#not that im going to argue for plastic but like?
Note
booo nice PLASTIC fur you chump. get real fur and buy an actually quality product that wont shed plastic into everything
im vegan lol
#lilith answers#wtf is this lmao#not that im going to argue for plastic but like?#murder? lol?#carnists are weird hshssh#hot take killing animals for fashion is bad
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baby shoes
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.”
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!”
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine.
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
--
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.”
“oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room.
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.”
“oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
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ride it, then
cw: strap, smut, i think that’s it ? idk.
a/n: first one shot (i think ?) i haven’t written since like 2021 so uhh if it’s bad dw ill get better 😪 not rly proofread dnt kill me .
“please Paige get off your game im begging”, i whine to paige. she groans and rolls her eyes, “bro in a second, give me like- FUCK ICE GO LEFT” she cuts herself off, instead of trying to argue with her i climb back onto the bed, sighing harshly at my girlfriends dismissiveness.
im wearing shorts and a large shirt, one of paiges old hopkins tee shirts. as paige keeps yelling and getting frustrated with ice i decided to start to take of her shorts, underneath lacy white underwear. i slowly spread my legs to start rubbing my folds just to bother her. paige turns around to ask to grab her water but her mouth slowly gapes open, my whimpers inside ask i dip a finger inside myself. she stares watching me in awe.
“see something you like, paigey” i tease
“what the fuck do you think your doing, can’t wait ten minutes?” she spits
i shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows, rolling my eyes to the back of my head and i dip another finger inside myself.
“ice, give me a bit imma hop back on later”
she puts her headset down and shakes her head, “your such a slut, you know that?” she climbs onto the bed, “can’t even wait for me to get off, fuck such a needy whore”
she pats the edge of the bed where she sits, i pull my fingers out of me and crawl over. she holds up her two middle fingers, “suck” i do as im told putting her fingers in my mouth, slightly gagging as she shoves them deeper.
her big hands spreading my legs as she aggressively spits on my cunt, heat spreads throughout my body as she sticks one finger in.
she moves aggressively fast, occasionally flicking my clit just the way i need.
“paige, fuck, im so close im so close im so clo-“
right as i clench around her fingers she pulls out.
”what the fuck?” i ask, my mind still hazy from my attempted-orgasm
“you wanted to act like a slut, your gonna get treated like one.” she gets up off the bed reaching for the shoe box that hold the 8 inch purple dildo.
“on ur stomach, now” she spits
immediately my face is shoved in between our silk pillows as one hand hovers on my lower back while the other holds my hip while she slides the plastic dick in.
im whimpering at the contact after my failed orgasm not short of around 10 minutes ago.
“you like that, baby?” she coos
“yes, yes, oh yes!” i plead, im getting dizzy from how much pleasure im feeling
“you gonna come all over mommy’s cock?”
“please mommy, let me cum!” i cry out, so close to reaching my climax
paige pulls out.
i whine at the loss of contact, my eyes welling with tears at the second denied orgasm. she crawls to the top of the bed, laying down, stroking the plastic cock like it’s an extension of herself.
“you want to cum so bad, ride it, then”
my legs wobbly from the past denied orgasms im unsure if i can last enough to make myself cum.
i climb to paiges waist as her hands attach themselves to my hips. i ease onto the dick, tears streaming down my face as she goes so deep
“oh my god paige, your making me feel so good” her hands guiding my hips slowly as i bring onto her
“good job baby, doing so well”
i shift my weight to my heels, bouncing faster trying to chase my high on my own
“f-fuck paige, i can’t do it, please”
“use your words, ma. what do you want me to do for you?” she looks at me through hooded eyes, propping herself up on her hands
“please paige, fuck me”
she nods and flips us over, she pushes my thighs apart and starts grinding into me, rubbing my clit at a speed that makes me buzz with pleasure
the way she thrusts into me, pushing down on my stomach lightly
i screw my eyes shut, my stomach tensing up feeling the knot tighten
“you gonna cum, come on, let go for me baby”
just with those words alone she thrusts sloppier and harder, hitting my g-spot, it’s almost too much
“fuck pai- ohh, please im gonna come, im coming”
i release onto the plastic dick, she keeps thrusting just to let me ride out my high
after ive cooled down she places sloppy kisses down my body, “ugh, i love you so much baby”
“i love u more, p”
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Baby Blues
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, domestic!au
Warnings: gross tooth rotting fluff, dad!gyu mom!reader.
Length: ~500
Note: Drunk Goggles couple is back! for a moment! I'm in a bit of a slump and needed something easy and they're so near and dear to my heart. I saw a tiktok of a baby refusing to say dada and i couldn't let it go. threw in some speech development bc im annoying (babies use their lips to say M and B sounds and their tongues to say D which is a skill they develop later)
also GIRL DAD MINGYU SUPREMACY
read more here
“Say da-da.”
“Mama!”
“Your daughter hates me.” Mingyu huffs, head falling to the kitchen table with a thunk.
Hana delights in her fathers dramatics, squealing her joy while yogurt goes flying. Her chubby fists clap against the plastic table of her high chair and little legs kick out. Mingyu smiles through the pain, never able to truly be annoyed with his favorite person in the world.
Mingyu had been trying to get her to say dada for the better part of an hour. So far each request was either answered with "mama", bubble noises, or unintelligible baby gibberish. You'd simply watched the entire thing unfold from behind your coffee cup, smirking into the rim at Mingyu's desperation.
“Our daughter doesn’t hate you." You say, rolling your eyes. "She’s a baby.”
“No, she hates me. Watch. Say dada, Hana.”
Hana doesn’t pause before shrieking, “Mama!”
“See!” He argues, arms out towards the babbling baby like she's torturing him on purpose.
“She just loves her mama, don’t you Hana?” You coo at her, stroking the top of her head covered in wispy hair as you wipe the mess of drool and her breakfast away.
“Ggggh!”
“Daddy is silly, isn’t he?”
“Bfffff.” Hana spits, ungracefully wiggling in her seat.
Eyes wide, you agree with her ramblings. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“Hey! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Mingyu pouts.
“We would never!” You give Hana a cartoonish wink that sends her into a fit.
Returning to the sink with dirty dishes, you listen to your husband try desperately to get Hana to say the words he’s been begging to hear since she called you mama for the first time a week ago. Hana humors him, pure sunshine under Mingyu’s constant attention; giggling at his crestfallen face every time like its new.
Deciding to take mercy, you approach Hana’s chair and lift her into your arms. “Gyu watch this. Hana, where’s baba? Baba?” You ask, pointing one of her pudgy fists directly at Mingyu.
“Bah…Bah?”
“She—she said—I’m baba!” Mingyu repeats dumbstruck, staring at your smiling face. “LETS GO!” He whoops, rising to bolt around the kitchen. Jumping around the room like he won the lottery, fists punching the air in victory.
It’s the same way he reacted when he found the positive test waiting for him on the bathroom counter almost a year ago. Unfiltered, unadulterated joy. Except there were far more tears when he found out he was going to be a dad, a broken lamp, and a broken couch.
Now, he grins like a mad man, chest puffed in pride that his daughter finally recognized him. As if it was ever a question despite Hana being a spitting image of Mingyu except for her nose which clearly comes from your gene pool. How she screams when he gets home from work and immediately picks her up for smothering kisses like he’d been gone more than a couple hours. Or when you’re all curled up on the couch and she falls asleep on his chest, her mouth open wide as she snores just like the man holding her. And the times all the boys visit to coo over their niece, bribing her with funny faces and silly voices to let them carry her, but the only person she reaches her little arms for his Mingyu.
Hana is Mingyu’s mini me, attached to his hip since her first day. But she's already learning how to get the best of him, no doubt a skill she inherited from you.
You and your daughter cackle in unison as Mingyu sweeps you both into a bear hug, alternating kisses between your lips and Hana’s almost bald head.
“My girls,” he says with a squeeze, content seeping into his words.
“Mama!”
There's a sigh of resignation, and a nod of his head. “We’ll work on it.”
#svthub#kim mingyu#mingyu fics#mingyu drabbles#mingyu fluff#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#svt x reader#kim mingyu x reader#kim mingyu fluff#mingyu x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#dghe couple#🫡 highvern
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i crumble completely when you cry
ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! reader
summary: this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, but sometimes mistakes yield the best results
contains: proposal!! (for @/pityslash <33), kinda ooc soft bakugou but im blaming it on him getting a concussion, mentions of injury, lots of fluff hehe
word count: 1.8k words
masterlist
Katsuki awoke to a darkened room with white, tiled speckled ceiling cut into rectangles and an IV in his arm; you were sleeping in the plastic chair at his bedside, head leaning against the wall and your mouth slightly open. It was probably about two or three in the morning, judging by the dimmed light coming from the hospital hallway.
Fuck.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
He shifted around slightly under the thin sheets, grunting as he tried to move his (apparently broken) right arm to fit in the pocket of his hero costume. A sigh of relief pushed past his lips when he felt the little velvet box still stashed away, thankfully left untouched.
And god– fuck did his head hurt… but this wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.
You were still dressed up — makeup and all, heels sitting next to you on the floor, the pretty black satin dress he watched you show off before you both left for dinner: now bunched up in your lap between your palms as you slept.
You were definitely going to complain about the crook in your neck when you woke up from the way your head was angled against the wall. You should’ve just gone home and slept properly in bed: but he knew arguing with you would’ve been fruitless — you’d refuse to leave his side like you always did.
Katsuki let out a small huff as he stared back up at the darkened ceiling.
This was supposed to be your anniversary. He had it all planned out: flowers, dinner, taking a walk through the park near the apartment to get ice cream, proposing in the little ramada he’d gotten Hanta and Eijirou to decorate with fairy lights and flowers. His mother’s old engagement ring was what he’d nervously tucked away into his suit pocket earlier that evening; she’d given it to him the first time you met her — as if she just knew the outcome of your relationship.
And yet, not even halfway through dinner he’d gotten a call about a villain spiraling out of control.
He knew his apology was lacking when he pushed himself up from the table, telling you he’d be back as fast as he possibly could; and he could tell how disappointed you were at the fact he was leaving despite how you playfully urged him to hurry before you ate all the dessert without him.
He’d slipped the ring in his costume pocket thinking he would make it back in time for your walk in the park — but that went out the window the second he was caught off guard and blasted through an apartment building.
You shifted slightly, against your spot on the wall. Katsuki almost thought it was because he was thinking too loud.
Your eyes opened after a moment or two, and blinked once or twice at him before realizing his eyes were also open.
“You’re awake?” you asked groggily, scrubbing your eyes before pulling yourself up from the chair. “Let me go get the nurse–”
“S’fine,” he stopped you before you could get out the door, lifting his head off the pillow because he knew you would come over and scold him for it.
Shit he felt dizzy.
“Don’t move right now,” you chastised him — immediately abandoning your mission to rush back to his side and help him lay his head back down on the pillow. “Is that comfortable?”
“Yea,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Don’ get the nurse yet… I don’ really want more fuckin’ needles in my arm right now.”
“...fine.” You pressed your lips together, concealing the lecture he knew you wanted to spew: him never being careful when he promised he would be being main point among those you wanted to address — yet you pulled the hard, plastic chair you were sitting in up to the bed and leaned against the mattress.
“...do you feel dizzy?”
“Yeah.”
“You got a concussion from your fall,” you turned your head to look towards the side, and he couldn’t see your expression anymore in the dimmed light from the lamp next to his bedside. “You also broke your arm from landing on it.”
“You saw?”
“It was on the news.”
You sounded on the verge of tears. He needed to apologize. He’d ruined your night.
“M’sorry,” he let his left hand drift over to where yours was laying on the bed next to him, his fingers catching between your own — grabbing you out of your dazed attention — “M’sorry I ruined our night.”
“You didn’t ruin anything Katsuki,” you shook your head, but he could hear the little edge of pain in your voice. “It’s not your fault… I was just worried.”
“I did, though,” he continued. “Tonight was s’posed to be just us walkin’ through the park n’ getting ice cream.”
“You had it all planned out huh?” You finally faced him again, tired eyes and a small, sad smile on your lips.
“F’course I did, would y’expect anythin’ less from me?”
“Of course not,” you humored him, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before planting a kiss over a small scab and pressing your cheek against it — staring faraway, somewhere his mind could never find yours.
“Why didn’t you go home?” he rubbed his thumb against yours. “Could’ve changed and been comfortable.”
You let out a small huff — “I couldn’t just leave you here. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
“You didn’t have to worry about me, baby. Y’should’ve slept comfortably at home, come and seen me in the morning.”
You didn’t answer; instead, pressed another kiss against his knuckles before letting his hand come back down to the bed.
“If you saw what I did, you wouldn’t be saying that.” — was all you left it at — you tried to get up to get the nurse, but he didn’t let your hand go. “Katsuki–”
“Just let me be a lil’ longer,” he slurred, drowsily. “Come lay down with me.”
“Kats–”
“Please.”
“How could I–”
“Please.” He repeated, and you gave up to the pleading look in his eyes. “Can’t sleep properly without you there.”
He shifted himself over slightly, watching you hold your tongue once again with a little snort, before patting at the spot next to him. You climbed up slowly, carefully, trying to be as light as possible to not let the little hospital bed creak under both your weights — letting yourself melt next to him, your hand resting over his chest. You didn’t say anything, just nestled yourself into his shoulder with a yawn.
Something about the way you were positioned made it feel like you were hesitant to touch him — as he was as fragile as glass. Even with your fingers resting over his abdomen, he barely felt them there.
“What’s got your mind all worked up?” he asked after what felt like hours of silence.
“...nothing.”
“I know when yer overthinkin’ baby.”
You looked up to him, sad eyes and all. “I was really worried.” You sniffed, burrowing yourself back next to him. “I was just sitting in the restaurant finishing my food until I got a notification on my phone about the news — and I clicked it and saw the video of you being blasted through the building. There was so much debris, I almost thought–I don’t know what I thought… It felt like I couldn’t breathe or–or think… I just ran out of there as fast as I could so I could get to the hospital. And then, when you wake up, your first concern is that you ruined the night?” You huff, angrily and under your breath but you didn’t let him see it. “I can’t believe you sometimes…”
“M’sorry,” he repeated, this time drowsily— despite the disapproving click you let out in response, he wrapped his arm around you: rubbing small circles in your arm to soothe the tension you continued to let off. These situations were the only times you both switched roles; the only time he was the one who had to calm you down when usually it was the opposite.
“Stop saying that.”
“I am though,” he continued anyway. “For making you worry and cry when I should’ve been careful. I got a little reckless tryin’ to get back to you quickly. I just… didn’t wanna leave you stranded there.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” you almost scolded him. “I’m used to it, I understand what your job is like.”
“Told you though, I had it all planned out n’ shit — stupid bastard ruined it all…”
“It’s okay,” you pacified him. “It was just dinner, we can always go out another time.”
“It wasn’t just dinner though…” He stopped himself from continuing, but looking down at your furrowed brow knew that he’d have to give an explanation.
“We’ve talked about marriage before—” he started again after a moment of silence. A moment to catch his breath, to let his racing thoughts and heart subside slightly. “—about us staying together like this because we couldn’t really ever see ourselves with anyone else.”
You nodded.
“And I thought–I knew that we were both ready… So I was gonna propose.”
You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t dare look down at your face — not when he could feel the heat rushing up to his face like he was about to pass out.
“I uh, had this whole speech planned out n’ everything,” he stared at the ceiling once more. “Even had Ei n’ Hanta set up flowers and candles in the park near that cherry blossom tree we always picnic near.”
You still didn’t say anything.
“M’sorry for just bringing it up now, and spoiling the surprise ‘cause I could’ve just done it later…”
“...are you really apologizing for telling me that you were going to propose?” you spoke after a moment.
He could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he looked down to see that his suspicions were correct — you were crying.
“Don’ cry,” he tried to wipe them with fail because he could only use one arm. “You know I get sad when you cry.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know that this isn’t where you probably expected to get proposed to, but everything I said is true — I wanna spend the rest of my life with you n’ get those little moments with you. N’ honestly, as long as we have that, I don’t think it matters where this shit happens.” He shifted around slightly, before you could stop him: sitting up to properly face you and pulling a little velvet box out from his pocket. “Marry me?”
“Of course I will,” you tried to wipe away your tears before falling into his embrace — pausing after he let out a hissing sound. “I’m calling the nurse for real now.”
#keke.writes#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugo x reader#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#my hero academia fic#boku no hero x reader#katsuki x you#bakugou fluff#bakugou x y/n#bakugou imagine#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo oneshot#katsuki bakugou x female reader
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Hii! Could you do a smut of Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon please? I don't really have any specific things I want in it other than scissoring and all of them just all over each other lol
Sorry im in a mood-🤪
To Glide
Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon
Length: 2.000 words
Tags: lesbian sex, lesbian threesome, LOT'S OF LUBE, annoyed sex, fingering, clit play, scissoring, lesbian missionary, fold in half (Yuqi), pretty and submissive (Miyeon), has had fucking enough (Minnie)
(A/N: Here is a random drop to start of the new year lol. This is what happens when you send the right ideas to me. Have fun and stay healthy!)
“This is such a not-good-idea.”
Minnie sighs and pinches her forehead. To say that she has doubts about this new ‘project’ of Yuqi would be an understatement. She hates that this obnoxiously loud girl always pushes onward with her ideas without ever thinking of the consequences. Like last week, when she threw this party at Miyeon’s house—Minnie expected a handful of people—and suddenly hundreds of people turned up and trashed the whole thing. For some reason, Miyeon didn’t even care all that much.
Guess Yuqi’s tongue kept her busy all night, Minnie thinks, an envious blush on her cheeks. That’s the curse of Yuqi, she might at times be a bad friend, but in the end, she is just irresistible. In the end, Minnie can only blame herself for not rejecting Yuqi’s plans of filling a small pool with lube—in the middle of Minnie’s own living room.
Your house is the biggest, Yuqi argued, and with a few adorable blinks, she got what she wanted. And now Miyeon is already ready to dump in over ten bottles of lube into the small plastic construction, definitely not made to withstand whatever crazy games Yuqi will come up with. Minnie can still say no, still send them home, hell, they can have enough fun with each other in Yuqi’s—
“Aw, why not, Nicha?” Yuqi complains cutely and wraps a sly arm around Minnie’s waist. “It will be so much fun, don’t you think? I can’t see how it can go wrong.”
“It’ll be such a mess,” Minnie argues, but it’s fragile, because Yuqi’s magic goes beyond puppy eyes and that deadly voice: she is already fiddling with the buttons of Minnie’s jeans, easily able to pop them open and dig her hand onto Minnie’s sex. The thought alone arouses her. “I-I don’t want to clean up afterwards.”
“Then I will clean up, okay? Pinky promise?”
“O-okay.” Dammit, she couldn’t resist again. Minnie is just too weak for Yuqi.
“Perfect. Miyeon, pour in the lube! Let’s have some fun.”
“Okay, babe~” Miyeon shouts back and gleefully squeezes out bottle after bottle until the clear liquid has thoroughly covered the entire plastic surface. “Should we get our bikinis?”
“Nah, screw those. Bikinis are for public pools.” Yuqi starts to unzip her top and jumps out of her pants. “At home, with my girls, I don’t want to wear clothes!”
