#and most of you are kids compared to me so of course i do have some wisdom sometimes)

[helianthus-hellion]

public school is a good opportunity for socialization for kids whose parents can't afford most of those extracurriculars, and at least in my area nearly all of the extracurriculars i went to were clubs at my school? if you can't afford to enroll your kid in extra clubs or classes, and they aren't meeting other kids at school to have play dates with, then it does severely limit your options for allowing them to socialize with other kids. and while i 100% agree that the public school system needs to be reformed in terms of how it treats kids, it is an essential skill for most people to learn how to deal with things like being around kids you don't like, interacting with a wider range of people, and working together on things like group projects - we can, right now, see the results of the majority of kids across the US not gaining those skills thanks to isolation during the beginning of the pandemic. i've seen a ton of teachers talk about how their students aren't equipped to deal with social issues in the same way previous classes had been, and students being rude and having a lower regard for other people. not all public schools are great at developing those skills, of course, and i do think that framing it as a unique failing of homeschool is false, but it is something that needs to be considered when deciding whether or not to homeschool your child (or when creating policy around homeschooling or, frankly, around how public schools should be run).

on a personal level, my parents couldn't afford to send me to classes or events outside of those offered for free (or lowered cost) by my school, and i really didn't have many friends outside of school - we moved around a lot (especially when i was younger), we didn't go to church or anything comparable, and i was shy as hell so if we went to the park i never talked to other kids there, i just did my own thing. i did, briefly, have a few friends that were kids of my mom's friends, and in a couple houses we lived in i was friends with neighbor kids, but pretty much all of my social interaction as a kid was at school, and i imagine the same is true for a lot of public school kids.

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[bteezxyewriter12]

Good Time

Pairing- OT7 x Named Reader

Word count- 9.4k

Includes- Orgy, So Much Sex, nipple play, pussy eating, cum eating, blow job, cock riding, sex from behind, double penetration (mouth and pussy), double vaginal penetration, triple penetration (mouth and pussy), missionary, so much cum, rough sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝OT7 Masterlist

J POV

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah”, Namjoon says

“All of you are ok with this?”, I ask them

Six other heads nod at me

I turn to Namjoon, “You’re ok with this?”

“Yeah Jo. We talked about it and we’re all good. The only thing left is asking you.”

I stare in shock at my friends

My friends are BTS, the most popular boy group in the world right now

And those friends just asked me to have sex with all of them

At the same time

I’m blown away

They can have any girl or hell, hire any girl to do this

Why me?

Namjoon is my best friend since we were kids, when I moved to Korea

And we occasionally have sex

He’s too busy for a girlfriend and I’m don’t want a boyfriend right now so when were both horny, we just fuck each other

They guys knew this of course

They can hear how Namjoon makes me scream

But now they’re asking for this?

Don’t get me wrong I’m interested but I want to know why me?

What’s the reason and why are they asking me now?

I don’t trust anyone, not fully

Not even friends or family

“Why me?”, I ask

“What?”, Namjoon answers

“Why me? Why not some fan or some girl you can hire? Why are you asking me and why now?”

“Because you’re fucking hot”, Yoongi answers

“Because I want to make you scream like Namjoon does”, Jimin replies

“All of us have fantasized about being with you”, Tae adds

“And it’s you because we trust you”, Hobi says

I just keep staring

They trust me?

Wow

I mean I knew they trusted me but it’s different with this

The guys are seen as pure, innocent boys to their fans

It’s different here in Korea compared to the U.S.

Artist’s fans feel like the idols belong to them

Dating can tank a career in a nanosecond

And having an orgy?

That’s a huge hell no, if that comes out

I guess I could see why they asked me

I would never hurt them, I love them

I wouldn’t blackmail them or anything

But before I agree, I need more details

I’m not about to catch any diseases

I don’t know where they’re dicks have been

“I have a few questions”, I say

“Shoot”, Namjoon answers

“Is this going to be with condoms or without? I have an IUD, so I won’t get pregnant”

“Without”, Jin answers

I’m surprised that Jin said that

Hell I’m surprised that he even agreed to this

“Ok, how do I know you don’t have anything? Any STDs?”

“We each got tested and have the papers with the results. I know you only have sex with me and I know you don’t have anything.”, Namjoon hands me some papers

My mouth drops

Seriously?

“How long have you been planning this?”, I ask as I look at the papers

They’re all clean

Thank god

“Awhile”, Jungkook answers

“Yeah I see that”, I respond, “When did you want to do this?”

“Tonight”

Me head snaps up

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Is that ok with you?”, Tae asks

I think about it

Sex with all of BTS?

Hell yeah

I’ve never done this either but I trust them, especially after everything they just said

And I get to be with the one that I love

Who I’m never telling I have feelings for

He wouldn’t want me anyway but he definitely won’t want me after this

But at least I get to be with him once

That makes having sex with the other guys worth it

He’s never want me on his own

So I’ll just have fun with the guys and get to be with him too

I nod, “Yeah. But one thing is no anal. I haven’t done that ever and I don’t want to”

“Ok. No problem”, Yoongi answers

“Uh are you guys gonna…touch or do anything to each other?”

“No!”

“Hell no!”

“Never”

I laughed

“No Jo. We’re only going to touch you, fuck you, share you”, Namjoon answer

“Ok”, I agree

“Ok? That’s it?”, Jimin asks

I shrug, “Yeah. Unless you want it in writing?”

“No, that’s good”, Namjoon says

We sit in silence for a minute

“Now what?”, I ask

“Take your clothes off”, Jin blurts

I raise my eyebrow

Damn Jin must be horny as fuck right now

I stand up and pull my shirt over my head

“Mother of god!”, one of them shouts

I scan their faces and they’re staring intently at me

Namjoon, however, just smirks

He’s seen everything already and he’s having a good time seeing them get turned on

I unbutton my jeans and pull them down, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side

I’m now just standing in a skimpy red lacy bra and panties set

I wore them for Namjoon but I guess it works for now too

“Come here”, Jimin calls

I walk over to him and he touches my body

His hands run over my stomach, sides and the hip piercings I have

“Are these..piercings?”, he asks, looking up at me

I nod

“Your tattoos are so hot”, he says and he starts kissing my stomach

His lips are so soft and feel nice on my skin

I have tattoos on my body

I kept them off my arms so I can get a job but I have a lot everywhere else, so they’re easily hidden

Jimin suddenly stops and pulls my bra, snapping the clasp and taking it off

“Jesus, they’re so big”, Jungkook whispers

“Joanne, come here”, Yoongi calls me

“See you later Jimin”, I smirk and walk to Yoongi

As soon as I get to him, Yoongi immediately touches my tits

He pulls me closer and puts his mouth on my nipple, sucking on it

Fuck. It feels so good. I get so wet just from him doing this

I can’t help it, I moan

“That’s fucking hot!”, Hobi says

Yoongi’s hands are cold as he touches me but I don’t care

I’m feeling hot anyway

Yoongi moves his hands lower and grabs at my panties

He pulls, the strings ripping and tears them off my body

He touches me and moans on my nipple

My hands go in his hair and pull softly

“She’s so fucking wet already”, he says

“You had enough Yoongi. I want her”, I hear a voice say

Yoongi reluctantly let’s go of me

I turn to the direction of the voice

“Who said they wanted me?”, I ask

“Me”

Jin

I never thought of Jin this way but with the way he’s been acting tonight, I want him

He starts touching me as soon as I get close

He pulls me on his lap and actually kisses me

He’s a good kisser

He kisses me for a few minutes, touching me lightly

“Stand up”, he says

When I stand, he stands up with me, then moves me and pushes me on the recliner he was sitting on

He kneels in front of me

What is he doing?

He opens my legs and pulls me to him, his tongue on my pussy in an instant

“Fuck!”, I yell from the pleasure Jin is giving me

“Oh my god”, one of the guys says

I hear zippers being undone, pants dropping but I’m too lost in what Jin is doing

Who knew that Kim, Seokjin is amazing at eating pussy?

When his tongue lick my clit, I jump and moan loudly

“There Jo? You like it there?”, he smirks

“Yes Jin. Fuck, don’t stop”

I hear some of the guys moaning

When I look at them, they’re all in various stages of undress, hands on their cocks, eyes glued to me and Jin

Just seeing them, gets me more wet

When Jin sucks on my clit, I lose it, pleasure exploding around my body

“Fuck Jin. Yes, yes!” I scream, my hands going in his hair and pulling

He moans in my pussy and the vibration goes through my whole body

I feel him licking my clit in one spot over and over and it pushes me over the edge

“Jin! Oh god Jin"!, I scream as my orgasm hits me and my body shakes

"Oh my god that’s so hot!”

“Look at her shake”

“She’s fucking beautiful when she cums”

Jin slides his tongue inside, licking everywhere and causing me to cum again, my pussy squeezing his tongue

“He made her cum again”

“Fuck, fuck”

“How does she tastes?”

Jin pulls away, staring at me, “Fucking incredible”

His eyes are filled with lust and I get so excited

“My turn”, Tae yells as he comes over

Jin moves and Tae’s tongue is immediately on me

“God!”, I yell

Tae moves his tongue so fast and pleasure shoots up my spine

“Hey”, I hear Tae yell

I look down and see Jimin push Tae out of the way, his tongue now fucking me

“Move”, Tae yells and pushes Jimin and putting his tongue back

“No you move”, Jimin pushing Tae again and I feel his tongue back on me

This is so fucking hot, I never thought I’d have two guys, let alone two BTS members fighting over who can lick my pussy

“Hey!”, Namjoon says loudly

They both stop and look at him

“Share or you don’t get anything. Right Jo?” Namjoon says

“Yea”, I agree softly

“Fine”, Tae answers

“Fine”, Jimin adds

Suddenly I feel two tongues licking my pussy

What?

I look down and almost cum from what I’m seeing

Jimin and Tae are both eating me out, Tae licking my clit while Jimin licks around my entrance

And it feels mind blowing

“Oh my god, ahhhhh, uhhhh, fuck”, I cry

I’ve never had two tongues on me at the same time

Just the feel of two different speeds, two different sensations in different spots, makes the pleasure overwhelming

I put one hand in each of their hair and pull

I love pulling hair while being eaten out

“Put your tongue in her when she cums and you can taste all of her”, Jin tells them

Tae clamps his mouth on my clit and sucks while Jimin slides his tongue inside and licks

My body trembles as the pressure inside bursts and I cum, screaming both their names

“Taehyung, oh god, Jimin, Jimin! Taehyung!”

Jimin makes moaning sounds as Tae pulls away

“Switch Jimin! I want some too!”, Tae whines

Jimin pulls his tongue out and snaps his lips on my clit

Tae starts licking again, both of them pushing me to orgasm again

“C'mon baby”, Jimin coaxes, “Let Tae have some of you too. He wants it.”

“Oooo….ok”, I moan

Jimin sucks on my clit and Tae’s tongue goes in my pussy

I’m really sensitive from coming three times already, but it still doesn’t take long for me to orgasm again

Namjoon fucks me so good and for so long, giving me orgasm after orgasm that overstimulation isn’t an issue anymore

It’s like he trained my pussy to take a lot

And I’m happy about it

When I’ve calmed down, Tae takes his tongue out and tells me, “You’re my new favorite flavor.”

I shiver from his words

Namjoon comes over and picks me up, placing me on the couch

He sits next to me and starts sucking on my nipple

“Fuck Joonie”

“I know what you like baby”, he smiles

“I know”

He leans up and kisses me before going back to sucking on my nipple

Jungkook comes next to me on the other side and takes my other nipple in his mouth

“Kookie”, I moan

My eyes are closed and I feel my legs open and a wet tongue on my pussy again

I open my eyes and I watch Hobi go at it, eating me out

“Fuck Hobi, you’re good at this”, I whimper

“Better than me?”, Namjoon asks, jealousy in his voice

“Joonie, I don’t know if anyone can fuck me or eat me out as good as you.”

He smiles

“That’s not fair. He’s been able to fuck you so many times, you can’t compare it”, Jimin whines

“Then you just have to fuck me as good as he does.”, I tease

Jimin stares, “I will, don’t worry about that”

“Good…fuck Hoseok….luck”, I smirk at Jimin, just managing to get my words out

God, everything is feeling so good, Hobi is amazing

And I want to tell him

“Hobi, you’re tongue feels so fucking good”

I see him smirk against me

He then flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue and I shout, my hips snapping up in his face

“Fuck Joanne, I like that. Don’t stop”, Hobi cries

So I don’t, thrusting my hips up over and over, just feeling

“She’s fucking his face, why does he get that?”, Tae whines

“Are you jealous?”, Jimin teases

“Yes!”

