#and I don't have the heart to go into that.

[angstandhappiness]

BAH HAH, DUDE

I just realized I can cross over my favorite characters and literally no one can stop me. This is way too much power.

(these captures are from gll99's GX fansub! you can find it free on their blog @/kaiowut99)

Part 2

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[shuaflix]

the xu minghao dilemma

❝ i was having more fun talking about how objectively and subjectively good i look. ❞

PAIRING ▸ xu minghao x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, suggestive, coffee shop au, college au, childhood friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, slow burn, weed consumption, tooth-rotting fluff, lowkey jeongcheol and verkwan if you squint, everyone being whipped for minghao, a somewhat heated makeout scene, friend group antics as per usual, minghao being the living embodiment of a green flag, ft. yooyeon from triples

SUMMARY ▸ like most film students, you find yourself experiencing the worst creative block of your life when you're tasked to film a documentary for your final project. enter: your old childhood best friend turned stranger, xu minghao—an (incredibly handsome) ex-dancer and barista who just might be the spark of inspiration you need to make the best film of your academic career. on the flip side, minghao needs this film to win him the scholarship that lets him dance again. despite all, your circumstances don't stop your old, repressed feelings for minghao from resurfacing.

PLAYLIST ▸ insomnia by zerobaseone • kidult by seventeen • meme by &team • heart surf by kep1er • glue song by beabadoobee

WORD COUNT ▸ 20,606 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is for user junyangis my favorite bot

“THE TIGER: ICONIC SYMBOL OF THE WILD, AND AN APEX PREDATOR THAT WE FEAR AND ADMIRE.”

You panned your camera to focus on Yoon Jeonghan, who was currently sifting through the mess of papers and notebooks across his desk. All of the drawers were turned out with their contents scattered across the carpet. His frantic search for his missing vape had been going on for the past twenty minutes, and you were certain this was his fifth time going through his belongings again. 

Normal people, such as yourself, would’ve given up within the first five minutes, but your best friend’s resilience was admirable. His unwavering persistence was exactly the sort of character you wanted to showcase in your films. Without the context of the vape addiction, of course. 

“And here,” you continued in the best David Attenborough impression you could conjure up, “we see a tiger in the wild.”

“Go to hell, dude,” Jeonghan snapped back. You squinted at him through your viewfinder to catch him carding a frustrated hand through his hair. “My Circadian rhythm needs flavored air to function.” 

The tiny red light flickered once, then vanished as you stopped recording. “Try regular air. It’s good for you—and free.” 

“Yeah? Then maybe this is my calling to get sober.”

(It was important to note that Jeonghan tended to say this very frequently.)

He finally rose from the corner of his dorm room where he had strewn the contents of his drawer all over the floor. Jeonghan crossed over to where you were sitting—on his bed, leaning against the wall with his Doraemon pillow—and plopped down beside you. His eyes, glazed-over and half-lidded, were fixed on the ceiling, as if he was going over each groove in the drywall. 

For the past two hours, you had been agonizing over ideas for your documentary. Jeonghan was typically great when it came to bouncing ideas off each other, so you often pestered him until inspiration struck. Today didn’t seem like a particularly stimulating day for either of you, though. Your best friend paid attention for maybe half an hour, but even he started running out of ideas for potential documentary content. 

“By the way,” he added, still stuck in a faraway trance, “do not use whatever you just recorded for your film project. I don’t consent to being exploited for views.” 

It had been weeks since you came to terms with the fact that Jeonghan didn’t want to be the subject of your documentary. You had a semester to complete this project for your documentary class, and although you still had a decent amount of time left, you were starting to get worried because most of your classmates already started outlining their ideas. You hadn’t even found your main character yet.

There were quite a few reasons why you wouldn’t have chosen Jeonghan in the first place; it didn’t just chalk down to his disinterest in being filmed. You wanted to capture someone with a story—a progression or growth that tugged at the heartstrings of your audience—and using someone you weren’t already close with would help you film more objectively.

You raised a brow at your friend. “You? I was clearly filming a wild animal in its natural habitat.”

“Recording without two-party consent is tasteless,” he reminded. “And just for that, I’m not telling you the incredible, brilliant idea I just had.”

“You haven’t exactly shared that many incredible, brilliant ideas for me to feel disappointed about that.”

“No, trust me. It’s really good.” He used his elbows to prop himself up, shooting you a wide grin. His resolve to withhold his proposition crumbled within seconds of his excitement. “It’s the best idea I’ve had since that one time I stole Seungcheol’s towel and t-shirt while he was showering.” 

You glanced at him through the corner of your eyes. “All you did was make him walk around shirtless.”

“Exactly.” Jeonghan returned your look with far more judgment than you had given him. “That was the best part.”

The memory was hard to forget. During your freshman year, you were living in the dorms where your RA was Choi Seungcheol. It was safe to say that a solid majority of the people on your floor had eyes for the dreamy Resident Advisor. Jeonghan only contributed to the noble cause of fan service by ensuring that Seungcheol would end up having to walk through the hallway with his glorious abs on display, his chiseled body beaded with water droplets. 

“So what’s your idea? Ask Seungcheol if I can film a strip tease?”

“No, it’s—wait, that’s so good. If we can get that greenlit, you should totally—”

“Nope, definitely not doing that,” you interjected with a firm shake of your head. You were not going to present a half-naked Seungcheol as your final project. “Give me something more PG-13.”

“Boring, but fine.” After mocking a pout, Jeonghan’s lips immediately curled up in a smirk. “Xu Minghao.” 

The very mention of his name made you straighten up. You hadn’t spoken to Minghao in years, and although your friends would tease you about being his childhood friend, you didn’t see your past with him as anything worth mentioning. After all, being close friends during middle school was nothing compared to the plethora of memories you made after the two of you grew distant. 

“Huh?”

“Xu Minghao,” he repeated. “Streets are saying he’s quit dancing.” 

You frowned. “Minghao quit dancing?” 

That couldn’t be right. Minghao? The same Xu Minghao who snuck out of his house to practice for hours in dance studios? The same one who took eight trains, walked fifteen miles, and hitchhiked to get to dance camp on his own? The same one who shed tears when he won his first dance competition? 

Dance was Minghao’s life; it came as naturally as breathing to him. You so clearly remembered his overwhelming passion that drove him to practice tirelessly for years. Just watching him move to the beat made you feel like he was born to express himself that way. You couldn’t imagine your childhood friend, who had been dancing his entire life, to just throw away all his hard work and talent on a whim.

“Streets also mentioned he hurt his foot real bad. Poor guy can’t compete at nationals anymore.” 

“Streets?”

“I’m protecting anonymity, okay?” After you peered at him for a moment, Jeonghan caved under the pressure of your stare and added, “Fine. It was Seungkwan.”

You scoffed. All credibility of the rumor vanished like a wisp of smoke. 

“Seungkwan also claimed Vernon needed to go to the emergency room when he got a paper cut,” you replied, unimpressed.

“No, I think it really is serious this time. You can check it out for yourself, if you want,” Jeonghan said. “He’s working at the café like, every day now.”

“His mom’s café?”

“Mmhm. He stopped for a while ‘cause of school, but he just picked up his shifts again.”

“And you think that’s what I should do for my documentary? Minghao quitting the one thing that could be worth filming?” 

“I don’t think he actually wanted to quit,” Jeonghan said, looking down at his intertwined hands in his lap with a puzzled expression, as if the Xu Minghao Dilemma™ had been keeping him up at night. “I don’t know what it is. Seungkwan said he seemed kind of off when he was talking about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, and Jeonghan continued, “You also find it weird, don’t you? It doesn’t make sense that he’d just quit like that.”

“I mean, if something’s really going on with him, then I don’t think it’s right for me to ask if I can turn that into a documentary,” you said. 

“I’m not saying that, but…” He trailed off before shrugging. “I just think it wouldn’t hurt to check in on him.”

You arched a brow at him. “Why don’t you check in on him? Aren’t you two friends?”

“We’re bros,” he corrected. Cue a dramatic groan from you, which was promptly ignored as Jeonghan elaborated, “our way of showing that we’re there for each other is by queueing up on League together or talking about the Roman Empire.” 

“Jeonghan, you have never once mentioned the Roman Empire.”

“Jokes on you, I did a research project on it in middle school.” He shut his eyes to wave off the tangent he started going off on. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re a girl—a woman. Women get to the point. They get things done.” He gave you a resolute nod, and you were starting to wonder if he was simply trying to use flattery against you. “Hence why I think you can figure out what’s going on with Minghao.”

You sighed. “But Minghao and I haven’t even spoken in so long. I don’t want to overstep.”

“Look, I’ve texted Hao—even met up with him in person—but the guy won’t budge. He just gives me that customer service smile of his and says he’s fine.”

“And what makes you think I’ll be able to do anything?”

“I’m not saying you will, but I think he’ll turn around when he realizes more people are concerned about him.”

On one hand, you didn’t exactly have any sort of relationship with Xu Minghao that gave you a reason to visit him. Did he even remember your name? You could only imagine the confusion drawing his brows together upon seeing you after years of silence. Or perhaps he wouldn’t care at all. The two of you could probably pass by each other as complete strangers, and he wouldn’t experience the same flicker of old memories that made your heart ache.

On the other hand, you truly were curious. And it wouldn’t hurt to visit the old café, either. 

Plus, you would never admit it out loud, but part of you had been waiting for an excuse to talk to your old friend again. 

You felt utterly stupid as you stood at the entrance of the café.

First, your heart was beating unbelievably fast for something that shouldn’t have been this difficult of a feat. It was a coffee shop, for crying out loud. All you had to do was walk inside and order something without making a fool out of yourself. Couldn’t be that hard, right? 

Second, it was hard to pretend like you were only here for coffee when your only intention was to check up on Minghao. Now you were wondering if you should’ve texted him first, but that probably would’ve taken you a few days to work up the courage to send. 

And the cherry on top of your miserable cake was that you didn’t even like coffee. Maybe you could get something to eat, but you weren’t big on pastries, either. You just had to force yourself to get whatever seemed the most appetizing and hope that Minghao took notice of you. 

That was another thing; you didn’t even know what hours he worked. Your plan was to work in the corner of the café until you saw him coming in. Knowing your luck, he probably didn’t even have a shift scheduled for today. Still, you were determined to wait it out since you had come this far already. 

With a shaky breath, you pushed open the door and were immediately greeted by a rush of warmth. You instinctively tugged your cardigan tighter around your frame as you scanned the space. It had been years since you stepped into the café, but everything was about the same; almost all the tables were occupied with teenagers or lone adults who came to get work done, the back wall had a space reserved for people to leave cute notes and drawings, and a familiar barista was eyeing you from the get-go. 

There he was, watching you from the counter. Clusters of stars encased in two midnight pools.

Xu Minghao, who you skillfully managed to avoid interacting with for the past six years, was looking at you with the same familiarity that stirred in your chest.

Your first reaction was to flee, but you would’ve looked ridiculous running out of the shop, so you walked to the nearest empty table first. Did people look for tables before they even ordered? You were starting to forget how to normally function as you set your bag down on the smooth oak wood. 

“Sample?” a gentle voice called from behind you as you were fumbling with getting your laptop out of your bag. You looked over your shoulder to see Minghao with a tray of bite-sized slices of cheesecake with toothpicks sticking out of the top. A warm smile graced his features, so dazzling to the point where it was blinding. “It’s one of our signature desserts here.” 

“Oh,” was all you could say at first, disoriented as you picked up one of the cheesecake bites. “Thanks.”

“I’ll be at the front whenever you’re ready to order.”

He left before you could get another word out, and you shoved the cube of cheesecake in your mouth so that you didn’t look completely frozen (which you were). Minghao probably went around giving samples to every customer, but surely he recognized you, right? It wasn’t like the two of you were completely oblivious to each other’s existence. Minghao had to know you two had mutual friends from the Instagram stories and posts you were featured in.

Moreover, his leg seemed fine. Boo Seungkwan had once again proven to be an untrustworthy source.

You worked up the courage to walk to the register after going over the menu about twenty times, finally deciding on getting a mango fruit tea. As soon as you were in front of Minghao, though, your predetermined order disappeared from your head and the menu looked like a blur of words.

Your mind went completely blank. 

“Uh…” You were floundering for something to say—anything. Coffee was the only drink coming to mind, but you weren’t sure the caffeine would be good for your nerves. “I'll have, uh…” 

This was so stupid. You waited for minutes on end to decide on your order and ended up looking like a complete fool in front of Minghao.

“Would you like a recommendation?” he offered smoothly, as if this was a routine response for him. You wondered how many other customers lost their train of thought upon seeing his face. 

“Yes, please.” 

“I know it's chilly outside, but our fruit teas are pretty popular. And, if I remember correctly, you've always been a fan of mango,” he said. You swore he was trying to avert his gaze now, although he had been maintaining proper eye contact up until this moment. “Injeolmi toast is a favorite here, too. I know you like injeolmi, unless your tastes have changed…” 

Wow. Maybe you were off the mark all along. Minghao clearly hadn't forgotten you; in fact, he remembered more of you than you could even recall yourself. 

“Mango fruit tea—that’s right. That’s what I wanted to order.” You let out an awkward laugh, brushing your hair over your shoulder to distract yourself from how hot your chest felt. “Then I’ll order both. I’ve never had injeolmi toast, but I do still like injeolmi.” 

His face broke into a bright smile—the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Oh, good. I was worried I didn't remember correctly,” he admitted sheepishly. After entering your order into the tablet, he turned the screen around for you to pay. You were so focused on tipping that Minghao startled you when he asked, “How’ve you been?” 

When you looked up, his gaze was sincere. A torrent of warmth rushed through your body.

“Good. I mean—college, you know?” Everything you wanted to say sounded garbled in your head. You didn’t even know where to begin. “I barely have any free time these days outside of assignments and working on sets.”

“Oh, right. You’re in film, huh? How’s that been for you?”

“It’s been good so far. I’m actually getting ready to film a documentary right now.”

He looked up at you with wide eyes, gleaming with genuine interest. Since Minghao had been no more than a stranger to you these past several years, you hadn’t expected to see such sincerity in his enthusiasm. 

Your heart must have skipped a beat or two.

“A documentary? About what?” But then his attention was lost, his eyes unfocusing to glance at the customer waiting impatiently behind you. You immediately felt guilty for taking up so much time, but then Minghao said, “I get off in an hour. Are you still gonna be around?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Great. Save a chair for me.” He flashed one of his shining, award-winning smiles again. “Your order will be out in a few minutes, Y/N.”

The injeolmi toast was cold. 

It tasted good enough for you to not mind, but when you saw someone else carrying a tray of the steaming bread, you figured that Minghao simply forgot to heat yours up. You were disheartened that you were doomed to eat cold, chewy injeolmi, but the sweet and nutty flavor was so delectable that you ended up scarfing it down within minutes anyway. The café seemed rather busy around this time, so you didn’t put it past Minghao to rush your order.

The mango fruit tea was incredible, though. By far the best fruit tea you’ve had. It was compelling enough for you to download Yelp to leave a glowing five-star review. 

When you opened Café du Soleil’s page, you noticed that your dear friend Seungkwan (credentials: Yelp Elite Squad) had already left a review mentioning the same drink. 

★★★★★ Nov 7, 2024 Incredible customer service. I love Xu Minghao. The mango fruit tea changed my life for the better.

You left a review about the mango fruit tea and injeolmi toast (conveniently leaving out the fact that yours wasn’t warmed up). A much more comprehensive review than Seungkwan’s, you would say. 

Your nerves were still buzzing from your conversation with Minghao. It had been years since you two had spoken to each other, and now you were waiting for him to get off his shift to catch up with you. If you maintained a friendship with him all these years, then maybe all of this would feel natural. Maybe this would’ve been your designated table to wait for Minghao after his shift, spending time with him after work and walking home together.

An hour passed by faster than you thought it would. The first ten minutes felt agonizing, watching the minutes tick by painfully slow, but once you were consumed in a discussion post for your Narrative Production class, Minghao was making his way over to you before you knew it.

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted, pulling out the chair across from you to sit down in. Your eyes followed the slice of cheesecake he brought over on a plate before he nodded toward the empty plate on your tray. “What’d you think of the toast?”

“Really good,” you gushed. You opted to leave out the part where your bread was cold. “I was almost about to go up to order again.”

“Ah, right.” He pushed the plate in your direction. “This is for you.”

“Oh,” you answered, startled. “How much was it? I can pay—”

“No, don’t worry. It’s on me,” Minghao cut in smoothly, signaling his objection with a wave of his hand. “I forgot to ask you if you liked the sample earlier, but I ended up bringing it over anyway.”

Just as you remembered, he was always thinking about others first. Minghao was so earnest in his words and actions that it was hard for you to grasp that he was real. Even in his adolescence, you remembered he had a different air of maturity from the other boys just because of how kind he was. You wanted to pick him apart and dissect his brain to figure out if he was just biologically wired to be perfect.

He was so different now—not completely different but just enough to set you on edge. Minghao had grown into his features so beautifully and still spoke in that calm and soft voice, but there was this newfound confidence he carried that seemed almost unshakeable. 

With the way he was staring at you so intently, you felt pressured to give your opinion on the cheesecake right away. You forked a sliver of the cake into your mouth, hand hovering over your mouth as you chewed. Mostly because you were trying to swallow as fast as possible so that Minghao would stop being so laser-focused on you.

“It’s good,” you mused. “I should come by more often.”

He perked up at your words, and soon Minghao was enthusiastically asking you to give him a recap on everything that was going on in your life. You hardly knew where to begin—or, rather, where to pick up after the two of you stopped being close. 

You told him about how your parents disapproved of your film major, how it took months of convincing and begging until they realized that you were serious about your passion for filmmaking. He listened intently as you talked about all the short films you made on your own to persuade your parents, and he even watched one of them on your phone, giving you nods of acknowledgement and an impressed hum.

The conversation bled into different aspects of your life, and Minghao was able to join in while you two talked about how you met your mutual friends. You explained how you met Jeonghan and Wonwoo at a party, somehow hitting it off so well that you two ended up hanging out the morning after. Minghao met Jeonghan when they were placed in the same orientation group, and you thought about how funny it was that the world was small enough for you two to have grown apart and still ended up with mutual friends. 

It was getting dark outside by the time Minghao was giving you the rundown of how he met Seungkwan, detailing the encounter in a way that made Seungkwan seem a little insane. Apparently, Minghao had gotten Seungkwan’s number at a dance workshop and the younger boy spammed him with texts one night until Minghao agreed to hang out. Thankfully, Minghao found Seungkwan’s persistence to be charming. A stark contrast from how you went home early during your first time hanging out with Seungkwan because you were so overstimulated.

When Minghao started talking about going to a dance workshop with Jeonghan, you realized this was your opening.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, feigning a casual tone, “Jeonghan mentioned that you were quitting dance?”

A sad smile dawned on his face. “At least until I finish college. I just needed to take some time off to focus on school.”

“That makes sense, I guess. But weren’t you supposed to have a competition at the end of the year?”

“Nationals,” he clarified. “I’ve been pushing back my withdrawal, but I’m gonna have to do it soon.”

You noticed his gloomy expression, and it was making you remember Jeonghan’s words about how Minghao probably didn’t actually want to quit. If he really wanted to drop out of the competition, then you were certain the corners of his mouth wouldn’t be tugging down, nor would the light in his eyes dim. 

The Minghao you once knew was honest about his feelings. He unapologetically wore his emotions on his sleeve, and he prepared himself for every possible outcome so that he could keep a strong front. You always admired how he was able to stay so calm and collected as the world weighed on his shoulders.

Now, the Minghao before you looked like a kettle sputtering water from its spout, a whistle away from overflowing completely. 

It was a bold question for someone you weren’t close with anymore, but you asked, “You don’t want to withdraw, right?”

With his mouth set in a grim line, Minghao shook his head. “If it was up to me, I’d still be dancing.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“It’s just… complicated,” he said. “Our café’s been doing decently, but it’s not enough for it to stay up and running. We were barely keeping up with rent and now they’ve upped the prices, but…” He moved his leg from under the table so that it was stretched out to the side. “I tore my meniscus around four months ago. It’s a lot better now—still sore sometimes—but we had to pay for physical therapy on top of everything. I’ve had to pick up shifts here because we’re so understaffed now, so there isn’t really enough time for me to focus on dancing.”

“If we had enough money to cushion our rent for the next three months, I think this place would be saved,” he continued, “but if I’m gonna make that happen, I have to dedicate all my time here.”

Oh. You sent Boo Seungkwan a mental apology for ever doubting him about Minghao’s injury. Perhaps he wasn’t as unreliable of a source as you assumed he would be. 

You knew that the situation must have been serious for him to quit dancing, but you didn’t expect the café to be at stake. Of course, you had zero knowledge on what it took to be a dancer at a national level, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around Minghao giving up this easily. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s my decision.”

You asked, “Are you okay with that, though? Not dancing?”

“It is what it is.” He shrugged. “Our studio’s tuition on top of competition fees, private lesson fees, and workshop fees… it’s just not feasible for me to be able to keep doing this right now. Of course I could just practice on my own in the studio, but we just don’t have enough people to cover every shift here.”

You nodded along. He really sounded as defeated as his explanation made you feel, and you realized you were going to have to recount this to Jeonghan to get him to give up. This situation was far too nuanced for either of you to push Minghao to keep dancing out of pure passion. Sometimes that just wasn’t enough. 

Minghao eventually had to go to close up the shop, and you had to turn down his insistent offers to give you more food until he basically shoved a bunch of pastries into your arms before you left. As you walked back to your apartment, braving the icy bite of the wind, one thing was for certain: you were most definitely not making a documentary out of Xu Minghao’s tragic story.

“I’m running a survey,” you declared, “because this is a democracy and I value all of your opinions.”

You had called for an emergency meeting the day after you met up with Minghao. Your friends were all sitting haphazardly around your room; Seungkwan had his legs up against the wall and his body sprawled across your bed, Jeonghan was right next to Seungkwan, Junhui was sitting on top of your laundry basket despite being scolded about crushing it, Vernon was on top of your desk, and Wonwoo was the only one sensible enough to be sitting in a proper chair. 

Jeonghan scoffed. “She just doesn’t want to do the Minghao documentary.”

“There is no Minghao documentary,” you said. “There was never a Minghao documentary.”

“There was”—Jeonghan paused for long enough for the rest of them to think he had finished talking—“to me.”

Junhui leaned forward, nearly toppling over the laundry basket. Vernon was able to hold it down with his foot in time, although Junhui hardly even noticed his friend’s silent efforts to save him. 

“What’s the Minghao documentary?” he asked, his eyes bigger than ever. “Like, Xu Minghao?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan answered. “Wouldn't you watch a Xu Minghao documentary?” 

“I’d pay to watch a Xu Minghao documentary,” Junhui said, reaching over to high-five Jeonghan, who was extremely pleased that someone else supported his cause. “What can I say? He's a beautiful man.”

“Okay, there is no Xu Minghao documentary,” you repeated. “It's more of a… Xu Minghao dilemma.” 

“So you called us here because of Xu Minghao,” Vernon chimed in.

“No,” you replied pointedly, “I called you here because I really value your guys’ opinions and want to hear your suggestions about what I should include in my documentary.”

“Xu Minghao,” Jeonghan supplied.

“Except for Jeonghan. I don’t value his opinion.” 

“I think someone should die,” said Junhui with bright, sparkling eyes. “Something super tragic.”

“Or we can all live,” Seungkwan said.

Vernon offered, “Or how about something more sentimental—”

“—where everyone dies,” finished Junhui. 

“Okay, that wasn't what I was getting at,” Vernon said with mild concern crossing his features. “You scare me.”

Seungkwan, distressed at this point, spoke up louder to rehash, “Why don’t we all just live?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Jun, let’s keep in mind that I’m filming a documentary for a college film class, not a Marvel movie.” 

This was going nowhere. Clearly, you misjudged when you decided your friends were the people to go to for serious inquiries. At this point, you were considering following up on the email you sent to the local ice skating rink a month ago, outright begging them for the chance to film their team practicing. (Spoiler: They ghosted you.) 

“How about the geology department?” Wonwoo suggested, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re researching crustal processes during the Hadean geological period right now. Exciting stuff.” 

Because Jeon Wonwoo was an incredibly persuasive man (mostly because of his lethal attractiveness), you were immediately swayed by the idea. “Wait, that’s an incredible idea, Wonwoo.”

“That is the worst idea I’ve heard in my life,” Seungkwan blurted out. “If you make a documentary about the geology department, I will personally come to the screening of your film myself just to throw tomatoes at you.”

As much as you hated to admit it (or, rather, hated to admit it in the presence of Wonwoo), Seungkwan had a fair point. Presenting a documentary about crustal formations was probably categorized as a form of social suicide. You had no true interest in the topic to make it sound interesting, and the only selling point would be geology major Jeon Wonwoo and his face of the century. The lackluster content coupled with your indifference toward rocks was a disaster waiting to happen. 

Maybe you could make geology sound interesting. You entertained the idea for a few seconds before recollecting the time when Wonwoo got four shots deep and started rattling off about the demand for lithium in China. Your freshman year self was almost charmed before those beguiling minutes stretched into long, torturous hours of Wonwoo breaking down geopolitics until you blacked out. 

No, you could not make geology sound interesting. 

“Thank you for that visual, Seungkwan,” you said. “Now that I’ve returned to my senses, I’ll accept ideas that aren’t about Xu Minghao or rocks.” 