“Oh~” Miyeon coos and Minnie can see that horny glint in her eyes. “I love that! Let me get undressed too.”
Minnie looks at them for a second, their bodies being revealed piece by piece, bare and completely spotless. Yuqi is a perfectionist when it comes to her own nude body, but at the same time, she does not give a single fuck about other people’s short comings. She just loves nudity, and so Minnie isn’t the only one starring when Miyeon gracefully removes her tight crop-top and moves her hips in quick circles until her black shorts fall down.
“I see you came prepared,” Yuqi says in excitement, because of the lack of underwear on Miyeon’s stunning frame.
“I still have the bikini in my bag, but—
“I kinda knew you wouldn’t want to see it.”
A heat is rising up inside Minnie. No anger or annoyance can keep it down anymore; the arousal is too great, irresistible, like the sight of Miyeon and Yuqi flopping into the pool. The lube flies everywhere, most importantly on their legs, their chests, their hair, their bellies, their feet—Minnie does not notice the mess being made.
She is depraved and horny, the way she tears off her jeans and top is chaotic, unplanned. Minnie has become a mess by just looking at her friends. Luckily, Yuqi does not notice. She's too busy with Miyeon and getting her fingers all over the elder’s skin. That is until Minnie bursts in and disrupts them, putting real strain on the edges of the plastic pool.
“Hey, watch out,” both Yuqi and Miyeon laugh. “You’re about to break it.”
“I- I don’t care! You two are being too loud, I need to shut you up a bit.” Minnie’s rebuttal is weak, because Yuqi gets a hand on her hairy cunt and starts to rub all over it.
“Oh, you want to shut us up by destroying this pool? Makes sense, makes sense.” Miyeon giggles and adds. “I think our friend here is tripping a bit. Tell us, Mi~nnie~
“How do you want to make us shut up?”
Minnie has never felt this ferocious, it’s like the spirit of a savage, unchained animal has overcome her. She wraps her entire arm around Yuqi’s tiny waist and spins her around. The small woman is still laughing, but with two lube-drenched fingers straight into her tight cunt, she is now Minnie’s prisoner. A happy prisoner, who quietly moans and hums with every curl the digits in her pussy make.
“Oh my~” Miyeon gasps and intently watches on as Minnie squeezes Yuqi tightly and makes sure to never stop pumping into that wet cavern. Yuqi still thinks this is all fun and games and tries to kiss Minnie, but the Thai girl goes straight for Yuqi’s neck and marks it with a frantic bite.
“Mi-Minnie, what the—I never knew you liked—”
“How about you shut your pretty mouth up and get on all fours?
“Now.”
Yuqi twitches around Minnie’s fingers when she hears this command. After a bit of slipping and falling she finds herself in the suggested position with Minnie’s hand cupping her labia and slowly rubbing lube across it. Yuqi arches her back, eyes closed to intensely feel every touch on her folds, then inside her pussy when Minnie decides to penetrate her once more. Miyeon gasps again.
“How about you lay down too, pretty?” Minnies suggest to Miyeon who needs a few seconds to wake up from her slumber and lay down into the slippery mess. She instinctively opens up her beautiful legs when Minnie’s hand approaches her, then the girliest of moans leaves her lips when her cunt gets filled.
Minnie’s heart is pumping up to her head, knocking on her brain and she loses all her senses except for touch on her fingertips, which become drenched in arousal. Every thrust, it doesn’t matter if they are hard or soft, makes her greedy, as if this scenario wasn’t enough. She has everything a girl could ever want, but now she needs more.
Minnie needs Yuqi to ruin herself—which happens sooner than she could’ve ever dreamed of. Yuqi’s ass moves on its own, her hips slam backwards and swallow every inch of Minnie’s flicking fingers and when three of them finally pierce her pussy open, she cums. Face buried in ridiculous amounts of lube, Yuqi groans and trembles and falls over, eyes rolled into the back of her head—that’s what Minnie wanted. But her greed doesn’t stop.
She looks at Miyeon, her pout, her need for release in this slippery mess right in the middle of this living room—Yuqi will have to clean it meticulously afterwards, because Minnie plants her puffy pussy right on Miyeon’s and starts to wildly rub it over her. Minnie knows that Miyeon is quite familiar with scissoring, this is definitely no first for her, but she nonetheless reacts to it like a virgin. She desperately holds onto Minnie’s hip and through a voice broken by moans begs her to go slower.
“Should I really go slower?” Minnie teases when Miyeon starts to grab her waist and bite her lip. Her face is so eerily perfect with all the wet lube and sweat on it, the blush that isn’t faint but blunt and bright. “Don’t you want to cum with your pussy, pretty princess?”
And then Minnie just continues, her hips slam down, against those aroused folds. She also makes use of her hands, spreading lube all over Miyeon’s boobs, midriff, down to the hard nub that looks like it’s about to explode if just—
Someone would—
“Not there, not there, Mi-Minnie, I’m about to—”
Minnie plays with it, rubs the clit side to side and Miyeon bursts into a loud and wet orgasm that has the pool suddenly filled with lube and girl juice. Minnie still doesn’t stop, instead she squeezes out every last second of Miyeon’s high by squeezing her breasts and squeezing more lube over her feet, which Yuqi is already eagerly playing with, in trance at the taste of Miyeon’s soles.
“Gosh, she looks so hot,” Yuqi whispers at the sight of Miyeon, who cannot escape the overstimulation. There is just no grip on anything, it’s like the entire universe wants her to glide back to Minnie and her pervy hands. Hands that can’t stop groping her, covering her in so much lube, she feels too heavy to fight back.
“You’re one to talke,” Minnie responds and raises an eyebrow when Yuqi dares to look back at her. “She went down fairly easily, but I know I need more with you.”
Yuqi smirks and like the angelic devil on Minnie’s shoulder leans in and hums:
“Then give me more.”
It’s hard to tell if Yuqi regrets her witty remark or if this was the actual reaction she wanted. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself below Minnie, in the deepest mix of cum, sweat and lube she has ever been in. Minnie immediately goes for her limits, grabbing her ankles and folding her in half while looking absolutely unamused.
“I know you can fold like a lawn chair,” she snarks and Yuqi gasps when her heels are almost level with her eyes. “So you better keep this up, because I won’t stop.”
“Wha-what are you trying—?”
“You’ve never had it like this, huh?”
Minnie crashes her hairy cunt right on Yuqi’s perfect slit. The slap is loud, the sting is painful at first, but Yuqi gets no time to scream because Minnie just continues. She rides her fat lips all over Yuqi’s shaven crotch, spreads her arousal to add more wetness, to glide better.
Glide she does. Yuqi has to take deep breaths that quickly turn to moans every time Minnie glides over her clit. Back and forth is great, left and right is excellent, Yuqi’s mind starts to spin in the same rhythm that Minnie’s pussy spins. That is until she goes up and back down. That’s too much to handle. Yuqi’s nails dig into Minnie’s elbows and she can see the Thai girl only through tear filled orbs.
Hottest of all: Minnie shows no reaction to this athletic feat. She just leans down, lips right on Yuqi’s, but instead of kissing her, she spouts dumb, dirty bullshit that has Yuqi in an ultimate frenzy.
“You never had a girl take you missionary. I fucking know, because I always hear them moan, not you. You think you’re such a player, Yuqi, the girl that gets all the bitches—that’s over now. Now you’re my bitch and I will fuck you like it. You will cum on this hairy pussy and then I’ll make you clean it up.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yesh, Ma’am!”
Yuqi whines, Minnie smirks.
“Good. That was easy, didn’t know you could be so submissive. I think you should get an orgasm, slut.”
As predicted, the final thrust starts of Yuqi’s climax, one that lasts for a while. While not as messy as Miyeon’s, Minnie can see how intense it was for the smaller woman below her. Yuqi is a fucked mess, messy hair, messy pussy, messy face, something that can surely be a seat in the future—nah, fuck the future. Yuqi won’t always be her bitch, might as well—
“I think you’re learning your place.” Minnie gives Yuqi some time to adjust her posture, time Minnie spends on a quick look at Miyeon, who is busy stimulating her nipples to the sight of what happened in front of her. Minnie has no clue how and if to include her; an issue for later. “Now eat me.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#idol x idol smut#gidle smut#minnie smut#yuqi smut#miyeon smut
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Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉
May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢
Take your time! ❤️❤️
this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3
my 1k event!
—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—
“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?”
Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling.
“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.”
“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.”
“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.”
“It’s ‘you and I.’”
“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.”
Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all.
“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!”
“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair.
“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling.
In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research.
You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?”
“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality.
“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.”
He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches.
“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.”
“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.”
“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…”
“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.”
“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.
—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes
#nora hits 1k#veritas ratio x reader#dr ratio x reader#ratio x reader#dr. ratio x reader#hsr x reader#honkai x reader#honkai star rail x reader#veritas x reader#oh veritas my beautiful annoying obnoxious scholarly man
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hey, can i request a tom x puerto rican female reader? Kinda similar to the chola one but it's in new york instead of la🤭omgggg. It can be any era idm sjensjsj
AY, BENDITO ~ TOM K.
Tom Kaulitz x reader
In which a determined Tom won’t stop till you accept his offer to take you out.
Nattie speaks: Yayayaya!! Im excited to write this bc I literally love Puerto Ricans sm like y’all are real ones ong🙏. Keep the request coming in bc I def wanna start writing more on here!
YOU NEARLY GROANED AS you saw the boy approach, your friend, Daniela, giggled from beside you just watching in amusement. Nearly everyday, Tom Kaulitz managed to find you and ask you the same question.
“You free tonight?” His German accent so alluring yet you knew you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. Yes, you will admit that Tom was a very attractive boy, you liked him a lot, but you also knew the type of person he was. It seemed as though every girl you talked to had at least one interaction with the Kaulitz boy that ended in sex. “Come on, just one date and it’ll be worth it.”
You glared, turning back to the line and waiting for your lime flavored piragua, choosing to ignore him. You weren’t sure why he decided that picking you as the main victim of his pestering was good idea but each day it annoyed you more. There we’re even some where you nearly gave in and excepted his offer but ultimately walked away before the words could leave your mouth. Was the piragua guy purposely taking long to shave the ice or was it just you? The mix between the heat of New York and Tom’s blabbing in your ear made the tone feel slow.
“Enough!” You snapped, turning to face the boy who was listing off reasons as to why taking you to Señor Guzman’s pizza place would be the perfect first date for the two of you. “I already told you that I’m not interested in going out with you.”
You could hear your friend snickering beside you, “Ay bendito.” She was just observing and sipping the cool cherry flavored syrup from her cup. (Poor boy)
Tom only smirked, adjusting his hat and backing away with his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I hear you, I will come back tomorrow.”
You sighed heavily as he walked away, “Don’t come back at all!” You yelled, but he didn’t turn around or do anything to acknowledge your words, based on his past actions you knew he would be back.
“Aquí está.” The tan man gave you the piragua in a small plastic cup, the shaved ice soaked in a lime-flavored syrup. Your demeanor immediately changed, a frustrated scowl turning into a soft grin with just one sip. You dig through your shorts, handing some bills before walking off. (Here you go)
“At this point, it’d be better to accept his date then reject it, Amiga.” Daniela spoke up, giving you a knowing look as she shoved some of the ice in her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.
“No quiero, Dani, to give him the satisfaction of taking out another girl would be like hell to me.” You argued back, “He just doesn’t take a hint, and everyday he comes and bothers me about something.” (I don’t want to)
“If you really about it.” Daniela began making you roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that he really likes you and isn’t just playing around to get in your pants.”
You turned to her with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, it Tom fucking Kaulitz, of course he’s gon’ something involving.”
“When’s the last time you heard of him hooking up with someone?” Daniela asked, watching a a you shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly, and don’t you think that it’s strange how Tom is constantly flirting with you, only you.”
“I think it’s very strange, and annoying, ya me tiene esta los cielos, Dani.” You huffed, stopping as you arrived in front of her apartment building. (he has me up to the sky)
“Just take a moment and think, he totally got a thing for you because he’s putting in actual effort, not just shooting out some lame pick up lines.” Your friend tossed her cup into a nearby garbage bin before climbing up the steps. “He likes you, and I know you like him.”
You processed her words as you made it back to your own home, the refreshing snack cleared up your mind from its previous annoyed state. It made you frustrated, how could it be that a player was suddenly wanting to get with you of all people. For as long as you could remember, Tom would always flirt with you, it gave you a string of hope before he ended up in another girls room that same day. If the reason why you became so cold, more brutal with your rejections then before.
Walking into the house, your auntie and mom were in the kitchen, they could already sense the annoyance radiating off you. “Nena, que tú tiene?” Your auntie questioned, raising her thinly drawn eyebrow at you. “And don’t bullshit me.” (Girl, what is wrong?)
“María!” Your mother scolded towards her sister, “Don’t be using those groserías in front of my daughter.” You walked into the kitchen, jumping onto the counter as you watched your mother cut up some chicken. (Bad words)
“You know Tom K, el aleman te la esquina?” You began, getting the attention of both of the woman. (The German from the corner)
“El que tiene un hermano emo?” You auntie asked, placing a hand on her hip. (the one that has an emo brother?)
“Titi.” You warned as she threw her hands up in defense, “Bueno, pues, he’s been asking me out for the past five months.”
Your mother let out a dramatic gasp, stopping her motions and looking at you, “Cinco meses? Y qué carajo todavía haces aquí?” (five months? And what the hell are you still doing here?)
You groaned, throwing your head back, “No salir con el, mama, he’s a player, I’ve been sayin’ no each time.” Your tía grinned, clapping your hands. (I don’t want to go out with him)
“Mira, no mas!” She squealed, shaking your shoulders proudly, “Mi nenita ya tiene todo los hombres a sus pies.” (Well, well, my little girl already had all the men at her feet)
“Ay, no titi, no quiero salir con el, qué pasa si no mas me trata como otra.” You frowned, feeling your mom place a comforting hand on your shoulder. (I don’t want to go out with him, what happens if he just treats my like any other?)
“If he does anything.” She threateningly raised the knife that she was chopping up vegetables with. “You just come to me.”
“Mhmm.” You tía hummed in agreement, “Just gimme that address and you won’t have to worry about it.” Her serious face was then replaced by a bright smile. “Pero, you should totally go out with him.” (But)
“Dani was sayin something about how he might be interested since he’s been trying to hard, and just earlier when I was getting Piragua from Señor Rodríguez he came up to me.” The two woman listened intently, “He asked me out again and I said no, and when he said he’ll come back tomorrow I said he should never.”
The woman in front of you winced, “Ay, bendito.” They said in unison, making your frown even deeper. Maybe you were too harsh. (Poor boy)
“But since he’s so adamant on me, saying yes then he probably does have some interest. Well, that’s what Dani thinks.”
“Mira, nena.” Your tía placed her tan hands on your shoulders, “Back in my day, yo traía todos los hombres, tu mama era una virgencita.” (Listen, girl. I had all the men, your mom was a virgen)
“Ey!” Your mother slapped your tias arm angrily, making your scrunch your face up. “I was just waiting to find the right hombre.” (Man)
“Pero esperaste unos mil años.” The woman turned back to you, “As I was sayin’, no matter how much a man tried to be all playa’ by sleeping around with women and shit, the thing that’s gonna touch his heart is when a woman cares. So the next time he comes up to you and ask you out, you say yes when you go on your first date, show him that you’re interested.” (But you waited some thousand years)
You sighed heavily, “I’m nervous.”
“Why? Because you’ve been crushing on him since you were a kid?” Your mother questioned, tossing all the ingredients she’d been cutting up into a boiling pot of water. You eyes widened, mouth opening to say something before shutting itself up. “No crees que no te visto, te gusta, and I know it.” (Don’t think I haven’t seen you, you like him)
You hop of the counter and head into your room, you pick up the small phone that was sitting on your bed, clicking in Daniela’s phone number. In just a few rings the girl picked up with her usual chirpy voice. “Wassup, Amiga?”
“Dani, I’m gonna say yes the next time Tom asks me out.” You spit out quickly, not wasting a second to pause in between words. It was nearly inaudible but Dani still registered every syllable instantly.
“No way!” She squealed, “No me chingas amiga!” (Don’t fuck with me, bestie!)
“I’m bein’ for real.” You smiled slightly at her excitement, fiddling with the gold necklace nervously. “The next time he comes up to me, I’ll say yes.”
“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” You asked anxiously, eyes looking around to see if he’d magically pop up. The day had nearly reached an end, the sun beginning to lower itself into the horizon while you and Dani had walked around the area multiples times. By this time, Tom would’ve already walked up to you, gripping his baggy pants, a shit eating grin on his face, German-laced accent speaking the same words that you usually rejected, it almost became a routine.
But today you hadn’t seen him, it begun to make you nervous and ask the sun disappeared and the street lights flickered on, you sighed sadly. Never did you think you’d be so sad about not being pestered by Tom, in fact, you wished for a day like this. Now that you have it, you realize how boring the day has been, not hearing him or his corny pickup lines made it feel like a puzzle piece was missing.
“It’s okay.” Daniela rubbed a soothing hand up and down your back, “Maybe tomorrow, he could be busy with his band.”
“But he said he’d be back.” You frowned deeply, shoulders slumping, feet dragging on the pavement as you walked back home. You did the usual, dropped of Daniela first, her right hug lingering longer then usual before you walked the next few blocks to your own home. Just as you stepped on the steps that lead up to your front door a repetitive shuffle caught your attention.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Tom held flowers in one hand, the other one timidly waving at you. You’d never that you’d be so happy to see him, a smile would’ve taken over your features but you held back. Keeping a straight face as he held out the roses. “I got these..for you.”
Your eyes widened, taking the flowers and blushing. “Thank you, how’d you know these were my favorite?”
“You told me.” He smiled softly, it made your heart flutter and stomach twist into knots. “And, uh..I wanted to ask you, again, if you’d wanna go out with me?” He fiddled with the bands around his wrist, expecting the usual words of no and a slammed door in his face, but you have a warm smile instead.
“Yeah, I’m free on Friday.” You tried to hold the eye contact but his eyes practically hypnotized you, you stared down the roses, a shy smile on your lips. “I’m sorry for being mean on the past times.”
Tom chuckled, demeanor shifting from an laid back player to a timid lover boy who was stupidly excited that his crush finally said yes. “It’s okay gorgeous.”
An awkward beat of silence engulfed the air before you leaned forward, pecking his cheek and watching as the red blush creeped up onto his face. “I’ll see you Friday then.” You mumbled, hand gripping the door handle and pushing it open. You looked towards the boy one last time, “Bye Tom.”
“Bye, gorgeous.”
I hate using y/n if y’all couldn’t alr tell by the amount of pet-names I have in all my fics. 😭 I tried my best to capture the Puerto Rican culture but as someone who isn’t really familiar, I don’t really know if I did all that good. Apologies if there was some errors in some areas!! either way I enjoyed writing this fic and loved the idea!! Ik it got corny at the end but pls ignore that.
hehehe
#tokio hotel#tom kaulitz#tokio hotel imagine#2000s#puerto rican#puerto Rican reader#Tom Kaulitz x reader#Latina#boricua#tom kaulitz x you#tom Kaulitz imagine#fanfic#fluff#tom Kaulitz fic
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Roaring Sea
III. Borscht
⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆
⋆｡°✩ wc: 2.5k
⋆｡°✩warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, there is a few month time skip in between the last chapter and this one!!