One more lick from Hobi has me screaming

He slides his tongue in and I explode all over it

“Hoseok! Hoseok!”, I scream, pleasure hitting me everywhere

Hobi is pulled away by Yoongi who slips his tongue inside and licks a few times

Then he moves away

“You’re right, she tastes fucking amazing”, he smirks at me

I just stare at him with my mouth open

He’s fully naked and he’s so beautiful and hot and sexy and everything at the same time

My eyes go to his cock and fuck, it’s big.. Like huge

And thick

He sees where I’m looking and smirks again

“You want it?”, he asks

I nod

“I don’t know if you can handle me”, he says cockily

I snort, “Yeah ok”

“Yeah? Then come and get it”

I shoot up immediately and push him onto one of the recliners in the room

I climb on top of him and slide down his cock slowly, my turn to tease him

“Fuck, Joanne, fuck, fuck”, he shouts his eyes closed

I stop half way and he opens his eyes

I kiss his lips softly, then tease him more, “You want it Yoongi?”

Now he nods rapidly

“Then take what you want”, I whisper in his ear

He stares at me, then growls, his hands grabbing my hips and slamming me down the rest of his huge cock

“Fuck!”, I scream as he shouts, “Shit”

I push him back into the chair

“I’m gonna fuck you so good Yoongi, you’ll be thinking about it for months”, I whisper

His mouth drops open and I take that opportunity to lift up and slam down on him

“God!”, he yells

I start moving rapidly on him, rotating my hips as I move, tightening my pussy, making it so tight for him to push through and making it all the more pleasurable

For both of us

“God, Joanne, you’re so fucking tight. The way you’re moving…it's driving me insane”, he groans

“I told you I’m good at sex”, I whisper, his cock making me wetter and wetter with each bounce

“You are, fuck, yes, you are”, he shouts

“Am I gonna make you cum baby?”, I tease

“Yes, yes”, he cries

He feels so good and I can cum on his hard cock right now

But he was being cocky before and he can’t get what he wants right away

I wanna have some fun with him

He thinks he’s so big and bad

Ha

I know he’s about to cum by how hard he’s squeezing my hips

At that moment, I climb off him

“What the fuck?”, he yells shocked

I smirk, “You think you’re the only one who can be cocky? The only one to tease?”

He splutters but doesn’t get any words out

I lean over him, “You have to wait now, Yoongi. Watch all your friends fuck me. And you better not jerk off or you get nothing. You better be good and maybe I’ll fuck you again and let you cum.”

I see him battling between rage and pure lust

Well let him decide what he wants

He can have me or not

It’s all up to him

I feel arms around me and I lean back to see Jimin holding me to him

Jimin kisses me, one hand squeezing my breast, his other sliding down my body to my pussy

He starts rubbing my clit, making me wet

He kisses my neck, while I lean against him, moaning

“Come on Joanne. Let me fuck you”, he says

“Ok Jimin.”

When I look at Yoongi, who we’re standing in front of, I see jealously on his face

Aww, he’s jealous because he has to wait

Oh well

Shouldn’t have been an ass

Jimin picks me up and I giggle as he brings me to the couch where Jungkook is sitting

He moves to get up but I have an idea

“Stay Kookie”, I say

I get on my hands and knees bending over

Jimin gets behind me and slams himself inside and oh god he feels good

“Damn Joanne, you feel so good. So wet.”, he whimpers

“Hard Jimin. Fuck me hard”

“Whatever you want Jo”, he answers as he pounds mercilessly into me

And I fucking love it

I motion for Jungkook to lay in front of me

He’s beautiful too and his fucking abs are such a turn on

“Jesus, Jungkook. I don’t know what you’re doing to her but she just got so fucking wet, it’s falling down her thighs”, Jimin groans

“I’m….I’m..not doing anything. She’s just looking at me”, Jungkook stutters

I lean over him and lick his abs

“Fuck”, he moans

I kiss his stomach and touch him

“The famous Jungkook abs”, I tease

I move my hand down and grab his erection, moving it up and down

“And the famous Jungkook cock, that drives ARMYS crazy when you thrust it to ‘Baepsae’ and so many girls want to fuck.”

He moans again

“I get to touch it. I get to fuck it, I get to lick and suck it”

I swear he’s getting harder and harder in my hand as I keep talking

“Yeah, Joanne, yeah, only you can touch it”, he whines

I think I teased him enough

So I wrap my mouth around his large hard as rock cock and suck

“Fuck me, oh my god”, he yells

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll fuck you too��

He nods, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good”

I take all of him in my mouth, his cock hitting the back of my throat and going a little further in

Thank god I don’t have a gag reflex

I move my head up and down, licking his cock with my tongue and sucking it

I didn’t forget about Jimin, who's fucking me hard like I asked

Who's making me feel so good

Like with Yoongi, I tighten my pussy on his cock while he moves

“Oh my god Joanne. Oh my god. Don’t let go”, Jimin shouts

I let go of Jungkook and look behind my shoulder

“As long as you keep going hard, I won’t let you go”

He nods

His grip tightens on my hips and he starts pulling me back on his cock, while he thrusts in

“Uhhhh, yes Jimin, baby you’re cock feels so fucking good”, I praise him

“Me? Baby you’re fucking pussy is heaven”, he cries, "So fucking creamy. Pretty mess on my dick"

Jungkook puts his hand in my hair and pulls me back to his cock

“Please”, he pants hard

Poor baby wants it so much

So I give it to him

With Jimin behind me and Jungkook in my mouth, I feel myself getting ready to cum

Jimin slams a few more times and I let go of Jungkook to scream Jimin’s name, coming all over his cock

“Jimin! Fuck me, Jimin!”

He keeps thrusting and then he yells, “Oh god Jo, oh man”, as he orgasms

He pulls out and I get up, his cum running down my legs

“Come here”, Jungkook yells

“But…Jimin just came..”

“I don’t care. Fuck me now!”

Shit

I like this side of Jungkook

“Joanne! Get on my cock right now and ride me until we both cum! Now!”

That’s fucking sexy as hell

I move quickly and slide on his cock in an instant

God, he’s so hard and thick I don’t even have to squeeze him to make myself tight

His cock already fills me up perfectly

I bouncing on him, up and down, moving on him the same way I moved on Yoongi

I glance over my shoulder at Yoongi. He's watching with pure jealousy and struggling not to touch his cock

I smirk at him and he frowns more

I decide to tease him more

“How’s my Yoongi? Horny?”

He gives one nod but doesn’t answer

“Don’t be mad baby. You’re being good so far so maybe you can have me again”

He clenches his jaw but doesn’t say anything

I turn back to Jungkook when he grabs my hips and starts slamming me on him

“Pay attention to me baby. My cock is fucking you now and making you feel good. Look at me”

“Hmmm, maybe if you go harder, it’ll feel better”

His eyes narrow and he starts moving harder

“Yeah Kookie. Good boy”, I cry as pleasure washes over me

He slams up again and I cum instantly from that thrust

“Kookie! Jungkook!”

He thrusts a few times then holds me down on him as he orgasms

“Joanne, you’re so good, oh god!”

He collapses against the couch and I climb off, more cum dripping out of me

'I need to wipe this off’, I think.

Until I’m pulled to the floor by some of the guys on my hands and knees

I feel a cock slide in me and my pussy instantly clamps on it by itself

“Jesus, she wants more. She grabbed my cock so fast”, Tae moans

“Jo, let go a little”, Namjoon says

“Wha? Why?”

“Just do it”

I force my muscles to loosen around Tae

My leg is lifted and I actually feel another cock slide in with Tae’s

What the fuck?

How is this possible? And so much for them not touching each other

“Who?”, I start

“Jin and Tae”, Hobi answers

Both guys start moving and the pleasure I feel is so intense

"Oh my fucking god. Oh fuck, fuck”, I scream

“Fuck Tae, she loves both of us in her”, Jin moans

“Yeah”, Tae groans, “You like two cocks in you baby girl?”

“Yes fuck yes”, I yell

I didn’t know I could feel like this, that it could feel so good

I see Hobi sitting on the couch in front of me watching me get fucked by two if his friends

His hand is on his cock and I want it in my mouth so much

“Hobi”, I call

“Yeah?”

I glance up at him, “I want your cock in my mouth”

He whimpers, “O…ok”

He kneels in front of me and I put his cock right in my mouth, down my throat and start sucking

“Joanne, fuck. Your mouth, your tongue, fuck!”, Hobi shouts

He tastes good and I love feeling him going in and out of my throat

I feel a hand on my clit and turn my head slightly

Namjoon is next to me jerking off and rubbing my clit while Jin and Tae fuck me

“It’s ok baby. I fuck you all the time. Let the guys have fun���, Namjoon groans

I nod, still fucking Hobi with my mouth

“I’ll fuck you later ok?”

“Mmmmm”

While I’m loving this, Namjoon fucks me the best because he knows my body

And I know his

I can get him to cum in under a minute

He can do the same to me

I feel pressure building up and I don’t know who, but one of them slams me and with Namjoon still playing with my clit, I cum on both of them, letting go of Hobi, screaming, “Jin! Jin!, Taehyung, yes Taehyung!”

“God Joanne, you feel so good when you cum”, Tae groans

“Yeah, so fucking tight”, Jin whines

They keep thrusting and I start sucking Hobi again, with him watching me

“Fuck Joanne!”, Tae yells as he explodes, then pulls out after he finishes

I feel Jin shift and his hands grab my hips, thrusting fast and deep

I feel another orgasm and I cry around Hobi’s cock as the pleasure washes over me

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Jo, yes”, Jin shouts

He pounds in one more time and then holds me against him while he orgasms

When he pulls out Hobi starts yelling, “Fuck I’m gonna cum, move her, I want in”

Tae, Jin and Namjoon flip me on my back, Tae and Namjoon each holding one leg open for Hobi

Hobi doesn’t waste anytime driving his cock in me and slamming relentlessly

“So tight. So good”, he says not forming sentences

I close my eyes, feeling the sensation of Hobi’s firm cock in me

I just came twice and I feel another coming

“Don’t stop Hobi”, I beg

“I won’t baby. Not until you cum first”, he promises as he pulls and holds me up with an arm around my back

The angle makes him hit deeper inside and I yell

It feels so fucking amazing

Hobi is good at sex too

“Hobi, Hobi, Hobi”, I call over and over

“Yeah baby, say my fucking name. Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else.”

“Hey”, Namjoon yells

“Yes Hobi, fuck, you fuck me better than anyone so far”, I repeat

“Joanne!”, Namjoon yells again, surprised and upset

I honestly don’t even know what I’m saying

I’ve been fucked so much and orgasmed so much I can’t think

And the next one comes now

“Hoseok, Hoseok!”, I cry, my body shaking uncontrollably

“Yeah baby, fuck yeah”, he murmurs, still ramming me until he shouts and cums too

Hobi gently lays me back down before pulling out and collapsing next to me

I lay there for a few minutes, just breathing and relaxing

Until Namjoon comes

He thrust inside hard and pounds away

“I fuck you better than anyone Joanne. I was going to fuck you later but now I have to remind you who gives it to you good”, he yells

“Yes Namjoon”, I pant, “More”

Fuck he really does fuck me the best

The pleasure is running through my body and feels so so good

He drives his cock in harder and faster, knowing exactly what to do to me

“Your body listens to me”, he growls,

“Cum now”

He thrusts again and I cum just like he wants

“Good girl”, Namjoon moans, “Again, now!”

