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#why don’t u guys like angst huh??
sunoksunny · 1 year
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HELLO???? IVE ONLY BEEN HERE A MONTH?? THANK YOU GUYS😭🫶🏻🫶🏻
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moralesluvr · 10 months
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𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
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୧ ‧₊˚ arguing with your boyfriend, miles, was always your least favorite thing. but when he accidentally raises his voice at you, accusing you of something you’re not, he'll do anything to make it up to you. so, he decides to come to your work. pairings & aus. earth42!miles morales x fem!black!reader warnings. angst | established relationship | fluff at the end | arguing | slight toxicity | arguing | reader owns a cafe author's note. changed the aesthetic of my posts!
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"MAMI, PLEASE, IAN MEAN IT LIKE THAT."
The way your glossy eyes roll to the back of your head only further induce your oncoming headache, but you don’t care. Something about your boyfriend elevating his tone at you made you crumble, brown irises boring into his own as he pleaded for you to listen.
You hear him breathe softly, and then he picks at the calloused skin of his thumb as his mouth contorts into an almost-pout. It’s apologetic, you think— by the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his face somberly melts into a softer expression, contrasted to his normal stoic one. But his look isn’t enough. You want something verbal, something pleading, something so desperate for your forgiveness that it’ll be inevitable for your answer to be ‘Yes, Miles, you didn’t do anything wrong and I would love for us to be back to normal.’
But that’s not what you were getting.
Instead, he had yelled at you, and not just a normal yell, one that he would normally let out if you were pestering him or were about to run into an unknown danger. No— this yell was authentic and real, raw, on purpose. And his lips still couldn’t find themselves to say that he were sorry.
The argument wasn’t even your fault, and Miles had told you so, therefore it was verified that you weren’t in the wrong and that it was just some huge misunderstanding. Your phone had been left unlocked on the kitchen counter, and Miles being Miles, he picked the device up and snapped a couple of stupid pictures when he saw a notification pop up.
malachi: Yo u still wit yo man? I was thinking we go get sum to eat. Lmk!
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the message wasn’t from another girl, it was from a man. So he angrily swiped the device up and waltzed up to you, waving the florescent screen back in forth in your face, accusing you of cheating.
“YN, what the fuck? Why you tryna go out with this nigga, huh? He hittin’ it or sum’? Shoulda known you had me buyin’ them lil’ dresses for other reasons.”
Your shoulders dropped at him, tears clouding your unfocused vision as Miles’ words circulated in your head, swarming your conscience with emotions that you were unable to decipher yourself.
“Mami—“
“Don’t call me that.” You seethed, “It’s not what you called me when you was accusin’ me of lyin’ and cheatin’, right?”
“Ay, Dios Mío.” Miles mumbled, his footsteps filling your ears as he drew closer to you. He wanted to reach out to you, to pull you close and kiss your cheeks, but he just stood idly in front of you as he watched you cry.
It was almost like he was stuck. Guilt, maybe?
But either way, the effort was still vacant. His actions weren’t just mundane, he was shaking your phone at you angrily, spit flying and hands snapping as he tried to grab ahold of the messy situation. And what he realized what he had done, his mouth ran dry, eyes fluttering closed as he cursed underneath his breath.
What he didn’t know was that you were speaking to your friend’s boyfriend, and when he said ‘we’— he meant the four of you, Miles included. He was trying to set up a double date at a restaurant and wanted to confirm if you were with Miles to insure that you guys were on.
A stupid mistake.
A mistake so ignorant that it drove you to raise your hand at him, withdrawing it before slapping him on the cheek, hard. The sting that blossomed throughout your hand spoke of triumph, that he truly got what deserved, and your lips nearly curled into a smile when you heard him wince in pain.
You didn’t want him hurt, you just wanted him to understand what happens when you assume stupid shit. He turned around slowly to look at you, left hand massaging the flesh of his cheek as he gave you apologetic eyes.
It all feels like an emotional whiplash now.
“Get out.”
You finally spoke, lips trembling and hands balling at your sides so tight you were sure your fingers would snap.
“Baby, please, can we just talk about this?”
“Get the fuck out, Miles!” You shouted at him, body forcefully colliding with his as your hands met his shoulders, pushing him into the woodwork of your front door. He opens it without hesitation, fingers curling around the doorknob shakily as he walked through the doorway.
You hold the door and shove him, your boyfriend stumbling down the porch steps as you cock your head to the side,
“And don’t come back.”
With that, you slam the door.
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It’s been three days since you’ve seen your boyfriend.
Which is extremely out of the ordinary.
He’s texted you numerous times, your phone nearly exploding from how often it rang with new texts or phone calls. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, Miles’ words still prodding at your heart strings as you tried to go on about your morning.
Your bright pink polo slides it’s way over your head, thick curls bouncing against your shoulders as you smoothed out a tiny wrinkle at the collar, eyes picking apart your outfit in the mirror.
A flick of your wrist tells you that you’re nearly late for work, so you swipe up your phone and purse and make your way outside, strutting to your car as you drove to your shop.
You opened your own pink themed, healthy cafe a couple months before you and Miles started dating. It was a real hotspot— business booming more than ever in the hot, humid summer of Brooklyn. People mostly ordered juice or açaí bowls, which you didn’t mind because it was your personal favorite on the menu and you recommended it to anyone who waltzed into your shop.
Pulling up, you stepped out of your vehicle and opened the door, greeting your employees with a flutter of your fingers and a superficial smile painted on your face. You were broken on the inside and it was a fact that even you couldn’t deny, and no amount of concealer and fake grins could conceal that.
“Everything OK, girl?” One of your employees chirped at you over the loud sound of a blender. And you just shrugged at her, faux smile still possessive over your lips, persuasion eventually casting her spell on your favorite girls as you covered your sadness up with ‘I’m just tired.’
Opening was running smoothly, and you were calming working register when you heard the sweet bells above your front door chime.
“Welcome i-“
Your sentence fades, dying off as you see your boyfriend walk through the door, walking up to the counter that you were standing behind.
“Can I get a matcha and that toast with the…what is that…the green shit on it?”
You grit your teeth at him, “Miles, what the hell are you doing here?”
He didn’t say anything, he just grabbed your hands and squeezed them, “Baby, I know you don’t really wanna see me here, but I need to say sum’, and it’s that I’m sorry. Ian mean what I said, I was dumb, jumpin’ to conclusions and shit. That’s not okay. You my girl and there’s no reason why I was treatin’ you like that. I’m…mami, I’m sorry.”
Miles stares at you, waiting for your rebuttal to his formal apology. No matter how much you wanted to be mad at him in this moment and hold out, you couldn’t by the way his eyes flickered at you, licking his lips as he shot you an apologetic smile.
“Miles….” You started, “What you said really hurt me, I can’t lie to you. But…despite all of that, I forgive you. And y’know, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you or nun’ like that. I was just…angry.”
“Understand.” Miles told you, kissing your hand as he gave you a cheeky grin, “I love you, pretty girl.”
“I love you too, asshole.” You giggled as your boyfriend leaned over the counter to deliver a kiss to your cheek, a couple of your coworkers giggling behind the counters, but you didn’t care. You were just ecstatic that you had made up, a laugh tumbling from your throat.
“Y’know, Miles…” You started, earning a hum from your lover.
“I just want you to know, although you be actin’ hard…you’re actually soft as shit.”
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tags!: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks // @art-598
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ofjunemoment · 1 year
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let me teach you how to smash | park jisung
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In the list of sports, ranked from most to least sexy, badminton would be found at the very bottom if not ranked last. But why is it that when Jisung plays the with a feathered shuttle your heart flutters? 
 OR: Jisung helps you improve your badminton skills. 
 pairing — badminton player!jisung x fem!reader 
 genre — sports!au, university!au, (one sided) enemies to friends to lovers, slight slow burn 
 wc — 22k (😀 huh)
content — university/sports class setting, humour, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst,  idols mentioned, very heavy on the dialogue/backstory at one point sorry babies <3, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
smut tags — making out, fingering, switch!jisung and reader (there's no strong dynamic tbh), protected sex, pet names (jisung gets called a good boy), lmk if I missed anything!
 a/n — YAYYY i can finally share this with u guys!! i have been cooking this for some time and im actually so excited to release it!! I'm a badminton enthusiast so I went a bit ham on the descriptions and back story sorry (not rlly),, I hope this is a good readdd I read through it so much to fix it up and now Im a bit sick of it oops BUT its a story I've been wanting to write so here you go <3 enjoy!
sfw version here!
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You enjoy sports. 
You liked dancing sometimes — which is certainly a type of sport  — and you dabbled with different sports at one point in school, but you don’t actively go out of your way to do any intense exercise. It can be sweaty and painful and maybe it’s a little like hitting the gym, but in most sports you need sportsmanship, and why would you be kind to the person who not only won but is rubbing it in your face? 
You once yelled at Taeyong for kicking the ball in the wrong goal when your group of friends went out of their way to play makeshift soccer to bring back memories. You yelled, at precious Taeyong, who flinches at the sight of a fly
Okay, so you tolerate sports.
But in an effort to have your resume look pretty after finishing your degree, your friend Juda had shed light on this one program that has you do a bunch of extracurricular activities and in turn, you’ll gain extra credit. Seamless and effortless, you didn’t need to pay anything towards the program as most of the work was volunteering; like reading to kids or helping clean up lecture rooms now and then. What Juda failed to mention was the other extracurricular required of you, which was to go to a sporting class set up by the university.
Sporting classes; two hours a week minimum.
They were kind enough to provide you with options, but it still wasn't easy to choose whether you wanted two whole hours of HIIT fitness or football, which caused you to almost give up on the whole thing. Until you saw the word ‘badminton’ printed in the faintest ink, almost as if it was a mistake.
So here you are, in the campus’ sports equipment shop with Chenle, looking through what seems like badminton rackets.
“Do you think this is good?” You pick up a racket that has a mix of matte white and mint around the frame, with the string sporting the shade black, testing the weight in your hand. 
“That’s a tennis racket stupid.” He goes to ruffle your hair but instead gets his hand slapped away and a frown etched on his face as you scoff at him. “I knew that,”  You scowl.
“Well then don’t be an asshole about it, asshole.”
“I wasn’t being—” Both of you jump at a sudden sound that pitched in between your shoulders, as your hand flies to your chest in shock while Chenle’s eyebrow hitch up.
“Sorry?” It was Chenle who said that to the person who snuck up behind you two, his arms crossing defensively and landing on his left chest, as he positions himself subtly a little closer to you, almost as if he’s instinctively shielding him.
“Ah, sorry for surprising you; I just came to ask if you guys needed help with anything?” It was when the employee raised her ID card that was hanging on a white lanyard around her neck that Chenle’s defence began to soften as you brought your hand down, replacing the confused look on your faces with one of realisation.
“Ahh, uhm, I was wondering if you could recommend a badminton racket, nothing too fancy, maybe something to last a good two years.”
“Two years?” Chenle was the one that turned to you with a look of disbelief. The employee merely smiled and gestured her hands towards the very other side of the store and quickly turned to guide you.
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“Hold on, you’re doing this stupid thing for two years? Half of your courses years? You’re just gonna voluntarily stress yourself with even more work?”
“ . . . Yes? I don’t know what to tell you, that’s my main intention. That’s why I joined this program. You’ve asked me multiple times like I’m going to miraculously change my mind and thank you for it like you’re a rich person, giving me, a homeless person, a piece of bread and then barely look at me as you record the whole thing for your livestream.” You huff while going to lie down on your back on the floor around your newly bought badminton equipment; a set of badminton rackets and some cylinder packets full of shuttlecocks, the feather ones because the plastic ones suck ass, the employee had smiled at you.
You sit up just as quickly as a dull pain shoots up your back. The motherfucking shuttlecocks.
“That’s one way to make up an analogy,” Chenle’s eyes land on the shuttlecock you had freshly crushed, now looking all squashed and disoriented. Poor thing didn’t even last a minute.
“What’s she moping about this time?” Juda’s voice echoed from the door as she places the tote bag she had brought down next to the shoe shelf.
“I’m not moping; I never mope. What do I even look like when I mope?”
“She’s just crying about the fact that she has to do this thing program for another two years.” His words elicit a shout and the gradual flinging of a nearby couch pillow from you. Chenle’s neck cracked as the pillow hit his head downwards.
“Did I kill him yet,” You voiced your disinterest, sitting up on your elbows briefly to analyse Chenle’s face before giving up and laying back down. Chenle stayed in that position for a while before getting up in a fury, ready to avenge you. Juda stopped him with a kick to his leg. 
“Such disrespectful words, is it hard to show some courtesy around here?” You huff and go to lie down once more, not before feeling around the surface for any stray shuttlecock.
“When it comes to you, yes,” Juda throws Chenle a Yakult, and she flings you one straight at your stomach. You attempt not to flinch.
“Here’s to either two more years of moping about this stupid badminton class every week, or two months of hardcore whining from both of you until you break and drop out.” Juda raises her Yakult bottle and clinks it with yours — that’s still on your stomach — and against Chenle’s who was drinking out of it the moment she did so, spilling what little there was of it on his face. Chenle recovers and yells out offensively, causing Juda to squeal as she stands up and goes behind the couch, using it as her shield. 
You inhale and try to tune them out.
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Chenle smiles as you giggle at him, the loud music of EDM mixed with Kidz bop playing in the background as the sound of metal basketball hoop clanging echoes just enough for it to have a rhythm. He looks determined to beat the high score of this stupid basketball game, as Juda and you take turns watching him play the game and criticising his moves, even when none of you know much about basketball as he does. It’s been a few weeks since the start of the semester and hence, the beginning of your program. The kids you read to are either sleepy or disinterested as you start early in the morning, and the cleaning of lecture rooms is bearable at most times. 
So things are going great at this point.
That was until Chenle called out to you: “How’s badminton going?” and, you’re not gonna lie, that did dampen your mood just by a bit, but you give your best attempt at masking it and smiling through; you didn’t want them to pick up on the fact that it’s been one lesson and you’re already sick and tired of it (or, at least sick and tired of one certain person). But Juda’s just too smart and catches on too easily with anything that you and Chenle try to brush under the rug. She raises one eyebrow at you before retorting: “What, are you whinging about it already?”
“Am not!”
“Then what is it?” Juda says at the same time that Chenle swears, a little too loud for a kids arcade, but it’s around 8 PM and the only kids that are here probably do some sort of drug or something if they have parents who allow them to be out this late.
“Nothing, okay? The coach is great and the other people who are there are fine too, and I actually learnt a lot —”
“But?” Juda’s lips are pink as she wraps them around a straw poking out from her slushie cup. You lean back in retaliation, back pressed against the basketball machine as you try to find a leeway.
“. . . But.”
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You’re late. And you can’t even use the excuse that you woke up late because it’s seven p.m. and you’ve scoffed down your early dinner two hours ago. You simply decided to just procrastinate to the next level in an attempt to gauge if you truly want to continue with this program or not. But now here you are, on a bus that’s severely delayed due to the evening traffic and running frantically to make it to class on time.
Minkyung is a 50-year-old dad who coaches this class; he was also at the office where you had submitted your form for the program, and was over the moon that you had decided to try out his class, hence asking you questions about your knowledge of badminton, and went on this spiel when you had made the mistake of being truthful. 
He now looks at you with a kind and wrinkly smile as your shoes squeak against the floor, one hand to your rib in an attempt to not show how much out of breath you were. “Don’t worry,” his voice was quiet enough for you to register only. “You arrived on time, I just finished the information briefing that you heard from me some time ago.” His smile was tight-lipped but genuine. Trying to even out your breathing, you set down your equipment and quickly join the rest in a circle. A clap echoes throughout the quiet hall as the coach drops his hands and clears his throat while letting out a puff of air, his eyes grazing by everyone’s heads in what you assume to be his way of counting the participants of the class.
“Glad to have everyone here today, I hope with this class you guys would not only learn about badminton but also be able to learn about its sportsmanship and benefits,” His eyes dart around the rather small circle. You expected the hall to be filled with as many students as that one Zumba class you were forced to attend in high school, but it was a rather tame class. 
The coach hums, thinking about something deeply as the other students shuffle around, shifting their weight from side to side in the silence engulfing the court. He looked up and clapped again softer this time. “I’ve decided to treat you like my children’s class.” He concluded, “I want you guys to introduce yourself to each other. Now don’t be shy; everyone's new in this class. Maybe you can find a friend in this class to learn better and more quicker. Okay, let’s start with you.” He pointed towards a guy that was to his left, who looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked around and smiled sheepishly yet brightly. “My name’s Haechan, and uh, I’m 22?” He finished it off with bound lips as he refers to the person after him to begin. 
And as you all finish introducing yourselves to each other, with a girl named Minji being last, the introductory circle ends, meaning the coach can now start the stretching and warm-up exercises. But he hasn’t. 
“Uh, coach, are we gonna—?” Minji stopped halfway as the coach whips his head to look at the gigantic clock on the wall next to the hall’s equally huge entrance. You crane your head curiously towards the direction of his vision, straining both your ears and vision to see what he was looking for, as everyone around you catches on and seems to do the same. It isn’t long after till the squeaking of shoes against the rubber ground echoes throughout; soon enough, the coach screams ‘fourteen minutes!’ as another person steps into the hall, wide eyes darting around everyone as he swallows in an attempt to simmer down his erratic breathing. As the guy's breathing evens out enough for him to probably mutter an apology, your breathing picks up.
“First day and you’ve already fallen for someone? Very on brand for you,”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” You scramble to hit Chenle with his golden pokemon card folder he brought to the arcade. Juda calmly stops you using her right hand, as her left hand picks up her drink to take another sip from. 
“She didn’t even finish her story, Chenle. Go on,” Juda set her slushy down as her grip loosens from around your wrist, signalling to continue the story.
“Thank you, Juda, for you’re my favourite of them all—”
“Are you gonna finish your story?” Her grip tightened.
“A-as I was saying,”
You like to analyse people to some extent, thinking about how body language is cool and how it can depict everyone's different life, contrasting drastically from one another yet sometimes being so similar even with all of our different circumstances. This is why you tried analysing everyone in your class of busy people attempting to hit the shuttlecock in a streak longer than ten, as your eye flitting around the court and landing on your next target, the new guy, simply because that’s in your nature.
(“In your nature? Or was it just the mysterious guy that came into the class so suddenly, panting and out of bre—“
“Shut up? Anyway,” )
“Ah Jisung, this is the latest you’ve been,” The coach nodded innocently towards the guy, as if he hadn’t scared the piss out of all of you when he shouted.
He’s a bit stiff with his walk, and his shoulders seem to harden like a board when his eyes scan around the class and its participants. With wide eyes, he looks like a lost puppy with the way he looks back at the coach in some sort of silent confirmation of something. It’s probably his first time having a general class with coach Minkyung, you realise as you see Jisung bow sheepishly to his teacher.
“Sorry,” his voice was hushed, rumbling as he talked. His eyes scanned briefly once again across the now sparked class doing forehand and backhand practices that the teacher has instructed them to do. You locked eye contact with him from afar and quickly looked away, ears feeling a little bit hotter than it was a second before.
Soojin leans in towards you and Ryujin a bit and whispers, “Do you think he’s new? Like . . . All of us?”
You and Ryujin glance at each other for a quick second, before you smile profusely as Ryujin places her hands on the pole that holds the badminton net, her racket clenched fist supporting her chin as she ponders. “Not at all.” She says rather flatly, a cheeky smile following up after. Solely looking at him doesn’t give you any insights on his level of badminton playing, which is weird, because till now he could pick up on some people's skills; you’ve so far guessed correctly with a few of the participants (including yourself, you think you’re an average player in this class) so you feel a bit stumped. 
He stands stiff as he talks to the coach, keeping his gaze stern on his coach. He seems to be wearing normal trackies and only has a very slim back for his racket. 
“He’s obviously a beginner, his bag is so thin compared to Coach and even Haechan, he also doesn’t look like a long-time player” Jaemin pipes in.
“Who are you to say? You said you’ve been playing for how long and you’re still this bad?” Soojin smiles as she dodges Jaemin’s hand by a fraction. But Ryujin isn’t having any of it as she breathes in with her teeth clenched, hissing out a sound of suspicion.
“Coach seems to know him, which makes me think he’s either been here before, or he’s just the coach's nepotism offspring.”
“Okay!” The coach claps his hand, forcing everyone to act like they were practising. “Gather around; we’re gonna do a basic skills test for this lesson, then I’m gonna split you up into groups and we’ll get to work with the people with the same skills. Cool?” He throws two thumbs up as everyone stays silent, with one of the two people nodding. You watch as he sees the coach's enthusiasm die down a little.
“Cool?” The coach had yelled now, startling everyone else in the second round of heart attacks; everyone else yell back this time, the word ‘cool’ echoing around the grand sports court. You notice that everyone’s responded to the coach's request except for Jisung.
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“Oh girl . . .” Juda now has her manicured hand placed on your sulked shoulder of realisation.
“I know, I’m so sorry, Juda.” You look into the distance of the arcade, feigning sorrow; or maybe it’s not much of a feign.
“The fuck,” Chenle turns to see both of you huddled in what looks like a cry fest. “Did someone fucking die?”
“Watch your tongue,” An old woman wearing a neon orange vest belonging to the arcade staff points at Chenle, who bows down as he murmurs ‘sorry’, with you two trying your best not to laugh, following and bowing your heads down too when the seething woman’s eyes meet your figures.
“How dare you anger the poor lady, her blood pressure is probably already high enough,” Juda picks at Chenle, who is now quietly trying to slip in the token to play another round.
“I wouldn’t have if you guys didn’t just suddenly go emo for no reason. What the f—” Chenle’s eyes waver back and see the woman’s eyes (Are they naturally red? Or is it the arcade lighting?) glaring back at him once more. “Frick. What the frick happened.”
“Oh Chenle, we must mourn for her. She’s fallen for another mysterious guy who barely has any personality.” 
“Oh my god,”
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“Oh my fucking god, what—”
“Fuck,” Jisung sighed when he missed the shuttlecock by just a hair's width. Everyone was standing in a line-like formation, at the tip of their toes against the line that made the distinction between the playing court and outside. Jisung and the coach were having a match, the first test that the coach had implemented to determine who goes into what group according to their skills, and when no one volunteered, Jisung silently centred himself on the court as the coach's face broke out into a glow. 
Although his face was adorned with wrinkles even when still, and his skin did seem to look just a smidge pruney all the time — the I’m growing old look he had on his face was impossible to miss — the coach’s never looked sharper and younger than he does now, zipping through his side of the court like a bees race. Jisung on the other hand, seems to have a calm demeanour, quietly and tranquilly stepping forward and back, delivering lobs and clears, limbs outstretched to effortlessly hit the shuttlecock back even if it seems that his position doesn’t allow such moves. 
In the cold of Autumn, the stiffness of everyone's bodies was just the tiniest bit evident after a round of stretching, but two right in front of you look as if they’re playing in the heat of the summer, arms and legs effortlessly moving around the court. You try not to look too intently into the thin glisten of sweat forming on Jisung's neck.
Soojin raises her hand without taking her eyes off of the two people playing intensively in front of her, as Jaemin reaches in his pockets to place ten thousand won into her open palm, not letting his gaze wander away from the game either. “Thank you for your service.”
“I can’t believe he’s that good, I should’ve known from his cocky demeanour.” Haechan sighs, his fist resting against his cheek, hoisted up by his other hand. Everyone looks in his direction.
“You would think that it takes one to know one,” Minji almost barely whispers as she looks away from him by her side, looking back at the game with everyone else following. 
“Ah, fine. You won.” Coach drops his racket down from its first stage position, going towards the net with an open palm. Jisung barely takes a step forward before he’s lifting his hand too, shaking hands over the net as everyone claps behind them.
“Okay then, who’s next?”
You spend half the lesson just like that, with everyone playing against the coach followed by him then instructing everyone to get into the key badminton positions. You suspect that this is the core of learning badminton as the coach guides you from the way you hold your racket to the way your feet are positioned, but all you’re really thinking about right now is how badly you just want to go home.
“Okay!” The coach claps, as people gather around him in a semi-breathless state, just from being told to carry out a few sets of actions that badminton has. You don’t know why badminton necessarily needs ladder crossovers, but you barely get to give out a sigh before your eyes catch on Jisung’s seemingly calm composure. He’s done so much and maybe even a round extra, but he’s barely breaking a sweat.
Why does he look so good? Show off.
“Believe it or not, we’re done already! I now have an understanding of what level each one of you is in and will put you into groups.” You keep trying to wipe at your face to keep the sweat away, but an even coat of sweat is now settled on your hand after wiping it many times, so it only feels like you’re spreading it evenly. 
All while mysterious Jisung barely lifts his shoulder to have the cloth of his shirt wipe away the bead at his temple. 
How utterly gross of him. You wonder if he’s single.
“So I will see you all next week and give your level, thanks for joining!” And everyone disperses, spreading around the hall to get to their bags and start packing. You are standing above your bag, packing it and taking your bottle out to take a sip when you see Minji and Soojin whisper shouting, which defeats the whole point of whispering in the first place.
“How much do you wanna guess that he eats and sleeps here?” Soojin is practically bouncing in her place, taking multiple obvious glances at Jisung’s figure, who’s seemingly roaming around in his bag instead of packing it like everyone else, his racket placed neatly on top of his bag instead of inside.
“Nothing, because at this point it almost seems like a fact.” And with that, you shoulder your bag and head for the door, too tired to function.
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“And you have no muscle aches? Impressive.” Juda pipes, her eyes glued to the road as she drives them back home.
“Oh no, I do. I just plastered a few KT tapes.” You say from your position in the passenger seat, elbow resting against the rolled-down window with your hand against your forehead, getting a nice breather from the wind outside. Chenle who’s sitting in the middle reaches his hand forward and pulls your sleeve up from behind to reveal your arm and shoulder lined up with tapes of blue and green. 
“A few huh,” Juda smiles and Chenle retorts, as you tch at them both. 
“I didn’t want to risk it, okay?” You say, yanking the cloth back down and slapping at Chenle’s hand, facing forward once again with your hands crossed defensively and gaze set outside again. The car lights up in the yellow of the street lights, as Juda drives through the night. 
“So when’s your next class?”
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“And group A has . . . Jisung. Just Jisung”
“No, bad dog. Stop taking your anger out on Chenle’s biceps,” Juda attempted half-assedly to swat at your hands while her eyes were still glued to her phone, as you retell what happens with your next class.
“It hurts, Juda. Make her stop!”
You were furious. Group C? You knew you were better than that, having played almost every other sport growing up, even if occasionally, you’d gotta be good at badminton. Why is Jisung the only one in group A? Yes, fine, maybe he plays well, but it also means that you’ve been ranked down a group just because he was too perfect. Why does he attend the class if he’s already so good?
Subconsciously, you try to convince yourself to not take this whole grouping thing quite literally, as the coach had said that they’re not ranked or anything; but how can you not take it personally when the people you thought you were on par with were in group B. It takes all of your willpower for your scowl to not be displayed, but you soon find that you don’t have to try too hard as the coach assigns you all to your positions.
“Lighter on the feet,” Coach ordered, the squeak of shoe soles rubbing against the floor echoing throughout the sports hall. You, Soojin, Jaemin and Minji go through what the coach calls fundamental steps; right foot northeast with a forehand flick, right foot northwest with a backhand flick. It helps with the basics of the game, which everyone forgets, but you don’t think half an hour of the same steps helps with remembering either.
While group B, which consists of Haechan and Ryujin, go through the same phases with some extra steps added to strengthen their posture while playing. It’s not that you think your play better than the people in your group or group B, but mainly your irrational annoyance stems from the fact that you’re position in the class is gonna be recorded into your progress report, and you know for a fact that if Jisung wouldn’t be participating this dead class, you would be in group B. Yes, it’s still the last group out of two, but you can say that you’re merely ranked second. Instead, you’re last out of three.
As the steps turn repetitive, you let your eyes wander around mindlessly, your feet carrying you throughout as your hands attempt to do the actions in a somewhat muscle memory process. Your gaze eventually settles on Jisung, whose back is facing you as he smacks the shuttlecock against the wall, which bounces back only for him to smack at it again, repeating this one-man game he seems to have made up for himself. You glare lasers into his back, thinking about how maybe you’re not into this whole mysterious demeanour as you thought you were, seeing him just making up his own moves as the coach merely bounces back between the two of your groups, only checking in on Jisung after a few rounds of lecturing your moves and correcting your mistakes. 
Three consecutive claps echo around the tall indoor court, as everyone drops their rackets at their bags and gather around the coach in a circle, somewhat holding some sort of formation with Ryujin to his right and Jisung to his left, and with you positioned almost opposite of him. “Good job everyone, now it’s time to cool down, exactly how we warmed up,” Clueless, most of you follow the coach’s steps while he urges each person to take turns counting, counting up to eight in a clockwise direction. Your eyes can’t stop fleeting to Jisung, the star of every badminton night, as your petty envy prevents you from minding your own business. Throughout the whole night, you’ve seen him take only warming up and cooling down somewhat seriously, as he crosses his arms and holds up a good posture, compared to the rest of the class who simply just slump over, wanting the session to end and finally catch a break. 
One final clap and you’re all free to go. And you don’t waste a second, grabbing all your essentials and bag and quickly darting for the door, ready to go home and wash up and just not support your whole body weight on your feet. As you bid everyone goodbye and bow your head lightly to the coach, you watch as Jisung strides up to the coach in a meek manner, as his eyes fall on your retreating figure just slightly before softly calling out the coach's name. 
It’s nine p.m. on the dot when you step out of the court and breathe in the cold air.
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Juda’s on the couch when you step into the apartment, toeing off your sports shoes as you rest your badminton bag against the shoe shelf, at hand for your next trip to your class. 
With a mouth full of chips, Juda barely takes her eyes off the screen before asking “How was class?”
“Same old,” You shrug.
“Same old? You’ve only been twice. How in tune are you with the coach for it to—” Your groan stops her teasing, as she smirks at your tired form squatting against the floor, hands clutching at the door and your hair in frustration.
“Could you have at least let me get home first before frying my brain?” Your hand falls to your face, and that’s when you feel the residue of your sweat from earlier, having turned into oil. The urge to shower now tenfold, you attempt to raise yourself and pass out in the shower.
“I’m gonna wash up now, and probably go to sleep,” You mutter just loud enough for Juda to hear, to which she hums while you retrieve a towel.
“Oh wait, before you go,” She calls just as you inch towards your room, “Do you know where my umbrella went? I’m going to campus tomorrow and I think it’s gonna rain again. I tried calling you but I don’t think it went through,” 
“Oh yeah, It’s by the door.” You recall taking the umbrella to class today, as the forecast has been filled with rain symbols with the Autumn weather. Digging in your bag, you push past your essentials in order to find your phone which Juda’s called. “That’s weird, my phone is not here.”
“Did you take it with you today?” Juda mumbles as she munches on a few more chips, rubbing her fingers against her pants after every serving. 
“I’m sure I did,” You ponder out loud, as you remove your hands from your bag in favour of patting at your pants and jacket resting on the clothing hanger, in case you somehow shoved it in your pockets without knowing.
“Did you forget it?” As soon as the words leave your roommate's mouth, you are met with a vivid picture of your phone, abandoned on the bench in the badminton court you left in a hurry. You sigh, placing your towel on the bathroom counter briefly before grabbing your house keys while putting your shoes on.
“I’ll be back Juda,”
“Good luck,” She waves.
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You’re beyond tired, and a little frustrated at yourself for being impatient and forgetting your phone. You can’t risk losing such a thing, hence you’re glad that the lights were still on when you arrived at the building, giving a wave to the receptionist. 
Stepping onto the court, you immediately zero in on your phone which is perched on the bench, the black shade of the screen a contrast against the silver metal bar. But a squeak of a sole against the floor earns a squeal out of your mid-march, as you clutch your shirt next to your heart and turn towards the perpetrator.
“Oh my god,” Jisung’s gaze is what you’re met with as you let out a sigh of relief, the man in question only turning around as you mutter under your breath. 
“Sorry,” That’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all day, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that calms your heart down just a bit.