“What’s wrong with the geology department?” Wonwoo spoke up, his hand shooting up in the air to get the room’s attention.

Jeonghan snorted. “Dude, what’s she gonna film? Planet Earth?”

Wonwoo accepted his defeat wordlessly as his arm slowly retreated back to his side.

“Not that I don’t think you can come up with better ideas,” Vernon started carefully, “but why are you so against making a documentary about Minghao?”

“I’m not against it,” you clarified. “It’s simply out of the question. He doesn’t even have time to dance right now because of how busy he is with the café.”

“If that’s the issue, I can literally ask around to see who’s interested in working there,” Jeonghan said.

“Minghao’s going through a lot right now. I personally think it’s insensitive to push him to do something when he’s got so much on his plate.”

The men finally quieted down at your words, and you came to the realization that your girl friends would have probably been more useful for this sort of conversation. Maybe it was because the guys were all on good terms with Xu Minghao that they were pushing for you to ask him to work with you. It was the only conclusion you could come to with how insistent they were on you choosing Minghao.

Then, Jeonghan spoke up, “Didn’t you say you wanted to make an impact with your documentary? What if you could really help him out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just think about it.”

Your forehead creased. He clearly did have something in mind and just wanted to complicate matters for you, but you held your tongue instead of pressing Jeonghan further. 

Later that night, while you were laying in your bed with your laptop warm on your stomach, you could only think about Xu Minghao and his sad smile when he talked about quitting dance. He didn’t really want to quit, but there was just too much going on for him to juggle that along with the countless other balls being thrown at him. 

But was it right for him to just quietly let go of his dream? A passion that he had chased his whole life? 

If you were in his shoes and you had to give up your dream of film, you weren’t sure you could go down without a fight. Even when your parents were against film school, even when everyone around you questioned your abilities, you pushed yourself to take on every opportunity that came your way. Your situation had never been as dire as Minghao’s, but you could imagine how he must have felt for his dream to crumble in the palm of his hands. With the right amount of support, you believed he could mold that dream together again. 

In the still hours of twilight, you opened up a Word document and started typing away like your life depended on it. 

“You look like shit.” Kim Yooyeon’s eyes were wide when she watched you walk out of your room right when she was about to leave for her 8:00 a.m. lecture. She was in the middle of her bowl of cereal when you crossed her on your way to the couch. “Did you even sleep?” 

Your hand flew up to gently prod at the tender skin under your eyes. “Do I really look that tired?”

You all but fell against the couch, sinking into the cushions like it was quicksand. Normally, you could pour yourself a cup of coffee and get through the day, but you had accumulated enough sleep debt over the past few weeks to reach your breaking point. 

Your roommate snorted. “Remember when you stayed up for three days straight during finals week last year? You look exactly like how you did back then.”

Thanks to Jeonghan’s cryptic words, you ended up spending the entire night researching and planning ways for you to help Minghao—or, at least, what you thought would help Minghao. Your document spanned almost forty pages, and you weren’t even sure if you would be using any of it. Your intention was to share your proposals with Minghao in hopes that he would find at least one of them to possibly work out. 

The problem was: you were seconds away from falling asleep on the spot and your eyes felt sore every time you blinked. There was no way you could make it to Minghao’s coffee shop and deliver your pitch in this state. 

“I stayed up all night working on something for Minghao.”

Yooyeon’s spoon clattered against the bowl. “Xu Minghao?” 

You gave her the same rundown you gave your friends yesterday—a much more vague one because you didn't want to get into the nitty gritty details of Minghao’s life, especially when Yooyeon probably didn’t even care. Plus, you were too tired to get into the specifics. By the time you were finishing up your story, your mouth was hardly moving in time with your brain and your eyelids were drooping. You weren't even sure if you were speaking coherent sentences.

Yooyeon had her bag slung over her shoulder and was asking you something. You couldn't quite tell what it was because you were hanging by a thread at that point, but you definitely heard Jeonghan’s name at some point—maybe. All you could muster was a noncommittal sound before you drifted into a slumber.

A flash of red behind your eyelids roused you from your dreamless sleep, but you didn’t have time to squint before the nuisance of a light source was instantly blocked. You opened your eyes to see Xu Minghao sitting by your feet, using his hand to block the ray of light that shone through the window and landed directly on your face. 

Perhaps you overreacted, but you were sure anyone would scream at the sight. 

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Minghao stood up, alarmed. 

Clearly. 

You scrambled to sit up while he awkwardly shifted to the middle of your living room. 

“No, Minghao, I was just warming up my vocal cords,” you deadpanned. “I don’t think it’s weird at all that you’re inside my apartment while I’m asleep.”

“Oh.” Minghao went still for a second. You watched the puzzled look on his face morph into one of dread once he seemed to understand how odd the situation looked. “Oh.”

After a few more moments of gawking at you, he started again, “This looks pretty bad.”

“Yeah, just a little.”

“I swear it’s not as creepy as it looks. Jeonghan said you wanted to see me, and then your roommate let me in. She told me to just wake you up, but I felt bad after a while. That’s why I just let you sleep.”

That must have been what Yooyeon was asking you while you were half-conscious, and you probably stupidly agreed despite not catching anything she said. This wasn’t how you wanted to talk to him; you needed time to mentally prepare yourself to meet Minghao—preferably in an outdoor setting where you were appropriately dressed—but now he had caught you completely off-guard.

It looked like he had just gotten back from the gym with his flushed cheeks and the sleeveless top that showed off his toned arms. When he raised his arm, you could even catch a glimpse of the infinity tattoo inked across his shoulder blade. 

“I can leave,” he suggested, unsure. 

“No, stay,” you said. “It’s just that I was gonna go see you on my own. How long have you been waiting here for, anyway?” 

“Maybe ten minutes? I tried calling your name, but you asked me to let you sleep a little longer.”

You flushed, mortified. On top of accidentally inviting Minghao over to wait for you to wake up, you were sleep-talking in front of him too? Any semblance of professionalism you had was crashing and burning before you. 

“I think I was sleep-talking with my roommate, too. That’s probably why she thought I needed to see you now,” you explained with a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “Sorry about that.”

Minghao laughed and took a seat once he realized you weren’t going to shoo him out of the apartment anymore—or perhaps now he felt less guilty about showing up unexpectedly.

“So we’re even, right? Your stalking is forgiven,” you said, “but not forgotten.”

His eyes went wide with mock surprise, feigning a gasp. “Stalking? I could sue you for defamation of character.”

“Then sue me,” you challenged. “I have an outfit that I’ve been dying to wear in a courtroom.” Minghao raised his eyebrows with mild interest before you reached for your laptop on the coffee table. “Anyway, I wanted to show you something that could probably make you rethink that defamation lawsuit.”

You then turned to face him and clasped your hands together out of sheer desperation. “Please let me make you the star of my documentary.” 

Minghao blinked at you for a few seconds before asking, “The documentary for your class? You want me in it?”

You nodded eagerly. “It’ll be all about you—your dancing, the café—everything that shows how hard you’ve worked for your dreams.”

“I don’t know, Y/N…” He looked slightly uneasy at the prospect. “I might not have the time for this. I already have shifts at the café every day.”

“I think I have a solution for that, too.”

“That’s great and all, but either way, I don’t even know how much longer we’re gonna be able to keep the café running.”

“But Minghao, listen, I have it all planned out.” You scooted closer until your knees were bumping against his, and you angled your laptop for him to see the screen. “There’s a scholarship offering twenty thousand dollars, and they’re asking for a video submission on what success means to you. It’s specifically for the arts—something you’re passionate about.” 

“You mean…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the screen.

“I say we kill two birds with one stone; I film the documentary for my final project while you use it to win that cash prize.”

Minghao looked from you, to the screen, and to you again. There was a suspension of fear across his face that was coupled with a sparkle of hope in his eyes. It looked as if stardust had scattered across his irises and lit them up. 

“Twenty thousand dollars,” he started before mouthing the words again in disbelief. “That kind of money could save the café.”

“And pay for nationals,” you added. “I stayed up all night planning this out. If you trust me, I think we can actually make this work.”

“You really think so? But do you really think people would be interested in watching something that’s just about my life?”

“No doubt about it. That face sells,” you deadpanned, which caused the tips of his ears to go an endearing shade of red. “I wouldn’t have done all this work if I didn’t think we could pull it off.”

“This is all assuming I even get selected.”

“I’ll make sure you do. It’ll be my best work yet.”

After Minghao spent a considerable amount of time scanning your document over and over again (you were pretty sure the words were probably burned into his brain by now), the corner of his mouth quirked into a mischievous smile. “So, how good are you?”

“Good at what?”

“Filmmaking. I’ve never seen your work.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “I’ll have you know that I’ve had plenty of experience. I’m just using you for my big break.” You didn’t realize you had stiffened up until you let your body relax. “Do you want to see something I’ve filmed?” 

“Can I?”

“Of course. I can’t have you agree to something before you know the standard of quality you’re getting,” you said with a prideful puff of your chest that deflated too quickly when you realized that you would have to show Minghao something so vulnerable. Maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal for him, but you shed your heart and soul into your craft; it was precious to you. You opened the video file and looked at him expectantly. “We don’t have to watch it.”

“No, I want to,” he said in a voice so earnest that you wanted to believe him. He focused on the file name at the top of the video player. “A Bite of Summer—what’s it about?”

“It’s pretty short. I’ll just play it for you.”

You hit play and moved the laptop onto Minghao’s lap instead, watching both the screen and his reaction to your videography. He was so zeroed in on the film that he hardly seemed to notice the way you kept glancing at him. 

Summer was sweltering. Growing up, you always spent your summers surrounded by friends and family, whether it was going to the beach or going to the park. Living in the moment was simple back then; you weren’t confined to responsibilities and commitments that kept you from enjoying what life had to offer. In fact, some of your best summer memories were shared with Minghao. The two of you laughed without a care in the world as the warmth of the sun enveloped you.

Once you entered high school, however, summer felt so humid that it was suffocating. You were up to your neck in assignments, exam preparation, and part-time jobs. It became difficult to enjoy your youth when you had countless hours of work to do. Coincidentally, it was your first summer spent without Minghao; you weren’t sure if things would’ve been any different if you two were still friends back then, but maybe it would’ve simmered the ache in your chest. 

Your short film, A Bite of Summer, was created amidst your summer blues. The film was about a girl named Rhea who meets her younger self at the beach she once used to frequent during the summer. It represented the relationship the older you had with your younger self; you were excited to grow and move forward as the seasons changed, but summer was always a bittersweet reminder that you had no time to grieve over your childhood. You didn't know what you lost until it was gone, but perhaps that made the memories even more precious. 

You were still looking at Minghao, but you could hear your main character, Rhea, asking her younger self, “Are you ever scared of growing up?”

Minghao was watching intently, hanging onto every word. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous about him watching. In your last year of middle school, you and Minghao began to have long conversations about how terrifying it was to grow up. He would open up about how much pressure he felt from balancing dancing and school, and you would tell him how you felt like you couldn’t breathe in the summer heat. Perhaps he had forgotten by now. Perhaps he wouldn’t connect your film back as being so personal to you.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his reaction during the scene where the younger Rhea reaches for the older Rhea’s hand, gripping tightly even as cold waves started to lap at their feet. Minghao watched quietly, dark eyebrows pulling together as he focused.

“I am,” the younger Rhea answered.

“You are?”

“It sounds exciting, but nothing scares me more.” You watched as Minghao’s lips parted, chestnut eyes glistening when she continued, “Maybe it doesn't feel that way because you don’t have to live through those hard times anymore, but I’m glad the good times stuck. That means this feeling will pass”—their hands dropped to their sides—“and yours will, too.” 

And that was when a tear fell from Xu Minghao’s feathery lashes. 

You’ve never witnessed anyone cry over the work you created. Sure, it tugged at your own heartstrings since it was so personal to you, but to watch someone else have such strong feelings over your film made tears well up in your eyes.

“Are… are you crying?” you stammered out, a tittering laugh following as Minghao used the pads of his thumbs to smear his tears off his cheeks. It was a pretty sight, like watching wet clay come undone before you. 

“It was really good,” he mumbled, giving you the most adorable pout you had ever seen on an adult man before turning his head away to keep wiping at his tears. “I’m serious. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m just surprised. I’ve never seen someone react like that to my work.”

If you were just a little braver, you probably would’ve thanked him first before telling him that you were touched. You would’ve told him that no one had ever peeled back your layers without making it uncomfortable—sometimes even painful—but he handled you with so much delicacy. You would’ve told him that this film was about you, at your core, and perhaps he had already picked up on that, but you would’ve been brave enough to express yourself.

But you weren’t brave, so you just smiled at the lone tears that streaked Minghao’s face before he wiped them with his sleeve. 

“Seriously, you’re incredible,” he said, still staring at the paused video on your laptop. The corner of his mouth lifted. “That was so short and it still made me cry.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across your face. “You’re actually crying.” 

“Well, yeah. Are you having fun watching me suffer?”

Was it borderline psychopathic that you were smiling while Minghao cried? Probably. On the other hand, you were simply glad you didn’t burst into tears alongside him. You nearly felt like you could’ve with the way he got so emotional about your work. 

“A little,” you admitted. Surprisingly, that got a smile out of him. “I’m just happy you like it.”

“I do,” he said. A pause, then, “Why’s it called ‘A Bite of Summer,’ by the way?”

You scoffed. Actually, you had your reasons, but no one had ever asked you about that film specifically.

“I hate summer, that’s why,” you told him. “I can’t stand the heat.”

“Really?” His brows lifted. “I think summer’s pretty overrated, too.”

You cracked a grin. “No, you don’t. It’s your favorite season.”

“Hey, I can still acknowledge my favorite season’s overrated.”

He grinned and held the palm of his hand out to you. You were confused before Minghao gently grabbed your wrist and put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and giving you a firm shake. Your hands were too clammy to be gripping Minghao’s calloused palms, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Use me however you want, director,” he continued, and the sparkle in his eyes was something magnificent. “I’ll be your best star yet.”

“No lawsuit?” you asked.

Minghao laughed. “No lawsuit.”

You were sweating like you had just run a marathon. (You practically did; the distance from your apartment to Jeonghan’s location in the library was a mile and a half, and you were sprinting half the time.)

Since you needed some time to plan out your filming, you exchanged contact information with Minghao and told him that you would contact him when you were ready. Your nerves were buzzing with excitement now that you actually had a subject for your documentary. Conversations with your classmates would no longer make you feel like you were desperately hurrying to catch up with everybody else. 

Your friends usually claimed the big table on the third floor. It was positioned at an optimal location next to the bathrooms and the elevator, so you were quite proud of your unassigned-assigned table. Junhui and Wonwoo were normally the ones who spent the most time in the library, whereas Seungkwan and Vernon usually only stopped by if they wanted to mess around. 

“You bitch,” you spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Jeonghan, who was trying to frantically wave off clouds of smoke when he coughed in surprise. You collapsed into the chair next to him, catching your breath while Junhui and Wonwoo hardly batted an eye. “You should be prosecuted for vaping in the library, by the way.”

“I know, right?” Junhui frowned disapprovingly. “Take it outside, Jeonghan.”

“Addiction kills,” Wonwoo added, doleful. 

“I was gonna ghost it!” Jeonghan cried in defense, lowering his voice toward the end once he realized they were, in fact, still inside the library. He turned back to face you. “Anyway, why am I a bitch again?”

“You invited Minghao into my apartment!”

“Okay, a lot of accusations here. What about a hi? A hello? A congrats-on-finding-your-vape-Jeonghan?” 

You fixed him with a glare. “It’s one accusation that has already been confirmed, Jeonghan. Start talking.”

“Yooyeon told me that you needed to see Minghao. All I did was pass along the message,” he explained before a smirk grew on his face. “So what did you need to see him for?” 

“Oh, right.” You cleared your throat. “I’ve decided on doing the Minghao documentary.”

Jeonghan’s lips parted in surprise, the corners of his lips twitching upward again. “Oh my god, you’re actually doing it! I mean, I had a feeling after Yooyeon called me, but…” 

“Good choice,” Junhui said. “He’s an absurdly attractive man.”

“Phenomenal face for the cameras,” Wonwoo agreed, humming along. 

“Okay, since when were you guys the Xu Minghao Fan Club?” You looked around the table and shook your head once you saw Junhui’s dreamy expression. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Point is, the Minghao documentary is in motion and I have a shit-ton to plan.” You turned to face Jeonghan. “You said you’d help out at the café, right? You’ll get paid, of course, but Minghao can’t keep taking shifts every day.” 

“They’re still having money problems?” Jeonghan asked.

“Unfortunately, but he said that hiring part-timers is better for them financially.”

He hummed, nodding along to your words. “Well, I didn’t say I’d be helping at the café, but I’ll find you someone.”

“They’ll still have to be interviewed, of course. Oh, and they’ll have to be trained, and—”

“Don’t even worry,” Jeonghan assured. “I have the perfect person in mind. Actually, I think I can find you a few more, too.”

“I’m a little scared.”

“When have I ever let you down?” Before you could point out that there had actually been a few instances, Jeonghan seemed to realize the flaw in his question and added, “Rhetorical question. Anyway, just leave it to me.”

To an extent, you did trust him. Not only was Jeonghan involved in several clubs and organizations on campus, but he was also a freshman orientation leader for two years in a row. This was especially useful in the sense that he had connections to students you had never even seen in your life; when you used to have inquiries on subjects you wanted to film, you always asked Jeonghan for any references, and he almost always had a name in mind.

After a pause, your friend gave you a quizzical look. “Did you run all the way over here just to say that?”

“Uh…” 

“You know you could’ve just texted me, right? Or called? Modern technology works wonders, Y/N.”

“Oh—right.”

Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so excited over something that you full-on sprinted to tell your friends. It begged the question of whether you would be this ecstatic if you weren’t filming a certain someone. The ice skating rink surely wouldn’t have gotten this reaction out of you. 

You were fairly certain you knew the reason behind your lapse in judgement, and it was becoming clear that Xu Minghao was tangled right in the center of everything. 

Filming started the following Monday. 

You captured Minghao throughout his everyday life at first, which meant you had to follow him around all day to compile footage. Mentally, you weren’t very prepared for this. Following Minghao from campus, to the café, to his dance studio, and wherever else he decided to venture made you feel as if you were intruding. It was as if you were peaking into a world that you weren’t allowed into. 

He wasn’t that great when it came to school as a kid, but now Minghao really tried to study hard, even if that meant dozing off in the middle of reading a page of his textbook. Just a few days ago, he invited you over for a movie, and you were really supposed to be editing your footage, but you caved within minutes of him asking. You remembered Minghao had always been a sucker for coming-of-age movies, but you were dumbfounded when he shed tears during Little Women. (What you wouldn’t dare tell him was how endearing you found him). 

You toed the line as someone between a friend and a stranger; perhaps to Minghao you would be considered a friend, but you weren’t quite sure why you couldn’t see yourself fitting in that space again. Still, as you filmed him and shot his interviews, you were so intrigued by the new sides of him that kept coming up, as well as the parts you nearly forgot about. It felt strange to hear such sincere accounts of Minghao from the interviews with his instructors and peers, yet to be the one behind the camera that couldn’t hold onto him before.

Today, he was waiting for you at 11:30 a.m. sharp outside of the Arts building. It had been a little over a month since you and Minghao started working together, but you were more worried about the scholarship deadline than your own assignment’s deadline. Filming was going smoothly, but you still needed to get interviews from his friends and family. Editing the dance footage was going to take the entire night since you were in the studio for hours. 

You were overwhelmed, to say the least. 

Minghao was finished with classes for the day while you had an annoyingly long gap between your morning and evening classes. You were supposed to shoot some B-roll, but that completely slipped both of your minds as you were well into scarfing down the breakfast wraps you two had bought before sitting on a cold bench.

Dark, gray clouds moved like smoke across the sky. It was getting chillier, and you were suddenly reminded of when you’d wait for the school bus with Minghao in middle school. He was always carrying around hand warmers back then, offering you one without fail whenever you started to shiver. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder without thinking too deeply about how close you were. Now, with the awkward gap between you two, you wished you could go back to those simpler times. 

Maybe you were already considered friends. Maybe you were overthinking all of this.

You rarely analyzed your other friendships this thoroughly.

You would rather shrivel up and die than admit that you missed being the closest to Minghao, but whenever he said something particularly sweet or gave you that gentle smile where his eyes crinkled at the corners, you felt your heart soar just a little higher. Maybe—just maybe—if he pressed enough, he would get it out of you.

“I told my mentor I’m gonna keep practicing for nationals,” he said once he was waiting for you to finish the last few bites of your wrap, “and I told my mom about the scholarship. It took some time trying to convince her that it could actually work.”

“She was against it?”

“At first, yeah. I mean, I don’t blame her. We’re doing this on the off-chance I get selected—nothing’s guaranteed.” He gave you a crooked smile. “But, at the end of the day, it could save our café, so she’s touched that you’re trying.”

You took the last bite of your wrap instead of replying. Of course Minghao meant well, but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach pitted with anxiousness at the mention of how everything was riding on this film. It made you feel even worse because Minghao had more to lose than you did. Nationals and an assignment grade; it was almost ridiculous how high-stakes his situation was compared to yours.

“Jeonghan actually managed to find part-timers for the café,” he continued. “They’re coming by in the afternoon.”

“That’s good news, right? You sound surprised.”

“I am surprised. We hardly get people who wanna work there.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s not as convenient as an on-campus job, so most people aren’t willing to walk that far for a part-time job when they can easily find something closer.”

You didn’t mind the commute yourself, but you only visited the café occasionally; it would’ve been a different story if you were heading to work there every single day. You hoped whoever Jeonghan found was actually committed to their job.

Then, Minghao asked, “What’re you gonna be filming today?”

“I was thinking we can get some footage of you training the newbies,” you said. “Speaking of, now that you have more employees, does this mean you won’t have to work at the café as much?”

He grinned brightly. “My shifts are cut down to three days a week now. I’ll have plenty of time to focus on dance. We have other employees to train the new guys, too, so it’s not all on me.” Minghao then leaned in a little closer (making you laser-focused on stepping on every crunchy leaf at your feet to ignore how your brain was spinning) to say, “Jeonghan thinks there'll be a lot more girls coming to the café.”

“Because of the new baristas?”

He shrugged. “They’re good-looking guys.”

You thought back to the demographic of cafégoers when you first visited Café du Soleil. The majority were, in fact, teenage girls. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you discovered that Minghao’s face was the selling point, but to have multiple men like him working there? Not only were you worried that the coffee shop would turn into the Ouran Host Club, but you simply couldn’t picture even more people of the same visual caliber as Xu Minghao. 

Before you could reply, Minghao noted your pause and asked, “What’re you thinking about?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Curious about what?”

When you looked at him, his gaze frantically scattered about before he returned to looking down at his wadded-up wrapper. You wouldn’t have found it weird if you caught him looking at you, but the fact that he looked away so quickly made you feel conscious of how warm you were getting under your jacket. 

“Just wondering if they’re really all that. I find it hard to believe that whoever Jeonghan called is gonna bring in more of a crowd than you already do.”

Minghao looked baffled before he chuckled. “I don’t bring in a crowd.”

“There were so many girls when I visited yesterday! Didn’t you notice them giggling after you left their table?”

“They were probably just giggling over whatever teenage girls giggle over.”

Minghao was oblivious by nature. He was also a man, therefore he was stupid. 

Coupled together, it was a disastrous combination that resulted in wildly attractive Xu Minghao being utterly useless when it came to recognizing that he was blessed with a first-rate genetic sequence. 

“Hao,” you started slowly, “teenage girls giggle over guys.” 

“Oh.” He frowned, and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes as you witnessed him take actual offense to what was supposed to be a compliment. You figured he had deeply misunderstood what you were getting at.

“Cute guys,” you corrected.

“Oh.”

You straightened up and stared back at him, bewildered. “You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Your—” Unable to articulate what you were trying to say (partly because it was far too embarrassing to outrightly call Minghao attractive), you made a dramatic gesture to refer to his face. “That!” 

To your horror, he turned incredibly smug. “What, my face? What about it?” 

“Uh…”

“Are you trying to say I look good, Y/N?”

This just in: Xu Minghao was a sick and twisted man. 

In this very exact, very precise moment, you felt the most vulnerable you had ever been in front of the dancer, and he was using the very opportunity to humiliate you even further. 

“I’m speaking objectively,” you said. 

“You’re objectively saying I look good.”

“Yes.”

“What about subjectively?”

“Can we circle back to the café instead?” you offered, buffering as if you had to muster up the strength to push the words out through your teeth. “I’d much rather talk about the café.”

“Really? I was having more fun talking about how objectively and subjectively good I look.”

A groan fell from your lips. “You objectively and subjectively need to shut up.”

Minghao laughed at your reaction before standing up and reaching into his pockets. “C’mon, let’s get going before it gets late,” he said and pulled out a hand warmer from his coat, holding it out to you. “Here.”

You took it from him. “What’s this for?”

“You’ve been shivering this whole time.”

While Minghao chatted your ear off on the way to Café du Soleil, all you could think about was how he surprisingly paid attention to the little details about you that most people would miss. You were formulating a rough theory in your head: Xu Minghao had to be some sort of otherworldly being because there was no other explanation for how perfect he was. 

Yoon Jeonghan was going to the deepest circle of Hell.