And I explode on him again

He pounds a few times then holds me to him as he cums, yelling

After he lays down next to me, breathing hard

I get up, wobbling on my legs

Cum still slides down my legs when I stand but this time I don’t know who's it is, since four of them came in me one after the other

Just thinking about that makes me feel like a slut

I shrug to myself, I probably am but God did I love this

“I’ll be right back”, I say and walk to the bathroom

My legs feel like jelly as I walk

I get to the bathroom, then clean myself up with soap and water

I walk back to the living room

All the guys are laying around, eyes closed or watching me

All but Yoongi

Who's sitting, still stiff and watching me

I saunter over to him

“You’re turn”, I whisper to him

How I have the energy to still go I’ll never know

But I don’t want to be unfair to him

Everyone else got off, he should too

Yoongi glares at me but instead of being scared, it turns me on

He’s so fucking sexy and he doesn’t know it

And it gets me wet

“I’m not scared of you Yoongi. Never was, never will be”

It’s true

He can look and even be mean but I’m not scared of him

I just give him his shit right back to him

“So you can glare at me all you want”

I grab his hand and put it on my pussy so he can feel how soaked I am

“It doesn’t do anything but turn me on”

He moans and bites his lip as he slides his fingers around and inside

“So if you wanna give me an attitude, you know you’ll get one back. And if you wanna act like an ass, I’ll walk away, let someone else fuck me and you can jerk off.”, I threaten

“No. No. I’ll be good. I promise”, he says quickly

“Good fucking boy”

He nods his head quickly, “Yes, I’m your good boy"

I cock my head, “cute”

I pull his hand away and he whimpers

Big bad Yoongi, whimpering for sex

I love it

I climb on top of him, hovering right over his hard leaking erection

“Take it Yoongi”, I whisper

He doesn’t need to be told twice

He grabs my hips and slams me down on him

“Fuck!”, we both scream

“Move Jo. Please Fuck me. I waited like you asked. Fuck me”, he begs

“Anything you want Yoongi”

I slam up and down on him, hard and fast, moving on him like I did before, making sure his cock hits my spot, pleasure roaring in my body

His eyes are squeezed closed and his grip on my hips are turning his knuckles white, him panting rapidly. But the pain feels so good

“Yoongi, baby, you’re cock feels so good”, I praise

It’s true

Yoongi’s cock is the biggest and thickest out of all of them

Bigger than Jungkook and like Jungkook, I don’t have to squeeze him for it to be tight

But I do it anyway to make it tighter for him

“You’re so tight Jo, you fuck me so well”, he moans, my pussy making a squelching sound every time I take him in

I kiss him, putting my arms around his neck, my hands sliding in the back of his hair

I'm slamming harder and harder, clenching him tighter, while he moans under me.

Grabbing a fistful of hair, I pull his head back against the chair cushion and plant kisses all over his neck

He moans loudly when I kiss one spot and I smirk against his skin

I concentrate on kissing and licking right in that spot he likes

“Fuck. I don’t want to leave your pussy. Please Jo, don’t make me leave”, he begs

“Shhh, Yoongi, you don’t have to baby. You can stay”, I murmur, riding him as hard and fast as I can, my pussy leaking and clenching hard around him

“God Jo, you’re so good. I’ve never been fucked this good before”, he whimpers

I smile, happy about that

I lean down and whisper in his ear, “Cum Yoongi. I want it so much”

He’s breathing so hard but he manages to get out, “Yyyy….you first. I…fuck….I want to feel you cum on me”

Fuck, his words turn me on so much and I feel the familiar pressure of an orgasm coming

I slide up and down his shaft a few more times before I explode as an orgasm tears through my body

“Yoongi, fuck!”

As I clamp down on his cock, he grips me tighter and puts his head against my chest, yelling while he cums

“Joanne baby, shit”

He leans back when he’s finished, still in me and he’s still hard as a rock

“Yoongi, you’re still hard”

“Huh?”, he asks, his head lifting up

I get off him and he looks down

Our cum is mixed on his cock but it’s still fully erect

I’ve never seen this before

Namjoon has been extremely horny before but it takes him at least ten minutes before he gets hard again Yoongi just came and nothing changed

He’s still hard

Wow

“Huh”, he says as he looks at himself then he looks back at me

“Get on”, he demands

"What?”

“Get on. You kept your promise to fuck me good and you're right, I’m going to be thinking about that for a long time. But now I’m gonna fuck your brains out and you won’t want anyone but me to fuck you anymore.”

I smirk, “You can try”

“Then get on my cock and let me wreck you”

I get so wet and excited, I immediately slide on his cock

“Fuck, Yoongi, you fit so good in me”, I whisper

“I know baby. I don’t want to be anywhere else”, he replies, quietly

Then he says, “We got an audience”

I turn and see the guys watching us, hands on their erect cocks

“They’re gonna jerk off to us”, I giggle

He shrugs, “I don’t care about them. I want you right now”

“Then fuck me hard Yoongi”

He smirks and thrusts up hard causing me to scream

He holds my hips again and lifts me up, then slams me down as he thrusts up

The pleasure is so fucking intense

More intense that when Tae and Jin were in me

He keeps going so hard and fast

I fucking love it

He’s hitting all the right places and pretty soon he has me coming again

“Yoongi, ahhh”, I scream

He doesn’t stop, he gets up and carries me to the couch

“Get off”, Yoongi yells at Jimin and Jungkook

They scramble off and he lays me on the couch on my back

He rips open my legs and thrusts inside, immediately pounding ruthlessly into me

It feels amazing

He leans over and kisses me, his tongue sliding in my mouth and I love the way it feels

He kisses my neck and down to my breast

He sucks on one of my nipples while he squeezes the other with his fingers

I gasp as the pleasure and all too soon I’m ready to cum

But just as I’m going to, he pulls out

“Fuck”, I yell

He smirks at me, “Don’t like it huh?”

“No!”, I snap

“Now you know how it feels”

Yeah, not fucking fun to be pulled out of pleasure like that

But I’m still not sorry I did it to him

I roll my eyes while he kisses my body, licking and sucking on my skin

He sucks on a nipple again and I’m even more drenched

“Damn Jo, you want me that much? You just fucking soaked the cushion”

I glare at him, “Then shut up and fuck me”

“Ok”, he shrugs and pleasure returns to my body as he pushes in

He puts my legs on his shoulders and slams in deeper than any of the guys went

This position makes my orgasm come much faster

Then the pleasure leaves my body as he pulls out again

“YOONGI!”, I scream, frustrated

He laughs

He fucking laughs

That’s it

“Hobi come fuck me now”, I yell

“No he can’t.”, Yoongi answers

“Yes he can. He fucked me the best tonight and he can do it again.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash and he growls, “No he’s not going to. I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make you scream louder than Namjoon does. I’m going to be the one who fucks you the best out of any guy you ever fucked or will fuck. You’ll never forget about me, the same way I’ll never forget about you!”

I stare at him in shock

He’ll never forget me?

He actually said that?

I can’t think of anything to say

But then I don’t have to because as soon as he’s done speaking, he goes back in harder and faster than before

Again once I get close, he pulls out

I get so fucking pissed but I don’t say anything this time

He teases me two more times and I just get more frustrated

He smirks at me and kisses me

I’d turn my head but I like his kisses

He goes back in, legs still on his shoulders

It feels fantastic

I’m scared to give in to the strong pleasure because he’s gonna pull out again and everything is going to stop

So I just breathe heavily, not screaming because what’s the point if it’s just gonna stop?

“What’s the matter baby?”, he asks

“Nothing”, I answer

“You don’t like it?”

I shake my head, “I do. I love it but you’re just gonna stop again and I’m waiting for that.”

“Not this time baby, I’m gonna let you cum.”

“I promise Jo.”

I nod and just give in to the feelings

“Scream for me”, he asks

He slams in and I can’t help it, I scream

No words, just noise

I can’t think to form words

“Yeah my baby girl, scream again”

I just can’t handle it

I’m hot, I’m sweaty, and I just want to cum

I let out a long scream from his fucking amazing cock hitting the right places

“Cum, baby girl. I know you want to”

It’s like my body is his because as soon as he tells me to, I cum so fucking hard

My body shakes so much I can’t stop it, my mind turns off and stars burst in my vision as I just scream from the fucking intensity

My back arches off the couch and I have to close my eyes because I can’t keep them open

And at the same time, Yoongi is urging me on

“Yeah baby, I love you fucking shaking. You’re screams are music to my ears.”

It’s the best fucking orgasm I ever had

Fucking incredible

After it passes my body comes back down to the couch and I relax a little

“Oh no, Joanne, I’m not done with you yet”, Yoongi informs me

What?

I can’t

That last one took too much out of me

“Yoongi, I can’t…”

“Yeah you can. I know you can”

“Yoongi..”

“Shhh baby girl. Just feel and enjoy everything ok?”

I nod

I can’t argue with him

I don’t want to

He spreads my legs wider, holding them open wide

He just slams over and over, the pleasure building again

Then he hits so deep and hits my spot that has me screaming

“There it is. I was looking for that”, he smirks, “Are you ready to cum over and over again Jo? Cuz I’m gonna make you”

I nod

I’m not ready but I want it

He slams the spot over and over, waves of ecstasy crashing over me again and again

“Come on baby, cum for me”

He hits me again in my spot and I lose control of my body and cum all over him again

“Good girl. Again”, he shouts

He hits the spot

Another orgasm

“Who fucks you the best?”, he demands

“You Yoongi”, I cry as another orgasm over takes me

“Who makes you cum over and over?”

“You!”, I shout and I cum again

I can’t control myself

He’s controlling my body

Every time he slams the spot I orgasm automatically

I never felt this much ecstasy in my life

Even though I’m coming within seconds, it feels so so incredible

And I want more

I don’t want him to stop

“Who gave you the best orgasm of your life?”, he yells

“You did Yoongi, fuck, you did!”, I scream, coming again

“Fucking right. Who do you belong to? Your body, your pussy, you? Who?”, he demands

“You Yoongi, You!”, I cry as another orgasm takes my body

Fuck yes

I’ll be his

Yoongi puts my legs around him and he leans over, picking me up and holding me up like Hobi did

Except Yoongi holds me closer to him

“Who does your body listen to baby?”

“You Yoongi!”, I shout

“Good girl. Now cum on me again”, he orders and again my body obeys him

“Yoongi!”, I scream, shaking and holding his arms so tightly while I cum

“Good baby girl. You're such a good girl for me.”, he moans

“Yoongi!”, I whimper

“What baby?”

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, please”

“You want more?”

I nod I lost count of how many times I came just with Yoongi

But I want more

“I’ll give you anything you want, anytime”, he says, giving me another orgasm

“This is fucking insane”, one of the guys says

“How is she coming so much?”

“How has he not cum yet?”

“Fuck, just watch her begging him for more is hot”

“I think you’ve been replaced Namjoon.”

“Shut up”

Yoongi kisses me as orgasm after orgasm roll over me

“You’re fucking kisses are amazing Joanne. I never want to kiss anyone else.”

God what he’s saying is making me feel so good

“My good girl”, he murmurs, holding me close while still moving

After I cum again, he says, “Jo, can I cum now? I can’t take it. The way you feel, the way you pull on me, I can’t last anymore baby girl.”

“Yes Yoongi, cum baby”

He nods, the rams in my spot once more causing one last orgasm before he screams and cums hard

He puts his face in my neck, screaming and crying out loud, while he cums, his orgasm lasting a lot longer than it normally should

He pulls out when he’s done, lays me back down then just lays on top of me, out of breath, his heart racing

“You’re heart’s beating so fast”, he breathes

“Yours too”, I reply

I’m fucking exhausted

I lay back and close my eyes

“Jo…cccc…can I stay here until I can breathe normally again?”

“Yeah Yoongi, it’s ok”

“Thanks”

I hear the guys moving around and talking but I’m so tired

I don’t even realize when I fall asleep

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

My phone buzzes and I pick it up

It’s a text

From Yoongi

“Hey Jo. Can you come to the dorm today to hang?”

“Yeah sure. What time?”

“Uh I’ll text you. We’re at practice now”

“Sure, lemme know”

He sends a thumbs up emoji

It’s been a month since the BTS orgy I participated in

It was really fun

I ended up falling asleep on the couch Yoongi did too, on top of me

None of the guys moved us, they just went back to their rooms

I woke up to Yoongi’s hair in my face

He jumped a mile when I poked him and I laughed

I told him I needed to go home and asked if he could please get up

He blushed and moved off so I could get up

We both got dressed and he let me out

Ever since then everything has been normal between all of us

We all still hang out together

We just don’t have sex and we don’t talk about it

It doesn’t bother me as long as I have them as my friends

Nothing ever happened between me and the member I’m in love with

We just had sex and that was it

He never said anything to me, just continued as we were

I’m disappointed but I can’t make him love me

And I can’t wait around for him

I have to get over it

That’s why I agreed to go on a date with another idol

Namjoon’s friend Jackson from Got 7, asked if I’d possibly agree to go on a date with his group member, Jin- Young

I said yes and the next thing I know, Jin-Young calls me, asking me out

So I agree and we’re going out on Friday

He’s cute but I don’t know him

I have to give him a chance though

I don’t want to be alone all my life pining over someone who’ll never love me

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

“Hi Jo”, Jungkook says as he opens the door to the dorm

“What up Kookie?”

He laughs, “You’re so weird”

“Ha! Look who's talking. So what’s up?”

“Uh nothing”

“Yoongi here? He asked me to come over”, I ask

“Yeah he’s in his room.”

“Rude. I texted him that I’m here. You think he’d come and open the damn door.”

“Are you surprised?”, Jungkook asks with an “are-you-kidding-me” look.