⋆｡°✩ series masterlist
There’s no way this could’ve been going on for weeks. No, at this point, you could count the amount of time in months. Still, you think in denial, you couldn’t be doing this.
Most nights, you spent with Tartaglia. At first, it began in the bakery, and ended upstairs in your home much like the first time it happened. The two of you spent hours talking, laughing, and some nights, it would escalate into something more. But gradually, he began to just show up at the second-floor door to your apartment and forgot the formality of hanging out in your bakery before.
Like tonight.
Your back is facing away from the door when Tartaglia walks in, but you're too focused on rearranging your bookshelf to notice him.
He walks in quietly, immediately noticing that your attention is elsewhere. Carefully, he walks straight behind you and slowly puts his hands right over your shoulders, preparing to attack at any moment.
"You're noisier than you think,” You say to him without turning to face him.
Tartaglia chuckles and drops his hands. Caught in the act, he moves from behind you to stand next to you.
“I can be stealthy when I want to be,” He responds, looking at you in adoration.
“Mhm, sure,” You respond as you straighten a painting in front of you, “I’d like to see you successfully scare me.”
He smiles again, finding this a perfect opportunity to place his hand on the small of your back and push you enough to face him.
Swiftly, the man brings his lips to yours, kissing you softly. But the sweet moment ends as quick as it began as he pulls away from the grasp and walks to your kitchen.
“My mother made us her signature dish,” He says as he places a bag on the counter. He pulls out a plastic tub of a red—hued soup. He looks... weaker than normal. For how he usually is, his lack of energy and quick quips concern you. You follow him into your kitchen and watch him unpack it, and he begins to go over to the oven.
“Wait,” You grasp onto his sweater, “go sit down, I’ll heat up the food.”
He looks at you for a moment, slightly confused, “But—“
“Im not arguing about this. Go relax, you look tired,” You push him out of your kitchen and toward your tiny dining area. Tartaglia looks at you, slightly dejected, but you’re right. He physically looks tired, and though you’re not exactly lively after a day of work, you’re better off than he is.
He sits facing you, his back toward the windowsill overlooking the city. The man watches you heat up his mother’s gift, studying each movement you make down to the minute details.
“Tough day?” You look back at him for a moment, “You’re quieter than usual.”
He smiles softly as he sits back in the chair, “I’m just enjoying the relaxing environment.”
You giggle as you pour two cups of tea, promptly bringing one over to him. The soup begins to simmer, so you pour it into two bowls and bring it over to the table. You sit next to him and look at his face, a small cut resides on his cheekbone.
You brush over it with your thumb, looking at him with a face of worry.
“They’ve got you working under some foul conditions, don’t they?” You look in his eyes.
Tartaglia laughs softly at your choice of words, “Yeah, they do.”
A smile finds itself on your face and you let go of his cheek, deciding that it was time to dig into the soup. He’s brought it before, his mother always made enough servings for the two of you and additional leftovers. It’s delicious, something you could only hope to make.
In silence, the two of you enjoy the meal. The atmosphere is so serene, especially for how witty you can be and how… energetic Tartaglia can be. It’s domestic, almost too domestic for an unofficial relationship.
But here the two of you are, eating his mother’s food, after work, in a place where you often both sleep. It’s odd, and a relatively new experience for both of you, but neither of you can deny how comfortable it feels, how right it feels.
You sneakily admire him under the dim light of the dining room table, his slight eye-bags overshadowed by the expansion of freckles on his face. His bangs, though still short, were getting longer and looked tousled and out of place after a long day’s work.
He catches you looking at him, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. With a mouthful of soup, he flashes a soft, close-lipped smile your way, one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip backward.
You wait for him to finish his food, as you had finished yours almost immediately. And as soon as he does, he stands up as if on cue.
Tartaglia takes your bowl with his and places them in the sink, then looks over at your sitting form. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom as if to get you to follow him.
You smile and stand up in silence, following him over to your own bedroom.
“Go ahead and get comfortable, I need to get ready for bed,” You disappear into your bathroom, leaving him in your bedroom.
After making sure you were gone, and it was dark enough, Ajax begins to take off his work pants, leaving his sweater on, then sits on the side of the bed facing the window.
Patiently, like a dog, Ajax waits for you and looks out the window. He watches the moon rise over the mountains, he’d argue the view from your bedroom truly being one of the best in the city.
“This is how to be stealthy,” You whisper from behind Tartaglia, giggling as you put your chin on his shoulder and your arms around him. He jumps slightly, chuckling softly when he realizes you surprised him, somehow. The idea of his guard being let down is a foreign concept, to say the least.
You kiss his cheek and lay back in your bed, waiting for him to do the same.
“Early night tonight?” You look at him as he lays down and faces you.
“It doesn’t have to be,” He answers, a sly smirk appearing on his face.
A giggle creeps past your throat and you nudge him slightly. You get closer to him, and your lips find his in the darkness.
"Sleep," You demand softly once you pull away from his mouth. He sighs and lays back on the plush bed, bringing you close to his warmth.
His breathing slows to a tranquil rhythm, and once you know he's asleep, you let yourself rest as well.
You often thought about your dynamic with Tartaglia.
Usually, he’d spend the evening with you, which led to him spending the night. And the next morning, he’d be gone to work before you woke up. He’d always leave a note on your kitchen counter, which made you smile, but that was the extent of the morning-after communication.
Besides the abrupt leaving immediately after, the process seemed domestic. Even the notes, which became redundant, seemed a part of the comfortable routine to you after a certain point.
The domesticity was ruined by the fact that you were not, in fact, in a relationship with Tartaglia. And that began to bother you. At some blurred point, you didn’t know whether you still wanted to be all alone in your life, surrounded by your blooming business and your customers. And though you weren't necessarily bothered by whether the two of you were in a relationship in general, there wasn’t any conversation about what you could call the situation.
You couldn’t call it “friends with benefits,” because you both could agree that there was too much emotion involved. There was too much emotion while laughing and creating pastries past closing time, or in the way you gently would brush his hand when he stepped through your front door after a day without seeing him. There was too much emotion in the things you’d say to each other when only the moon and her stars could hear the two of you, and in the way he would kiss you and show his affection to you amid the night.
But no one else knew. Besides your home and your bakery, the two of you didn’t go anywhere, not for a stroll through the streets of the city, or to a shop, or even his home. You doubt Teucer even knew. It was like no one could see that you two were seeing each other almost every day.
Additionally, he would leave without a trace for a few days. After the third week of seeing him non-stop every evening, he didn’t show up for a week. And when he came back, he acted like it didn't even happen. When you asked, he quickly brushed it off as a work trip and kissed your cheek before brewing tea for you in your home kitchen.
You found it odd, beyond odd, and you began to believe he wanted to keep your whole situation with him a secret.
You’ll bring it up if you see him tonight, you think.
Your stream of thoughts stirs you awake, though you don’t feel the morning sun’s rays or the annoying noise of your way-too-early alarm clock. And you felt a strange, unfamiliar warmth surrounding you. And a weight on top of your arm. You quickly open your eyes to see–
Oh
Tartaglia.
This has to be the first time you’ve ever seen him in the morning, while in your home. You’re facing him, and within a pretty close proximity as well, and he seems to be still asleep. His breathing is calm, unlike his usual lively personality, and it’s honestly quite cute. You find yourself with a small smile on your face.
There is enough light to see his bare chest and his arm that’s draped over you, which is also an unusual sight for you to see. He must've taken off his sweater in the middle of the night, you surmise. You study his body, and your smile quickly fades. His body is covered in scars, big and small, some even reach to his arm. Much like the ones you initially discovered months ago, but so many more. There’s no way this happens by making toys, right? Maybe it’s his vision? Or he’s picking up extra commissions? But they’re so large and vast and there are so, so many of them.
“Good morning,” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” You respond in a whisper, subsiding the worriment of your thoughts to speak to him. His arm tightens around you, his hand going from a dangle over your hip to moving toward the small of your back. He pulls you even closer to him, in a way in which his warmth radiates onto you and you can smell his cologne.
“ Probably too early for you to be awake,” He mumbles in your hair, his early-morning voice sending deep vibrations against your head.
You bring your hand up to his cheek, cupping the soft skin and brushing your thumb back and forth amongst his freckles. He keens into your touch. After months of spending time together, you found that he was surprisingly touch-starved. He was certainly inexperienced in the things he did with you, you could immediately tell that the first time he kissed you. But you didn’t feel like you should ask him about why he seemed so desperate for touch.
“Tartaglia,” You whisper to him, the thoughts that woke you up coming back to the forefront of your mind, “Why do we never leave the bakery?”
He straightens up in your bed, his arm still wrapped around you.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“I mean we’ve spent almost every night together, but we never go out,” You answer timidly.
“Oh,” He responds, “I didn’t think you’d want that.”
Touche, you realize how your ideal future has flipped an almost complete 180. He would be right, if you were still yourself from months ago. He changed you, and that wasn’t something you’d like to admit.
“Do you want that?” You ask him, sensing uncertainty in his face and tone.
“I’ve thought about it, but I seriously didn’t think you did,” He responds as you brush a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. He looks you in the face, noticing how your lips curled into a slight frown, and how even with the moonlight reflecting on your face, your eyes seemed a bit dimmer than usual.
“I’ll tell you what,” He props himself up on the bed with his arm, “I have to work tonight, but tomorrow, I’ll take you out to the city. Like a real date.”
Your heart speeds up at his words. If you were to talk to the old you about this, she definitely would’ve bitch slapped you.
“Okay,” You take your hand off of his face, instead sitting up with him.
It was his turn to put a hand on your face and cup your cheek, as he uses his other arm to snake around your back and pull you over him. Your legs straddle over his, as he pulls you down with both of his hands and begins to pepper your face with kisses.
“I can’t wake you up too much,” He whispers against your lips, “You could still get a few hours of sleep.”
You kiss him back, a classic trick to shut him up. You continue, your hands finding themselves on his chest and in his hair, and you just bask in his short-lived presence. Though now, his presence in the future may not be so short-lived.
He turns you over on your back, before pulling away whilst still towering above you.
“I have to get ready to leave,” He says, leaving yet another kiss on your lips.
You don a fake pout and declare sarcastically, “Oh no.”
By now he’s off of your bed and quickly putting his sweater back on as he playfully nudges you in response to your sarcasm. By the time he’s fully dressed, you’re back to being all snug in your bed. He sits on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on, his spare hand caressing up and down your waist.
“Get some extra sleep, alright?” He turns and kisses you one last time before leaving your apartment. You can hear his steps move down the stairwell and the bakery door open and shut. This time, you have only good feelings in your gut, only good things filling your mind. And that is enough to lull you back to sleep.
⋆｡°✩a/n: happy valentine's day!!!! I plan to get the next chapter (my personal favorite) out this weekend! thank y'all so much for reading and interacting with my works so far! It means the world <3333
⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings @whatamidoing89
#childe x reader#childe#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#childe tartaglia ajax#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n#ajax x reader#childe tartagalia#genshin fluff#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#fatui x reader#genshin impact fatui#x reader#female reader#romance#fluff
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How do you respond to people who try to argue against various gender affirming surgeries with anorexic people wanting liposuction? I tried to point out that theres a lot of gender affirming surgeries for cis people who dont feel feminine/masculine enough, but my sister said that those people need therapy too. I feel that there's a difference between trans people and anorexic people but idk how to put it into words, im scared i accidentally made her more transphobic bc i didnt have arguments :(
Good question! It's important to question and critique our ideas of what separates "good, natural desires which should not be changed" from "bad, unnatural desires which should be changed," and I think sometimes trans people are too quick to reaffirm this binary in our attempts to defend transness.
I would say that the difference here is based in anxieties. Anorexia is born out of anxiety- which is to say, a persist concern over something that triggers strong emotional reactions and which you keep returning to over and over and over without resolution. Dysphoria can and does cause anxiety, but you can be dysphoric without having anxiety over it. You can have dysphoria, find relief, and be satisfied with your body, while there is never any satisfaction point with eating disorders. There is always a feeling of "not enough" because the desire to be skinnier is born out of anxiety over what it means to be fat & fatness' place in society (lesser value, moral weakness, medical abuse, etc.).
Like I said, dysphoria can and does cause anxiety. There are trans people who obsess over their bodies being too masculine/feminine because they are concerned with what it means for them to be too masculine/feminine: it means they aren't real, they are ugly, they're failure. And this is why its important for trans people to sit with our dysphoria and analyze it. If you are constantly worrying about your body being "real" enough, no amount of surgery or HRT will fix that (although it may fix many things).
Now, I am generally against any solution thats like "we should stop Those People from doing x because We know whats best for them!" because autonomy is a vital part of my beliefs, and I think that people rarely ever react well to being banned from doing something Because Mother Knows Best. The real goal with, say, EDs, is to get rid of the artificial desire for thinness by combating fatphobia (ah, if only all the anti-ED campaigns out there did this). The same with plastic surgery: I would much rather we focus on dismantling the system that makes people (esp. perceived women) feel they need to make their bodies fulfill the beauty standard, than saying that plastic surgery is Evil and we should stop anyone from ever getting it, because those little people aren't capable of using their basic right to bodily autonomy correctly. When we ban something, what we really want is to change people's desires. But that requires cultural change, and laws don't create cultural change out of thin air. Its like how yelling at your kids doesn't make them more honest or better people, it just makes them better liars.
Given that trans people exist in every society, potentially going back to the Stone Age, even after we unwork systemic misogyny & homophobia, trans people are still gonna want surgeries. So we should just work on combating those things instead of trying to control people's bodies.
#m.#ask box#ed tw#anorexia tw#also unrelated but smth smth the way that link calls the presumed AMAB person trans#but the presumed AFAB person buried as a man is just. a woman who was likely a warrior. okay
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You end up with an unexpected 4th baby after a round of super angry fucking with Noah. No one is upset by that and you don’t remember what the fight was about when you got done.
YOU KNOW IM A SUCKER FOR PREGNANCY FICS! I have NO SHAME in saying it with my chest !
“Noah, we need to talk” you close your bedroom door and lean against it. You left Keaton, Eden and Rein in the living room with a Disney movie on so you’d be able to speak to Noah
“Yeah what’s up?” He lets his phone fall on to the bed giving you his attention
“Do you remember the other week when the kids were at my parents place for the weekend and we went out?” You a start “then we went to dinner and came back and something started An argument-“
“And we got into an argument, come back home and we fucked it out yeah?”
“Well….looks like we may have an answer to that event” you said handing him a plastic stick “I’m pregnant.”
He just stares at the test for a second “…..so….number 4?”
“Noah even if we were arguing we should have been more careful! I mean….im not disappointed by it, but still” he stands up form the bed and comes over to you
“What were we arguing about again?” He asked you trying to recalled the events
“You know the…the thing! You were upset….or I was…ugh I don’t even remember” you giggle as you rub the side of your face, Noah chuckles and pulls you in resting his head on top of yours
"See, so it wasn't even that serious"
"Well now it is! Baby #4..."
"....well I do remember saying I was gonna fill you-"
"Oh my god,"
"What? I did what I said I was going to do!"
#bad omens#noah sebastian#star’s anons✨#bad omens cult#noahsebastian#badomens#bad omens band#noah sebastian x reader
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01- Lover
pairing- Spencer Reid x Male!reader
summary- slow burn story of how spencer reid fell in love with Y/n L/n
warnings- profanities, some arguing, lemme know if theres anything else!
wc- 2k
a/n- Guys!! im so excited about this idea, orginally it was going to be short blurbs for each time all in one fic but i got carried away and its turned into a series now. And i know im still a little behind on Flufftober ficus but i needed to take a break from writing things to fit a prompt, i was feeling kinda creatively burnt out from it so i just wanted to write something off the top of my head and the song came on my headphones and then i blacked out and here we are lmao, hope you like it! (P.S. so much credit to @avis-writeshq for the inspo around some of it , totally a great writer and you should totally go check them out!)
Notes: (E/C) = Eye color | (H/T) = hair type (curly, wavy, thick, thin etc.)
part 1//part 2
spencer stepped onto the same train he took every morning; the green line for 5 stops, and the red line for 1 after that. Spencer prefers his first leg of the journey though- but thats only because of The Boy. Who’s The Boy, you ask? Well, The Boy is a man on the train, and this man on the train spencer had seen everyday for last 6 months. everyday, 1 stop after spencer gets on The Boy would get on. He would sit in the same seat near the back, put his olive green backpack between his legs, and put his headphones in his ears. he would sit, one leg crossed over the other and read anything from Poe to Austen.
Spencer always stared, now to be fair The Boy was very naturally handsome. He had striking (E/C) eyes, and (H/T) hair. His style often resembled spencers, slacks and button ups with cardigans and sweater vests, The Boy tended to lean towards more bright colors ad fun patterns then spencer.
Today, spencer noticed he had started a new book; A Collected Works of Edgar Allen Poe. Yesterday he had been reading a book on the history of witch craft, spencer thought it went well with the the witch hats and black cats on his knitted sweater, very fitting for October he may add.
And once again spencer was staring (nothing out of the ordinary) but today The Boy looked up at just the right time and caught spencer in the act. He immediately looked down, blushing profusely. But if he had looked back for another second spencer wouldve seen The boys sly smirk, and the slight tinge of warmth on his cheeks. Spencer decided the best possible course of action was to pretend nothing had happened and bury his silent admiration of the mystery boy on the train. But that plan was thrown completely out the window when The mystery boy got up from his seat, picked up his bag and plopped down next to spencer in an open plastic seat. Because little did spencer know but The Boy had done his own fair share of staring at spencer from afar, admiring his natural beauty and book choice. He had been toying with the notion of finally approaching this mystery man, and this was the final push he needed to approach spencer.
“so, you like Poes works?”
spencer looked up to find The Boy looking at him expectedly with a friendly smile. The same boy he had fantasized over for almost 6 months but never even thought of approaching, had just walked up to him and started a conversation.
spencers mind was reeling, to say the least.
but he still managed to squeak out “Yes, he’s one of my favorites” But add in a dash of stuttering and blushing. What can i say? It was an awkward interaction for and awkward guy. But this didnt deter The Boy, who then lit up at spencers words (which also caught spencer off guard and left him reeling for a moment) and said “Me too! but my favorite has to be ‘Annabel Lee’, everyone thinks its the documentation of a man going insane over his obsession with a girl named Annabel Lee. But i personally think its just a guy who’s madly in love, and people are a little jealous of the pure, intense type of love that Poe was writing about..” The boy looked down and blushed, trailing off. spencer looked at him confused and with a surge of confidence said “what-?” with confusion. The boy looked back up, almost surprised at spencers words, at spencers encouragement. This said encouragement gave him the confidence needed to say “im sorry, i realized i was rambling to a stranger on the train and i didnt even introduce myself; Im dr. Y/n L/n, whats your name? Spencer chuckled to himself at how who he now knew as Y/n, managed to say so many words in so little time. “I also have a habit of talking too fast when im nervous, sorry about that” Y/n added, taking care to speak at a slower pace. Spencer didnt mind it and was mostly focused on the fact that Y/n was nervous, did spencer make Y/n nervous? but he wasnt caught up in his thoughts for too long and remembered to respond to Y/ns question “its okay, i ramble a lot too, i dont mind. And im spencer. Dr. Spencer reid-“ spencer cut himself off to finally look at y/n before continuing- “but im not a medical doctor, I have doctorates in Math, Chemistry and Engineering.”
