Sukuna to hear.
“I’m gonna keep her busy for some more hours, Ryomen! Go take some sleeping pills, or whatever.”
A proud smile was on display on his face as he turned towards you.
“Join me in a bath?” His smile slowly turning into a smirk.
Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated <3
Masterlist
#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfic#satoru gojo fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk
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christmas wrapping
“When what to my wondering eyes should appear
in the line is that guy I’ve been chasing all year!”
eddie munson x reader, ~1500 words
“I love the holidays, I love Christmas,” you mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you wrestle with the roll of icy-blue paper. Cartoon snowmen and polar bears stare back at you with their unmoving little eyes, mocking your frustration.
Gift wrapping isn’t your strong suit. It’s like as soon as you pick up the scissors, you lose all motor function in your hands. The presents you hand out end up covered in more Scotch tape than they are actual paper.
Armed with a pair of big kitchen shears, you glide the blade as carefully as possible through the paper. The rectangle you’re trying to cut is almost free from the roll when the paper snags, and instead of following the clean line you were aiming for, it wrinkles and veers to the side, leaving you with a huge shred in the corner.
An angry squeal escapes from your lips and you set the scissors down on the plush living room rug. You close your eyes and count to five, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself down.
You swear you’re not usually this grumpy during the holidays. But it seems like everything that you normally love doing in the buildup to Christmas has just been so terribly exhausting.
First, there was a new promotion at work. While the better pay was wonderful, you were slightly unprepared for the extra stress that came with your new position. Every day it felt like you were scrambling to stay on top of everything, putting in extra hours just to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks. It left you with hardly any time to get your shopping done, so you ended up having to take multiple trips to the department store — always just before it closed, God bless retail employees for having the restraint not to kill you right where you stood — wandering around to try and pick out suitable gifts for everyone. Not to mention that there are a few you ordered from a catalogue, which are still nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that it’s Christmas Eve and you needed them like, yesterday.
As if all this wasn’t hectic enough, you had been positively bombarded with invitations. Three separate work parties — office, departmental, and company-wide. Then dinner and drinks with the coworkers you actually like. White elephant with your buddies from college. Ornament exchange with the cousins from your Mom’s side, Secret Santa with the cousins from your Dad’s side. A Christmas movie night with your childhood friends.
The list went on.
Finally, you’d put your foot down. No more parties, no more “fun holiday activities” that were starting to give you more anxiety than joy — you needed a fucking break.
That’s how you ended up alone on Christmas Eve, finishing up the last of your gift-wrapping. Soon you would tuck the final present under your tree, then stick the world’s smallest turkey into the oven, and lay on the couch waiting for it to be done, all in beautiful solitude. You even took the phone off the hook, just in case.
After another brief struggle, you finally manage to cut a substantial amount of paper to cover this last gift. You fumble with the box and clumsily wrap it up, sealing it with copious amounts of tape. There’s a flood of relief that washes through you when it's finally under the tree; it’s as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.
When that’s finished, you bustle about in the kitchen to make your dinner for one. Bing Crosby croons in the background as you make small portions of your favorite holiday foods, and the sweet fragrance of a cinnamon-scented candle helps boost your mood even further. Gentle snow flurries whirl outside the window.
The afternoon passes by in peace, until you hit one little roadblock: you forgot the cranberries. You lean with your hip against the kitchen counter, tapping a rhythm on the tile with your nails while you debate your next move. Dinner without them isn’t a huge deal, really, you suppose you could do without them, but…there does happen to be a 24-hour grocery store that should still be open. And it’s only a few minutes drive…
Hey, what the hell. You’re rather partial to cranberries.
So you grudgingly slip your feet into your boots, and get bundled up in your winter coat. You jam a woolly hat on your head, sling your purse over your shoulder, and head out the door.