“Not at all”, I smile, “I’ll see you later”

“See ya”

I walk to Yoongi’s room

His door is open and he’s at his desk writing something, his back to me

I see his phone is on his bed

I roll my eyes

He probably didn’t even read the text I sneak up on him and he doesn’t even hear me

I glance over his shoulder real quick to see what he’s writing

Looks like lyrics

About a girl

'Her eyes are beautiful dark pools I love to get lost in'

Damn

He has it bad

Anyway, I decide to scare him

“What are you writing?”, I whisper in his ear

He jumps and shouts, turning around, snapping his notebook closed

I’m laughing so hard, I can’t breathe

He’s glaring at me, breathing heavily

“That’s not fucking funny Joanne.”

“You’re right”, I gasp, “It’s fucking hilarious”

He just keeps glaring and scowling at me until I’ve calmed down

I wipe my eyes carefully, trying not to fuck up my makeup anymore than I already did when tears came out

“Are you done?”

I crack up again

“Joanne! Seriously?”

“Ok, ok, I’m done”, I say holding back a smile

He huffs

“I’m good. I promise”, I say, calmed for now

I flop on his bed and toss him his phone

“I texted you when I was outside you ass. I had to keep ringing the bell until Jungkook opened it”

“Oh sorry. I was busy, I lost track of time”

“Uh-huh, writing love song lyrics?”

“You looked?”, he scowls again

“Relax, I only saw one line about the girls eyes and getting lost or something like that.”

“Don’t read my lyrics.”

“Fucking relax. I didn’t mean to”, I snap

“You know I hate when people read my shit before I finish it.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry ok? I won’t read any of your shit ever again.”

“You shouldn’t have done it now!”, he exclaims

Fuck this

I didn’t come here to be yelled at

I get up, “Fuck off Yoongi. I’m leaving”

I walk past him and out into the hall

“No, Joanne wait! Don’t go”, he says following me

He grabs my arm, stopping me

I turn back to him, giving him a death stare

“I’m sorry ok? I just got embarrassed that you read it ok? I don’t write love songs, I usually leave that to Namjoon. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

I hesitate but he’s apologizing

“Ok fine”, I give in

Relief blooms in his face

“Uh can you come back to my room?”

“Yeah ok”, I say and follow him

Once inside he closes the door

He goes and sits in the computer chair by the desk I go to sit in his bed facing him

“So what do you wanna do?”, I ask

“Uh I wanted to ask you something”

“You dragged me all the way here to ask me something?”

“You live ten minutes away!”

“Still”, I say, “You could of just texted me.”

He rolls his eyes

“I asked you to come hang out but I wanna ask you something first.”, he clarifies

“Oh, ok”

I sit and wait

He looks down at the ground

“Yoongi? Hello?”, I call, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Uh, yeah..”, he trails off

I give him a ‘well?’ look

“Do you..uh….will you…”

“What? Just ask Yoongi, you can ask me anything”

We had crazy sex and he’s been everywhere on my body

He can’t ask a fucking question?

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼

Yoongi POV

She blinks, then asks, “Are you…are you serious?”

I know it’s coming out of nowhere and this isn’t like me at all

And I’m not usually this shy around her

But the truth is I love her

I fell in love with her a long time ago

But I’m not good at this stuff and she makes me nervous

“Yeah I’m serious.”

“Where is this coming from? I didn’t even think you liked me like that”, she asks

‘Because I hid it and I’m scared you don’t want me’, I want to say but don’t

I know she’s confused

I never gave any indication that I like her like that

Even after we woke up naked together, I acted completely normal even though I was incredibly happy

Waking up to her arms around me, holding me was the best thing in the world

And the sex she gave me the night before?

The best sex I ever had in my entire existence

I haven’t said anything this last month because I was getting the courage to tell her

But I had to speed things up or I’d lose her

But I shrug, “I don’t know. I just like you”

I am not telling her I love her

Not yet

“You just like me?”, she repeats, “You don’t even sound sure”

“I am”

She furrows her eyebrows, so confused

“Look if you don’t want to just say it”, I answer

This isn’t going well

She’s not answering me and I’m freaking out

“Hey don’t give me a fucking attitude. You can’t just drop this on me after never saying a fucking thing or even indicating that you felt this way. Especially since you’re shrugging your fucking shoulders and not even sounding like you do really like me”, she snaps

My eyes widen and I look down

She’s right

I need to relax and show her that I want her

“I’m sorry Jo. I’m not good at this stuff. The truth is…”

“What?”

Shit

Why did I say that?

“Yoongi?”, she prompts

Should I tell her?

I just said I wouldn’t but maybe I should just tell her.

Get everything out of the way

She’s not going to let it go anyway until I answer her

I take a breath, “The truth is I love you.”

“You..love..”, she stutters

I nod looking up at her, “Yeah, I love you. I have for a while. I don’t know when it happened or even how. I just started noticing that I’d get jealous when you’d go to Namjoon’s room all the time. I just wanted to be around you, hold your hand, kiss you. I don’t like being touched or do that kind of stuff but I want to with you. I didn’t know what was wrong with me until I figured out I fell in love with you.”

She looks totally caught off guard which is to be expected

“But how can you want me after what I did with you and the guys? I fucked all of your friends! If I’d known you felt like this I wouldn’t have done it!”

“You wouldn’t?”, I ask, looking intently at her

Is she just saying that or does she mean it?

“No!”, she cries

I…I don’t know what to say

Why wouldn’t she?

She’s single, she can do whatever she wants

“But why not?”, I ask

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot! God you’re so stupid and fucking blind.”

Now it’s my turn to look dumbfounded

She loves me?

Is she joking?

“I’m in love with your dumb ass and I wouldn’t have fucked all the guys if I’d known how you felt. I only did it because I got to be with you if I did. I never thought you’d ever look twice my way, with all female idols and female staff members you’re around all the time!”, she yells

Is she insane?

I don’t give a rats ass about idols and female staff members

I’ve seen them and they do nothing for me

She is who I want

“Why would you think that? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! I can’t look at other girls anymore because they can never compare to you. All I do is compare. I just stopped looking because they’re not you”, I tell her

“Www…what?”, her mouth drops open, “You’re not serious?”

My god, she really doesn’t think I’d want her or look at her at all

She’s gorgeous, she’s all I could ever want and more and she has no clue

“You are the most beautiful girl in the world to me”, I repeat

She has to believe that I think that

I won’t let her think otherwise

“I love everything about you. How small you are, how fucking incredibly sexy your body is, you hair, your soft skin, you’re gorgeous smile. And your eyes. Your fucking eyes.”, I confess

Her eyes are fucking beautiful and I could stare into them all day

They’re such a pretty dark brown that shine all the time

I could drown in them every day

But I don’t want to think it’s all about her looks because it’s so not

“And don’t get me started on your personality. Because that could take hours for me to describe.”

It really could

She’s my perfect match

“The song…the thing I read…”, she start

“Is about you”, I admit, “That’s why I freaked out when you read it.”

“What you wrote about my eyes”, she trails off…

I blush hard

I don’t write love songs but once I sat down, all this came out

A whole verse just about her incredible eyes

“It’s true. Your eyes are my favorite thing about you, physically anyway. They’re just fucking gorgeous. They’re big and I love their dark brown color and how they’re always shining. I fucking drown in them everytime you look at me. I can’t hear anything anyone says or think about anything except looking in them. I honestly think I could get lost for hours in them.”, I answer, blushing more

She looks adorable with her mouth hanging open

I might as well keep going

She loves me and I want her to know how much I love her

Maybe we can finally be together

“You’re all I think about, all the time. It’s driving me crazy. I just want you around me all the time. I don’t care about what happened with the guys. It was before us, it doesn’t matter. What matters starts now, with you and me together. To be honest I only did it to be with you too. That was the best night of my life, being with you, making you feel that amazing. It was the best sex of my life because it was with you.”

I really don’t care about it

It happened and nothing can change that

I’m not mad, we weren’t together then

I was glad to be with her

“It’s the same for me Yoongi. It was the best because I was with you. You could of just kissed me the whole night and it would of been the best of my life.”, she admits

“I’m sorry Joanne. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before and I didn’t realize you felt the same.”

“It’s ok Yoongi. But why now? Why didn’t you say anything after we had sex?”

I sigh, “I was trying to work up the balls to tell you. But I was scared. Terrified actually. I still am. But then Namjoon told me that you agreed to go on a date with Jin-Young. I couldn’t lose you to someone else without at least telling you how I feel. That’s why I’m telling you now”

When I found out that she agreed to go on a date with this guy I flipped my shit

There is no way I would lose her without trying

No way

It’s silent for a minute

“Yes”, she says

I look at her confused, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend”, she answers

“You will?”, I ask, hoping she’s not kidding

She nods, “I love you Yoongi”

My face bursts into a smile

She sucks in her breath, whispering,

“Your smile is so beautiful Yoongi. I absolutely love it”

I can’t help but smile more, “I love you Joanne”

She gets off the bed and comes to me, kissing me

I kiss her back, pulling her on my lap

She pulls away and touches my face gently, staring into my eyes

“I love your eyes too Yoongi. They’re so beautiful”

Fuck, I can’t believe she’s saying this to me

That she thinks this about me

I run my fingers through her hair and look at her with love

“You’re mine”, I whisper

She nods, “And you're mine”

“Always”, I answer

I lean in and meet her half way, in a fiery kiss

[daughterofapollo-official]

Leo Valdez Fan theory.

OK, I have two really strong, but really dark head cannons about Leo Valdez.

1) he’s got wrapped up in crimes really really in life

2) he’s anorexic.

First, I want to establish that anorexia isn’t necessarily the need to be as skinny as possible.

Can develop and form at age for multitude of reasons the most popular being: constant needed to lose weight, strong need of control, or self harm/punishment.

I feel like Leo is either need for control or the need for self punishment.

I have a lot of thoughts about this, but in order to do this correctly, I wanted to start with the very first appearance Leo has in the Percy Jackson universe.

His very first line is a response to Jason saying “I don’t belong here.”

Stating “you’re right! We’ve all been framed. I didn’t run away six times and Piper didn’t steel convertible.”

How is running away even comparable to stealing a car?

This makes me believe that Leo did something far worse than just run away either he did something and that’s why he ran away or he ran away to do something.

Or he ran away and did something.

But comparing running away a few times and stealing a car and then giving them the exact same consequence scenes unreasonable to me I think Leo probably did something a lot darker but because this is a kids book it’s not mentioned.

Shortly after being introduced to Leo in the form of this first statement, Jason’s in her monologue goes on to describe Leo as this mischievous, looking boy that the second he looked at him and looked in his eyes. He could tell that he couldn’t trust him with matches and sharp objects.

No one could see this as for shadowing for Leo’s godly parent, being the god of forge and fire.

But I see this as a sign that despite his physique Leo Valdez has this aura of danger.

“crash course for the amnesiac: we go to the wilderness school. Which means we’re bad kids. Your family, or the court, or whoever. Decided you were to much trouble so they sent you off to this lovely prison. Sorry, boarding school.”

The words in the statement from Leo Valdez in chapter 1, give us a valuable clues on the type of environment. Leo Piper and Jason are inside. 

As if the further emphasize the point that these kids have committed crimes, Jason’s inter monologue says that none of these kids look like a “hard criminals” and he wonders what they could have done to be “sentenced to school for delinquents.”

And again, these are actual lines from the book Leo Valdez canonically is classified legally as a delinquent.

And knowing Leo does not have any family it’s clear that Leo received this as a sentence from a courtroom.

As he himself stated, as we just saw you can be sent to this place not just by parents who think you need a strict or lifestyle, but by the court.

“ he had survived and tough neighborhoods, tough schools, touch foster homes, by using his wits, he was the class clown, the court jester. Because he learned early that if you crack jokes and pretend not to be scared you usually didn’t get beat up. Even the baddest, gangster kids will tolerate you. Keep you around for laughs.”

This quote from the novel also is a clear clue that Leo a dark skinned kid in the United States, grew up, hanging out with delinquents hanging out with kids that were in gangs he literally said gangsters.

Which means he probably got into school fight, street fights, and substance use.

Because that’s what teenagers do in those social groups.

Crimes canonically mentioned that Leo committed:

• truancy; this is when so, and skip school so much that it becomes legal issue.

Ask yourself in United States, with xenophobia and racism, if a Latino 11 to 14 year old boy, who doesn’t have parental supervision is skipping school. What do you think he’s doing?

It’s only mentioned that he committed truancy, which isn’t it hard crime but knowing reality, it’s very probable that Leo has experimented within this timeframe within running away and being arrested for truancy he also committed underage use of substances.

So let’s take a break from the crime dive. Because I’m pretty sure for the rest of Leo’s appearances in the universe it’s not hinted out or mentioned anymore. I think that’s all I have to say, but I might revisit this later.