Y/n had an almost proud smile on his face, And said “wow, smart cookie!” his tone was joking of course but spencer still blushed profusely, despite his many attempts to stop it. Y/n continued, not noticing spencers flushed state, much to spencer’s relief. “Im not a medical doctor either though, i have PHDs in both math and physics. I always thought i was above average, but ive been outdone!” Y/ns tone was joking as he said it.
They continued their introductory conversation for another couple minutes when Spencer, in an effort to keep the conversation going, had asked what Y/n was listening to.
“im listening to Ours, by taylor swift, and im not a swiftie, im a taylor swift enjoyer.” Y/n said with a definitive tone. But spencer only looked at Y/n with confusion written across his features. “Whats a- swiftie…?” spencer asked. Y/ns faced seemed to almost drain of color at this statement. “Whats a swiftie?!” his tone was incredulous, as if spencer had committed some heinous act, which he was pretty sure he hadn’t. “swifties are people who thoroughly enjoy the music of none other than the greatest pop musician of all time!” spencer was a little embarrassed, he didnt want to miss out on something Y/n enjoyed so he held his hand out and asked, “maybe i could listen to it with you, and learn about her music?” Y/n grinned at the idea, and handed spencer one of his airpods and restarted the song.
and so for the rest of their train ride, they listened Y/n’s taylor swift playlist. But After hearing Ours, it remained his favorite.
And so, for the next few weeks it continued on like this. Y/n would get on the train at spencers first stop, and B-line straight to the back of the train where spencer had saved a seat for him. And then they would sit and talk, about anything from literature, to art, to science. But one thing always remained; Taylor Swift. Everyday Y/n would have a new collection of song for him to listen to on his airpods as they talked. But Ours still remained his ever favorite, although Cardigan and Willow were close seconds.
Today, however, was different. Today, after much encouragement and much teasing, spencer was going to ask Y/n out. His team couldnt deal with anymore gushing about Y/n, the guy from the train.
spencer waited impatiently for Y/n to step onto the train at his stop. He almost missed and almost ran into at least 2 people on the way to his seat. Y/n plopped down into his seat breathlessly and started his normal routine of pulling out his airpods and queuing up the music. But he was stopped in his tracks, the airpod he was about to offer to spencer, when the latter blurted out “Hey would you maybe wanna go get coffee with me on Saturday afternoon at perfectos?” Spencer had spoken so fast Y/n barely caught it. But he was amazed at spencers attention to detail. Y/n had never even told him he liked perfectos cafe (he was of the firm belief that they made the best coffee in DC). He had just walked in with a cup of coffee from them almost everyday. It made his heart swell at the gesture, and his cheeks redden at spencers question.
that reminded Y/n to answer, instead of just sitting there wide eyed like a deer in headlights. And said; “i’d love that spencer, thank you”
spencer had been so caught up in his thoughts, and worries over the words that had just spilled from his lips moments ago that he was caught off guard at Y/n’s positive response. They both beefed at each other like children for the rest of the ride until Y/n got off, and not even when spencer arrived for work could he wipe the smile off his face, much to the delight of Morgan and JJ.
To Be Continued…
#bau#criminal minds#bau team#spencer reid#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid series#cute#fluff#series#train ride#meet cute#taylor swift#swiftie#ours by taylor swift
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OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART TWO (EP9-17)
nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader
everyone thinks ji changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.
▷ genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, crying lol, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, kissing!, ji changmin dancing (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, im literally writing abt people who dance like gods but im a plebian w two left feet i have no idea what im looking at except for hips—, pining haha...ha (more subtle until the end), he's in a bathrobe near the end sorry children
▷ PART TWO WC. 17.6k
love in unity series m.list / otr part one
a/n: if u haven't read part one GO AWAY GO READ PART ONE ??? WHAT'RE U DOING HERE
EPISODE NINE: OFF THE AIR
IT was common knowledge that the week before finals week was referred to as the dreaded Dead Week. Campus was barren, coffee shops and libraries were packed, and almost everybody lived in some variation of sweats, hoodies, and eye bags. You were actually holed up in the research lab (yes, again) because your deadline to get this paper to your graduation advisor was literally looming over your shoulder, and though you were practically done, you were too paranoid of not catching some dumb typo before you turned it in.
Plus, the coffee in the lab break room was free and sponsored by your resident graduate student supervisor, and beloved older brother figure, Qian Kun. God rest his workaholic soul and empty pockets.
There weren't many people here this afternoon; most had retreated to their own homes or offices or wherever they dwelled during the Week of the Dead.
Then there was Ten.
"So do you guys just wither away here by yourselves?" Amongst the empty workbenches, his words seemed to unnecessarily resonate. From his perch in Kun's office, he spread his arms wide to gesture to all the empty space.
Kun pressed his fingers to the space between his eyes. "Yes, now let me wither in peace."
"No, I don't think I will."
You felt yourself smile. Ten had come in a few hours ago with lunch for both you and Kun. Supposedly, when he had heard that the two of you habitually ran on only coffee and dreams during Dead Week, he took it upon himself to swing by the nearest fast food restaurant and pick up a very belated lunch for you both. You’d chomped down on it with Kun in his office, but as soon as you were done, you retreated back to your desk.
The sky outside of the research laboratory was already beginning to bruise to a gray-blue-purple, the color of a dusty blueberry. Soon, you would have to surrender yourself to the night and head back home, but hopefully before that, you would decide that you were at least too tired to continue staring at these same seventeen pages for hours on end…
All three heads perked up at the sound of the laboratory building door opening and closing in the distance. None of you were exactly expecting anyone, especially when people usually indicated when they would come into work. You craned your neck from your workbench to see who had come in—
“I’ll only be a minute,” you heard and recognized your colleague Jacob Bae as he strode in from the outside corridor and into the main laboratory floor.
He met your eyes and smiled. “Hey, Yn.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
He let out a sigh as he jogged past your desk and headed toward a cupboard in the back corner. “I forgot that I left my—” His voice cut out as he ducked into the dark cupboard and withdrew a giant plastic tub. From the plastic innards filled with paper, he fished out a specific packet of paper shoved into a flimsy manila folder. “Forgot my thesis draft.”
You coughed out a laugh. “Dude.”
His grin was innocent and boyish, standard Jacob. “What? A guy’s gonna forget some things sometimes.”
“Is that what you tell your girlfriend?”
He sent you an unimpressed look. “Ha ha, Yn. Very funny. For your information, she’s more forgetful than me sometimes.” He stuck his tongue out at you as he passed by your workbench, and you, as the very mature person you were, stuck your tongue out back at him. It was only fair.
A cough sounded out from the entrance to the laboratory, and you turned your head to find Changmin, out of all people, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Peering out from behind the corner of the wall, however, was his friend Sunwoo from that other night. And yanking Sunwoo back behind the wall was Chanhee. Strange.
Someone (you suspected Chanhee) gave Changmin a firm shove into the laboratory, sending the latter stumbling in before he caught himself and regained his balance. He was swaddled in a dark colored puffer jacket and a red scarf, his red-tipped nose and cheeks bitten by the cold. For the first time, he looked smaller than he was, almost shy or nervous. You hadn’t encountered this Changmin in a long time.
He wasn’t one to look vulnerable out in the open like this.
As Jacob passed by Changmin, he clasped his shoulder in reassurance.
“Hi,” Changmin said slowly as he approached your workbench.
You were still a little dumbfounded that he was here again. “Uh, hi. What’re you doing here?” The argument the two of you had earlier in the week replayed in your mind, and you almost grimaced. You’d both said even more hurtful things, and you supposed you had just been so sensitive that your brain just automatically went into defense mode to protect yourself.
No, you hadn’t been there that night for him. You hadn’t expected to see anyone there at that time of night. That was the whole point of you going so late. You had been trying to get yourself to go into the practice room on your own, but the longer you had stood there, staring at the door, the more you realized you couldn’t do it. It still didn’t sit well with you, how affected you were by your mother’s past words.
Changmin kept his distance, but he came close enough that you could hear what he was trying to say without the others listening in too much. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
You blinked. “Talk? Like right now?” Your eyes darted to your computer screen and the practically finished paper displayed. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep working on it, but your heart beat startled at the sudden thought of having that very important conversation right now, when you weren’t ready.
He caught onto your movements though. “No, no—I mean,” he stammered, recovering with a quick swipe of his tongue over his lip, “just whenever. It doesn’t have to be now. I just figured it’d be best to get that… out in the air, you know?” I think it’s what we’ve been needing all this time. Something proper; no more yelling matches.
For a second, you thought you could see some of the old Changmin in this one. It wasn’t like he had changed, per se, it was more like he was finally showing that part of himself that you had been missing all along. You swallowed, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll, uhm, text you sometime tonight after I turn this paper in.”
He nodded back at you. “Yeah, cool.”
When you saw him begin to back away, a thought suddenly occurred to you. You called out to him to get him to stop, and you could have sworn that there was a gleam in his eyes then. “Changmin—about Sumin…” You inhaled deeply as you fought for the right words to express your next thoughts, “be gentle with her, okay?”
Even then there was a pang in your heart as you uttered those words. Sumin had texted you all about her interaction with Changmin a day or so ago regarding his “interview”, and she had been gushing about her crush on him. She had even asked you how much you knew about him and if you could give her a crash course in all things dance or even Changmin. Suffice to say, you felt trapped between a rock and hard place, but you didn’t want to let her down. (You’d always wanted to be a big sister; you didn’t want to push her away because of feelings that you were too petty to address.)
Changmin’s head tilted to the side as he made a confused face. “Huh?”
You sighed, “You seriously didn’t notice?”
“No, actually,” he quipped.
You pursed your lips; why weren’t you surprised? It wouldn’t be very cool of you to reveal Sumin’s crush on him if that wasn’t what she wanted. You would have to be subtle, but also not subtle, then. “Just—” you made a vague gesture with your hands, “—don’t be brash.”
“Brash?”
“Don’t be mean,” you amended.
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You thought even Ten rolled his eyes from where he was in Kun’s office. “You’re hopeless, really.”
Changmin’s face pinched, and he was moving back closer to your workbench. “I’ll have you know that we’re both hopeless.”
You deadpanned. “Now I’m pretty sure we’re not even in the same ballpark,” you muttered in exasperation. “Whatever. Your friends are waiting for you, Changmin.”
His lips pressed into a line. He glanced quickly over his shoulder where his friends were pretending to not be eavesdropping, then looked back at you. “Okay, yeah. Just don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” you promised.
EPISODE TEN: OFF THE MARKET
CHANGMIN glanced up at the entrance to the coffee shop, matching the sign in the window to the one he had searched up on his GPS app. It seemed to match from what he saw.
Today was the Friday of Dead Week, a handful of days after he dipped out of his interview with Sumin and confronted you at the laboratory. He had consulted Chanhee that day, regarding his mess of feelings about the situation with you, and Chanhee had practically forced him to go with him and Jacob to the laboratory. (Sunwoo just happened to tag along because he, apparently, felt left out.) Changmin wondered how Chanhee could have possibly known that you would be there, but Chanhee dismissed his worries by assuring him that after he asked you, he would feel a lot better and less like a hot pile of shit.
Chanhee was right, as per usual. Not that Changmin was going to admit that aloud to him ever.
But today was important because of two things in particular, and they both had to do with things that occurred several days ago. The first item on the agenda was going into this cafe to finish up that un-started interview with Sumin. After he had given her his number that day, she was swift to send a greeting text to him to set up a time and place to meet. Changmin actually had yet to visit this coffee shop in particular, but then again, he was a bit partial to the one Jacob introduced to the group last quarter.
Your words of advice, or caution, rang in his ears like the bell that twinkled above the door as he walked into the building. Be gentle with her. Don’t be brash. Don’t be mean. What did all of that even mean? He liked being interviewed, especially when it was about dance, so why would you think he would be anything but well-behaved? Part of him thought it was based off of the two of your interactions for the past three years, but he knew you had the good sense to know he didn’t treat just anyone like he treated you.
The thought remained fresh in his mind even as he scanned the room for a familiar face.
Sumin was seated in a secluded booth in the corner of the coffee shop. When she saw him, she waved him over excitedly, slipping her compact into her purse. Her laptop was left on the table in front of her, but unopened. Huh, maybe she just got here, too.
Changmin slid into the booth across from her. “Hi, sorry, were you waiting long?” He asked as he shouldered his jacket off and set his bag on top of it.
Sumin perked up a little bit. “Oh, no! Don’t worry. Did you have a good week?”
“Ah, as good as the week before finals can be, I suppose,” he chuckled, leaning back against the booth seat. His eyes darted to the unopened laptop still in the middle of the table and he cupped the back of his neck. “Did you wanna order anything to drink? Or have you ordered already?”
She shook her head, her hand reaching up to fidget with the end of one of her curled locks of hair. “Hm? No, I didn’t order yet! I was waiting for you so we could order something together—I mean, at the same time.”
“Cool, yeah,” he cleared his throat, signaling for one of the workers’ attention with a wave of his hand. “We can order and then get started.”
“Ah, ha, right.”
Once orders were taken, Sumin finally cracked open her laptop and got a couple things set up. Changmin patiently waited for her to get all settled, his eyes wandering about the shop and absentmindedly observing the workers behind the counter as they bustled about to prepare drinks and pastries.
Sumin coughed, “Okay, I figured that recording is a little unnecessary, so I’ll just be jotting some notes down on my laptop.”
Changmin bobbed his head. “Sounds good.”
She shifted in her seat, her posture straightening, as she figured out how exactly to start. “I hope you’ll be patient with me since I haven’t been doing this for a long time, but Yn gave me some pointers to start with,” she said sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“No problem! I totally understand; take your time.” He cocked his head to the side unconsciously, “Yn didn’t offer to sit in for your interviews?”
“Oh! Uh, she did, but I insisted that I was feeling confident enough to do them on my own,” she laughed lightly. “Definitely a bit nerve-wracking, but I think the interviews with Juyeon and a few of the other dancers went well earlier in the week.”
“Hey, I mean, I admire your courage,” he said with what he hoped was an encouraging enough smile. “Just take your time with it, Sumin. We’ll make sure to get you all the info you need.” There. Was that what you meant by not being mean? Wasn’t this just being considerate, though?
His foot tapped against the ground absentmindedly as he thought about the next thing on his agenda after this interview: talking to you. It was weird, having to almost set an appointment to have this very needed talk, but as you had said, you texted him your availability and the two of you just happened to both have this evening free. He just needed to finish this interview… There was still plenty of time.
His words to Sumin seemed to make her shoulders relax a little bit, and she jumped right into her first question. Changmin would answer as thoughtfully as could, which wasn’t too difficult seeing as he was literally talking about one of the things he was most passionate about in this world. He could probably talk about dance and his love for dance for days on end. Sumin, in turn, would skillfully and naturally continue the conversation so it felt a lot less like an interview, and more like an interaction between friends about dance.
Perhaps he didn’t even realize when the questions became less about his experience about dance and more about him; when Sumin gradually stopped typing notes down on her laptop and instead leaned her chin onto her hands to watch him; or when she suddenly asked—
“Is that your ideal first date then?”
Record scratch.
The words on Changmin’s tongue died instantly, and his brain scrambled to process what she had just said. “Sorry?”
Sumin’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing. “I—I mean, you were talking about going to see live dance shows with your former partner and I just…” She shook her head with an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, was that too forward?”
Changmin blinked once, twice; dear god, he must have been running his mouth without even realizing. “I was talking about Yn?”
That ripped Sumin right out of embarrassment—well, it was closer to mortification. The color on her cheeks had turned pale. “Yn is your ex?”
Fuck— “No, no, no! She’s not. She’s definitely not—”
Sumin covered her face with both of her palms in distress, a sentiment that was definitely shared between both parties in the booth. “Oh my god, and I’ve been telling her all about my crush on you, too. I must have looked so stupid.”
His eyes flew open. “Huh?!”
“Please, I’ve been so obvious, Changmin!”
Not to me, he thought. Jesus, was he really so blind? Was this what you meant this whole time? Changmin waved his hands around in an X formation, trying to reign the conversation into some level of sanity. “Sumin, I can assure you, that you definitely weren’t obvious until you literally just said it,” he began. “And so we’re clear, Yn is not my ex-girlfriend. She was my ex-dance partner and friend, but not a significant other.” As much as it sucked to admit that—
Sumin slowly lowered her hands from her face with the light reflected in her eyes wobbling. “Oh… okay, I guess that makes sense then.”
Changmin let out a haggard sigh, holding his hand to his head. “Yeah, well… I guess I should say that I’m sorry, but I don’t really share the same feelings for you?” He shook his head to himself, trying to rephrase: “What I mean is that I’m not exactly looking for a relationship. I’m kind of messed up right now.” Understatement of the century.
She pursed her lips, but nodded. “I get that. Thanks for being so cool about it.”
“Least I can do,” he said, clasping his hands together over the table.
“So,” she drawled with a wince, “I take it this interview is over?”
He brushed a hand through his hair. “If you have everything you need and there are no hard feelings?”
She inclined her head in the affirmative, and that was that.
— ✶
Even on a Friday evening, if it was the week before an exam season, the library study rooms were always packed, one occupier after the other. Attempting to score one was the equivalent of launching a stakeout, complete with charging cables, two cups of coffee, and a will of steel (to wait hours for a room to open up). Someone must have been looking out for you though as you managed to snatch a study room as soon as you arrived on the second floor of one of the main student libraries on campus. When you and Changmin had exchanged an, albeit brief, bit of texts, you both agreed that meeting somewhere that could serve as common ground would be good for the both of you. It had to be semi-private, as well, since neither of you wanted to let anyone else in on your private, personal problems.
The library study rooms were your solution, and maybe this was the universe’s sign that this discussion needed to happen.
As soon as the door closed gently behind you, you set yourself up in one of the chairs around the small, rectangular table at the center of the room. Changmin said he would be a couple minutes late because the bus had been late to pick up his stop and Chanhee was borrowing his car, so you texted him to let him know which room you were in.
While you waited, you attempted to ease your mind by scrolling through social media and flipping through emails and returning to social media, and wait, did you ever get a reply back from that one TA? All the while, your knee would bounce up and down ceaselessly, your fingers shaking and cold and numb. You were perhaps seconds away from your throat closing in on itself again, but then the door opened.
Changmin murmured a “hey” to you as he closed the door behind him and lowered himself into the seat across from you.
The room was quiet. “Hey,” you said back, clearing your throat.
You watched as his nostrils flared slightly as he exhaled. “What did you mean by ‘when did I stop caring’?”
You were a little startled that he decided to start right away, but on the other hand, relieved that he did. You wouldn’t have known how to begin anyway. “When did you stop caring?” You parroted in case you hadn’t heard him right. If you weren’t mistaken, he was referring to what you had said that night in front of the practice rooms.