“What are you still doing here?” Your curiosity gets the best of you, your forgotten phone laying there, continuing to be overlooked as you question the presence of your classmate.
His eyes squint ever so slightly at your question, as his eyes ghost over you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “I’m practising,”
Practising? After two hours of badminton class, he didn’t seem like he did much then, but he’s still staying back to practice. You hum in slight adulation, rocking back and forth on your feet as he turns back around and runs through steps you’re unfamiliar with. As you inch towards your phone, you think more about his prominent presence in the court; is he too shy in class? Or maybe he gets private classes from the coach?
But as you scan your eyes around the court, you’re met with a near-empty court, as the only thing in sight is his bottle and slim bag. You’re not sure exactly what you’re waiting for as you hold onto your phone, fidgeting on your spot as your eyes follow Jisung’s swift movements. He seems more tired now than he ever was in the two classes you’ve shared with him, as his shoulders ride up more with an attempt of regaining stability with his breaths.
You’re not sure how long you’ve loitered around, but it must be a long amount of time for Jisung to look at you with disdain and shock.
“. . . Why are you still here?” He seems more reserved — something you didn’t know could happen — as he asks you this question, holding his racket subconsciously closer to his body. Your eyes widen at the prospect of being caught, as you shake your hands vehemently, stumbling back a bit. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t—” You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself, but one glance at the door of the court is all you need.
Bowing your head as quickly as you can in a lieu of a goodbye, Jisung could barely apprehend what you did before you’re bolting out of the badminton court.
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A week later, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to face Jisung with your awkward encounter, and it is evident that the incident has been plaguing your mind as you stand at the door of the sports centre, both hands gripping the strap do your bag. 
“What if he thinks I’m a weirdo for just standing there and stalking him?” Your wandering mind does nothing to help ease the situation, as more arbitrary scenarios flow after one another. Maybe he told the coach how much of a creep you are and now when you step in, you’ll be banned from class.
“Oh dear god,” You let your head fall forwards, trying to tip over the thought out of your head. Closing your eyes, you try to think of the things you can do once the class is over when a tap on your shoulder brings you out of your reverie. You turn to look behind your shoulder, fearing that it's someone robbing you or worse— Jisung; only to see coach Son, smiling at you with a hint of worry laced on his forehead. 
Your shoulders sag with relief. “Hi coach,” you wince internally at your response, voice coming out high-pitched as you clench your grip on your bag. 
“Let's go in and start some warm-ups, yeah?” And as you follow the coach to the class, you make sure to subtly hide behind him in case you catch s glimpse of Jisung anywhere, not wanting to run into him. As you quietly peek your head over his right shoulder once and his left shoulder next, you feel like a secret agent sneaking up on your target. A clearing of someone's throat snaps you out of your act, as your shoulders bunch up and in shock and you quickly turn, only to be met with the feared man of the night.
It seems like he’s been trying to go up to the coach and maybe say hi, but your lurking figure both stopped and perplexed him, not knowing why you were just peeking your head around like a mole rat.
“Sorry,” You mumble slightly, eyes wide as you back away towards the closest wall, wanting to blend into it and live with the bricks. Maybe you’ll face less embarrassment that way but knowing you, anything is possible.
“It’s okay,” His voice is as unassuming as always, eyes looking anywhere but you now that he’s caught your attention. You think his shyness is quite cute, but not for long as you think back to being scared of him from last week to being jealous of him, also from last week. That’s a lot of emotion for you to process. 
He pulls up his hands, now shaped into a fist and looks past you, but you know he’s talking to you when he mutters, “Fighting,” before fully facing away and walking past you as if the mortification of his action has caught up to him. You barely contain your shocked expression behind your hand.
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“Good job today guys, now we all have a basic grasp of the initial steps and our skills when it comes to badminton.” You brace your hands on your knees, just having done a set of wall squats as a way to build stamina, or so you’ve been told. You thought that maybe a month into these classes and you would’ve had some sort of energy stashed away in you when attending class, but it’s week five and you’re fighting for your life three seconds into a plank.
“Now I don’t wanna treat this class academically, but for those of you who truly care, there will be an assessment in the midst of this course to reevaluate your standing and see if you can advance from your group! But other than that, remember that this class can be solely for fun reasons too . . .” The rest of coach's words were white noise to your ears. Reevaluation? Does that mean that you can advance? That you’ll have a shot? 
“Are you okay?” Soojin leans in toward you, whispering while pointing to what you assume would be the shock on your face. You turn to her, drawing a thumbs up to reassure her. And before you know it class is done and you’re pulled to do a series of cool-down moves. You eagerly follow through, now somehow charged with motivation to stay back and go over your moves a few times. You figure that the least you can do to move up a rank is to spend an extra hour going over your moves, even when you sometimes think about the significance of them.
You tread up to the coach and ask in your kindest voice if it was possible for you to stay back. “Of course, are you gonna go through the steps again?” He questions as he shifts his bag from one hand to another. You give a nod and wave goodbye, watching as everyone litters out of the court.
Well, almost everyone.
You can feel, more than anything, Jisung’s gaze piercing your figure through the hood of his jumper, while you give your best attempt at stretching. You’re not sure really what stretches best help with reducing the ache in your muscles the day after, but you figure the endeavour of reaching your toes should do.
Even after a few minutes of trying to appear mellow, Jisung’s presence alone makes you feel on edge as if you’ve stolen his territory. But you figure that nothing will change and that all you can really do right now is, well, practice.
The squeak of your shoes echoes every now and then, followed by a whip sound of the racket you’re flinging in the air. If you do this quickly enough, surely your skills will improve, right? From what your coach Son demonstrated earlier, you realised that as he would start off the steps slowly for your group to get a hang of, he was able to transition the speed to his liking, doing each step quickly and efficiently. 
“Okay, should be easy,” You’re careful not to speak too loud in the almost quiet hall, giving yourself words of encouragement. Hand braced in the first position, then in the second, then a slight step back, and then your hand straight and quickly bend.
You finish the routine with its final step of hitting the imaginary shuttle as fast and as straight as your hand can go with such speed. With one round done, you brace yourself in the initial position to do it again. One, two, three and four.
You only get to pump out four, maybe five rounds of this pattern before a clearing of someone's throat scares the daylights out of you. With a barely contained shout, you’d forgotten — however briefly — that you weren’t alone. You’re looking at Jisung, who seems shocked at accidentally shaking you up so much, before he says something to you.
“What?” Even with the stillness of the court, the man’s words were barely comprehensible, as yours echoed slightly throughout the court. 
“You’re doing it wrong,” Oh, so the first comment he ever mutters to you are words of criticism. You furrow your brows, head tilting slightly out of habit as you encourage him to go on.
“When you’re recoiling from hitting the shuttle, your racket still faces forward instead of down,” He explains, but none of it makes sense to you and it must be evident in your face, with Jisung looking slightly frustrated that the words did not register in your head.
“If you keep your racket facing forward, the ball isn’t going to go down but head straight, which allows your opponent to retaliate better.” He continues, and you somewhat understand where he’s getting at, but he’s not really helping you at all. All he did was point out your mistake, which makes you feel that he’s just trying to show off his knowledge.
“Well, what should I do then?” You can’t help but seem a bit agitated, as you slump your shoulders and let the racket settle by your ankles, your hold on the handle tightening ever so slightly.
“Hit it face down,” He raises his arm and demonstrated the step to you, causing the head of his hoodie to fall, shining the light of the court on his face. You’re briefly stuck looking at his face instead of his step, but were reeled back in when he makes eye contact. You clear your throat as he goes through the step again, which you think were exactly the steps you were doing a second ago.
“But, how was I any different?” You say as you mimic his steps, bracing yourself in the positions without much thinking, and hitting the imaginary shuttle right as when he does.
“No- see, you did it again,” He steps a bit closer as he gestures to the racket in your hand. “You’re hitting it straight on. You’re supposed to go down.” You sigh as he says this, feeling a bit irked that a mere student is trying to tell you what to do. He is in the top rank, so maybe he has a point.
Attempting to set your implicit annoyance aside, you intently look at his hand and the way he moves his wrist at the end of the step, trying your best to imprint this into your head. He looks a bit flustered with how much your gaze is focused on him, but still goes on two more times before nodding his head at you, encouraging you to try once more. 
You look at the position of your hand this time instead of him, going through the initial steps and tweaking your wrist to face more downwards this time than your last few attempts, before your eyes quickly flit towards Jisung, looking for some sort of confirmation with your try. The subdued purse of his lips assures your suspicion, which is that you’re doing it right this time round.
“Good, did you kinda find out what you were doing wrong?” The words come out on reflex, and you don’t think twice this time about him being in the same class as you and yet trying to coach your steps, as you ponder on his question.
“I mean, I found out I was doing something wrong when you pointed it out, but I’m not quite sure what you meant when you said I was hitting it straight on.”
“Wow, you were really into him weren’t you?”
“Shut up Chenle, I was into the badminton technicality.”
Jisung steps forward a little bit and is about to say something before he hesitates. You look at him sceptically, waiting to see what he was gonna say before he shakes his head and seemingly snaps himself out of it. “Can you go back to the third position?” He asks of you, which you raise your hand and assume the position. Your racket and arm are raised pointed straight to the ceiling, while he positions his fisted hand in front of you. Your questioning look doesn’t go unnoticed, as a slight smile appears on Jisungs face before he nods at you, saying, “Okay, now gently go down like you would and stop at my hand.” 
You do as you’re told, with Jisung’s eyes settled on your concentrated face following his orders, as the face of your racket meets his fist, the white of his knuckles colouring for a bit. 
“See, you’re hitting the front of my knuckles, but that will send the shuttle forward.” He demonstrates by pulling his fist back, “That will give the other player a better opportunity of retaliating.” He then readjusts your racket by the throat, having the net hit the top of his fist. “This gives you a better chance.”
“But like, how am I giving them a better shot?” 
You’re not sure what was funny or amusing about your question, but it seems that there must be something there for Jisung to sport a cute small smile, as he picks his racket back up and moves to one of the set-up nets, and funnily enough, you find yourself following him subconsciously. He picks up a shuttlecock on his way to the net and positions himself, as you stand at his side.
“See, let’s say the shuttle is coming at you this way,” He holds the shuttle with one hand as if the opposing player had shot it at him over the net. “If I hit it the way you had— actually, why don’t you try receiving the ball.” And so you shuffle over, standing opposite of his ready stance with your arms crossed, intrigued.
“I’ll throw the shuttle back to you and try seeing if you can hit it back.” You realise that this is the most you’ve heard him speak in the past five weeks that you’ve attended the class together. You bring your hand up and stand in the ready position you remember coach telling you about when initiating a game, and Jisung takes that as a sign that you’re ready and hits the shuttle at a moderate speed. You hit the ball back with ease, as it goes over back to Jisung’s side, who catches it with his other hand. You let out a long ‘ahh’ sound of understanding, hand clutched at your side. 
“You’re right, that was hell easy,” You brood aloud, but not before asking one of your other endless questions. “But then, how would the other way be any different?”
From the looks of it, Jisung seems over the moon that you asked such a question, holding back a smile by biting on his lips lightly and quipping his head to the side. He holds up the shuttle and looks at you, gauging to see if you’re ready to receive the ball once again. As you regain your ready position, you see the ball suspended in the air briefly before Jisung hits it at the ‘better’ angle, which is seemingly from the head of it, but before you can process anything else a zip sounds past you and the ball has landed behind you.
Your gasp resonates through the hall as you look behind you to where the shuttle has landed, with a hand coming to your mouth as you look at Jisung. The latter contains his smug smile behind his own hand, as you point at the ball and look back and forth. “What did you just do?”
“Ah, that’s a technique that's called smash.” You falter slightly.
“That’s a weird fucking name I’m not gonna lie,” You glance at the ball once more with a look of disgust, before shaking yourself out of it. “Oh my god, that was so cool.”
You didn’t think that you would be getting a one-on-one lesson when you decided to stay behind today, but you’re quite surprised with how he was able to spot such a little detail so quickly. And that gives you an idea.
“Jisung,” You call his name for the first time since you met him five weeks ago, which surprises the said man, as you see his eyes startle and a few strands of his hair jerk. “Do you stay after class every week?”
He’s a bit quiet for some time, processing your question thoroughly. He nods his head briefly, but not before a bit of hesitation. 
“Is it . . . Can you help me improve?” You’re a bit shy now that you voice your question out loud, but you’re determined to move up at least one rank and land second place; or even just have a good academic score, even in badminton. 
Seeing the blank face that Jisung is now sporting, you think about the unfair offer you’ve just made to him. Why would he spend his extra time after class to teach you, his potential competitor, without getting anything out of it? You’re not sure what you can offer him, maybe some sort of payment? But before you can ponder even more, you catch a slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye.
“Is that . . .  a yes?” You lock eye contact, as he nods his head once more but with more vigour and confirmation. 
“Why?” It’s your turn to look at him with confusion.
“Are you asking me?” He points to himself, as he slightly tilts his head as if he was going to look as if you were talking to someone else. You shake your head quickly once he asks the question, raising even more questions.
“Actually, no. I take back what I said. You said yes, right? You can’t change your mind. Or, I mean you can but like I would be pretty bummed about it because you already said yes but I’d respect your choice.” You take a deep breath in once you finish, looking at him and clasping your hands together a bit too harshly.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll help you with what you need.” Relief washes over you and you can’t help but smile in thanks.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing too.” Jisung hums for you to continue, as he goes towards his bag and retrieves his bottle to take a sip.
“Can you teach me how to smash?” And maybe you should’ve waited for him to be done with that bottle first.
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You think you’re quite good at being subtle and on the low, no matter how much Juda and Chenle counter that argument. You can be sneaky if you put your mind to it, and it's been proven many times in high school when you would sneak your favourite snack during the middle of the class without your strict teacher finding out.
So you’re not sure where you went wrong when you held out a snack bar in Jisungs direction, only for the whole court to look at you weirdly. You merely strutted up to him with maximum placidity and poked out the bar from your hand into his torso, looking away and hoping he would get the memo and take from you as with a mutter of something that sounds really close to the word ‘thanks’.
But it’s been a solid fifteen seconds and not only is the bar still in your hand, but everyone in the class has slowed down their activities in favour of looking at you two. Even coach’s staring as if he’s trying to solve a very complex puzzle.
“Is this . . . for me?” Jisung’s voice comes out as a rumble, not knowing if he should whisper or talk normally, sounding out something in between instead. 
Of course this is for you, idiot. Why am I holding it in your direction??
You ignore his question and shake the bar in your hand with a bit more intensity, hoping that he would finally get the memo. It isn’t until ten more seconds pass that you lose all hope and turn to him, grabbing his hand and placing your gratitude in his open palm, closing his fist around the energy snack.
You stomp your way to start your warm-ups before Jisung could say anything.
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“When you aim your hand, you’re not really looking at the shuttle,” Jisung starts after a few rounds of one-on-one games you’ve started after class. “Your eyes are just hovering around it for a few seconds before you look around and put yourself in position. You’re supposed to go in position without looking, it should be intuitive.” You huff at his explanation, dropping your hands by your sides.
“How do I ‘look’ at it more, then?” You’re grateful that Jisung is helping you, but it’s just the tiniest bit unnerving for him to recognise your every move and be able to point out your mishaps. He moves back from the net, creating a decent amount of space in his playing circle. He starts throwing the shuttle up with his badminton racket, the distance from the shuttle and its net growing with each hit.
“Practising this move helps,” He says as he works through what you remember the coach demonstrating the first few classes. As the shuttlecock goes higher and higher with each impact, your eyes catch on the silver of skin poking out as Jisung lifts his hand to meet the shuttle, his shirt rising for a few seconds every time. 
“I think it would be better if you looked at the shuttle?” His words catch you off guard, as you look up and meet his gaze already settled on your, eyes gleaming as he pokes at his cheek with his tongue. 
“Shut up,” You look away, flustered that you got caught, before attempting the moves, refusing to look back at him.
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The condensation of the electrolyte drink is addled with the dampness of your hand, as you make your way to class the week after. You see Ryujin talking to the coach as you enter, and Jisung at his bag, seeming to ruffle through it in order to retrieve something. You strut your way up quietly, not wanting to attract any awkward attention by giving gratitude in the form of a drink to your unofficial instructor. As you open your mouth to call Jisungs name, the tall man turns around and gives you the faintest hint of a smile, before his eyes land on your hand.
“Hi, here.” You spout, as you extend your hand straight towards him, some of the condensation dropping on the floor and finding solace in the gaps of your fingers. His hands feel dry and warm as it brushes against yours, retrieving the drink from your grasp.
“You didn’t have to. Thank you; for last time too,” Your cheeks heat up at his words as you avert your gaze away, opting to look at the playing net instead. “Don’t mention it,” Your damp hand wrings against the dry one behind your back, as you slowly let your gaze wander back to Jisung, who’s now looking at the blue bottle in his hand.
“Did you know,” He twists the drink in his hand and looks at what you think is the nutrition information. “Electrolyte doesn’t actually help when you exercise.” Your expression sullens as he continues to look at the drink you gave him. “Your body loses more water than electrolytes when you exercise, and so there is no use consuming more electrolytes. Water helps way more in comparison,” The scowl on your face makes Jisung stop in his tracks as he looks up after finishing his bite-sized lecture.
“Well, if you’re so ungrateful—” You reach your hand out to snatch the bottle from him but are stopped short as his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. “No!” He exclaims and a chuckle slips past as your struggle to get the drink, reaching out your other hand before he captures that too, now both of your wrists trapped in his hand. Your eyes widen, with your wrist bound and fighting up a struggle, all impaired with Jisung’s hand wrapped. Before your mind can wander to what other scenarios can result in him bounding up your hands, he continues; “I’m very grateful. You don’t have to give me these things just because I give you a few tips after class.”
You pause your struggle, letting your hands be weighed down. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been helping you at all. Sometimes I even set you back, so it’s the least I can do.” You say truthfully. You do sometimes feel like a burden when Jisung gives you a tip and you don’t adapt immediately, sometimes it takes you maybe two after-class lessons until you can successfully cast back the shuttle over the net with a short distance. The only way you could think about paying him back was through these pick-me-up snacks.
“Okay, how about this,” You miss the warmth and pressure of his hand against your wrist as soon as he lets go to put the drink down behind him and straightens back up, looking away as he slowly grows flustered with what he’s about to say next. “Treat me to ice cream maybe?”
You smile at his antics, happy to have been told how you could repay him. “Deal,” He visibly deflates with relief as you zealously agree, putting your bag down next to his as you both start to unpack. 
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You shuffle to the bathroom as soon as practice is over, giving Jisung a quick point towards the direction you’re going to ease his worries about you running away. Once inside, you’re met with the cool breeze and a mirror that reflects your spent figure. Oh god, how were you gonna go out like this? Is this what you looked like this entire time? Shuffling to the sink, you shoulder your bag back as you lean over the sink and lightly dab at your face with some water, before cleaning yourself up and dabbing the paper towel against your face. 
You don’t know why you were so nervous to do this; it’s truly just some ice cream with your temporary and unofficial coach. But you truly wanted him to see your gratitude, and soon enough you’re thinking if ice cream isn’t enough, and budgeting how you can come up with enough money for an all-you-can-eat buffet at this time of the night. But before you could even add up the numbers on your fingers - it was a two in one hand and three in another, not quite sure what they meant - the sound of the door opening echoes in the bathroom, jumping you out of your reverie. 
Turning around, you just catch Minji stepping in, looking taken aback at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t expecting anyone to enter this public bathroom. “You okay?” She calls after you, and you can only hope that the smile on your face is convincing enough.
“Yup! Just . . . tired,” You cringe a bit at the overused excuse, but your shoulders slump when she just smiles back at you. 
“It’s okay, maybe your date with Jisung would cheer you up?” You feel something lodge in your throat, coughing out in surprise.
“No!” You retort, hands coming out from behind you as if to stop all ideas from forming. “We’re- It’s not like that. He’s just-” Minji looks at you with amusement, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms, urging you to continue. The mind blank you’re sporting is not at all helping with a way to express what you truly are doing with Jisung, and so you try: “I just owe him something for smashing his racket.” And that was the best you could do.
Minji’s smile falls, as her arms drop at her sides. “You . . . smashed his racket?” 
You don’t know why her voice was laced with such concern, but you figure that you have to finish what you started. “Yeah, to pieces actually. Sometimes the adrenaline truly gets to you, right?” You chuckle a bit, trying to find a gap in the conversation where you can squeeze back out of the bathroom.
“Well, I’ll see you next week,” You clench the strap of your bag and exit the bathroom, ready to dart out of the place. As you turn a sharp right, you are immediately met with a sheet of white, which suspiciously looks like the colour of the shirt Jisung was wearing today. Hands are placed at your shoulder and you’re quickly set back half a step from the wall, or at least enough to recognise that it wasn’t a wall, but rather Jisung’s tall figure.
“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes flicking from his own to the arms stretching to your shoulders, catching a few veins adorning his forearm. A clear of his throat has you looking entirely away, as you grab at his wrist and start tugging towards the exit. 
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The white lights of the LED sign of the ice cream place illuminate most of the dark street, with most businesses having closed earlier in the day save for a few convenience stores littered with tired college students like yourselves. You eye the shop and its extravagant decor, sceptical about being brought to such a high-end ice cream shop.
“You know, when you said ice cream, I thought you had wanted me to buy you some popsicles from some convenience store. Not someplace about exorbitant ice cream with fifty years of craft in making,” You nudge your elbow a bit to Jisung’s side, to which he responds by twisting his head in your direction.
He splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot that, you know you were gonna pay,” You notice his hands move as he speaks, something you’ve picked up from when you would talk to him or notice him talking to coach; it’s as if his words are spelt with his hands first and then brought out through his lips, now adorning a pout as he tries explaining himself.
“. . . I thought we were just, going out.” Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise at his words. Going out? As in, going out on a date? 
You wonder if your thought bubble is something he can see, as he quickly puts out his hands again, shaking them vehemently. “Not on a date! It’s just, I didn’t know what-”
“Jisung, it’s okay. I was just messing with you,” You decide to put him out of his misery, reassuring him before continuing, “I’ve never been here but I’ve been meaning to try it out, so I’m glad you suggested this place. Let me treat you to something good,” And without thinking, you link your arm through his and push through the door, the cool of the interior washing over both of you. The shop was mostly white, with white tiles placed as half-walls as well as the flooring, the only hint of colour being the green of a few plants and of course the various ice creams. The employee, who seems to be the only person in the shop, straightens up ever so slightly at the sight of the two of you entering, before slumping back down when you head towards the self-serve ice cream booths. Picking up two cups, you hand one to Jisung who’s at your right, before you pick up the scooper from a mini bucket of water, waving it around your choices.
“Tell me which flavour you want me to pick out for you,” You eye the various flavours of ice creams, seeing if you can find your favourite. You look at Jisung to see if he’s doing the same, only to see his eye zeroed in on one bucket which is contrastingly fuller than the different flavours around it.
“Mint chocolate ice cream?” Your question has JIsung nodding his head as he looks at you sheepishly. “I can’t believe you would choose the most controversial ice cream. You’re so original.” You tease, to which Jisung nudges you in retaliation.
“It’s a good flavour, if people stop comparing the mint and the chocolate and instead choose to see how much they complement each other, we would be one step closer to world peace.”
“That’s a bold claim, what’s your source?” Jisung grabs the scoop out of your hands with mock aggressiveness, opting to scoop his serving of the mint chocolate ice cream. “Your references? Where is your citation—” He cuts you off by placing his hand on your mouth after taking a scoop of his ice cream, as his chest meets your arm. 
He shushes you, “Just get your ice cream, yeah? I’ll go get my toppings,” He nods and lets go of your mouth, missing the way your cheeks heat up from his proximity and touch on your face. You bring the back of your hand to your face, prying the heat to go away as you shake your head and pick the scooper back up, reaching for your favourite flavour of ice cream.
Meeting Jisung at the counter, you place your cup of ice cream next to his on the weigh and fish through your bag as you wait for the person behind the counter to calculate your total. However, as soon as you probed your wallet out of your bag, the sound of a completed transaction peals out, making you turn your head up just to see Jisung putting his wallet back into his sweatpants.
“It was supposed to be my treat,” You insist, looking towards Jisung’s direction to generate some sort of guilt for his action. Instead, the man avoids your gaze, picks up two spoons, and places them in your cups, grabbing yours when he spots you not budging from the corner of his eye and turning to head for the door. You grab at his sleeve to force out his reasoning but are slowly pulled with him as he heads out, quickly turning around and bidding goodbye to the staff before he opens the door.
“Well, maybe you can pay next time,” At the mention of another time of you and Jisung hanging out, your initial sorrow washes over by a wave of giddiness. 
“Then give me your number,” You propose, fishing your phone out. “So I can see when you’re next free and make it up to you,” With wide eyes, Jisung’s hands hesitate as they reach out for your phone; before either of you can second-guess yourselves, he takes the phone and smiles shyly, typing in his details. Handing the phone back to you, you take a look at his contact before pocketing your phone as Jisung starts to speak.
You scoop a spoon of your ice cream into your mouth to hide your smile, but from a light chuckle that emits from your left side, you don’t think your efforts amounted to much.
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You stretch your arm to reach the end of your leg, warming up your body before the mass class warmup, more so to have something to do instead of staring at Jisung who’s also here early and is also doing his own unique sets of warm-ups. 
Nothing about badminton is sexy; there’s nothing sexy about moving your wrist just in time to deliver some sort of groundbreaking delivery with the shuttlecock. Even the word shuttlecock grosses you out, as you suppress the urge to shiver at this very moment. 
So you’re not sure why the act of playing badminton with the wall is such an attractive sight to you; as Jisung grunts every now and then, seemingly surprised and unprepared by his own backhand delivery against the wall, which makes him take quick steps back and forth and side to side to meet each hit. His quick movements allow for his loose clothing today to move around freely, exposing toned skin every now and then. It takes a lot of your willpower to have you not to drool right then and there, as if you were back in high school once more.
One hit, in particular, bounced off high and far from the wall, the sound of the shuttlecock smacking against the wall echoing louder as it heads for Jisung’s left side, a direction that you’re situated in although with a safe amount of distance. The tall player retaliates by turning his body a whole hundred-and-eighty degree, facing away from the wall and essentially towards you as he tries to continue his streak of hits. Briefly, you see his eyes look at you and back at the shuttles descend, but his focus on the said thing falters when he looks at you again, realising that you’ve been watching him play. 
The shame of being caught should’ve arrived by now, as your shoulders stiffen with being onslaught by Jisung’s intense gaze. But before the chagrin could fully settle in, Jisung has completely passed the point of positioning his racket, causing the shuttle to fall and bounce off of his head and onto his feet. Gently clasping your hand at your mouth, you stop your giggles at the warning glare that Jisung sends to you; although his flushed cheeks aren’t making it any better.
“Say something and see what happens,” He points at you with the tip of his racket. You remove your hand and open your mouth, curious to see where this goes.
“Are you really gonna say something?” He steps closer to your figure, which is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with both hands placed on top of one another in front of you. He drops his racket on the ground, as if it doesn’t cost a limb, and instead places his hands right above his knees, looming over your figure. You can’t help it this time when your gaze follows towards the gap in the collar of his shirt, showing the sharp cut of his collarbone peeking through. It’s when your gaze is caught on his chain necklace dangling from his neck that the sound of a basketball bouncing echoes closer, as both of you look towards the direction it’s coming from. Not long after, a boy no older than ten shuffles in with his shoes squeaking against the floor, looking shocked at the fact that the two of you are here. 
The ball lightly hits Jisung’s calf, who simply picks it up and passes it back to the boy who’s seemingly frozen in place. As soon as the ball arrives at his own feet, he quickly picks it up and dashes out of the place. 
“Do you wanna bet to see who can reach past their toes?” Your question snaps Jisung out of his thought. The boy chuckles and sits down to your right, stretching out his legs and shaking them out as a form of warm-up.
“You’re so on,”
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Your hands are clasped behind your back as you strut up to Jisung, who’s at his bag, taking out his needed items. With a tap on his shoulder, he turns to face you, giving you a smile as a greeting before scanning you.
“What are you doing this time?” You gasp in mock offence.
“This time? I haven’t even done anything yet?” 
“But you’re going to,” He points his fingers at your hidden hands. “You’re either gonna scare me or pull the lamest prank ever known to date.” Your smile drops and a scowl replaces it instead. 
When Jisung fully turns to face you, you smile once more and lean your shoulders in. “I actually brought you something to thank you. Again.” You shift the item from your left to your right hand, feeling nervous and embarrassed for saying it all out loud. “Because of you, I can hit a backhand serve and not smack myself.” The boy stands taller with your gratitude, a blush sporting on his face as his eyes look anywhere but at you. You must look like high schoolers confessing to one another with the way you’re both flustered and shy, which isn’t a thought you’re fully opposed to.
He nods his head, still avoiding looking directly at you, as he reaches his hands out, ready to receive what you’ve brought for him. You giggle slightly as he shuts his eyes and shakes his hands in anticipation, “Since you said electrolyte drinks don’t really help, and you like your proteins after class, I thought of a better third option and brought you,” You reach your hands out and place the gift on his palms, urging him to open his eyes.
Cold and dripping with condensation, the plastic water bottle perched on his hands seem small as his hands close around them to keep from falling. His eyes fall as he looks dimly at the bottle in his hands, and you look away briefly to keep from laughing straight in his face.
“Now I know what that kid felt like when he got gifted an avocado for Christmas.”
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“Wait,” Chenle plops down next to Juda as he says this, but is quickly shoved to the other end of the couch with a complaint ‘It’s too hot for you to stick your gross body next to me’.
“What’s his deal then?” 
“What?” You turn to look at Juda first as if to check that you’re the only one confused. The furrow of the girls’ eyebrows proves the fact that you aren’t alone, as you both look at Chenle with visible empty thought bubbles surrounding you.
“Well, he’s a badminton prodigy according to you. Seems to have surprased all the basics and is just a step away from being a professional.” The initial shove and retort from Juda barely set him off, as he goes back to his original position and maybe squeezes himself even more to her side and pulls a spoon out, digging into her tub of ice cream.
“Why is he still coming to class if he’s qualified enough to teach you?” Unfortunately, for once Chenle does have a point. You’ve thought about this a few times at the beginning of the semester when you were a little more than irritated by the fact that he joined the class and made you rank down a notch; ever since he agreed to lend you a hand, you’re sometimes even happy when you see him come in.
“He has a point sadly,” Juda waves her spoon towards Chenle’s direction. “If he’s as good as you say he is, why bother coming to class?”
“Maybe you should ask him that on your next date,” The boy wiggles his eyebrows at you, squealing out a laugh when you pull your fist back in a threatening manner. 
“Maybe I will,” you blurt out, attempting an aggressive tone. Before you could let anyone, even yourself, comprehend what you said, you pressed play on the tv and snuggled up to Juda’s arm on her right, with Chenle leaching off of her to her left. 
“The things I put up with,” She huffs as she stabs her spoon into her ice cream tub, feeding you diligently.
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[WEDNESDAY; 10:37 PM]
you: you
jwisung: ?
jwisung: what happened to hello
jwisung: ‘how was your day’
jwisung: wheres ur decorum
you: shut up you dont even know what that means
jwisung: :(
you: >.<
you: are you free this saturday at 9
jwisung: you mean
jwisung: the saturday 9pm where we just finish our badminton class?
jwisung: idk i gotta check my schedule to see if i have a badminton class around that time 
jwisung: omg wait are you gonna spoil me 
you: 😐
you: yes but not anymore
you: bye
jwisung: WAIR
jwisung: pleahse im soreu
you: not forgiven <3
you: i know this place that actually has good mint choc ice cream
you: not too minty not too chocolatey 
jwisung: you rmbrd that i like mintchoc?
you: dont do this to me
jwisung: okay i wont 😁
you: good boy
jwisung: …
you: ?
you: oh! 
jwisung: no
you: ill remember this too 😋
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Your bag is bigger this time when you go to class, having packed an extra set of clothes and a towel to have a quick rinse after class before your not-date with Jisung. Arriving just in time for the warm-up session, you’re met with gloomy faces left and right. Plopping your bag down next to Soojin’s, you whisper when you ask, “Why does everyone look like they’ve been kicked?”