This is the first inkling of anorexia:

As I mentioned in the beginning of this post anorexia can manifest at any point of someone’s life for a multitude of reasons.

It is usually during development either late childhood to any point in adolescence.

Although it can form adulthood, it’s more common for it to start in developmental stages.

Anorexia is a cycle and for whatever reason you start starving yourself this little bit and then you lose your appetite and your stomach shrinks and you feel less hunger so you eat less and then you struggle to eat a healthy amount.

You may be thinking there’s no way Leo is anorexic because he is self-conscious of how skinny he is.

True.

But I don’t think him himself because he wants to be skinny. I think he does it for one of two reasons and maybe it’s a mix of both maybe they’re both correct or maybe it’s just just one I don’t know.

1- control.

2- punishment.

In chapter 5, we have a chapter from the point of view of Leos for the very first time, and this is when we first learned about how Leo’s mom died he died tragically in the housefire that he started, and even as a 15 year-old, he blames himself, and he sees himself as the person responsible for his mother’s death.

His mother died when he was eight years old obvious this is going to have severe psychological trauma on him, I believe that Leo stopped eating.

Maybe at first he just didn’t wanna eat anything because he was in grief and he couldn’t eat, maybe it was because he didn’t eat his mom didn’t cook Mexican culture love cooking and he just lost the person. He loved the most in life and he couldn’t imagine eating.

But I think he stopped eating as a way to punish himself for killing his mother, and then it spiraled and snowball and got out of control to the point where he’s severely underweight as a fifteen year old.

As for control, we know that he didn’t have control over where he lived, or who took care of him or what school he went too.

His life was flipped upside down as it went into the foster system and he felt powerless. He felt like he had no control and one way of his for dealing with that was running away, but I also feel like he just wouldn’t eat because if maybe if he could control his weight and he can control what he eats then at least he had control over one thing in his life. He didn’t have control over anything else, but at least he had control over what he ate and then that’s snow bolt into the point he got underweight as a teenager.

It’s one of these reasons or a mix of both of these reasons.

I think Leo is somewhat muscular.

He’s always lift up heavy pieces of metal he uses hammers. He knows how to forage. This requires a lot of muscle mass in the arm and abdomen at least but I feel like the reason he gives the scrawny description is because he doesn’t eat enough.

Even at the end of the war with the Giants, eat enough and he was just like oh he doesn’t work out then he would have a lot more muscle mass and he would not be seen as scrawny as we seen with Percy was seen as little kid in the beginning and now he’s very physically muscular because of the war he went through, but that didn’t happen with Leo because I think he’s already muscular. He just never eats therefore he’s not healthy looking.

Chapter 30, Yet another example of Leo allowing himself to be put at the risk of death without hesitation.

Man for Jason to take Piper and fly away from Festus as the dragon Falls, Leo would stay on his dragon and try to fix it. Then he said he couldn’t fix it he would die.

The first time I read this I didn’t think much of it didn’t even remember this thing happened because it seems like just natural reaction to trying to save the ship sacrifice yourself, knowing how the giant war ends and he did kill himself. I think it’s a reasonable assumption that just does not have enough regards for personal safety and probably not taking care of himself.

During the lost hero indicated that part of the reason how Piper Leo invasion survive the quest was that whenever they were hungry, Leo would cook for them.

But did anyone other than me notice that hyper had to ask for Leo to cook every single single time because he never remembered he was never hungry and he would only eat if they were hungry if they told him they were hungry and asked him to cook.

I didn’t find the scene again because I was only reading chapters in Leo’s point of view, but I think it’s in Pipers and this for me the first time I read it was like the first indication that Leo doesn’t have a healthy relationship with food.

Mark of Athena.

The very first time Leo met Hazel first thing he noticed was that she paid a lot of attention to him. And he didn’t like it you can argue that this is because he was so used to not be center of attention, but we all know that Leo craves attention so that wouldn’t make sense. He says that the reason he feels uncomfortable is that she was staring at him through looking at his body, and it made him feel self-conscious.

House of Hades

“ you haven’t eaten in a few days.” Calypso told Leo. And Leo didn’t even notice.

Wikipedia Page.

I read the entire page. Yes. The whole thing.

I never do that.

But I wanted to see if there was any other extra evidence for my theory.

In the early life section there’s a paragraph about the day of the dead, where Leo’s aunt and his cousin who would bully him went to the cemetery. To clean their relatives graves and bring offerings.

I found this quote “Rosa would force him to stay for the picnic, as if eating with dead people would fix his appetite.”

So his family was aware he wasn’t eating.

“Leo woke up in an ambulance, and the paramedic was kind to him, saying that the warehouse had burned down and his mom hadn't made it out. Leo felt hollow, and realized he had lost control like his mom had warned him about.“

This supports my theory that Leo feels a lack of control in his life, which is why he’d result to controlling his food intake.

“He thought her death was his fault” this quote supports my second theory of what triggered his anorexia. Self punishment. In his very core. He believes he was responsible for the person he loved most in life being dead.

“The police wondered what kind of child would've started a fire. His neighbors in the apartment complex gossiped about him, saying they always knew something was wrong with him.” So already at 8 years old he called the attention of the cops and his community as dangerous. And once you’re labeled as dangerous, and dark skinned… there’s only a matter of time until you do and up being caught in the wrong groups.

Something we know from the books, at Leo’s mention of gangs and a school for delinquents… he did exactly that.

“He even had an abusive foster mom, Teresa.” Another common trigger for eating disordered behavior, abusive parental figures. Usually parental figures can say very nasty comments about the child’s body psychologically parents tend to reflect their insecurities and their life and their body onto the bodies of their children. This is very common with biological kids, but I assume it could be possible for a foster child as well.

Your abusive foster parent also means he probably had a strong distrust between him and the foster mom.

Meaning, if he was caught up in a gang while living with her, you would not tell her he could not confide in her.

Having an Abusive mother figure, hold onto the money issues he had from his mother dying. This strongly explains why he stayed in a relationship with fucking calypso!!!

That woman treated him like every second of the relationship and he was fine with it because she was an older woman, and he was treated like shit by women.

Side tangent that does not have to do with anorexia or his crime history.

Did anyone else notice how every single girl Leo’s tempo was much older than him in the entire books series?

• Hazel

• the ice goddess

• calypso

• Thalia

Two out of four of those were mean to him!! Yes mommy issues really bad mommy issues that turned into a mommy kink. He even calls Calypso Mamacita!!!

And he will stay in an abusive relationship as long as he has an older woman who he is as attractive and more dominant

Another paragraph I found was full of little nuggets I found:

“Maenads from Demigod Diaries, indicating that Leo is quite good-looking despite not finding himself attractive” so just further proof that Leo is a pretty boy but has dysmorphia and low self esteem. “Leo has been called 'cute in a scrawny way' by nymphs”

“a diminutive stature with a slim and relatively scrawny build.” Of course we all remember Leo is skinny, hell that’s what this whole theory is about. But I want to point out the word Relatively. Which reminds me of my assumption that since Leo works with heavy metal he has muscle definition but not enough body fat, making him skinny.

“Leo wears a pair of Georgina's overalls during her absence, so they are probably around the same size.”

Oh that probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to you— GEORGINA IS AN EIGHT YEAF OLD LITTLE GIRL AND HE IS A SIXTEEN YEAF OLD BOY!!!!

They should not be the same size!!!!

“He is said to be sensitive about his size and occasionally makes self-deprecating jokes about it.” Dysmorphia, I’ve been telling you guys over and over! He has dysmorphia.

“Superhuman Strength : Being a demigod, Leo is stronger than a regular mortal. However, Leo has many times labeled himself as weak because of his small stature, and is definitely the weakest male demigod of the Seven, indicating that Leo is pretty weak for a demigod. Leo also is extremely skinny and short and doesn't look very strong. However, Leo has been shown to be quite a bit stronger than he looks as he used two silver-tipped blacksmith hammers to smash full-grown monsters that got in his way”

So even though logic would suggest the opposite Leo always thinks of himself, of his body negatively.

There’s so many other examples but I’m tired.

[eri-pl]

@edennill I just had an… well, not epiphany because it's not theological, but an insight or something. Tagging, you, because a) it may be interesting b) you often wonder (in frustration, I think) why do people make so much fanart of the bad guys. (Tagiing you doesn't mean the later rhetorical "you" is you. It's a different you. Huh. Maybe we should start using "thee", it would make things easier.

Why do we deny canon characteristics of characters?

(long post below cut, no triggers, kind of fandom discourse-related but tries to empathise with both sides?)

(It's rhetorical "we", I am trying to not do it. But I'm 40 and got many things sorted out. Probably still do it anyway, esp around kidnap fam)

Imagine: you suffer. You read about a character that suffers in the exact same way, or at least a way that rings a bell in your heart.

This is you.

So you love them, you try to defend them, they didn't deserve it — you didn't deserve it — extept it turns out they kind of did deserve it. And all the unsaid accusations you felt from people — well turns out for the character they're true. So are they true about you?

Of course it would be most natural to unlink yourself from the character, but that's not how human brain works. also, unlinking it would be very painful and take a lot of time and effort (and still may not work) and often feels like betraying yourself.

So you fight. For your dignity.

So you fight against people correcting you with things that are actually in the book.

…I legit think it's how it works usually. (Of course, echo chambers and unwillingness to factcheck are a thing too, depends on the person probably.)

So when we engage with someone speaking about their beloved character and it's OoC — there are, at least partially, speaking of a part of themselves. And, while it's technically true, telling someone "a part of you commited [insert a Silm-typical deed here] is very painful.

(Aaaand now the rhetorical "you" is again my friend Edennill, because I can't into rhetorics…) When you engage with someone hyping about Sauron, there are two three Saurons in the conversation: yours (obvious. the Númenor stuff and all other stuff), canon (very similar, maybe with more focus on other evil stuff and not Númenor on top position, idk, anyway close), and theirs (a child who wwas told too many times that they are unforgiveable, or something like that + also has flaming hair and cool ring).

What to do with it? I have no idea what to do with it, except the obvious.

I'm looking for ideas.

And yes, people do project on the good characters too, and criticizing those characters hurts in the same way, only it's also factually false (usually, because not all characters are black and white). I know. I don't mean to say that the "good guys" are ok to criticize and the "bad guys" not, or that book canon should be not spoken about.

Maybe the answer is just "don't hate characters to their fans"? (Facts and hate aren't the same, but with facts, there's still a need for compassion and getting a feel when to say what)

Truth is an important thing. Yes. Truth about what's in a book…. still it is a thing worth saying. Especially when the book is as good (even with it's problems and kitchen sinks) as Silm is. But as I said, empathy or something is needed?

IDK, I'm still figuring it out.

I think I've kind of know this for a long time, half-consciously, but today I had a moment when something clicked and things started making much more sense. Like: why people do have takes that are so far from canon and still call the character the same character. It does make sense in the contaxt...

(Also, no: I'm not like that with Melkor, I'm much more aware of my stuff and of what's canon and what not and I can switch between perspectives… But as I said, I'm old. It comes with some amount of wisdom. Funnily I can deal much better with people hating him than hating Maglor. But I can deal with people hating Maglor (filtering too counts as "deal with" ;D) and I can admit all the stuff he did in the book and that he's a coward, and all that (relateable). I just feel sad when people say he deserves all the worst.)

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[camellia-thea]

i'm still thinking about the conversation i witnessed last night :/

[ikeuverse]

I HATE YOU — l.heeseung

PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+

WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).

SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.

NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!

masterlist

The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.

As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.

It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.

There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.

He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.

So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.

Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.

War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.

Not this last time.

The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.

You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.

But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.

The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.

That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.

You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?

An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.

“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.

“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.

“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”

As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.

“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.

“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.

The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.

Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.

Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.

“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”

“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.

“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.

Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.

Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.

Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?

“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”

Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.

Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.

And you were more than right.

After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.

“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.

“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.

“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.

“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.

Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.

“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.

“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”

Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.

“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.

Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.

He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.

Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.

The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.

“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”

“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.

“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.

He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.

“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.

“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.

“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.

“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.

Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.

“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”

“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.

“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.

A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.

At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?

“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.

“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.

“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.

You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.

“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”

“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”

“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”

“Yes, you did” he said.

“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.

He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.

“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”

“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.

“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.

As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.

It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.

He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.

“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”

“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.

“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.

“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”

“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.

It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.

As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.

Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.

That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.

At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.

“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”

“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.

Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.

Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.

“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”

Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.

“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”

There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.

A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.

"Y/n" he said.

“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”

I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.

“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.

“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.

“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.

“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.

A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.

“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.

“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.

You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.

“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.

He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.

If she laughed, it was because she agreed.

Does he really have a small dick?

Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.

He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.

Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.

Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.

“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.

Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.