As soon as you saw Choi Seungcheol in an apron, you knew your insufferable friend had an agenda of his own when he was scouting out potential baristas. To Jeonghan’s credit, the other two baristas he found seemed like they had been objectively scouted (no offense to Seungcheol, but you were 99% sure Jeonghan just wanted a chance to see the man as frequently as possible).

“That’s Chan.” Jeonghan jerked his chin in the direction of the younger guy who was fumbling with the cash register, and then you followed his gaze over to the barista who was fixing an acrylic pin of Elphaba from Wicked to his apron. “And that one’s Seokmin.”

Apparently, Jeonghan met Lee Seokmin through a hiking club. More specifically, Jeonghan met Seokmin at a hiking club party while they were trying to puke their guts out in the same bush. 

Lee Chan, on the other hand, was a family friend’s son that Jeonghan adored. You recalled him bringing Chan to a college party once and never again; the high school senior was later given twenty bucks to keep his mouth shut about Jeonghan hitting his vape. 

After his eyes lingered on his eye candy (read: Seungcheol) for a ridiculously long amount of time, Jeonghan finally noticed the reproachful look you were giving him. “What?”

“I know damn well you just wanted to get Seungcheol in an apron.”

“No,” Jeonghan sneered, as if he was disgusted by your accusation. “I was trying to see him with his sleeves rolled up. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever, dude. They both boil down to you being a whore.”

“Hey, I mention a hiring notice to the man I want,” Jeonghan started with an air of confidence, leaning back in his seat to take a sip of his latte, “and you turn yours into the star of your film. We’re basically birds of a feather here.”

You nearly choked over your own drink (the mango fruit tea—again), and you were suddenly grateful that Minghao was currently training the newbies behind the counter despite feeling jealous earlier about them getting most of his attention. It was a relief that you two were alone at a table and out of earshot. Jeonghan needed to stay far, far away from Minghao; he was clearly not to be trusted to run his mouth around the dancer. 

You gave him an incredulous look, ignoring the burst of heat that exploded within your chest. “First of all, lower your voice before someone hears you and actually takes you seriously. Second of all, what?” 

“What’s wrong with me wanting Seung—”

“I’m talking about the other part!”

“I said what I said—and if you think about it, you’re crazier than I am.”

“Excuse me?” Your whisper might as well have been a shout. You quieted down again before speaking, “I’m not crazy, and I don’t want Hao.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jeonghan replied, unconvinced, “So you’re telling me that you didn’t feel any sort of way after he gave you a piggyback ride home from the club last week?”

It would be impossible to forget, even if you were blasted out of your mind. After much persuasion from Seungkwan and Jeonghan, you were convinced to invite Minghao last-minute to your night out. You were already several drinks in when he finally showed up at the club, so your first instinct was to throw yourself into his arms. Not your finest moment. But he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer by the waist, so you couldn’t help but let yourself get carried away. 

Several shots later, you found it impossible to walk with how your balance was completely off. Minghao, being the knight in shining armor he was, opted to carry you home on his back while holding onto your heels. 

You settled for saying, “He was just being nice.”

“That wasn’t my question, and I don’t think he was just trying to be nice.”

“Is it so hard for you to believe that he’s just a genuinely good guy?”

“Well, he is, but it’s not like you guys just film your little documentary and move on with your lives after,” Jeonghan said. “He hangs out with you, texts you every day, finds literally any excuse to invite you over, and you guys even bought matching pajamas!”

“They were on sale!”

“Lots of things were on sale, Y/N; it was literally Black Friday.”

“It was Cyber Monday,” you corrected in a grumble. 

“You specifically chose the pajamas to wear with him.”

“We’re friends,” you insisted, although it sounded like you were more so trying to convince yourself than Jeonghan. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the undercurrent of your emotions tugging at your ankles, but that was not a revelation you were meant to have at Café du Soleil with Minghao in your vicinity. “We’re just doing what friends do.”

Jeonghan slurped his drink in a ridiculously loud manner. You shot him a disapproving look.

“You know what I think?”

You were certain that you didn’t want to hear what Jeonghan thought, but nevertheless, you entertained his attempts to provoke you. “What now?” you snapped.

“I think you’re still hurt by how you two drifted apart—you and Hao,” he said, “and you’re probably thinking it’s gonna happen again. That’s why you’re too scared to admit he’s being a little more than nice to you.”

Bullseye. Jeonghan had watertight intuition when it came to the people he was close with, and you were no exception. His words were so on the mark that you felt vulnerable and exposed, like your skin was suddenly clinging too tight around your bones.

The thing was, you still couldn’t exactly remember how you and Minghao grew distant. You recalled the throng of memories of when you two were friends, but everything leading up to your falling out was hazy. Could you even call it a falling-out if there weren’t necessarily any hard feelings? He certainly hadn’t done anything that made you want to block him out of your memory (it was Xu Minghao, for God’s sake), but you couldn’t imagine why you would be so hurt over growing apart from an old friend.

“You really chose the worst possible time and place for this conversation,” was all you could mutter in response.

“We have air conditioning and cheesecake. What could possibly be better than this?” 

Whether Jeonghan was selective about what he chose to be perceptive about or simply didn’t understand the gravity of this situation, you couldn’t tell; you just gave him a dumbfounded stare. “Anywhere else! Anywhere else would’ve been better!”

“You’re so picky.”

“And you can’t read the room.”

“You know what I can read,” he started with a cheeky grin while his eyes focused on something—or someone—else behind you, “Xu Minghao’s name tag.”

“Oh, do you like it? I drew Seungkwan’s dog and Vernon’s cat next to my name,” came a breezy voice from behind you, making your heart plummet to your stomach. 

How long had he even been standing there? You thought you could just ignore Minghao, but you found yourself turning around to see his two pets he doodled on his nametag. Unfortunately, they were cute, but you were still too mortified to give him a proper reaction.

“How—how long have you been there for?” you stammered. “Did you hear what we were talking about?”

Minghao raised a brow. “Not long. Why? Is it something I’m not supposed to hear?”

You balked before answering, “No,” but the inflection in your tone made you sound as if you were questioning yourself. 

(Jeonghan made direct eye contact with you and mouthed the word pussy. You made a mental note to deal with him later in a potentially homicidal manner.)

“By the way, Jeonghan, the guys you brought in are doing great,” Minghao went on to praise. “I don’t think we even need to train them for that long. Seokmin’s a natural at this.”

Jeonghan let out a wistful sigh. “I knew I recognized his potential.”

“Didn’t you guys meet at a party? How’d he manage to show barista potential?” you asked.

“I was thirsty and he brought me water.”

Nice. That was one way to prove himself, you supposed. 

Then, Minghao turned his attention to you. “Were you gonna get some more shots today? Chan says he won’t make a run for it if he sees the camera this time.”

Earlier, you were trying to film Minghao showing Chan the proper technique of steaming milk, which Chan hardly was able to pay attention to because he was too busy gawking at the camera. As soon as Minghao was done talking, the high schooler hurried into the break room. 

“I think I got everything I needed,” you answered, tilting your head up to see him smiling fondly down at you. The look in his eyes made you feel like something syrupy was trickling down your throat, as if you were drowning in his endearment. “Why’d you call Jeonghan over here, anyway? He’s pissing me off.”

As expected, your words got a rise out of Jeonghan. “All I did was sit here!” 

“And you opened your mouth. That’s basically a misdemeanor.” 

“Jeonghan, quit bothering her,” Minghao scolded. (“What? What the hell? What did I do?” Jeonghan went on to complain. “This is going in my Yelp review, by the way—one star for betrayal and terrible customer service.”) He looked back at you with a softened gaze as Jeonghan’s maundering turned into background noise. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?” 

You were about to head out, but your legs suddenly didn’t feel like moving once Minghao looked at you with those warm eyes of his that made your insides feel like they had been doused in kerosene and lit aflame. 

Jeonghan, who was hell-bent on his mission to push you and Minghao closer as much as you resisted, appeared to take your hesitation as an opportunity. 

“We’re going back to my apartment to smoke,” your friend declared. Although that had never been the plan, you kept your mouth shut to see where Jeonghan was going with this. “You coming, Hao?”

Minghao snuck a glance at you. “Tonight? I don’t know. I might be free.”

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan gushed before Minghao’s words could even properly register in your ears, leaning over the table to put his hand on top of yours. “I should invite Soonyoung. Remember? The guy from our orientation group that you thought was cute?” 

Of course you remembered Kwon Soonyoung. How could anyone forget a face like that? But you wanted to reach over the table and strangle Jeonghan for bringing him up in the worst possible context and potentially screwing up your non-existent love life for good. As you fought down your murderous tendencies and glanced nervously between the boys, however, you noticed a muscle in Minghao’s jaw twitch. 

You started, “Soonyoung? I mean, sure, but—”

“Actually, I’ll be there,” Minghao cut in, his face void of emotion. “What time?”

Jeonghan simpered, quite pleased with himself. “Eight?” 

“Sounds good.”

Without another word, the barista walked off, leaving you in stunned silence. Did you just witness Xu Minghao get jealous? There was no way for you to spin this as anything else; it was pure, unadulterated envy that bled out of him. 

As your face grew increasingly hot, you spoke in a frantic, hushed voice, “He cut me off. He cut me off! Have you ever seen Hao that mad? I’ve never seen him that mad.”

But Jeonghan didn’t seem the least bit worried at all. In fact, he looked far too smug. “He’s really mad, isn’t he?” 

“What’d you say all that for? I don’t think I can handle Hao and Soonyoung in the same room after this. I haven’t even brought up Soonyoung since last year, you douchebag!”

“Relax,” Jeonghan replied coolly. “I’m not inviting Soonyoung. I just said that to fuck with Hao.” A Cheshire-like grin spread across his face, and he pulled out his phone to start tapping away in front of you. “I’ve never seen him that jealous before. Maybe you should wear something nice and lace—”

“Shut up,” you interrupted with a scowl. “There were never any plans to begin with, were there?”

“Yes, there were—now,” he said, causing you to groan at the end. “I just told the group chat about it. You can thank me later.”

“I am not thanking you for the amount of torment you just put me through,” you said, hesitated, then stiffly added, “but thank you.” 

“See? I’m always looking out for you.” He gave you a sincere look. “Now do me a solid and please get Seungcheol to show up.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

yoon jeonghan: smoke sesh at my place @ 9  yoon jeonghan: be there or our friendship’s over

boo seungkwan: i have no weed  boo seungkwan: lost my vape too

you: real hustlers would never make excuses

wen junhui: she’s right

vernon chwe: i have your vape seungkwan

boo seungkwan: wtf give it back boo seungkwan: wait my vape with vernon’s saliva 🤤

vernon chwe questioned “wait my vape with vernon’s saliva 🤤”

you: alright chill

boo seungkwan: if i close my eyes i can almost taste him

vernon chwe: um. vernon chwe: i'd like to give it back because it’s yours but idk if i should anymore 

jeon wonwoo: Why are we having a smoke sesh on a random ass day  jeon wonwoo: I have a midterm tomorrow

boo seungkwan: leave tomorrow’s problems for a Tomorrow You

jeon wonwoo: True jeon wonwoo: Ok see u guys there

yoon jeonghan: i’ll provide the smoke sesh essentials

wen junhui: i have 11 edibles wen junhui: each person gets 1 and fight to the death over the rest

boo seungkwan: pog

you: thanks for that

jeon wonwoo: Amazing

vernon chwe: incredible

You were blasted out of your mind.

True to his word, Jeonghan didn’t invite Soonyoung to his gathering; and true to your word, you roped Minghao into bringing Seungcheol along. 

You were initially worried that things would be awkward between you and Minghao, but he seemed to be in a significantly better mood by the time you got to talk to him. He didn’t even know that this whole night had been Jeonghan’s maniacal plot to set you guys up, so Minghao was completely oblivious when Seungkwan ushered him to sit next to you on the couch. 

The night started off with Junhui passing out his edibles and auctioning off his last three to whoever did the best animal impression (one went to Minghao, one went to Jeonghan, and one went to Vernon). You were content with your one edible because you never had that strong of a weed tolerance, and halfway into watching Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle, you felt your eyes starting to grow heavy.

There were two types of people when high, though: one was you, who could probably be considered motionless and inanimate; and the other was someone like Seungkwan, whose not-so-wise ideas seemed to increase tenfold.

And, of course, since Harold and Kumar wanted to go to White Castle, Seungkwan and Vernon wanted to go on an adventure, too. 

After much planning (which you weren’t part of because your body felt as if it was sinking into the couch cushions), your friends mobilized their efforts to come up with a scheme to bring back food from three different restaurants at once. They split themselves up into teams; Jeonghan and Seungcheol were going to Taco Bell, Seungkwan and Vernon were going to Panera Bread, and Junhui and Wonwoo were going to Chipotle.

If you were sober, you probably would have reminded them that UberEats still existed—or that they should probably look up the closing hours.

Naturally, you and Minghao were left in Jeonghan’s apartment. You didn’t mind because they promised to bring back food, but Jeonghan had definitely orchestrated getting you alone with Minghao. This meant you were probably expected to make a move or do whatever else was deemed entertaining in their eyes.

“Why didn't you go with them?” you asked Minghao. Everything seemed much more amusing to you all of a sudden, like the tuft of his hair that just wouldn't stay down. 

“I’d rather stay here.” He shrugged and nudged your arm with his elbow. “Why? Do you want me to go?” he teased.

You reached over and patted down the strands of hair that kept sticking up. “No, stay. I need a witness if Jun’s edibles kill me.”

He laughed. “You’re not gonna die.”

“I am.” You placed a hand against your chest, right where your heartbeat thundered at lightning speed. “Please don’t be mad at me if I flatline.”

“No, you’re fine,” he said, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. His heartbeat was fast but probably not as fast as yours. “See? They’re the same.”

You thought Xu Minghao should’ve done the right thing for your heart and not look so devastatingly good all the time, but he always managed to catch you off-guard with that sickeningly sweet smile of his. He also should’ve been making an effort to not touch you so casually when your heart was already running at a million miles per hour. It wasn’t very fair that you were cursed to control your emotions every time you saw him from a decidedly good angle (which was almost every angle). You needed to bury whatever you were feeling before he entered a dangerous territory of your heart. 

On second thought, you weren’t sure you could keep him out.

“No, they’re not,” you said. “I think it’s because of the weed and the fact that you’re very close.”

You swore you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips, but Minghao expertly concealed it by raising a brow at you instead. “Oh? You’re blaming it on me now?”

“Blame is a strong word.”

Even he couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin from appearing on his face as he leaned in closer. “Then why am I such a problem for your heart, Y/N?” 

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “You just are.”

“Does it have anything to do with me being objectively good-looking?”

You groaned. “You won’t let that one go, will you?”

“Unfortunately for you, I think I like where this is going.”

Something very dangerous was brewing in your chest.

You weren't sure if it was the weed that was making you bolder, but the haze was surely letting down your inhibitions. Instead of feeling like you were sinking deeper into the couch, you felt like you were gravitating closer to Minghao. 

“Will you ever give me an answer?” he asked, and your breath caught in your throat when he delicately held your chin with two fingers, turning your head to look at him. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

He pouted, and then you mocked his pout in return.

And just when you thought he was done messing with you, Xu Minghao dipped his head to seal his lips over yours, kissing your pout away. 

Alarmed, you pulled back immediately, your eyes wide and unblinking as you stared at him in shock. He didn’t seem all that fazed himself, but he pressed his lips together tightly and withdrew his hand slowly. It was a short-lived kiss, but you were so close to getting hooked and losing all semblance of self-control.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

“W-why are you sorry?” you stuttered, pitchy. 

“I should’ve asked first.”

“Yes.”

“What?”

You shook your head to clear the mess of tangled thoughts. This was the worst possible conversation to be having while you were both high out of your minds, but you were also feeling a lot more courageous now that you knew that Minghao actually wanted to kiss you. 

You wanted to kiss him, too. Now that you had a taste, you couldn’t resist thinking about how his lips would feel against yours again, how he would touch you again with such tenderness.

“Sorry, I thought you were asking,” you said.

“Asking what?”

“To kiss me.”

“Oh.” Minghao went silent for an entire minute. (You counted the seconds.) You watched as he stared blankly into space before the weight of your words seemed to finally register. “Oh.”

Your face felt hot. “Don’t just oh me.”

Minghao chuckled in response. He shifted so that he was turned toward you, one of his hands finding purchase on the back of your neck and the other on your knee. You nearly forgot how to breathe as you were so focused on how his touch burned your skin.

“No, I was just thinking about how cute you are,” he clarified. 

“Huh?” You were pretty sure your voice was an octave higher, judging by how Minghao now looked even more amused by you. “Cute?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” His hand started to inch up from your knee, torturously moving up and down. You swallowed thickly. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You choked out a laugh. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m dead serious,” he insisted, and you could tell he was by the way his eyes darkened and his hand slid higher up your thigh. “You know I’m not a liar, Y/N.”

When you didn’t respond, he lowered his voice and continued, “You know, a big part of dancing is about the finer details.” Minghao’s hand dragged across your skin so slowly that you couldn’t hold in your trembling breath full of want. “I always make sure to pay extra attention, so I think you can trust me when I tell you you’re pretty.”

For a moment, you were floundering for words. You were already feeling dizzy by his mere touch, and then he went on to say something that made you feel even more feverish. Xu Minghao truly was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

“Here,” he said, “let me just show you.”

He moved the hand on your thigh to grip your chin again, pressing a few tentative, experimental kisses to your lips before finally capturing them in a longer, desperate manner. Your heartbeat was hardly a rhythm anymore, just a steady line of white noise that rushed loudly in your ears. Kissing Minghao was addicting, and as you moved your arms to wrap around his neck, you found yourself losing the last shred of control that was keeping you from him. 

By the time Minghao made the daring decision to slide his hand up your shirt, you two had been kissing each other senselessly. Your legs were haphazardly strewn across his lap while he bent you down to kiss you at a better angle. 

Part of you was worried that this was moving too fast; the other half was begging you to speed up.

You couldn’t make sense of anything when his tongue slid against yours so languidly, sending delightful shivers up your spine. One of your hands moved up to entangle your fingers in his roots, tugging just enough to have him groaning into the kiss. 

Just when you were certain things were going to escalate further—and god, did you want them to escalate—a loud knock at the door had you and Minghao pulling apart like two magnets with opposite poles. 

“I don’t have a key!” Junhui’s muffled yell was heard through the door. 

You and Minghao exchanged a look before he stood up to get the door. You ran a hand through your hair to look presentable again, even though your half-lidded eyes were a dead giveaway that you were floating elsewhere, high up in the clouds. 

With his taste still on your lips, the tangle of an unspoken truth wound itself tighter around your throat. 

You used The Kiss™ as an excuse for some space. The excuse you gave Minghao, however, was that you “needed a week for editing.” 

This was a (white) lie for two reasons:

Minghao wasn't going to interfere with your editing process to the extent of needing to completely push him away.

You definitely did not need a full week for editing.

The cherry on top of your excellent decision-making was that it only took you a little over a day to start missing Minghao again. 

The worst part of it all was that being the sweetest man to grace this planet, Minghao understood you right away and stopped texting you immediately. And, of course, you started to overthink his silence, as if you weren’t the one who needed time. 

After you and Minghao had been rudely interrupted by Junhui and Wonwoo, the two of you carried on like nothing happened. Apparently, Jeonghan had been very strategic about where he made everyone go to pick up food: Chipotle was close by, and he claimed it was important that you and Minghao didn’t spend too much time alone in case things got awkward; and the other two were mostly for Jeonghan’s convenience (Panera Bread because he wanted a charged lemonade, and Taco Bell because it was the farthest away and gave him more time to be alone with Seungcheol). There were good intentions, yes, but you were bitter because the only part of Jeonghan’s plan that was supposed to benefit you was the part that ended up cockblocking you.

The guys made it impossible for you to get some alone time with Minghao for the rest of the night. You couldn’t even see him the next day because you ended up sleeping in so late that Minghao was gone by the time you woke up. 

Going back to your apartment the next morning felt like The Walk of Shame. 

Now, you were sprawled across the couch in your living room, laptop warm on your stomach as you sifted through your camera footage. Yooyeon was sitting on the carpet and doing her nails at the coffee table. Earlier in the morning, when you gave her the rundown of the events from last night, The Kiss™ had her jumping on the couch for so long that you ended up banishing her to the floor.

“After everything you just told me,” Yooyeon said, “I think you should just tell him how you feel. Don’t mince your balls. Just get right to the point.”

“Mince my balls? I don’t think that’s an expression.” You paused for what felt like forever until the appropriate idiom dawned on you. “It’s mince your words, dumbass, not mince your balls.”

“Mince your words, mince your balls—same thing.”

“It’s really not.”

“Okay, but you two have had this weird back-and-forth for, like, a month now,” she said. “It’s not like he’s gonna say no to a date.”

“But what if he does say no?”

Yooyeon rolled her eyes. “You guys literally kissed. Pretty sure that’s a free pass to ask him out.”

You thought back to Jeonghan’s words, how he suggested that you were still hurt by you and Minghao drifting apart in middle school and that you subconsciously thought it could happen again. It was uncharacteristic for you to hold a grudge this long, though, but you really couldn’t remember what was the turning point that made you feel like you had to walk on eggshells around him. 

After putting your headphones over your ears, you clicked on the next video file to decide whether you were saving it for the film or not. The thumbnail that popped up was Minghao’s arm around your shoulders while you were trying to record the both of you sharing takoyaki outside. It was one of the videos that you took for fun in the middle of your shoot, but the sight made your heart flutter in your chest.

“I’ll feed you,” Minghao in the video said, a wide grin on his face as he stabbed a toothpick into a takoyaki ball and inched it closer to your lips. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Your face twisted as soon as the searing hot takoyaki hit your tongue. You remembered how you were about to drop your camera and spit the takoyaki out, but in order to not embarrass yourself in front of Minghao and everyone else around you, it was crucial that you kept your composure. 

“I said it was hot!” Minghao exclaimed when you shot him an icy glare. 

As you attempted to eat the takoyaki without burning your tongue, some of the batter dribbled down your chin. You let out a muffled yelp when it scalded your skin, pointing frantically at the mess you were making. It looked like your lips were trying to frame the word tissue, but you immediately covered your mouthful of takoyaki with your hand. 

Minghao laughed at you, a dimple carving into the corner of his lip. “Stay still. Let me get it for you.” 

The video cut right while Minghao was wiping your chin with a spare napkin. You remembered how gentle his hold was on your face, as if you were fine china. The fond smile fixed on his face wasn’t doing your heart any favors. You glanced over at Yooyeon to make sure she was too preoccupied with her nails to catch the growing smile that kept creeping onto your lips.

When you opened the next video file, the thumbnail wasn’t a frame you recognized. Minghao was in his dance studio, facing the camera at the full-length mirror to capture his entire body. You remembered the exact day he must have filmed this because he let you attempt to braid his hair on the bus ride home. 

“Hey, Y/N, I’m recording this without your permission,” he started, a mischievous grin playing on his face. “Since you’re out getting snacks, I’ve decided to vlog the choreo I just came up with.”

This time, you realized too late that your face had broken into a smile so affectionate that Cupid may as well have sent an arrow right through your chest. You were seven minutes into watching Minghao trying to master his self-made choreography when it finally hit you that you had spent the entire month with Minghao—laughing, hanging out, watching movies, going on long drives, studying at his café, and getting to know him all over again. All of that was under the pretext of filming your documentary, but now that you were realizing there was no excuse for you to be around him anymore, a strange feeling of apprehension consumed you.

You could say that you and Minghao were friends now, but your life had become so intertwined with his that you weren’t sure how you would feel when things went back to normal. 

Your attention snapped back to your laptop screen when Minghao stopped dancing to speak to the camera again. 

“I know you’re probably procrastinating on editing this, so you owe me five dollars if you haven’t watched this by the 19th,” he said. You checked the clock to confirm that it was, indeed, past said date and well into the week after. Just as you were about to make a note to send Minghao the money, he lowered his voice and continued, “But, since you watched till the end, I’ll tell you a secret. You can’t tell anyone, though, especially not Jeonghan!” 

You noticed his face was flushed a faint shade of pink when he confessed, “Now I’m only telling you this because it’s been bothering me for weeks. You never brought it up, but… I intentionally didn’t warm up your injeolmi toast that day because I wanted you to bring it back so that we could, um… talk, I guess. I still can’t believe you ate the whole thing without realizing.”

Your heart stuttered—tripped, fell over, got up again, repeated the process—and, oh, you were a discombobulated mess on the inside. 

Minghao chuckled to himself and started going off on a tangent about the injeolmi toast, but you were unable to move on from what he had said. (“You know it’s supposed to be warmed up, right? I figured you just didn’t know because you’ve never had it… maybe I should’ve given you the wrong drink instead.”)

The answer was jammed in your throat like a pill you couldn’t swallow: you liked Xu Minghao. 

And, strangely enough, the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. 

You remembered exactly what it was like to long for the sun. You’d fallen in love with all of Minghao long before. A rush of repressed feelings from your middle school years bubbled to the surface, and perhaps they didn’t make any sense to you in the past, but it was all too clear now. What you felt for Minghao wasn’t anything new; your first love blossomed long ago, and you plucked out all the petals of your feelings before they could grow any further. 

You just didn’t nip enough of them in the bud. 

If you remembered correctly, you and Minghao started growing apart the day he got his first girlfriend. It wasn’t that you two had a proper argument or fell out, but you safeguarded yourself from the heartbreak by distancing yourself until you were out of each other’s lives. He must have been too caught up in his new relationship to realize it himself, but of course you couldn’t blame him when you were the one who pulled away first. 