She looks up to you with a pout adorning her features. “Coach declared today a ‘cardio’ day. Something about wanting to boost our stamina or whatever the fuck.” She sighs as she shoves her stuff back into her bag, sadly shuffling across the court to do her designated warmups. You grimace as you follow, hoping your travel-size soap is enough.
Turns out Coach’s definition of cardio was way more intense than what you remember your gym friends raving about, as you put your hands on your knees to keep yourself from collapsing. A whistle from the coach signals a shift in your rep, making you change stations and do the next cycle of workout.
“Coach, how much longer are we gonna do this—”
“Until I start sweating, Jaemin. Now keep up!” Coach demands, which is absurd, because he isn’t doing anything but watching you do push-up planks and try not to collapse.
“Okay, stop,” He blows the whistle once more and you fall to your hands and knees, with everyone else modelling a variation of your position. Haechan’s high-pitched groan startles you, but not as much as the coach’s yelling that follows after.
“Don’t sit down guys! Sitting down after exercise is terrible for your stamina,”
“This sounds like some facebook myth my mom would tell me,” Ryujin pants as she shoves her fringe out of her face.
Coach smiles as he claps this time around. “You guys were great today, well done! As a gift, you can only do the stretching cool-down activities and I’ll finish class earlier today,” At that, the class erupts in out-of-breath cheers and barely lasting claps. 
You look to find Jisung, just to see how he’s holding up after this exercise round from hell, and you find yourself more than relieved to see him affected for once. Halfway through class, he’s opted to take off his hoodie, which left him in a white shirt and navy sweatpants, with sleeves bunched up to show his biceps and their carvings. The sight of him adorned with sweat and panting sends a twist to your stomach, and you’re quickly reminded that you’re supposed to go out with him after this.
Shuffling to your bag as quickly as you can with the ache pulsing through your legs, you’re about to head for the courts' public showers when you’re met with Jisung’s figure. 
“You can’t leave that easily, I have to try that ice cream,” He murmurs with a crooked smile. You smack at his shoulder.
“I wasn’t gonna leave, I wanted to take a quick rinse before we go out. That cardio really did a number on me,” Jisung falls a bit quiet at your words, as you visibly see him suddenly deep in thought. Before you get to question it, he beats you to it by straightening up and looking directly at you with an idea in mind.
“Why don’t you come to mine?” You blanch at his words but aren’t allowed to react more than that as he continues. “I live really close, and you can just use the shower before heading out. You have your stuff with you and I need a rinse too.” He points at your bag behind you, making you flush and subconsciously move to cover up your efforts. His idea doesn’t seem too bad, and you think this could be another excuse for you to make up to him. Let’s go out one more time because I used up all your hot water. Couldn’t think of a better idea. 
With a nod and a smile, you’re quickly guided out of the building shoulder to shoulder.
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Jisung’s apartment really wasn’t far at all, as you arrive at the complex within a five-minute walk from the sports grounds. Living in a two-bedroom apartment with his roommate, who Jisungs said to have gone home this winter season, the place looks relatively clean with the effort of one person living in the area. He directs you to his room, where you place your bags and pick up your clothes before he points towards the bathroom.
“You can use my shampoo and soap, they’re both in some type of white bottle. Don’t use the blue ones because they’re my roommates’ and he has a sixth sense when it comes to these things,” You salute him and shuffle to the bathroom, trying your best to be as quick as possible to not leave him waiting and to not actually use up all his hot water. The bathroom was just slightly messy, with towels stacked on one another in a haphazard manner and shaving bottle caps abandoned and soap remnants staining the sink, you feel warm with the idea of getting to see this side of Jisung. A university student trying his best, not some badminton prodigy.
Rinsing your body one last time, you close the water tap and open the glass door of the shower, reaching out your hand blindly to retrieve your towel. After a few seconds of mindlessly flinging your arm and only coming back with a bang of your knuckle against the metal towel holder, you don’t really recall pulling out the towel from your bag, much less hanging it anywhere near the bathroom.
“Oh my god, why today?” The cold of the world outside the shower cubicle washes shivers over you as you open the door wide enough to fit your head around, scanning to see if there’s any alternative you can use instead. All you’re met with is bundles of toilet paper rolls stacked on top of one another and used toilet paper rolls dumped into a basket haphazardly. Your panic settles a bit quicker as your mind blanks from solutions, but not before a knock is heard through the door with your name being called.
“Yes?” You hide the waver in your voice as best as you can, closing the glass door just a bit more.
“Is everything okay?” Jisung’s voice rumbles through the door. Your hand flies to your body, suddenly feeling exposed with the reminder of Jisung’s presence. Slipping back into the shower, you raise your voice as much as you can to be heard through the door; “Yup! Everything’s fine. Just . . .” It’s just I’m dripping and naked in your house and the only remedy is a towel, which I don’t have.
“I noticed you forgot your towel,” The muffle of his voice cuts you out of your trance, “I can give it to you— I mean of course I won’t look! I can just— maybe I’ll stick my hand in?” You laugh slightly at the fact that he’s just as flustered as you, before replying with an agreement. 
As he opens the door with the smallest gap to fit the towel and then his wrist, the cold air of the outside reminds you again of your stark nakedness, one hand going across your chest as you reach your other to grab at the towel. With a skim of your wet fingers against his warm and dry ones, you retrieve your towel with a shy thanks, as Jisung quickly goes to close the door.
While getting ready as quickly as you could in the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts of how you were supposed to face Jisung after that whole incident. You couldn’t think if it was better to joke about it and get it over with or forget about it and have to come back one day for some form of closure. You hoped there was no need for closure.
But before your overthinking could get to you, Jisung regarded you like he would any other day when you stepped out of his bathroom — with a shy look and awkward hands — and you immediately relax, shoulders slumping as you go up to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Jisung’s eyes flit towards it, but not for long before he opens the door and lets you lead the way.
The trip to the ice cream store was a short one, requiring only a train ride to the han rivers’ skirts where the shop is situated. The store itself was busy with people sitting all around snacking on its offerings, but once you get your respective ice creams and head out back towards the river, it’s a bit quieter; a breeze slips past you as you wrap an arm around yourself. With spring in the air, the trees’ full bloom flowers scatter around the pavement and are imprinted by the soles of your hoses as you walk by.
Finding a bench by the tree, the two of settle down on it, as you turn and face Jisung in anticipation of his first try.
“It’s really good, trust me. And it’s like a bit thicker with its mint rather than the chocolate bits which is a bit hard to do when you eat mint chocolate ice cream because it’s always the chocolate that's richer and you get si—” a spoonful of your ice cream is stuffed into your mouth, spluttering you to a stop as you glare at Jisung whos laughing at your expression.
“I had to shut you up one way,” You fist your hand at him in faux aggression, pulling out your spoon and placing it back into your cup.
“Just eat it quickly before it melts,” You exclaim with a hurried expression, feet bouncing up at down in anticipation. Jisung glances at you while he picks up his spoon, prodding at his ice cream before he picks up a spoonful of his ice cream, slowly bringing it to his mouth as he looks at your expression. He only laughs and detours his spoon once, bringing the spoon back up to his lips when the expression on your face shifts to a deadpan.
The pink of his lip contrasts with the mint colour of the ice cream dripping slightly from the spoon, as he finally fits the ice cream in and gives it a taste. Looking at his eyes with suspense, Jisung’s default expression of scepticism is what you see first, before it shifts into surprise, into confusion, and finally into the same expression as a kid getting candy. The glint in his eyes shines bright in the dim lighting that you’re in, as Jisung points to the ice cream while he continues consuming the ice cream.
“It’s good,”
“Of course it’s good. I wouldn’t bring you to try good mint chocolate if it wasn’t actually good mint chocolate,” You stifle a giggle when Jisung throws you a glower.
“You know what I mean,” At his positive reaction, you comfortably dug into your own ice cream, a comfortable silence blanketing you two with background noises of cyclers whizzing by and people talking in the distance.
“You’re doing really well,” Jisung starts with his eyes darted away, suddenly shy to look at you as he says, “In badminton, I mean. Your overhead shots are cleaner than mine.” Eyes still averted, he elbows you lightly with his compliment. You preen at his praise, leaning forward subconsciously to him with a thank you.
“It’s all thanks to you. If you weren’t as good as you are I wouldn’t even know that there are two methods of serving the shuttle.” 
Jisung’s laugh sounds less humorous, “Yeah, it must’ve been weird seeing me play alone during class,” There's a heavy pause as you visibly detect the boy sort through his next words. “I didn’t think you guys were . . . fond of me. When we first started,” You feel your stomach go white, colours flush from your face from his words. Did he know? Were you that blatant? You feel bad, remembering how isolated the boy was at that time as everyone distanced themselves since learning his level of expertise. You weren’t any better, the bitter feeling you harboured when you got ranked into the third group now coming back to you after three months of attending practice.
At the glum expression on your face, Jisung quickly goes to wave his hand. “Ah, it was— it wasn’t your fault or anything. I secluded myself too, so of course it would’ve been hard to talk as comfortably.” He rests his hand on yours that’s pressed against the bench, comforting you as if you’re the one whos been wronged, and not the other way around. Frowning at his consolation, you don’t know what comes over you as you flip your hand around, making your palm face his as you clasp his hands in yours.
You avoid looking at his expression as you make your bold move, looking at the river as you start. “If it makes you feel better, Jaemin always talks about how jealous he is of you whenever you do a smash,” Gathering the courage, you squeeze his fingers as you look at him, another question popping up in your head.
“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, of course, but—” You cut yourself short when Jisung nods his head at you, looking at you with a calm demeanour.
“Why do you still come to class if you’re already so good? I mean, I swear you’re at national levels at least,” Jisung snorts at your words, growing shy from your praise.
“I’m being serious, don’t laugh!” Even as you say your words with furrowed eyebrows, your efforts barely last as you smile at his bashful posture. Puffing his cheeks, he ponders a bit on how to answer your question; you’re about to tell him to just forget it, not wanting him to answer something so personal, when he straightens his posture and stares ahead with a determined expression.
“The first time I played badminton was at a family gathering for new years, and I might’ve been four or maybe five when my dad put a racket in my hand and swung my arm around to hit at the throws my cousins would send my way. Then when I got older and was forced to play actual sports in school, the only thing that I was willing to play was badminton. I didn’t try hard in the beginning and was there because I heard that the teacher conducting it didn’t really care,” You snort at the picture of young Jisung barely lifting his hand to play, or letting the shuttle zoom right past him while flinching away entirely.
“But when the interschool competitions came around and I was ranked in the last group to play, I had won by pure luck,” He rubs his hands up and down his pants as he reminisces, shoulder rubbing against your subconsciously. “And then everyone started cheering me on because apparently, my accidental win had helped us accelerate to the next round. It made me feel good that I was the cause of such a thing, so I tried a bit harder the next time. Then I asked the higher ranking kids to help me with my serving, and then my mom to admit me to a badminton class, and I ranked up from F to D, and then to B and then A. My class started to admit me to local competitions outside of school hours, and then it had become such a big part of my life that I was determined to get to a national scale.”
“Did you?” Your voice was quiet when you spoke, ending with a bit of a rasp from its lack of use. You were on the edge of your seat if your position meant anything, arms wrapped around your knees, thighs pressed to your chest, making the waistband of your shorts dig a bit higher. Jisung’s smile is a sentimental one, reminiscent of a win resulting from years of effort.
“I was fifteen when I was cast by a racket sports centre, which focused on training people ranging from kids to young adults to get to national competitions and even more. I was over the moon and became one of those kids you barely see in class and when you do, they’re just sleeping through the subject. My first competition was scheduled three months after my admission, which was unheard of; even kids who have been learning at the place for two years would struggle to pass the first rounds for the entry.” Your eyes move along Jisung’s hand, as he comically explains his words through the movement of his fingers, expanding and collapsing joints onto one another.
“I didn’t win the first one, but I won the second, and the third, and built a streak - although short, just four months into training. In the beginning, it was all so exhilarating, the thrill of winning the title of first place with all these people who were just as gifted, if not even more. And so I would win because I was capable, I didn’t win because I was it was expected of me.”
“But,” You murmur as Jisung halts, bringing his hand down as his fingers fiddle with the texture of the bench. 
“But,” His excitement has burnt down to a sort of nostalgia, and you reach your hand down and clasp your hand over his again, before he looks down and turns his hand, palm facing yours as he links your fingers together. “But then, when I was seventeen, I had passed the initial rounds for the national Olympic competition. It was big news; our centre hadn’t had someone do that in decades, and that was when the pressure was tangible.
“My parents would schedule my day down to the minutes, and my coach made my diet strict, telling me what exactly I should eat each day until the competition. I loved the order and agenda that was set for me; I didn’t have to think what’s next? I just had to keep doing what I was good at. But then came the first round of the match, and the people were ruthless. No one was there to watch two teenagers play badminton, but instead fight for their lives. I didn’t think much about it until my third round that day when the kid I was playing against deliberately tried to hit the ball to my face.” 
You couldn’t help it, your laugh had spilt out before you could even think of stopping it, but Jisung’s squeeze against your hand assured you that it was fine, as he chuckled with you.
“Who the fuck practices hitting the ball at someone's face?” Your voice was pitched higher with exasperation. “Do you reckon he had a cardboard cutout of you to practice on? I doubt someone can do the calculations of face-hitting range that quickly under pressure.” Jisung contemplates your idea teasingly, tilting his head and measuring random angels with his free hand. Seeing that, the weight of your hand held against his now weighs tenfold, as the butterfly in your stomach flutters with the subconscious squeeze of his fingers. You bump at his shoulder as you squeeze yourself closer, bringing your linked hands to rest against your stomach, wanting to hold him closer. 
“It was definitely weird, but it didn’t set me off my rhythm, I just thought that it was a way to rile people up. But my coach was the one irritated, and when the boy had almost hit my eye, that was when my coach started to interfere,” You can only imagine the noise surrounding seventeen-year-old Jisung, his coach stepping forward to halt the game and talking to the referee to take some sort of action, pointing accusing fingers at the opponent and their mentors. 
“The place that we were competing at was big, bigger than what I was used to back then, and there were a lot of people and so it was noisy;  but the noise that my coach and the kid were making was something else. When my coach came back to me, all riled up, I couldn’t do much but take in his energy. I remember being very tense, thinking that I should just step my ground a bit more next time ‘round so they wouldn’t think of doing something like aiming the shuttle at my face.
“I think it was either the fifth? Or the sixth round, when I was in the zone of playing ‘professionally’ rather than doing what I was already good at. I would do overhead deliveries and front-hand serves even though I’d rather do a simple back-hand. Then there was an opening for a smash, it was a weak point for the guy— and I was over the moon with the opportunity. I’d only done the smash successfully maybe enough to count off of my fingers, but I knew that if I timed it right I would get it,” Dread fills your stomach at the direction that Jisung is going, You’re sure if you clench your fingers any harder there would be an imprint left of the poor boy's hand, but Jisung either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care.
Jisung’s chuckle drifts lightly in the air, “I was too enthusiastic, and I bunched up all my energy into hitting the ball that I’d missed the perfect time and instead had delivered a simple overhead. It would’ve been okay otherwise, I mean, I was able to deliver something instead of losing a measly point, but before I could recover, the shuttle had travelled to the back end of the court, and in my attempt of getting it, I’d tripped and landed pretty badly,” While telling the story, Jisung’s free hand had been wandering over his clothed knee, fingers fiddling with the fabric and one another. Bunching up the fabric at the end of his pant, he pushes up the lax fabric up and over his knee, where a pink and slightly faded surgical scar paints the inner side of his knee. Your hand clasps over your mouth once met with the scar, and your heart fills with admiration as you see him trace his healed gash with sentimentality. Bringing your linked hands to rest on your knee, you prop your cheek against it while looking at him, sparkling eyes encouraging him to continue.
“I couldn’t play anymore after that, not with the same vigour I had before. Suddenly I had to go back to class regularly and didn’t have to do any sort of reps just so I don’t fall behind on my weekly plan. My schedule had more free time than anything, and so I had enough time to get to thinking; what if I hadn’t misstepped? Would I have won? But I knew that all of that thinking wouldn’t do me any good. So when I was watching the Olympics months later, I remember seeing the camera pan onto the coaches, and how happy they were to see their student playing. I missed the joy of playing for the thrill and adrenaline of moving around, and so I thought, why not become a coach?” Understanding fills you as you realise why Jisung is going through all this effort of attending a class that he’s exponentially overqualified for. His cheeks go red as he realises your gaze settling over his figure, now looking away from you and onto the still water. 
You can’t help it, you find it simply so endearing that he’s set his time into achieving something to allow people to have fun with badminton. Feeling overwhelmed with affection from his story and words and actions, you lean over and place a peck on to his cheek. 
The contact was brief, as your lips barely took in the smoothness of his skin before you’re coming back with a start. “Oh my god, Jisung. That’s so cute, you’re generous and you’re going out of your way to do such good things, and you didn't deserve to go through that at such a young age—” Your words were smushed together as you barely reach the end of your sentence, the cause being Jisung’s big hands gently attacking your cheeks at once. His wide eyes stare straight at yours as his colder hands warm against the puff of your cheeks; and you are seconds away from voicing your confusion before you see his gaze settling on your pouted lips, glistening and redder from the ice cream. 
You couldn’t even smile teasingly at him, as his hands refrain you from doing so. The nervous adrenaline running in your vein might be another reason too, but you don’t get to ponder on that for long before you see Jisung’s tilted head leaning closer, hooded eyes glancing at your eyes before focusing back on your lips, wanting to imprint it’s cute pouted shape.
The warmth of his lips lands on your cold ones, sending a wave of warmth to wash over you. You can feel his desire through the pressure of his lips against you, his soft lips fitting over yours lovingly. You mourn the loss as soon as Jisung pulls back, but not for long before he presses another close-mouthed kiss, this time with his hand tilting your head the other way, fingers slipping and cupping your jaw gently. Your stomach warms as you feel the fervour within Jisung, from the tip of his cold fingers on your heated cheeks to the push of his body towards you, wanting to get closer with each passing second. 
When he pulls back, his eyes are clouded with the haze of your kiss and a bit of timidity. Your giggle bubbles between you, causing him to smile along with you, his shyness catching up. Not wanting his hand to stray far as they fall from your face, you clasp at his palm and lace your fingers, pulling down to get his face closer to yours, placing a peck at his nose first, scrunched from being bashful, and then one on his lips. And another, and another, then it’s him who’s leaning in and slotting his lips against yours, and you’re pulling your linked hands behind your back and let go, opting to slot your hand behind his neck.
After two, three, and four more kisses to the cheek, forehead and lips, you tuck your head into the junction of his shoulder and neck, feeling shy from doing all of this in public. Jisung’s laugh is sweet to your ears, hands rubbing up and down your back before brushing at the ends of your hair. 
“Give a warning next time round, will you?” You tease as you pull back, hand falling on his forearms, eyes looking everywhere but at his.
“Sorry, you just looked too cute. I felt this sudden urge to either bite you or kiss you,”
You pull back even more, hands coming up to shield yourself in mock reservation. “I don’t know if I should be thankful you chose the second option or fear for when the first option will happen,”
Jisung hums, “Maybe both?”
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Your pinkies are linked as you walk along the river, basking in each other's presence as you talk, shoulders brushing every now and then. It’s when you’re both childishly debating about who had fallen first when Jisung suddenly points his finger at you accusingly.
“Is that why you forgot your towel?” His question comes out more genuine than anything, as he tilts his head quickly in thought. With a light gasp, you smack at his shoulder before your arm falls back and crosses on your shoulders, scandalised. “I didn’t!”
“Was that how you were gonna seduce me? By forgetting your towel and having me bring it to you? What was next, you wanted me to lotion your legs for you too?” You can tell he’s teasing this time around, as his tongue pokes at his cheek ever so slightly to withhold the grin that was blooming across his features.
You point your finger at him, catching on. “You probably distracted me with your whole ‘which bottle of shampoo’ debacle just to make me forget it.” Poking at his chest with eyes squinted in suspicion, “You wanted to see me naked on the first date? That’s not very decorum of you.”
Jisung scoffs and rolls his eyes at your accusation, shoulders squaring to better defend himself. “I don’t need to go through all of that just to get to you,” He throws you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, a rush of giddiness washing over him with the look of your flustered expression.
“You’re right,” This time, you’re looking at his lips as you say this, catching Jisung off-guard with your compliance. Moving closer, you rest your hands on his arms, pushing yourself up and closer to his body, chests brushing. Your voice, barely above a whisper, brushes against his ear, “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get to me, baby.” 
You know the smile on your face is menacing if Jisung’s gaze on you is anything to go by, partly annoyed and part timid. Ghosting one of your hands down his arm, you slip your fingers in between his and give them a squeeze, giggling as you swing your arm back a forth a bit like a school couple.
Jisung’s next sentence takes a bit of effort to say if his demeanour is anything to go by. With his gaze settled on your intertwined hands and a slightly open mouth— as if to say something, you give his hand another gentle squeeze to encourage him. 
The gleam in his eyes looks more assured as he straightens his posture and looks directly into your eyes, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Do you wanna go back to mine?”
Leaning in, you give another peck on his cheek, his scent pleasantly wafting through your nose. “I’d love to,”
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You can feel the tension grow with the sound of the door closing and sounding its locking chime, toeing off your shoes as you look up at Jisung. He reaches out a hand towards you once you straighten up, pulling you close and guiding you towards the door of his bedroom.
Like the rest of the house, Jisung’s room is clean but still spotted with signs of use, with his desk having papers and laptop wires strewn around while a plethora of empty hangers are placed at the foot of his closet. As he sits on the bed, with his hand still holding yours, he tugs you forward, his free hand going to your thigh, clasping above your knee. 
His eyes glisten as he looks up at you, “This okay?” his touch ghosts on you as he asks this. You nod your head, wanting him to touch you, needing him to touch you more. His fingers grow bolder and heavier in weight, as his hand clasps at the back of your thigh, bending your leg and resting it next to his thigh. Understanding his movements, you follow suit, settling yourself on his thighs with your linked hands resting on his stomach. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against you, easing in with feathery light touches. The slot of your mouths against each other starts a small fire in your stomach, as you push yourself onto him more, needing him to know that you crave more. 
He sighs against your lips as you settle down more, the pressure not far from where he wants it the most. He kisses you feverishly, the smack of your lips growing louder with each plant of his lips. His touches grow heavier as his fingers go from grazing against your knees to tracing lines up your thighs, barely a touch away from settling under the seem of your skirt. Knitting your fingers in his hair, his hand flies to your love handles, squeezing them in an attempt to ground himself. A sigh leaves his lips when you separate just the slightest bit, taking a breather as you kiss the corner of his lips, hands falling from the ends of his hair down to his collarbones and at the bottom of his shirt. Your spread your fingers on the skin of his stomach, nails skimming ever so slightly making Jisung’s breath hitch, his stomach tensing under your touch, eyes still closed as he takes in your touch, his stomach knotting from finally being able to do this with you.
With his grip already tight on your waist, he maneuvers you off his lap and sits you on his bed, crawling between your legs, making you open them and welcome him in as you lie down on his bed. He kisses you again, his hands now staking claim everywhere he can, pushing your shirt up to your ribs, fingers grazing against your bud form under your bra before he brings his hands down and kneads at your thighs.
“Jisung,” You sigh when he swipes his tongue against your lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth, humming against it at your call, its vibration sending hot waves down your body. His touches on your body take you higher, but you need more.
And so you say just as much, “More, give me more.”
“Fuck,” He sighs against your lip, “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give you more, anything for you,” Pressing one last peck against your lip, you see his body slide down your figure, his fingers going to unhook your bra as you arch your back. He groans at the sight of your breasts free from your bra. “I love your tits, so much,”  His hands are big against you, but they fit perfectly against the cup of your breasts, squeezing them together as he smothers himself against your cleavage. He licks a stripe of each bud, before focusing on your left one with his mouth, tongue lapping around the swell as he sucks, opting to circle his fingers on your other tit before pinching it harshly, making you keen against him.
You rake your fingers in his hair, petting him. “Such a good boy, you make me feel so good,” Your words make him whine against your breast, making his hip stutter against the mattress,  for some sort of friction. He releases one hand from cupping your breasts, opting to use one hand while his now free hand dances its way down your torso, unzipping your skirt and taking it off, before meeting the seam of your panties. With his pointer finger, he hovers a line ever so slightly on your slit, eyes wide as he glances at the pleasure breaking out on your face and the wetness of your underwear spreading.
He keeps his touch light, drawing circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear, frustrating you. You huff when he uses the point of his fingers and presses the slightest amount into your hole, the fabric refraining you from feeling his direct touch. You pull at his hair that’s winded through your fingers, urging him on; he moans at the pull, getting the memo once he looks up at your face with an eye squeezed closed from pain or pleasure. Or both.
He licks at your entrance briefly through your panties, the heat and wetness making you moan, before his fingers finally fit themselves into the seam, sliding them down your legs. You feel more than see his gaze on your core, hooded eyes watching it squeeze around nothing as his fingers tease around it. He comes back up to you and presses his lips against yours, lips slotting together briefly before you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive nub, his middle finger prodding at your hole, eyes watching your face as he pushes the pad of his finger against you. You keen when his finger fills you, as he pushes his finger back and forth, his thumb following by pressing into your clit and pulling away rhythmically. He brings his head against your neck, licking a stripe against you before his teeth catch on your skin, lips wrapping themselves around you straight after, sucking into you before parting and finding another part of your skin to taint. He quickens his pace with his one finger, but it’s not enough, you can barely get enough of him.
Hugging his head that’s still tucked at your neck, you scratch at his scalp soothingly before pulling at strands of his hair. “Jisung,” You pant, “Another one, fill me up, please,”
“You want more?” He bites at your jaw lightly, before he pecks your lips lovingly, as if he isn’t trying to have you come undone with his fingers alone. You nod your head, “Please, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You beg as your cup the side of his face, your eyes looking at his blown-out pupils, probably no different than yours.
Jisung gronas at your words. “You’ve been so good, such a good girl.” He pulls his finger out so just the tip of it hangs onto your gaping hole, before he joins in another finger, two fingers now filling you. You whimper out a thank you, hands clutching at his shoulders as he picks up the pace, hand now slapping against your cunt, fingers curling inside your sopping pussy. Your body feels like it’s floating and coiling into itself all at once, with Jisung’s unrelenting fingers contrasting his gentle pecks and scrape of teeth against your skin. Every few thrusts and squeeze against his fingers have his hips grind down, sometimes grazing against your leg, making you feel his hard-on.
You bring your hand down from his shoulder, curling it at the bottom of his shirt before tugging at it, mumbling the word off. He pulls back slightly and pulls his shirt off with his free hand while you help with getting it over his head. You scratch your nails against the lines of his stomach, eliciting a hiss out of his before you palm at the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. “You listen so well, don't you? Always doing your best,” You pant out, testing the waters as you tuck the tips of your finger under his waistband. His moan comes out higher in pitch with your words, hips jutting forward and into your touch.
“Good for you,” he breathes against your cheek, eyes squeezed shut at the brush of your fingers against his clothed cock, muttering another fuck under his breath, rutting into your palm for more. 
You’re losing your patience, as Jisung speeds up his hand even more, the pleasure bordering with pain from his pace and harsher bites Jisung plants on you, too far gone with pleasuring you to be mindful of his strength. 
You can feel your orgasm reaching, breath hitching and your stomachs coil tightening further and further. You wrap your hand around Jisung’s wrist, slowing him down slowly before prodding them out of you. You whine at the emptiness briefly but are soothed when Jisung plants wet kisses against your collarbone. You push yourself up onto your shoulders, making Jisung shuffle back slightly in order to not lose touch with you, Reaching over, you dig through your bag and pull out a condom, shaking it between your bodies to bring Jisung’s attention to it.
The sound of the plastic wrapper catches his gaze, “You’re gonna let me put it in?” He grabs the packet from your hand before gently pushing you back down. He kisses you again, seeming to not get enough, as he pushes his pants and boxers down in one go, his tip smacking against the soft lines of his stomach and leaving a glisten. The rip of the packet sounds before he rolls it on, and you shift closer when you feel the tip of his cock lined up with your pussy.
The sheets ruffle around you as Jisung comes down and places a kiss on your cheek before looking into your eyes. “Ready?” He asks, and with a nod of your head, you feel him slowly ease himself into you. The stretch feels amazing, as you both moan into each other mouths, your hands squeezing and wandering everywhere around Jisung’s shoulders, back, torso. 
Jisung sighs, “Fuck,” His grip on your waist tightens, the pressure turning you on even more, squeezing around his cock. “You feel so good, so tight,”
“Fuck, Jisung,” You groan out as he quickens his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your skin picking up. “Fuck, you’re doing so well. Stretching me out so good,” Jisung throws his head back, eyes squeezing shut at the pulse of your pussy around his member. He looks back down, wanting to see the join of your bodies, pulling out till his tip, before ramming himself back in, losing himself to the blissful feeling.
The knot in your stomach tightens. “Jisung, I’m close—” You’re cut off by your own moan as Jisung starts rubbing at your clit again, building a rhythm to his thrusts into you. 
“Yeah? Fuck, let go baby,” He grunts as he bends down, his cock twitching inside of you as he kisses your lips before tucking his head back into your neck, lapping at your skin as he keeps up his speed with his fingers on your clit and his thrusts inside you. Your body curls up as your orgasm crashes into you, hands hugging at Jisung’s shoulders tighter as your thighs squeeze around his hips, keeping him in your pulsing core. Panting, you release your grip from his hip, bringing your leg down and patting Jisung’s head, wanting to kiss him again. 
As he pulls away from you, you lean up and plant a kiss on his lips, chest bursting with the affection you feel while coming down. Jisung pulls his cock out from you, going slow as to not overwhelm you. He pulls off his condom, not having cum yet as his cock smacks against his stomach, the precum from the tip joining the light sheen of sweat covering his body. He fists his hand around his cock, tugging and pumping himself to a finish. You’re too spent to give him a helping hand, but you decide you haven’t spent your mouth enough.
“Pretty boy, you’re doing so well,” He hunches over your body at your words. “Looks so good fisting your own cock like that,”
“Fuck,” He groans, “If you keep going I’m gonna—”
“Cum baby, make a mess on me,” You run your hand up his thigh, before pulling up and grabbing at his hair and combing through the strands. His moan comes out high pitched as his hips stutter into his fist, before a spurt of come shoots out and lands on your stomach. He twists his fist around the head of his cock as he milks it out, before heaving a sigh and slumping down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before he lies by your side, cupping his body into yours. You continue running your hand in his hair as he settles on your shoulder, his cheek poking out which makes you poke at it. A giggle is shared as the giddiness of you two being together in the moment settles in, and when you go to place a kiss at his forehead, you’re reminded of the wetness of sweat all over your body and the slowly drying cum on your stomach.
“Oh, let me go get something,” He gets up and goes to his bathroom, coming back with a few paper towels and a wet cloth. Rubbing down your spent body, he pats you dry with the paper towel before putting them away and plopping down next to you, wrapping his arm around you and tucking himself close.
“I didn’t know you were the cuddly type,” You say as you hug at his shoulders, hands rubbing up and down as a faux massage.
“Well, I mean, I can let go?” Jisung’s nervous front grows again, as he goes to put some distance between the two of you. But before he could get far, you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulder as you hook your leg around his, stopping him from pulling away.
“I never said it was bad; I like this girlfriend bonus.” Jisung’s hair bounces as he pops his head up to look at you.
“Girlfriend bonus? Does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?”
“Only if you agree to my boyfriend bonuses,” You shrug. He laughs as he places his head back on your shoulder. “What are these so-called ‘boyfriend bonuses’ of yours?” You tap at your chin mockingly as you think.
“You can fuck my boobs next time?” You shrug again. His head whips up faster this time ‘round.