“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”

“I need to talk to you” he said.

“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.

“Heeseung.”

“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.

Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.

He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.

“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.

“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.

“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”

“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.

“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.

You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.

Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.

“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”

Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.

“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.

You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.

The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.

When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.

At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.

“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.

“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.

“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.

You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.

“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.

“Yeah” you answered.

“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.

“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.

Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.

Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.

He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.

Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.

“We can—”

“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”

It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.

Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.

Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.

“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.

“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.

“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.

“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.

“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.

As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.

Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.

As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.

“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.

Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.

He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.

Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.

“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.

It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.

Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.

You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.

“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”

You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.

Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.

He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?

With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.

“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.

Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.

It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.

“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.

In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.

Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.

You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.

But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.

To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.

“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”

He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.

“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.

The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.

He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.

Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.

“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.

That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.

For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.

“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.

“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.

But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.

“So you…”

“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.

“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”

“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.

“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”

It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.

“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.

Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.

And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[hoshigray]

Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb �� and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭

Love your works 🥰

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”

“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”

Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 

He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 

You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 

In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.

However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.

Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 

Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 

It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 

The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 

Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.

In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.

“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”

He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 

“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”

“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.

It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”

“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”

A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 

You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 

“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 

“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”

“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 

“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”

A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”

He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”

And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 

“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”

“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”

Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.

Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.

Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”

His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 

“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.

“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 

Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”

He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 

However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”

You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 

“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 

“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”

“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.

“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”

Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.

It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”

“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 

As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 

“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.

“Now smile for me.”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.

[bravevolunteer]

c-ptsd is the driving factor behind a lot of michael's mental health and issues but i want to make a point of the beginning threads of this starting before the bite of 83, too

[yeosanitycheck]

boyfriend!ateez reaction to you receiving a love letter from someone else

☾pairing: bf!ateez x reader

☾warnings!: suggestive dialogue, mature themes, jealousy

☾a/n: enjoy ;), always open to requests etc.

Hongjoong🌶️ 

Hongjoong finds out that you have received a love letter, and his initial reaction is cool and collected. He doesn’t see the point in getting upset right away, but he is curious.  

“So, are you going to tell me what’s in the letter?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s confident in your relationship, so he’s not worried about you leaving him, but he definitely wants to read the letter to see what the other person has to say.  

You let him skim through the letter willingly, and he laughs at it.  

“I mean, points for effort…but this is rookie-level literature.”  

He glances up at you with a smirk.  

“Babe, if this is what I’m up against, I’m not worried.”  

He then crumples up the paper with a playful grin.  

“Think I’ll send them a response and give some pointers—for educational purposes, of course!”

---

Seonghwa🧚

Seonghwa would feel a little unsettled but not overly jealous. When he finds out about the love letter, his first reaction is to ask you how you feel about it.  

“You got a love letter? How do you feel about that?”  

He trusts you, but a part of him feels protective. He suggests ignoring the letter if you don’t reciprocate the feelings. With a soft reassuring smile, he adds,  

“It’s nice to know others see how amazing you are…”  

He leans in closer, whispering in your ear,  

“…but remember, I love you the most.”  

He wraps his arms around you in a comforting hug, his voice dropping to a whisper.  

“Though…if they try to send another letter, I might have to let them know the position is already filled.”

---

Yunho☂️

Yunho’s reaction is more lighthearted, even if he feels a bit jealous. Upon hearing you got a love letter, he immediately starts teasing you.  

“A love letter? Wow, I thought I was the only one with great taste!”  

He pretends to be hurt in an exaggerated tone to make you laugh.  

“Looks like I’ll need to step up my game before you run off with your secret admirer.”  

He suddenly turns serious with a fake gasp.  

“Wait…do I need to send myself a love letter just to compete?”  

Yunho begins to pace the room, clearly adding to his show.  

“Dear Yunho, you’re amazing, and no one can compare to you. Love, Yunho. P.S. Please never leave me for some random admirer.”  

He laughs at his own joke and finally wraps you in his arms.  

“Just kidding—you’re stuck with me.”

---

Yeosang🪽 

Yeosang wouldn’t show much outward jealousy, but he’d be quietly bothered by the love letter. He knows you wouldn’t stray, but he feels the need to address it.  

He leans back on the couch after hearing about the letter, his expression calm but thoughtful.  

“You got a love letter, huh?”  

“Well, I can’t blame them for having good taste.”  

He shifts closer to you on the couch, placing his hand lightly on your back.  

“But I hope they know that you’re not available.”  

His tone is still calm, but there’s a subtle protectiveness in his words. He looks into your eyes, his gaze steady.  

“If they try anything else, I might have to write them a little letter of my own…letting them know exactly how things are.”  

He gives you a small smile and gently squeezes your hand.  

“I’m not worried, though. I know you’re mine.”  

Then a playful glint flickers in his eyes.  

“And if they don’t know, they’ll find out soon enough.”

---

San🗻

San feels protective upon learning about the love letter. He wraps his arms around you immediately, half-joking, half-serious.  

“A love letter? Really? Guess I need to up my game. Should I write a letter every day? Or maybe serenade you outside your window at 3 a.m.?”  

He grins and plants a playful kiss on your cheek.  

“Though, I gotta say, no letter’s gonna beat the real thing.”  

San’s voice is full of playful energy, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind it. He holds you closely, giving you a soft smile.  

“Maybe I should send them a picture of us together—but at the end of the day, I know who your heart belongs to, and it’s staying right here with me.”

---

Mingi🩰 

Mingi is dramatically over the top upon finding out about the love letter. He falls back onto the couch as if the news has knocked the wind out of him.  

“A love letter? To you? I’ve been replaced, haven’t I!?” he groans, covering his face with his hands.  

He peeks through his fingers, faking an exaggerated pout.  

“Am I not good enough? Should I start writing poetry and serenading you in public?”  

He laughs and pulls you into a playful hug but suddenly pulls away, looking at you with mock suspicion.  

“Wait…was it a really good letter? Should I be worried?”  

Before you can answer, Mingi gasps.  

“No! Don’t tell me! I can’t take the heartbreak!”  

Finally, Mingi breaks into a wide grin, pulling you close again and resting his head on your shoulder.  

“I’m just kidding. If they’re trying to win you over with sweet nothings, they should know I’m the one who gets to whisper all the naughty things in your ear.”

---

Wooyoung👹

Wooyoung’s reaction is all about playful possessiveness.  

“A love letter? Seriously? Well, someone clearly doesn’t know how out of their league you are,” he says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.  

He wraps an arm around your waist.  

“Do I need to start leaving notes in your lunchbox or maybe hide them in your coat pocket? Just to remind you who the real romantic is here.”  

Wooyoung tilts his head, thinking for a moment, then flashes a mischievous grin.  

“Actually, maybe I should send them a thank-you note—‘Thanks for helping me realize I need to step up my game. But don’t worry, I’ve got this.’”  

He winks and pulls you closer.  

“But seriously, babe…they don’t stand a chance.”  

Then he leans in to whisper,  

“Maybe we should write them back together…just to give them an idea of how happy we are.”  

Wooyoung laughs and gives you a kiss afterward.

---

Jongho🧸

Jongho would be quietly protective. He wouldn’t say much at first, just nodding when you first tell him about the letter.  

His voice is gentle but firm.  

“I see. You got a love letter… How do you feel about it?”  

He’s confident in your relationship but wants to ensure you’re comfortable with how you handle it. He reaches out to hold your hand, giving a reassuring squeeze.  

“I’m not worried, but I just want to make sure you’re okay with all of this.”  

With a small gummy smile, he leans closer.  

“But they should know…actions speak louder than words, and I don’t need a letter to show how much I care.”  

His tone softens as he gets up to go to the desk with pen and paper.  

“I’m going to write a reply, actually: ‘Thanks for the attempt. But no.’ they need to know you’re already with someone who’s a bit more…hands-on.”

After writing his reply, he lets out a quiet laugh as he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.  

“But honestly, I’m not worried—I need to see the return address on that silly letter, though.”  

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

the reader changing the subject the instant she feels seen by minho is such a subtle but valuable hint that i think says a lot abt the type of person she is, that moment really stood out to me! i know i literally just said this but right down to every minute detail, you've characterized both lino and the reader so masterfully it has to be the most enjoyable aspect of this story for me...and on top of that i just love how you write their conversations so much, they’re both such lil nerds…my intellectually stimulating smarties debating w each other even now 🥰 it all feels so comfortable and natural and draws me into their relationship w such ease!

their discussion abt colors is hands down one of my favorite scenes in all of invisible thread!! it's such an oddly heartwarming conversation and that perfect, out-of-the-box way of thinking that’s just so undeniably minho...it almost reminds me of synesthesia how he describes feelings through color! "the very essence of our humanity" "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean" the way you embodied each colors through emotions/experiences was so wonderfully done, i understood each one instantly like it was a picture being visualized before my eyes. it makes it even more touching that minho and the reader come to understand each other on a whole new level through that way of communicating their moods <3 and for some reason when he gives the example "i feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to" that really tugged at my heartstrings ㅠ it almost feels like he isnt just giving a hypothetical there, like he's giving a small glimpse into his true feelings without saying it outright. maybe he feels invisible deep down, too

them falling asleep together on facetime was so soft and tender ㅠㅠ leave it to lino to ramble abt sous-vide as a bedtime story and complain abt getting SCAMMED lmao the way that is actually smth he would say 😭 "he closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on" this line got me so good ): it seems at first that he's bringing the reader peace but she's bringing him peace in her own way as well...her feelings abt his eyes changing from fear to longing is such a lovely detail and HER COMPLIMENTING THEM!!! HIS STUNNED REACTION </3 "this is the first genuine compliment he's ever received" oh my god does my moss green theory actually have any merit.....does he really feel invisible to the world too...do not do this to me sahar ㅠㅠ but the way he thinks such lovely, adoring things abt the reader in that moment but instead of voicing them he whines abt being hungry....so endearing and so HIM i cant get enough of how youve written minho here ur singlehandedly reminding me why he is allegedly the love of my life

the kintsugi mention made my heart leap in my chest!!! "when you look at that vase, you know it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty" please...that sentence in itself is so moving when you apply it to the context of what the reader has been through her whole life, not just a single crack but repeated breakages. and for it to come from someone like minho; it feels like exactly what the reader needs to hear to truly begin to heal herself...he doesn't coddle her but is still so gentle, putting things into perspective like nobody else can w his unique worldview and mental strength ㅠㅠ and i think i just lost my mind realizing that this scene loops right back to the clay comparison you drew at the beginning of the story oh my GOD....the reader is like a clay pot molded by her mother, broken in places and repaired over and over to create smth still damaged but just as valuable...and lino is the gold filling in the cracks....sahar you are INSANE for this one im kissing ur brain and tucking it gently into bed

the scene w minho in the rain 😞 i was not prepared to see my meow meow upset...but i love the way you wrote it so much. how oddly quiet he is, even to the point where he's not commenting in class or teasing her, and that's the key detail that lets the reader know smth's off w him...i also love that nothing in particular caused his low mood. it's such a human quality, and he allows himself to be human and feel his feelings until they pass. "he knew his emotions would regulate themselves" i cant explain why this line stood out to me so much i really love it, i think it's just such a shining example of minho's mindset...not necessarily optimistic, but practical enough to not be completely swamped by the darkness either. it creates such an interesting contrast to the reader's personality to see how they both handle their emotions, w her pushing hers away and him letting them run their course. but the fact that he typically tries to retreat into himself until he feels better, yet strangely enough, he doesn't mind it as much as he'd expect when the reader catches him in a vulnerable state...my babies ㅠ i also really loved the part where he uses her shower and thinks abt the scent of her soap as he washes up, it's so so sweet n intimate i'm such a sucker for things like that ): there are so many small things minho notices abt her like it's the most natural thing in the world, they're both so attentive of one another