But things were different now. You were different now. 

In the past, you made sure to swallow your feelings down, no matter how painful and thick they were lodged in your throat. Now, however, despite how hard you tried to suppress them, you felt as if you were glowing in the light of reciprocated love. It was maddening—agonizing even—but so wonderful. 

“I think I like him, Yooyeon,” you blurted out, only looking in your roommate’s direction when you heard her knocking over her collection of press-on nails. The mess was hardly a concern to her right now, though. “Minghao, I mean.”

“Can I tell Jeonghan?” 

You reached around your laptop to grab a throw pillow and whack her over the head with it. “I’m having the most insane revelation of my life and pouring my heart out to you here, and your first instinct is to tell Jeonghan?” 

“Okay, damn, I’ll give it a few hours.” Yooyeon set her phone back down and turned around to face you again, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Now tell me everything. Like, everything. I need you to explain from start to finish.”

“That might take a while,” you warned. 

She snorted and picked up her nail file. “I think I can make time in my very busy schedule.”

Your interrogation with Yooyeon didn’t take a few hours, as you expected it would; rather, your discussion cut into the late hours of the night, keeping you and your roommate up until dawn. Jeonghan joined over FaceTime at some point and screeched loud enough for you to worry about noise complaints (Wonwoo made a guest appearance, too), but you also learned that your friend group had seen this coming from the beginning. You weren’t sure how you felt being the only one out of the loop, but Jeonghan made sure to point out that you were just completely oblivious.

You didn’t exactly discuss your next steps, though. Yooyeon mentioned asking Minghao out on a date, but you weren’t sure how to do that without acknowledging The Kiss™ first. You had to bring it up somehow, but you kept putting it off to work on editing. 

Thinking about Xu Minghao proved to be dangerous for your motivation. It had only been a week but you instinctively kept checking your phone to see if he texted you. (Spoiler: he didn’t.) It took all of your willpower, but you forced yourself to push him out of your head and focus on getting the documentary done. 

Editing was torturous. You practically spent all day and night glued to your laptop, whether it was in the dining hall or in your bed. For something that was only supposed to be ten minutes long, there were hours of footage for you to get through, some of which ended up being unusable, much to your frustration. 

Finally, though, after long days of tirelessly working, the finished project was in your hands. 

Of course, Minghao was the very first person you told. You were so giddy that you called him immediately, your heart soaring when he picked up on the second ring. In under an hour, you found yourself running to Café du Soleil to show him the documentary. 

Upon seeing Minghao’s bright face, before you could even get a hi out, he crushed you in his embrace. You breathed in the addicting scent of his cologne—gaiac wood and cedar. It was clear that neither of you wanted to pull away, but you took a step back first.

“Congratulations,” he praised, rubbing small circles on your upper arm with his thumb. “Do I get to watch it now?”

“If you have ten minutes to spare, we can watch it together,” you said, pulling out your laptop once you reached your usual table. “I wanted you to be the first person to see it.”

“I’m off my shift,” he replied, pulling up a chair right next to you, “so I’ve got time to kill.”

You handed him an AirPod to listen along with you. Sound was one of your favorite parts of creating a film—setting the atmosphere, building the tension, playing with senses and emotions—so you really wished you could give Minghao the full experience, but since you were in a public setting, this would have to do. 

The documentary opened with Minghao at his dance studio, sweat glistening on his toned muscles as his body moved to the beat. The demanding choreography coupled with his exhaustion didn’t stop him from showcasing an almost flawless performance. There was a brief exchange with his mentor before the scene cut to an interview with Minghao explaining how his passion for dance started and how he had grown into competing in national-level tournaments. 

You added a compilation of clips from Minghao’s previous performances, as well as accounts from his peers about how hardworking and motivated he was. His mentor gave a particularly heartwarming speech on how driven Minghao was as a dancer and how he put his all into everything he did. The part you were the proudest of had to be getting Jeonghan to give his two cents on being Minghao’s friend, and you were pleasantly surprised that he took it seriously and said something sweet.

“To me, success is about working hard despite my circumstances,” Minghao said. In his interview clip, he took on a more serious tone. “I don’t have to be the best dancer in the world as long as I’m doing what I’m passionate about. At some point, I think I lost myself for a while… but someone special pulled me out of that slump and pushed me to keep going. I can’t thank her enough, honestly.”

You knew it was coming because you put the clips together yourself, but your face still grew hot regardless. Minghao being right next to you wasn’t exactly helping your case or making you feel any less flustered. Perhaps most people watching your documentary wouldn’t realize who he was referring to, but you knew that he was talking about you. 

The film then got into Minghao’s financial struggles with the café, showing segments of his mother talking about Café du Soleil and how much the place meant to her family. You then showed the new part-timers being trained (with extra screen time for Seungcheol, as per Jeonghan’s suggestion—or, well, persuasion), and Seokmin even gushed about how much he looked up to Minghao in his own interview. 

The documentary ended with a few words from Minghao, switching back and forth between the dance studio and the café. The screen then faded to black with the bustling sounds of the café gradually fading out. 

It was only when your screen was dark enough to see your reflection that you realized there were tears in both yours and Minghao’s eyes. You already watched it about five times yourself, but something was different about watching it alongside the person you worked with for over a month to bring your ideas to life.

And, apparently, you two weren’t the only ones tearing up.

Minghao flinched when he turned his head to see the part-timers sitting at the table behind them and peering at the laptop screen. “Fuck, you guys scared me.”

“Sorry,” Seokmin apologized, hastily wiping at a stray tear. “It was just so beautiful.”

Chan gave you a nod of approval. “The only thing it needed was more screen time from me.”

“You literally ran away every time you were on camera,” you said, swiveling around to look at the two baristas. “Were you two just sitting behind us this whole time?” 

“Yes,” Seokmin confirmed. “We appreciated the subtitles.”

Truthfully, you were extremely satisfied with their reactions. Your short film, A Bite of Summer, bringing Minghao to tears was enough to rile you up for days, and now you had two other people who got emotional over a documentary you filmed and produced with your own two hands. 

“You really outdid yourself,” Minghao murmured, and when you turned to him, he was looking at you as if no one else was in the café except you. He reached his hand out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

With a shy smile, you said, “It wouldn’t have come together without you.”

Through your periphery, you noticed Seokmin and Chan exchanging a look.

“Alright, they’re having a moment,” Seokmin announced, standing up and gesturing for Chan to follow him. “Let’s get back to work.”

Minghao, whose ears were a bright shade of red now, tried to awkwardly laugh off the embarrassment. There was a twinkle in his eyes when he looked back at you, and you burned up all over again once you remembered how his soft lips felt against yours. Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of having a crush on someone was that your mind often went blank and filled itself up with all things Xu Minghao instead, so you couldn’t exactly think straight right now. 

“I’ve finished the application and essay for the scholarship,” he said, “so I guess all there’s left to do is submit.”

“I’m sure no one else had an incredibly talented film major directing and producing their video,” you joked. 

“No, you’re right. If I don’t get the scholarship after this, I might take it personally.”

“Oh, please,” you muttered quietly, “you’re too nice.”

“I’m not that nice, Y/N.” To your surprise, Minghao’s eyes hardened. You had never seen such an expression on his face, and it made your stomach instantly sink to your feet, but he bounced right back to his cheery self soon after. “I’ll walk you home after we submit these?” 

“Y-yeah.”

Minghao pulled his own laptop out of his bag while you copied the link to your video in Dropbox. You pasted the link into an email, but your finger hovered over the send button for far too long. Once it went through, you were officially done with this project; it no longer tied you to Minghao. 

You sucked in a breath and sent him the link.

You could only stare at your Canvas submission page. The link to your documentary was already pasted in; all you had to do was hit submit, but you felt so anxious. Maybe you missed one of the guidelines, or maybe you needed to watch it again, but you knew deep down that you replayed it several times and it was as close to perfection as you wanted it to be. 

“Hao, I’m scared. Let’s submit ours at the same time.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have anything to be scared of, but yeah, let’s do that.”

It took another thirty minutes for Minghao to prepare himself, though. He read over his application and essay again, handing it over to you afterward for a second look at it. When Seungcheol eventually entered the café for his shift, Minghao had him take a look at it, too. 

Finally, you and Minghao were both ready with your submissions. You both had your cursors hovering over the submit button just before he slipped his free hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ready?” he asked.

With the heat of a thousand suns burning your cheeks, you nodded eagerly. 

You submitted your film.

It felt like a truckload of weight had been lifted off your shoulders, but the feeling of relief didn’t come without the slight unease. You looked over at Minghao, who had just submitted his and was being clapped on the back by Seungcheol, and you felt weird. You felt so incredibly proud of yourself, but another part of you couldn’t accept that it was over now. 

“Hey,” Minghao said softly, grinning when your eyes met his. “We really did it.” 

You sort of melted under his gaze, the corners of your mouth hitching up into a lovesick smile. “Yeah, we did.”

With that, his hand slipped out of yours to tell his mother about finishing the scholarship application, and you felt cold again. 

Minghao offered to walk you home, but you could hardly hold a proper conversation with him; your head was a mess.

Maybe it was wrong for you to feel this way after your week of radio silence, but something about this felt so final. You were scared that once you reached your apartment, you would go back to the life you had before you reconnected with Minghao. As much as you told yourself that you were just overthinking, there was a nagging fear in the back of your head. Maybe it was from the high of submitting your project, but you felt a rush of adrenaline course through you.

You wanted to hold onto Minghao one more time and tell him how you felt. 

It had been on your mind ever since you had your revelation yesterday, and sitting next to him in the café and pretending like you weren’t mad for him was nearly impossible. As you two trudged down the cobblestone street, your hands balled into the pockets of your coat, you realized that something along the lines of a confession was ready to burst through your lips. Minghao kept droning on about a holiday-exclusive drink that was coming to the café, but you couldn’t even listen to him properly without your brain screaming at you to tell him how you felt. 

It was when he brought the conversation back to your documentary that you found the perfect opportunity to bring up the secret video he filmed. 

“We must’ve filmed hours of content,” he was saying, throwing his head back and groaning at the mere thought. “I can’t believe you watched all of it—wait, did you watch all of it?”

“I did watch everything, Hao,” you said quietly.

“Hm? What was that?”

“I knew that the injeolmi toast was supposed to be heated up,” you blurted out. Minghao froze in his tracks and stared at you, wide-eyed, and normally this would’ve made you shy away immediately, but you wanted to be braver. You stopped walking too, and you raised your head to meet his eyes. “I thought you forgot to warm it up by accident, so I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

At your sudden admission, Minghao was speechless, even more so when you continued in a breathless ramble, “And I want you to know that the only reason I chose this subject for my documentary was because of you; and I missed you all of last week because all I could think about was how you kissed me; and I really fucking hate summer, Hao, but you made me fall in love with the sun.”

“And… and I like you,” you confessed. “I liked you back in middle school, and I like you again now.”

Minghao’s jaw went slack as he searched your eyes, as if looking for a lie in your words, as if he could hardly believe that what you were telling him was real.

“Are you serious?” he asked quietly, almost scared that you would say no. He walked closer to you. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Your courage threatened to falter, but you kept his gaze even as he reached out to hold your face with gentle hands. “I’ve never been this honest in my life.” 

With a shuddering breath, he said, “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?” Although Minghao spoke in a murmur, your words died on your tongue the moment he started talking, especially after his eyes dropped to your lips.

You could only blink back at him in stunned silence.

“You were my first love, too,” he confessed.

His words struck you right in your chest. The winter bite no longer chilled you to the bone; if anything, a wildfire was ripping through your body. For a split second, you wondered if you were actually on fire, so you remained perfectly, unmovingly still until you realized that Minghao was waiting for you to answer.

You swallowed hard. “I was? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I guess I was scared it would ruin our friendship… but I didn’t do a very good job of salvaging it, anyway.” You could see the regret painted on his face, but then he steeled his nerves. “I don’t care if I don’t win the scholarship, Y/N—I mean, I sort of care—but no matter what happens, I’m happy just being with you.”

Your heart beamed.

Even days ago, the mention of your past with Minghao would’ve been a sore spot for you. Now, however, you didn’t want it to keep weighing you down like an anchor buried deep within the sand. Maybe you were both just stupid kids who didn’t know what to do with their feelings.

But all of that hardly mattered now that your souls found each other again. You weren’t ever someone who was big on the idea of destiny, but if there were stars out there that predetermined fate, they must have been shining for you and Minghao.

This time, you initiated. It was almost effortless how your arms found themselves circling around Minghao’s neck, drawing him closer to you. His eyes looked as if they were still in a dream, but after a few seconds, his gentle hands found your waist. 

“I’m happy as long as I’m with you, too,” you said, your voice only loud enough for him to hear. 

Minghao let out a breathless sort of laugh, almost like he was still in disbelief, and you smiled before pressing your lips to his. Compared to your first kiss, which was charged with lust and intoxication, this one was so loving and calm that you lost yourself in him so easily. He smiled into the kiss, and you couldn’t help yourself either once you felt his lips curve up against yours.

His hand found your chin, pulling away for a brief moment to take a good look at you. Let the high of your reciprocated feelings sink in. Your eyes flitted from Minghao’s lips to his twinkling eyes, your heart doing a series of backflips and spins when you saw his lips curl into a smirk.

“Yeah,” he said in a low voice, “I think I can get used to this.”

And when his lips found yours again, you were sure your souls touched, too. 

(“So, are you gonna tell me if I’m objectively good-looking now?” 

“Let it go, Hao.”)

EPILOGUE

Vernon scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know if I was tripping out, but I swear they just had us watch Kim Mingyu doing tricks on a skateboard for ten minutes straight.”

“I think that was an actual film.” Seungcheol looked through the pamphlet of student films that were being screened and read, “Kim Mingyu Does a Kickflip—yeah, that’s the one.”

“Whose bright idea was it to make us take Jun’s edibles?” Jeonghan, who was fitted in a formal suit and tie, complained as he slouched deeper in his seat. His eyes were a few shades too close to red to pass as sober, but he was at least able to function on his own. “This shit has to be laced with something.”

“This is your fault, dude,” Seungkwan replied, exasperated. He didn’t seem as faded as Jeonghan was, but he looked more like he had just woken up. “You told us this would be more fun if we got high!”

“Okay, and who listened to me?” He sat up to catch Seungkwan, Vernon, and Wonwoo’s guilty heads hanging shamefully. “Exactly.”

Yooyeon shot you a withering look. “They're stressing me out.”

It was the night of your film’s showcase. After you passed the class with flying colors, your professor recommended your documentary be screened during the showcase for all the film majors in your year. It was an annual event, but only a certain number of films were selected from the students. In short, this was big for you. You invited your friends, of course, although you were starting to regret it now that you had to put Seungcheol and Junhui in charge of babysitting them. 

“Jeonghan, you really didn’t have to dress up like that,” you said once you noticed the contrast between his formal attire and Seungkwan’s sweater and jeans ensemble. “This isn’t even a formal event.”

Jeonghan leaned over Seungcheol to tell you, “This is important to me, okay?”

“Aw, Jeong—”

“I have to be the hottest one here.”

Alright, then. 

“Jeonghan, remember what we’re actually here for,” Junhui prompted, motioning to the front of the theater. 

You put a hand over your chest, touched. “Jun, you’re too sweet, I—”

“To see Minghao’s gorgeous face on the big screen,” he finished.

You decided you were going to let them finish their sentences from now on. 

Minghao, who was sitting next to you and gripping your hand, raised your hands to press a kiss to each one of your knuckles. He saved his public displays of affection for rare occasions, such as your grand showcase.

You two had been dating for the past five months at this point. It wasn’t much of a surprise to any of your friends, but what did change was that Minghao spent a lot more time with your friend group now. (Sometimes you worried if they liked him more than you, but you weren’t one to vie for attention.) It was also safe to say that you two weren’t exactly out of the honeymoon phase yet. Your heart still fluttered whenever he did anything particularly sweet, and Minghao still went bright red whenever you were feeling a little bolder. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice tickling your skin. “You said your professor recommended submitting it to a film festival, right?”

“Mhm.” You grinned and used the hand he wasn’t holding to pinch his cheek lightly. “Your face could be seen by thousands.”

He laughed. “It’s really all about you, not—” Minghao paused when his phone buzzed from inside his pocket. You two exchanged a nervous look before he fumbled to pull it out. “I think it’s them.”

A week ago, the announcement of the scholarship recipient was supposed to be sent out. However, there was a complication that led to them postponing the results until today. You and Minghao had been on edge all week, but having to think about the outcome on the same day as your film showcase was nerve-wracking.

“It is them.” Minghao bit his lip when he saw the sender in his notifications. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand tighter. “I’m gonna open it now.”

With suspended breath, you tried to gauge his reaction as he opened the email. (It wasn’t very hard to read Xu Minghao’s expression when he wore his heart on his sleeve.) He took so long that you thought he was reading over each word twice, but then you watched as his expression morphed into one of pure astonishment.

“What is it?” you asked. “What does it say?”

“I…” He swallowed thickly. “I got it.” He turned to you again, mouth twitching into a grin. “I actually got it!”

Your life had been going so smoothly recently that the scholarship results had been plaguing your thoughts for the past few weeks. You didn’t have to worry about your project anymore, so saving the café and getting Minghao his chance to compete had been weighing heavily on your mind. 

Now, though, upon hearing those words and seeing his eyes light up, you felt like you were glowing yourself. They selected Minghao, and they watched your film. Your work was going to save his mom’s café. It was going to let him keep chasing his dreams. 

You let out a yelp so loud that dozens of heads turned in your direction, but you didn’t mind any of them as soon as you reached over your armrest to tackle Minghao into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I knew they’d pick you,” you told him. “There’s no one else who deserves it more.”

“It’s seriously all because of you,” he said. When you pulled apart, Minghao looked absolutely winded from being so overjoyed. “I have to tell my mom as soon as we get home. She’s gonna be so happy that we get to keep the café running.”

Jeonghan, who was brazenly eavesdropping, patted Seungcheol firmly on the chest. “Hear that? You just got saved from unemployment.” He reached over Seungcheol (again) to dap up Minghao. 

You felt someone tap your shoulder from behind, and you craned your neck around to see your professor gesturing for you to go up on stage. That was your cue to introduce your film, and you gulped down the bundle of nerves that rose up your throat. 

Yooyeon squeezed your shoulder as you were getting up. Shakily, you straightened up, smiling weakly when your friends started cheering obnoxiously loud for you. Minghao caught your wrist before you walked to the front and gave you a reassuring squeeze that managed to calm your jittery hands.

You recognized a lot of your friends from your classes, so it wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, but you were hopeful that the unfamiliar faces would be cheering for you by the time they saw your documentary. 

“We know her!” Jeonghan and Seungkwan were screaming from the top, pointing you out to every stranger in their vicinity. “That’s our friend!”

At the right wing of the stage, you were handed a mic and instructed to walk out to the center. You had never been in front of a crowd this huge, but seeing your friends in the seats melted away whatever fears were holding you back. 

“Thank you everyone for coming out today,” you spoke into the mic, smiling when it resounded throughout the grand auditorium. “My name’s Y/N, and I’m so excited to share my documentary: The Xu Minghao Dilemma.”

TAG LIST ▸ if you made it all the way here, thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed xu minghao's dilemma 💗 first and foremost, this was written for @junyangis so shoutout my film major inspo. i tried to emulate the film student experience to the best of my ability so i hope it delivers 🙏 also you might notice the banner has jeonghan as the writer which sort of sounds misleading but it's because he was the one orchestrating everything between mc and minghao, so i thought it was fitting :') first fic of 2025, yay!! i hope to share more of my works with you this year & sending my love to everyone reading this right now ♡ thank you to everyone who asked to be part of the tag list as well !! 🫂

TAG LIST ▸ @jenoentry @wonudazed @aaniag @ily-cuz-i @fancypeacepersona @tokitosun @jeonnyread @reiofsuns2001 @markleeloveletter @dawn-iscozy @fennecnco @kookiedesi @nijisanjigenshin @xylatox @cookiearmy @nightshadeblooming @sillyuin @outrologist @flowerrpwrr @melonacco @sknyuz @enhasrii @skzdesi

[reignpage]

Physics Tutor!Nanami

Conservation of momentum: if it's just us we can remain at a constant

Content: Friday night party, we're nearing the end y'all, mixed content of angst and fluff, a little sexual action but only if you squint Word Count: 3k Guide

“Nanami, seriously, you’re a grown man,” you mutter, a little annoyed. 

This isn’t how you expected to spend to your Friday night, wrangling a six-foot-tall man into his home but your ex-physics tutor came to a frat party and you had actually drank with him. Now you’re facing the consequences. 

Earlier in the night, the sight of Nanami in his cute blue sweater, sitting awkwardly as he eyed the couple making out next to him with disgust, was enough to warrant a heart attack. You had offered to drink with him in the garden, to take care of him so he could let loose. For an hour or two, you drank a couple shots, relishing the cool breeze which kept your head screwed tight as you sat beside him.

Gojo had passed by, wriggling his eyebrows at you and making lewd movements with his hands. That hadn’t gone by unnoticed by Nanami, who grew quiet. You thought maybe he was tired, maybe he wanted to go home, and when you suggested you part ways, he gripped your wrist. 

“No, don’t go with him,” he slurred. 

You didn’t have plans to go with your friend, you were just going to turn in for the night too, but as you looked at the man you’ve been madly in love with for months and saw his ruffled hair, slightly askew glasses, fogging up from the heat his face was producing, and the flush brightening his cheeks, you realised that there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

So, you stayed, sitting on the garden sofa with him. There were a couple other people loitering around, but none really paid any attention, everyone too immersed in their own conversations and lives to notice the two of you in the corner, thighs pressed together and shoulder brushing once in a while. 

His heat was permeating, tickling your side, and you couldn't help yourself, you leaned in close, the alcohol in your system made it so effortless to just let his gravitation pull bring you closer. If he noticed, he didn't say a thing.

You made small talk, discussing lectures and assignments. It was easy to talk to Nanami; other people were always so eager to prove themselves academically superior, never really listening to what you had to say, but rather looking for weak points to attack. It was never a conversation and instead a battlefield. And when you complained to your friends, they never seemed to understand.

With him, however, he listened more than he talked. Always. He hummed and nodded, mulling and considering your words carefully like what you had to say was just as important as anything an esteemed lecturer was teaching. With him, you felt like equals. Which was insane because he was Nanami Kento, and you were just the girl he had to tutor.

"I hate that bald Professor!" You groaned. "He's so boring."

He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "He is rather monotonous, I must admit. You aren't the first student to complain and likely will not be the last."

"Yeah, I bet. But I honestly just don't think he should be a lecturer. I'd probably be a better one than him."

Meeting your gaze, you see the crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the way they soften as they roam your face, stopping by your smile. His fingers twitch on the empty shot glass, skimming the rim just a little before he affirms, "I have no doubts you would be; I can't imagine anyone finding you boring."

Passing each other shot glasses, you'd sip and chat. Nothing about the elephant in the room, not about your confessions, about the odd tension permeating the relationship, certainly not about why he showed up to the party, or why he had become flirtatious. Perhaps it was cowardice that held you both back. Maybe it was the enjoyment of simply existing beside each other, not as classmates, not as tutor and student, and not as two people whose feelings have gotten all tied up.

But as just Nanami and y/n.

Eventually, you both ceased your chattering. Settling to watch the other partygoers or the stars twinkling. Once in a while, he'd point to a star and tell you about its story, and you'd sit entranced by his voice --it's so steady, so smooth and clear, you could listen to it for hours. And when he talked to you of astronomy and gravity and quantum mechanics and the probability of time travel, you thought he should be a lecturer. You'd attend every class, every seminar, and never complain.

"How do you know so much about stars? We don't get taught about constellations."

He lifted one shoulder. "I work at the Eden Observatory part-time."

It was so quintessentially Nanami you didn't question it even though you were bursting to ask. He would have given you all the answers you sought, you're sure by the way he gazes at you expectantly.

Silence passed by, comfortable and soothing. You had no idea what time it was, didn’t care enough to reach forward to get your phone from the table, and neither did Nanami. You thought maybe he was nodding off but when you peered up at him, he was looking down. 

At your hand. 

“C-can I hold it?” 

His voice was gravelly, a hesitation that you’d never heard from him. The way he was gazing down at your hand, limp on your lap, like it was precious, like it was made of glass, and he could be beheaded for daring to even look, made your stomach feel weird. It was the very feeling you had been trying to bury for weeks. 

It was dangerous. You’d been working so hard to walk away and he was erasing the line, stretching out his arms to invite you back over. Unwise was what letting him do as he pleased would be, and yet, you found yourself nodding. And when his own hands, warm and large, wrapped around one of yours, you couldn’t fight back the shiver that ran through you. 

He was holding you so softly, in a way no one ever has, and you could only gulp. It was as if you had entered enemy territory, foreign and riddled with land mines that could go off and blow everything up if you so as much as made the wrong step. When his thumb grazed your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat. 

“Nanami,” you began but his hand squeezed yours and you shut up.

Your ex-physics tutor was still staring at your hand, marvelling at the soft skin, his glasses slide down his nose just a little bit, and you had to push it up with your free hand. That caught his attention, as if remembering there was a person attached to the hand he was holding so carefully. 