“Are you serious? Don’t joke about it, because if you are I won’t be—” You smack your hands on his cheeks, squeezing his lips into a pout. His shoulders slump at your attempt of shutting him up, eyebrows drooping as he gazes at you, making you laugh at his expression as you squish his cheeks repeatedly.
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“Okay, good job guys, take a water break.” Coach Son claps, as everyone shuffles to their bags and grab at their bottles. Jisung’s elbow brushes against yours as he grabs his bottle from his bag next to yours, taking a few light sips before he places it down, looking at you with his cheeks full of water. It takes all his might to not spit the water out as you elbow him back and raise your fingers tauntingly, moving closer as if you’re about to tickle him.
Before you can successfully begin your quest, Coach lets out a sound as to gather you guys back ‘round, clapping his hands twice before waving you guys in.
“Since we’re coming to the end of the semester and you guys have proved to work really hard, I’m gonna conduct one last test to see how much your levels have changed since the beginning of the semester!”
“Oh my god,” You whisper out to Jisung as your hand cups your mouth, wide eyes looking at his as his eyebrows raise in surprise. This could finally be the moment that you can prove yourself, advancing onto a higher level to have an overall better ranking.
“Who wants to go first?” Jaemin steps up and raises his hand, confidently wanting to prove his skills. 
He plays a round with the coach, showing signs of trying his best and knowing how to play, but his reaction speed comes a bit too late as he misses the shuttles by a step. Sometimes two. Sometimes he mixes up his left from his right, but that’s just occasionally. Minji and Ryujin play a round each, and show good improvement throughout the semester.
“You should go next,” Jisung leans into as he whispers, both of your gazes settled on the coach and Ryujin going back and forth with clears being delivered. Your blood rushes quicker at the thought of playing an official round, thinking of all the mistakes you can make that would cost you. 
Sensing your nerves, Jisung places his hand on yours, grabbing it before giving the palm of your hand soothing rubs. “To help with the nerves,” He says when you look at your joint hands questioningly.
“Alright, next player?” Giving your hand a light squeeze, Jisung lets go and ushers you forward onto the court, as you raise your hand slightly, grabbing at your racket once Coach nods you in.
Arranging yourself, you pick up the shuttle left at your side and get into your serve position. You hit the shuttle and serve, commencing the game. You are able to reciprocate most of coach’s deliveries, stepping left and right when needed and angling your racket to optimise your own delivery, but it’s when you’re halfway through the game with Coach Son’s and your score being eleven and ten respectively, coach starts playing with a more advanced method. The drops become more frequent, catching you off guard as you have to run from the back to the front of the court in order to make it to the shuttle, as well as the clears going in different angles making you almost trip a few times as you attempt to make it to them.
Jisung has his fist at his mouth as he watches you from the side, with everyone else in awe at how quickly you’re moving compared to the last time they played officially.
“How did she get so good?” Haechan questions with his hand pressed on his racket. The whole class shifts their head from left to right at the sidelines as they watch you battling it out with their coach, the shuttle relentlessly being delivered with neither of you wanting to lose touch of it.
“It’s the perks she gets for having an almost professional-level badminton player of a boyfriend.” Ryujin’s smile is devoid of any callousness, patting at Jisung’s shoulder as she says this. Jisung can feel his cheeks grow red as he splutters into his sleeve, hiding his flustered expression as the rest of them shout out their reactions.
“All credit goes to her, she’s just a diligent student.” 
“I can be diligent too,” Jaemin bats his lashes as he leans in from Jisung’s other side, but flinches and clutches at his shoulder when Soojin smacks him.
Back on the court, you’re starting to lose your breath when Coach delivers another serve to the back of the court, shuttle going straight as you attempt to create enough distance to successfully hit back. As he does a clear delivery, you position yourself at the back fo the court in order to meet his hit, before quickly centring yourself, preparing for his next move. From a steady pattern of his serves growing in your head, you were more than ready to reciprocate his short hit of the shuttle near the net, as you step forward and hit back.
Usually, you would’ve stumbled to hit the shuttle back at maximum velocity, sending it flying up and giving Coach more than enough time to think of his next move. But from your extra hours of playing with Jisung, you’re picked up the knack of delivering a short end with another short end, making the shuttle travel only the slightest bit over the net and plummeting down into the court. Coach Son is caught off guard when you do this, but his reflexes from years of practise kicks in, and before he could process his actions, he delivers a lob, sending the shuttle high in the air. Jisung gasps from the sidelines, making everyone alert.
He calls out your name, “Smash! Do a smash!” 
With your eye settled on the descending shuttle, you think back to the one class you had with Jisung.
“You hit a clear when the shuttle can meet your hand at twelve o’clock. You have to wait for it to drop to the same level that you’re hand would be at a ten o’clock position to be able to deliver a smash; but remember that you have to keep going with your delivery until your hand reaches six o’clock.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
You’re still not sure what he meant, but with the fall of the shuttle, you’re not really at the privilege of recalling things for a long amount of time. 
Positioning your hand at the first base, you wait for the shuttle to be at least a few inches from your head before you reach out, smacking at the shuttle and aiming at the bottom of the court. Coach, who was ready for you to hit the shuttle to the back of the court like you usually do, was not ready for the shuttle which was arriving at a quick pace. In a blink, the shuttle lands just past his ankles, and you’ve officially scored a point.
“Jisung!” You scream once the shuttle lands, looking at your boyfriend who was staring intently at your match. A look of victory glows across his face as his mouth drops in disbelief, eyebrows raised and fists clenched, over the moon at what you had just accomplished.
“I smashed! I did it! I smashed so hard oh my god, I think my arms gonna fall off,” The game is far from done for you to be celebrating like this, but you’re without care when the rest of the class cheers for you, Minji running up to you to give you a hug. You both start jumping with giddy while the rest join in, all while the coach looks at your huddled bunch with a smile on his face.
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“This is Juda and this one is Chenle.”
“Why’d you talk about me as if I was a dog?”
“Because you are,” Juda shrugs before she plucks out a Yakult bottle from the packet in her hand, swingin it above Chenle’s face. “Who wants a treat? You do! Who’s a good boy?”
“Nice to . . . meet you guys too?” Jisung’s wave hangs mid air as he looks at Chenle slowly shift from a expressionless face to enthusiastically nodding his head up and down, wanting the drink.
“What did I tell you? You’ll fit just right in with us,” You link your arm through Jisung’s elbow, pulling him into your shared house with Juda before sitting him down on the couch. Juda and Chenle follow after, with the latter having his own bottle open and already emptied halfway. Juda offers Jisung yakult bottle, and goes to pick up the remote, going through the movies to put something on. You quickly grab a few snacks from the kitchen and come back, settling yourself right next to Jisung, leaving no space between the both of you.
“Wait,” Chenle turns to look at you from his positon on the ground, grimacing a bit at the sight of you two cuddled up, before continuing. “What happened with the new ranking then?” Your smile is shy when you look at him and Juda looking back at you expectantly. 
“I got into group B.”
“YES!” Chenle whoops, grabbing Juda and shaking her by the shoulders. “No more whining and complaining and whinging about the class!” You chuckle as you cheer alongside him, with Jisung looking at your interactions with raised eyebrows. 
Laughing, you tuck yourself into his side, linking your arms again as you rest your head on his shoulder. With Juda and Chenle bickering about settling on what movie to watch, you press a quick kiss on his cheek in appreciation.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” You smile at him, to which he grins shyly at. “Even though I lost, the smash pulled me through. Your smashing abilities were so flawless that even I, a young duckling was able to smash through,”
“Okay, thank you for the compliment but maybe don’t say how good my smashing abilities are—”
“You just smash so hard and so well—”
“Please—”
“Jisung the smash master!”
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if you liked this, dont be afraid to tell me !
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tomhollandisabae · 1 year
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jealous! Ghost, hehe
thank u for your request love 🥰🥰
masterlist
bets and jealousy- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader
summary; a bet placed on your name, soldier after soldier hitting on you a very very jealous ghost.
warnings; angst, fluff, mature language, mentions of sex, violence, english is not my first language, unedited
words; 1.3k
a/n; sorry for the delay, but that time of the month decided to visit me again. i'll try to answer to the rest of the request during this week.
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It all went down when one of the soldier tried to hit on you, then many others followed…
You and simon had been in a secret relationship for almost one year now and somehow now had caught on yet, even though you weren't being so subtle.
That became an issue when soldier after soldier tried to ask you out, but you were turned every single one down.
However, you were also unaware of the bet that had been placed on you; whoever gets the girl, gets 200 bucks.
So, of course, there was not a single man that hadn't approached you – apart from soap, price, gaz and graves.
As for simon, the whole situation was getting quite enough on his nerves. It was an understatement to say that he wanted to rip every single men’s tongue, that talked to you, out of their mouth. It wasn't the fact that he didn't trust you, because he did – he trusted you with his life. It was the fact that he didn't trust those men. I mean, why would he? He didn't know them, he had never spoken to them… they could've been spies, people that tried to approach you so to kill you and so on.
Simon was always quite, never being one to make a fuss about something, but that all didn’t matter anymore when he heard about the so called ‘bet’. He became feral. The feeling of jealousy always growing on him and now this… it was his turning point.
He approached you as you were talking – trying to kindly avoid the guy that was hitting on you at the moment.
When you saw Ghost walking towards you looking quite angry, even with his mask on, you knew that things where about to go down real bad.
“Sim—” you tried to stop him, but it was too late as he had already pounced on the guy in front of you.
He threw him on the floor and started punching his face as you were shocked enough to react in any way.
“Simon! What the fuck? Stop it!” You yelled more concern about the consequences that he would face than the guy getting the beating of his life.
“Someone come and stop them!” You motioned towards the soldier that were standing a few feet away from you, looking at the scene in pure delight.
“Hey!” You heard Price’s deep voice from behind you and sighed in relief.
“Hey, both of you! Get your asses up right away! It's an order! Ghost!” Price demanded as now both Soap and Gaz where trying to get Ghost off of the poor guy.
Poor? Nah, he deserved it, but still… it's Ghost!
“Hey man, chill out.” Gaz tried to calm him down.
“Is that what you're doing now huh?” He turned towards the soldiers behind him.
“Is this what you represent? Tell me?” He screamed at them with his heavy and scary voice.
“Placing bets over a woman because she doesn't pay you any attention? You all are a fucking pain in the ass, that's what you are! We are in the middle of a serious mission and that's all you are concerned about!” He ranted on and on.
Is that all he cared about? His men not focusing on the mission? Not the fact that they were all hitting on you? Many thought overwhelmed your brain as you felt quit hurt by his words.
“Ghost calm down.” Price tried to reason with him.
“He is just the beginning” he pointed towards the soldier on the ground “many will follow if this goes on any longer. Now focus on the mission and hope I don’t see you doing anything else.”
You felt like a fly getting hit by a car driving at 150 kilometres per hour. He didn't care about you, only the mission.
When everyone left, he turned to see you but you were already gone.
You had been ignoring him for one week now, only being typical with him and that made him confused. Why did you change so suddenly?
Every time he would try to have a confrontation with you, you would find any kind of excuse to leave or you would address to someone else.
As the two weeks stroke, Simon had had enough so he tried to confront you.
It was late and you had excused yourself to your room when you heard a knock on your door. However, when you opened it, you came face to face with none other than the Ghost himself. Before you could close the door on his face, he pushed you farther in the room and he closed the door behind him.
“Will you tell what is going on?” his voice sounding cold coming from behind his mask.
“Whatever you mean?” you crossed your arms on your chest.
“You know very well what i'm talking about princess.” You almost melted at the nickname.
“trust me I don—”
“why are you talking to me? you've been ignoring me for the past two weeks and it's annoying enough.” He cut you off.
“ohhh that” you rolled your eyes.
But he snapped. He grabbed you by the neck pinning you against the wall as his other hand found your hip and squeezed it firmly.
“don't play with me darling, because you've been a really bad girl lately and that doesn't help your current situation.” You could guess that he was smirk behind the skull.
The bastard…
“get your fucking threats and yourself out of my room. You have no right to be here.” He hissed at him.
“that's not what you were saying every night you were calling me over to fuck your brains out.” That left you speechless.
“well that belongs to the past, now get out.” Your eyes were burning holes through his.
“not until you tell me what’s going on.” he demanded.
“get your fucking hands off of me then” you said and he obeyed immediately, stepping back.
“I mean why do you even wanna know. You don’t care about me” you finally said.
“what? Where did you get that from?” he asked hurt.
“tai weeks ago when you beat that guy, I was stupid enough to think that you did it because you wanted to defend me, even though I’m quite capable of doing that myself, or even that you were jealous, but no. you did it because of your fucking mission. all you fucking care about is your mission, so why even bother with me? i decided to relieve you of myself.” you admitted.
The whole time he was looking at you, not moving an inch.
“who told you I wasn’t jealous?” he finally said.
“I didn’t need anyone to tell me that, I figured it out myself.” He took a step closer.
“I was burning.” He exclaimed “just the thought of those filthy men talking to you and even more the disgusting bet they had placed on your name was eating me alive, but what was I supposed to say ‘get your fucking hand off of my girlfriend’? I didn’t want to compromise you. You’ll get fired once they know we are together.” everything he was saying was making sense.
“i… I’m sorry.” You lowered your head.
Simon exhaled deeply and pulled off his mask, his eyes meeting you once again.
“hey… you don’t have to be sorry about anything. I should have talked to you. I’m sorry for not confronting you sooner.” He placed his hands on your cheeks and his forehead on top of yours.
“do you love me?” your own hands now found his, squeezing them softly.
“I love you more than anything else in this world.” he admitted.
“I love you too si” you said back and he smiled as he leaned further down placing his lips softly on yours.
4K notes · View notes
fxllfaiiry · 1 year
Note
hey can you do flashing spencer during an argument? some angst at the beginning to maybe?
─ flashing spencer during an argument 
summary ─ flashing spencer while arguing. 
warnings ─ 16+ no smut but heavily implied! explicit language, spencer being horny, some angst but not really, mentions of reader getting shot, wife!reader. 
notes ─ thank u for ur request <3 please don't mind any errors.
⎯⎯
“I can't believe you would risk your life like that.” The scene was ugly, you almost got hit by a bullet on the field and Spencer was having none of it. The flight back was quiet and tense, you tried to get him to talk to you but nothing, he gave you the silent treatment until you guys reached back home. You barely talked even then, everything was done in silence, once you guys were freshened up Spencer couldn't take it anymore, the whole thing was killing him. 
“Well, it's not like I got hit or anything, please calm down.” You were just as stubborn as he was, it’s not like you wanted to be in that situation, it just happened. You were trying to save an innocent man’s life. 
“Calm down? What if it hit you? Then what, huh?” 
“But it didn't, did it? Look I’m fine.” He was really testing your patience, you were tired, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your husband. 
“Look, I just want you to be safe, okay?” He turned away from you pacing back and forth, going on and on about how safety comes first. You stopped listening halfway, and then suddenly you got an idea. You had no energy to argue with him right now. 
You pulled your shirt up, exposing your tits to the room, thank god you didn't wear a bra. You waited patiently for him to turn around, letting him ramble first. 
“You could've saved him without puttin-” Oh. Spencer froze. The words died in his throat, the sight of you sitting topless made him hard. He went from angry to extremely turned on in mere seconds. 
“You were saying?” You looked so cocky, he wanted to fuck that smirk of yours away. 
Spencer walked towards you. You could tell you made him even angrier. You squirmed around nervously in your chair, you could feel yourself throb with each step he took. 
He stood in front of you, looking down at you with dark eyes. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip.
“I never meant to make you angry, Spence. I’m only doing my job.” The sudden stab of guilt makes you apologise, you get why he was mad but you were doing your job.
“I know, I was just worried that’s all. I’m sorry too.” His eyes softened at your words, he was being unreasonable before. 
“Can’t believe all it took was my tits being out for us to make up.” You giggle and Spencer lets out a low laugh at your comment. 
“Don’t think you’re getting away with it, that easily.” Your husband sinks down on his knees in front of you, gently kissing up your thigh. 
“Spence, please.” You grab his hair with your hands trying to guide him to where you need him the most. 
“Ah, ah, patience, my darling, we have a long night ahead.”
1K notes · View notes
beom-pyu · 11 months
Text
lust for life ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ kang taehyun
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kang taehyun x fem!reader (choi yeonjun x fem!reader) , tags: non idol au , friends to lovers , one-sided crushes , pining , fluff , nsfw , angst , friend!taehyun , bff!yeonjun , roommate!yeonjun , college au , one-sided crushes , angst , pink-haired taehyun because why not, reader is a little ditzy but you mean well!! , pwp
warnings: smut (minors dni) , cursing , fingering , drinking , service top!taehyun (i need to spread this agenda please hear me out) , unprotected sex (reader is on the pill) , sane and consensual! , car sex (i have an obsession) , reader is going thru it
"in these stolen moments, the world is mine. there's nobody here—just us together. keepin' me hot like july forever."
a/n: hiii it's been a while! i've had this in the drafts for a little bit and i finally finished it yayyyy!! also happy 520+ in just a little over a month??? ily guys with all of my heart :,,,) i hope u enjoy!!! (this has only been proofread once so plz excuse any mistakes!)
wc: 8.17k
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you’ve never been a fan of pancakes. in fact, you had even won an online debate about how waffles are the better breakfast food back in middle school on some weird forum site. pancakes are just too starchy, too flimsy, and way too bland. you’d rather eat sand than willingly go out of your way to devour a plate of pancakes.
but as yeonjun hand feeds you a bite of the blueberry pancakes he made for your “friendiversary” (the friendship anniversary that you guys celebrate every year), you decide right then and there that you have become a pancake connoisseur—a devotee… a fanatic, if you will.
you hum in delight, clapping your hands in appreciation as you chew the slice of doughy goodness. yeonjun watches your reaction with hopeful eyes—those fox-like eyes, shining as the daylight from the kitchen window hits his irises, a chocolate brown ring hidden in the center. you think you can get lost in them forever: the way they bunch up when he smiles widely, the way his eyelashes frame them beautifully, the way they seem to display any and every emotion he feels. those captivating, enchanting eyes.
“does it taste okay?” yeonjun asks, his soft voice snapping you back into reality. you’re nodding quickly before you even realize it, giving him two thumbs up as you swallow the food. 
“i didn’t know you were a pancake expert,” you joke, picking up your own fork to grab a strawberry off of your plate. yeonjun shakes his head with a faint smile, pushing around the food on his plate as he watches you eat.
“i just threw some things together. guess i’m just a natural, huh?” his voice is filled with feign cockiness and you find yourself giggling at the way he leans back in his seat with his arms behind his head like some 90s chick-flick jock.
he looks especially good today—you don’t know if it’s just the warm feelings surrounding your friendiversary, or if it’s the way the sun rays frame his figure, creating a halo effect around his body. he’s perfect in your eyes; his black hair falls beautifully around his face, and his cheeks are naturally flushed pink from the warm air of your shared apartment. his lips are glossy with some syrup residue and you wish for nothing more than to kiss it off of him, tasting the sweetness of his mouth as your hands find their way to his—
“—ift today, so i have to go in. i’m really sorry, y/n.”
you blink, tilting your head a bit as you rip your attention from his lips. “sorry, what did you say?”
yeonjun sighs with a small, apologetic smile, bouncing his fork in his hands. “there was no one who could cover my shift for our friendiversary, so i still have to work today.”
his voice is filled with so much guilt, and despite the deep disappointment you feel in your chest, you don’t want to make him feel any worse. he doesn’t deserve to feel that way. you guys have celebrated your friendiversary every single year for the past decade and a half. from visiting the aquarium in sixth grade, to go-karting in ninth, to climbing onto the rooftop of your apartment complex to stargaze last year; you guys have done it all. there’s nothing wrong with cutting one short, right?
“oh, that’s okay! i… i still have some cramming i need to do, so that’ll definitely keep me busy.” you wave your hand to dismiss him with a small smile before quickly spooning another strawberry into your mouth to cover up the falter of your lips. yeonjun’s shoulders untense with relief, nudging your foot under the table—the action is quick to summon butterflies in your stomach, a small warmth rising to your face from the short contact. 
“i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?” and any hint of dismay in your body dissipates with the lopsided smile he sends your way, too distracted by the fluttery stuttering of your heart and the way those eyes glimmer in the morning sunlight.
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“i’m going to die.”
“you’re not going to die.”
“yes, i am. i’m going to die and it’ll be all your fault.”
taehyun deadpans you as you dramatically drape yourself across the library table, whining with your cheek pressed against the cool wood. today was supposed to be your friendiversary, and now here you are, face to face with your friend (and calculus tutor) in your stuffy campus library.
you mentally curse the current recession—yeonjun could’ve had the day off to cuddle and watch movies with you, but now he’s holed up in a dumb, understaffed clothing store. 
on top of it all, calculus seems to always have the ability to literally melt your brain through your ears, feeling yourself growing more and more delirious with every number and formula you write down. there’s a reason why you’re an english major.
taehyun simply watches you throw your contained fit, his demeanor blank with the slightest hint of amusement—he’s definitely used to it by now. with one final huff, you lift your head up, grabbing your pencil with vigor as you straighten your back.
“okay, let’s do this.”
a tiny puff of laughter fills the space around you as taehyun’s lips quirk up at your immediate change of pace, his eyebrows raised with entertainment.
“you sure you don’t need another minute?” he teases you with a sly smile and you give him a tiny glare in return.
“not everyone is a mathematical nerd like you, kang,” you retort, but the words are light and airy—it’s easy to banter with taehyun. you’ve known him since your freshman year, meeting him by chance at this exact library during exam season. you approached him first—he had on a t-shirt of a band you like a little too much and with your extroverted nature, you cracked through his shell quickly. 
you two would be complete opposites if it weren’t for the fact that you have so much in common with each other. he’s like the less talkative, “critically thinking”’version of you—he balances you out perfectly and you’re incredibly thankful to have a friend like him. he’s always open to listen to your rambling, help you out when you’re struggling in one of your classes, and provide silent company when you don’t want to be alone. 
you’re especially grateful that he willingly offered to help you prepare for your upcoming exams, knowing how scatterbrained you get when it comes to studying—and by the time it hits 5 p.m, you’re officially burnt out, unable to intake any more explanations of radians and whatnot. 
taehyun notices your attention drifting as you chew on the end of your pen, a tiny and fond smile falling onto his face. 
“how about we call it a day?” taehyun asks as he closes his textbook. you immediately brighten up, nodding aggressively—taehyun quietly laughs at your enthusiasm.
“wanna get something to eat? i think i’m actually going to die after all of this now.” you motion to the mess of paper and notes in front of you, hearing taehyun hum in agreement. you pack up quickly as you randomly stuff your papers into their proper (see: random) folders, ready to get some food in your stomach as you tell taehyun about this new show you’ve started watching. he listens intently, nodding along to your breakdown of the plot—you speak way too fast for anything to be even the slightest bit comprehensible, but your eagerness makes up for any lost translations.
the air is warm on your skin when you exit the library, soaking up the heat as you fall into step with taehyun next to you. as brutal as finals season is on you, it does leave one positive in your mind—summer is coming. 
you had planned a trip with yeonjun to your hometown for the first few weeks of summer—just the two of you with no distractions of work and assignments. alone. together. you were going to confess during this trip; you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t chicken out this time. you have liked yeonjun for years, ever since middle school, but you’ve been too afraid of losing him to actually tell him the truth about your feelings—but this is it. this will be the summer you tell him everything. you beam at the thought, already feeling giddy at just the idea. 
“watcha thinking about?” 
taehyun’s inquisitive voice enters your ears and you turn your head to look over at him. he’s already watching you, his big eyes focused on the goofy smile on your face. your neck heats up with embarrassment at the prospect of being caught daydreaming about your best friend, shaking your head.
“nothing, really. i just love when the sun’s out,” you speak, looking up to the clear sky as you silently applaud yourself for that on-the-spot excuse. you can still feel taehyun’s eyes on your face, but you brush it off as your phone rings in your hand. 
you look down at the caller i.d., your heart jumping at the giant display of letters that spell out “junnie bug”. his contact photo takes up your entire screen and you’re sure taehyun sees it as well—it’s a selfie yeonjun took when he used one of your hello kitty headbands to wash his face, his lips puckered up in a kissy face with a v by his eyes, winking at the camera. god, he’s so cute. 
quick to answer the phone, you press the device to your ear with a small smile on your lips, muttering out a quiet hello.
“hey, where are you right now?”
you scan the area, realizing you’re closing in on one of the campus restaurants, one you and yeonjun frequent weekly. 
“i’m about to grab dinner. why?” the line is quiet for a beat as you hear some shuffling and jingling before yeonjun finally responds.
“i got off early! come eat with me. i brought your favorite~” yeonjun sing-songs through the speaker of your phone. you pout a bit, glancing up at taehyun whose hands are shoved in his pocket as he looks off into the distance, giving you privacy to speak.
“i’m actually with taehyun right now…”
yeonjun makes a small, whiny sound, quick to intervene. “but it’s our friendiversary! plus, i have something i’ve been waiting to tell you.”
your heart stops in your chest for a moment as the words reach your ears, feeling the world around you slow down.
yeonjun has something to tell you.
he has something he's been waiting to tell you.
you try not to overthink it, but you can’t stop the conclusion from jumping into your head.
he’s going to confess. he’s going to confess!
you bite back a small squeal as you gain your composure, your eyes flickering over to taehyun once again. he’s a few steps behind you and you already feel bad for what you’re about to do—but yeonjun has something to tell you and your best friend always comes first.
(especially when he’s going to confess to you!)
“okay, i’ll be there soon! love you, junnie.”
“love you too. see you in a bit.”
and then the line goes silent. you try to hide your wide grin as you turn on your heel towards taehyun who stops in his tracks, his head cocking to the side at your excited demeanor. 
“hey, can we make a reign check? i’m really sorry,” you pout as you speak, but taehyun doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, nodding his head.
“yea, that’s okay. seems like you have somewhere important to be.” the small smile he gives you seems a little forced, but you’re too blinded by the excitement pooling in your gut to linger on it. you make a small happy noise, reaching out to pat taehyun’s arm softly.
“i’ll pay for dinner next time—pinky promise.” you hold out your pinky and taehyun’s eyes follow your hand, smiling a bit at the action.
“what, are we twelve?” he teases and you huff, gently jabbing your pinky into his arm. 
“pinky promises are the ultimate form of trust and commitment!” you declare with a self-assured nod. taehyun hesitates for a moment as he gives you an unreadable look before his warm pinky hooks onto yours, your thumbs pressing together in a silent seal. 
“thank you, kind sir,” you say in a horrible british accent and the corners of taehyun’s eyes crinkle in that darling way they do when he smiles. “i’ll see you tomorrow. bye, bye!”
if taehyun watches your figure retreat until you’ve disappeared around the corner of the communications building, and a short while after you’re already gone—well, that’s for only him to know.
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you’re nervous, you realize as you wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, taking in a deep breath as you stand outside of your apartment. one would think you’d be prepared for this, considering how many sleepless nights you’ve tossed and turned imagining this exact moment. the exact moment when yeonjun tells you, to your face, that he has been in love with you for years—and you would confirm that you feel the same way, and all would be well and dandy and you’d finally be able to breathe.
but your breath gets caught in your lungs the moment you see yeonjun sitting on the couch with a movie paused on the screen, all of your favored dishes from your favorite takeout place laid out in an array on the glass coffee table in the middle of the living room. time moves in slow motion when his head turns towards you as you walk through the front door, those butterflies making their way back to your belly the moment his eyes lock onto yours.
he’s always so gorgeous—even after being on his feet for hours due to his long shift, he still manages to look positively effortless. his plush lips are slightly parted in a wide smile as he beckons you over, his hair bouncing on his forehead at the movement. he’s shining, the sunset casting a wonderful glow over the living room, making his pristine skin look even more angelic than it usually does.
you’re in love. you’re absolutely, absolutely enamored with the man in front of you. 
it’s like a scene in a movie as you take a seat on the couch next to him, his arm coming to rest over your shoulders, pulling you into a tight side hug and… oh goodness, he smells so amazing. he’s had the same signature scent for years—a sweet grapefruit with hints of cedar and black currant. intoxicating, alluring. you subtly inhale as you bury your face in his shoulder, letting yourself bask in his warmth. his comfort.
you feel his body rumble with quiet laughter at the way you cling to him, his free hand coming up to pinch your cheek fondly. 
“hello to you too,” he speaks and you pop your head up to smile at him.
“i missed you. i think i lost half of my sanity after that study session,” you mumble as you pull your knees up to your chest, pressing yourself closer to yeonjun’s side.
“wasn’t taehyun there to help, though?” yeonjun questions as he massages the back of your neck. you hum in response, your eyes slipping shut as your body relaxes.
“he’s the only reason i didn’t actually go insane,” you groan and yeonjun laughs a bit at your theatrics. “but enough of that. it’s friendiversary time!”
you try to ignore the anticipation bubbling in your chest as the night goes on. yeonjun seems to have pushed the “something” he’s been “waiting” to tell you to the back burner of his mind, laughing and joking around as per usual as some corny 2000s chick flick plays on the t.v. screen. you’re painfully aware though, your eyes glancing over at him during every bout of prolonged silence, trying to egg him on with subtle words—and by the time the movie finally ends, you think he’s forgotten completely.
but then he turns his body towards you, and if you weren’t already hyperfocused on his entire presence, you would’ve missed the way he takes a subtle deep breath, silently preparing himself for whatever he’s about to tell you. naturally, your body faces him as well, your hands in your lap as you dismiss the rapid pounding of your heart in your chest. 
it’s finally happening.
yeonjun cracks a small smile to break the growing tension in the room and you swoon at the way his cheeks bunch up in that adorable way they do.
“soooo,” he starts and you can’t help but to smile a bit at his unusually awkward demeanor—choi yeonjun, you’re choi yeonjun, is actually nervous right now. something about it makes you feel a little fluttery; just the sight of his face reddening makes your stomach flip. he’s so cute.
“soooo…?” you echo, nudging his knee with yours. he chuckles a bit, one of his hands coming up to rub the back of his neck.
“remember how i said there’s something i’ve been waiting to tell you?” he speaks slowly as if he’s thinking of every word he says before they exit his mouth. you nod, trying to hide your growing grin. “so, um…”
this is it. this is it. your days of pining are finally over. you’ll be able to kiss, hug, and love yeonjun all you want, as loudly as you want. you’ll finally be his.
“i think i’m going to throw up from the suspense,” you blurt out and your words help to lighten the mood, yeonjun laughing again as his hand drops back down to his lap. 
“i guess i’ll just say it then,” he inhales once before his next sentence tumbles off of his lips like an avalanche, destroying your world with every passing millisecond. you’re dunked underwater as your breath hitches in your throat, your hearing muffled as you watch yeonjun’s lips move, but none of it reaches your ears.
you can’t think. you don’t want to think. it’s all too sudden and you feel your hands tremble slightly in your lap as yeonjun’s eyes fill with adoration as he talks about the girl from his fashion department. 
“we’re official. me and eunbin… we’re dating.”
he’s so happy as he lulls on about the exact moment everything happened; the way her eyes lit up, the way she jumped into his arms, the way she kissed him on the lips. how she’s so smart and mature. how she’s beautiful and confident and charming in every way. how she’s exactly what he needs at this point in his life. 
how she isn’t you.
you have always kind of been aware of the fact that the girl had a crush on yeonjun. she’d always be by his side walking through campus, hanging off his arm like a koala, overly affectionate with skinship. but yeonjun was friendly too, and he’s touchy with all of his friends—it’s his love language. you’ve never thought too much of it seeing as yeonjun always returns home to you. cuddling you at night when you can’t sleep. cooking you breakfast and dinner almost every day. matching outfits with you. staying up late to talk with you. 
you were just too stupid—too naive… too blinded by your own infatuation with the man to realize that his eyes weren’t set on you this entire time. you were just his comfort. his roommate. his best friend. and nothing more.
you aren’t sure if you’re still present in your body—it feels as if you’re watching the entire scene from afar, somewhere high up in the clouds. away from yeonjun. away from yourself. 
you want to cry, already feeling a lump form in your throat as your waterline burns with tears, but yeonjun’s smile is the widest you’ve seen it be in a while, and those eyes… those same eyes you’ve found yourself getting lost in one too many times… they’re so big and bright tonight as he rambles on about this girl. this girl who is everything you’re not. 
it feels as if your heart shrivels up and falls into your stomach right then, fighting to make a smile form on your trembling lips. you want to be joyful for your best friend—you really do—but it just hurts so, so much and you’re about to break at any second.