He gave a nod. “Yeah, I was thinking about what you said…” He scratched his jaw, continuing lowly, “...y’know, on the bus ride over here. And I just don’t understand where in the world you got the idea that I ever stopped caring about you.” He met your eyes then, and you could see the tightness in his jaw, but the gleam in his irises.
This wasn't about being right anymore; it was about making things right.
"You—" you grappled for words, finding yourself pinned down by Changmin's relentlessly piercing gaze, "—I just got so much radio silence from you."
"You were giving me the same excuses."
"Because it was the same, exact problem," you fired back. "And, okay, so they were excuses, but god, Changmin. I could just see how with each passing day, you looked at me differently because I was late or I told you I couldn't make it. Didn't I give you reasons why? Just that disappointment and cold shoulder…" It broke my damn heart.
Changmin's arms were crossed over his chest as he considered your words, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "I never," he began, "thought poorly of you, Yn." It sounded like he was struggling to piece together the right words, too, and he choked down a swallow. "I was going through a lot of shit around that time, and my patience was always paper thin by the time it was our usual practice time, y'know? It was never you specifically I was mad at."
He paused for a moment. His head hung, and he picked at a stray thread on his jacket cuff. "My parents said they wouldn't support me if I majored in dance."
Your heart stopped clean.
"They basically said I'd have to finance myself for all four years if I wanted to make dancing a career," he said with a flippant, helpless gesture. "I was given some scholarship money from the school, but it was nowhere near a full ride. So I was stressed the fuck out because I knew I needed to win those comps to get more money. They were cool with me dancing as, like, a hobby or a way to get into college, but as soon as I told them my intended major was dance?"
Well, shit.
Horror pooled in your gut, the kind that started up at your shoulders and spider-crawled down the length of your spine. "I'm so sorry, Changmin. That must have been so much pressure for you, oh my god."
This entire time, you'd been under the impression that his parents were fine and dandy with their son becoming a dancer. He'd always had a natural, prodigal talent for the art form. He was the absolute cream of the crop from your class, and you couldn't believe they could be anything but proud of having a son like him.
But you supposed you shouldn't have assumed. There was a cost to being a hypocrite.
Changmin nodded, but it wasn't very affirming. It was like he had heard it all before and had already accepted it all grimly and reluctantly. "Yeah, well… I won all those comps, but what did I lose in the process, y'know?"
He gestured to you. "I just thought I'd always have you to run back to, but you were going through your own stuff. I'm not trying to pin the blame on you—it's… just that… you were my best friend. My partner."
"It's funny you say that," you said then, drumming your fingers anxiously against your leg. "I thought I could rely on you, too. And I definitely drifted away from you, but it was because of my own reasons."
Changmin nodded, settling his hands on top of the table and leaning in slightly.
Still, every time you told someone, you could never get it right. But maybe you could get it right this time. "You know how my parents got divorced and I said that my mom had changed?"
His forehead creased then, and he nodded again.
"She started yelling a lot," you said. "Would always make me listen to her scream in my face about how dance was useless, how dance would never help me in the real world, how I was absolutely awful at it and that I should be focusing on something worth my time." You swallowed, continuing on, "And when I told you I couldn't make it or that I was late, it was because she started refusing to take me to practices and competitions and shows.
"And I mean—I tried really hard to keep going, Changmin, I really did." You raised your eyes to meet his and found him staring at you still, but this time you saw that glisten in his eyes again. The tension in his jaw had slackened, and had been replaced with that same dread you had while he was telling you what happened to him. "I thought that I could get past what my mom kept telling me, and that once I got to the practice room—I just needed to get to the practice room—it would all be worth it."
There was a stinging feeling in the back of your eyes, at your tear glands. Your vision was blurring and you blinked back the traitorous tears.
Changmin pursed his lips, his face contorting slightly as he too tried to contain the emotions welling up in him. "And then I shut you out."
"We shut each other out."
"Why—" he rasped, his hand coming up to cover part of his mouth, "—didn't you tell me? I would've—god, I would've—" He didn't know, actually, but all he knew was that he would've been better. Would he have though? Truly? Would you have?
"I didn't like talking about it," you confessed, sniffling. You were ashamed of yourself, both then and now. You raised your hand up to wipe the corner of your eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No, fuck, don't apologize." He stood, arms opening and palms turning upward like an offering, "C'mere."
Both of you, teary-eyed messes, stumbled out of your chairs to close the distance in each other's arms. It was the feeling of finally holding each other after three years that made the two of you break down completely. The study room's quiet was filled with sounds of messy, blubbering sobs—hands grappling at the other's jacket, faces shoved into the warmth of a neck or shoulder.
Two pieces of a puzzle having finally been reunited.
This was where you belonged.
"This was all I wanted," you bawled into his shoulder.
It seemed to make his body tremble harder. "I would've given it to you—god, I would've given you anything. I'm so goddamn sorry."
"Hey," you mused half-heartedly, "if I'm not allowed to apologize, then neither are you."
He gave a watery chuckle. "Okay, fine." His wet eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes and tightened his hold around you. "That must have been awful, Yn. How…? Just how."
You rested your cheek against his toned shoulder. "Somehow… I don't really know. I'm proud of you, though, you know? I'm really proud of you."
"Thank you. I'm proud of you, too." He sniffled, mouth pressing against your shoulder. "All this time, I thought you hated dance and hated me."
"Oh, god no," you sniffled, sucking in a breath. "I—I knew I couldn't be strong anymore; I didn't want to disappoint you." And when you could no longer attend those practices, you had believed it would be better to not be there to drag him down. You thought that without having to wait on you every time, he would have been all the better. You see now that perhaps you were wrong in your logic.
For a moment, the two of you stood there in the other's arms as words settled and feelings sunk in. The realization that this tension between the two of you was possibly over now was crazy.
"For the record," Changmin murmured, "you're a great dancer. No matter what your mom told you, you'll always be a great dancer."
You laughed a little, shaking your head. "Not anymore, I'm not."
"That's where you're wrong." He pulled away from you and you saw the tears staining his dimpled cheeks, but the smile he was giving you was something out of a dream. He gently, playfully punched your arm. "You're still my partner, after all."
EPISODE ELEVEN: OFF THE SHELF
EVER since Changmin, Chanhee, JC!Yn, and her roommate Kei decided to change the weekly grocery shopping session to Saturday mornings, Changmin had never been so grateful for such a change until now. It used to be on Sunday mornings during the fall quarter because JC!Yn volunteered at the local children’s club on Saturday mornings, but since the Sunny Side Up Club had begun closing its doors on the weekend until summer break, her Saturdays had suddenly freed up.
Kei, as usual, had waltzed off in search of her own shopping list items, leaving JC!Yn and Changmin with the shopping cart of groceries and Chanhee sitting in the middle of it, cross-legged and swaddled in a pink hoodie.
“That’s awful,” JC!Yn lamented as she slowly trailed after Changmin while pushing the cart. There was a frown etched into her face, as well as Chanhee’s, while and after Changmin had caught them up on the events of the previous day’s talk with you. “I mean, I know some parents are super strict about their kids studying, but…” She shook her head, “You’ve both been through a terrible amount of shit, man.”
Chanhee nodded his agreement, peering up at Changmin who was at the helm of the cart, staring at the label on a container of canned corn blankly. “Yeah, for sure. How’re you holding up, Changminnie?”
Changmin shrugged half-heartedly and rather mopey. “As well as I could be.”
“Well, are you guys good now?” JC!Yn asked. “Y’know, after clearing all the air?”
Changmin made a face at the canned corn, but handed it to Chanhee to place amongst the other things in the cart with him. “I mean, kind of? Not really?” He scratched the side of his head, and his two friends looked on at him, then exchanged worried glances. Usually Changmin was the one cracking jokes, but to see him in such a state… “It’s just a little awkward now because we’ve been on ice around each other for years. Going back to normal shouldn’t be easy, should it?”
Chanhee pursed his lips, his head tilting from side to side. “That’s true. When you guys were still in grudge era, you let all the angst between you do the talking.”
“Angst? I was not angsty, for your information.”
Both of his companions scoffed their disagreement. “Every single time her name was brought up around you, you gazed far off like some kind of angsty main hero,” Chanhee retorted. “Like Kevin at that one dinner when we were interrogating Eric.”
JC!Yn laughed. “That feels like so long ago.”
Changmin sent her a look, the corner of his lips tilting upward like the arch of his eyebrow. “That’s because you and Jacob act like you’ve been married for ten years.”
Her face heated at those words, but she held her chin up in pride. “I’m gonna pretend this is your jealousy talking.”
“Oh, please,” he quipped back and turned back to the shelves to hunt for any other familiar labels that would trigger his hunger. “If I wanted to be so grossly in love—”
“Then you’d go find Yn?”
“—Then I’d go find Y—HEY!” Changmin sputtered as his cheeks lit up like the can of roasted red bell peppers in his hand. Chanhee and JC!Yn exploded into equal fits of delighted cackles, the former extending his arm back so the latter could return his fistbump. Changmin scowled through his flustered haze. “Whatever; taking advantage of my vulnerable state is not cool, guys.”
Chanhee beamed up at his best friend with the kind of smile that no one could be mad at. It was impish, adorable even. “Aw, it’s only ‘cause we love you.”
“Gross,” Changmin muttered, wrinkling his nose dramatically, then nudging his glasses up his nose.
As she stopped the cart behind Changmin, JC!Yn rested her arm against the bar and let her chin sit atop her fist as she and Chanhee watched Changmin scour the shelves again. “Didn’t you say you had feelings for her back then, Changmin-ah? Would you say they were still present or not?”
He sucked in a breath at the question as he let the question marinate in his brain. After yesterday’s world-altering talk with you, neither of you were able to stay too long afterward to catch up. You’d both, unfortunately, been called to your own separate summons. But this morning, when Changin had woken up with the information having been properly processed in his brain and given him room to overthink as he did… Truthfully, he had no idea where the two of you stood with one another. It wasn’t going to be the same, not like childhood and not like the past three years.
He didn’t exactly know what to say to you now, only that there was still that emptiness in his chest. He hadn’t expected the feeling to go away, but he also hadn’t expected it to remain. What was he supposed to do? He was pretty sure you didn’t even like him like that back then, so there was no way your feelings would have changed in that sense over the past three years. Some said that distance made the heart grow fonder, and while Changmin wasn’t one for cliche lines, he did feel an ache for you. He wanted to make up for lost time. Even if you didn’t feel the same way he had back then, it didn’t mean that he still felt the same… right?
“I think we lost him,” came Chanhee’s very loud stage whisper.
Changmin shook out of his mind and leveled a glare at his two friends. “I’ll think about it.”
“Didn’t you just think about it?”
“Hey, if JC!Yn-ie can take an entire quarter to tell Jacob-ssi her feelings, then you can give me like, five minutes to think about mine!” He squawked, waving his arms around in the air like one of those car-wash balloon people that flopped around in the wind. Except this one was high on emotions and his round lenses were slipping down his nose, adding to his overall mad man-like look.
JC!Yn deadpanned, shaking her head as she began pushing the cart after Changmin. She muttered under her breath, “He’s just astounded that he has feelings for someone, JC!Yn. Let him be touchy today.”
Chanhee, who had heard her speak to herself loud and clear, twisted around to grin and pat her arm reassuringly. “He’s just malfunctioning because he might actually have a chance now.”
“I can hear you!”
Chanhee chuckled, and the sound was villainous.
The three of them, as per routine, met up with Kei at the checkout lanes. There was one occasion where one of the workers was so tired that they tried to scan Chanhee and make them pay for him, but other than that, most people just offered him a sweet from the jar on the counter. As groceries were bagged up, and Kei was caught up on the situation at hand in verbal bullet point format, she took only a moment to suggest: “Why don’t you invite her to the dance showcase?”
All eyes went to Changmin, even as JC!Yn pushed the cart out with the group.
Changmin chewed his bottom lip. “I would, but... I dunno. I don’t want to trigger anything for her.” He winced to himself, “It would be really cool to have her there, of course! But I literally saw her in the practice room a week ago and she looked like she was seconds away from having a full-on panic attack.” As much as inviting you to watch him perform for the first time in three years thrilled him (and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest), he had seen you that day—blanched, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t imagine just what thoughts were running through your head then, especially after hearing what you had told him yesterday.
He was so—god, he was so angry at your mother. He knew about the divorce and the negative effect it had on her, but for her to practically take all that energy out on you? It was something simply unforgivable. His heart hurt for you.
Chanhee dipped his head in a slight nod, mouth curved down into a frown again. "That's fair. But I mean, it wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?"
"I just don't want to come off as insensitive, especially after three years of the cold shoulder." Your words from yesterday had penetrated him deeply—he hoped to never make you feel abandoned ever again.
Kei peered around at Changmin from the other side of JC!Yn. "If it counts, I don't think she'll take it as being insensitive, Changmin."
"She might feel better about getting, y'know, a personal invitation from you," JC!Yn chimed in. "Even if she isn't comfortable with going, she'll know you're thinking of her."
Changmin pressed his knuckles to his lips, bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously. It was amusing, and perhaps a little concerning, for his friends to see him like this. He flapped the ends of his sweater sleeves in the air like he was hyping himself up. "Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll invite her to see me perform."
He raised an arm into the air toward the sky. "The next time I see her, that's what I'll—"
"Oh, look, she's right there," said Chanhee, pointing in the distance from his cart throne.
Changmin squeaked, "She's what?!" He slid behind JC!Yn in a very poor attempt to hide himself from the oncoming party.
Said party consisted of you, Yeri, Mark, and Ten—again. Except, instead of the coffee shop across the shopping mall, it was the parking lot on his friends' turf. Mark and Yeri were the first to see Changmin's friend group, both of them making unsubtle glances at Changmin. They passed by with friendly greetings, excusing themselves as they argued over the possibility of the store having watermelon (the answer was no; sorry Mark).
You and Ten lagged behind slightly, seemingly deep in conversation. The latter listened intently, but he felt eyes on him and looked up. His eyes twinkled as he made eye contact with Changmin—Changmin couldn't tell whether or not he liked that feeling.
You realized that he was looking outward and onward, and so you followed his gaze. Your eyes widened a tad at the sight of Changmin's friend group manifesting out of nowhere. "Hi guys," you said with an awkward smile when you and Ten met them in the middle.
"Hi Yn-ie," Chanhee giggled, turning around to wag his eyebrows at Changmin.
Changmin threw back a very unimpressed scowl. He let a smile grace his face just as he looked back at you. "Hey Yn, Ten."
JC!Yn unsubtly began pushing the cart to uncover Changmin. "Hey, you two. Changmin was actually just talking about you, Yn!"
Traitor! Changmin's jaw dropped.
Ten grinned. "That's really funny, 'cause Yn was just talking about you, Changmin."
You glared daggers at your friend with the same level of betrayal in your eyes as Changmin expressed. At least you were both getting thrown under the bus.
Kei nudged him. "Don't you have something to say to her?"
"We'll get out of your hair!" Chanhee chirped, patting the side of the cart as JC!Yn resumed her pushing on the cart past you and Ten. "See you at the car, Changminnie!"
As Changmin's last line of defense walked away with JC!Yn and the shopping cart prince, Ten inclined his head to you. "Should I stick around for this?"
You sighed under your breath. "Probably not. I'll see you inside?"
"Whatever suits your fancy," he mused, shrugging. As he passed by Changmin, he winked, then whistled some random tune as he went on his merry way.
"So what's up?" You asked him then. It seemed to be a cozy morning for you as you fidgeted with the ends of your big, woolen sweater. There was something delicate about the way the corners of your lips curled up into a smile.
Changmin cupped the nape of his neck. "Oh, uh, I know we had that whole talk yesterday, and I was wondering if you'd wanna come see my performance at the winter showcase on Friday?" He added quickly, "No pressure, of course. If you're uncomfortable, then you don't have to worry."
Your lips pursed together in a slight pucker. "I'd actually love to go. I mean—" you swallowed, "—I haven't gone to one since freshman year, but I'd love to."
"You can leave whenever you start feeling uncomfortable," he assured you, but he was smiling widely now. "It'll be cool to, y'know, have you in the audience."
"That means a lot, Changmin," you said earnestly, your smile sweet. It was almost weird to not have you frowning or glaring at him. It felt… good. It felt really good. “I will try my best.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked on his heels, teeth biting down on his bottom lip to suppress the eager grin threatening to come out. “That’s all I could ask for.”
EPISODE TWELVE: OFF THE CHARTS
YOU were late. You were extremely late, actually, and to be honest, if you had known the bus was going to break down in the middle of the stupid road, you would have gotten off and walked. But then again, you were practically buried in all of the bundles of flowers you wanted to bring for your friends performing tonight. There were four bundles in total that you bothered to pick out just about two hours ago, one for Minho, one for Jungwoo, one for Ten, and of course, you could not forget one for Changmin.
When Changmin had personally invited you to come see his performance tonight earlier in the week, you couldn’t deny that the feeling made your chest warm and fuzzy. Even as you trudged your way up the stairs to the front of the performing arts building, you were filled with adrenaline and antsy energy. You’d waited so long for this, hadn’t you?
The last time you had come to see the winter showcase was in freshman year, the year the Daily asked you to write a review piece on one of the performers debuting that year, and even that had been enough of dance for the years following. It would be nice to know, this time, that you were wanted in the audience. (Changmin would have wanted you in the audience all this time, but you didn’t know that.)
Because you were unquestionably late, the doors to the hall would be closed shut now.
That was why having a friend like Boo Seungkwan was paramount.
“Thank you,” you gasped as one of the doors to the performance hall burst open and allowed you into the warmth of the lobby. You could hear the bass of whatever song was on and the audience’s cheers from here.
Seungkwan swept half of the bouquets from your arms with a click of his tongue. “Yah, you’re insane for taking the bus all the time. Yeri even asked to pick you up!”
“I know, I know!” You cried, the two of you scurrying over to one of the doors in the hall. “I panicked at the last second to get flowers and then I had to go all the way to the shop on fifth! By the way, did you know they’re open until 11?”
Both of your voices quieted as you slipped into the darkened auditorium. The stage was the only part illuminated in blinding, searing hot spotlights. You had just walked in on a brief break between acts as performers switched on and off stage. Seungkwan led you to one of the rows of seats in the nosebleeds that was relatively in the middle.
All of your friends practically occupied the entire row, and they lit up in delight at the sight of you.
“Yo Yn!” Mark whispered as he leaned over Yeri. “You’re actually here!”
Yeri reached over to squeeze your hand as you took the open seat next to her, and Seungkwan took the last seat in the aisle. “I’m so happy you’re here, Yn-ie.”
Doyoung and Kun peered out from around Mark, and you recognized a couple others from the NCT frat and RVE sorority further down the row. “Hey guys,” you said quietly to them as you wrangled your purse into your lap and adjusted the flowers in your arms, “how much did I miss?”
“Not much at all," Doyoung replied. "It's just been a few of the first years."
"We've got a little while until the older batch," Kun said with a wave of the program in his hands.