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, clearly trying to get his bearings. “Y/n, please rethink your decision to drop out.”

“I can’t.” You pulled your hand out of his like it burned. And then you looked away, crossing your arms so you wouldn’t be tempted. “This is for the best.”

“No. You were doing so well, even Professor Yaga had said so.”

With a sigh, you turned back to him, finding his blush endearing. The longer you stared the more it threatened your defences. You couldn’t let him talk you out of it, your sister you could fight off, even Gojo, but not Nanami. Not when every word that came out of his mouth sounded like the Gospel, like undeniable, irrefutable facts. 

Standing, you brushed invisible dust off your skirt and looked anywhere but at him. Unsteady, you asserted, “Nanami, I’ll take you back.”

He shook his head, strands of his hair falling over his forehead, obscuring his vision. You brushed them off, so lush under your palm, and he looked up at you like you were an angel -- mouth slightly parted, he blew air in the space between you, eyes slightly glossy as he watched you. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He whispered, and then added, his brows furrowing, softening his gaze even further, “It hurts to look at you.”

You staggered back, arms falling to your sides as you gaped at him. You didn’t understand what that meant, what he was trying to say, nor why your heart was clenching so painfully, like someone had reached in and squeezed. 

“Maybe you can get your roommate to take you,” you whispered breathlessly.

Nanami shook his head once more, standing up too. His trousers were all crinkled and when he got to his feet he swayed slightly. You rushed over to his side, letting him lean against you. He was heavy, even as he carried most of his weight, and he smelled amazing. Clean, fresh and sweet. It reminded you of a bakery, just after closing, with the scent of butter and vanilla lingering in the air. 

“No, Haibara’s with his sister.” 

You both began walking, ignoring the staring and whistling people were throwing at you as they noticed both of your existence then. Some girls pointed to Nanami, no doubt recognising him from the List. They whispered amongst themselves, blushing and roving his body. You urged him to walk faster.

“Hey, hey, where are you two lovebirds going?” An irritating voice shouted. “You know my rules about fucking in the house. You have to pay a fee.”

Rolling your eyes, you informed him, “I’m taking Nanami home, he’s a little out of it.”

Gojo scanned your ex-tutor’s face, really looking at him and realising you were right. Suddenly, his grin dropped, and he was nodding to the front door. “Alright, I’ll drive. You seem out of it too.”

And just before you all left through the front door, he yelled to his deputy, “Don’t let the place burn down, it's a pain to deal with.”

The car ride to Nanami’s place passed in another relative silence, both of you in the back as you strapped him in, and your friend hummed to the songs on the radio, drumming his fingers. As obnoxious as Gojo could be, there were these rare moments of maturity and wisdom that people didn't see. But you did. You and Suguru, and these were the very moments that reminded you, no matter what, you would always find a home with him.

Parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt, reaching over the slightly light-headed man and unbuckled him too. His hand brushed your hair, gently, always so gentle. You refused to look at him.

“Let me know if you need a ride back,” Gojo threw at you, going on his phone as you fought to get your ex-tutor out, ignoring the glares you were directing towards him. His helpfulness had reached its max, clearly.

“No, she’s staying with me,” Nanami croaked. He slammed the door a little harder than necessary and you winced. Pointing a finger at Gojo through the rolled down window, he slurred, “You can go.”

Not taking any offence whatsoever, the frat president grinned and winked at you. “Alright, have fun, babes. Wrap it before you tap it. Or not. I'm pretty ready to be a fun uncle.”

And then he was driving off, leaving you crumpling under the weight of your responsibility with your jaw on the floor. That prick. Oh, you were so going to make him pay. 

By some miracle, you made it up to his floor with Nanami's jumbled directions, and now here you are, muttering irritated complaints about how clumsy this grown man is despite his age and wisdom.

“Seriously? Nanami, I told you to get it before we reach your door!”

You’re watching Nanami dig through his pockets for his keys, pink tinting the tip of his ears, either with embarrassment or with the warmth of the alcohol. He’s fumbling, muttering curses under his breath as he struggles, clumsy fingers catching on each other. You groan and swat his hands away, trying to get a feel for his keys through his trousers instead. 

This is not your first time dealing with drunk men. But it is your first time with a man as adorable as he is, unfortunately.

“Are you mad at me?”

Glancing up, you look at him, exasperated and unprepared for the pout on his face. His glasses are slanted again, and you have no free hands to push them back up — one hand is already holding him up and the other is buried in his pocket searching for his keys and trying to get past the lip balm in there. 

"No, Nanami. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed." You hate that you sound just like your mother, but someone has to be the responsible one. You just never thought it'd ever be you.

He winces. “Please, be careful.”

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Nanami flushes harder, the tips of his ears matching and he avoids eye contact, stilling your wrist with a firm hand. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…”

You follow his gaze, both of you looking down and seeing something that shouldn’t be happening. You blink, cartoon character style. This is so very bad. 

Taking a deep breath, you pull the keys out and mutter weakly, “Found it.”

Once you’re inside, you pull Nanami with you, eyeing his place and appreciating the cleanliness; your place is not nearly as tidy as his. But you do see a messy arrangement of papers on his table. You can imagine a busy Nanami, sitting on the sofa, going over the papers and reading out loud under his breath. You smile.

“Alright, big guy. Where’s your room?”

“Buy me dinner first,” he chuckles to himself. He slumps down on the sofa, the leather creaking under his weight and he shrugs off his sweater, the shirt underneath riding up to reveal his abs. You look away. 

Oh, so the man has jokes. 

You’re fighting the urge to walk away and with a shaky breath, full of frustration, you very calmly say, “Nanami, it’s late, sweetheart. You’re going to need to go to bed, okay?”

Then he’s smiling up at you, a gummy smile that’s so dopey you can’t help but smile with him. 

“I like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I like when you call me sweetheart. Do it again.”

Counting to ten, you try again, “Okay, Nanami. I’ll call you sweetheart when you get in bed. It’s a reward.”

He mouths it back, tasting the word and that seems to resonate with him. Raising a hand out, he’s urging you to help him up and so you step forward, ready to bear his weight again, but then you’re being yanked down, and the world turns upside down. 

Nanami’s pinned you to the sofa, leaning over you with a fierce look in his eyes. Gone is the nerdy lightweight, and in his place is the man you’ve caught glimpses of. The one that furrows his brown in a stern scolding, that scribbles frantically on his papers and argues with the professors. Suddenly, he no longer looks his age and instead, appears not as a clumsy college student, but rather as a man. 

The kind of man that could command the attention of an entire room. 

“You did this to me,” he gestures to his hard on, the very same one you’ve been avoiding staring too long at. “Take responsibility, won’t you, darling?”

You choke on your own saliva. What the fuck?

Shaking your head, you remind yourself, he’s drunk, you’re no longer his student, and you’ve been a pain in his ass the entire time. Don’t take anything he says whilst under the influence to heart. It’s just chemicals in his brain. Just a biological urge. It means nothing. 

“Nanami, you’re drunk, let’s drink some water, okay?”

“Four shots is barely anything. I might be a lightweight, but I’m tipsy at most,” he scoffs. Leaning down, he grazes your cheek with his nose, inhaling deep with a groan. “You always smell so good.”

He might claim to be sober enough, but you’re not convinced. Sure, you can’t deny that you want him, but you don’t want him like this; you don’t want to be wanted because the alcohol has clouded his judgment. You want to be seen, as you are and not just another warm body to pass the time. 

Slowly, gently and with as much patience as you can muster, you nudge his head from your neck, and say, “You need to let me go, Nanami.”

“No.”

“Nanami.”

“I don’t want you to leave me.” That gravelly voice is back, the one weighed down by some inner turmoil you aren’t privy to, and you can only bite your lip when he presses a tender kiss at the crook of your neck. “I want you any way you’ll let me.”

You’re tearing up. It might be because he’s whispering it right by your ear or because his words sound so sincere, but you feel your bottom lip quiver. This isn’t how the night was supposed to go; you wanted to let loose and forget everything by partying life away, but now you’re practically cuddling with your physics tutor. Ex physics tutor.

Despite being a little out of it and shaking with some unknown emotion, he isn’t suffocating you with his weight. He’s holding himself up in a plank, inhaling your scent and fighting off your weak pushes. 

“Please, Nanami. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“You promise?” He lifts his head, lashes fluttering as he searches your features for any hint of deception. “You’re not going to avoid me?”

You shake your head, and he sighs, smiling. 

“Good, because I really don’t like it when you do that.”

And then he’s pushing off. A cool breeze brushes past you and you’re shivering from the sudden loss of warmth. Nanami disappears into a room you’re assuming is his and you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you enter his room, he’s only in his boxers, climbing into bed. 

He lifts the cover up and pats the empty space beside him, grumbling, “Come on, I’m cold.”

You sigh, ripping the cover from his hands and tuck him in. “No, Nanami. I’m not sleeping with you. I’m going now so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Almost breaking out into laughter at the scowl that graces his face, you have to distract yourself by pulling his glasses off and folding them onto his bedside table. Like this, he looks so youthful. No longer frowning over data variables or anomalistic lab results, he’s just lying peacefully. 

"You aren't better off taking a different course. You work well under my tutelage. Grant me the opportunity to change your mind about everything. Let me show you I didn't mean the things I said," he pleads, eyes flutterings shut.

Hesitant, you say, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Nanami."

"Just one chance, y/n. Don't cross this off simply because we reached a bump. You trusted my guidance before, trust me now."

You don't know what exactly he's referring to and you're too scared to ask. All you can do is watch sincerity, a raw kind of pleading, swirl in his vibrant eyes. He has you in his palms and he doesn't even realise.

"Okay."

He’s fast asleep when you leave. 

You don’t bother Gojo for a ride back to your home, you texted him your sister's picking you up. She might be asleep by now but you'll wake her up anyways, so you can tell her about everything that's happened and ask for her two cents, because you think Nanami practically confessed his feelings for you. But that doesn’t make sense with all that’s unfolded, right?

How could he possibly like a girl like you?

You’re loud, boisterous, air-headed, and not the kind of girl one takes home to their mother. He deserves a girl that’s as smart, as put together, and mature and wise as he is. Deserves one that hasn’t been tainted by bad decision and nightmares.

Sighing again — you’ve been doing a lot of that lately — you walk home, in the dark, fighting the urge to look back. And as the night’s chill prick your skin, you wonder how Nanami will feel in the morning. 

Embarrassment, shame, humiliation?

Whatever it’ll be, you just hope it isn’t regret. 

You have enough of that for the both of you.

[inbabylontheywept]

Babylon and the Duck of Butter

I have a gift for falling in love with random objects. One time, my aunt got me a little rubber chicken, and whenever I squoze it, a little egg thing popped out. Very silly. Except that chicken became something like my best friend. I carried it with me to school, and I kept it with me in my pocket, and whatever social hazards there were about Being The Guy Who Got Stressed Whenever His Rubber Chicken Was Missing were far outweighed by being The Guy Who ALWAYS Had a Rubber Chicken On Him. There's a lot of comedic opportunity that comes with always having a good prop on your person.

Of course, the chicken did eventually. Explode. And such was my grief that I did not eat for 36 hours. This was very stressful for many people. Mostly my mom. I was a very strange child to work with. She took parenting so incredibly seriously, and then I'd pitch her these curve balls like refusing to eat for a day and a half because my rubber chicken died. No parenting book tells you what to do when that happens. You just have to feel it in your heart.

A less tragic story of an object that I fell in love with was a large, foam toad that I found in a trinket shop. The toad was the size of a very large grapefruit. Much too large to carry with me to school (thank god) but enough that I could move it around the house, to keep me company during my solitary pursuits. If I was reading, the toad was there, and if I was tinkering with legos, the toad was there, and even when I slept, I would wrap the toad up in layers and layers of blankets, and then spoon it. I did this until the rubber coating on the foam started to wear out, and the foam started to get brittle and break down and leak this repulsive yellow powder. Then I simply put the toad in the playroom and would consult it on matters of great importance. Eventually I stopped doing that, and someone took the opportunity to dispose of it. Not sure who. By the time I noticed its absence, too much time had passed for me to actually be sad. As an adult, part of me thinks I would have maybe liked burying the toad, but part of me also thinks I might have refused to part with the toad, which would have resulted in it leaking more repulsive yellow powder into the house. So I understand why that decision was made. 

I want to state that this does not happen often, and it does not happen on purpose. I don't choose to fall in love with random objects. And it's always a little bit embarrassing when it happens. 

Which brings me to my wife. 

Before meeting my wife, I did not often go to places with crowds. I didn't really think of it as avoiding them - those places just didn't seem fun to me. But she liked those places, and I really liked her, and being with someone who really likes something can kind of sell you on liking it too, so I'd take her to places and watch her Visibly Enjoy the Fair and go: Alright. The fair is pretty sweet.  

Which is a thing that happened. After fourish months of dating, I took her to the fair. And she fell very visibly in love with a large series of quilts, and she stayed near them for a while, which she thought was very embarrassing, and I got to pretend to be understanding as an outsider, because I thought it would be much more impressive than also being the type of person that would fall in love with a quilt. 

Do not do this. The gods punishment for my hubris was that the room next to the quilts was full of butter sculptures, which was an entirely new thing to me, and I immediately fell embarrassingly in love with all of them. It was like the biggest, sappiest non-sexual crush you've ever had, but not only did the other person not recipropcate, they could not, because they were made of butter. I actually got yelled at for pressing my face against the glass, which is fair, but also, I hadn't realized I was pressing my face on the glass, I just started leaning forward because after approximately 30 minutes of staring wistfully at a cow made of butter my legs got tired. And I think I should be given some grace for that.

Anyway. My wife was very patient with me taking more time to look at the butter sculptures than the average person might spent at the Louvre, and she also felt much less embarrassed over falling in love with a quilt, and we had a good laugh about it on the ferris wheel. 

A few weeks after that was my birthday. And I don't know what I expected, exactly - but I did not expect what she did. 

Dear reader, she made me a butter sculpture. Of a duck.

She picked a duck, because our first kiss was at a Japanese friendship garden. It was our second date, and she'd made up her mind not to do any kissing until the third date, but as we sat on the grass, a duck walked past me, and I'd just seen the hold-duck-gentle-like-hamgurber meme,

so I sort of impulsively reached out and snatched it. I honestly didn't think it would work. I don't know who was more flabbergasted, me or the duck. But we looked at each other, and then I looked at her, and then she looked at the duck, and she looked so incredibly envious that I assumed that must have wanted the duck so I just handed it to her.

It turned out she was actually envious of the ability to just grab a duck as it walked by, but she accepted the duck and stroked it a few times before releasing it. (She also made up her mind to kiss me in that moment, which was very nice.)  

Anyway.

She made me a butter duck of my own. Obviously, I fell in love with it immediately. I cleared out all of the freezer-portion of my mini fridge, and I put the duck in there, and for the next several months, when I felt sad, or lonely, I would open the door up and spent some quality time. Just me and my duck.

But this is, of course, not the end of the story. 

Because.

After several months. 

The mini fridge died. 

I really didn't use it that often. It was mostly my duck storage container. But one day, I walked by it, and it struck me that it wasn't humming. So I opened the door, and it was just. Far, far too late. The duck was dead. Dead dead. Turned into a foul-smelling slime dead. 

I cried. I did. After the rubber chicken thing, I thought I had changed, but I had not changed, and the unexpected death of my butter buddy left me pretty shook. I texted my then-girlfriend now-wife about how sad I was, and she actually came over to help me say goodbye. We didn't even bother scraping the duck out of the mini-fridge, we just said our goodbyes to both and threw them together in the nice dumpster behind the chapel, because it seemed appropriate to put it in God's dumpster. And it did actually help quite a bit. I certainly did not go 36 hours without eating again. 

And that was, for some time, the end of the butter duck. 

However. Three (or four?) years ago, for my birthday, my wife was looking around thrift stores. And she found something interesting. 

The original butter duck had an odd pose. She'd sculpted it laying flat, intending to raise it up later. But the butter was less flexible than she thought, and she was afraid of cracking it so she left it down which left the duck with a very elongated, very in-motion appearance. And she found a brass statue of a duck in the same, running posture.

It wasn't the original. But it was oddly on the nose. It was a yellow brass, it had the same strange posture, the same crude little face feathers. 

I think it was $3, but it remains perhaps the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I got very choked up when I unwrapped Butter Duck, The UnDying. 

Pic provided.

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 12

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 15 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

When Sukuna and you enter the university holding hands, you know the news will spread fast. You can't help but wonder what kind of gossip people will share about the two of you. After all, Sukuna isn't just anybody but the star player of the most successful ice hockey team this college has had in many decades. And on top of that, he is infamous for being the guy who doesn't date.

Well, things have changed.

You smile softly as you lean into Sukuna's side, resting your head against his buff biceps and feeling his large hand give yours a reassuring squeeze. He is acting his usual self, strutting down this hallway as if he owns it, head held high, arrogant smirk perfectly in place, fixing the people around you with a condescending stare.

But he doesn't even try to keep your new relationship low-key or hide it from the public eye. It makes your stomach flutter as you stroll down the hallway and Sukuna never lets go of your hand. You reach your classroom and Sukuna grins his most charming grin before he leans down to kiss you on the lips, right there in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see.

It's a lingering, slow kiss, leaving no doubt about what it means. Sukuna's large tattooed hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, flicking his tongue teasingly against yours before he slowly pulls away with that typical sexy smirk on his handsome face,

"Have fun in class, princess. And don't forget your lunch date with your boyfriend."

He grins at you, the tip of his tongue playing with one of his sharp canines as he watches you with an amused but also intense look.

Boyfriend.

Hearing Sukuna say that word makes your tummy fill with butterflies. A breathless chuckle escapes your lips,

"As if I would ever forget my boyfriend. But just to make sure, why don't you pick your girlfriend up from class?"

You grin up at Sukuna with a racing heart, delighted to see his Adam's apple bob and his long lashes flutter for a moment. You don't seem to be the only one who gets flustered by the use of that new name.

Sukuna's large hand lands on your head, ruffling your hair, before he finally pulls away with a wink and tells you to hurry up so your professor won't have a reason to berate you today.

You have your little lunch date a few hours later, sitting at your usual table, Sukuna's table, eating and chatting about Sukuna's upcoming game and your creative writing class.

Things feel like they always do. There is no big change in the way you act around each other. The two of you follow the same routine you already developed gradually during the last few months since Sukuna came into your life.

It makes you realize just how natural it has already become to be by Sukuna's side almost all the time. Even before you got together, you already met on campus every morning, chatting and joking around while Sukuna walked you to your classes, carrying your heavy books and ruffling your hair. You already went to lunch together all the time, and later on, met in the library to study and eat the snacks Sukuna prepared, your hands brushing over each other when you reached into the snack box at the same time.

Everything is still the same, but, at the same time, it isn't. Because now, Sukuna holds your hand as you walk down the hallway. Now he kisses you openly, not just behind closed doors or when he's drunk, but in the middle of the crowded hallway. And at lunch, he holds your hand on top of the table, his long tattooed fingers absentmindedly playing with yours while he complains about one of his teammates.

And you rest your chin on your other hand, watching your boyfriend with a dreamy smile, thinking to yourself that somehow it feels as if it was always meant to happen this way.

Nobara is very smug about your relationship update. She found out about it the day after your date in the hockey arena because she walked in on Sukuna and you sharing a deep kiss in the living room. She made a disgusted noise and banged her door shut again, but when Sukuna left an hour later to go to the gym, Nobara cornered you immediately, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed in front of her chest, a triumphant grin on her face,

"So, you and Kirby, huh? I knew it!"

You shrugged helplessly, unable to stop the big smile from spreading over your face when you admitted,

"Well, I guess you saw it coming sooner than I did."

Right now, she's lounging lazily on the couch, waving around her fingers to let her nail polish dry while watching you with a knowing look as you check reflection a few times too often in the mirror next to the front door.

"Are you seeing loverboy? Not that I am complaining, by the way. I prefer it when you visit him, so I don't have to see his stupid face."

You huff loudly, turning around to give her a stern look,

"Nobara! Sukuna can actually be really nice! If you would get to know him better, then.."

But Nobara interrupts you, laughing and rolling her eyes,

"I'm just teasing you. I don't mind. Just make sure he doesn't drink all the milk when he's staying here."

With that, she turns around again, lifting her freshly manicured hands in front of her face, inspecting her work, and you stand there with a grin spreading over your face. Maybe Sukuna is growing on your dormmate after all.

"There's a hockey party at our dorm tomorrow."

Sukuna is lying on his bed with one buff arm behind his neck, cat-like maroon eyes watching you lazily, and a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face. He looks so good that it should be illegal. Only wearing his stupid low-sitting grey sweats, so his buff pecs and taut abs are on full display. You don't even know where to look. There is just so much of him, big and broad and so gorgeous with all those muscles and the smooth tattooed skin everywhere.

You have to forcibly shake yourself out of staring at Sukuna with heart-eyes, but when you manage it, you raise an eyebrow teasingly,

"So what are you trying to tell me with that info, Kuna? That we can't see each other tomorrow?"

Sukuna rolls his pretty eyes, his lips lifting in an equally teasing and amused grin,

"Don't play clueless, sweetheart. You know damn well why I'm telling you that."

You grin at Sukuna, leaning closer to him, playfully blinking at him and batting your lashes,

"Hmmm, maybe you have to spell it out for me, baby."

A low, raspy laugh falls from Sukuna's mouth, and he reaches out with his free hand, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb slowly over your lower lip. His intense maroon gaze never leaves you when he whispers in that sexy low drawl,

"I want you to accompany me to that party. Or, to make things even clearer for you, I want you to be my date. Now, what do you say, princess?"

You feel a bit light-headed from the fluttery feeling in your stomach that Sukuna's words cause. Asking you out on your first official date. You can't stop grinning as you nod, pressing a little kiss to Sukuna's thumb that's still resting on your lower lip,

"I say yes."

Your grin turns into a surprised squeal when Sukuna's arms wrap around you and pull you on top of him.

You enter the party on Sukuna's arm and instantly feel intimidated. The apartment is much bigger than Sukuna's and Yuuji's, and the whole place is bustling with people.

You tried to reassure yourself beforehand that this is just a regular college party. But now that you are here, you can't deny anymore, what you already knew deep down. This isn't just a normal college party. It's the kind of party you have never been invited to before.

The large apartment is filled with only the most popular people the campus has to offer. Admired athletes, popular jocks, and just as popular cheerleaders, beautiful sorority girls, and rich daughters and sons of all kinds of important people.

It's a crowd you aren't used to. A crowd that is very good at excluding people like you, who aren't considered anything special in their eyes. Just a boring creative writing student whose name no one has heard before.

Technically, you know that not all of the popular people are like that. Most of Sukuna's teammates are really ok, and the girls in your classes who are also athletes are nice, too. Even Gojo Satoru was easy to get along with when you interviewed him.

But tonight, the large apartment is bustling with people you have never talked to before, and their heads instantly snap to you as Sukuna and you enter the party. Their stares make your stomach clench nervously. You can imagine how Sukuna and you must look to them: The star player of the hockey team, the King of the Ice, and next to him the nameless girl, who is clinging nervously to his large hand while her heart beats up to her throat.

You feel Sukuna's thumb caresses your wrist lightly. A sweet, reassuring gesture that makes you let out the breath you had unconsciously been holding. Sukuna leans down to murmur in your ear,

"Don't be nervous, princess. Just focus on me. Those insects don't even deserve your attention."

You laugh at his words, grateful for how he makes you feel more at ease. Sukuna flashes you one of his most charming smiles and gently tugs you along into the kitchen, where the whole hockey team is gathered, all cheering and whistling loudly when their star player enters. Sukuna returns all the high fives and takes a shot glass from the huge tray that Todo is passing around.

Just when you want to take a step back so the players can drink together, Sukuna's strong arm stops you, keeping you right there by his side. Todo and Yuuji join you, offering you a vodka shot because "You are Sukuna's lucky charm, so you count as an honorary team member!"

You burst out laughing, smiling gratefully at them as you lift your glass to join in on the player's toast. The small room keeps getting fuller as more people come looking for the hockey players, and Sukuna grins at you and lifts you up, setting you on the kitchen counter so he can stand between your legs. His tattooed face comes closer to yours, maroon eyes gazing deeply into yours, and your pulse races. Your hand cups Sukuna's cheek right when his lips brush over yours.

Sukuna's kiss makes your head spin with the way he licks into your mouth and how his large hands wrap around your waist while he pushes his body between your legs.

The rest of the party is far from your mind when you have Sukuna's tongue in your mouth, but unfortunately, you can't make out the whole evening. Sukuna's teammates demand his presence, and you need to go to the bathroom. So you excuse yourself, smiling when Sukuna ruffles your hair before you walk out of the kitchen.

This time, you feel more at ease when you enter the living room, an effect of the alcohol and Sukuna's kisses. But only after a few steps, you feel the atmosphere shift again. The scrutinizing gazes are back.

Spending time with Sukuna on campus already put you in the spotlight, but that felt different somehow. Maybe because a few days ago, you were just the mysterious girl who sometimes walked next to him or the lucky charm he brought to his games. Maybe you seemed like no competition. Like no one important. Just another little fling. Just another replaceable puck bunny. But now you are the girl who took the star player of the ice hockey team off the market, and everyone seems to ask themselves how you managed to do that. It feels as if you get put under a microscope, inspected curiously, and every flaw is analyzed and frowned upon.