“i’m so happy for you, junnie,” you mumble out quietly, positive that if you speak any louder, your voice will crack and give it all away. yeonjun directs that endearing smile your way and you feel your heart break even more.
“thank you, y/n. you’re… you’re the first person i’ve told so i was a little nervous. thank you, really.” yeonjun lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls you into a hug. it should’ve been warm and cherished, filling you with nothing but precious feelings—but you can’t help that ice-cold feeling that washes over you as you inhale his citrusy cologne, patting his back with a shaky hand. when he pulls away, he has this little dazed smile on his face—he’s definitely thinking about her—and your gut churns with the ickiest feeling you’ve ever felt. 
“you know it’s hard for me to open up to people,” he continues, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can sit here while holding in your tears. “but with her, it’s just like… it’s so natural and easy. she reminds me of you, actually. she always understands me in the way that you do.”
no, she doesn’t. 
“i’m glad,” you mutter out and he doesn’t even process your short response, too busy lost in thought as he smiles down at his lap. 
you can’t. you can’t. 
“‘m gonna go to the bathroom,” you speak, standing before he even acknowledges your words. your tears are already falling down your cheeks as soon as you turn your back to him, your legs moving quicker than the speed of light as you shut the bathroom door behind you, letting it all rush out. 
you muffle your quick breathing with the sleeve of your sweater so yeonjun can’t hear—you don’t want to ruin this moment for him. he’s still your best friend, and he deserves all of the happiness in the world. but you’re selfish and your heart hurts a little too much; all of those years of pining and chasing… 
this truly sucks.
you don’t know how long you sit in there, but it must’ve been long enough for yeonjun to become worried seeing as a knock soon sounds from the door.
“y/n, you okay?”
you quickly pat your cheeks dry with your palm, nodding your head before remembering he can’t see you from the other side of the wall.
“yeah, ‘m just getting ready for bed!” you call out, cringing slightly at your hoarse voice. hearing an affirmative hum from yeonjun in the hallway, you turn on the sink to wash the tear tracks from your face. 
now this is definitely a friendiversary to remember.
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taehyun has always had a knack for being incredibly perceptive—you like to call it his “kitty senses”, the way his nose twitches cutely when he spots something in the distance, or the way he perks up when he hears something interesting. he always seems to be aware of the space and those around him, noticing the little things, and paying close attention to detail. maybe that’s the reason why he blinks so little; he’s always keeping an eye out for the minuscule things people usually overlook.
so when your laugh isn’t quite as full as it usually is, and your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes, and your fingers keep fidgeting with the zipper of your jacket—taehyun knows something is up.
it’s not like you’re not trying to hide it. you had made sure to put on extra concealer that morning to hide your sleepy eyes from your lack of sleep, which is useless because already sure you’ll be crying it off by the end of the day. you try to joke around with taehyun as usual, but you can’t seem to stop your mind from drifting. 
it hurts—it hurts so bad, and as much as you wish to just accept reality and move on, some part of you still wants to believe that this is all a dream. some horrible, horrible joke the universe decided to play on you. you just want it to all be over.
taehyun’s over at your place today. yeonjun has work until 6 and you really don’t think you can bring yourself to leave the dark, brooding coven that has become your bedroom, so you came up with a flimsy excuse of the library being too hot to study in today.
“let’s take a break,” taehyun’s voice sounds from your desk, successfully making you look up from where you’re laid stomach down on your bed. in all honesty, you’ve been repeatedly reading the same sentence for the past ten minutes, drawing the conclusion that you’re definitely not going to get anything done today. 
you sigh with a small nod, moving to sit crisscross as you shut your laptop, feeling your shoulders slump. taehyun’s watching you—you can feel his eyes follow your movement as you move your laptop to your bedside table, your lips adorning a permanent frown. 
you don’t even bother to check your phone as you flop backward onto your bed; it’s not yeonjun’s fault that you feel this way—you know that. he’s not responsible for the way your stomach swoops when he smiles, or the way your skin tingles when his hand lingers on your face for a little too long. it’s your fault for jumping to conclusions, for seeing everything through rose-tinted glasses.
it’s your fault for falling for him so hard. 
and here comes that feeling again; that lump in your throat, the churning of your insides, the sting behind your eyes. too caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t process the dip in your bed as taehyun takes a seat next to you.
“are you alright?”
his voice is oh so soft as you turn your head to look at him—those big eyes scan over your body as he tries to read what’s wrong, seeing his kitty senses working a thousand miles a second. you catch the way his fingers twitch as if he wants to touch you, but his body is stiff with uncertainty.
you almost want to cry simply at the way he so obviously cares, his brows knit together, eyes searching yours for an answer you aren’t giving him. he’s lovely, you render, as you scoot over to give him some space to slip in next to you as you curl up to his side. it’s nothing new; you’re used to sharing a bed with taehyun to get in quick power naps during cramming, or to scroll through your phones in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. 
but something feels different this time as he wraps his arm around you, his fingers tickling your arm. your head rests on his shoulder while your index finger draws random patterns on his chest, his black t-shirt bunching and scrunching up with the movement. it’s quiet as he strokes your arm, the pads of his fingers making goosebumps rise to your sensitive skin. you don’t realize how bad you need this—the warmth of his body is so nice and you can already feel your walls coming down as you sniffle, a few tears escaping your eyes.
“‘m gonna get your shirt all wet,” you mumble, and taehyun just laughs a bit, resting his head on top of yours.
“i don’t mind,” he replies quietly and you immediately break, the dam collapsing as your tears soak into his shirt, accepting all of the untamed emotions running wild inside of your body. taehyun holds you silently and gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in an attempt at solace. 
heartbreak is a weird, weird thing. it feels like you’re yearning for something that you know you’ll never have. craving the touch of someone you’ll never be able to hug and kiss and love in the way you want to. you don’t believe you’ve ever felt anything like this before.
so you let yourself cry, and cry, and cry as taehyun nuzzles his cheek into your hair—a silent reminder that he’s still right here next to you.
he doesn’t ask any questions, and in a way, you’re thankful for that. what would you even say? your bestfriend broke your heart even though you guys were never together in the first place? it sounds ridiculous in any way you can think of wording it, so you bask in the silence as you let everything out.
by the time your tears slow down, your fingers are clenching the front of taehyun’s shirt like a lifeline… and he lets you hold onto him for as long as you need. you don’t know what you have ever done to deserve a friend like him. always ready to catch you when you fall, giving reassurance when you need it, and always prepared to lend a helping hand. 
you find yourself lifting your head to find taehyun’s eyes already on you, his hand slipping from your arm to your waist at your movement. his eyes are clouded with apprehension, and you’re sure you look an absolute mess right now with your swollen eyes and tear-stained skin. but there is something left unsaid in the air as your eyes trail down to his pink lips; his hand grips your waist a little tighter, his big eyes flickering quickly between yours.
his eyes are different than yeonjun’s—while yeonjun’s are filled with memories of home and familiarity, taehyun’s are present and swirling with unadulterated want. he wants to be here with you. 
everything is muted save for your air conditioning, the quiet hum from the fan of taehyun’s laptop sitting on your desk, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
you shouldn’t do it. you know this is a bad, bad, bad idea. you’re still not over yeonjun—you’re not ready to move on yet. but that feeling of heartbreak and pure longing wraps around your brain and you just need something, someone to make it all pause. the feeling of taehyun’s hand on your waist is grounding as his thumb brushes over your your clothed skin, his dark brown irises still fixated on you, waiting. and waiting. and waiting.
your lips are on his before you can give anything another thought. 
he kisses you as delicately as he holds you, giving you the lead, and allowing you to take whatever you want from him. his lips are incredibly soft—you taste his vanilla and peppermint chapstick on your tongue, getting lost in the slightly tingly sensation. your mind is hazy as your hand trails up from his chest to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse under the pads of your fingers, pressing closer to him to deepen the kiss.
his tongue swipes across your bottom lip in silent permission and you gladly give in, parting your lips for him. a quiet moan slips out as his free hand tugs your thigh over his waist, moving you to straddle him. his body is firm and sturdy underneath you, your hands falling to his shoulders as you steady yourself.
it should end here… it really should—but then taehyun tilts his head and takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and his hands are so heavy and pleasant on your waist and you’re reminded of citrus and home and…
he pulls away slowly, his chest rising and falling quickly as he stares up at your figure.
“y/n…”
his breathy voice quickly makes you come to your senses.
guilt overrides your body as you realize—you just took advantage of your friend’s kindness and company, all because of your own stupid feelings. a grave emotion washes over you as you shake your head, quickly moving off of his body as taehyun sits up.
because only then does it dawn on you that you were pretending taehyun’s lips were yeonjun’s.
“hey, hey, it’s okay—”
“no, i can’t—fuck, i’m so sorry, taehyun,” you spill out as you climb off of him, creating distance between the two of you, unable to meet his hurt eyes. you don’t want to cry again, but the stinging behind your eyes comes back in full force. the shame is too much; taehyun is so kind and you just—you used him for temporary validation. “you should… you should go.”
taehyun is silent and you see him nod in the peripheral of your vision, lingering for a second before he slips off of your bed. he’s quiet and quick as he collects his things, and your eyes only watch his figure once his back is turned toward you. you try to pretend you don’t notice the weighted gaze he gives you before leaving. 
it’ll give you one less thing to cry about tonight.
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you need another drink.
the slight buzz in your body is not enough to blur out the sight in front of you as you lean against the wall holding a plastic cup tightly in your hand. you’ve never really had a problem with pda—if couples want to show their admiration for each other in public, then so be it. it isn’t any of your business, truly.
but now, your stomach seems to lurch as you watch eunbin kiss up yeonjun’s neck, sitting prettily in his lap on the living room couch as yeonjun smiles that perfect smile at something she whispers in his ear. theoretically, you can simply look away, or walk away, even—but your feet stay planted where they are as your hands shake slightly. 
you aren’t sure how long heartbreak is supposed to linger, or how long it should take before you stop thinking about how that could’ve been you… should’ve been you. jealousy is one hell of an emotion, and you try your absolute best to keep it at bay; yeonjun owes you nothing, but the spite eats away at you as you bring your nearly empty drink back up to your lips. 
a body shuffles up next to you, but you don’t pay them any mind, your ears ringing with the pulse of the music reverberating through the walls. you’re definitely not drunk enough to enjoy the atmosphere, too hyperfocused on the way yeonjun’s head tips back in a hearty laugh as eunbin swats at his chest playfully. 
“you look like you need some air.”
your head whips to the side at the words, coming face-to-face with taehyun, his eyes holding a type of intensity you’ve never seen before. a dejected laugh leaves your lips as you tilt your head back, nodding slightly in response. 
“yeah, i probably do.”
taehyun’s hand is slipping into yours before you can even process his grip, tugging you towards the front door of the house. there aren’t too many people in the front yard—just a small group passing a blunt on the porch, someone in an intense argument on the phone, and a few people loitering by their cars. 
you follow taehyun to the steps of the porch, taking a seat on the cement. it’s dark out, but the air is still slightly humid, making your skin feel sticky and warm. taehyun’s hand is still in yours as you scoot closer to him to allow some people to walk up the other half of the steps, your thigh pressing against his. 
he’s silent as he looks ahead, and you can feel tension filling in the space around you both. it’s been a couple of weeks since you two have spoken—you’ve felt too guilty to face him after that kiss, but now you find yourself looking over at his figure. maybe the alcohol is working better than you thought.
his brows are slightly furrowed, one of his legs bouncing up and down incessantly. the low glow of the porch light illuminates him in a way that makes it impossible to look away, your eyes trailing from his cat-like eyes, to the slope of his nose, to his soft lips. 
his soft lips.
you rip your eyes away from them. you aren’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“y/n, did i do something wrong?” taehyun questions quietly, his eyes finally landing on your face. there’s something cloudy and uncertain behind them, something that you can’t quite put a name to.
“no, taehyun, you didn’t—it’s not your fault. i’m just…” you sigh, your gaze focusing on the way his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. “there’s a lot on my mind right now.”
taehyun nods slowly, turning his head away from you again. 
“is there anything i can do to help?”
he doesn’t mention the kiss. he doesn’t mention the way you’ve practically been avoiding his existence. 
you don’t know if it’s your tipsy state, or if it’s the way his body heat radiates onto you or the way his eyes flicker back up to yours when you’re quiet for a second—but then you catch the way they travel down to your lips and you’re in the backseat of his car in the blink of an eye.
it’s warm, too warm, as you straddle his lap, your hands tangled into his hair as he kisses down your neck, hands on your hips to steady you. you don’t want to think anymore—you don’t want to hang onto something you’ll never have.
so you let taehyun distract you at this moment.
“you can use me however you’d like,” he breathes out heavily as your hands come to rest on his chest. “use me to get over him.”
your body stiffens as the words slip out of his mouth, meeting his eyes in the darkness of the car. 
“how… how did you…?” your voice is breathless as you trail off, the corners of his lips quirking up into a sad smile.
“i’ve always noticed the way you look at him, y/n.”
your eyes are unfocused in the low light as you gaze at taehyun’s state, his pupils blown wide in the darkness of the car, only a side of his face lit up golden from the street lights outside. his lips are bright pink and bitten raw, his fading pink hair messy and falling onto his forehead in fluffy waves. he’s always been gorgeous, a fact you could never deny, but in this moment, he looks absolutely unreal.
sudden guilt fills your chest at the thought, shaking your head quickly.
“i can’t do that to you, taehyun,” you replied weakly. he’s shaking his head now, his big hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your soft skin delicately.
“i want you to. i hate seeing you like this,” his hand drops down to cover one of yours, feeling his chest rise and fall under your palm. “i’ll do anything you want me to, y/n. you just have to say the words.”
his voice is low and faint, gazing at you with his pretty brown eyes. they flicker in between yours, trying to read the emotions on your face in the limited light. you nibble on your lip as you feel his rapid heartbeat through his shirt, your mind scattered and dizzy.
“please. let me help you.”
a hot flash courses through your body at the pure desperation in his voice—and something in you snaps at that exact moment, your lips crashing onto his vanilla and peppermint ones. the kiss is messy and feverish as your hands run up and down his torso, teeth clashing with the vehemence of it all. you feel his hands drop to your hips, holding you down onto him as his tongue explores your mouth, running across your teeth, swiping across your lips. he tastes like cheap liquor, and you’re sure you do too, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.
you press down on him, your hands running over his toned stomach, up to his pecs, over his shoulders; anything you can reach. you shut your mind off, not letting yourself focus on anything other than taehyun taehyun taehyun taehyun.
he’s moving you, you realize as your back presses against the cool leather of his back seat. he doesn’t break the kiss once as he hovers over you, hiking your skirt up to run his hand up your leg, running his nails over the sensitive skin of your thigh. you allow your legs to fall open so he can comfortably slot himself in between them, feeling his bulge press against your pulsing core just right. 
a faint gasp leaves your lips as he grinds against your clothed cunt, already feeling yourself leaking through the thin fabric. one of your legs wraps around him to pull him even closer to you, drowning out all of your senses with the scent of his cologne, his hair tickling your cheek as he kisses down your neck. his hand leaves your thigh to slip under your top before his fingers dance over your stomach, brushing over your bra—admiring every inch of you as you arch up into his touch.
“tell me what you want, baby,” he pants against your neck, nipping the flesh there. you stifle a moan as his fingers brush over the wet spot on your panties. “come on, use your words.”
“i want… fuck—i want your fingers in me.” 
he’s quick to obey, pushing your panties to the side to rub his middle finger up and down your dripping slit, a low groan leaving his lips as your hand finds its way to his hair, tugging at the pink strands to hurry him up.
you moan softly as he slips his first finger in, curling it upwards as he pumps in and out of your clenching hole. the car is filled with the sounds of your soaked cunt, his heavy pants, and your moans as he finger fucks you, slipping in another two easily with how wet you are. his fingers are incredibly long and slender, reaching parts of you that you’ve never been able to hit by yourself. 
when his lips find yours again, it’s much slower, his fingers matching the restrained pace as he kisses you deeply, devouring all of your little noises. your hips buck up as his thumb rubs circles onto your swollen clit, your fingers tightening in his hair.
he seems to be in no rush as he takes you apart slowly, hitting that spot inside of you perfectly as you leak onto his seat, body shaking with pleasure. there’s a small smile resting on his lips when he pulls back to peer down at you, taking in the way your lips part and your brows furrow as he speeds up, pressing down on your clit just right.
you can’t control the noises leaving your lips as you grind onto his hand, chasing your high as he pumps into you. his actions don’t slow down when he moves up to capture your lips again, curling his fingers inside of you as his thumb rubs your clit. you grab his biceps, needing something to ground you as you feel your impending orgasm rushing upon you. 
“taehyun—fuck, ‘m cumming…”
he swallows all of your moans as you tip over the edge, your back arching up into his hold as white fills your vision. you can hear the gentle praise leaving his lips through the ringing of your ears, your body left feeling fuzzy and warm as his fingers slow before gradually pulling out of your sensitive hole. 
“so good for me,” he mutters against your lips, his own traveling down your jaw. you feel dizzy as you catch your breath, leaning into his touch.
“i need you,” you mumble as he lifts his head to catch your gaze. he looks completely enamored, his big eyes glossy, reflecting the light from the street lamps outside.  “i need you in me. fuck me, taehyun.”
 he smiles before sitting back to undo his pants. “anything you want, baby.”
it’s all a blur as he’s back on top of you again, his length hard and throbbing against his stomach as he captures your lips again. his hands roam every piece of your skin he can touch, sucking marks onto your collarbone. claiming you.
you reach down to grab his heavy dick in your hand, stroking him a few times. he sighs lowly in your ear, whispering praise and encouragement that just turns you on even more. it’s hard to be patient when taehyun is bucking up into your hand, your mind clouding up by his hot tongue trailing over your skin. he seems to sense your urgency, placing one last kiss on your lips before lining up with your entrance.
“i’ve got you,” he whispers as if his voice was only made for you to hear. you nod quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses his forehead against yours. the heat radiating from his body manages to make your clothed, scorching skin even warmer, moaning out softly once you feel him push into you. his eyes flutter shut as you clench around him. “fuck—you feel so good.”
you bite your lip to keep quiet as he slowly thrusts into you, wrapping your other leg around his waist as if it would bring you impossibly closer to him. your fingers tangle gently in his hair, tugging slightly in a way that drives him absolutely crazy.
soft grunts leave his lips once he speeds up, the sound of skin on skin drowning out the muffled music in the distance. your eyes are half-lidded as you strain to keep them open, wanting to watch the way his jaw clenches and his brows furrow. it’s all too much as you take in the fluttery tickles of his lips on your cheek and jaw, the way he stretches you out with his thick cock, the way his hands tightly grip onto your waist as if you could disappear at any moment. 
every thrust into your heat makes your stomach flip with pleasure, getting lost in the feeling of his hips snapping against yours perfectly. he kisses you once more before he leans back, hands slipping down your hips to fuck you even harder, the car rocking with his strokes. you can’t control your sounds anymore, getting closer and closer to the edge with every move. you can tell he’s getting close too by the way his rhythm falters — his grip on you is tight, and you know there would be marks to cover up by the morning. 
“‘m so close,” you squeak out as he intertwines one of your hands, his other forearm resting by your head to lean down to kiss your lips again. 
“me too, baby,” he speaks against your lips, his hips stuttering. “you’re so perfect, y/n, fuck.”
you can already feel your high crashing upon you with one last stroke, your own whimpers falling deaf to your ears as his words tip you over the edge. your body buzzes with electricity as you clench around him, feeling him pump his thick ropes of cum into you at the action, his moans high and breathy in your ear as you cum together.
it takes you a second to come back to your surroundings, blinking your eyes open to see taehyun watching you, silently stroking your hair. he’s still nestled inside of you, but you don’t really mind. he leans down to capture your lips again—it’s passionate and unrushed as he tries to convey every single emotion he’s feeling, his hands coming up to cradle your face. 
you can’t think of anything other than the way your heart flutters as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing still uneven as his eyes open to gaze into yours. 
“thank you,” you whisper, your stomach swooping as he smiles, that dimple on his right cheek peeking out in the darkness.
“don’t thank me,” and his voice is dripping with so much sincerity, you find yourself unable to look away from his eyes, your hand coming up to rest on top of his. with a small giggle, you glance down at your intertwined bodies.
“i think we should clean up,” you speak light-heartedly as your nose brushes taehyun’s, and he lets out a small puff of laughter, nodding in agreement.
you don’t know what any of this means anymore—how your heart flutters at the way taehyun gently cleans you up before pulling you back in his lap to kiss you silly, how he drives you home, walking you up to your door with your fingers interlaced with his. how you linger for a moment, not wanting to leave his side so soon even though you can barely keep your eyes open long enough to unlock the front door.
but all you know is that yeonjun doesn’t cross your mind again for the rest of the night.
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reblogs are very much appreciated!
masterlist
©️BEOM-PYU
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kairiscorner · 8 months
Note
CONGRATS ON 1.5K POOKIE ‼️❤️😼😼
if u have time i wanna like request a 42!miles x reader where reader hears some girls shit talking miles about random stuff u pick !! and then she gets like super mad at confronts them and it turns into like this bigass fight a crowd forms and everything and maybe it could be like outside the building where miles is and him and ganke are eating and they hear the noises and stuff and miles is like “wtf is that.. 🌚” and ganke looks out the window and he’s just like “bro it’s ur girl what the fuck.. ⁉️⁉️😨⁉️” and miles is just like 🏃‍♀️💨 and pushes the big ass crowd away n sees his girlfriend beating the shit out of the person and he like breaks it up and takes her out of the area and she explains the whole thing ab how it was ab him and he’s jus like “you don’t even know how much i love you what the hell. ⁉️⁉️😣” and it’s just fluffy in the end ????
HELP WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO SPECIFIC.. if this is like too long don’t even worry about it pookie you already feed me enough w all ur fics im in LOOVVVEVEVE !! anyways congrats again 😼😼
say that again to my face. — miles 42 x fem!reader
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summary: sometimes, people forget that they should be minding their own business instead of giving their unsolicited opinions on matters they have nothing good to say about—and especially not to offend a guy's girlfriend by shit talking her boy when she's not taking any of your shit. pairing: miles 42 x fem!reader genre: slight angst and comfort word count: 1,519 author's note: AWW POOKIE, THANKIES !! man ngl, i like the thought of reader being the type of person to not take your shit and be the defender this time instead of miles, HE DESERVES SOMEBODY WHO'S WILLING TO GET HURT FOR HIM, TOO, OKAY !!! omg i hope you like this 💖💖💖
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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the shuffling of feet and excited, worried clamoring of other students as they drew more attention to the occurrence outside of the school building was creating more and more tension as nearly everyone exited the cafeteria and went outside to the school grounds. "what's... going on?" miles asked ganke as they exited the cafeteria, with ganke's eyes widening as he got a good look of what was going on and who exactly was the center of attention right now for a not-so good reason. he grabbed miles by the shoulders and dragged him to a spot where he could view the chaos a little better. "dude, it's your girl, she's going crazy on this other girl!" he exclaimed with a rushed voice, worried for you as much as miles should've been, had he known it was you all along being gathered around and filmed as chaos ensued.
as soon as miles heard that his girl was getting some unwanted attention–having a whole crowd surround her–he had to get her out of there immediately. he wove his way through the people filming, cheering and chanting, and merely watching as you throttled this girl you were fighting the best you could–repeating to her as she exclaimed and tried fighting you back: 'what, too scared to say it again? huh? i'll show you who you're messing with this time, bitch!' the crowd went wild hearing you cuss, it wasn't rare for you to cuss since practically everyone was aware you weren't the most innocent person around—but you were definitely a sweetheart, to the right people; no one could believe you were capable of hurting someone this badly, not even miles could believe you were saying all these awful things that sounded so uncharacteristic of you. as miles made his way towards you, his eyes widened, his heart sinking in his stomach as he watched you wrestle with this other girl and screaming at her–hurling insults and taunts at her through teary eyes, yelling out in pain as she pulled at your hair and tried scratching at your face.
"mi cielo, enough!" he exclaimed as he dashed over to you, nearly tripping over as he got in between you two and took the other girl's hits for you. ganke had made his way through the crowd and helped you up, with miles telling everyone the fight was over, there was nothing left to watch, as he jogged off to see you by the infirmary as the crowd gathered around the girl fighting with you just earlier. after you got patched up, ganke left you and miles to have a talk together. miles founs it very out of character for you to have done what you did–after all, you hated violence; there was no way you would've fought that girl for no reason, not unless it was a good reason. "babe, please... what happened?" miles asked you in a soft, worried tone as he placed his hand on your arm and gently caressed you, rubbing your arm slowly up and down, hoping you'd answer when you were ready.
you took in a deep breath and pulled out your phone. "i know this isn't the most justified reason, but, miles... watch this." you told him as you unlocked your phone, scrolled over to your gallery and clicked on a recently taken video of you on the thumbnail. miles obliged and took the phone from your hands, watching the video as it played out. the video started off as a sweet little video message you were gonna send miles, a cute little short of showing him the dance moves you were practicing for fun and ask him what he thought–you were filming this by the sinks at the girl's comfort room, with nobody else there–until midway in the video, a couple of popular kids that used to bully you had entered, and you soon took your phone away, forgetting to pause the recording.
you remained silent and pretended to wash your hands, propping your phone down as you washed your hands to cover up anything else you were doing earlier, not wanting to attract these girls' attention. they were in deep conversation about such shallow things–boys, clothes, victims of their bullying escapades and laughing at their poor, pitiful faces–and you were getting all the more disgusted the longer you heard them. one of the girls then mentioned a name you were quite familiar with, it was, of course, your boyfriend's name.
"oh, yeah, that morales kid... he's kinda weird, not gonna lie." said the girl, causing you to involuntarily look their way. the other girls agreed, stating that he seemed too quiet or too cringy in his outfits, in his shoes, in his choice of friends–or in their eyes, his lack thereof. they cackled to themselves how, for a cute boy from middle school, he ended up seeming like a real 'weirdo'. "it's such a shame... i honestly found his whole little sweetheart act in middle school so adorable, now he's just a killjoy. guess his dad not being around taught him how to turn girls away from him instead of making him even a bit likeable." "what did you say?" you butt in, drying your hands, the camera still rolling and you not noticing.
the girls looked your way with quizzical looks in their eyes, they don't remember you since you had quite the difference in your appearance from when they bullied you a few years ago, but nonetheless, you seemed like a bug to them–a pest–like every other kid at this school that was at their disposal. the girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing you up and down. "who are you?" "not important. now, what did you say again?" you asked her, your eyes narrowing at her, with her eyes narrowing down at yours. the girl chuckled and sauntered over to you, her face in the frame now–looking completely different than the beaten and battered girl from earlier. she smirked at you and neared her face to yours, which was still scowling at her. "i get it... you like him, don't you? figures, a little... nobody like you with a little freak like him, acting like little weirdos that think they're more than muck in gutters, thinking they're hot shit for standing up to me–" and with that, your nostrils flared as you fumed, and grabbed at her hair; furious that she had the gall to talk to you that way.
miles watched incredulously as you kept pulling the girl's hair, practically screaming at her to say what she said again as the girl retaliated and slapped at your hands, yelling for the girls with her to get you off her–but those girls did nothing to help. they walked out of the comfort room and presumably ran off out the halls to avoid your wrath. and after some roughhousing... you two ended up at the school grounds, where that all went down. after watching, miles looked at you with pain in his eyes; guilty tears soon filling his eyes as shameful tears filled yours as you clung on to miles' sleeve.
"babe, i'm sorry... nothing will ever make this better, but i... i never meant to hurt her, i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to cause a scene, i... i just couldn't bear to have them say that to you..." you mumbled out in choked sobs as you began to cry. miles shushed you and wiped the tears from your eyes, cupping your face and holding you close to him as he set your phone away. "mi amor... i'm sorry, i'm sorry you... oh, i can't even... you didn't have to do that for me. i... i'm okay with being labelled as a weirdo, a freak–just as long as you don't get hurt. that's all i want... i love you more than you could ever know, you don't even... i love you, mi vida..." he whispered as he kissed your forehead, eliciting more tears to fall down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly.
if he was gonna be honest, if someone else said the same things about you, miles would not hesitate to have done as you did–confront those assholes and show them what's what; but having that fone for him felt so... different. he felt guilty, somehow, that you got hurt and hurt someone for him–risked getting disciplinary action for him and getting a lot of people against you for him. he wants to make it up to you, but all he can do now is be here in the moment and reassure you that, no matter what other people may think of him, nothing matters to him as long as he has you by his side to be his strength to keep fighting every day and live. he'd gladly wear the title of 'freaky little weirdo' while hand-in-hand with you–because as long as you'd be safe, as long as you'd be okay, that's all that matters to him–nothing else, just you and him together.
tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @euphovlq
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Text
"you can do whatever you want, you're not Stuck With Me."
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"i'll tell you one thing, we'd make history, you and me. you're getting closer now, it's getting better now, but you're still so far gone."
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synopsis// bottled up feelings have to come out eventually.
pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader
word count// 8k
contents// angst with a happy ending, college!au, literally just y/n and geto being idiots but mostly y/n, shoko only knows tough love, obligatory rain scene, friends to lovers, ooc geto?
notes// scorpions are haunting me so i’m posting this as a distraction. anyways one of my anons requested this!!! so anon i hope i did ur idea justice and that u like it sorry its kinda all over the place.... anywho so besides this being a request, it was also inspired by the song the point by eatmewhileimhot! bye :3 OH and if anyone else has any other requests feel free to lmk!!
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You poke at your food, focusing on the sound your fork makes as it scrapes against your plate instead of whatever the person sitting across from you is saying. You know you should pay attention; you know you’re being rude, but god, are you bored out of your fucking mind. You would much rather be hanging out with Suguru right now, feeling a twinge of regret at turning him down just for this.
“Y/N?” 
Your head raises to look at the person in front of you. “Huh?” 
They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
You frown sheepishly. “Uh, no, sorry.”
“It’s fine,“ they say, clearing their throat, “I was just saying how I kinda wish we went somewhere else cause I'm craving zaru soba, but I wanted to impress you, you know?”
You nod, not computing the last of his sentence with your brain stuck on the mention of zaru soba. “Suguru likes that.”
“What?”
“Zaru soba—Suguru likes that.”
Your date shoots you a confused stare, and you subconsciously sink into your chair.
“Is, uh, is there something on my face or?” you ask, bringing your hands up to feel around your face.
They shake their head. “No, it’s just—uh, you bring up this Suguru guy a lot, and by a lot, I mean like you’ve brought him up this whole date...”
“I have?” 
They nod. 
“Shit—i’m sorry..” 
“It’s fine.” They dismiss your apology by asking, “What is he to you anyway?”
You stare at him blankly. That’s an easy question. Suguru, to you, is your—he’s your—
“He your friend or something?”
Yes! Suguru is your friend—your best friend even—so why can't you say it out loud? Why are you hesitating?
You laugh nervously, mumbling, “Or something...”
“Or something?” they repeat in hopes you’ll elaborate on what you mean.
You don’t.
Instead, you stand abruptly out of your seat and gather your things. “Um! You know, this has been really great and all, but I actually think I should get going.”
"Oh, okay,” they say, standing up with you. “Uh, do you wanna do this again maybe?”
“You're a lovely person, but...
“It's Suguru, isn't it?”
“What?” You almost choke on your spit as you frantically stammer, “No, uh, no! It's not Suguru-Suguru’s just my-it's-“ you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It's not because of him.”
They curtly hum. “Thanks for giving me a chance anyway.”