You nodded your understanding and settled into your seat to get comfortable. The performances went on one after the other. There was a mix of all different genres, ranging from contemporary ballet to tap and popping. Because everyone in the final winter showcase were in some kind of dance course on campus, a lot of the acts displayed a ton of experience already, even as first-years.
The longer the night went on, the less you believed your antsiness was a result of a nervous tick, but rather the bottled up adrenaline building up from watching all the performances. At some point, you realized you weren't even analyzing the performances anymore, but rather, sitting in awe of each one.
When a brief intermission was announced, Yeri and one of her sorority sisters squeezed past to head to the restroom while a few others from the row headed out to stretch their limbs and find some other friends. You and Seungkwan lingered in your seats, discussing your favorite performances so far, as well as how your finals weeks had gone for each of you.
"I'm just so glad we have spring break now," he groaned, his head hanging with exhaustion. "I might have skipped tonight if that meant I could sleep early."
"You would have regretted it though," you pointed out to him.
He gestured with his hand. "Right, you are." He let out a sigh as he raised his head and met your smile with a tired one of his own. "Well, Yn, you did it. You're watching your first full winter showcase. How do you feel?"
Your gaze flickered back to the stage. The house lights had come on for intermission, leaving the stage drenched in darkness. You could have sworn you saw the heavy red curtains shudder as if someone had poked their head out to view the audience. You remembered when you and Changmin used to do that when you were kids.
You turned back to Seungkwan. "I feel surprisingly okay," you confessed. "I was a little nervous before, but I think that I'm doing good."
He nodded. "Good. I'm glad you're here."
"Thanks, Kwan." You exhaled. "I didn't fully realize how long this was gonna be," you mused.
Seungkwan raised a brow at you. "Well, didn't you only stay for like, Changmin's performance last time you were here?"
"Well, yeah—"
The house lights suddenly shuttered off, and people rushed back to their seats. Your friends who were coming back squeezed past you and Seungkwan, effectively cutting off your conversation from before. The last half of the night would be handed over to the students who were majoring in dance and had been a part of the program for over two years.
You were properly in awe of the next performances. They had decided to put Ten out first, dancing to a song called Baby Don't Stop. He had mentioned the song to you once, but you hadn't really thought much about it until now. It was a side of Ten you hadn't seen yet since you had never seen him dance properly, but… you were definitely going to need to gush about this to him afterward.
You were pretty sure the crowd didn't quiet down for five performers in a row, as crazy-talented dancers such as Minho and Jungwoo followed after.
Each performance was incomparable to the next, and soon, you were sucking in a breath to the sound of Changmin's name being announced.
You slapped your hands onto Seungkwan's and Yeri's on either side of you, both of whom squeezed and shook your hands back as the curtain rose.
The lighting began a deep, electric purple, painting Changmin to look like a dark silhouette on stage. You almost couldn't make out the details of his white and black suit-like uniform. It was dynamic and unique with the suit cut outs and gloves, and he paired it all with an eye look that made his eyes feel darker and smokier.
He was still at first—until a set of horns, like trumpets, blared from the speaker's and he began striding forward.
You heard Mark gasp from two seats over. "Holy shit, he's dancing to Action Figure."
You vaguely recognized the title, but if you were thinking of the right song, then the room was about to get a lot louder. Unconsciously, you squeezed Seungkwan and Yeri's hands as you leaned forward and lingered on the edge of your seat.
The performance was everything you expected and more. Changmin was, as you had expressed before, the absolute cream of the crop. Each movement was brought with sharp precision, like the blade of a knife. Even during the slower bridge portion, he somehow executed the legato-like movements with a crispness of 4K HDR quality.
Everyone in the room held their breath (or screamed it out) with each sultry gaze, each lick of his lips, each smirk—a great dancer, a great performer; he would forever be one of the greats. That, you were very certain of.
When the song came to an end and he raised his head to peer at the audience through his bangs, you and everyone else erupted into applause, whistles, yelling—all the works. Your heart palpitated so hard in your chest that you thought it was trying to mimic his own dance. You were practically shaking from all of the bottled energy, and…
"Wow," you breathed out as you leaned back in your seat as the stage was reset for the next act. Your knee began bouncing fervently, sending the flowers in your lap up and down as well.
Seungkwan murmured his agreement, "Whew. I can't tell if I'm attracted or intimidated."
You snorted, patting his hand with your palm. "Both?"
"Probably."
You laughed, your hand lifting up to absentmindedly press against the base of your throat and sternum.
You couldn't help but think about what Changmin had revealed to you that day. How could a pair of parents not be absolutely floored to have a son as talented as Ji Changmin? It was so unbelievable to you, but you couldn't imagine how it might have felt to suddenly have all that support be ripped out from beneath your feet like his support had been.
The performances following would finish off those of the solo category. Afterwards, a handful of groups performed, including repeats of a few performers. Minho and Jungwoo had performed a stage together (Finesse, if you weren't mistaken), while Changmin and Juyeon made a return to the stage with another sultry hit by the name of Light a Flame.
By the end of the night, you were eager to head backstage to see your friends who had just performed their hearts out.
Plus, the bouquets were wilting.
Once the house lights had thunked to life, and the crowd was beginning to lessen, the row you were seated in with your friends stood together. Some of them were going to head straight home, but a few others planned to stay back to congratulate the performers on a night well done.
"You guys ready to head back?" Mark asked while nodding toward the stage with his hands shoved into the pockets of his puffer vest.
The high you were on was gradually fading out, and you had to clear your throat. "Can I meet you guys back there? I think I'm gonna take a quick breather and then just go in through the backdoor."
They were more than okay with accommodating you, encouraging you to take as long as you needed. Mark and Yeri both took the remaining two bouquets from your arms as Seungkwan ushered you out the door to take that breather.
As you hit the cool, early-March air, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself and inhaled deeply. All around you, people lingered and chatted with each other, gushing about their favorite performances and reenacting the most memorable parts. You smiled to yourself when you overheard a group of boys near you talking about Changmin's tasteful choice in music, as well as the cohesion of his entire performance, ranging from not only the music choice, but down to the costuming as well. (And the choreography, of course. Everything about his performance, as emphasized, was breathtaking.)
With a sigh, you began rounding the building toward the back entrance.
Now that you had the space to deconstruct your thoughts, you realized that although you felt an indescribable amount of pride for your friends, you couldn't help the pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. In a way, you envied the performers onstage. You wished you had held on a little longer; maybe then, you could have been one of the people on stage tonight like you had wanted when you were just a teen.
When you reached the back door, you managed to gather your strength and let yourself in.
Like that day you had taken Sumin backstage, it was all hustle and bustle, but ten times that. Pandemonium erupted as performers raced past you left and right trying to find their friends, fellow performers, and even the location of their hairspray. (They should have put their name on it, you thought cheekily, but even then, it might not have worked still, you supposed.)
You kept your arms crossed over your chest as you squeezed past people toward where you were hoping to find your friends. As you walked into the dressing room corridor, you nearly collided with a silky dress shirt.
"Yn! I can't believe I found you," Ten chuckled.
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him in an affectionate embrace. "Ten! I can't believe you found me either. It's a madhouse here." You scanned the faces and bodies buzzing about for any sign of your friends. "Have Mark, Yeri, or Seungkwan found you yet? They have the flowers I was gonna give you."
Ten's lips curled up into a smile as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Gasp, you got me flowers?"
"Yes, and please never say 'gasp' aloud ever again," you winced.
That only made his smile grow. "No promises. But what'd you think of the show tonight? I'm glad you stayed the whole time."
"It was incredible! You were incredible," you amended with your eyes likely the shape of stars. "Who gave you the absolute audacity to be so talented, sir! I swear I heard some girl faint a couple rows behind me," you joked.
His eyes narrowed into sly, little crescents. "Oh? And did you faint for mine, too? Or did you save that reaction for another special someone?"
You flushed, your eyes averting to anywhere but the nosy feline before you.
Ten threw his head back in a loud guffaw. "Okay, okay. I see how it is. He's been looking for you, by the way."
Your eyes went wide. "And you wait until now to tell me?"
"I wanted my dose of Yn affection, too," he shrugged, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Plus, the look on your face was well worth it."
"Sometimes I hate you."
"Some is not all," he pointed out.
"—you said she was over here? Yn!"
Yours and Ten's heads turned and you watched as Changmin's eyes found yours in the crowded room. He began pushing his way toward you, sweat still dampening the strands of hair and falling into the collar of the dark blazer he wore for Light a Flame.
Ten snickered under his breath. "Well, I'm gonna go find Mark to get my flowers. Text me later, 'kay? Okay!"
Before you could blink, Ten had disappeared into the masses. You swore that man was so slippery sometimes.
You glanced back in the direction that you saw Changmin coming from,but when you couldn't find him, you frowned. It really was awfully hard to find people in here…
"Boo!"
You swore your soul left your body for five seconds. You whirled around, glaring daggers at the impish squirrel man who somehow ended up behind you. "You're such a menace."
Changmin grinned so wide it looked like even his dimples were strained. "Sorry," he wheezed, not sounding sorry at all. "The opportunity presented itself on a gold-plated platter."
"You should feel very lucky that I wasn't holding lemonade this time."
"Okay, but why were you drinking that without a cap on the cup? Did they not give you a plastic lid or something?"
You felt the corner of your mouth lift. How was it so easy to recall these things? "It's just the universe telling you to end your pranks."
He shrugged helplessly. "I can't help that you are so easy to sneak up on."
"You're gonna say that when I somehow heard you asking if I was in here from across the room?"
"That's because I let you hear that; there's a difference," he said, leaning against the corridor wall next to you. He looked you up and down, tongue darting out for a moment. "Thanks for coming tonight."
You leaned your shoulder against the wall next to him. "I enjoyed myself," you said in reply. "You did really well tonight though, Changmin. It was a great performance."
He grinned, and his tongue had to poke the inside of his cheek. "Just great?"
You raised your eyebrows at him and decided to bypass that question for the moment. "Did my friends give you your flowers?"
Changmin showed his empty hands and you deadpanned.
"What?" He giggled. "I'm just stating the obvious."
"You're so infuriating sometimes."
He gently bumped your shoulder with his. "Nothing new."
Nothing new, indeed. It was strange, actually, falling into this kind of easygoing, light-hearted banter. You'd seen how easy it was that night in the lab, but this was nice, you had to admit. Banter and arguing were two different things, you learned, and the latter always took such a toll on those involved.
How did the two of you stay away for so long? Maybe you were both too prideful, too afraid to break the ice.
Changmin's expression sobered a little as he observed your expression. "What're you thinking about?"
You blinked, glancing over at him. "Nothing, just…" Your voice lowered to something like a whisper, "I missed this." I missed you.
And as you met his eyes again, you knew that he had heard you. He swallowed, roughly. "Me too."
EPISODE THIRTEEN: OFF THE CUFF
THE quad was in bloom with the coming of spring and spring break. It was tradition at your university to take pictures and to take a stroll through the freshly bloomed cherry blossom trees lining the rectangular lawn. Only in spring did the trees reveal their beautiful, baby pink flowers, so it was optimal to go frolic amongst them while they were full.
Changmin had been dragged out by Chanhee. Well, he liked to say that Chanhee forced him outside, but in reality, Changmin had put just as much effort into his appearance today as Chanhee did, just not as formal. And luckily, it wasn't just the two best friends who were out with them among the crowd of people, but also the entirety of their friend group—plus the significant others, too.
"I hate this more than Valentine's Day," Sunwoo grumbled as he blew a curl out of his eyes. He was referring to the couples all around them taking pictures and holding hands and kissing.
"You're telling me," Kevin sighed as he messed with the settings on his camera for the pictures he wanted to take of the scenery. "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."
Sangyeon had his phone out and was already taking photos of the blooming flowers around him and in the trees. He suddenly turned his phone around, set at point five zoom. "Hey guys, look here and smile!"
Everyone in the shot (all the singles: Chanhee, Changmin, Sunwoo, Kevin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae) slapped smiles onto their faces. As soon as Sangyeon put the phone down, their smiles dropped.
"Who was that for?" Juyeon asked as he slung an arm around Sangyeon's shoulder to peer at the eldest's phone screen. He made a groaning noise before peeling away. "Ahhhh, 'The Girlfriend'. I see."
Sangyeon cocked a brow at him. "Have you finally accepted that I have a girlfriend?"
"Nope."
Sangyeon's eyes looked up and away in exasperation, before he shook his head and returned to doing whatever he was doing.
Changmin surveyed the crowded quad with disinterest. He scanned all of the faces present around him; too many to count that was for sure. Jacob and JC!Yn had separated from them almost immediately; Eric and his girlfriend were off being cute or something; Younghoon and his partner hadn't even traveled here with most of them; but at least Haknyeon and his significant other stayed with them for the first five minutes to make conversation about the dance showcase a few nights ago.
He sighed. That was how long ago it had been since he last saw you. (My god, he sounded like some kind of lovesick teenager, waiting by the landline for his lover to ring him up—)
On the other side of the quad, you and your friends had just arrived to do the same exact thing Changmin's friends were. But as soon as you saw the crowd, you were five seconds from simply giving up.
"We'd get like, one flower, and that's it," Seungkwan argued to Yeri who was trudging forward despite the load of people around.
Yeri huffed. "Not if you don't try, Boo Seungkwan."
He made a noise of disgruntlement, his head lifting up and nostrils flaring. "Oh my god—"
"Yn, my wife, defend my honor!"
You snapped up straight, tuning back into the conversation. Mark and Jungwoo trailed somewhere behind the three of you and if you weren't careful, you'd lose them, too. "Huh? Oh, well, Seungkwan…" Your voice trailed off, and your eyes wandered to a specific gathering of trees further down the lawn from where you currently were.
It was unfair how he was framed like a K-Drama shot: the slow motion pink petals drifting around him, his lithe body gracefully leaning against the dark bark of the cherry blossom tree, the green sweater vest layered over a white shirt and pants. You gulped—he looked way too pretty to just be standing there—
"—hello? Earth to Yn?" A hand was waving in front of your face and someone was poking your shoulder.
You shook away from them, eyes wide like a child with your hand caught in the cookie jar. "Huh?"
Seungkwan and Yeri sent you curious looks. "You were staring at Changmin," said Yeri, arms crossing over her chest.
Seungkwan let out a dramatically wistful, little sigh as he scratched the side of his head. "You're so lucky that Ten's not here; we are so very merciful compared to him."
You rolled your eyes, even though they were right. "I wasn't staring! I just—I couldn't tell if it was really him or not."
"Because I'm just so breathtakingly beautiful?"
"Definitely n—what the fuck," you yelped, nearly leaping out of your skin again at the right of Changmin's dimpled smile as he seemingly appeared out of thin air right next to you.
Changmin erupted into howling laughter, folding over onto his knees as he slapped his leg once, twice—
"You're not even that funny," you grumbled, side-eyeing both him and your friends. (Guess you really did lose Mark and Jungwoo…)
Seungkwan and Yeri did not hide their own laughs very well, but they definitely weren't knee-slapping themselves.
"How'd you even cover so much ground that fast?" You queried, whirling back on Changmin.
He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, his hands resting in the pockets of pants as he stood in a relaxed posture. His skin was unfairly pretty in this lighting, like his smile. "I harnessed my inner squirrel."
"You mean your inner furry?"
Seungkwan and Yeri chose this moment to slip away, calling out something like "we're just gonna go walk a tree" before bowing out. Changmin feigned an expression of offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "Rude! It's called athleticism."
You wrinkled your nose. "Like you know what athleticism is."
"I'll race you to the stairs over there right now—HEY, CHEATER! I DIDN'T SAY GO—" Despite his indignant squawk, Changmin's cheeks hurt from how hard he grinned as he raced after you toward the stairs at the other end of the lawn.
— ✶
"So… no Ten today?"
After a daring race, you and Changmin settled on top of the stairs overlooking the entire lawn. The sun hung at golden hour position and painted the landscape and people below in beautiful, buttery gold wash. You even swore you saw Chanhee chasing after Sunwoo with a handful of loose cherry blossom petals, no doubt to dump into the latter's hair.
You looked over to where Changmin was leaning back onto his palms next to you. "This again?"
He pursed his lips. "Well, I mean," he drawled, "you guys are pretty close. I just figured you'd do this kind of thing together."
"That's fair," you conceded. "Uh, he's actually on a trip with a couple of his frat brothers this week. Something like backpacking in Switzerland."
Changmin gave an indulgent nod of his head. "Wow. Switzerland."
"I know, right?"
He peered out into the distance, eyes squinting against the strength of the sun, but he looked like an art piece nonetheless. “You and Ten aren’t, like, together? Are you?”
You tilted your head to the side. Interesting question. “No, we’re friends. I think in the beginning it might have felt like something on that level, but we’ve both—I think we’re both on the same page where we stand with each other.” You didn’t know why you were telling him so much; he’d only asked you a question. But speaking of being together with someone… You coughed, “Sumin told me what happened during the interview a couple weeks ago.”
Changmin smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “Oh, ha, she did? I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.”
“You really didn’t know?”
“That she liked me? No,” he laughed with a shake of his head. He leaned forward onto his knees then, turning his head to the side to look at you with his fingers laced over his knees. “Who do you take me for, hm? I couldn’t just assume she had a crush on me.”
You feigned a look of disagreement, and he gasped, shoving your upper arm playfully. “I’m not that bad!” He exclaimed.
“You could be that bad,” you teased.
You watched as his expression cooled and the air around the two of you shifted. There was an earnestness in his eyes now, emphasized by the brilliance of the setting sun reflecting across his smooth lines of his face. “Have you ever thought about, you know, like trying to dance again?”
You weren’t sure what prompted this change in subject, but you gave it a thought. “I definitely have,” you said honestly, “I just can’t really step into a practice room without getting nervous.” You picked at a stray thread on your pants as you spoke and felt his gaze on you. “That night—the one when you saw me in front of the performing arts hall really late at night—I was trying to get myself to go in. To at least… try, y’know. Maybe prove to myself that I could work up the courage to go in, but I couldn’t.”
Changmin was quiet for a moment. His knees angled themselves toward you, and he leaned forward so his chest practically laid over his legs. “I said a lot of bad things to you in senior year,” he said lowly. “They were stupid—I was stupid. And—and if your anxiety with practice rooms comes from me, then—”
“Changmin,” you interrupted and captured his attention. You shifted to mimic his body positioning, so your eyes were level and you were both just as small as the other. “I said really shitty things to you, too.”
“I told you that you should quit,” he rasped. He had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see the silver pooling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Yn; I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”
You heard his sniffle over all of the chatter from the lawn below and you moved closer to him until your legs and arms were pressed together. You wrapped an arm around him, only for him to raise himself up and practically drape himself over you, his arms looped around your upper body and his face tucked into the side of your neck. Your heart tripped over itself in surprise, but you let yourself lean into his body heat.
“I’m sorry, too. I know you didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t mean any of what I said either.” You breathed for a moment and sighed, simply allowing him to stay in your arms for however long he needed. “I think,” you started, “even after three years, I still blame myself for letting all of that get to me. Sometimes, I want to go back in time and slap some sense into myself; maybe tell myself that I shouldn’t have let what my mom said bury itself so deep inside me. I mean… where would I be now had I not listened to her?”