You try to ignore the murmurs and stares, even while internally, a storm is brewing in you. Self-doubts mix with anger and dig their claws into your heart. You are relieved when you reach the bathroom and can lock yourself in it, escaping from the gazes and murmurs for at least a few minutes.

You take your time washing your hands, letting the ice-cold water run over your wrists as you look at your face in the mirror.

Come on, don't be stupid. It's just a party. Let them talk. They are just curious because Sukuna has never brought a date before. Just get back to the kitchen and enjoy the rest of the evening!

You steel yourself, straightening up before you open the door and exit the bathroom again.

"Does she really believe she has what it takes to be the girl at Sukuna's side?"

"Right? Sukuna is way out of her league. Who is she even?"

You draw in a sharp breath as your eyes meet the ones of the two girls talking shit about you. They don't even look guilty for getting caught but just stare at you with a scornful expression.

You want to get away from here! Your first instinct is to flee into Sukuna's strong arms, but a wall of football players who are raising their beer bottles and toasting each other is blocking your way. Your gaze lands on the door leading to the balcony. Before you even think about it, your feet carry you towards it.

You step onto the large balcony, deeply inhaling the crisp night air as if you are drowning. You grip the railing tightly, looking at the dark sky above you, internally screaming at yourself to stop being so stupid! Why do you let that random gossip affect you?

You know they were just talking shit. You know Sukuna better than they do! You know what the two of you have is real. But hearing those words still bugs you. They feed the demon inside you that whispers to you that maybe you are really not good enough to be the woman by Sukuna's side. Tears prick at your eyes, but you clench them shut, refusing to cry.

But before you can spiral further, a familiar low, velvety voice speaks up behind you,

"What are you doing out here, princess?"

The tight grip of your hands around the balcony railing loosens when you feel Sukuna's muscular arms wrap around you. You instantly relax into his embrace, leaning against his tall, firm body, chiding yourself silently for letting those judgemental gazes and mean comments get to you and fill your mind with doubts.

"I just needed some fresh air."

You feel Sukuna's warm breath on your neck when he laughs his sexy, low laugh. His lips brush over your neck, and then they open, and his hot tongue glides teasingly over your sensitive skin, making your pulse race and butterflies dance in your belly. You are about to get lost in Sukuna's closeness, in his touch, in the warmth of his buff body, and the feeling of his lips on you, but he is too perceptive, analyzing you too closely.

"Tell me what's wrong, princess."

His arms tighten around you, and he nuzzles his warm lips against your neck,

"You suddenly bolted from the room. Right when I was about to come over to you. Are you feeling sick or something? Do you need me to bring you home? I'll do it, you know that, right? Fuck that boring party. Let's go and get you into bed and watch some trash TV we can make fun of."

Your heart clenches. He is so sweet to you. So caring. It's something you never thought a guy like Sukuna could be. It makes you feel even more guilty for being so affected by some rude comment a stranger said. And so you blurt out the truth,

"I just...I heard some people say something that upset me."

You can feel Sukuna tense up behind you. His voice sounds strained when he asks,

"What did they say?"

"That you're out of my league."

Sukuna huffs. He puts his hands on your hips, turning you around. A large hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so you look up at your boyfriend's tattooed face. The usual playfulness is gone from Sukuna's features, replaced by a serious look.

"They are wrong, princess. I am not out of your league. If anything, it's the other way around."

You are about to say something to him, contradicting him, asking him how he could ever think you are out of his league, but Sukuna puts a long tattooed finger on your lips and shakes his head,

"Listen, princess. I don't give a fuck about anyone's popularity. I play hockey to win, not because I want to be some college celebrity. I despise the people who just want to be with me because they think they can gain some advantage from it. Fuck them! I invited you because when you're with me, everything is better. I want you here. You are my girl. I like having you by my side, and I am proud of showing you off. You make this stupid party 100% better for me, and if anyone gave you the feeling you don't belong here, I have something to say to them."

Your heart feels so full that you can't help but smile from ear to ear. Sukuna's lips lift in his lopsided, handsome smirk when he intertwines his long fingers with your smaller ones and watches you while he jerks his tattooed chin towards the door,

"Come on, let's go back. I have to show my face for a while longer to support my team. And you have a job to do, too, Miss. You're my lucky charm, after all. It's literally in your job description to be by my side. I might get into an accident otherwise, break a leg or some shit like that and not be able to play for weeks. We can't let that happen. Surely you understand. Now give me a kiss."

You laugh at the playful words, reaching out to put your hands on Sukuna's defined pecs, bracing yourself on his chest as you get on your tiptoes to give him a sweet little kiss on the lips before you let him lead you back into the living room.

When you were making your way through the living room on your own, you struggled to find a path through the crowd, but now you are on Sukuna's arm, and Sukuna doesn't have that problem. Anyone who sees him steps aside, making room for him. And the ones who don't see him coming get shoved to the side by Sukuna's tall, muscular body.

There's a group of guys to your left who look your way. One of them turns his head to say something to his friend. You don't catch it, but you feel Sukuna tense up beside you.

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he lets it drop, and before you can ask what's going on, Sukuna is already on the guy who grinned at you, his hands twisted in the guy's shirt, slamming him brutally into the wall behind him as if they are on the ice, and Sukuna is slamming an opponent into the boards.

A loud murmur goes through the crowd. People jump to the side, and others come closer. You see Yuuji's pink hair and hear Todo's booming voice. But all of that seems far away from you. Your focus is only zoomed in on your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend, who is glaring at the guy who apparently must have said something about you. The guy is looking at Sukuna with wide eyes, trying to splutter some excuse for whatever he said, but Sukuna shakes his head, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading over his tattooed face as he pushes the guy into the wall once more.

Contrary to Sukuna's physical force, his voice is calm, though. Deadly calm. Cooing at the guy tauntingly as a cruel smirk spreads over Sukuna's face,

"You're really fucking insane, aren't you? Daring to insult my girlfriend. Acting so tough when, in reality, you are such a pathetic little guy. Apologize to her."

Adrenaline is sizzling in your veins. Seeing Sukuna like that is making you feel light-headed. A mix of worry and strange pride and arousal flows through you. You know Sukuna has that bad boy reputation, but this is the first time you see him attack someone off the ice. It's actually fucking hot. Especially when he's doing it for you.

The guy stammers an apology, squirming in Sukuna's tight grip and trying to shake him off, but he doesn't stand a chance against the force that is Itadori Sukuna. His friends don't come to his rescue either. All of them are cowering a few feet away, apparently not wanting to get on Sukuna's bad side.

Sukuna slams him against the wall once more, his tone cold and dangerous,

"Let me spell it out for you and everyone else. She's my girlfriend. She belongs to these parties. She belongs everywhere where I belong, too. Do you understand that?"

Sukuna cocks his head, smirking that dangerous smirk, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement.

The guy nods hurriedly, eyes wide with fear,

"Yes! Yes, of course!"

And Sukuna laughs, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper,

"Now get the fuck out of my sight. I give you ten seconds. And if I ever get wind of you talking shit about my girl again, I will fuck up your whole life."

He lifts his head to let his narrowed maroon eyes scan the room slowly,

"And that goes for every single one of you."

You could hear a pin drop in the large room. The whole room is either staring at Sukuna or looking anywhere but at him, too intimidated to look at the enraged King of the Ice.

Sukuna yanks the guy off the wall and pushes him into the middle of the room, sending him stumbling into his friends, who catch him while Sukuna watches with a raised eyebrow,

"What are you still doing here, scum? I told you to run. Do I really have to start counting as if we are in kindergarten? Ten. Nine..."

It doesn't take more. The guy scrambles to his feet and practically bolts from the party, followed by his friends, accompanied by the loud booing and laughter coming from the hockey team.

Sukuna is by your side again, the cruel smirk replaced by the boyish grin you have grown so fond of. He wraps a strong arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him. His touch is so gentle, so completely different from the way he just treated the guy who talked shit about you.

"Sorry that you had to see this. But I had to be an asshole real quick. I won't let anyone disrespect you."

"It's ok. You are a very sexy asshole."

You tilt your head to grin up at Sukuna, and he meets your gaze with an amused sparkle in his maroon eyes. His arms tighten around you, and he leans down to claim your lips in a heated kiss. Making out with you in the middle of the crowded living room, letting everyone see that you are his girl.

Your eyes close, and you sigh, kissing Sukuna back eagerly, drowning in his closeness, adrenaline flowing through your veins after seeing him be so protective over you and seeing him display his affection for you in front of everyone.

Sukuna doesn't leave your side for the rest of the evening. You have some more vodka shots, get some snacks from the kitchen, and join Yuuji and Todo on the couch to chat with them about hockey and your classes and laugh about the time you were their getaway driver after they destroyed their rival teams' ice sculpture.

Sukuna pulled you onto his lap at some point, and you stayed right there, basking in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you, his warm lips occasionally trailing little kisses over your neck, and the firm muscles of his chest and abs rippling against your back anytime he laughs.

The fluttery feeling in your tummy doesn't go away the whole evening, and it even intensifies when Sukuna gives his brother and Todo high fives and tells them he and you are leaving.

Sukuna steers you out of the apartment with a strong hand on the small of your back while he walks behind you, close enough for you to feel his tall, broad body.

You walk down the staircase next to each other with one of Sukuna's arms thrown over your shoulder. Sukuna's and Yuuji's apartment is just two floors down the staircase, but before you even reach it, Sukuna has already pulled a battered cigarette pack out of his jeans pocket and lights a cigarette while his arm is still around you, making you stumble against him. He takes a deep drag and groans in satisfaction as the nicotine fills his lungs.

"Fuck, I needed that after that stupid party."

You laugh and shake your head, wordlessly pointing at the big no-smoking sign plastered to the wall right next to Sukuna. He smirks at you, raising an eyebrow as he slowly blows out the smoke,

"Who is gonna stop me? At least I'm not smoking in our apartment, so my dear brother won't throw things at me."

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation and wrap a hand around Sukuna's biceps, pulling on his arm,

"Come on, big boy, let's go outside for a while so you can smoke without getting in trouble, and I can get some fresh air. I need it too after that party."

"You're so cute, princess."

Sukuna smirks teasingly at you, but he obeys and lets you pull him down the stairs and out of the dorm.

The two of you stand on the pavement before the building, hugging closely while Sukuna smokes slowly, blowing the smoke in your face with a teasing smirk and watching you with his cat-like gaze. You sigh and roll your eyes but only snuggle closer against him, your arms wrapped around him, nails running up and down his broad back, gently scratching him as you let Sukuna's secondhand smoke and his warm embrace and the smell of his cologne calm your nerves.

It's suddenly easy again. Peaceful. Joking around with Sukuna, rolling your eyes playfully at him, and laughing with him. The party seems miles away. All that exists is Sukuna and you.

The circles he moves in are still foreign to you, but it doesn't matter, you realize. When it comes down to it, all that matters is just you and him and this thing between you. This strong connection that feels so natural and magnetic.

Of course, you say yes when Sukuna flicks his cigarette to the ground and asks if you will spend the night at his apartment. He takes your hand, intertwines his long fingers with yours, and gently tugs you along, leading you back up the staircase to his apartment, making your tummy flutter with the way his thumb is caressing your wrist.

Sukuna unlocks the door, and his lips are on yours the moment you enter the apartment. His muscular arms swoop you up, carrying you to his room, his large, calloused hands undressing you while his tongue licks slowly into your mouth. And you moan his name, slipping your hands under his shirt, pulling it up, caressing Sukuna's warm tattooed skin, running your fingers over his defined muscles, smiling when he growls into your mouth.

The two of you tumble onto the bed, never breaking the kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as you yank at your clothes. Sukuna is naked before you and gets to work on pulling your jeans and your panties off, his hands running down your legs, followed by his soft lips, making your hips buck needily, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, tugging on it, pulling him to you, needing more of him. Needing him closer. Needing all of him.

His low chuckle sends a pleasure-filled shiver down your spine as he pushes you down on the mattress. Sukuna's tall, broad figure covers you fully, his weight traps you under him in the most delicious way. His lips find yours again in another slow, deep, wet kiss. You feel his hard cock rub against your belly, hot and velvety, making you wrap your legs around Sukuna's hips in your need to get him inside you, moaning into his mouth, your hands in his hair, your body arching needily up against his buff body.

You are so wet for him just from kissing him, making Sukuna groan breathlessly when his cock slips between your legs and glides through your slick pussy lips. He pulls away for a second, but only to push into you when he snaps his hips against you, making both of you gasp when his thick cockhead splits you open.

And then it's needy, slow fucking. Sukuna keeps kissing you, deep, loving tongue kisses, his strong arms resting on both sides of your face, his muscular body moving on top of you, fucking you with slow, deep thrusts.

It's nasty but sweet at the same time. Slow sex, more lovemaking than fucking. And you melt, giving yourself fully to Sukuna, mewling into his mouth, squeezing your legs around him, digging your nails into the buff muscles of his broad back, kissing him back hungrily, gasping with every deep, slow thrust that kisses your sweet spot.

The lights in Sukuna's room are off. The only light comes from the streetlamps that shine their glow through the window. Your mind is hazy, partly from the vodka shots you had and the smoke you inhaled, but also from the giddiness at being so close to Sukuna, the exhilaration of knowing how committed he is to you, how he let everyone know that you are his girlfriend.

He fucks you so good that you cry, tears slowly running down your cheeks, while Sukuna rolls his hips against yours slowly. Letting you feel every inch of his long, thick cock. A slow, steady rhythm that makes you clench around him, sobbing into his hot mouth anytime you feel his cock pushing slowly into you until his heavy balls are resting against your ass, letting you know that he is as close to you as possible.

It feels so intimate. Making love in Sukuna's dimly lit room while the faint noises of the party two floors above you drift to your ears. But here it's only Sukuna and you. And Sukuna doesn't wear his mask of arrogant aloofness. His gaze is open, full of burning love and desire. His lips open in breathless groans, followed by whispered sweet nothings.

It's deep and intense. As if Sukuna is showing you his love for you with every slow move of his tall, broad body on top of you. With every caress of his hard cock. With every heated kiss that brushes your naked skin. With every whispered word breathed against your lips.

You cling to Sukuna needily, caressing his broad back and his firm, full ass, moaning his name in between tender but nasty open-mouthed tongue kisses, and Sukuna groans those sexy low groans that give you butterflies, not just in your tummy but also in your pussy.

"Fuck, princess. I love you. I fucking love you."

Sukuna moans breathlessly against your lips, and you clench around his cock at his soft words, caressing his back, whispering against his lips,

"I love you, too, baby. Love you so much."

You feel Sukuna's hips stutter, feel his muscles tense under your fingers. He moans and stops moving, his lips only lightly brushing over yours, panting heavily, his forehead pressing against yours as he tries to hold back his orgasm.

Sukuna pushes himself up on his elbows, his thick cock slipping out of you, only letting his fat mushroom tip caress your swollen clit. Sukuna gazes at you, his tattooed cheeks flushed, maroon eyes full of need. His large hands land on your legs, calloused fingers running slowly over your thighs and calves, making you tremble under his tender touches.

Sukuna grabs your legs and lifts them, putting them over his broad shoulders. Heated, wet kisses land on both your ankles before Sukuna snaps his hips again and fucks his gorgeous cock back into you. You cry out his name, throwing your head back on his pillow, your mouth opening in a row of mewls. The switch of position makes things even more intense. You can feel Sukuna even deeper inside you with the way he's folding you in half, making the fluttery feeling in your pussy become so intense that you sob from it.

You hear Sukuna's sexy, breathless groans and feel his strong body on top of you, his buff muscles flexing with every deep thrust. His weight presses you down into the mattress, fucking you so deep that it makes you dizzy. But he takes things slow. Savoring your first time making love to the fullest.

He leans down so his face is so close to yours that you are breathing each other's breath, your eyes locked in a deep, intense gaze as you both get closer and closer to your peak with every thrust. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel your pussy growing tighter around Sukuna's cock, the butterflies in your tummy going crazy.

"Look at me, princess. Fuck... look at me."

You moan loudly, obeying Sukuna's wish, looking deeply into his eyes, sighing anytime his fat cockhead hits your sweet spot with the most delicious precision, making a firework of bliss explode inside you with every slow thrust. You mewl desperately, nails digging into Sukuna's skin, hips lifting needily to meet his slow thrusts. Just a bit more, just a little bit more, and you will drown in bliss!

You see the moment Sukuna reaches the point of no return. See it in his heavy-lidded maroon eyes when he can't hold back his orgasm anymore. And Sukuna cums deep inside your pussy, looking so sexy and beautiful with his eyes so soft and full of bliss, his mouth hanging open with the sexiest low moans falling from his lips as he ruts against you, fucking his whole orgasm into you.

You follow him only a moment later, squealing his name loudly, your whole body shaking, pussy so tight around Sukuna's fat cock that he is gasping from it.

"Fuck, princess. Yeah, cum for me, baby, just like that. Just like that. Fuck! Milk me dry."

You are lost in pleasure, moaning and mewling as he fucks you slowly through your orgasm. Sukuna's soft lips claim yours again, swallowing your mewls, kissing you sweet and deep as he rests his heavy weight fully on you, pressing you down into the sheets while he still rolls his hips slowly against you, letting you enjoy his cock until the last waves of your high have ebbed off. Giving you his all, just like you are giving him your all.

You sigh happily against Sukuna's lips, hugging him tightly to you, your fingers playing with the short stubble of his undercut before they run down his broad, muscular back and back up again, caressing him lovingly. And he kisses you slowly with those sexy, deep French kisses. Your breathing gradually slows down again, your bodies relaxing against each other, but neither of you makes a move to let go.

The sex scene made me blush so much AAAHH 😳😳 It's not just fucking anymore but lovemaking with deep eye contact!! I am so flustered 💗😵

I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! The scene at the party where Sukuna attacked that guy wasn't planned at first, but my dear Kuna told me that he wants to let everyone know we are his girl and that anyone who gives us shit will get into trouble with the Ice King himself lol. He is so funny uwu Thank you so much for reading! I am always so happy when I can share a new chapter with you and see your reactions! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗 In the next chapter, we will have: Two dates with boyfie Sukuna (one which kind of fails, but in a funny way, and a real one). More ice hockey because Reader still has her job as Sukuna's lucky charm! And more bonding.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore (Here) | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits you steal:

Posture (Inherited): You know that scene in every princess movie, where they're in training with books balanced atop their head? Walking in circles over and over to maintain perfect posture? Yeah. Just yeah. It's one of his more annoying habits, for sure.

"Any further and you will kiss the table. Right yourself this instant." <-If you so much as slouch like the gremlin he truly does love - he will straighten you himself.

Social Freedom (Inherited): You are....a wonderfully weird character. Even by Twisted Wonderland's standards. Vil loves bringing out the intricacies in people and blossoming them into perfection. His confidence oozes and bleeds. Which is why being near him makes doing the most spontaneous and crazy things easy. Especially when there's such fondness behind his 'scolding'. You won't be camera shy or just shy in general, that's for certain.

"I never thought fleeting liberty could be portrayed as elegant. Alas, I am still yet to be convinced otherwise - but it is a wonderful look on you. That was a compliment, my dear." <- Others look at Vil as someone without the ability to let loose. They're correct to an extent, yet it does come easier with you. The last person he expected such a thing from.

Healthy Eating (Inherited): Vil follows a strict dietary regimen - he won't subject you to it's itinerary to a T. However, he is going to give the snide eye if you don't get a side salad with that pizza. He'll often order on your behalf at eateries or when the team is taking meal orders on set. Never in an oppressive way, it's always things you like, but he is stubborn when it comes to nutritional gain. There lingers a deep rooted discomfort that you'll one day feel neglected in his absence. Even if Vil isn't home, expect those ready-made meal packages to be sent to the door. Vil is nothing if not attentive - that much is for certain.

Pagers and Beepers (Inherited): A bit old-school, but he carries one. Vil can't always drop everything to check on his phone. He also puts the addictive device away two hours before bed to ensure better sleep - what he does keep on at all times is a functioning pager. This is Vil's preferred communication device and he expects you to have it on your person at all times. Never miss a beep. Especially if he is out for long periods of time, or you're in a state he's fussing over (gods do NOT get sick. He will be an absolute mess).

*Bzz* 'Home Late. 10:00.' *Bzz* 'Come to studio. Wear Mask & Bring Downtime Material' *Bzz* 'Still Sick? Have You Eaten Yet?' *Bzz Bzz Bzz* 'Love you. Miss you.'

Skincare (Inherited): Vil's very pushy when it comes to personal care - Epel can 100% attest to this, and takes every chance to voice his grievances (when Vil is not near, of course. Somehow word always gets back though). While he runs a tight ship, he's very sweet and takes your preferences into consideration when making products.

"Come here. Ah...your cheeks are reddened. Sunburn is a very dangerous opponent this time of year. Tsk. I fault myself for not thinking ahead. You might survive the occasional visit in Scarabia, but the Shaftlands climate is unpredictable." <- Vil will gently graze your cheekbones, already thinking over what potency of sun cream he needs to make. Everyone is different, after all. He already makes your perfume, shampoo, lotions, and cosmetics all from scratch - although he does have a preference for when you wear notes of citrus. Bright scents and soft looks suit your character (and are reflective of the effect you have on him). Beauty is an art, and you are his most precious canvas.

Wet-Wipes (developed): Yes, he owns smudge-proof lipstick. Yes, he could choose to wear said lipstick...Vil does not, and thoroughly enjoys seeing whatever shade he picked out smeared on your cheeks or lips. It's a rare bit of selfishness to waste time re-applying it, but he gets a bit of pleasure watching you scrub frantically at it in the mirror. Especially on days you have somewhere to be.

"Ahaha...oh? That look on your face is worth a bit of extra effort. I cannot expect to be rewarded without putting in the work, after all." <- It's a rare bit of unnecessary selfishness on his end. To waste his carefully crafted products, just to watch you scrub his mark off in the mirror. Not too frantic otherwise it'll earn a scolding...but he gets a brief twisted pleasure from it. Especially on days you have somewhere to be.

Apologies(Developed): You...always have to initiate apologies. He's nothing sour or stubborn. Vil can admit his faults when exposed to constructive criticism, and he will work on them. Do not expect things like silent treatment to work, because he will not give in. He is stubbornly attentive, making sure your pettiness won't bleed into life. Makes sure you still share meals together, etc. He will NOT apologize first though.

Habits he steals:

Junk Food (Inherited): Just like he tries to heal your body, you'll try to heal his heart through soul food. It's a part of bonding, and contractual between partners. Is he really going to sit there empty handed while you gorge on candy hearts after a bad day? He better have at least one, or you won't tell him what's wrong. What about peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches?

"You truly are one stubborn creature. Is your stomach made of impenetrable steel?... *sigh* I will taste this concoction of yours, but never claim that I do not love you. If I break out in a rash then you will have far worse to fear beyond my potions" <- He'll be disgusted, but you insist he has to have at least one bite. Just for the cultural experience. If you drink his convoluted potions, then he needs to try your culinary concoctions. Secretly? It's a bit thrilling. You're so wonderfully novel that he can act out any role without thinking the character weird. He's got the biggest weirdo at home after all.

Paparazzi (Developed): Vil will take the blunt end of the media to keep you hidden. He has a private account for people close to him on all sites, and knows what tricks to use so images can't be reused. Like always wearing the same outfit when accompanying you to the gym. This way pictures can't be reused. As much as he encourages you to blossom from your shell, he's a cautious fellow. Not unfamiliar with how obsessive some fans can be. When you're alone, there's always a body guard. Yet unwilling to make you nervous, he arranges for a more...secretive approach.

" - and how was your outing today? Rook is exceedingly knowledgeable on the tourism in this town. I'm sorry we could not go shopping together, but you bought me a gift surely?...hah! I'm merely teasing. It's good to hear that you both had a fun time exploring" <- It's honestly just Rook. Always Rook until the end of time. He's the only one Vil would trust to either politely follow, or simply hang out with you. You're familiar with him, Vil knows there are no ulterior motives, and he's got a sharper eye than most.

Cuddling (Developed): It's scientifically proven that cuddling improves the quality of one's sleep, did ya know? Get in the bed. Now. Don't you want his affection? Hmph.

"Now, I know fully well that you have no intention to spend the night on the couch. I suggest you join me in the next five minutes, or I will take matters into my own hands."

Video Games (Inherited): Vil isn’t a stranger to them. Enjoys them from time to time but never too much because he’s so busy - but you introduced him to Dress to Impress and now he’s addicted. Not just that but he absolutely loves a good rpg. He does like to play with you - like in a co-op platformer, cozy game, or service - when able because it’s bonding time. Vil gets so invested in story lore and actively starts seeking roles in Live Action Adaptation films. Vil as Astarion when???

Thrifting (Inherited): There’s something magical about not knowing what you’re going to get. At first he was against it. You don't have to do that anymore, y'know. He can buy you new clothes if you need them. That is - until you take him through an upcycling market. Vil is used to his designer brands and high fashion - but when you’re able to see potential in something? Make it sparkle? He’s just a big slut for creativity, and I think he would love upcycling.

"My radiance touches all fronts - including my darling. How bold of you to insinuate anything but - No. How daring of you to suggest that adhering to anyone else's standards is worth my time." == Vil is happy to discuss your relationship if the topic is breeched politely during an interview. He isn't shy, neither does he approach anything with less than his best. That includes romance...but oh, hell hath no fury than a smitten Shoenheit scorned by an uncouth reporter. He can sense their attempts to doctor an interview for petty gossip a mile away. He is PROUD that you are learning from him, and views the changes you've brought to his life as improvements. Not lovelorn imperfections.