You nod. “I'm gonna—I'm gonna go.”
☆☆☆☆
Suguru is face down on a pillow on his bed when Gojo walks into their shared dorm.
“What happened now?” He asks as he goes to sit on the edge of Suguru’s bed.
“Y/N’s on a date,” he grumbles into the pillow, his words barely audible.
Gojo rolls his eyes. "Suguru, this is just sad at this point.”
Suguru lifts his head and glares at Gojo from over his shoulder. His eyes burning holes into the other's head.
“What? It is!” 
Suguru groans and kicks Gojo as he buries his face back into his pillow.
“Ow! Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth!”
Suguru kicks him again.
“Stop that! You’re acting like a child!”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Ok, listen, this isn’t about me,” Gojo adds, rolling his eyes.
Suguru rolls onto his back and drapes an arm over his face, muttering, “Whatever.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Gojo grumbles as he stands up and walks over to his own bed. “I can't take this, Suguru.“ He grabs his pillow and throws it at Suguru. "You can't do this every time they go on a date!”
Suguru doesn’t even flinch when the pillow lands on his face, nor does he bother moving it as he responds, “Watch me.”
Gojo walks back over to Suguru and grabs the pillow from his face before resuming his position on the end of Suguru's bed. "How long has it been?”
“Since?”
“Since you first started liking them.”
Suguru hesitates to answer, “Too long.”
“Exactly!” Gojo exclaims, shaking the pillow in his hands for dramatic effect. “Maybe…”
Suguru waits a moment to see if Gojo will finish his sentence, and when he doesn’t, Suguru sits up, quirking up his eyebrow at him as he asks slowly, as if attempting to subtly warn Gojo to pick his next words carefully: "Maybe what, Gojo?”
“Maybe it’s time to try and move on, Suguru…” He frowns and asks softly, “Are you just gonna torture yourself like this for the rest of your life?”
Suguru sighs and turns away from Gojo, a small frown on his face. He knows he’s right, but he’s scared in all honesty because, on the one hand, what if it works? What if he actually does move on? What if it was this easy to move on this whole time and he was just here torturing himself for nothing? And on the other hand, he doesn't want it to. He’s liked you for so long. You've taken up so much of his heart that, at this point, he thinks his heart is shaped like you, and it would feel wrong to not like you. He can't imagine himself not being completely and utterly devoted to you, and he doesn’t think he wants to.
“Suguru.” 
Suguru's brows knit together as he looks up at Gojo.
Gojo sighs. “Just try? One date. That’s all I’m asking.”
Suguru rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice behind it. “I don’t even know anybody, Gojo.”
He perks up at the absence of rejection and happily explains, “Don’t worry bout that; leave it all up to me!" He emphasizes the word 'me' by pointing toward himself.
“Ok, well, that makes me even more inclined to say no.”
"Suguru, pleaseee,” Gojo begs. “Just one date!! That’s all I’m asking! You’re my friend, Suguru, and I know I don’t act like it, but I really do hate seeing you like this.”
Suguru crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow at him in suspicion, wondering, “Why are you being nice?”
“Because, contrary to popular belief, I do in fact care about my friends.”
Suguru breathes out heavily at his response, letting a brief silence wash over them.
“So..." Gojo pries. 
“Fine.”
“Yay!-“
Suguru instantly cuts him off, one finger raised, as he emphasizes sharply, “But just one date, Gojo.“
“Good enough for me!” he says, nodding quickly. “This will be the best date of your life, and you’ll realize you don’t even like Y/N all that much!”
Suguru feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him from that statement but quickly plays it off with a scoff, “Yeah, or it’s the worst date of my life, and I realize just how much more I like Y/N.”
“Ok, well,“ Gojo frowns and scratches his head awkwardly, “Can we at least try to be optimistic?”
“Fine.”
☆☆☆☆
Shoko’s sitting on her bed with her textbook in her lap when you enter your dorm, kicking your shoes off haphazardly across the room and slamming the door shut.
“You good?”
You groan in response as you sluggishly make your way toward her, pushing the book off her lap and instead replacing it with your head.
She looks down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I was reading that, you know.”
You groan again, but this time it comes out louder and more gutteral.
“Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you gonna just lay here in my lap groaning?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
You pout, looking up at her. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“Where should I start?”
“Shoko,” you whine.
She bites back a smile as she asks, “Why would you think something's wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter. “I mean, I go on so many dates, right?”
Shoko nods and hums something in acknowledgment.
“But they all never end up working out! Like none of them!” You exclaim, throwing your hands out in front of you, barely missing Shoko, who jerks her head to the side just in time. “They always all say the same thing.”
She pushes your hands back down so that she can return to her original position and asks, “Which is?”
You let your hands fall onto your chest as you turned your head to the side to avoid her gaze, mumbling, “That I mention Suguru a lot.”
You don’t even have to look back up at her to know she’s raising her eyebrows at you in question.
“Well, do you?”
Your gaze snaps back up at her as you exclaim, “Yeah, but!” You pause. “He's my… He's my best friend, so obviously I'd mention him a lot!”
The word best friend feels heavy and foreign in your mouth, like it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’ve never had to put a label on you and Suguru, not until the dates at least, but even then, you and Suguru were just... simply that. You were just you and Suguru.
“Really feeling the love here.”
“Shokoooooo.”
She rolls her eyes. “You were just on a date, right?”
You nod. 
“And so what happened?”
“Nothing! I was bored; I'm always bored on these dates.”
"Okay, hypothetically,” she says, “What would you have rather been doing?”
“Hanging out with Suguru! I always tell myself that I'm literally gonna stop canceling on him for dates because I always end up regretting it.”
“Right, right,” she says, nodding. “Y/N, have you ever considered that maybe you like Geto?”
You roll your eyes. “Of course I like Suguru, idiot. Did you not just hear me call him my-“
She cuts you off: “Your best friend. Yeah, whatever; that's not what I mean. I mean, like. romantically.”
“Huh?” Shoko’s words take a minute to fully register in your brain, but once they do, your jaw drops. “Huh?! Pft, no, of course not, that is... That is a… That is a silly thought.”
She stares down at you blankly, knowing the way you just stumbled over your whole sentence reveals your lack of conviction in your own words. "Right… Well, if you’re gonna be an idiot in denial, can you do that in your own bed? I need to study.”
You roll your eyes as you sit up. “Is studying all you do?”
She shrugs, and now that her lap is free from you, she places her textbook back into her lap. “Is obsessing over Geto all you do?”
“I don't like you.”
“You love me. Now leave me alone.”
You begrudgingly hop off her bed and into your own, making it a point to sigh dramatically the whole time. Once you're in your own bed, your phone goes off, and upon seeing who the message is from, you bite back a smile.
Shoko looks up from her textbook at the noise. “Oh? That your man?”
“Shut your mouth.”
She simply laughs under her breath before returning to her studies, and you happily return your attention back to your phone. 
Suguru<3: hey
Y/N: hey!
Suguru<3: oh I didn't expect you to reply so quick lol. I thought u were on a date?
Y/N: was :/ that shit suckedddddd it was so boring Suguru pls I would've much rather hung out with you
Suguru<3: well I mean u could've
Y/N: I KNOWWWW ugh next time remind me to never cancel on you for a lame date again k?
Suguru<3: yeah I will… so I'm taking it you won't be seeing them again?
Y/N: definitely not... I do wanna see u again tho!!
Suguru<3: you'll see me in class y/n
Y/N: yeah but that's so far awayyyyy
Suguru<3: yk if u wanna hangout rn u can just say so 
Y/N: do u wanna hang out?
Suguru<3: he can't he's busy -gojo 
Y/N: gojo when I get my hands on u. 
Suguru<3: :p -gojo
You groan dramatically and throw your phone somewhere onto your bed as you shove your face into your pillow, mumbling, “I'm going to sleep.”
“Eager to see your man tomorrow?”
“Die.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Gojo and Suguru are walking to class when Gojo starts humming obnoxiously, like he’s thinking about something and wants someone to notice, so he doesn’t stop until Suguru sighs.
“Can you shut up?”
Gojo frowns and feigns hurt. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’m thinking about?”
“Fine, what are you thinking about, Gojo?”
Gojo slightly leans in toward Suguru as he coos, “Thinking about who I’m gonna set you up with, obviously!”
"Oh, right about that...”
“Nuh uh, you can't back out!”
“But I think they might feel the same?” Suguru says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Gojo’s head whips toward Suguru in shock. “Wait huh?” 
“Before you stole my phone yesterday—which I’m still mad about, by the way—they said they would’ve rather hung out with me than go on the date,” he says, pulling out his phone to show Gojo the texts.
Gojo doesn’t say anything, and the lack of anything coming out of his mouth worries Suguru, who’s now scanning Gojo’s face for a trace of anything to tell him what the other is thinking and gets it when Gojo finally cracks a frown.
“What? Why do you look like that?” Suguru asks, and he hates how it comes out more panicked than he intended, his own voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.
“I don't wanna say anything that would get your hopes up,” Gojo says, his gaze now fixed on his steps. “And besides, maybe this date could still be good.”
“You’re not gonna let me get out of this, are you?”
“Of course not!” he says, his regular pep back in his step. “So does tomorrow work for you?”
“Yeah, whatever, Gojo, you’d make me go regardless, I don’t know why you ask.”
“Lol, true anyway." Gojo’s steps come to a halt. "Here’s my class; see you later!”
Suguru waves him off: "Yeah, whatever, oh, and Gojo?”
“Hm?”
“At least set me up with someone good," he says, an ever-so-slight smile on his face.
“Of course! Leave it all up to me, bestie!”
Suguru nods and continues on toward his own class, only then does he huff, “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
☆☆☆☆
You sat in your seat, your cheek leaning in your palm, sighing every so often from boredom but quickly perking up when you notice a familiar face walk through the door.
“Suguru!” 
“Y/N!”
Your gaze is glued to him as you watch him take his seat beside you; only once he’s fully situated do you speak up again: “I was wondering if you were skipping or something.”
Suguru tilts his head at you in confusion, asking, “Why?”
“Because you took so long.”
He tries to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks. “Did you miss me that much?”
“Shut up. What were you doing anyway?”
Suguru rolls his eyes. “Gojo made me walk him to class.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, your voice unamused as you speak, “Lame excuse, I walk with Shoko to her class every day and I still get here before you.”
“Yeah, that’s cause it’s Shoko?”
“True, I’ll excuse it for today if...”
“If?” He narrows his eyes at you, urging you to continue your sentence.
“If we hang out tomorrow?”
“Can we hang out today?” He looks away as he says, “I’m kinda busy tomorrow....”
“Aw man,” you say, frowning, “You’re never busy.”
“I know, sorry, it’s just—" He halts before mumbling out the rest of his sentence—“something Gojo’s making me do.”
Suguru finally returns his gaze to you when he hears you huff.
“He’s taking you from me too often; I'll have to intervene sooner or later if he keeps this up.”
He stifles a laugh. “Can you not today?”
“Nope, I've gotta work on a project for one of my classes,” you say with a disappointed sigh.
“Okay, well, how about Wednesday, then?”
“I can fit you into my schedule, I suppose.”
“Oh shut up; don’t act like you weren’t the one asking me to hang out last night.”
“I was a different person then,” you deadpan.
Suguru rolls his eyes but can’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Yeah, ok.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Come the next afternoon, Suguru finds himself staring into a mirror at his outfit with a small scowl on his face.
“I look stupid.”
“You always look stupid,” Gojo remarks, patting Suguru on the back.
Suguru ignores him and rolls his eyes, his voice small as he borderline pleads, “Do I really have to go?”
“Yes! It’s too late to back out now when your date is in like twenty minutes, so really you should get going by now,” he says while attempting to push Suguru out the door.
Suguru doesn’t budge. “I don't even know this person, Gojo.”
“That’s what dates are for!”
Suguru looks over his shoulder at Gojo, who’s still trying to push him out the door. “You know this isn’t gonna work, right?”
Gojo rolls his eyes and huffs, “Well, not with that attitude.”
“Gojo.”
“Suguru, you said you’d try! so go! try!”
Suguru sighs and reluctantly gives in… again. “I hate you.”
Gojo waves him off, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you can hate me after your date.”
Suguru doesn’t reply and instead opts to flip him off as he walks out the door.
☆☆☆☆
Suguru sits at a secluded booth in a dimly lit restaurant, lost in thought rather than listening to whatever the person sitting across from him is saying. He knows he should be paying attention; he knows he’s being rude, but god is he bored out of his fucking mind, and to say he’s hating every second of this is an understatement. He’d much rather be hanging out with you right now, regretting turning you down for this because just being here makes a part of him feel like he’s betraying you, and the thought has him anxiously wiping his sweaty palms against his pants. He’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you. Suguru was naive to believe he could delude himself into thinking that there was any possibility in any way that he’d move on, let alone with someone Gojo picked.
“Suguru?”
He quickly looks up at the person in front of him. “Yeah?”
They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No, sorry—I guess I was just, uh, lost in thought.”
"Oh, it’s fine,” they say, confusingly normal about the whole situation. “I was just, um, talking about your friend Gojo, actually.”
He blinks. “Why?”
“I was actually hoping you'd help me get with him?”
“You do realize you're on a date with me, right?”
“Please.” They roll their eyes. “Don't act like you wanna be here any more than I do right now.”
“How did-“
“It's written all over your face, you know? They must be really special.” They tease with a sweet smile, “I almost feel like I should be jealous.”
Suguru swallows harshly, suddenly feeling way more exposed than he would ever want to, especially on a ‘date’. “Sorry…”
They shrug. “Don't be; honestly, I just said yes to this to get some pointers on Gojo, so I don't think I'm any better than you right now.”
Suguru nods, his mind reeling. He’s not actually sure what’s going on or how he got here in the first place. How could his date be so okay with the fact that he’s here thinking about someone else? Oh, right, because so are they, but it’s still not clicking in his brain.
“You can leave if you want.”
He narrows his eyes at them skeptically. “Huh?”
“To go hang out with the one you actually like.”
Suguru shakes his head. There’s somehow too much happening right now for him to comprehend. “Again, what?”
They roll their eyes playfully, an amused smile on their face, as they lean over the table and whisper, “Suguru, I'm giving you an out.”
He blinks, and suddenly everything clicks, and he doesn’t understand why he’s still here when they just told him they could go to you. He stands up abruptly and says, “Right, I'm...“
“Don't say you're sorry; make it up to me by going to them, yeah?”
“I really appreciate that. Uhm, text me and I'll give you pointers on Gojo?”
They laugh and nod. “Yeah. Now, shoo, go to the one you actually want to be with.”
Suguru turns his head toward the exit of the restaurant, ready to leave, but pauses and ends up turning back to his ‘date’, a small smile on his face. “Thank you.”
“Mhm! Also, I want to meet them sometime, k? We’re friends now, sorry!”
“Yeah… Yeah, you can. Someday? Maybe…”
They tilt their head at him, unamused despite the smile on their face. “Bye Suguru.”
He returns the smile and waves before heading off to find you.
☆☆☆☆
You found yourself under a tree somewhere on campus, attempting—and failing—to entertain yourself since Suguru was busy and couldn't hang out, and you didn't even dare try to go to Shoko for entertainment, knowing her face is probably stuffed into her textbook and she would berate you for interrupting her, or if she did agree, she would spend the whole time with her whole face screaming how she would much rather be studying, even when her studying proves to be just for fun because she cheats on her exams anyway, but you digress. Lost in thought, you don't notice how someone’s approached you until their shadow falls over you.
“You dead?”
You look up and are pleasantly surprised to see Suguru. “Hey! I thought you were busy?”
Suguru shrugs. “Left early.”
“What’d you go do anyway?”
“A date.”
The minute the words leave Suguru’s mouth, you can feel your stomach churn in a horrible way. like you’re on a rollercoaster, but it's not fun; you want to get off, and you want to get off now, like this is final destination and you’re about to fall to your doom. Or more so, this makes you realize you've already fallen to your doom; you've already fallen in love with Suguru, and it took Shoko saying something and him going on a date for it to really sink in like it hadn't been there all along. Your jaw clenches, and you're quiet—terrifyingly quiet—and it makes Suguru regret saying anything; he doesn’t even know why he did... Okay, no, he knows. He knows he was acting petty and wanted to rub it in your face like you rub your dates in his, even if not purposeful, and besides, you two are friends, and friends are honest with each other. But maybe he shouldn’t have been, and it's excrutiatingly obvious he shouldn't have been when you suddenly stand up and avoid his gaze.
“Y/N?”
You kick at the dirt under your shoes and mumble, “I should, um, Shoko actually just texted me.”
“Y/N, can you look at me, please?” Suguru sounds desperate.
You look up at him and smile, but with the way your eyes are glazed over, it’s like you’re not even there. “Yeah?” 
“I thought we could hang out now?” 
“Yeah, but—ugh—Shoko really needs my help, you know?”
“Are we still on for tomorrow at least?”
“I hope your date was good, Suguru.”
“Y/N-“
“If I keep her waiting any longer, she’ll be really mad. I’m gonna go.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Suguru wishes he could say he’s surprised when you don’t show up to class the next day, but he’s not. Not at all. Especially from the way you ran off yesterday to how you’re still not answering any of his texts or calls, it was a telltale sign that Suguru would not be seeing you today. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. Of course not. So halfway through class, he left—not like he was paying attention anyway—and made his way to your dorm. Though he hesitates to knock once he’s actually there, he doesn’t even know why you’re ignoring him in the first place, and honestly? He’s scared to find out.
You’ve never acted like this with him before; you’ve always been an open book, always the first to speak up if something he did upset you, so he doesn’t understand why you’ve suddenly done a complete 180. He takes a deep breath before knocking. He came all this way; he isn’t going to just leave without figuring out what's wrong—or at least he’s going to try to figure out what's wrong.
No answer.
He knocks again.
No answer.
Suguru groans as he goes to knock one more time, but before he can, the door is swung open, and he’s met with a disheveled-looking Shoko.
“What?”
“Shoko, hi—“ Suguru gives her a quick once-over. "Sorry, were you asleep?”
She crosses her arms and blows a tuft of hair out of her face. “I was, and I'd like to go back to sleep, so-“
“Right, sorry, uh, is Y/N here?”
“No,” she replies quickly, far too quickly that Suguru doesn't believe her and instead tries to look into the room to find you. Shoko immediately picks up on this and shifts her body to cover any gaps he could look through. “They aren’t here, sorry.”
“Shoko,” he monotones.
She chews the inside of her lip and looks away, and Suguru can tell she's dying to say something, but she ultimately decides against it and shakes her head, looking back up at him.
“They’re not here, sorry.”
Suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It's fine, sorry for waking you.”
“It's fine… Take care of yourself, Geto.”
“Yeah. You too.”
Shoko quickly shuts the door, and instead of climbing back into bed, she grabs her pillow and makes her way toward your bed, only to end up hitting you with it repeatedly. You pull your covers over your head in a futile attempt to protect yourself.
“Shoko, stop!”
“You stop.” She punctuates every word with a hit of her pillow.
“You’re the one hitting me!”
Shoko hits you one last time. “I mean, stop ignoring him, idiot.”
You peek your head out from under the covers, a frown on your face.
“Don't look at me like that; you’re acting childish, and you know that.”
“I can’t look at him.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Shoko, I'm serious!” You speak adamantly, sitting up. “I mean, I realize I like him the exact moment he tells me he went on a date?”
“Who’s fault is that?”
“Shoko, I-I can't.”
“Whatever, sulk all you want; don't talk to him about it; I don't care; just scoot over.”
Your face twists in confusion. “What?”
“I'm tired,” she says blankly, now climbing into your bed.
You listen and scoot over, though it's more like she pushes you over. “You know you have your own bed, right?”
She yawns: “Too far away.”
You look down at her, and she's somehow already fast asleep. You roll your eyes and lay back down, looking up at the ceiling with your mind racing, and suddenly your phone vibrates. You know who it is; he’s the only one who texts you, but that doesn’t stop you from checking anyway.
Suguru<3: hey. 
Suguru<3: did I do something?
Suguru<3: I don't understand.
Suguru<3: you weren't in class so I tried going to ur dorm. shoko said you weren't there but I don't really believe her.
Suguru<3: can you just talk to me please?
Suguru<3: I miss you.
Suguru<3: guess this means we aren’t hanging out today huh?
Suguru<3: text me soon please.
☆☆☆☆
Thursday 
Suguru<3: no class again?
Suguru<3: look I get it
Suguru<3: okay maybe I don't.
Suguru<3: I don't know what I did wrong but if you don't wanna talk that's fine
Suguru<3: can you just let me know you’re okay?
Suguru<3: fuck I don't even care if you have shoko tell me you’re okay or if you tell gojo I just
Suguru<3: I just need to know you’re okay y/n. 
Suguru<3: how long are you gonna avoid me?
Suguru<3: or avoid class?
Suguru<3: I miss you.
“Can you answer your fucking phone,” Shoko snaps.
You glare at her and instead shut your phone off completely. “There. Happy?”
"No, not at all; I won't be happy till you stop sulking.”
You smile at her condescendingly. "You are so lovely; did you know that?”
She sighs deeply. “Y/N, you’re ignoring Geto because he went on one date.”
“I'm ignoring him because I'm in love with him.”
She narrows her eyes at you. “And he's supposed to know that how? I'm a hundred percent sure the poor boy has no clue what he did.”
“Shoko, you don't get it! You've never been in love,” you sneer.
“I don't need to be in love to know you're acting stupid.” She shakes her head. “You know what? Ignore him all you want; that's your problem, but you need to go to class; don't throw away your college degree for him.”
You sigh, finally agreeing with her on at least one thing. “Yeah... Yeah, I know I'll go tomorrow.”
She nods happily. “Good. Now can I get back to studying?”
“I'm not the one who made you stop, you took that upon yourself.”
“Watch yourself; I'll walk my ass straight to Geto's dorm and tell him for you.”
“…Sorry”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
You get to class the next day extremely early and take a seat in the far back, away from everyone else, hoping Suguru would somehow not see you, or maybe more like in hopes you wouldn’t see him. It doesn't work. The minute he walks in, his eyes are drawn to yours like there was an invisible string there tying him directly to you, and your stomach twists as you see him approach you. As he’s approaching you, he sees your face, and he sees how you look like you're five seconds away from vomiting up everything you’ve ever eaten since you were born, so he stops in his tracks. Besides, a confrontation in the middle of class wouldn't be a good idea either way, so he’ll just catch you after class.
That somehow proves to be much harder than it should have been because once class ends and he turns around to catch you before you leave, you're already gone. He blinks incredulously at your empty seat for a moment before snapping out of it and running out into the halls, trying to find you among the crowd of people, which is easy for him considering you're the only thing that exists to Suguru right now and pretty much always, but even despite that, he can't find you. He stands in the hall, watching people pass him by as he does nothing, and the only thing he can hear is his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the rain that suddenly started sometime during all of this.
He finally snaps out of it once more and realizes that since it randomly started raining, there's a chance that you're somewhere waiting the rain out, unless you are so dead set on avoiding him that you don't care in the first place and walk back to your dorm in the rain anyway... Suguru hopes he's right as he starts walking toward the exit, and exhales heavily in relief when he sees you out on the porch and slowly creeps up behind you.
“Did you know it was gonna rain?”
You flinch at the sound of his voice. “No.”
Suguru’s heart feels like it's about to burst right out of his chest, and he feels like it's been way too long since he's heard your voice. “I think Gojo is gonna bring me an umbrella; do you wanna wait with me?”
“No.”
“No?”
You shake your head and start walking out into the rain, but you don't get far when Suguru reaches out and grabs your wrist.
“Wait!”
You look back at him, your jaw clenched tight. “Let go of me, Suguru.”
“You’ll get sick.”
You yank your wrist out of his grasp. “I don't care; I want to go back to my dorm.”
For a few moments, Suguru feels stuck in place as he watches you begin to walk away, yet everything in his being is screaming at him to go after you, to not let you go. He doesn’t even realize he was holding his breath this whole time until he gasps for air, and at the same time, his body finally decides to align with his mind, and he runs after you. You can hear his foot steps pattering against puddles, which only makes you speed up your walking.
Suguru notices this, and although he's still chasing after you, he decides to call out a pained, “Why are you ignoring me?”
You almost don't even hear him over how loud the rain has grown.
Almost.
“I'm not ignoring you, Suguru,” you say, stopping in your tracks with a deep sigh. He’ll catch you sooner or later, so maybe it's best to just get it over with.
Suguru doesn’t say anything until he's right behind you. You can hear just how clearly his voice trembles as he says, “Oh, so we’re lying now?”
“I'm no-“
“What the fuck happened? What are you doing?” and although he sounded exasperated only a second ago, when he speaks again, it's horrifyingly subdued: “This—this isn't us.”
You whip around to face him, a scowl on your face as you fume, “There is no us.”
Suguru’s face goes blank. No us? That's not right. That's all there is. There's only ever been an us because Suguru is not him without you. It's never just Suguru. It's you and Suguru; it's him and you; there's no him without you.
“What?”
“There is no us, Suguru; that's—“ you say, gesturing in little circles with your hands in front of you, trying to act out whatever word you're looking for. “That's the fucking problem.”
“I don't—“ His voice is breathy as he shakes his head in confusion. “What are you saying, Y/N?”
“You know what I'm saying.”
“No,” he says sternly, "No, I don't. I need to hear you say it.”
You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the rain falling against your face rather than the words coming out of your mouth: “I'm in love with you.”
The silence is suffocating, and you're violently aware of how you can feel Suguru’s eyes burning holes into you. You swallow harshly before peeking your eyes open, and he’s just standing there wide-eyed, his jaw slack.
“Suguru?”
“Why now?”
With his voice so small and brittle, you hardly even heard him.
“Huh?”
“Why now?” he repeats, this time louder, harsher.
“I don't—I don't understand?”
Suguru laughs in disbelief. He brings his hands up to cover his face, and he just laughs into them or cries; he's not even quite sure anymore. And after a few moments of this, he finally takes a deep breath, running one hand down his face as the other drops back to his side. “Do you know how long I’ve been in love with you, Y/N?”
“What?” You’re hopeful for a moment, but that all comes quickly crashing down, realization washing over you. “Wait, but you went on a date.”
“Y/N, it's been so long that Gojo got tired of me wallowing in my own self-pity every time you went on a date.” He sighs and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “So he forced me to go on one too to try and help me move on.”
“Why didn't you wait for me?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Suguru doesn't know whether to nod or shake his head. “No, I know, but I don't understand.”
Your face scrunches up in disdain, silently reading—what's there to not understand? “Why didn't you wait for me to fall in love with you?”
“Y/N, do you even hear what you're saying right now?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear what I'm saying? All I've ever fucking done was wait for you, and I go on one date that I left early for you, and now I'm the bad guy?”
Your heart sinks like a bag of rocks into a deep body of water. “No wait, Suguru, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”
Suguru looks down, avoiding your stare, carefully tapping a puddle with the tip of his shoe as he mumbles, “Yeah.”
“Do-“ you stop yourself and swallow harshly before continuing, “Are you still in love with me?”
He stays silent, and embarrassment floods your bones. How could he still love you? You, who's been subconsciously dangling a treat in front of him like some kind of animal just to coax him into doing what you want, into staying with you, following you around, just because you were too out of touch to realize you even liked him in the first place. Of course, he wouldn't still love you.
“Of course I am. Don't be silly,” he reluctantly admits.
Relief washes over you, and the breath you take feels like the first one you've taken since Tuesday, when he told you about his date in the first place. “So... now what?”
The same relief does not wash over Suguru; in fact, he's feeling anything but relief. Too many things to name, to pin point; it's just all too much. This is just too much. “I need space; I can't—" he shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can't do this right now.”
“What?”
“I just. I can't. I'm sorry.”
Your voice cracks, “But-“
“I just need to think about this,” he says, waving his hands around in small circles, referencing the two of you.
“Oh.” You take a step back and nod. “Okay. I'll go then... I love you, Suguru.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, I love you too.”
Suguru watches you walk away, and he can't tell his tears apart from the rain; can’t tell if his heart is stopping or if it's racing; can't tell if he's breathing or suffocating; he can't tell anything. His surroundings are drowning out and blurring into vague shapes and figures around him, and Suguru is sure he could just drop dead right then and there.
“Jeez, I didn't take that long that you had to walk out in the rain, dramatic much?”
Suguru, in all honesty, didn’t hear a word that was just said; the only thing that caught his attention was the lack of rain hitting him. He looks up to find an umbrella there instead of the dark cloudy sky that resembled his insides a little too much, then looks to his side to find Gojo there, and he wants to wipe the stupid grin off his face. If he can't be happy, why should Gojo? His head drops in defeat at his own thoughts. God, he’s acting shitty.
“Sorry.”
Gojo looks at him curiously. “You good?”
“No. No, I'm not good.”
"Hey dude, what's wrong?”
Suguru lets out a harsh laugh, and with no rain hitting him anymore, he knows for sure the thing dripping down his face is tears. “I fucked up.“
Gojo scans Suguru’s face frantically, looking for something—anything—that will tell him what's wrong with his best friend.
“Suguru, you have to be a little more specific than that.”
“Y/N loves me back.”
Gojo goes wide-eyed, and he gives a confused smile because how could this warrant his friend’s reaction? “What dude, that's gr-“
Suguru quickly cuts him off: "Great, I know, but I told them to give me space, Gojo.”
Frankly, Gojo isn't even worried anymore; he’s just in complete disbelief, shouting, “What? Why the hell would you do that?! Are you stupid?”
“Maybe!” he shouts back, trembling. “I don't know! They just— They went on about how I should've waited for them, and I was mad because that's all I've ever fucking done. I don't know; I wasn't thinking straight, and I fucked up, and they left. I made them leave. I asked for space when I hated all the space we've had from each other this whole week, and I asked for more?” He repeatedly hits his forehead with his palm, muttering, “I'm an idiot, fuck.“
“Suguru.”
“What?”
Gojo tilts his head at him. “Why are you still here?”
The question stills his movements, his hand falling back to his side, and he stares at Gojo in pure confusion. “What?”
“You obviously know that space isn't what you want, and you just said it in the heat of the moment, so why are you still here?”
Suguru is silent.
“Why aren't you running after them? They want you, dude! And you want them too!”
Suguru thinks if it weren’t for Gojo constantly moving, he'd think time had completely stopped in time with his realization on how he’s a complete moron.
“Suguru.”
Suguru sighs. “I hate when you're right; you know that?”
Gojo perks up knowing that he got through to Suguru; he coos sing-song, “If that were true, you'd hate me all the time.”
Suguru nods, “I do.”
“Oh, shut up." Gojo extends the handle of his umbrella toward Suguru. “Do you want my umbrella?”
“No, it’s fine; I’m already wet,” Suguru says, looking down at his soaked clothes as he wipes any remaining tears away. “What’s a little bit more water?”
“Good luck, Suguru.”
“Thanks Gojo.”
☆☆☆☆
You walk into your dorm slowly, in a daze-like state. Honestly, you don't even remember walking here; you just remember your fight? confession? argument? — your something with Suguru, and then there's a lapse in your memory, and now you're here.
“Y/N, dude, you're getting water everywhere.“
You sniffle and look down at the puddle that's forming underneath you. “Sorry.”
Shoko tentatively stands up from her bed and cranes her neck down to try and look at your face. “Y/N? Are you okay?”
You look up at her with a wobbly smile. “I confessed.”
She looks at you blankly, unsure if she should say something or if you are.
“He asked for space.”
“He likes you, and he asked for space?”
“I didn't tell you that—“
“It's obvious; keep up,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, so he asked for space?”
You nod blankly. “Uh huh.”
“Why?”
You rub your eyes in hopes that not looking at Shoko will make the embarrassment lessen. “I said some things in the heat of the moment, and... and yeah.”
It doesn’t.
She’s strangely unfazed; in fact, if anything, she’s partially annoyed. “Ok, and you’re just going to listen to him?”
“What else am I supposed to do, Shoko?” you ask incredulously, glaring at her with your hands back at your sides.