Changmin pulled away then, resting his forearms on his legs again, but he didn’t back away from you. “You were just a kid, Yn. You can’t blame yourself.”
You rested your cheek against your fist. “I know. It’s hard not to, though.”
“I know.” He took another look at you, and you felt his eyes really take you in for a moment. The corner of his lips lifted. “Are you happy?”
“With?”
“With how you turned out? Where you ended up?”
You held your breath. It was a good question, and as you turned to search yourself inwardly, you came to a couple of conclusions. “In a way, I am. It’s probably just bitterness and regret I feel when I wonder what could have been, but maybe things happen for a reason.”
He nodded, his hand reaching up to pick out a stray leaf that had fallen into your hair. “We can always make up for lost time now,” he said. “We never did get to finish that duet.”
EPISODE FOURTEEN: [GET] OFF THE GROUND
THE next day, you found yourself standing outside the back door to the performing arts building. Because it was spring break, a large helping of the student population had abandoned campus as soon as their finals were over, leaving the place barren except for the area with the cherry blossoms. You stood next to Changmin, the latter holding his bag by the strap over his shoulder. You had been staring at the door for more than a minute now, trying to slow the palpitations of your heart.
“We can leave whenever you want to,” he murmured to you, the back of his hand nudging yours. “Let’s just try.”
You got yourself to nod.
The hallways were uncharacteristically quiet compared to the previous couple of times you had been back here. Since there was no one else here, you and Changmin got to pick whichever practice room you wanted. The largest one was the winner, and the lights flickered on to wash the shadows away. You immediately moved to one side of the room to set your things down, and Changmin went to his corner by the speaker. He was already hooking up his phone to the aux cord, but kept one eagle-eye on you as you inhaled the sight of the empty room around you.
As usual, your throat began closing in on itself, and you coaxed yourself into taking deep breaths.
You started out on the floor in front of the mirror, your legs crossed over each other and Changmin’s phone in your hands. Changmin had shouldered off his white athletic jacket, and began stretching as you swiped through the selection of music on his phone. The two of you collectively agreed for you to start off just watching. Once you were comfortable in the practice room environment, and if you wanted to dance, you would join him whenever you were ready. If you were never ready, then you could continue to just watch him and cheer him on during the practice.
You watched him card a hand through his hair as he peered at himself in the mirror behind you. “I always thought this mirror made you vain,” you chuckled, your hand having settled into your lap instead of at the base of your throat.
He furrowed his brows at you. His hands rested on his hips, the muscle in his forearms emboldening from the action. “Rude. I think you were the one who made me vain.”
“The fuck? How so?” You challenged.
“You always said you admired my facial expressions and my pretty smile,” he grinned at your reaction, snickering to himself. “Did you pick a song yet?”
You watched him dance. For the first few songs that played on shuffle, he was simply warming up his body and freestyling to whatever he heard. You knew Changmin was no stranger to people watching him dance, but there was something still so intimate about watching him in this space. You could watch him create things like magic, as well as watch him fumble and laugh at his own misgivings. Except, instead of doing it all by himself, his eyes would find yours and smile.
Next quarter, Changmin was supposedly signed on to be a TA for one of the dance courses, so he asked for your opinion on a few of his ideas for choreographies he could teach.
After showing you his second idea, he gestured to you then looked back at himself in the mirror. “What do you think? I’m not sure if writing something for each nuance in the beat would be a bit too much or if it’s something that should be used as a challenge routine.”
You hummed in understanding. “Well, if it’s an intermediate dance course, then I think it could be worked up to. Are these people dance majors or… maybe minoring in dance?”
He nodded when you said the latter. “Supposedly, they aren’t necessarily dance majors. But yeah, I agree—it could probably be brought out later in the quarter instead.” He made a motion with his hand as he backpedaled a couple steps to give himself more room between you and him. “Could you rewind to the first verse again? I wanna see something.”
You obliged him and rewinded the song to his desired timestamp. He tried out another possible set of choreo, but ended up stopping halfway through the chorus.
Again and again, you rewinded the song for him to try something new, but each time, he was met with his own dissatisfaction.
You suddenly stood, setting his phone on the ground with the song having been rewinded just slightly before the intended timestamp. Your hands were shaky and your heart was probably beating at an unhealthy speed, but you needed to try out something.
Changmin’s eyes opened wide as you came to stand next to him, but he said nothing. Instead, he let you loosely show him what you had concocted in your head while watching him go through trial after trial.
Before you knew what was happening, the two of you were weaving your ideas together, taking pieces of his original choreography and amending it with yours. You had watched him from the beginning so many times that you didn’t need long to pick up on the rest. By the end, the two of you had danced the entirety of the song together, your chest rising and falling fast with the speed of your breath.
Changmin released an exclamatory yell, thrusting his fist to the ceiling, then clasping your hand with his. “Let’s go! I really like that, Yn,” he said with his face split by a shit-eating grin.
Your heart was bursting again, not with nerves, but something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. You brushed the hair from your eyes, a satisfied beam set on your face. “I like it, too.”
There was a sheen akin to pride in his eyes. “I wanna show you something,” he said, walking over to his phone with a skip in his step. “Stay there! I wanna teach you this bit of choreo that’s been living in my head for a while now.”
And so, you followed Changmin’s instructions as he put on a groovy-type beat. The routine was simple enough—looks-wise. But if you knew anything about the things Changmin choreographed, the difficulty was all in the subtlety and technique. When you were younger, the appeal between you and Changmin as partners were that you were practically foils for each other. While Changmin ruled the arena of sharp, focused isolations and movements, your area of expertise laid in bigger, fuller movements like that of a brushstroke. When you had watched Juyeon and Changmin’s performance during the winter showcase, you supposed that was why they were able to complement each other well. It was essentially what you and Changmin were, in combination.
The longer you and Changmin danced, the more your chest filled with air and warmth and love and happiness. The guilt and fear from before had melted away to reveal this suppressed portion of you that had been hidden for a long time.
At some point, the two of you were just messing around, and ended up sprawled on the polished wood floor of the practice room clutching your stomachs while choking on laughter.
Changmin rolled onto his side, eyes still squinted in delight as he tried to get a grip of his breathing. “Is your back okay?” He managed to wheeze between gasps and howls.
You wiped a tear that crept out from your eye. “No! I just tried carrying a fifty-something-kg man on my back. Do you think I’m okay?”
“In my defense,” he said, peering down at you as he rose into a sitting position and leaned back onto his palms, “you claimed you were stronger than me and could be the base.”
“A warning would have been nice!” You exclaimed. You rolled onto your stomach, laying your chin over your arms. “No one in their right mind just jumpscares people like that.”
“Have you met me?”
“Fair enough.”
A remnant of that merriment remained on his lips as he felt around the floor around him for where his phone had fallen out of his pants pocket. He caught a glimpse of the time, sighing, then raking a hand through his hair. “It’s already one o’clock. Are you hungry? Wanna get lunch or something?”
“Sure, what do you feel like?” You asked, eyes following his movements as he clambered up to his feet and tucked his phone back into his pocket.
He pressed his lips together in thought, humming, “Dunno. Fast food maybe?”
You rolled into a sitting position, similar to the one he had been in just moments before. “Okay.”
“Come on; let’s get up then.” He offered a hand out to you, and you clasped his forearm tightly.
In one fell motion, Changmin swept you upright and to your feet—but he used a little too much pulling force, and you were stumbling into him, palms pressed flat against his chest, and his arms coming around your waist. You held your breath as the two of you fought to stabilize the other.
“Shit, sorry about that,” he muttered from above you with a low chuckle.
You opened your mouth to reply, but as you raised your head to meet his eyes and not just his Adam’s apple, you lost all your breath. There was barely a hairsbreadth distance between your face and his. Changmin came to the same determination as you had and his eyes went wide.
A curious thing happened. His pupils dilated, and his eyes darted down to your mouth and his tongue swiped over his own to dampen them.
Your breath as you exhaled was as unsteady as your heart rate.
You felt his hold on your tighten slightly; his Adam’s apple bobbed. And then he was leaning forward, his eyes fluttering closed—
He kissed you then.
His lips were soft over your own with the slightest bit of pressure, nose nudging the side of your cheek.
Your hands moved up the plane of his chest to grasp his toned shoulders; he shifted his left hand to cradle the back of your head.
Wait, what is happening—
You both pulled away, as if the same thought had echoed through both of your heads at the same time.
Panic leapt into the two of you and you jolted away when the distinct sound of Boss by some group called Neo Culture Technology blasted throughout the quiet practice room.
"Fuck," you swore. You glanced back at Changmin and saw the question, the uncertainty, the—you couldn't even tell. Your mind was everywhere and nowhere at once. You could still feel his mouth on yours. "That—that's Doyoung's ringtone. I have to take this."
"Okay," he whispered inaudibly, and you slipped out from his hold.
With your back to him, he rubbed his hands down his face and an indescribable emotion seized his chest. He rubbed a thumb over his lips…
"Doyoung, you need to calm down," you said as Doyoung's voice quite literally rambled at lightspeed into your ear.
You heard your friend take one deep breath, then repeat, "I think one of these final draft files are corrupted. I'm freaking the fuck out right now, and I know you're not out of town, so if you could please—for the sake of my sanity—come to the office and help me!" He was pleading, begging, and Kim Doyoung did not beg. He sounded like one hair-pull from dropping down to his knees.
In any other context, you would have wanted to record this for the history books. Any other context.
Your eyes darted over to Changmin who was still standing in the middle of the room, hands tucked into his pockets, and gaze pinned to you.
You couldn't just—leave? Could you? Not after that—
Then you caught Changmin nodding his head in the direction of the door, his head cocking to the side in silent question. Do you need to go? He mouthed.
You pursed your lips with a reluctant nod. Something's wrong with the paper.
Then go. We'll talk after.
Talk. Yup. You started grabbing your things and you squeezed your phone between your ear and shoulder. "—okay okay, Doyoung. Can you stop wasting your energy for me, and tell me exactly what the screen is telling you?"
You began making your way to the door, but halted in the doorway. You hesitated, turning back to look at Changmin. You really shouldn't leave—but you had to.
"Yn."
You grabbed your phone and pressed the speaker into your shoulder. "Yes?" It sounded breathless.
Desperation gleamed like silver in his eyes. One did not often see that emotion from Ji Changmin. "Don't shut me out."
EPISODE FIFTEEN: OFF THE BOOKS
THE first person that came to mind was Choi Chanhee. "What—"
"I kissed her!" Changmin blurted, hand slapping over his mouth.
"You what?!"
— ✶
You were breathless, brain muddled, a hot mess of a shitshow, when you got to the Daily. The rest of the Board members were on break, including your resident tech expert, so you had assured Doyoung that you were free if he needed anything. (If you weren't deeply regretting that now though.)
You had fast walked all the way from the performing arts center to the Daily's newsroom, effectively cutting travel time down from ten minutes to seven, even with your bag of items. Though, it definitely didn't help your headspace. You could hardly think about Changmin, the kiss, and a corrupted file all at the same time. Not to mention, you finally managed to wrangle Doyoung off the phone with you so he could go splash water on his face to calm the fuck down.
The newsroom was dark when you got there, but you saw the light from Doyoung's office shining down the corridor. He was seated behind his desk, his expression a lot more calm than he sounded from the phone, but his face and bangs were a bit damp, meaning he had actually gone to wash his face. Good.
He saw you trudging down the hall, your baby hairs flying everywhere, and your breath coming out in pants. He noticed the bag slung over your shoulder and had the nerve to ask, "Oh, were you on the way somewhere?"
You sent him a pained stare and collapsed into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.
"You look stressed."
"Changmin and I kissed."
Doyoung's eyes nearly fell out of his head and his body was half an inch from falling out of his chair. "HUH?"
Your head craned back against the back of the chair. "I know."
"Girl, why are you here then?"
"You said it was an emergency!" You cried, straightening. You didn't even acknowledge the fact that Doyoung had just called you "girl". "Now, let's work this file situation out."
Doyoung moved his laptop further away from you. "Oh, nuh-uh, Missy. You're gonna just send me your copy, and then you're gonna go on your merry way back to Mr. Dancer Man and kiss him again."
Your face scrunched up. "Hello?" What was in the sink water in this building…
"Did you talk about it? Are you two dating now?"
"Doyoung," you whined, scrubbing a hand over your face, "you literally called right after we kissed."
Doyoung made a noise of disappointment. "Damn, I'm never gonna live this down."
"Seungkwan's gonna call you a cockblocker for the rest of your life," you muttered in agreement.
He snorted. "You said it, not me." He sobered then, closing the lid of his laptop so he could lace his fingers over it and fix you with a serious expression. "So how do you feel? Tell me what happened."
You twisted and dropped your bag to the ground by your feet, moving your chair closer to the desk so you could drape your upper half on top of the cool surface. "We were dancing—"
"Really?"
"Mhm," you hummed against the table. "It was… it was really nice, Doie. I actually had fun. And then we just—I don't even know—we played around a little and he was helping me up off the ground, and suddenly we were kissing."
Doyoung's brows furrowed together. "Ah, I see. Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?"
"He kissed me, but I didn't stop him." You could recall the look in his eyes with a striking amount of clarity. "I… I don't really know what it all means, or what it means to me. I'm a little confused, if I'm honest."
He sighed. "And that's okay. I think this is something you definitely need to go back and talk to him about though, hm?"
"Yeah."
"But Yn," he continued, reaching over to rub the top of your head and get you to look up, "did you ever have feelings for the guy?"
You slowly raised yourself up from the table with a frown on your face. "When I was a kid, I didn't really see anyone else but him," you confessed, almost unconsciously. You hadn't known what the feeling you harbored for him was back then, but maybe you could seek to understand it now.
Doyoung made a vague gesture with his hand as he sat back in his chair. "Well, that's a start for sure. But you and he have been on rocky terrain for years now. You're not kids anymore and a lot of things have changed." He was right, in some sense. You and Changmin had spent three years convincing yourselves you didn't need each other. Perhaps it had been the opposite the entire time, but what did it all mean?
"I'm glad to have him in my life again," you said quietly. "I think I've always felt… different about Changmin than any other friend I've had before, y'know? It was just unconscious in a way."
"Would you want to act on that then? See where it goes?"
You let his questions resonate around your head for a minute. But the more you thought about it, the more certain you became of your answer.
— ✶
The back corridors of the performing arts hall were just as dark as it was when you had left. For a moment, you were afraid that Changmin had left. But as you neared the practice room from earlier, you could make out the sounds of voices drifting from the cracked open door of the room.
You strained your ears—who was that with Changmin?
You reached the door, quietly pressing yourself against the wall to peer in through the cracked doorway. There, sitting opposite Changmin on the practice room floor, was Chanhee.
"—think about it, Changmin," said Chanhee as he dropped his friend by the shoulders to keep him from sulking. "She kissed you back. Don't you think that means something?"
"She could've just been caught up in the moment," Changmin countered. "She could've—" He made a frustrated noise and threw his hands out in front of him, "Maybe I just don't want to be disappointed."
Chanhee frowned. "Disappointed… that she doesn't return your feelings? Changmin, can you be honest with me for a second?"
He gave a solemn nod.
"Those feelings you had for her when you were a kid—have they ever gone away?"
You had to back away from the door and press your palm against your mouth. But because of that, you weren't able to catch Changmin's answer. Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your hands shaking as your thoughts raced in your head. You had to open the door now. You'd already intruded when you eavesdropped on their conversation.
Sucking in a breath, you pushed the door open wider. No going back now.
Changmin and Chanhee were both frozen in place when you poked your head into the room. The former paled in the warm-toned practice room lights, and you saw him gulp.
"Yn!" Chanhee laughed nervously as he and his friend both scrambled to their feet. His car keys jangled noisily from where they hung on a clip from his belt loop. "Uhm, I think I should leave," he said, clearing his throat and brushing past you.
You grabbed your arm as you shuffled into the room and gently kicked the door closed behind you.
Changmin cupped the back of his neck. "How much did you hear?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the open glisten in his eyes, the pure vulnerability lying stark on his face. It felt like you were seventeen again, standing alone together in the practice room, not really sure what the other person would say or do or feel.
"What did Chanhee mean by you having feelings for me when we were kids?" You asked.
The silence was palpable. "You really didn't know?"
No, you shook your head, definitely not. "I—I mean, no. Not really. I guess I always thought… I don't know what I thought."
He braced both hands behind his head now, his eyes tilted back toward the ceiling. "Yn," he said before looking you in the eyes again, "every time I saw you, I saw someone who put the fucking stars in the sky. If you watch any of our videos from back then—" He pushed out a haggard breath from his mouth. "I could never not care for you, could never stop caring for you. It hurt a lot when we stopped being us because I thought I…"
His hands fell to his sides, helpless. "I thought I lost you. And then it felt like you hated me, so I tried to hate you, too. And then we worked shit out. And then…" Changmin brushed his bangs back and was unable to look you in the eyes for longer than a second with each glance. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I don't want to lose you again, Yn."
Your heart thundered in your ears so loud that you almost thought he could hear it, even from so far away. You got yourself to take a step forward, and then another.
Changmin waited as you walked closer to him, his lips pressed together.
You inhaled. "Changmin, I can't say for sure what I felt for you back then, and I definitely can't articulate my feelings for you as well as you just did—" His eyes clashed with yours, that energy colliding, "—but I'm not sorry you kissed me, or that I kissed you."
You thought you heard his breath hitch for a moment.
"I don't want to lose you again, either," you said and tentatively reached for his hands. Never in your years of knowing him had you known a moment where his fingers trembled like they did now. "And I—I really want to see where this goes. Would you want to see where this goes with me?"
His fingers curled around yours as he nodded. "Yes."
EPISODE SIXTEEN: OFF [MY] FACE
"WHAT about that one?"
"Don't touch that one."
"Will it burn my skin off?" Changmin asked in a sleepy daze as one hand rubbed his eye and the other reached for the gallon of liquid that sat behind a locked cabinet with a clearly marked DO NOT TOUCH. DANGER. plastered on the side.
"Yes," you said without looking up from your organic chemistry textbook.
Changmin's hand dropped immediately and he turned to send a look your way. "Well, that's not very safe."
His hoodie-covered head began bumbling back over to you through the maze of workbenches. It was the first week back to school from spring break, thus, the very first week of the spring quarter. You and Changmin were currently in your regular lab space that you unofficially dubbed your study area. Kun was in the break room probably half asleep over a bag of shrimp chips, and Ten… Ten was somewhere around here. Maybe he got lost down the hallway looking for the bathroom or something.
Changmin had come to hang out with you though, even though he was practically a walking baby giraffe as drowsiness possessed his whole being. But he insisted on staying until you went home.
"It's actually just distilled water," you said with a chuckle. "The lab professors just don't want people using it because for some reason, the convenience stores around here are always out, and they don't want to go hunting for more."
You felt him drape over your back with a fwump. "I love when you talk dirty to me," he said through a rather large yawn.
You grinned to yourself, shaking your head. "Okay, I think we need to get you home."
"Not before you take me to dinner first."
"Are you sure you're not drunk?"
You packed your things up quickly, especially when you saw Changmin nodding off while standing upright. It was already around nine o'clock by the time you said good night to Kun and located Ten (yeah, he'd gone looking for the bathroom and almost gotten locked in a supply closet instead).