In less than ten you’re at the store. It’s swamped with other last-minute shoppers like yourself, all looking to buy that last ingredient they forgot, eager to return home to their families and friends. There’s a pang in your heart as you watch them mill about; maybe you were being too rash when you decided to spend Christmas Eve alone. Maybe you shouldn’t have let the stress of the season get to you.
God, you feel like the Grinch. Or worse — Ebenezer Scrooge.
You sigh as you pluck a can of cranberries from the shelf, and then unenthusiastically make your way to the checkout aisle. The line is long, clogged up as the overworked cashiers try their best to deal with the onslaught of antsy customers as best they can.
You’re so busy internally sympathizing with the employees (and also feeling guilty for adding to their burden by being there yourself), you almost don’t feel the light tap on your shoulder.
You turn on your heel in surprise, and experience a squirm of pleasure when you see who it is: Eddie Munson.
Eddie Munson, who you met about a year ago and liked immensely, but still somehow…failed to make something happen with.
It wasn’t for lack of trying! The two of you had met at a bar where his band had been playing a show; when it was over, he bought you a drink and you talked through the rest of the night, until the bartender all but kicked you out. He left you with his phone number and a kiss on the cheek. You wanted to find time for him, you really did, but it had been a busy year.
You played phone tag for months, always trying to set something up, but never managed to follow through. Life had a funny habit of getting in the way. Even when you two bumped into each other in person again — and it happened more than once — there never seemed to be a time when you were both free. The exception of course being last Halloween, when he was supposed to pick you up for a party, which you're sure would have been a blast...if his car hadn't broken down and derailed you yet again.
And then, when you got your promotion, your love life went on the back burner. Any prospects of going on a date with Eddie pretty much flew out the window.
But now here he is, in the flesh. And God, is he cute.
His hair is damp and a little disheveled, probably the result of snowflakes catching in the curls and melting. He’s not wearing a hat, but there’s a red knit scarf knotted around his neck, trailing down his big black overcoat.
“Hey, you,” he says, rosy cheeks dimpling as he gives you a huge smile.
“Hi,” you reply brightly, overwhelmed with sudden happiness. “Merry Christmas.”
“And you as well, sweetheart. Forgot the cranberries, I see,” he says, pointing at the lone can clutched in your gloved fingers.
“Guilty,” you shrug, unable to keep the silly grin off your face.
He laughs, and his chocolate-brown eyes crinkle at the corners. “Well, I can hardly tease you for that, now can I?” He fishes around in the plastic shopping basket hanging from the crook of his arm, and comes up with an identical can.
“Would you look at that? Great minds think alike. Or don’t think alike, I guess.”
“Truer words were never spoken.”
The two of you inch forward in the line.
“So, you got big plans this Christmas or what?” he asks, eyes twinkling.
“Actually, no,” you admit. “I’ll visit my family tomorrow, but for tonight it’s just me. I love the holidays, I do, but I just didn’t have it in me to go all-out this year.”
Eddie stops midstep. “You’re spending Christmas Eve alone?”
You shrug uncertainly, once again doubting your plans. “Yeah.”
He cocks his head to the side, playful smirk on his lips. “What a coincidence. So am I.” He shakes the grocery basket, contents rattling around inside. “S’why I came to get the goods. I’m fending for myself tonight.”
You’re a little taken aback by that. “Really? What about your uncle?”
“Wayne? Well, his, ah, lady friend invited him to her family dinner up near Indianapolis. They invited me to tag along, but I said no. Didn’t wanna impose.”
“Oh. I see.”
In a moment’s pause, some understanding passes between the two of you. Eddie busts out laughing again, and you don’t have to ask him what’s funny.
Giggling yourself now, you straighten up and look him square in the face. “Eddie,” you say, trying and failing to keep your tone serious, “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Eddie abandons his shopping basket. (You’ve no idea what he’d been planning on making, exactly; you glimpsed a package of hamburger helper and a jar of pickles, amongst other things.)
But he does insist on paying for your cranberries.
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