"you were both just trying to make it through the day" and "he knew he wasn't invisible. at least not to you" were critical hits to my heart...it feels like a breakthrough in their relationship—the first time the reader truly truly sees minho, all sides of him, and she accepts them all without question <3

the gradual progression of their friendship is so gratifying to read bc of how organically you made it all flow together!! i adore the entire sequence that shows us how they start to care for each other more and more…the casual intimacy of the reader applying her lip tint to his lips (and him not studying for his quiz on purpose 😭💗 come ON) lino worrying abt her eating enough, the reader tying his bangs out of his eyes, complimenting him so matter-of-factly, and him BLUSHING ALL OVER THE PLACE it’s so over for me x2 they are so tender in their actions even when they tease each other nonstop. it all leads up so perfectly to the point in the story where minho finds himself being drawn to her apartment without even realizing it when he doesn't feel well. the subtle shift from him initially trying to shut her out bc he's so used to managing his bad days on his own, to him eventually leaning in to her kindness and seeking her company instead...and the way she just understands what he needs immediately, allows him to sit in silence and simply exist in peace next to her. describing his mood as "too much of every color" really struck a chord w me as well...i'm just so so in love w the running theme of colors you included throughout this story, it's such a brilliant way to put emotions into words <3

the lil parallels here n there from the beginning of their relationship until now are so cute as well; how lino makes breakfast for her the first time and leaves before she wakes up, but this time, he promises to stay and eat with her...to not be invisible ㅠㅠ i think what's making me craziest of all is how they're both so hyperaware of each other's touch. like when their shoulders brushed while sharing the reader's umbrella, how the reader suddenly finds it difficult to concentrate on her book when lino holds her wrist as she shields him from the sunlight...and little does she know it's the exact same for him too, like when she rested her head on his thigh and all he could focus on was the sensation of her hair tickling him 😭 they are so enamored w each other and have become so tangled up in each other little by little...they don't even fully realize it yet but they've made a permanent place in each other's lives now

"you were already on the other side, you realize. his eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey" oh my GOD!!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠ her feelings abt minho's eyes changing from fear, to longing, to at last the comfort of getting to see the other side of those black holes...this line hit me like a truck it might be my favorite from the entire fic ㅠ i have a feeling i'll be saying that abt many more lines to come when you verbalize things in the most poetic ways imaginable heheh but this one truly got me so good, the delicacy in which you describe minho makes the reader's growing affection for him all the more heart-fluttering~

minho hesitating to wipe her tears )): the way he's so careful abt touching her in any unwarranted way bc he can sense that she shies away from skinship is so devastatingly sweet...and then him pinching her right after to make her stop crying NEVERMIND I CANT STAND HIM ACTUALLY. but the way he consoles her is so endearing and so so minho...very simple and sincere, he knows her well enough to immediately figure out the best way to take her mind off of the issue instead of dwelling on it. "you didn't care what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it" i've already pointed out so many lines oh my god i'm so sorry but each one is like another arrow through my heart ㅠㅠ i feel like this sentence is such a perfect testament to the reader and lino's relationship; they've both seen each other at their best and worst and it doesn't change anything abt their feelings, they care for each other unconditionally 😞 also the reader being afraid of physical touch bc she craves it is SO heartbreaking but so raw...i think it aligns so well w her past bc she's so used to either being invisible, or only being perceived negatively when she is perceived. it makes perfect sense how terrifying she'd find it to bare herself to minho when her whole life she's been deprived of genuine affection...you've really done such a phenomenal job of characterizing both her and lino i cant say it enough!

now...the entire final scene...where do i even begin...i had a feeling the climax of the story was going to hurt but not like this ㅠㅠ the reader's inner turmoil as she debates reaching out to her mother again, that conflicting mix of hating her yet somehow still missing her...it's such an inexplicable and confusing feeling for ppl who have experienced that kind of neglect but so so real and you captured it so candidly. it really added a whole new layer to the reader's humanity, for her to be unable to completely let go of their relationship no matter how painful it is to hold on to...for her to cling to the hope that maybe she could be worth smth to her mother if she did everything right ): i genuinely had the exact same reaction as her when you revealed that her mother had deleted her phone number...it felt precisely like a bucket of ice cold water to the head. the reader trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where her mother stopped loving her was what really crushed me most...what a heart-wrenching sentence ㅠㅠ the fact that she's tried to hard to find solace in other places and people and tried to grow into her own person after entering university, but even so, those marks left from her childhood are still there...a vase full of cracks 💔 as much as it hurts to read, i love that you included this bump in the road of her healing journey and made a point to highlight that healing isn't linear

and minho 😭😭😭😭😭 the way he handled the reader's outburst is so touching...the way he's immediately able to recognize that her feelings are misplaced and smth much deeper is going on beyond what he sees on the surface...using that astuteness to put his own feelings to the side in the moment is so minho. this entire scene is just blossoming with powerful lines i can't forget, but i was especially affected by the reader saying "i'd need you and i can't afford to need someone else." it's such a tragic summarization of her in my opinion...how she went her whole life being unable to rely on anyone but herself, so the moment she's faced w minho, all her instincts say to reject it no matter how badly she craves that intimacy ㅠㅠ and lino saying "i'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me" is such a beautiful declaration of love...it's so selfless and unconditional, and it fits so seamlessly w how their relationship progressed throughout the story, how they were by each other's sides at their best and worst moments.

"the world doesn't stop because we need it to" "we'll make it stop" and then describing their kiss as like "seeing color for the first time"...i'm going to melt into an inconsolable puddle over all these callbacks to their first date together don't think i didn't catch the ways you weaved those in throughout this final scene..you made it feel so complete, like things have come full circle. i already mentioned how much i loved their conversation abt describing colors to the blind, so for their first kiss to be written that way, like the reader was blind to the true color of the world until she met minho....i am going to be ill that is so intensely romantic sahar ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

"he was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together." another heartaching line ): what a way to personify the quiet love minho provides...it may be invisible to everyone else, but not to her

i'm so sorry for my horrifically long comment haha but i'm just thrilled i was finally able to read this beautiful fic 😞 just as i'd predicted, you're a phenomenal writer!! the amount of love and effort you poured into it went above and beyond, i hope you're so proud of yourself for creating such a stunning work!! it's very clear to me how every interaction you wrote between minho and the reader was so carefully thought out and so meaningful to the overarching theme of the story, it's all done with care and purpose and there's smth special to be found in each line of dialogue! it's like you carefully stacked more and more on to the foundation of their bond until before we know it, there's an entire home there that they built steadily together. that kind of subtle progression is my absolute favorite thing. i'm also so blown away by how the reader's mother, though never actually making an appearance until the final scene, has such an heavy impact over the narrative. it's like she's a ghost haunting the reader's every action, every decision, every inner thought...i find it so impressive how you were able to incorporate that effect into the story without us even needing to meet the mother! and i must've mentioned countless lines that stuck w me throughout the fic, but just know that there are countless more i could've pointed out as well...you truly write so so beautifully. so poetic and emotive, but also not so flowery that it becomes hard to follow, i'm truly floored by your ability to achieve that perfect balance! on top of the story being so immersive in itself, your writing style made invisible thread such a genuine delight to read <3

this feels like the kind of story i'll be thinking abt for a long time after finishing it, the kind to revisit over n over bc i'm sure there are so many lil easter eggs you included that i may have missed! i'm positive i'll come back to it many times in the future hehe...but i can't wait to read more of your writing as well! ^_^

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[luveline]

I love bombshell!reader omg they’re so cutie. Im in an angst mood so imagine reader finally being hit emotionally hard on a case and asking spencer to stay with her in the hotel?? The rest of the team tries so hard to help but only Spencer can help her omg 🥹

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Morgan has an arm around you. It's the first thing Spencer notices, and he thinks, Thank fuck. Thank fuck someone's holding you together. And then he thinks, Maybe I should be that someone. 

He's never seen you shaking that hard. Your usual easy air, not unlike Penelope's, has shrunk to nought. There's no flirty smile sent his way as he approaches, no dramatic throw of Moran's arm. I'd never cheat on my baby, you'd say, though you and Spencer aren't really dating. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

Spencer feels powerless in the face of your despair. You're obviously not fine. Kids always hit you the worst, and so many? Your reaction is warranted if uncharacteristic. 

You don't answer him. Morgan squeezes your arm and stands with a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll leave you in the best hands," he says in way of farewell. 

Spencer sits in the space Morgan vacates, hand behind your shoulder, his fingers curling between your side and your upper arm. You've had blood wiped out of your eyes haphazard, crusting of crimson on your lashes like a morbid mascara. He feels like crying for you. 

"Hey," he says, giving your back a slow, heavy handed rub, "Sorry I wasn't here." 

"That's okay." Your voice is all shudders like a trapped moth. "I'm okay." 

He steers your face to his with a cautious hand to look at you properly. With want of a better method, he takes your untouched water bottle and holds it to his sleeve, pulling it over his fingers while the fabric is still saturated to wipe away the missed blood.

You follow his touch, eyes closing with a quick, pained sigh. Like he's pricked you with a knifepoint.

"I know you think you have to be perfect," Spencer says, sleeve turning a dirty orange, "but this is enough to affect anybody." 

"I am perfect," you say quietly. It falls flat. 

Spencer cups both sides of your face. Your eyes flutter open at the feeling. "You're perfect. And a perfect person would handle this badly." 

His hands look rigid compared to the soft slopes of your cheeks, but they're gentle. 

Tears like silver line your eyes. You wear grief like everything else until suddenly you don't, a crack, a sniffle and you're turning your face into one of his hands desperately. Spencer knows what you need before you're moving, pulling you into his chest with a hand braced behind your neck. 

"It's okay," he says, hoping that if he says it with enough conviction it'll be true. "It's not your fault. There was nothing else we could do."

You shake your head from side to side against his shoulder. "I should've been quicker. I knew what was going to happen, I knew. And I couldn't do anything about it, I couldn't–" Your sob is pulled from you on a hook, hard and sudden enough to end in a wheeze.

Spencer doesn't know what else to do but hug you and hope it calms you down. He's not used to being the most composed of the two of you, a disconnect between the salacious woman who hounds him relentlessly and the one who's falling apart in the circle of his arms. 

You shake. Spencer rubs your back, shielding you from the cold weather until Hotch shouts for the BAU to fall in and get ready to leave. 

"Will you stay with me?" you ask, pulling away from his chest reluctantly. "I don't want to be alone. The hotel's too…" 

Spencer frowns, eyes closed, his face crushed to the side of your head. "Of course I will." 

He knows what you were going to say. It's too quiet after all of tonight's noise. And alone, blaming yourself, he knows you'll scare yourself. Tear yourself to pieces. So Spencer sticks to you like glue from the SUV to the hotel to the jet the next morning. He'd do anything you asked him to do no matter how hard. 

When you're ready, you'll fall back into your flirtatious routines. For now, Spencer takes your twitching hands under the table and holds them.

[cammys-imagines24]

°•NSFW Abby Headcanons•°

Abby likes when you yank on her braid. Either to pull her down to your height for a kiss or when she's eating you out, how you tug on her hair as if it were a horses reins, guiding her to exactly where you need her.

Size kink. This woman gets off on the fact that she's so much bigger than you. How, if she wanted to have her way with you, there's absolutely nothing you could do to fight her off.

Her whole body was practically made to dominate you and make you suffer (in a good way.) From her big, calloused hands, to her meaty thighs, her thick, buff arms and substantial height.

Just the thought of her being able to easily maneuver your body and use you in anyway she pleases gets her so, so wet.

How she could deny you your own pleasure and you couldn't fight her off... but, she's much too giving to deny you for too long. Unless you're being a brat of course.

Not into choking per say, however... Abby's hands just look so nice around your pretty, little neck. She'll place her palm around your throat to guide you to where she wants and so your eyes stay on hers, but never will she squeeze. She doesn't want to accidentally hurt you.

Loves to stretch you out with her thick fingers. The sight of her fingers disappearing in your tight hole does something feral to her and with every digit she adds, she can't help but growl.

Heavily into marking and by that I mean, you marking her. There's just something about how when she's pounding into you with her strap, the way you claw into her back...

Your nails dragging angry, red lines down her shoulder muscles and the curve of her spine to find purchase as you scream her name.

She'll admire those scratches in the mirror the morning after endlessly. Smirking at the memories of you two that flash in her mind.

Obsessed with how soft you are compared to her. Your breasts and ass, the malleable flesh she can grab on your tummy and your squeezable hips. There are times where she will be walking by you and just have to slap your ass just to see it jiggle nicely for her.

Sit on her face. It's one of Abby's favorite things and don't pull that hovering bullshit.

She will force you down onto her mouth and nose with her herculean arms and keep you there even if you protest.

Her nose bumping against your clit, her tongue expertly moving in between your folds, her hands leaving imprints upon your thighs from how hard she's forcing you to stay still on top of her.

The type to say the most sugar sweet praises while she's absolutely pounding you into the mattress.

"I love you, you know that? You're so good, so good for me, hon. Taking me so well."

Your cheek pressed against the sheets, her big arms caging around you, thick fingers kneading bruises into your hips. A handprint on your ass.

"Love you, baby. You're the best. All pretty for me, huh? So beautiful when I'm fucking you."

If she could get you pregnant, she would 100%. There's just something primal that clicks in her head when she's using her strap on you. She wishes it were a real cock and she could really fill you up.

Abby's thought about you two having kids more than she'd like to admit.

The type to have the softest aftercare ever, all traces or her dominance stripped bare.