“Fight for him? He likes you back, and if you said something in the heat of the moment, odds are that him asking for space was also just in the heat of the moment.”
“You weren't there, Shoko. You didn't see how he was looking at me—at how he said it.”
“Y/N,” she says disappointedly, eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge. “He's literally been so upset at you ignoring him these past few days; do you really think he meant it when he asked for space? Even more space?”
You blink at her, your mind gone blank.
“Look, maybe he did, yeah? But maybe he didn't, and you won't know unless you go fight for him.”
“I don't know Shoko,” you mumble skeptically.
She rolls her eyes as she rebuts, "At the very least, you can apologize for what you said.”
“I already did.”
“Again, this time now that your head is… somewhat clearer... Are you really just gonna let him get away like this?”
“…no,” you answer weakly, which isn’t good enough for you or Shoko, who’s looking at you with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “No,” you say again, this time with true conviction behind your words—word. “I don't want to let him get away like this. I don't want it to end like this.”
She gestures toward the door with a small, proud smile on her face. “Then go.”
You look back at the door before looking back at her and nodding. “Thank you, Shoko.”
“Uh huh,” she says, starting to walk back toward her bed, “and when you come back, you better not make another puddle.”
“No promises.”
☆☆☆☆
In an attempt to save whatever dignity you have left, you decide not to run down the halls like a shitty rom-com cliché; instead, you speed walk. Which, in hindsight, is probably even more embarrassing than just full-sending it by running, but you digress. You barely get halfway down the hall when you see Suguru. Both of you make eye contact at the same time, yet neither of you stop making your way toward each other, but you both slow down, carefully walking toward each other like two predators about to attack.
“You're leaving puddles in the hall,” you say quietly now that the two of you have come to a halt right in front of each other.
Suguru nods and looks you up and down. “So are you.”
You both stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. Allowing your presence to speak for itself, but it's awkward—too awkward—and it feels like your knees are gonna give out on you if you stare at him any longer in silence.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for you." He shakes his head, ignoring his own answer, like his very words aren't the most important thing to you right now. He came for you. “What are you doing here? I thought you would’ve been in your dorm by now.“
“I was—“ your voice grows quiet, “But I was coming for you too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for, Suguru. I shouldn’t have said what I said; that was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want space,” he blurts out, hardly acknowledging your apology, which he didn't need in the first place. What he needs is you, and it will always be you.
“You don’t?”
“God no,” he says vehemently. “Space is the last thing I want. I don’t want space from you. I feel like there’s something missing when I’m away from you. How could I ever want space, Y/N?” His voice cracks a little at the end, and it has your heart racing. “I was just mad, and I shouldn’t have said that.”
You have all of these feelings inside you, and you’ve cried enough today to last the rest of your life, so instead you find yourself laughing, and Suguru looks slightly mortified.
“Why are you laughing?”
You laugh some more before trying to catch your breath, and you take a step forward closer toward him as you speak through deep breaths, “I’m just so fucking relieved. I-fuck-I love you, Suguru.”
Suguru closes the space between you two, pulling you into his embrace, and you tuck your face into his shoulder, his cold, damp clothes doing wonders to soothe your now-burning cheeks.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
“I think we look stupid standing here soaking wet and hugging...”
“Wanna make ourselves look even stupider by standing here soaking wet and kissing?”
You pull away ever so slightly just to look at him, and he’s staring at you with a smirk, and the longer he waits, the more furious the blush on his cheeks gets, and you can't help but stall your answer even more just for that reason.
“…matter of fact, yes, I do.”
Suguru grins widely but wastes no time connecting your lips together. The kiss is better than you could have ever imagined; it's gentle yet passionate all at once, and it's sloppy because neither of you can fully stop smiling long enough to keep the kisses consistent. And It's everything. He's everything, and you're mad that it even took you this long to realize that in the first place, but at least you don't have to worry about that anymore. Now you just have to worry about the fact that you two will probably end up getting sick from your wet clothes, but that's a problem for after you two stop kissing—if you two ever stop kissing.
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the-moon-files · 2 months
Note
Aaaaa yay, you updated for Linked Universe again! 🙏 And right when the hyperfixation was coming back for me, too 👀 
I was looking over your posts for LU, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to share some of my own random thoughts with you! I hope that’s okay 👉👈
After I read your “Humans aren't just round-eared Hylians?” post I have had,, many thoughts 👀 One random difference between humans and Hylians I thought about was the possibilities of varying strength,,, You briefly mentioned how Hylians seemed lighter than they seemed to Guide!Reader, and let me tell you, it was such a small detail, but I was transFIXED. I have this image of humans/Guide!Reader just being naturally stronger than the average Hylians - and it made me think of scenarios of the Reader just effortlessly hauling around two Links on their shoulders like sacks of potatoes- And them also picking up things that are supposed to be really heavy with ease! Like, Four would make a longsword, and Reader picks it up out of curiosity, expecting it to be really heavy, but it’s actually not that bad?? (Four in the background: 🧍)
If the Reader is already pretty strong (and maybe even has a profession in fighting, like a boxer or something,, [I might be projecting slightly—]), then ooo 👀 I can see there being this one time where a bunch of monsters ambush the Chain, and as everyone is fighting with the Reader giving them advice and whatnot, a Lizalfos managed to slip past everyone and sprint towards the Reader to attack them. The others are panicking because they won’t be able to reach the monster in time, but just as the Lizalfos raised its sword, one single punch from the Reader sent it flying back into the fray, knocking it into a Moblin. Reader is just standing there with their fist still in the air like “👁️👄👁️ h u h … whY ARE YOU GUYS STARING, YOU’RE STILL FIGHTING—”
In your newest post about the Guide!Reader’s voice, you mentioned how some entities could hear them, and I don’t know if he would, but I think it’d be kinda funny if Ganon and all of his other reincarnations could hear the Reader talking to Link- I’m not sure if he remembers his past lives, but if he does and hears/recognises Reader’s voice, I love the image of him thinking “Oh god, THIS guy again??” Because Reader WILL clown on him-
Dehydrated Ganondorf: *insert evil monologue here*
Guide!Reader: Uh-huh, sure, bold words for someone whose skin looks like a prehistoric riverbed. :|
Sage: *w he eze*
As I was writing all this, I had to think to myself, “Huh,, Guide!Reader doesn’t die when they fall into lava, aren’t really affected by harsher temperatures and winds, and also can swim against strong currents. They’re environment-resistant basically. But there’s bound to be at least one weakness to it all, right?” I did come up with said weakness, and I think it’s kinda basic, BUT one idea I had was that because Guide!Reader is so resistant to the natural elements of Hyrule, they are conversely quite weak to unnatural causes in turn. If they get injured, say they get cut with a knife by a Bokoblin, then that wound would take much longer to heal than it should. Any injuries that the Reader sustains in Hyrule are harder to heal (which I feel like could make some interesting angst,, 👀); their injuries would take more magic to completely heal them, or have more healing potions to drink. I also thought of the Reader being very vulnerable to any sort of poison- Like, if they get a pinch or two (or three) of strong poison in their system, they get knocked out for like two days 💀 
So basically, Guide!Reader is very resistant to the environment, possibly quite strong, but does not have any good constitution,,
[On another note, maybe it’s just a me thing, but I personally love the thought of Wind looking up to the Reader as like a big brother figure,,]
And also!! Happy birthday!! 🥳🥳🎉 As a way of procrastination, I’ve been compiling memes with Guide!Reader and the Chain because the brain rot is hitting HARD,, I can share it with you in the future if you like! /gen /pos And sorry if this is such a long post dkjfgndf-
NOT SOMEONE BEING HAPPY I UPDATED UwU
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ur ideas, ur compliments, ur bday wishes, etc. hitting me like^^
Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him) this will be default unless ppl specify otherwise! , Guide!Reader, Boxer/Martial Artist!Reader
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: Most Links of the Chain mentioned + Sage (Totk Link)! No focus/centric Link
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
In reference to This Post! Wait, Humans Aren’t just Round-Eared Hylians??
YOUR BRAIN>>>????!!!
This was such a yummy treat tysm for this, sharing is caring 🫶
I absolutely think Humans could be 10x stronger than Hylians, I mean if we base everything abt their universe off of Link weighing ~8 apples lmao
that means swords, armor, broadswords/claymores, battle axes, huge shields, if those weigh abt like fake swords/wooden ones back on earth to us, then i cant even imagine what canons/horses/tree trunks/boulders weigh 💀
like props on a stage weight rather than the real thing lmao
No but how many Links can you fit in one carry??
ok u got a heavier Link on your back, like Time, Twi or Wars, then Four/Wind/Hyrule/Legend (yes he’s light/smaller side, tho he may deny) in ur arms like one Link per arm, maybe 3 Links if you can like wrap ur arms around them
so like 4 Links total? well, Wind or Four r so light/small one could possibly ride on ur shoulders, so 5 LMAO??? that's like half the Chain already AHALJFAfJLL-
on another note,
I LOVEEE ganon being able to hear Guide Reader bc spent too long around them, also i originally based that off of characters who’ve shown they're meta/highly magical kinda (esp the meta part where they may have directly addressed players/broke 4th wall)
No bc Ganon would just be SO fed up by like, Wild’s time, it would literally be EXACTLY like what u said I’d imagine:
(u just playing the game and not realizing until later they can hear you)
Ganon: “ugh that blonde twink again, god when will this plan actually work-?!”
You: “eyyy, Ganon! omg, why’s he?? Hot??? damn, botw best ganon version fr”
Ganon: “you know what maybe you should just kill me right now, hero Link.”
(the thought of Ganon never being able to escape ur voice whenever Link was near him bc u didnt have a body to fight/kill, and instead he just had to deal with ur comments is SENDING ME)
changing subjects again sorry
YES!! that's the weakness/drawback I was thinking abt for Humans in Hyrule, while yes their environment isn't that effective on us, (i like to use “inside a video game” as the reason bc i think its neat)
humans are notoriously fragile in our own world already - we get sick, we get acid-reflux/throw up from bad food/food poisoning, etc.
so it makes sense we’d be more sensitive to this new environment, but even if we got adjusted,
we’re more external-proof, not internal-proof
(u know that's another reason why it works for Hylians and not Humans, we aren’t automatically healed by food, but their world does, and even in botw/totk when u have “dubious” food, its never inedible, its just useless to eat, so technically Hylians can kind of eat most anything off of that logic, like there is no such thing as “bad food” for them)
and u could take this either way tbh,
like we’re either entirely resistant to magic/dont take to it well bc our world didnt have it so potions/fairies don't work and we have to heal naturally
or just yeah, its like ur in a new country tbh, new germs/nature/food/etc. and u def cant guarantee u wont get a little sick from that
this would definitely include genuine poison!
bro the amount of WORRY the Links would feel after realizing the human guide guy who’s physically here now can barely handle their food??
Wild’s making a thorough list of what foods work for you and what don't, like safe foods to go back on, including recipes,
the way Time/Wars would absolutely be willing to take little detours/stop by towns more to make sure you have the right food you can eat,
and even tho Wild’s cooking, Sage is constantly testing for poison, like the dish itself, the herbs/plants, every ingredient needs to be extra safe even by Hylian standards (like not eating adventurous stuff like pufferfish or smth that could possibly have poison if cooked wrong/not enough etc)
that is to say, even if Wild makes a new recipe/other meal, he always has a backup safe meal to give you instead on those nights, and just way too many in general (yes he knows it doesn't buff ur health but he cant help his Hylians instincts to stuff the hurt person’s face with food ok??)
Hyrule! Is!! Losing!!! It!!!!
he has all the healing magic in the world and the one man he wants to help the most, for keeping him from being lonely on his adventure/looking out for him/being on his side no matter what, now he finds out he can’t even help them??
mans would literally keep trying to heal u til he’s drained it all out to just try and get the wound to close, if u didnt stop him
U get injured for the first time, and while a bruise/cut taking weeks to heal (depending on how bad) is normal to you, Hyrule + lowkey everyone is Freaking Out
Wounds DO NOT take weeks to heal?? They take hours at most??? Dude, are you dying-
(Wind got elbowed for that one, purely bc he voiced Sky/Hyrule/Wild/Twi paranoia out loud lol)
that is going with the version ur mostly unaffected by magic, but u could also do the human thing where we get adjusted to things over time (at least more than nothing), including food/sickness
The way All the Links just surround you or outright don’t let you come into crowded parts of town so ur poor immune system wont make u sick again 😭
on the bright side they'd all get rlly good at preventative measures like this, and taking care of sick you lol
(yes, u bribed Wind to get little bro cuddles when ur sick, it wasn't hard, he sees u as the most genuine bigger bro probably bc ur likely hte most affectionate out of all the Links)
(should I get into cultural differences between humans/hylians like humans being more openly cuddly/affectionate? like how in humans are space orcs fandom they acknowledge its unusual for us to “packbond” so easily to so many different species? and how this could possibly apply to not only Hylians but any Friend-shaped creatures across the Hyrules?? ..nah. I’ll save that for another post)
AND YES!! feel free to shoot rambles/thoughts/not even requests my way! Id love to talk abt it or just post it for the world to marvel at too lol
ohh mY God;; YOU HAVE MEMES FOR THIS?? PLEASEEEE SHOW ME????
thank you for this, srsly /pos
Peace out,
🌙
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k8luvsu · 20 days
Text
“i’m insecure of my laugh”
ft. Tsukishima Kei
f!reader x Tsukishima Kei
angst to fluff
author’s note: thought of this during class, yay!! anyway, i hope u enjoy, stay safe, xoxo ‼️🫶
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It was another school day, just talking to your friends, when someone made you laugh— another classmate of yours scoffed and commented, “What kind of laugh is that?” , the others just laughed, telling the person to shut up and mind their own business, but you minded it. Your sound of laughter soon died down, now forced chuckles and smiles here and there. That really affected you, ruining your entire day, heck, maybe your entire week.
Days passed, you were nonchalant and dry. You still showed smiles but the laughs felt like a rare sound to hear now.
After classes, you went to one of the quiet parts of the school. You just needed.. time. Were they joking? Were they being serious? But in the end, it was stuck in your head the past few days, you were zoning out, just.. sitting there. Until you felt someone beside you, humming quietly. You slowly turned your head to see that it was none other but Tsukishima Kei.
“Jeez, Kei! At least say something when you’re here— wait, first of all, how did you know I was here?! Are you a stalker?!” You squealed in surprise, almost jumping from where you sat.
“One, I just had to grab the chance to spook you. Second, isn’t it obvious by now? You go here when you need to cool off or whatever. And lastly, no, can’t a guy know his girlfriend too well?..” He replied in a nonchalant way, but somehow there’s a hint of humor in there, like another one of your daily banters.
“Well… okay, yeah. Why are you here?” You frowned and glared at him, slightly chewing on your lip in nervousness.
“…To check on you…” He whispered quietly, “What?” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I came to check on you…” He mumbled, “What???”, you raised one of your eyebrows, “I came to check on you, dummy!” He finally said in a voice you can actually hear him.
“..O-oh. Oh.” You finally realized, you made a small smile, giggled a bit, almost laughed, but kept it in.
“Why?” He scoffed without looking at you, just looking in front of him to avoid eye contact, you replied, “Huh? What do you mean ‘Why?’, Kei?” You said in a confused tone.
“Why did you let that idiot’s words get to your head? About your laugh?” He grumbled. “Well.. I mean, it is weird, now that I realize, I don’t get why I laugh like—“ You explained before you get cut off by him, “Like an angel? Yeah, I don’t get it too, your laugh is so mesmerizing, it drives me insane.” He confessed with a blush, then you blushed as well. “P-Pardon? No, I think you misunderstood me—“, you quickly replied, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, your laugh’s like that. So what? It brightens up the whole room— brightens up my day. Everyone’s got a different laugh. Your laugh’s my favorite. My medicine.”
“I-I mean- well..” You look down, fiddling with your fingers as you bit and chew on your lower lip, “Look, I know I don’t say these a lot, but please, don’t let the words of pathetic people go to your head, they want to do nothing but make you insecure of yourself. Your laughs and smiles are so.. I don’t know, its like heavenly sounds ringing in my ears. You know? You’re divine. I love you.” He mumbles shyly, his cheeks heating up.
“Pfft-“ You giggle, stifling a laugh, then you laugh out loud, showing obvious comfort in his presence. “No way, did the Tsukishima Kei say that?!”, you laugh.
“There she is,”, he smiles, staring into your eyes as he basks in the divine beauty before his eyes.
the end </3!
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112 notes · View notes
yunjinkisses · 4 months
Text
popular / mean huh yunjin x f reader⭐️
what’s ahead : angst , drinking , fluff,hate sex,choking,hair pulling,g!p yunjin , degrading
notes (all of newjeans are your friends in this , and you are a transfer student) also long ass fanfic.
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my second week of school and i already want summer to be here
god i’m so tired of yunjins bitch ass being on my dick all the time
“hey guys”
i flashed everyone a quick smile as i sat down
“awh what’s wrong y/n you seem a bit down unnie”
“yeah what’s the matter y/n/n!”
“it’s just yunjin..she’s getting on my nerves”
everyone let out an “ohhh” before saying it made sense
“yeah that makes sense , i don’t know why yunjin picks on you specifically,i mean you’re really nice y/n/n”
“thanks dani unnie,i don’t know either it’s just so irritating , ands it’s genuinely getting on my last nerve”
“i’m sure things will turn around and everything will be fine”
“i hope so hanni..”
the bell rung as lunch ended and i said goodbyes and than bumped into someone as i was leaving
“ah shit- sorry-“
than i looked up to see yunjin and started sweating immediately
“can you watch where you’re going? bad enough i have to see you everyday let alone hear your annoying voice..”
“sorry.”
i said coldly
“you better be”
and as she walked away she bumped into my shoulder
she’s so pretty but so fucking annoying
time skip to the end of the day
as i got home i said hi to my parents and went to my room , images of yunjin and her voice flashed through my head
god why was i thinking of her
time skip to the next day again
as i sat in my seat i staring at the clock zoning out , i somehow ended up thinking about yunjin
mother fucker get out of my head
“isn’t that right y/l/n”
“hm? oh yeah yeah..”
“mhm.. as i was saying..”
and his voice than got lowered by my thoughts , my eyes than trailed over to yunjin staring off at her beautiful orange hair,her gorgeous face as she whispered to her friend chaewon , she glanced over at me , i quickly looked away , hyein quickly noticed me staring at yunjin and whispered to me
“psst why are you staring at yunjin?”
“oh u-uhm i-“
*rinnng*
saved by the bell
“looks like it’s time to go , have a good rest of your day guys”
the teacher spoke as we exited the classroom
danielle unnie came up to me and hyein along with haerin
“hey y/n-ah! soyeon unnie is hosting a party at her place , we should totally go!” and haerin nodded along with danielle unnie
“i don’t know dani-unnie , im not much of a-“
“pleaseee oh pretty pleaseee!! i promise they’ll be cute girls there!”
i blushed and looked away at her comment then sighed
“fine fine”
danielle unnie jumped up and down in excitement
“oh thank you!! i can’t wait to see you guys there!!”
at home
“hyein unnie what should i wear to the party? should i wear this?”
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“or what about this?”
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“hm i think the second one , not too dressy , not too formal , and it looks super cute on you unnie!”
i smiled at her comment
“thanks hyein-ah , now let’s go”
at the party
me hyein,danielle,and haerin all showed up together , hanni and minji were staying home together
soyeon opened up the door for us
“ahh you guys made it! i’m so happy you guys could come! and y/n unnie you look amazing! i didn’t think you would come! i know parties aren’t your thing”
i smiled and gave her a hug
“well you know , trying something different for a change !”
everyone entered , me and danielle agreed to go get something to drink
after a drink or two i spot a particular orange haired girl out of the corner of my eye
“jesus christ ..”
“what’s wron- oh god.”
me and dani both spoke out spotting yunjin talking to chaewon , she than looks at me as im drinking and gives me a nasty look
soyeon than gathers a few people ,including me,dani,haerin,yunjin,chaewon,and two others , to play 1 hour in heaven
“okay wait explain again why it’s an hour ?”
“so basically we thought it would be more fun if we you know changed the time , and if nothings happening in there we will obviously let whoever is in there out “
“i guess that makes sense..”
chaewon and soyeon were having a conversation while i was just taking sips of my 4th drink,i don’t get drunk easily thankfully
“okay first up is…”
soyeon pulled two names out of a bowl
“yunjin and..”
god no..
“y/n unnie!”
“what.”
me and yunjin both exclaimed at the exact same time
“hey i don’t think that’s a good idea, im not sure if y/n-ah is so comfortable with-“
haerin was soon interrupted by yunjin
“don’t be such a pussy , y/n can handle it “
i was just looking away not making eye contact with anyone , just drinking
“fine it’s whatever.”
me and yunjin both enter soyeons , excessively large closet , basically a guest room
insults were thrown at me for almost 10 minutes straight
“you gonna say something pussy?,or are you gonna drink your feelings away? hmmm??”
i put my drink down and sighed
tears started to form in my eyes
“i’m sick and tired of you yunjin,every since the first fucking day of school all you’ve done is pick on me , i’ve never done anything to you,all i did was compliment you,and be nice to you.cant you be nice back? do you have to be such a fucking asshole”
i started to cry harder as i curled up into a ball and turned away from yunjin embarrassed of myself
“y/n i-“
“don’t , i don’t wanna hear it.”
she than softly kissed my lips and put her hands around my neck , i widened my eyes but returned the kiss quickly,it was a nice soft slow kiss , she pulled away us both smiling
“yunjin..”
“shut up.”
she brought me to the bed and brought me in for another kiss,this one felt more heated , more passionate. i licked her lips asking to enter , she quickly obliged,our tongues explored eachothers mouths , once we pulled away there was a string of saliva connected between us ,and than i felt something beneath me
“excited aren’t we?”
“shut up”
she rolled her eyes pushing me down on the bed as we both took our clothes off , only to be left in our underwear, i could see yunjins hard member through her boxers , i would be lying if i said it didn’t turn me on..
she started to kiss down my body and suck on my breasts
“yunjin..fuck..”
“shut it , slut”
she than pushed my panties aside and inserted two fingers inside me
“yunjin..fuck!~”
“god your so tight for me,wonder how you’ll feel around my cock~”
her saying that just made me moan even louder
she started to thrust in and out of me as she kissed my neck , my hands wrapped around her neck
“y-yunjin..please..s-so c-close..”
she than pulled out but before i could speak she took her boxers off and inserted her 10 inch dick inside me , making me scream
“FUCK DADDY!”
“what did you just call me?”
“n-nothing i-“
“say it again or else i won’t fuck you.”
“daddy..”
“mhm..keep calling me that princess”
she thrusted in and out of me slowly
“god you’re so wet and tight , all for me baby?”
“m-mhm! all for you!”
“what a fucking slut”
she than put her hand around my throat and tightened her grip on my neck making me moan
“m-mphm! harder!”
“don’t fucking tell me what to do bitch.”
she went harder inside of me making me scream even more
she let go of my neck and pulled out of me , turned me onto my stomach,and inserted her dick into me again,and pulled my hair
“you like that? you like when daddy pulls your hair? fucking bitch.”
all i could do is moan
“god i hate you,i hate you and your stupid fucking face,your m-mmh!~ tight pussy”
she moaned in between sentences
“fuck i’m gonna cum soon,i’m gonna fill you up”
she pulled harder on my hair ,but turned me around so she could see my face
she started going at a faster pace , making us both moan
“g-gonna c-cum”
“m-me too,let daddy fill you up”
one final thrust and she kissed me as we both came , she came inside of me , filling me up
she pulled out and layed next to me holding me
“don’t fucking tell anyone about this,i still fucking hate you.”
i could feel her smile into my neck as she held me
“hate you too”
320 notes · View notes
blackhairedjjun · 16 days
Text
honesty - c.yj
pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, open ending, non-idol au, best friends to (potential?) lovers | word count: 818 | warnings: profanity, arguing, reader has a toxic ex, implied infidelity (from the ex not yj)
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part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)
prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon - "maybe with a bf2lovers au ?")
author's notes: hi anon! tbh it took me a while to write this since i already did the heat prompt with a different member and i didn't want it to be too similar lol. the ending is more maybe-lovers than outright lovers, but i hope you still like it! <3
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despite the calm of the river next to you and yeonjun, your circumstances are anything but. you tried to keep your voice low at first, but your emotions run so high that you’ve given up; you care little about the other people staring at you as they stroll past.
“for fuck’s sake, yeonjun!” you yell. “you’re my friend, not my dad!”
“and aren’t friends supposed to look out for each other?!” your best friend grips his hair in his hands as if to pull it out, then lets go. “i’m telling you to stop hoping for him to come back! he doesn’t fucking care!”
“shut up! you don’t know him like i do!”
“i know he broke your heart so bad that you locked yourself up for a week, and that’s enough!” yeonjun takes a few steps toward you, but you step back.
what was supposed to be a calm afternoon stroll with your best friend has now turned into an argument once you brought up the topic of dating your ex again. you open your mouth to speak, then press your lips together. a cool wind blows from behind you; in your silence you hear a young couple laughing by the riverside, and you envy them.
you know that yeonjun is right, but you refuse to give him the point.
“ he destroyed you, y/n. and now he’s pleading for you back when he’s been kissing others?! don’t you know any better than that?!”
“i do! so why don’t you trust me on this?! why don’t you believe me when i say he’s changed? you keep seeing him as the bad guy!”
“and why don’t you trust me?!” yeonjun’s own voice gets louder with each word, oblivious to the stares of others. “i’m not making it up when i say i’ve heard him flirting with girls, i’ve seen him make out with them at parties. i’m trying to protect you from more heartbreak!”
he sucks in a breath and his voice shifts from loud to trembling. again he steps towards you, but you don’t move away. you look down at your hands to avoid his gaze and find them shaking.
“he’ll break you all over again,” he says. “and i can’t let that happen to you again... i couldn’t stand it the first time.”
a voice in your head tells you that he’s not lying; your best friend has no reason to. you ignore it and root your feet to the ground. “and that’s none of your fucking business, yeonjun. just let me make this choice for myself! i don’t need you trying to tell me what to feel. why do you care so much, huh? why are you trying to control how i feel?!”
“because i一 y/n, you can’t be serious一”
“i am serious! why the hell do you care so much about this damn guy?!”
“because i’m in love with you!”
yeonjun’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said and he takes a few steps back. you’re frozen to your spot, but you no longer feel rooted. instead you feel brittle, as if a single touch could send you crumbling. every nerve in your body feels primed to fall apart.
“shit, i never should have said that. god, i am so sor一”
“yeonjun...”
his name is barely a whisper from your mouth. you swallow hard, unsure what to say. you can do nothing more but stare at your best friend: the one you’ve told everything to, the one you trusted more than anything else, the one who held you in his arms when you cried after your ex broke your heart. the realization that he’s loved you all this time starts to sink in.
there’s an ache in his eyes now, one so strong that you look away. you take a deep breath and hold yourself together long enough to collect your thoughts.
“i am so sorry, y/n.” his voice breaks and you know he’s on the verge of tears. “i shouldn’t have said一”
“no, jjun.” his nickname weighs down on your tongue. “i... i just...”
you can see yeonjun’s shadow growing closer to yours. with one hand he reaches out for yours, trembling still; with the other he gently lifts your chin up to look at him. his eyes shine with tears, but the ache in them has lessened a bit.
you step forward and he collapses into you. you catch him as he stumbles forward, your arms finding his waist and his head buried in your neck. you hold him gently as you can, as if carrying a fragile treasure; his body shakes ever so slightly as he starts to cry and his tears wet your skin.
when you speak, your words are quiet and carefully chosen.
“i ran away from you, jjun. that’s why i tried to date him again... because i thought you’d never love me back.”
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dollfaceksj · 8 months
Note
GIRL THE WAY ID BE THROWING UP IF I GOT THAT MESSAGE 😭😭 LIKE WDYM "COME OUT"?? no hello how are you jus straight to the point
well let’s see what tae has to say!
i’ve been brainstorming this lore since like the 2nd or 3rd drabble. it’s rlly sad guys. i just love angst too much. you have been WARNED. i took out some of it bc to me it was a little too much lmao. a little too dark. the too dark stuff might come back later. its just details. so yeah. i took out a bit of the sadness but its still sad. uve been warned.
going to sleep right after this so scream at me all u want. 😘
taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #18
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masterlist
<- previous ; next ->
‘Come out’
COME OUT
worry is already bubbling up the back of your throat
you turn to jungkook. “what the fuck do i do?”
“calm down,” he whispers, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “pretend you’re asleep.”
you shake your head. “that’s gonna make it more obvious. what if he comes all the way here and continues to try and wake us up and then he’ll see the state of this damn tent when we open up?” you say while sliding on your shoes
jungkook clicks his tongue as he contemplates. “alright, whatever you do, just don’t admit, alright? we’re not exactly in an area where we have hospitals and stuff.”
you nod to what he’s saying but his last words snap you out of it
???
your heart is already starting to beat quicker than it should
“hospital??? why a hospital??? you think he’s gonna get violent?”
he shakes his head. “i’m not explicitly saying that, i’m just saying someone could get hurt whether that’s through a fight or by accident. like he could get angry and trip or hit something with his fist. we don’t exactly have anything here to take care of him.”
you blink at him for a few moments as you start tugging your pants back up and try to fix your hair
he’s so?? calm about that
he knows tae would be angry and try to fight him but he’s calm to keep you calm
:(
he adds, “just calm down, okay? i’ll be near if you need me.”
you shake your head. “no, you need to stay far away from me when i’m talking to taehyung.” you start to unzip the tent and glance back at him
just in time to watch him yank his condom off
ugh gross
you groan, “what are you going to do with that thing!!!”
“i don’t know!!! what am i supposed to do????”
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
at least he’s funny 😭😭
“y/n,” he calls out to you before you exit the tent
you turn to look at him over your shoulder
“just breathe.”
the words are so insignificant
but in this moment
they mean so much
you nod your head. you slowly crawl out and look around, the only thing that has some light is the campfire but if you squint
you see tae’s silhouette by the campfire
you take a deep breath
you can do this
you can do this.
you slowly walk up to him, watching as his figure becomes bigger and bigger until he looks up at you
“hey,” you quietly say
your hands are sweating like fucking crazy
“hey.” he rises to his feet. “come,” he says as he starts walking away from the campfire
and
away from civilians…..
where is he taking you??
why are you so nervous
just calm down
don’t get it wrong though
you’re not scared of tae, never will be
on the contrary actually he’s your home
but the tension is weird.
you quietly follow him
“where are we going?” you quietly ask
the crunching of the branches underneath your feet and the sounds of beetles making noise fill up your ears
he replies, “somewhere private, obviously.”
what the hell
what the HELL?
what’s up with him
WHAT IS GOING ON
everyone’s asleep? why would u need privacy
now you’re starting to get scared
not of him but of what he has to say
fuck
your heart is beating out of control
just breathe. breathe. jungkook said to breathe.
tae stops near the open road, leaning against a tree
you look at him confused
you start, “sooo… what did you want to talk about?”
he crosses his arms.
as if you’re supposed to know
you frown
huh???
what is going on?
fuck
have you and jungkook been too obvious after all?
you manage to collect yourself and ask, “what?”
he pinches his brows together. “jungkook.”
heart
freefalls to your feet
oh shit
oh no
oh no
“what about him?” you try to sound casual
he tilts his head to the side. “did you forget? i was going to tell you about him.”
?
wait
oh shit
oh he’s talking about
jungkook being sensitive???? going through a lot??
OH PHEWWWWW
Holy shit
thought it was about to be your last day on earth
“oh. oh!” you snap out of your thoughts. “yeah, right. right. what’s going on?”
taehyung takes a deep breath as he starts talking about jungkook
“listen. jungkook has a lot of issues and emotional baggage that you need to take into consideration when you say certain stuff to him.”
hm?
what…
this sounds..
pretty dark?
“what do you mean?”
he sighs and rubs his eyes. “i mean that you’re a bit harsh on him sometimes. jungkook grew up in a messy household. shitty dad. busy mom.”
oh right
his mother is a sensitive topic
you say, “okay, that’s sad but a lot of people grow up in broken homes.”
he nods. “you’re right but a lot of people react differently to trauma.”
ohhh kay
we getting into trauma territory ???