Habits You Steal

Locks (Developed): Rook is? Oh...okay, so your love's a bit of a prankster - or perhaps a thrill-seeker is more like it? He doesn't let life get too boring, that's for certain. Rook knows Ramshackle through and through. It's not uncommon to look out the window and see his feathered hat zip by in the woods, or through the garden. He does love playing his own version of 'where's waldo' - flickering about to and fro, weaving between the garden trellis and ducking behind trees. Just waiting for his amour to spot him from afar. He knows the layout too intimately - you fear. His habit of breaking and entering instills an anxiety over how unsecure Ramshackle truly is.

“BOO! Aha - desolé, mon coeur - I didn’t mean to startle you so. Consider this a lesson in spacial awareness! Mon dieu, there is a blatant gap in your dorm’s fencing just near the east! Wild beasts can break through and have you for supper. My poor heart will be shattered!” <- So yeah. He's all to happy to set up padlocks on the weak point windows, your fence, etc. He even encourages you to set up some traps yourself. It'll make those 'where's waldo' games more fun for him with new obstacles hehe.

The Nearest Exit (Inherited): Huntsman through and through - he's trained you well. You always sit by the nearest exit in class, closest to the door wherever you are.

Research (Inherited): While Rook is très passionné about fine arts, he's also fascinated with the unknowns in this world. What better club for the truly curious, than the science club? He adores bringing you in to join experiments, always questioning your perspective and letting you take the lead (when safe). It makes a routine procedure all the more interesting, watching what is familiar to him become novel through your eyes. It's like planting a rare seed for the first time, not knowing what will bloom. Akin to venturing within the barred sections of NRC's greenhouse, a thrilling adventure in the pursuit of knowledge. Alchemy becomes your best subject, you can recite the periodic table without need for mnemonics, and you breech the top five in your academic year. Crewel is thoroughly impressed. Good pup.

“Hm? Ah, how curious…there are 123 elements for study in this world, my dear assistant. Would you like to learn the song we teach young mages to memorize them? I will happily serenade you as we work. <- Yup. Twisted Wonderland has more elements than we do, since they’ve got magic resources. Sadly singing the Periodic Table Song won’t be useful. Well, it’s mostly useful still? Trey will actually kill you for teaching it to Rook though. Their mnemonic is much less fast paced and…less annoying. Yeah.

Fleurien (Inherited) : Is this truly shock to anyone? It's french in our world - so props if you already speak the language. Rook isn't fluent but he'd love to learn more. So ... either you use it more with him, or pick up a phrase or two here and there. It's scary as shit - by the way. Now Epel's got not one head popping up screeching "BONJOUR" but two. Don't get comfy because he's small - Rook might be quick enough to dodge a punch but you're one to many outbursts away from a broken nose.

Talking To Yourself (Developed) : Alright. Ace is officially convinced you're off your rocker and need to go visit the nurse. There's no way you know when Rook's skulking about - and if you did, why the heck are you talking to thin air? Just tell him to come out?...yeah, it's not uncommon to have a conversation with your 'boyfriend' when said man isn't visible to the naked eye. There are rumors you finally snapped, just so y'know. Rook physically had to go clear it up with Kalim before the sunshine child sent you on an all-paid tropical vacation to destress (Dammit Rook we were so close -)

“Mon cherie! You look positively radiant in the afternoon light! - ah. The answer is 27, adieu!” <- Call out any question on your Maths or Science homework to the barren sky, and an answer will sound from proximity unknown. The gods have answered your academic dilemma in the form of fleurian embellishments. No. Grim. You can’t just ask every problem - okay you might want to only do this when alone.

Compliments (Developed// Inherited) : Rook is a sweetheart. Maybe a bit of an acquired taste - but he always has something wonderful to say about everyone. No matter their faults...it's almost instinctual, the way you flip from boxed caution to returning his zeal with a genuine compliment. Each and every one. His reaction remains unique as well, he never grows accustomed to it. People groan at the 'shameless flirting' - only to blanch when Rook compliments them in turn, and you are so quick to back him up.

“Oh…mon amour, you never cease to surprise me.” <- Spoken with the most tender affection. Tips his hat to cover his blushing cheeks.

Habits he steals:

Surprises (Inherited): Rook often leaves little gifts and surprises for you to find - in a way he's testing himself, gauging your reactions and getting a spin of glee when you show him a new expression. A bouquet of fresh flowers (their meanings spelling a love letter), sweets from a far corner in the Shaftlands, poems hidden throughout your home in places he predicts you'll check, polaroids of sites across the Isle (urging you to find where for a surprise) etc. This actually started with you - knowing his love for the unknown, you wooed his heart by making little games for him. Not so much snooping into his affairs, but it was fun being under someone else's watchful eye. A bit clumsy but charming to have someone wanting to get the jump on him. Could he be considered prey, if he wanted to be caught?

Decor (Developed) : We've...we've all seen his bedroom, right? Now it isn't going to be the extent of Neige of Vil. Be this a concern or comfort to you? - it's subjective. He will preserve every little thing in regards to your relationship. That middle space above his bed? Cut a square right down the room's center, taking equal parts away from the Neige and Vil spitdown. Add some shelving, a few boxes under his bed and new linens...yup. Polaroids, mementos, paintings, love letters, mayhaps not a plush but if you consent to him having a tiny crochet doll or tsum of you then he will be thrilled. It's all there, right at the center of his organized chaos. He doesn't harbor the same feelings towards you as he does his idols, but that doesn't mean you're any less important.

Organization (Inherited): On that note, since Vil's your friend and the space can be a bit much? Rook will politely tone it down when you're over - flipping the posters and dolls if he's expecting a visit. It is wonderful that you accept his bonified fanboy behavior, but he concedes this much for your comfort.

“Ah…my limited edition Appleblossom-Vil sheets. I understand your discomfort my love, so I have graciously turned them into the perfect couch-cushion cover! Come and see how magnifique they match the drapes!” <-Again…compromise. You can’t even be put off with that level of creativity and excitement.

Freckles and Gloves (Developed): Stop. Covering. Your. Damn. Freckles !!!! This isn't about the hair. Believe it or not, his hair is cute and anyone who says otherwise can stfu because he likes it. If it's what he likes then it's what he likes. The freckles? You're slapping that damn bottle of concealer out of his hands. He'll wake up early to try and reapply it before you wake up. Nope. Nada. He cannot go preaching about the beauty of imperfections while still covering up what triggers the most extreme cute aggression known to man. You compliment every nick on his hands and forearms and wherever else, praise all the little freckles on his nose and cheeks until this man physically is sent to the moon and back from your passion.

“Aha! I am being assaulted by a ticklish foe! If my face is enough to elicit such sweetness from you, then I will certainly die the happiest man in this lifetime” <- He's never seen you so passionate about anything. it's enough to overwhelm him, in all honesty. Stops wearing the concealer most casual days, but won't concede his gloves. Might wear it on occasion to see if you notice (and get a bit of that fire in your eyes to come back).

Scrap Booking (Developed): Rook documents everything, why not keep a scrap book? You suggest the idea to him as a way to immortalize his findings without always needing some kind of trophy. Now he has a scrap book dedicated to literally everyone. Vil and Neige might have multiple…and at some point you have to wonder when it breeches scrap book criteria and just becomes a full detailing of his observations. It depends on how you feel about candid photos.

Newspaper Club (Inherited) : Oh yeah. Rook becomes an honorary member of the Newspaper club. He finds great thrill in trying to get those candid shots without being spotted by his targets <3. If he can help out his amour on his little escapades, then say no more. He's honored to be the only one allowed to use your ghost camera.

“Oh just look at that sunrise! It is the true embodiment of what our students stand for! To press through the darkness through tireless hours of study and labor - all to emerge in new dawn as promising mages! I must get the perfect shot for my darling’s club…non. A ground view will not do - to the skies!” <- He proceeds to break six rules, pilfer a broom from the Spelldrive team, get the photo and return to class without any evidence

-

“Oh mon dieu - how my heart soars! To be loved is to be seen, no? Ah, I could as for no greater compliment. Merci Beaucoup, mon amie!” == Others might make the comparison with scorn. Most find Rook’s mannerisms to be peculiar, some find him distasteful. He is merely an appreciator of beauty, and you are one of the most marvelous creatures he has ever set eyes on. In body and mind. It is an honor to be mimicked. To be loved is to be changed. If anyone holds a true appreciation for sharing habits, it is Rook Hunt. He detests others prying into his personal affairs…and yet, he finds himself willingly giving hints to you. Oho?

Habits you steal:

Dialect and Slang (Inherited) : The most obvious. You don’t spend hours upon hours with someone and not walk away without some of their lingo. Do you REALLY think he has the energy to maintain that primmed facade all the time? The moment it’s closed doors Epel lets loose like no one else on campus. The personality flip is insane. It’s like when you spend time in a foreign country and pick up a bit of their accent - but that southern drawl.

"I don' sound like that! Wait..." <- Slams his palm over Deuce's mouth when he and Ace were mimicking you who 'apparently' started to sound like a bumpkin. Doesn't help that Epel calls you a 'pumpkin' either....oh yeah, the teasing is relentless.

Survival (Inherited): Epel could get you off a stranded island with just a coconut, three sticks, and a rock. Not even exaggerating, he’s just that resourceful. Navigating through woodlands through any kind of weather, making deliveries across towns and encountering any spectacle the mind can trudge up? Yeah. Teaches a guy somethin’. He makes sure you don’t walk off the farm without a survival pack and even shows you how to tell time using the sky. If only he realized how attractive this sort of thing is.

Apples (Developed) : I sincerely hope you have a taste for apples and everything apple related. Epel will be carving away, picking the dud chunks with toothpicks and handing them off without a second thought. Who eats them? You. Also his family sends a care package at least once a month. Cider, pie, tarts, hell they somehow got apples in kugel? The others in your little possé help polish it off, but Epel’s family is so stoked that he has a partner. That Harveston event was a doozy, let me tell ya. A village full of elderly folks asking after you means you will never go hungry. Well…so long as you can survive on apples.

"You know...you kind of remind me of a McIntosh apple. Pretty sweet but also nice an' refreshing...a-ah? That was romantic? I was just thinking out loud but if you say so..."

Cold Tolerance (Developed) : Speaking of Harveston, did you know you got thirty-minutes? Oh yes, thirty minutes to run my friend. Just kidding. Don’t run. Not unless you want to see a sled coming at you in the distance at breakneck speed. Now that his family has a face to match their Epel’s sweetheart, you will always be expected to join him on trips home. They want pictures, updates, your measurements for new clothes and he better be sending notice so the guest room is made up. Epel will be sent right back to NRC if he ever comes back without you in tow. Congrats, you’ve been adopted. It’s chilly there but you get some hand-knitted mittens out of it. Epel is mortified but also so thankful he has someone to buffer the welcome-wagon with.

"Hey uhh...do you mind if we take a picture together? It's just for my mom's scrapbook. She's been asking for one 'a us together and I don' want to disappoint her....h-huh? What'ddya mean you already sent some?! When?!" <- You're writing to his family. Alright. He's totally not running through every embarrassing story his Meemaw or parents have in their arsenal...ah crap.

Cowboy Hat Rule (Developed) : One-hundred percent true across dimensions. You are NOT allowed to wear anyone else’s hat, ya got that? No one. Especially not no-one from the shaft-lands or the Savannah. Rook once offered you his brimmed-hat on a rainy day and Epel completely lost his mask for a moment. He quite literally yanked his jacket off and smothered your head with it, meeting Rook’s amused mirth with narrowed eyes. He didn’t care if Vil scolded him. That Hunt knew exactly what he was doing, ain’t Epel’s fault. Not this time, no way.

"A-a little water won't kill anyone! Let's just run for it!" <- Shoots a poorly-controlled glare as you both book-it to the nearest shelter. Rook's laughter was as boisterous as ever, always happy to push Epel's buttons.

Cat-Calls (Developed) : Assholes love to hit on Epel. The amount of times other students mistake him for a girl - man. Poor guy. It really peeves him off when it happens in front of you too. We’re talking veins popping out of his neck and red enough to rival Riddle on his worst days. What makes it worse is that you defend him. Ain’t it supposed to be the other way ‘round? On one hand he’s smug because you’re parading him like a prized trophy - hah! Look at that, ain’t he a catch? The high dies down a bit when the pursuer leaves. Then he gets sulky.

Heating Pack (Inherited) : Dear god farmlife is kicking your ass. Epel cackles and jokes at your suffering, but hauling those crates is no joke. Thank god he knows a remedy and lends you his heating pack every night. Some icy-hot on the joints, a foot bath for the ankles, and he might rub your shoulders if you ask nicely. He won’t admit to using the remedies himself, claiming they’re for his parents. He just wants to seem tough but you know better. Seven have mercy on your aching knees…there’s got to be a way to worm out of this.

There isn’t. You don’t work, you don’t eat. Haul ass dimension traveler.

"Howdy pumpkin, how're you holding up? Jeez, I warned you about lifting with your legs...nah, forget about it. Vil must be rubbing off on me with his scolding. Here's some hot chocolate to tide ya over until supper. Meemaw's got some herbal remedies lying around, want to give them a try?"

Habits he steals:

Thievery (Inherited): Goes in-hand with the care packages he's getting from home. Those are suppose to be FOR HIM, but you're sneaking all the good bits and leaving him with the barrels of apples. Get your own mail man...just kidding(-ish). He honestly is so glad to have some of the heat taken off his shoulders. Plus, you writing them means he gets a bit more freedom...but seriously. He has to keep stealing back the stuff you've pilfered. Sure he's getting an allowance, but c'mon. Half the stuff that gets sent are things from his room that he already owns, like clothes and his whittle knives...it was cool showing off his best stuff, until his parents sent over his baby album without saying nothing. He had to pry that out of your mitts and bury it under lock-and-key in his room.

"Son of a- Hey! The heck did I tell ya about stealin' my socks?! I know yous ain't that desperate! Go an' get et yer own already dammit!" <- Doesn't matter if he sends a letter back to his Meemaw, asking her to send some extra pairs of those fluffy slipper-socks. Maybe some stationary and a couple jars of jam that Grim'll just run through in a day. You're always fighting over stuff.

Delinquency (Inherited): You are literally Vil's worst enemy - undoing everything he's sought to instill. When Epel is with you, he reverts back to his most basic form. Aka. hunched over his carvings like a gremlin crescent, doing contortionist moves through the halls, sneaking cup-ramen at 2am just 'cause he's bored (Rook plays Hide 'n' Seek those nights, chasing ya through Pomefiore until you're back in Epel's room. Wanna eat? Gotta work for it) , and really the most unmannered bullshit possible. Spell Drive was his go-to outlet where he could get muddy and talk hot shit. Still is - what? You think the Savanaclaw students (70% of the team) are going to sit there and paint their nails? Nah, he's been initiated and all that. Had to show his muscle...but this is different. Vil's considered banning you from the dorm during important times like exams, parties, assemblies, etc. just to get some grounding. Doesn't work, since Epel will just sneak out. Riddle isn't the only one with crafty first-years looking to couch surf.

Malipulation (Inherited): Epel learns how you've managed to last this long in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but that pretty little brain under your belt. People are so quick to expect nothing from the Ramshackle prefect...and instead of proving them wrong, or getting heated? You let them think that way, because bad press was good press at NRC. Let them think you were a conniving, brown nosed kiss-ass who was getting it in with the dorm leaders. Let them think you were a walking sack of bad karma. Let them think whatever else - because those stereotypes are what's keeping you afloat.

"Ah - pardon me...I'll take that challenge on their behalf, if it's all right with you? Don't hold back on me now!.....ya pea-brained fucknugget." <- Epel twists this in his own way- aka. he starts using his pretty looks to his advantage. Let people think he's a weakling, so that when the time comes to prove himself he'll make a 180 change and give a big ol' can of whoopass. Your 'normie-ness' as Idia puts it, is your biggest weapon. Same for Epel's disarming visage.

Cologne (Developed): In an effort to be seen as more 'manly' in your eyes, Epel went down to the Isle shopping district and bought the most putrid smelling drugstore musk you can imagine. One whiff near-singed your nostril hairs off from how much he packed on...Vil did not approve, and gifted him a higher quality scent with notes of peppercorn and jasmine. You personally went and thanked Vil in secret - unable to tell Epel just how bad he smelled since he did it trying to impress you.

Lint Roller (Developed): Vil runs a tight ship - Epel's needs to get Grim's fur off of his uniform for every inspection or else he'll get his head chewed off. Especially if his dorm uniform gets dirtied.

Confidence (Developed): Stops masking his accent when with friends. Never had anyone cheering for him before. Like, really cheering for him. So you coming to his Spelldrive games is such a boost. Wears Ramshackle colors (bandanna and waist-flags) on his club uniform - Vil not mad bc Rook wouldn’t shut up about it being in the name of love -

"Woooo! Score! Blue must be my lucky color! Hahaha!" <- Epel always looks for you in the crowd. Luck isn't nothin' to do with it, but if wearing blue and white gets him playing better? The team isn't complaining.

Protective (Developed): Part insecurity, part him being a bit old-fashioned, part being sick of stereotypes against the underdog (aka. ya both), and part pure country-boy lovin'. He's not a raised gentleman like Riddle, doesn't know the ins and outs of 'romance' like Rook, honestly bro is fumbling half the time...but ain't no one seen Epel flair up like he does in your defense. No one can talk him down. On the protectiveness scale he would get 15/10, because there ain't many friends to make back at Harveston. Surely not anyone to love. He's got some good examples for how to treat a life-partner, and knows 13 different moves to dislocate different joints across the human body.

"Sure ya want ta go there, huh? Huh? Say that again to mah face. I'll put ya nose to the dirt so fast that filthy mouth'll o' yers will taste nothin' but soil fer weeks!" <- He'll do it too. His Meemaw trained him for more than just the Sledathon...nah, years of hauling crates built muscle. Back when he was still a first-year on the Spelldrive team, he'd get shit from his teammates while they 'tested' him. The worst mistake they made was coming for you though, even if it was a bit. Epel was full on ready to clobber a Cheetah-beastman twice his size, and if Jack hadn't stepped in...he probably would've, no mercy.

-

“That’s….that’s somethin’ else, ain’t it? Heh. Heheheh,” == Epel had to excuse himself to go giggle on his lonesome. Can’t have anyone see how happy that small comment just made him. You really love him that much? You respect him that much? He can’t begin to put two and two together - his heart was pounding like some lovesick ninny…oh. Oh hells. He is a lovesick ninny. Needless to say that Epel is absolutely riding a high for the rest of the day.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Being In Love (and how to get you to love him back)

You're a vigilante in this one, but it's only semi-relevant to the plot (I think it classifies as a fluff piece) ~1.1k words 

Jason has never liked things easy. Well, that's a lie, he's never had things easy. What is true is that Jason Todd likes a challenge. And that's something you certainly are. 

He's never meant someone so stubbornly insistent on staying at his side, has never had someone so willing to throw themselves into danger right alongside him. He can tell you to hang back– demand, even, that you wait for his all-clear before storming the drug bust or robbery of the week, but you never listen. You always just follow him, stand by him, have his back. 

You're always there for him, never pressing, but always present. So he really shouldn't be surprised that he falls head over heels for you. 

It was slow, gradual, something that crept up on him before he even had a word for the feeling growing inside his chest. And then it crashed over him like a tidal wave. Flooded his senses and became so undeniable that he forgot how to breathe. 

There was no grand moment, no pivotal event. You just smiled at him, and oh, he knew. He knew he was a goner, and nothing would ever be the same. No excuse could get him out of there fast enough, once he realized exactly how much of his heart you held.

With his face flushed, eyes wide and starry, and chest so tight it hurt, he ran. He's not proud of it, but he did. It took him days to figure himself out. To come to terms with the fact that you were it for him. And when he finally crawled his way back to your side, you were there. Waiting. Ever patient, ever smiling, ever willing to let him mess up again and again. 

He thought it would be simple, once he accepted that love was the only way to describe the depths of his feelings for you. But you, despite how easy you seem to make everything else in his life, stubbornly (or obliviously) don't seem to notice how enamored he is with you. 

Jason does every single thing he can think of to earn your attention, to deserve your affections. He gives you his jacket when it's cold. (You try to turn it down every time, but you always give in. You always smile that soft, gentle smile that makes tingles run from his spine to his toes– his entire world fixating on you)

He makes you food, buys you food, takes you out to eat, recommends recipes, shares his favorite meals with you. (The way to one's heart is through their stomach, right? But you return the favor every time, for every meal he buys, you treat him to one. For every dessert he bakes, you bake one of your own. It's almost frustrating, if your food wasn't so good. He just wants you to let him take care of you for once without needing to do anything in return)

He brings you flowers, trinkets, anything he can think of that would make you smile. (And you do smile, every time. But then you tell him he doesn't have to go out of his way like this for you. He wants to, so badly, if you would just let him)

He picks invisible lint of your shoulder, smoothes out the wrinkles in your shirt. (You just smile, the same sweet smile you always do, and he has to wonder if that's your way of letting him down easy, if you're not so oblivious as you seem)

He tangles his fingers in yours when the need for night vision arises on missions. (He knows your mask has it, knows you can traverse the dark without the need of his help, but he claims that the one in his mask is better every time. It's not, but you never call him out on it)

He shares every little detail of his life you ask for, and listens to everything you say, memorizing every word that falls from your lips for the future. (He tells you things he'd never tell anyone else, but you deserve to know– deserve to know him and all the reasons why you should and shouldn't love him back)

He checks in on you. He texts you on the days you don't see him, holds you back after patrol to check if you're doing all right. He pays attention to your moods, the set of your shoulders, and does everything he can to lift your spirits when you're down. (You do the same for him. He can't tell you how much that means. He wants to, he just doesn't have the words)

But despite everything he tries (everything but outright saying that he loves you) you don't offer him more than what a friend would. (A best friend, sure, a confidant like no other, but that's not what Jason wants)

He resigns himself to just this– to friendship and nothing more– for the rest of his life. (And that would be enough, just to linger in your space would be enough forever) Until a mission gone wrong, until an explosion that leaves his ears ringing and his head spinning and his only thought is the aching fear of not knowing if you made it out.

You do– did– you're standing in front of him and even if you're favoring one leg over the other you're alive and he can't hold himself back any more under the wave of relief that nearly sends him to his knees.

Jason rips the mask from his face and kisses you like it's the only chance he'll ever have. (It might be. He fully expects you to punch him in the face once he pulls away)

When he does pull back to catch his breath, his hands lingering over your cheeks like he's scared you'll disappear, he watches something flash over your face. Realization. A quiet 'oh' escapes your throat, and suddenly, you're kissing him with a passion he never dared hope for from you.

Your arms thrown around his neck, his fingers digging into the small of his back, the smell of smoke and ash clinging to your skin. It's nothing like he expected, but so, so perfect and you and everything clicks into place when you suck his bottom lip between your teeth and lean your weight into him, trusting him to hold you steady.

Jason has never had things easy, but this moment– kissing you, loving you– feels like the most natural thing in the world, and he wants that to last forever. Wants you– this– all of it, held in the palms of his hands for eternity. (And you want the same, you always have, because how could you do anything less than love him just as much as he loves you?)

[verycrowindeed]

Yes I'd o :3 love ya mom

Romantically? My now-ex. Platonically, my friend who was asking for advice

Many things. But most of it is just because now I have a curiosity that cannot be satisfied

I don't think so

05: What is your relationship status?

As of today, single

06: How do you want to die?

Peacefully, surrounded with people who love me

07: What did you last eat?

amburber

08: Played any sports?

Nuh uh

09: Do you bite your nails?

Nope

10: When was your last physical fight?

Idk. I don't get into these. Unless you count wrestling with my sister as a physical fight, in which case it would be a few years or smth

11: Do you like someone?

I'm assuming romantically, so no, I don't think so

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

I think??? I don't remember tbh. But that seems like something that I would do and not remember so, fair.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I don't hate

14: Do you miss someone?

Yeah

15: Have any pets?

Like 6 or smth

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

Weird. Very

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

Made out, no. Kissing yes and sex... Also yes...

Yeah not proud of that one

18: Are you scared of spiders?

Kind of? Just the normal amount I think. Mom's arachnophobic so I didn't have the best example growing up

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

I think I would be tempted but I don't know if I would actually do it, i would probably ask a loopy of questions before

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

I didn't know what that word is but Google translate says kiss?

Anyways, his bed I think

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

Working, probably

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

Yes I do! I think just one

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

Nope unless you count ear perforations in which case I have one on each ear buf these were made to me when I was a baby so

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

History and literature,.then logic and Discrete methods which is a type of math

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

It's hard to know when I miss someone so I don't know

26: What are you craving right now?

Love.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

I think so

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

Not that I am aware of

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

Yes :(

30: What’s irritating you right now?

The fact that I know it could've been better if he had done what I told him to do

31: Does somebody love you?

Many people

32: What is your favourite color?

Don't have one. I love them all

Although I really like the word "Carmesí" which means Crimson in Spanish so

33: Do you have trust issues?

I don't think so

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

A camping trip I think

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My ex

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

Way too easily

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

There is no easier or harder one. They are different process and depending on the situation one might be faster than the other but it doesn't mean it's the best

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

I hope it isn't, I still have so many years ahead!!!