Abby may have used you until you thought you'd pass out, never relenting despite how much you begged for a break, given you so many orgasms you thought you couldn't breathe and you saw stars in your tired, teary eyes...

But, as quick as the snap of a finger, she turns into sweet, caring Abby once more.

She'll wash you clean, smirking at how you whimper from being still so sensitive and run the calloused pads of her fingers along the bruises she left from manhandling you.

You won't be leaving her arms anytime soon. She'll engulf you in her warmth, kissing the love bites she left on your neck and whispering how much she loves you.

"My pretty girl, always so perfect. Rest up, yeah?"

She'll say in a low rasp, lips against your skin and your body encompassed by hers.

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You��re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[nnight-dances]

XOXO, YOU MIGHT BE MY NEXT!

PAIRING: lee anton x fem!reader

GENRE: short n' sweet moments!!!!

TROPES: friends to lovers, college au, turning 20 existential dread inspired by yours truly, flirting friendship dynamics, no drama in this one because i'm sick n tired bro

WHAT TO EXPECT:

Something about Anton had changed ever since he turned 20 and you could not put your finger on it. All you knew was he had made it his mission to fluster you and letting him catch a hint of what he was doing to you was a bad idea...

"I can't believe I'm no longer a silly little guy in his teen years," sighs Anton. Had the speaker been a remotely more predictable person than Lee Chanyoung, decidedly the king of "never let 'em know your next move," you would've at least pretended to be amused by his statement.

Instead, you echo his sigh with your own. "Come on, there's no way you're still whining about this. You used to cry about being stuck a nineteen year-old and being called a kid, and now that you're not? You're crying about it, too!"

Anton frowns at your sharp but resoundingly true words. He crosses his arms, leaning closer to you across the table, his eyes taking on a candid gravity. "I'm serious this time, Y/N, I'm spiralling. I feel like I should be doing… more?"

You blink at him. Count on Anton to have an existential crisis in the library of all places. You could've even get get vulnerable with him right now if you wanted, what with the mobs of students surrounding you, chattering away in their own circles. 

You pat his arm across the table, feeling the soft fabric of his baby blue hoodie that always sat so well with his eyes.  "It'll be fine, Ant, you're doing enough as it is. You're a good student and a good friend, too. That's more than a lot of people can claim."

He doesn't hide the small smile that creeps onto his face, "You really think so?" Then, he tilts his head and like a switch turning, his smile turns flirtatious. "But that's all you think of me as? A good friend?"

You stare back at Anton, at a loss for words at his sudden change in demeanour. "Well, yeah? Aren't we…?" you ask the question hoping he'd drop the act and laugh it off but his smile is only morphing further into a smirk the more flustered you get.

Feeling your ears warm, you avert your gaze, suddenly incredibly intrigued by the laptop screen of a girl working a table away from you. You think about Anton and how the two of you had always been closer to each other, compared to the rest of your friends. Maybe it was only because your schedules always matched up, allowing you to grab meals together and hole up in the library after. Maybe it was because you lost track of time when you were with him, laughing at something stupid or spouting something stupid yourself just to watch him laugh with you. 

You couldn't say the possibility of being something more to him hadn't crossed your mind. Of course it had, Anton was the most charming guy you'd been around for a while and you felt comfortable with him like with nobody else. And it was that comfort that was the very reason you didn't feel the need to pursue more with him: it was enough to be his friend. 

But something had changed about him ever since he turned 20 a week ago. You don't know where to pin the feeling that he'd changed but he'd become more… direct. For example, the night of his birthday, you'd decided to show up at his door to wish him in person at exactly 12 am. He'd been thrilled to see you and pulled you into a hug. A completely normal hug. Just a little too long for two people who were just friends. But you had been more than happy to feel his warmth so you didn't mention it. When you did finally pull away, Anton had chased you face, planting a kiss on your cheek out of the blue.

It had caught you off guard like nothing else. You'd stared at him, not unlike how you'd looked at him a few minutes ago, turning hotter by the second. But he'd simply grinned the purest grin ever, thanking you sincerely for wishing him. 

With that and his sudden question of your relationship with him, you didn't know what to think anymore. 

Anton has gone back to his work by the time you come back to your senses, as cool as ever. You can hear the hum of the music in his earbuds as he types away at his computer. You really don't know what to think, with his flirting and nonchalance after. God, you think you might drive yourself crazy.

And you desperately want to keep your sanity so later that night, on your walk back home from the library, you try to hint at it. "Hey, you know…" you start, catching his attention, "I feel like you've changed somehow… since you turned 20."

He looks amused at your admission, brows quirking up, "Really? Please, do say more."

"Well," your eyes jump from his to your shoes and then back, "Like you're acting different."

"I am?" his cheeks rise, "Is it weird?" 

You note that he doesn't ask you how he's acting different, implying he probably knew what he was doing. The thought of it being on purpose only rattles you more. 

"Not weird, no," you breathe, "I'm just not used to it, I guess." You hate yourself for not knowing where you were going with his. Anton might as well think you were the weird one for reading into his actions so much without having a proper reason to. 

But before you can backtrack on your observation, you feel Anton's hand brush against yours. You look up at the contact and then, his fingers interlace with yours, a soft tug bringing your joined hands into his pockets. 

Your heart nearly catapults itself outside of your chest at the sudden touch. All while Anton watches you but you turn coy, looking away. 

"Is this okay?" his voice is low, so as to not startle you. As if you could possibly be any more startled than you already were.

You look at him once again and his eyes are sincere, as sincere as his hand is in yours, keeping you close to his side. "Yeah, it's fine," you hear yourself saying, as if you didn't belong to your own body anymore. 

You walk back in silence but warmer than ever, with Anton's hand enveloping yours the whole time. You feel dizzy with the weight of his touch and with the confusion of it all. 

He walks you to your room without a word and when your hands finally part, he gives you a soft smile. "Good night, Y/N." You nod, unsure if you could form any words right now. You turn to unlock your room when Anton speaks up again: "Oh, and about earlier? You might wanna get used to it." 

You spin to face him but he's walking away without another look at you and you swear your knees all but give out under you with how weak you feel. Your words from earlier come rushing back and your heart races even in your own company as you enter your room. Anton might just be the death of you at this rate. 

— 

The next day you retain your composure for the most part, all thanks to the fact that you don't encounter Anton as often as usual because you have back-to-back meetings for club activities and a class project. But the feeling of accomplishment vanishes as soon as you spot him outside the study room where you'd met up with your project-mates. They leave, biding you goodbye and side-eyeing the boy outside, clearly waiting for someone. 

"Anton?" you call out, slowly approaching him. He looks up with a beam, "Hey! You're finally done?"

"Yeah, but what are you doing here?"

"You said you'd be here for your meeting so I thought I'd come pick you up."

You faintly recall shooting him a text about not being able to meet up at your usual spot because of your group meeting but hadn't expected him to show up there.

"Oh, I guess that's nice of you," you say.

"You guess?" Anton echoes, sulking, "Come on, Y/N. I've been sad 'cause I didn't get to see you all day and that's all you have for me? We have a lot of work to do here."

You're in a daze the whole time he's speaking, watching his lips move and feeling your stable headspace slip farther away from you. "No, I mean, I'm glad to see you, too. I just didn't expect it." 

"Told ya to get used to it, didn't I?" he shakes his head like it's the most obvious thing in the whole world. "Anyway, are you free for the night now?"

When you nod, he goes on. "You wanna come over and watch a movie with me? I've been wanting to watch it for a while now but I never got the chance too…" He goes on to give you a brief synposis of it and you can practically feel the excitement radiating off him. 

You laugh at his genuine enthusiasm and agree without a thought, forgetting your current weakness around him.

Which is why it only dawns upon you when you step foot into his room to find it to be oddly… small. Is it the same size it had always been? Yes. Had you been alone in it with him before? Also, yes. But had it ever felt like you were going to pass out from anxiety because you were all alone with him before? No. 

You plop onto his bed without a word and if Anton notices your zoned out state, he says nothing. He takes his coat off and hangs it up, tapping your shoulder. "You sure you don't want to take your jacket off? It's kinda warm in my room." You nod, having forgotten to slip your jacket off. You hand him your jacket with a soft thanks. 

You hate to be the shell of a person you are right now, so you make yourself comfortable, sitting against the wall with a cushion for your back, taking your boots off. You pat your chest as Anton is busy setting his laptop up in a position for both of you to watch on his bed. When he finally takes his seat next to you, settling closer than he usually does, you tell yourself to stay calm and enjoy the rush of feeling his arm brush against yours, instead of letting it unnerve you. 

It helps to let the feeling be, instead of running from it. You relax in your own skin, finding the peace to finally focus on the movie instead of the boy next to you and in your heart. 

It's a sweet movie, as it turns out, even earning a few tears from you as the ending credits roll in. Anton hits pause on the movie, shifting to look at you. You half-chuckle through your tears, wiping them haphazardly with the back of your hand. 

Anton catches your wrist in his, pulling it away from your face and to his lap. His thumb replaces your hand, gently wiping at your cheekbones. "I'm guessing you liked the movie then?" his voice is tender, not mocking like you might have expected. You nod, "Yes." 

"I'm glad. I wasn't sure you'd be willing to spend time with me alone after… after yesterday," Anton says, his lashes hooding his eyes as he speaks, tone suddenly coy, "But I'm glad what I said didn't make you uncomfortable." 

"...you were worried?" you ask, shocked at his shy revelation.

"Well, yeah, I was worried when I didn't get to see you the whole day today that maybe you were avoiding me. But that was just me overthinking things. I'm scared to fuck things up with you."

You find yourself smiling at his sincerity. "You're so cute, Anton." 

The words slip out of you before you can filter them and the boy's head bobs up in shock at your compliment, and you both sit in silence, staring at each other's flustered faces. 

And then you both break into laughter at yourselves. "What are we even doing?" 

Anton runs a hand through his hair, "I don't know, Y/N. What do you want us to do?"

You rest your head against the wall, humming, "I want us to stay this way. To be with you." 

He chuckles, "I feel like those are mutually exclusive events, no?" 

"They don't have to be," you mumble, reaching for his hair, just so you can feel the soft strands tickle your skin. "I'm happy with you, Anton."

Anton's hand finds yours in his locks, bringing it to his lips as he kisses your knuckles. "I like being with you too, Y/N. But I want more. Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I want you, all of you."

His words would've sent your heart into paralysis had they been uttered a few hours ago but having been lulled into the comfort of his presence for a while now, having attuned yourself to your own feelings at last, you feel a soaring feeling, like you had finally found something you had been looking for this whole time.

Anton's pulling you closer, his hand encompassing yours as his face overwhelms your vision. "Kiss me already," you urge him and just like that, his lips find yours, with a crash that makes you giggle a little. The force of his warm lips sways you a little and Anton catches you in his arms, pulling you into him by the waist. 

"Can't believe I finally did it," you hear him whisper when he pulls back, looking at you in awe. "You don't understand how long I've been wanting to kiss your damn face." You laugh into him and he hugs you tight. "God, when you showed up at my door on my 20th birthday, I swear it took me everything to not kiss you right there and then."

"If I recall correctly, you did kiss me," you remind him, "Granted, it was on the cheek. But you could've sped the process up had you just kissed me for real."

Anton glares at you, "You're saying that? Really? After you went mute because of said cheek kiss? If anything, I was being considerate. Plus, I would kill to see you go that red again."

"You jerk! So you were teasing me on purpose!" 

"Well, yeah? What kind of a guy would I be if I didn't flirt with the girl I like a little just to enjoy how she reacts? It's the cutest shit ever!"

You hide your face in his sleeve, "You suck. I lost sleep over that, you know."

"Good to know that it wasn't just me, then." Anton's arms wrap around you so naturally that you can only wonder if this was really your first time being intimate with him. 

When you rise from his arm, his lips capture yours again, urgently like he was running out of time. You return his fervor, just as desperate in your desire as he was. That night, you fall asleep in Anton's arm, feeling his heart beat next yours as you dream away. 

– 

It takes you a second to get used to the feeling of Anton being your boyfriend. Because in many ways, it's the same as always: him picking you up from class to eat lunch together and spending your time together struggling with coursework. But now there's more to it: you walk home, hand in hand, and spend your nights together.

"Hey, you wanna come over and make out after you're done with this meeting?"

You snap around to glare at Anton when he whispers the question in your ear. You hit his arm and he laughs boyishly, shrugging, "What? I'm just being real because you and I both know that's what's gonna end up happening–"

"You're outrageous, Anton," you shake your head, "We don't always–! Well, maybe most of the time, yes, but–" He cuts you off, pecking your cheek. "Yes, yes, whatever you say, babe. I'll see ya in an hour." 

– 

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.