“and how does he react?”
“after witnessing his parents arguing and in physical altercations, jungkook decided that romance was nothing for him because he associates marriage and love with what he saw growing up.”
you blink at him.
oh
that’s actually kinda sad
you wonder how young jk was during these things :(
poor guy
“so, how’s his relationship with his parents now? does he still talk to his mom?”
he shakes his head. “his mother passed away. dad didn’t even show up to the funeral. made 15 year old jungkook go through it all on his own.”
(backstory for that is even sadder so i took it out.. might come later)
if you’ve ever felt like your heart imploded within your ribs
it was in this exact moment
the birthflower tattoo :(
you glance at the ground. “what about his dad?”
“his piece of shit dad only throws money at him. he’s rich so he thinks pumping jungkook’s bank account full of money is a good way of raising him.”
oh
that’s why
“oh. that’s why he always seems to have money but is never working a job…” you think out loud
taehyung nods his head at your epiphany
you continue, “and always wearing seemingly expensive clothes. his sneakers, the calvin klein boxers… hm.” you nod your head
he nods again but slowly stops. “what?”
???
“what?” you echo
“how do you know what kind of boxers he wears?”
fuck
oh no
you blink quickly. “what?”
he stares you down head-on. “you just said he wears calvin klein. how do you know that? what situation would you need to be in in order to know that?”
fuck
oh god
just calm down
jungkook said to stay calm and breathe
don’t admit
“tae, i share a tent with him. you think he shyly hides his shit away from me when he takes clothes out of his bag? he doesn’t really care.”
wow
you really just talked shit and it worked
cause tae’s frown subsides
“oh okay.” he rubs his chin. “well, now you know why jungkook is looking for affection anywhere he can get it because he doesn’t really care for romance.”
“oh,” you manage to say, a bit choked up. because that’s. really sad.
ugh
“he was once head over heels for a girl. it’s like she made him forget about everything.”
oh
made him forget about everything
“he swears she cheated on him but she’s adamant on the fact that they were never really together. it also added onto why jungkook doesn’t get romantically involved with people. he genuinely thinks it’s nothing for him.”
so jungkook is convinced that love just isn’t for him
:(
but then he goes out and disguises his need for love and affection as sex and quick fucks
man
:(
you do actually feel guilty about calling him a fuckboy now
like
he’s still a fuckboy
but :( u should stop saying it to his face :(
and now knowing about his mom :(
you wonder what happened…
like you really don’t need to know that
knowing she’s dead is enough
but knowing how she died makes it easier for you to talk about certain topics around jungkook
but
that’s too dark for now
however
thinking about young jungkook
associating something as beautiful as love
with something as horrible as a broken home
hm
hm?
what’s that?
oh
you’re melting
your hard shell is cracking
you just
want to hold him now :(
give him the affection he so desperately desires :(
but should you feed into it?
clearly it’s not healthy for him
you know if you’ll keep sneaking around with jungkook
he might get attached
and you don’t like jungkook like that
so you’d have to break his heart
again
:(
this is so messy
you need to call it quits with jungkook while you still can
“so just,” he sighs quietly, “i know he’s a bit of a player but he just craves affection. and seeing you two constantly bickering and being mean to each other, i just want y’all to get along. maybe even form the same type of bond you and i have. he should get affection in other ways, not just through sex, you know? you could be like,” he says as he thinks for a moment, “his big sister.”
oh for fucks sake.
this just
you’d rather tae find out about you and jungkook than assume y’all have a sibling-like bond 😭😭😭
like yeah
you and tae are very sibling like
because of tae’s responsibility to you
but if he starts thinking you and jungkook are just *gag* SIBLINGS *gag*
oh this is sickening
you slowly nod your head to what he’s saying but you wish you never heard any of it
you mumble, “let’s go back, we have to get up early.”
“okay. anything else you wanna tell me now that we have all the privacy in the world?” he says in a joking tone
you shake your head. “no, not really.”
he pauses. “really?”
???
“what?” you say
he frowns at you. “i give you the opportunity to come clean right now and you don’t?”
holy shit
what the fuck
oh shit
does he know??? he knows??????
oh no
does he actually think something is going on between you and jungkook?
fuck FUCK
he crosses his arms as he sternly stares you down.
don’t admit
you finally say, “what are you talking about?”
“i’m talking about you and yoongi.”
oh
oh right
oh yoongi…
yeah…. yoongi
you quietly sigh. “i was planning on telling you, i really was. but i don’t know, stuff just kept getting in the way.”
he nods in understanding and pulls you in for a big hug. “it’s okay. i know you’re in good hands.”
you huff. “it’s nothing serious, tae.”
he looks down at you in his arms. “i don’t like that.”
“taehyung, i’m a grown woman,” you say as you roll your eyes
“i know but i don’t wanna be the bearer of bad news back home, okay? just be careful.”
more tae & reader lore coming soon
what is he even saying…
bad news
a broken heart?
a pregnant belly?
a bad academic year?
none of those things are going to happen. trust
you roll your eyes. “nothing bad is going to happen.”
“anything could happen, y/n.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head before releasing you. “now, let’s go back.”
“okay.”
he leads you back to the camping site and walks you to your tent. “goodnight.” he rubs your shoulder before heading back to his tent
and now
you have
to face
him.
you take a deep breath as you crawl back into the tent, jungkook’s back is turned to you
is he asleep?
you’re not sure
you slowly crawl back to your space after zipping the tent back up
“what did he want to talk about?”
jungkook’s voice makes you flinch
he’s awake
“oh,” you blink at his back. “yoongi. he wanted to talk about yoongi.”
lie after lie after lie after lie after lie
he turns onto his back and glances at you, neither of you can see much anyway
“do you want to continue?”
you shake your head. “no, not really. it kind of,” you say as you recall everything taehyung just told you. “ruined my mood.”
“okay.” he slowly crawls over your body and out the tent
“what are you doin–”
“getting rid of the evidence, duh.”
evidence????
oh
the damn condom😭😭😭😭
he’s so fucking annoying
but
you kinda want to hold him now. :(
would he be weirded out
if you
cuddled him?
he probably never cuddles any of his little hookups
but
aren’t you different?
by the time jungkook has returned
you’ve crawled back into his sleeping bag
he doesn’t say anything about it as he crawls in with you
he turns his back to you and seemingly tries to go to sleep
you slowly scoot closer
and closer
and closer
until you’re pressed up against him.
“you’re really close, y/n.”
“i know, i’m sorry. i just,” you whisper, “don’t feel so good.”
he doesn’t say anything about it
just like he doesn’t say anything when you wrap your arm around his waist
and press your face into the back of his neck
and place your hand on his chest
the soft thumping of his heart against your hand
you just want him to feel loved :(
“you’re so warm,” you whisper as you close your eyes
for someone who tries to act cold… he’s really warm
so warm
“i could just,” you continue, “lie next to you for the rest of my life.”
hm
now that you think about it
there’s wordplay
cause this could mean two different things
literally lying next to each other, in a bed or whatever
but lying next to him, lying about sneaking around, lying about wanting each other
cause it seems like you’ll be lying about it for the rest of your life at this rate
however
he doesn’t say anything yet again
and it allows you to shut the fuck up
and try to fall asleep
and you do
you’re dozing off
cause you don’t remember him saying these next few words
“i could too.”
to be continued
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337 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 1 year
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WARNINGS: angst
yn hated herself for not being able to get over her ex. when huh yunjin broke up with her out of know where, yn promised herself to not be the girl stuck over her ex, she promised herself to be the girl that moves on and lives her best life.
but here she is.
crying her eyes out, after finding out that her ex has a new girlfriend a non idol one, someone who has nothing to do with the industry, unlike yn who is the leader of the monster rookie girl group new jeans.
it was minji who broke news to her after talking to chaewon. chaewon accidentally letting it slip out that yunjin has a new girlfriend.
it’s only been five weeks.
five weeks.
did she even like me ?
how can someone move on in five weeks ?
unless she moved on a while ago …
a loud sob released yn’s throat, the last thought basically stabbing her in the chest. she feels like she can’t breathe.
how could she do this to me ?
instead of sadness yn was crying out of, she was crying out of envy and anger.
I hate her.
but I still lover.
she hears a knock on her door. it hurts to talk so she doesn’t answer.
“yn unnie.” minji peaks through the crack of the door.
“yea ?” yn’s voice is strained, her throat hurts from crying so much.
“are you okay ?” minji walks towards the bed sitting on the edge.
“I’m sorry minji but I don’t wanna talk right now.” yn speaks out looking at the girl at the edge of her bed. she feels like if talks she’ll start sobbing again.
“I knew you’d say that, I just came in here to give u suggestion of writing a song, write out your feelings, it’s what you do best.” minji explains while sitting up from yn’s bed.
opening the door minji leaves the room with a quiet “love you.” shutting the door shut.
yn sits up from her bed.
maybe I should write …
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NEW JEANS YN SHOCKS FANS WITH NEW RELEASE “KILL BILL”
NEW JEANS YN TOPS THE SHARTS WITH NEW SONG KILL BILL.
FANS DEMAND YN TO PUT OUT MORE SONGS.
@yunjinsgf: “whoever broke my girls heart I just wanna have a talk.”
@kittykang: “not yn killing bitchs 😭”
@yunyn: yes I’m a delulu shipper and I hope yunjin and yn come out dating so the person who hurt my girl can suck it both them and their girlfriend can suck it”
@minjiyn: me and yn locked in like this fr we think the same 🤣
yn feels a bit better after writing the song, sometimes letting out your vulnerability is good.
hanni wraps her arms around yn “your song is breaking records unnie.” she presses her cheek against yn’s shoulder. “it’s so good too, I’ve been listening to it all day.”
“thank you ms pham.”
“are you guys ready ? we’re going out to eat” minji says walking towards the door. “yes we are.” hanni responds dragging yn towards the door.
yn laughs watching hyein tease danielle, poking her sides as the girls exit their dorm.
yeah, yn isn’t okay, but she she’ll okay soon , at least she has her members.
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“unnie,it looks like yn wants to kill you.” eunchae says to yunjin while laying on the couch.
“I know.” she responds rolling her eyes.
“maya is a cool girl, but why did you break up with yn you guys were perfect.” sakura says sitting beside the girl.
yunjin looks down at her lap. “because I made a mistake and I couldn’t take the guilt of telling her so I broke up with her.” she looks up at the two girls with teary eyes “it was for her own good.”
“you made a mistake ?” skaura questions “yunjin don’t tell me you-.”
“yea.”
“all I’m gonna say is that you should’ve told her, instead of breaking up with her out of know where leaving her blind sided.” sakura says getting up from the couch.
“you messed up, let’s hope you don’t hurt maya next.”
the thing is, she is hurting maya.
secretly.
because she can’t get over you.
and she hates herself for it.
★☆what do y’all think yunjin did ????
650 notes · View notes
vargskelegore · 1 year
Note
heyy im here with a request for shuri ^__^ how do you think being roommates with her would work? id love to see slow burn, angst, maybe a lil jealousy (nsfw maybe?), and fluff <3 thank you!
oh my god i think it’d be all over the place??? theres a lot of things that could happen, so here is what i think. (also.. all of this is fluff-- with implied sexual stuff. also black reader. forever and always.) this is also illiterate headcanons, meaning it’s not written in the way i write my fics with bulletpoints, its just thoughts i have and i write them down.
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literally the reason why you don’t have shuri as your roommate in any of my fics is BECAUSE it would be so dramatic.
i like to think it’s a dream in theory but like pair that with all the other shit, and it would be a bit of a shit show. but in a good way. kinda.
y’all spend so much time decorating the dorm room tbh. lots of records that you and shuri picked up at the local mom & pop record shop.
i also like to think that shuri designed some stupid app for y’all to use to alert each other on dorm room things.
it’s nothing big to her, but to you it means a lot bc it shows she cares about how you two function as roommates.
basically a whole honeymoon phase when you two are first becoming roommates because y’all were already friends
but of course,,,, that kinda ends.
you two had a routine of who did what in terms of “chores”
usually shuri washed your clothes for you. you genuinely never asked her to do it, but she always did it because she was sweet like that.
for her, you would clean up the room.
it’s a healthy balance, and considering y’all are friends, it’s not awkward at all.
you two also eat lunch and dinner together all the time, and usually one of you pays for lunch, the other pays for dinner.
this only became a thing because you hated shuri paying for meals all the time, and so she thought it’d be a better idea for there to be equal playing.
so yeah, y’all live in peace and harmony for a while!
until she’s starting to get comfortable around other people on campus
you can’t blame her bc you literally were the one to give her advice on feeling comfortable around everyone
and since she’s known for being a princess, it’s expected to get attention from people.
but she definitely starts enjoying this attention
don’t get me wrong, she’s humble
but now she’s comfortable with... other girls.
you weren’t worried about guys, honestly.
guys were like. always shut down by her to begin with
or they just saw her as “one of the boys” (a cringe term, but a truthful one)
but because shuri was incredibly attractive, carried herself in a masculine way but knew how to be respectful to women because she is one
all of the girls are falling head over heels for her.
shuri is lowkey oblivious to this too.
like, one time you had dinner alone, some cheap chinese food on fry street or whatever,
you had told shuri but she didn’t even respond. kinda hurt too because y’all loved getting chinese food from this spot on friday nights.
so you’re back at the dorm, probably watching pose on your bed (it’s a very angsty show.. makes sense on why you would watch it.)
eating the chinese food.
and here comes shuri coming back into your dorm with a girl.
yes, you heard me,
a mfkn girl.
now y’all aren’t officially together so you couldn’t say shit but at the same time it’s like, mf you always text me back whenever i tell you plans????? why didn’t you do it this time???
she’s looking at you like ‘oh shit’
and you’re like
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“yeah u done goofed, alright.”
and this girl she done brought to y’alls dorm is talkin bout some
“uh.. you didn’t tell me your roommate would be here.. your roommate is a majorette?”
so now this girl has a bone to pick with you as a majorette??? girl huh???
“uh, yeah. i hope that’s not a problem.. i just thought we could watch a movie or something.” shuri is freaking out like craaazy in her head
“..nah, that’s cool. text me later, shuri.” before you know it, that girl was GONE.
the silence between you and shuri is mad awkward now
literally you gotta be the first one to speak
“my text message wasn’t good enough to reply to?” your tone? bitter as hell.
shuri is cringing now bc she KNEW you were gonna bring that up.
“i swear my phone died. i was at a party.” oh shes going to PARTIES without YOU, now???? psh thats CRAZY
because you’re known for usually going to a house party but this time you wanted to chill at the dorm.
“a party, huh? you didn’t ask if i was gonna go?”
“you usually go, so i didn’t think to ask.”
“so now you just assuming?”
the way you two are responding to each other so quickly now is unreal. that’s how you know some shit is going down.
“i don’t see why it matters so much, i want to experience college life too.”
dammit, she has a point.
all you can do is stare at her.
“look, i’m here now, we can just watch whatever-”
“nah, too late now. i’m going to bed.” petty ass reader, you. you want her to KNOW you’re heartbroken 😭
shuri isn’t budging anymore. she can clearly see you don’t want to engage in conversation anymore.
you turn your laptop off, and don’t even bother plugging it in because you’re just so mad.
you turn off that lamp on your side of the room, and you pull them covers over you mad hard and turn around so she can’t see you.
mind you, she’s watching you do all of this.
it’s about twenty minutes of silence. you’re awake during all of this.
now theres some extra weight on your bed.
can you guess what it is?
hint, it’s shuri climbing into your bed to come cuddle you.
“look, i know i fucked up. usually i don’t mess up and not respond like this. i guess i’m just desperate to fit in, especially since this culture is so much different than mine. i want to experience it.” shes whispering in your ear now.
she stops talking for a moment to see if you’ll say anything, but you stay silent to keep pretending that you’re asleep. you can hear her lightly breathing, and god, does it send shivers down your spine.
“i guess i screwed over the person who showed me all of this stuff in the first place. i enjoy being roommates with you, your company is amazing and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”
you hear her stop for a moment, and her breathing stops with it. now she’s choosing her next words carefully.
“i know you’re awake. you don’t have to say anything, but just know, i really appreciate you.”
smooch.
this girl fr kissed your cheek.
now you can sleep in peace.
...
do you see why being roommates with her would be absolutely dramatic, now?
487 notes · View notes
ggukiepie · 11 months
Text
girl in luv (boy in luv pt. 6)
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: jungkook finally tells you what you've been wanting to hear for so long...but you're still not happy
tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, two idiots in love, angst (what's new), fluff, happy ending !!!, kissing hihi
wc: 3.5k
a/n: lmaoooo hi im sorry this took so long. i didn't like what i originally wrote so i scrapped the whole thing and well here it is! i hope u guys like it. this is the last part for the series. tho i do plan to post some drabbles here and there (like their first time together maybe) but no promises anw thats its bye happy reading !!!! series masterlist / main masterlist
~*~
Your phone suddenly buzzes—someone was calling you. Though, instead of answering it, you stuff your phone between your couch cushions to block out the noise. You don’t dare look at your screen, sure you’ll get tempted to answer the call—whoever that was. You haven’t got much social interaction these days, always choosing to go straight home after each class, eating by yourself, declining invites to parties and hangouts. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be this way. You did this to yourself, really. You’d rather be alone than hangout with people. You didn’t have the energy to do so. You just wanted to be in your bubble a little bit longer.
Deep down, you know you’re craving to talk to someone. Anyone. But somehow you always end up alone. With your thoughts.
Self-sabotage, if you will.
The thoughts don’t help either. Your mind always drifts to Jungkook. Sometimes you think about him and his girlfriend. Most of the time, you think of your friendship. You missed what you had, even though you had to guard your heart every time, even if you got your hopes up at the simplest of actions. You missed being with Jungkook because for the time you were with him, he felt like he was…yours? There was no doubt that you were his. Had been from the start but didn’t realize it till later on. Your heart always craved for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t with you. Your heart felt lighter when you were together, be it doing the most mundane of things or sharing a special moment.
If you could just toughen up and tell him how you feel. But it was easier said than done. He already indirectly rejected you when he got together with some girl. But why would he reject you if he never knew how you felt? Maybe you were too busy protecting your heart, protecting the friendship you might lose if you would’ve confessed. You never thought he’d feel the same, even though you had moments that felt like he did.
You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You try to focus on writing the essay in front of you. Your Friday nights felt different now—stuck doing homework while your friends were partying.
You’re finally two pages deep when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You check the time on your laptop and see it’s a little past one in the morning. You suddenly rush to open your door, scared that you’d get a noise complaint all of a sudden.
You stand frozen, mouth agape at the scene in front of you.
“Huh?” you dumbly say.
It’s your three closest friends in your doorway. Jimin and Taehyung are somewhat conscious—at least they’re standing upright. But you notice the sway in their stance and you can smell the alcohol off of them. But it’s Jungkook between them that makes you freeze. He’s passed out, you’re sure of it, and the only reason why he’s sort of standing up is because Jimin and Tae have his arms around their shoulders.
“Why are you guys here?” you finally say.
It’s Taehyung who speaks up, smiling that smile he has when he wants something to go his way. When he has a plan that you might say no to (which you usually do). “Jungkook,” he points at Jungkook, as if you’d confuse him with anyone else, “is drunk.”
“I can see that,” you deadpan.
“And!” Tae rushes to say, like you’re about five seconds from shutting the door in their faces. “He kept asking for you. So we are simply complying with his request.”
“Because we are great friends,” Jimin pipes in. Taehyung nods in confirmation.
“Me?” you whisper, as if Taehyung were referring to anyone else. Your mind isn’t any better than his drunk one at this point.
“Yes!” Jimin whisper shouts. “Now let us in, he’s kinda getting heavy.”
Jungkook makes an incoherent sound from where his head is leaning on Tae’s shoulder, drool making a wet patch on the poor guy’s shirt. You take pity on your best friend and step aside to let in all of them, even though your heart’s racing because Jungkook is in your apartment.
Holy shit.
You watch them bring his unconscious body to your couch (they actually drop Jungkook and giggle all the way to your door, saying their goodbyes without looking back).
You huff at the sight in front of you. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed red and he’s a little bit sweaty. Though, he looks so peaceful sleeping on your couch. Was he really looking for you?
You get a glass of water and two aspirins, placing it on the coffee table near him. The moment you near him, you kneel by his head and wipe the stray hairs on his forehead. You look at Jungkook, like really look at him. His eyebrows are scrunched together like something’s troubling him in his dreams. His lips are in a slight pout, lip ring glistening under your light (when did he get that, anyway?), little puffs of air coming out his mouth.
“Am I…” he mumbles. Your heart races. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth continues to move. “Am I at ____’s?”
Your heart seizes at the sound of your name. You gulp and nod slowly, then realize that he can’t hear you. “Yeah…” you trail off. “You’re in my living room.”
“Oh,” your best friend says as his eyebrows scrunch up some more. “Missed you.”
You sit back on the floor and hug your knees to yourself, preparing for whatever it is that he might say next. A drunk man’s words are his sober thoughts, right?
“Jimin and Tae said you were looking for me?”
“Mhmm,” he mumbles. “Wanted to… tell you somethin’”
You shake your head. Though your heart yearned to know, you also do know it’s not the right time. Not when he’s drunk. He might just regret his words now the next morning, which might even hurt worse than what he’s about to say. “Save it for tomorrow, Kook.” You push yourself off the floor but he stops you by holding your wrist, albeit weakly.
“Nuh uh…” he whispers. “Need to know…now. Broke up with Jiwoo.” He opens his eyes slightly and looks at you right away.
“Jungkook—”
“Like,” he continues to say, “I did it for you.”
You feel your anger rising, your body heating everywhere. “I didn’t tell you to do anything,” you firmly say.
Jungkook moves to sit up and you take a step back. “No,” he shakes his head slowly. “Jus’ didn’t feel right.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you finally walk to your bedroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. You block out the sounds of Jungkook weakly calling out your name. Your fists clench in anger, the words Jungkook just uttered replaying in your head over and over. He couldn’t just dump his problems, turn around the narrative and make it seem like you made him break up with Jiwoo. That you asked him to end things with her because it didn’t feel right. And he forced himself into your home, your personal space—and drunk at that! He knew all your weak spots and used it to his advantage.
You hope he’d be gone in the morning. You don’t think your heart can hurt any more.
You hear pans clinking which promptly wakes you up. You weren’t able to sleep that much, actually, knowing Jungkook was right outside your room. You guess he stayed in the morning. He’s either cooking in your kitchen, or someone’s trying to steal your pans.
Rubbing your eyes as you open your bedroom door, you spot Jungkook by the stove with his back turned to you. He seems to be making scrambled eggs—which is the only thing he can make confidently.
“Morning,” you say. You might as well clear the air as early as now. You watch his back tense for a millisecond before he turns off the stove and sets the pan on your dining table. He turns to face you and brings a hand up to brush his hair back, a nervous tick of his that you noticed a few years back.
“Good morning,” he mumbles.
“So,” you start.
It’s so awkward you might cry again. When did things get this out of place? You start to rethink your feelings. You haven’t even confessed yet it feels like you’ve lost your best friend already. What if you confessed? What would happen then? You felt your heart closing just thinking about it now. Was your friendship really that fragile? You and Jungkook hardly fought but even if you did, you always made up right away.
“___,” he says. You look up, eyes meeting his instantly. “About last night… I’m sorry I suddenly barged into your place. I guess I really forced Tae and Jimin to bring me here.”
You nod and lean on the wall behind you, preparing for a long talk with him.
“I just really missed you, I guess—”
“Do you remember what you said last night?” you ask harshly, cutting him off so quick his shoulders tense.
Jungkook swallows nervously and nods his head. “Yeah and… I don’t know if there’s a better to say it, really. But we did break up, ____. She just wasn’t it for me.”
“And you said you did it for me,” you say, pushing him to just get to the point.
“Yes, because I realized that my heart never belonged to her. It belonged to you. Still does,” he says in a rush.
You eye him sharply, staring at his features and expression to make sure he’s completely telling the truth. You want to believe him, you really do, but why would he say that then be with someone else.
“It doesn’t make sense,” you finally say. “Why did you get together with her, then?”
“I don’t know—”
“You don’t know,” you repeat, and Jungkook’s eyes widen in panic. “You think you can come running to me right after a break up? Like I’m some second option? You don’t love her enough so you run to me instead?”
Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, mind thinking quickly to say something. His hands start to tremble and he brings a hand up to push back his hair. “I didn’t mean that,” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t realize it soon… And—” he stutters to catch his breath. “I was just scared—”
You’re fuming at this point. How could he do this to you? To just play with your feelings like that? “Get out.”
“____—"
“I mean it, Jungkook,” you shakily say. “You’ve hurt me enough. Just leave, please.”
He looks at you longingly, doe eyes watering before he nods and turns to the door in silence. You watch him put his shoes on before he leaves, not sparing you a glance. You don’t realize you’ve been tearing up as well, wiping the tears on your cheeks. Walking to the kitchen counter, you realize that Jungkook made chocolate chip pancakes. Your favorite.
It’s been a week since the incident with Jungkook and you haven’t talked to him since then. You also missed your weekly brunch with your friends, too afraid to face Jungkook. Thinking about it now, were you a little bit too harsh? Maybe. You thought you’d finally be happy upon hearing his confession but instead you pushed him away, shut him out. Because you’re scared. Terrified. Things were already going so well with Jungkook when you both were just best friends and you don’t think you can lose him forever should you actually get together and then break up.
Funny since it feels like you’ve lost him already.
It’s 8 am and you’re all alone in the student council office, trying to get some studying done as you were restless staying in your apartment. Staying there just reminds you of Jungkook, so you’ve been spending your mornings here before the other people arrive.
Suddenly, the door opens which is unusual. You usually have the place to yourself for at least another three hours. Curiously, you look up and find your best friend standing by the doorway, laptop and coffee in hand.
It’s silent for a moment, the both of you drinking each other in. Jungkook looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep, eye bags dark and skin lackluster. You suppose you don’t look any better, knowing you barely got any sleep the past few days.
“Hi,” he finally says. You’re glad you have the long table separating the two of you. You don’t think your heart can handle being physically closer.
“Are you here for something?” you ask hesitantly.
“Can I…” He trails off, looking at the printer by the corner. You’d be laughing by now under normal circumstances. You nod instead, because it’s bizarre seeing Jungkook here asking if he can print something, which is something he liked to do back when your friendship was intact. The room is silent as you see him connect his laptop to the printer, both of you avoiding each other’s eyes. It’s too silent, actually, that it’s driving you a bit insane.
���How many pages?” you ask.
“Uhm… Fifty?” he says like he’s unsure.
“Fifty?” you repeat in a gasp. The printer is free, sure, but it’s ancient. Fifty pages will take too long and you don’t know if you can stand being in the room with him for half an hour or so.
Jungkook hands you the coffee he brought with him. “I bought you coffee as thanks.” He smiles ever so slightly and watches as you take a sip. Of course, it’s your usual order at the café down the street.
He looks at you expectantly but you’re too busy looking down at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to lock eyes with him. A few seconds later you hear him exhale and it’s just the sound of the printer in the room.
Your chest feels so tight all of a sudden like it’s ready to burst out of your ribcage any minute. It feels so heavy, so constricting that it’s starting to hurt physically. Is it really worth it harboring all this anger and pain? For conjuring up these theories in your head that will make you push him further away?
You shake your head to yourself and look up expecting to lock eyes with his, but his back is turned to you.
“Did you really mean what you said last week?” you blurt out.
Jungkook jumps in surprise and whips his body to face you, doe eyes wide. He looks surprised but he also looks relieved, and your heart breaks a little more seeing the relief cross his face the moment you talk to him.
He starts playing with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly. “I did,” he mumbles. “I mean every word I said, and I’m really sorry that everything had to turn out this way when I could’ve just been brave and confessed all those years ago.”
You nod your head at his words and process what he just said. Deep down you know you believe him, but it’s hard to keep that in mind when the hurt outweighs the truth. You look up at him with a sad smile on your face. “Why now, Kook? After all these years.”
He sighs and leans on the chair in front of him. You notice his shoulders deflate and his back hunch a little. He looks tired and you feel your own tiredness in your bones as well. “I was just scared. Us being friends was so comfortable and so good… I was just scared of things changing and me losing you.”
You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. Looking to the side of the room to avoid his stare, you whisper, “And I know—” you choke on your words and clench your hands in frustration. “And I know I’m at fault as well—for assuming and pulling away once you got together with her. I had no right because we’re just…friends.”
It’s quiet save for the printer and his feet shuffling on the floor. You turn towards him to see Jungkook slowly walking to where you’re sat. Once he’s standing in front of you, he raises his hands towards your face but stops midway. Like he’s about to hold you but he’s hesitant.
You’re tilting your head to look up at him, eyes shiny with tears but lip turned upwards in a small smile. It’s ok, you mouth, because you don’t trust yourself to speak right now. You watch Jungkook hold your face in his hands, thumbs going behind your ears to rub at your skin slowly, fingers splayed on your cheeks to wipe your tears away.
He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”
You nod your head absentmindedly, heart squeezing at the affectionate way he talks to you.
“I really am sorry,” he repeats. “I… Yeah, we’re just friends but I’d like to believe that we both just know. That you felt my love the same I’ve been feeling yours ever since. Even though we’re just friends. But…I know better now.”
You look at him confusingly and he looks away from you and smiles, his cheeks turning a light shade of red. You watch in silence as he plays with his lip piercing distractedly. Finally, he turns to you still with that smile on his face. His thumb starts playing with your lower lip but he’s looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes.
You’ve seen this look on him before, every time you’re with him, and now do you only realize that it’s a look full of love, desire, yearning.
“It’s scary if we do become something more and I end up losing you,” he starts, “but I’d rather live a life of at least knowing what it feels like to love you and be loved by you, than doing nothing at all.”
Tears are streaming down your face but you’re smiling so wide and Jungkook’s doing the same as well, with his nose even scrunching up and his dimples showing.
“I think it’s normal to feel scared,” you finally reply. “But I’d also rather live a life of us loving together than loving from afar.”
It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook stare at each other. He’s wiping off your tears which makes him cry a little more, so you wipe his tears next. You’re both crying now but with happy smiles on your faces and it prompts you both to laugh.
“We were kinda stupid, huh?” Jungkook says in between giggles.
You nod and giggle back. “A bit silly, yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asks. Your heart starts racing and your palms get clammy. You start feeling nervous but it’s the good kind, finally getting to do something you’ve been anticipating, been waiting for ever since you realized your heart belonged to your best friend.
“Please,” you whisper.
Jungkook wastes no times in leaning forward, his grip on your cheeks tightening just a bit, pulling you upwards to meet his lips. Your lips finally touch and it steals your breath away. Quite literally.
Jungkook’s lips are soft, slots perfectly right in between yours. He kisses how he holds you—gentle and careful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his tongue, and you grant his wish by opening your lips just slightly.
There are no fireworks or sparks or anything grand like that. Your heart suddenly feels calm and at ease. Like this is what you’re meant to do. It feels like coming home for the first time where everything feels right. You feel a great weight lift off your shoulders and you know you’ve made the right decision by choosing love.
Jungkook pulls back but only slightly so he can catch his breath. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours and when he speaks, you feel his lips move.
“I love you,” he whispers, and the way he looks at you with his eyes, like it holds so much love and adoration and it’s all for you. “Wish I said it sooner but I don’t want to think about that. Don’t want to live and continue on with regrets. I’m so happy to have you like this,” he whispers shakily. “So lucky to be able to love you like this.”
You kiss him again which causes him to smile so wide that his dimples pop out. “I love you too.” You giggle again. Saying it is so freeing and it feels so normal too. Not some grand epiphany or realization. Like you’ve known ever since. Like your heart has felt this way throughout your years of friendship with Jungkook and only now are you able to verbalize it. You know you’re lucky, too, to be able to have him in this way. But you don’t want to give too much credit to luck. You believe yours and Jungkook’s love were destined ever since.
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