Changmin tried to convince you he was okay to drive, but by the way he couldn't even figure out that his keys were hanging on his belt loop, it was safe to say that you were driving tonight. The drive over to Changmin and Chanhee's apartment was an easy one since they lived in the university district and the streets were quite barren at this point. You helped him up to the apartment, greeting Chanhee who was in a fluffy pink robe and matching headband.
"Hi Chanhee," you sighed as you pushed Changmin into the bathroom to shower.
Chanhee looked on in ill-concealed amusement. "He'll be much better after he showers," he reassured you from his perch on the couch. You saw the page-long math problems spread out on the coffee table and held in a gag.
"Dear god, I hope so."
Chanhee directed you to where Changmin's room was and you dumped both yours and his backpacks on the floor by his desk. You actually had yet to step foot in here until now, so while Changmin was doing his thing in the bathroom, you let your eyes roam all around the room. It was relatively clean (emphasis on relatively) with walls that were minimally decorated. There was a whole separate rack of shirts and jackets left outside the small wardrobe, and you recognized a couple of them.
You leaned over his desk to see what he had posted on the wall above it. There were a couple dozen printed photographs of him and his friends, as well as an award or two that were big in name and no doubt special to him. You felt yourself smile; you didn't have to be up here, but you liked seeing his smile in all of these pictures.
And then you saw it.
There was a printed copy of a review pinned amongst the pandemonium of memorabilia. The layout of the page was incredibly familiar, and with widened eyes, you realized that it was a review from the Daily's Opera Glasses.
In fact, as you squinted and skimmed, it was your review from freshman year. It was your (anonymous) review about his debut winter showcase performance.
Wow.
You barely registered Changmin shuffling into the room in slippers and a bathrobe of his own, his dark hair still dripping with water.
He passed you a glance while heading for his wardrobe. "Hey, do you wanna stay over?"
You definitely weren't prepared for that question. "Stay over?" You parroted dumbly. "Also, you have an Opera Glasses review printed out?" Your hand gestured to the sheet of paper pinned to the wall.
Changmin's head turned and he abandoned the wardrobe to walk over to you and his desk. You pressed yourself against the wall to the side to give him space to look. "Ah," he said with a boyish grin, "that was yours, wasn't it?"
"How the hell could you tell?"
He leaned in close to you, bracing an arm above your head. The smell of his shampoo was strong and you came to the realization that he was still in a bathrobe. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You don't think I could tell what your writing voice sounded like?" He asked, his voice suddenly lowered.
You inched forward, a dare. "Are you gonna get dressed, Changmin?"
His smile widened. "I could," he teased.
"Hey! Can you guys close the door or keep it down? Some of us are single and have math homework!"
Both you and Changmin laughed at Chanhee's outburst even though your face was definitely heated up.
Changmin took advantage of your unassuming state and pressed his mouth to yours, tasting your laughter on his tongue until you could only taste his in return. It was a dizzying sort of kiss, his arm still above you and his other curled around your waist.
When he pulled away, he bit his lip around a smirk. "I'll get changed now."
Criminal. Absolutely criminal.
He indeed got changed. And so did you. Apparently, he was being serious about you staying the night, and soon enough, you found yourself buried beneath his covers and swept in his very clingy arms. Not that you were complaining; he smelled nice.
You and Changmin laid facing each other in the darkness of his room. Round spectacles sat awkwardly on his nose bridge since the side of his face was pressed against the pillow, but he said he wouldn't take them off until he was just about to drift off.
"Yn-ie."
"Hm?"
He giggled, turning over and reaching over the side of his bed for something. You were about to question what he was doing until he quite literally shoved his wretched Chucky doll into your face.
"What the flying fuck—" You glared at the toy and its creepy stitched face. You had been startled by it, but you had grown used to it after having to deal with his obsession with the damn thing in the last two years of high school.
Changmin hugged the abomination to his chest as he snickered loudly.
"I thought you got rid of that thing."
"You clearly don't know me well enough."
You began to sit up and make a show of throwing off the covers. "I'm leaving—"
"Wait, wait, wait!" He blubbered, grabbing your upper arm and yanking you back down onto the bed next to him.
He leaned over you, his Chucky doll still tucked in the crook of his arm, as Changmin pouted. The glasses were practically sliding off his nose and his hair was sticking up in the back. What a duality. "I don't want you to leave."
"I'm not cuddling with Chucky, Changmin."
"But—"
"I will go ask Chanhee for an extra blanket."
Changmin's pout contorted into a scowl. "I'll murder him."
You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of this conversation. "I think you need to go to sleep."
He flopped back onto the bed next to you, reluctantly setting Chucky back down on the floor next to the bed where the wretched thing had been hiding this whole time. You suppressed a shiver.
Finally able to breathe easy, you settled back into Changmin's arms. He tucked you against his chest, his chin settled on top of your head. You felt him shift as he took his glasses off and reached behind him to set them on the nightstand.
You were just drifting off to sleep to the melody of his heart beat when: "Yn?"
"Hm?"
His lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I missed you."
You knew what he meant. You pressed a kiss to his chest and heard the shuddering breath that fell from his lips. "I missed you, too."
EPISODE SEVENTEEN (EPILOGUE): [ON OUR TERMS]
THE problem with the restaurant was that it reminded you of something like the word "home". The sign above the door was made with some common font that one could find on Microsoft Word and you were pretty sure they only took cash, too. There was a reason you had chosen this restaurant in particular, and it was because you thought that eating at a place with your comfort foods would, well, comfort you. But you had been staring at the front for a minute or two now, and you weren't sure it was working.
From beside you, you felt someone take your hand in his. "We don't have to go in," said Changmin, his expression blank and reserved as he looked at the eatery, but softened a considerable amount when he looked over at you.
Your mother was waiting for you in there, somewhere. You wanted to finally talk to her—maybe make some peace with yourself. You'd told Changmin about it, and he insisted on coming as moral support.
You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "I can't just not go, Changmin."
His touch was gentle as his thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles, just as gentle as his voice was, "You don't owe her anything, Yn. You deserve an apology from her and you deserve closure, but you don't owe her anything. Not after what she put you through."
You were quiet for a moment and your free hand brushed over the hollow of your throat where the tightening sensation was.
Changmin added, "I'll support whatever decision you come to."
You considered the restaurant again. It had always held a great amount of significance and comfort for you. Did you want to ruin that with a potentially sour conversation? For all you knew, this could end incredibly poorly.
But… there were some things that needed to be done.
You steeled your resolve. "Ready?"
Changmin, all dapper in his dress shirt and pants and styled hair, flashed you a dimpled smile. "Whenever you are."
a/n: wow ... anyways lol thanks for getting through that madness, and hope u enjoyed!! pls do consider reblogging, commenting, or sending an ask to my inbox teehee i would really appreciate it ! now, onto hyunjae's ! >:)
permanent taglist: @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @ethereal-engene @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @kflixnet
taglist: @oi-miya @loveliestfelix @sickvision @jaerisdiction @stealanity @magnificentjudementmoneyhands @inthesunnn @igotkpoopsss @letsnotdoanything @starryjww @sodafy @rreneeeeee @dajanxekiwi @sseastar-main @jenowithjaem @moonyswolf @sleepymoon27 @floatingpluto @fictionlover100 @winterchimez @softie00 @sseuyeon @qkyuscult @hwanunjin @zlebooks @mcu-incorrect @nctzennikki09 @hrt4cheol @moontyuns @quill-ink
#kflixnet#the boyz x reader#ji changmin x reader#changmin x reader#q x reader#the boyz fanfic#the boyz drabble#the boyz fluff#the boyz oneshot#the boyz angst#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#ji changmin oneshots#ji changmin drabbles#changmin imagines#changmin oneshot#changmin fluff#changmin angst#changmin scenarios
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i made a silly little family tree that im gonna go more in detail with
ok so paul and gary 100% brothers
paul is the reserved older one while gary is the more successful annoying younger brother
paul is obsessed with christmad but hates all the musical commercials that come with it
paul also hates that gary watched musicals just to spite him
paul has 2 Christmas trees, one that is plastic inside that he wraps lights around and one tiny little one, think of that charlie brown tree, thats outside and he just sets ornaments next to it because they won't fit on the tree
he has a million inflatable decorations
paul is also richie's legal guardian
gary 100% constantly calls paul bothering him about little things
gary also watched richie a lot whenever paul stayed after work
he is the only attorney in the town and has to run across the courtroom and argue against himself(i stole this from someone else but forgot who)
he loves musicals, he first started watching them in spite of paul but then he grew the love them, his favorite is phantom of the oprah
jerry is a distant cousin to gary and is hated by almost everyone in their family
jerry metions abstinence constantly during family gatherings and everyone is sick of it
jerry also bothers paul wheneve he finally introduces emma to his family about how important it is to be celibate
richie is paul's nephew
richie only realized that gary was his uncle whenever he turned 16 and asked why gary was at every family event
he thought that gary was just a weird friend paul had
he is close to both gary and stopwatch
stopwatch is his cousin on his mom's side
stopwatch liked to hang around a lot before he went into the fighting ring
richie started missing stopwatch and tried to get into contact with him but couldn't for months
when the ring finally shut down stopwatch finally called richie back and they became best friends again(if no one died)
(if richie died) stopwatch would try to get into contact with richie but couldn't and he finally asked paul about it and found out that richie died and he stayed stuck inside for a while not feeling motivated to do anything
richie would try to hide the bullying that he endured from paul but paul found out and comforted richie the best he could by showing that he went through the same thing
richie and paul are autistic while gary has ADHD and they all infodump to each other constantly
when gary found out that richie was getting bullied he tried to use legal action but richie stopped him
also gary and ruth immediately clicked whenever they met each other and are very chaotic friends (both tease the shit out of richie)
this turned into headcanons very fast but oh well
#npmd#gary goldstein#richie lipschitz#nerdy prudes must die#paul matthews#boy jerry#stopwatch#nerdy prudes headcanons#they're all family in my head#a very silly family#the guy who didn't like musicals#black friday
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camera - yang jungwon
“you only love me on camera”
pairing ; yang jungwon x reader
genre ; angst, idol au
warnings ; swearing, very brief slapping
wordcount ; 0.7k
synopsis ; lee y/n and yang jungwon have always been seen as the ‘perfect’ couple in the industry, but whats seen as flawless is only on camera.
read below the cut !
y/n scrolled through the ipad, reading what engenes were saying about the two of them on live. "'you are a great mubank host, im sad your contract is ending soon.' thank you! im sad my contract is ending too. hopefully there will be another chance like this again!" she flashed a genuine smile.
"-'you guys are so cute together', awe thank you!" y/n expressed her gratitude to the camera while reading a comment out loud.
jungwon wrapped an arm around the girl beside him, rubbing her shoulder before checking his phone to read another comment from your fandoms.
"-'will we ever get a vlog of the two of you together?', well we cant say much, but you can expect one coming soon." jungwon replied with a nod.
"well its getting pretty late and we have music bank tomorrow. remember to stream bite me and support us on our latest comeback. bye engenes, love you always!" and with that, jungwon immediately removed his arm from y/n as he cut the cameras.
"i was wondering if we could go out to dinner tonight? maybe talk or even go over the script? just the two of us."
without even looking up from his computer as he responded to emails, jungwon answered y/n by saying, "y/n, you know we arent really together right? its all just a contractual arrangement for my sake, so my group and i can promote." he chuckled.
she gripped her plastic water bottle in slight annoyance and anger. of course she had known, she had always known. she just never wanted to admit to it. being together was purely for publicity, and seeing as they were in front of cameras practically 24/7, it felt all too real for y/n to want to accept it was all only on camera.
"why do you hate me?"
"what kind of question is that? i dont hate you, im just keeping it professional." jungwon mumbled with a slight tone to it.
y/n scoffed.
"so being a dick to me is considered 'being professional' now? youre so nice to all your other female colleagues. why cant you be the same with me?"
she was upset, rightfully so. i mean, she thought she found someone who cared for her even if it were just as a friend, but truthfully, he couldnt even do that in the very least.
jungwon finally looked up from his laptop, drafting the current email he was in the middle of.
he crossed his arms and looked the girl before him in the eyes.
"because youre the only one ive ever been forced to date. and sure, youre pretty but you arent exactly my type. not to mention it was inexplicably sudden."
"i really thought we were bonding, even if it were just as friends. theres nothing wrong with wanting to go out for food. we do so much on camera, so why cant we have fun without it?" y/n argued back, though still slightly offended.
"its all on contract. you read it, you signed it as did i. we both knew what it is we agreed to. so why should that suddenly change just because of however you feel?"
she walked up closer to jungwon, noses almost touching, looking deep into his eyes before whispering then stepping back.
"youre a prick."
there was a loud clap in the air, the sound of y/ns hand colliding with jungwons cheek, more specifically so.
"youre a liar."
another slap to the face.
"and youre nothing but a selfish bastard! did everything we ever shared mean nothing to you? i gave you nothing but my all, i thought what we had was genuine but no, you want to let go of that too!"
"y/n.."
"no! dont 'y/n' me now that im getting mad. you never cared while i was calm. is all it is you expect me to do is just sit there and look pretty? to make you look good because you got the wealthy, pretty girl on your arm?"
"y/n."
tears flowed down her face and she stared at his flushed red cheeks due to the force of her last slap, as well as the emotion that hit him along with it.
"wanna know why i dont give a fuck about the contract? because i loved you, i really did! and i thought you felt the same. but no,"
"now i know. you only love me on camera."'
#jungwon x reader#enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#kpop imagines#yang jungwon x reader#yang jungwon#jungwon scenarios#jungwon imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen jungwon#enhypen imagines#enhypen angst#enhypen oneshots#engene#idol x reader#kpop scenarios#enhypen fic#park sunghoon#niki x reader#heeseung#jake sim#jay enhypen#sunoo#light angst#oneshot#drabble#enhypen smut#jaemified
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ᴛʀɪᴀɴɢʟᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ || ᴄʜᴀɴɢʙɪɴ (sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅs) ɴɪɴᴛʜ!ғ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ
It's a special ferret boys' birthday! And two very special people are dying to give him the most special gift one could receive! But what happens when these two happen to be fated rivals for the ferrets love, and when this special gift suddenly goes missing?
ෆ contents - cursing towards the end, drags on a bit, arguing, fluff, crack?, kinda lazy writing
ෆ word count - 903
ෆ notes - can you tell i ran out of ideas 😭 i really tried my best with this one i swear, its just i dont really know binnie as well as the other members but that doesn't mean i dont love him im ot8 i promise🤞
"When are you going to accept my feelings, Hyunjin-a.." Came the flirtatious words of a certain pig-rabbit. The latter braced himself for what he knew was about to happen. A well aimed plastic water bottle flew across the room and hit Casanova on his shoulder, "Ow! Okay that one was uncalled for, Ai!" The smirking maknae broke into a fit of giggles as she, once again, foiled Changbin's plan for Hyunjin's affections. Ever since Hyun and Ai had been confirmed to be dating, the interactions between the two and Changbin have become comedy gold. As previously mentioned, the rapper does any thing and everything to "flirt" with Hyunjin, from making comments, to romantic gestures, and even preventing other people, including Hyun's own girlfriend from stealing his affections. Obviously this is all a joke, Changbin would never do something so heinous, so Aiko never took is seriously and even bought into the joke. Now the three have become involved in some sort of love triangle.
Outside of fighting for Hyunjin's love, Changbin and Aiko often had small quarrels about other small things, not as much as Ai does with other members, but enough to earn a eyeroll from anyone within earshot. "I thought you had it!" "No! Chan told me you had it!" "Well obviously it's not in my hands, so why do you think I have it?!" "Guys! Arguing about it isn't going to find it!" Another day, another petty kindergarten argument. But it wasn't just a normal day, it was Hyunjin's birthday! And for the ferrets special day, Aiko and Changbin decided to pitch in and get a gift for him from the both of them. An art set that had a lot of supplies Hyunjin had been wanting for his artwork. They had both bought it and decided to give it to Channie to hold onto, because they were aware that one of them would be dumb enough to lose it. And they did.
"Hyunjin's party is in 30 minuets, what are we going to do? Show up with no gift?!" Aiko panicked, she personally didn't like it when things didn't go to plan, especially when it came to the love of her life's birthday. "Well, we'll just go out looking for it! It's not like it grew legs and walk away!" Changbin suggested, hopeful as always. "You're making it sound like that's what it did! Ugh, let's go look where Chan said he put it, it couldn't be far from there." The pair set off to the confined room, desperate to find the gift to prove who loved Hyunjin most once and for all.
While the two desperately searched, Hyunjin had already arrived. "Where's Ai and Changbin?" Hyunjin had asked, noticing the absence of his most valued admirers. "Oh! They're looking for a gi-" "They're looking for something! Don't worry, they'll be here shortly!" Han quickly hushed Chan, persistent on keeping the gift a secret. Hyunjin obviously didn't buy the act but obliged, he turned away and looked around, waiting to see what the two were doing, hoping that they weren't killing eachother in the process.
"Dammit! We're 30 minuets late looking for this cursed ass gift, we should just give up and show up fuckin' empty handed!" Aiko had enough, clearly, and her mouth spoke faster than what her brain could think. As his younger companion cursed angrily to herself in one corner of the room, Changbin searched frivolously, hoping to any God out there that he'd find this gift. Not only for himself, but for both Hyunjin and Aiko. "You don't think Chan hid it.. right?-" Aiko suspected, it was the only other explanation. "No, Chan isn't like that, there has to be another way this happened. The two sat against the wall in silent defeat, wondering what the hell they were going to do. Both had too much humility and guilt to just show up to one of their closest friend's party empty handed. As they sat in self pity, Aiko looked around and noticed pieces of paper and a few markers scattered around the nearby table, had someone.. set this up? "Oppa, I have an idea." Aiko got up to grab the paper from the table. Changbin looked over to see Ai start folding the paper the several ways. It didn't take long for Changbin to realize what she was doing, "Oh my god you're a genius! Let me get some too!" The two giggled to themselves and hurried to make their newest plan.
Downstairs, a certain birthday boy was still waiting for one of his closest friend and love of his life (though one can argue is both of them) make their way to the party that was slowly dying out. Without two of the loudest members there it was left to Han and Felix to keep up the mood. A sudden burst open of a door made everyone jump as the long awaited Dweakki-Cat duo loudly made their way to the party an hour late. "JAGI! LOOK WHAT I MADE FOR YOU! IT WAS MY IDEA!" Aiko exclaimed as she showed Hyunjin what she did, before being shoved aside by her more stronger older brother, "Nonsense! Mine are clearly more expertly crafted!- Ow!-" Changbin yelped as Aiko kicked him from below. As the two once again started they're usual banter, a fond smile was placed on Hyunjin's face, They had made him paper hearts.
©straykidsaiko
Always keep in mind that nothing in this series and in my posts are real! So anything that may seem 'out of character' should be considered as part of a fake universe! <3
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
#fake kpop oc#female addition#kpop added member#skz addition#skz female addition#skz female member#stray kids 9th member#stray kids added member#stray kids scenarios#fake kpop idol#changbin#seo changbin#changbin x reader#changbin x you#stray kids changbin#binnie
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