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

15? Or 16 maybe

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

Nope

51: Favourite food?

The canelones my yaya made. And also her Shephard's pie

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Yeah sure. It's just that the reason isn't necessarily supernatural

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

Work

54: Is cheating ever okay?

Nope

55: Are you mean?

I try not to be

56: How many people have you fist fought?

None?

57: Do you believe in true love?

Absolutely

58: Favourite weather?

Rainy

59: Do you like the snow?

I don't remember ever seeing snow irl

60: Do you wanna get married?

Not really. But I would have gotten married to him ah re dolida estaba bueno discúlpenme terminamos HOY

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

It would be weird for me but it might be cause I'm not used to hearing that term in spanish

62: What makes you happy?

My cat, insects under the sunlight, my mom, my friends, tasty food, cooking

63: Would you change your name?

Nah

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

It would sure be a hell of an emotional wreck

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

He's gay so that's weird. And also why does it specify the sex lmao

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

Yes? I don't mind what's in their pants

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

What's with the obsession with sex here. Anyways my friend who was asking for advice

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

I don't think I remember

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

Maybe

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

Many people

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[itoshiabi]

Four Goals For You

Summary: Childhood friends turned first love—Sae Itoshi challenges you in the boldest way possible: "If I score a hat trick, you're going on a date with me."

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

The VIP lounge buzzes with quiet energy, a mix of calm and anticipation hanging in the air. Below, the stadium lights cast a brilliant glow over the field as fans fill the seats, their excited chatter building into a steady hum. Inside, the team is focused on their final pre-match preparations—some stretching, others engaged in casual conversation. The atmosphere is tense but controlled, the kind of silence that comes before something big.

And in the middle of it all, you sit, watching from the sidelines.

You're not just any guest. You're here at the personal invitation of Sae Itoshi himself!

You and Sae have known each other since childhood—family friends, to be exact. He never cared much for friendships, his ego keeping most people at arm's length, but somehow, you did manage to stay by his side. Maybe it was out of obligation, or maybe there was something more that neither of you dare to acknowledge.

But what you don't know is that Sae has been falling for you all this time. His first love—silent, unspoken, yet undeniably real.

Leaving for Spain was difficult for him. He had to leave his parents, Rin and YOU! The thought of someone else taking his place in your life haunted him, even if he never admitted it. And when he found out you're visiting Spain for the summer, he wasted no time inviting you to his game.

Now, as the final moments before kickoff tick away, Sae suddenly stands up.

The room quiets instantly. His teammates turn, curious. But Sae ignores them all, his teal eyes locked onto you. He strides forward, stopping just inches away.

Then, in front of everyone, he speaks.

"If I score a hat trick today, you're going on a date with me."

Silence.

You blink. Around you, the room suddenly erupts.

"What the hell?!" someone shouts.

"Did Sae just confess in the most Sae way possible?" another mutters.

"Wait, wait, hold on—Sae, are you serious?!"

Sae ignores them, his expression unwavering. He isn't joking. Not even a little.

Your heart pounds. "H-Huh?"

His voice is steady. "You heard me. Three goals, and you’re mine for the evening."

Heat creeps up your neck. The way he looks at you—calm, composed, yet utterly serious—is almost too much to handle. The entire team is waiting for your response.

You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. "…And if you don't?"

"Not happening."

The room explodes again.

"THIS GUY—"

"Who knew Sae could be such a show-off?!"

"Damn, now I actually want to see him miss just to see what happens—"

Sae's sharp glare cuts them off instantly. Then, without another word, he turns and walks toward the exit. "I'll see you after the match."

And just like that, he's gone.

.............................

The match was insane.

Sae played like a man possessed. Every touch, every movement is calculated perfection. His first goal? A clinical strike. The second? A breathtaking free kick. The third? A last-minute tap-in after effortlessly weaving through the defense.

Hat trick. Game over.

And just in case you think about backing out—he scores a fourth.

The stadium erupts, but Sae barely reacts. Instead, the moment the final whistle blows, he jogs toward the VIP section as he always does but this time his eyes are scanning the crowd for someone..... Searching for you!

You're still frozen in shock when he walks up at you. Without any drama he asks in his usual straightforward time "Four goals. No excuses. When's our date?"

Your face burns as his teammates roar with laughter behind him. You fake-huff with annoyance as you look away and mumble "…I was going to say yes after the third goal. Maybe even if you scored none... I still would have agreed." You pout.

A rare chuckle escapes him after seeing your rare pout, something softer in his gaze now. "Good. Because I wasn't stopping at three, anyway."

And in that moment, Sae Itoshi realised—his biggest victory isn't the match.

It's you.

[moonlight-prose]

origins logan, raw, passionate, in a truck, while it rains, a little wine drunk. Yeah. 😁

i have no clue if this is a request or just a thought, but i ran with what my mind thought up. but also cause i haven't written anything fully in two months so this is me practicing to get my voice back. enjoy the heinous mess.

warnings: 18+ only past this point.

You expected to freeze with the shitty little heater blowing air cold enough to raise bumps on your flesh. The overbearing echo of rain slamming against the rusted exterior of his worn in (near broken) truck. You expected to die of hypothermia. With the coroners report noting the time of death to be the second he opened that bottle of wine.

You expected a lot of things to go wrong.

That's how you managed to survive this long. In a world so hellbent on destruction, you took the cynics way out and managed to save time on the ride. Things were fucked, hope somehow managed to become a commodity the wealthy could profit off of. And mutants were enemy number one without actually being hunted for fun.

So you took note of the way your breath hung in the air—the flavor of bitter cheap red wine like a pungent toxin that only sunk you deeper onto the silver claws of fate that promised protection. Even as they offered exposure to the elements. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy, his gaze fixed on the way your top gaped and fingers gripped onto the soft leather of his jacket.

You expected this to go wrong too.

That your words would fall on deaf ears, that you would fumble as he slid a hand between your denim clad thighs. How long would it take for him to jolt back to reality? To understand that you were far too much for him to handle as the world fell on his shoulders.

How long could you get away with feeling wanted, yearned for?

When your fingers clawed at the leather seats in the back, your mouth open and chapped from the cold, is when you stopped. Thoughts slipped past the inner psyche of despondent reality. Hope washed over your spit covered shoulders as he bit down on the plush skin with a grunt. Life appeared bright and hot and burned with something new the second he plunged into your sopping cunt.

"That's it," he muttered, lips catching the shell of your ear as his cock carved a new path in your once aching body. "Open up for me baby."

Your words escaped as a mewl. Eyes rolling back and nails digging new shapes into seats he'd have to fix.

He laughed at your mindless state of bliss. "Gone and made you dumb huh? Cleared out that pretty head of yours."

"L-Logan," you managed to grunt, hips slapping back to his quick timed thrusts that struck gold.

"'S okay." Another bite to your spine had your thighs shaking, the slap of his balls lewdly hitting your clit made sparks embed themselves into your soul. "I like ya better this way. You think too fuckin' much anyways. Gotta shut out the bad shit don't I?"

"I'm gonna-"

"Yeah I know you are," he bit out, fingers digging shapes of intent into the flesh of your hips.

You were aware of the truck rocking back and forth. Of the mist gathering on frozen windows and your moans swallowing the sound of rain. You could feel the tingle of red wine in the base of your stomach. The haze of its beauty clouding everything but him and the small confines of this hot car. You were aware of nothing going wrong, of his cock grinding wet and raw into you, of the pool of slick forming on the seat of his car.

Nothing bad existed in this sphere of bliss. Nothing horrid could happen.

Claws punctured the seat beside your head, his hips slapping fast enough to hurt as the tight coil of tension snapped hard enough to halt your heart.

"Fuck!" he roared, sinking into you deep enough to scrape something aching and lovely. His cock twitching hard with each spurt of cum—spilling out onto your mess on shitty brown leather.

Sucking in a breath felt easy, uncomplicated. Your mind drifted into blank thoughts and images of him. Into a state of bliss with Logan's name scratched on the walls.

You expected to freeze. To lose a limb or two from the air cold enough to kill. But then his body settled over yours, his hands cradling your stomach, face pressed into your back. And warmth became the only language you spoke.

[sagekjs21]

1. There are only three TV shows that I care about at all anymore: The Chosen, When Calls the Heart, and Heartland. They really don't overlap much, so I don't really have a backlog of TV that I need to watch. When these three shows are completed, I am very unlikely to pick up any new shows at all, I have pretty much lost all interest in TV other than these three shows. 

2. I don't have a favorite pair. 

3. Yes, of all different sorts. When I make my own, I always add spinach or kale because if you blend it properly you can't even taste it and it just packs the smoothie full of vitamins and nutrients. 

4. My order of preference would be dress pants first and foremost, a skirt is tolerable, and I try to avoid dresses like the plague. If I have to though I will. I literally own one dress and one skirt. 

5. In an omelette with cheese, different types of breakfast meats, and different combinations of vegetables depending upon my mood. For just plain eggs though, I prefer them scrambled with a bunch of pepper. 

6. Whatever is handy: a bookmark, a receipt, a random piece of junk mail, anything really. I don't dog ear the pages though. 

7. I've got a fairly decent mixture. I prefer black, blue, red, and white, but as far as I know the only color missing is pink and it's going to stay that way lol. 

8. No. I used to, I used to collect all kinds of things. But I've moved around enough times in my life to know that holding onto stuff is not something that I am suited for. I'm not a true minimalist, but I don't like collecting a bunch of stuff either. 

9. A cat purring, running water, birds, a music box, the perfume my grandmother used to wear, vanilla, coconut, the perfume that I wear most often

10. No opinion

11. I wear sunglasses outside and in brightly lit rooms/buildings.

12.  I've got two best friends, and I love their enthusiasm. Both of them, when they get on a topic that they love or get an idea that they're excited about, they're like little kids. 😊 @titaniumpeony @pinestripe37 ❤️

13. If I have to write by hand, pen, but I much prefer to type. 

14. Really only at my church, my current home, and the house that my grandmother used to live in which I will probably never visit again. 

15. Not applicable 

16. Also not applicable. I don't think I've owned a hoodie since around 2012. Not really my style. Not feminine enough. 

17. Food on DoorDash lol. As to which restaurant, I honestly can't remember. 

18. Lots of biblical things, particularly the good ones surrounding Jesus. 

19. Not applicable 

20. I'm good at the basics, I'm good at algebra, I'm good at geometry, and I'm good at trigonometry. I have never done calculus and so I have no idea what my skill set is there, and the only math I ever struggled with was statistics but I still managed to get an a. Barely. 

21. Definitely not applicable lol. 

22. Usually iced unless it is very very cold outside. 

23. Anything that comes up that I know the lyrics to and enjoy. 

24. Of course I am! I am seriously the best driver that anyone would ever meet. 😊 For anyone reading this that doesn't know, I'm partially blind and legally am unable to drive ever. 

25. Just the average pierced ears, and I don't want any other piercings and definitely no tattoos. 

26. Both! I've got a lot of different stuff that I think is good and a lot of people compliment me on. Probably my spaghetti sauce would be one of the top things. I can make pretty much anything though and have fun tweaking and playing around with a lot of ingredients and recipes. 

27. Just one. And honestly I can't even think of what it is lol. I know it has to do with the state of Arizona and it's some kind of picture but that's all I can remember. 😊 

28. I would consider myself an intermediate swimmer. I know more than just the basics, I know a few different strokes, I took lessons for either six or seven years quite a while ago. However I'm not exceptionally fit and so speed would definitely be my downfall and I don't know anything advanced. 

29. I had a very basic set when I was very little, and when I was maybe 12 or 13 one of my friends had a bit of a more complex set but it didn't really have a theme. 

30. Yes, from left to right: tank tops, short sleeve shirts, three-quarter sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts, sweaters that act as shirts, pants, my skirt, jackets/sweaters. My dress is in a different closet as are my extra pairs of shoes. 

31. I have absolutely no idea. Probably one of the songs that @pinestripe37 sent me about Psalm 23. 

32. I wouldn't. 

33. Earbuds 

34. Of course. 

35. It's a black and white cat that @pinestripe37 gave me for my last birthday. 

36. I'm not really good at many of them because they generally contain a lot of visual aspects, but I do have fun playing at arcades. Haven't done that in years and now I kind of want to lol. 

37. I prefer it. It gives me someone to talk to and if they want to help out they can and if not that's OK too. 

38. I don't have any secret TV shows or musicians that I like that I'm too embarrassed to tell people about. I mean really, I don't care. My music taste very eclectic, I still like the Backstreet Boys and a few songs from the Spice Girls and I really don't mind admitting that at all lol. If people are going to judge me based on that I probably don't want them in my life anyway. 

39. Receiving a bunch of very useful information from God. But a lot of good stuff happened today, I mean tons of it! 😊 it was one of the best days I've had in a long time. 😊 

40. Probably a Christmas tree of some sort or a palm tree

41. Usually either vanilla or coconut

42. Not applicable 

43. This is a super weird question. For me most of the time I shower with the lights off but that's because light from the windows gives me enough light in my bathroom to see by. It wouldn't for people with normal vision, so this question has me wondering why anybody would shower in the dark. I probably don't want to know the answer to that. 

44. I usually give it to people, friends, street people, I may put it in a tip jar or just anything of that sort, I don't like holding onto spare change at all.

45.  definitely not lol

46. I can't think of anything specifically, but probably a book or a song. 

47. Only if I'm with someone. Going on a walk by myself is boring.

48. No. 

49. I like to go out and stand in the rain. I don't care if it's sprinkling or pouring. Yeah, I'm that crazy person lol. Smile 😊

50.  a comfortable bed for sure, a pillow that provides lots of head and neck support, the room is not too hot or too cold but the perfect temperature, and I can sleep the whole night through without waking up. 

50 Questions Just Because

What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

Describe your favorite pair of socks

Do you like smoothies?

What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?

How do you like your eggs?

What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

What color dominates your closet?

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

What sounds or scents calm you down?

What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

What’s something about your best friend that you love?

Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

What are some places where you feel most at home?

Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

What’s the last thing you ordered online?

What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?

What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

What kind of math are you best at?

What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!

Iced or hot drinks?

Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?

Are you a good driver?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?

Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?

Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?

Is your closet organized? If so, how?

What’s the last music video you watched?

If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?

Headphones or earbuds?

Can you read analog clocks?

Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.

What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?

Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?

What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

What was the best part of your day today?

What’s your favorite kind of tree?

What scent is your deodorant?

Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

Do you shower with the lights on or off?

What do you do with spare change?

Do you have good handwriting?

What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?

Do you like to go on walks?

Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?

What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?

Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

[allfearstofallto]

"Aren't you Going to Finish That Thought?"

Wanderer x Fem! Reader

Pure fluff, hurt and comfort

AN: Super super self indulgent fic. Just something I needed as a D1 yapper

“And when you dig the hole, it has to be very shallow, because the roots continue to grow down faster than-” you stop yourself, a hint of embarrassment on your face. You're talking too much. Again. Blabbing on and on about something or other that no one cares about, filling the silence with your annoying voice.

You always talked to Wanderer. You'd seek him out wherever he went just to sit and chat with him. Although, chatting meant he'd actually respond, he never said much back. Instead he'd have his nose in his book or his eyes focused on what was happening out the window, typically it was the sunset. You felt your heart sink at the realization. He was ignoring you. Telling you that you were bothering him with actions rather than words.

“You talk so much,”

“Don't you ever shut up?”

“Not everything needs to be said,”

You mentally cringed at the words that suddenly filled your brain. All things that'd been said to you, all things that people you considered friends or loved ones thought about you. They could say it as a quip or with a playful smile on their faces, but you know that every joke has a bit of truth behind it. They meant it, even subconsciously. And maybe he felt the same way.

You silenced yourself. That familiar lump was forming in your throat, the one that meant you'd possibly cry if prodded the wrong way.

“Aren't you going to finish that thought?” Wanderer had finally looked up from his book. Pretty blue eyes now focused on you with a questioning gaze. His words startled you, seeing as he only spoke so often. You assumed he was being sarcastic again, but he wasn't wearing that smirk that he always did when saying something snarky. He truly meant it.

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to give him a weak smile that wasn't very convincing at downplaying your sudden lack of confidence, “I just- thought I was talking too much,” words spoken with a bit of sorrow behind them. Stammered out forcefully while you still resisted the urge to cry.

“Who said that?” His question had a bit of a bite behind it. A touch of anger in it. For a moment, you feared that he was angry at you, but his eyes had a certain softness to them when he looked upon your face.

“I don't know. Everyone?”

He clicked his tongue, “Am I everyone?”

“I don't-”

Wanderer cut you off before you could finish a self deprecating thought, “I was listening. I'm always listening. Don't you think I would've told you if you were bothering me?”

“I thought you were just being nice?”

“When have I ever been nice?” he asked, but there was a softness to his voice that you realized only you had ever got the pleasure of hearing. Whenever you eavesdropped in him speaking to anyone else, he sounded annoyed, furious even that they'd dare approach him. But never with you.

His question makes your heart beat quicken and your eyes foggy with tears. You shrugged, shook your head, but didn't say anything else. You couldn't. Unless he wanted to console you as you sobbed.

“Now finish what you were saying. About the flowers, right?” Wanderer tried to mask that softness in his voice by sounding butter again, but you could hear through it.

With a laugh, you started up again, watching as his eyes fell onto his book. If you looked closely, really really closely, you could see a little smile playing at his lips.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained. I wish I was home with you."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Catch me when I fall (2)

THIS IS DIVIDED INTO 2 PARTS CAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME🫠🫠

~ PART 1

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut

wc: 9.4k (30.6 both parts)

synopsis: An artist finds inspiration in a dancer, and the dancer finds hope inside the artist's paintings.

warnings: multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral(f and m) light bondage & restraints, fingering, spanking, face fucking, creampies

a/n: once again a hyunjin fic that i made too long hskdlc so this is the second part! enjoy🩷 (i still suck at french, and also idk shit about bowling so i skipped through it a little lmao)

~ masterlist

~ divider by @strangergraphics

As promised, you woke up to Hyunjin smiling down at you, propped up on his elbow while he caressed your face.

"Good morning, ma chérie. Did you sleep well?" he asked as you nuzzled into his palm like a kitten.

"Mhm. Did you?"

"Next to you, of course I did." he leaned down to kiss your forehead and your face flushed.

"You know, I think we should go out somewhere today, do something fun. You've been cooped up in your house and you need some fresh air in your lungs." he added.

"You're right. Though I wouldn't mind spending the entire day in bed with you." you nuzzled into his neck and Hyunjin snickered.

"Doing what?" he teased, his fingertips ghosting on your waist.

"You know..." you muttered, hiding your face in embarrassment.

"No, I don't. You have to tell me." Hyunjin smirked and you huffed and looked up at him.

"I'm not saying anything." you pouted and he laughed, kissing your pout away.

"Maybe you could show me later." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Maybe I could." you smirked, carding your fingers through his hair.

"Besides those fun activities, is there something you want to do outside?" Hyunjin asked as he closed his eyes and sighed, basking in your touch.

"Ice skating." you said and he looked at you, chuckling nervously.

"Ice skating? I've never been." he admitted, his cheeks red.

"Really? You seem like a 'try everything at least once person', and ice skating is like a mild normal activity unlike bungee jumping and other stuff you told me you did." you chuckled.

"I guess it is. I just always avoided it for some reason. But it'll be fun to try something new with you." he smiled.

Hyunjin didn't want to leave you alone at all and you still felt a little weak, needing to have him next to you so you could lean on him. So, you spent the day together until it was evening, and you got ready, happy to finally be out and about.

Hyunjin waited for you and when you came out of your room in a cute sweater, looking bundled up and ready for the cold weather, his heart melted. He stood up from the couch, taking large strides towards you as you looked at him with eyes wide. He smirked as he stood closer, hand reaching out towards you as he hooked his finger in the belt loop on your jeans and pulled you into him.

"Precious." he whispered as he started kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, your heart beating fast as he kissed you so sweetly, making your insides burst in little fireworks. "Let's go."

The two of you first stopped at Hyunjin's house so he could get changed before you made your way to the ice skating rink, both giddy with excitement.

"So, I am going to hold onto the railing." Hyunjin said when the two of you finally stepped, or rather slipped onto the ice. You chuckled at his cute, panicked face as he gripped at the glass railing, looking absolutely lost, his eyes becoming big while he scanned the rink.

"Those people are moving really fast." Hyunjin gulped and you laughed harder.

"Go ahead, laugh at my misery." he pouted dramatically.

"Hyunjin, you will ace this as soon as you let go of your fear. Come on, give me your hand." you reached out towards him and he eyed your hand suspiciously.

"Do you trust me?" you asked softly and he looked into your eyes, his face softening immediately.

"I trust you." he said and took your hand in his.

"We'll go slowly at first." you said, leading him away from the railing.

"Oh god." he slipped a little, grabbing onto your arm with both hands.

"Relax." you tried to calm him down. "Have you ever been on rollerblades?"

"Maybe twice." he grimaced.

"Fine, channel that into your legs. Just glide slowly." you said and he huffed cutely, trying to hold his balance even though he almost slipped a few times.

He looked so adorable, holding your hand in a deathly grip as he sucked his bottom lip in, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He almost seemed like a cute child, angry at the ice for making him slip on it. Slowly, but surely Hyunjin was gliding through the ice rink with you.

"You're doing it!" you giggled.

"I'm doing it!" he giggled too, before it became a full on laugh which proved to be a mistake as Hyunjin shrieked suddenly, losing balance. You reached out for him but it was too late, he had already collided with the icy ground.

"Ouch." he wailed, grabbing at his lower back.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!" you gasped.

"My butt hurts." he pouted at you.

"It'll be fine." you chuckled, helping him up. "Skate it off." you added as he grabbed onto the railing.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be." he kept pouting as he looked at you.

"If I kiss you, will it be more fun?" you pressed closer to him and he smiled instantly.

"Mhm." he nodded fervently, his little curls bouncing around his face. You giggled as you grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your lips into his.

"Better?" you asked against his lips.

"Hmm. One more?" Hyunjin smirked.

"Sure." you chuckled, kissing him again.

It wasn't only one more but after you had finally parted, Hyunjin was more energized to try again. Pretty soon, the fall was forgotten as he got the hang of it, the two of you skating easily on the ice, the music urging you on. You couldn't stop laughing in joy, your heart swelling at the sight of Hyunjin being so truly happy.

When you finished, Hyunjin was buzzing.

"Oh my god, that was so fun! And my ass is not even hurting that much anymore." he noted and you started laughing.

"I'm glad you had fun. I knew you were going to like it." you said as the two of you started walking.

"Did you have fun?" he asked.

"Of course I did."

"That's the most important thing then. I wanted to see you smile, ma chérie, it's the prettiest thing." he smirked as your hands brushed.

You blushed immediately and he grabbed your hand, gently entwining your fingers.

"Thank you." you said, looking away from him.

"Don't hide from me." Hyunjin said, pulling you into a sweet hug. You looked up at him and the world disappeared like it always did once you got lost in his warm eyes.

"Wanna come to my place?" he whispered.

"Yes."

The two of you got some street food to eat on the way so you don't have to cook or wait for food to be ordered since you had other plans in mind.

As soon as you stepped into Hyunjin's apartment, you were pinned to the wall. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt a wave wash through your heated body.

"I missed you, mon cœur." he brushed his lips against yours. "Missed being close to you."

"H-Hyunjin." you whimpered quietly as his hands gripped at your hips, slowly sliding to your waist.

"I missed you too." you added, playing with his curls before entwining your fingers in them and pulling a little.

"Sweetheart." Hyunjin moaned when you pulled his head back and attached your lips to his neck. His legs trembled while you sucked love bites into his skin and he pressed up against you, making you feel his erection brushing against your thigh.

"Y/n." Hyunjin was losing himself, slowly grinding against you. "Mm." he moaned as you licked at the sore spots you had created.

The way he looked at you when you parted from his neck made your pussy clench. His eyes were full of hunger, darkened with lust.

"I want to try something with you." he grabbed your face gently. "Will you let me?"

"I-I don't know what it is." you stuttered, gripping at his waist.

"Let me show you, darling. You can say no if you're not into it." he smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you to his guest room. "Don't be scared." he added softly as he noticed the nervous look on your face.

You had no idea what to expect as he opened the door but it was definitely not the confusing contraption hanging from his ceiling.

"What..." you chuckled nervously. "Is that...?"

"A sex swing." Hyunjin finished your sentence with a smirk. "Thought it would be appropriate for you." he added and you smacked his arm as he laughed, your cheeks heating up.

"When did you even get it?" you asked.

"After the first night you spent here."

"Wow, you planned ahead." you giggled.

"So, you wanna try it? We don't have to." Hyunjin smiled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest. He nuzzled into your neck and exhaled, you could feel his warmth radiating onto your body and even though he seemed calm you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He wanted you so much in that moment, in any way you'd let him have you.

"I wanna try it." you whispered, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

"Really?" Hyunjin asked excitedly. "Now?"

"Yes, now." you chuckled at his eagerness. His expression changed from an excited puppy to a hungry wolf in a milisecond, making your gut swarm with excitement.

"You do know you'll be completely at my mercy, my darling?" he smirked, brushing his lips against your jaw.

"I know." you said, biting on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of lust.

Hyunjin turned you around, kissing you fervently as his hands grabbed at your body, asking you to take your clothes off. Your hands were busy on his body too, sliding under his shirt and touching his abs and chest. His legs buckled each time you touched him, you had such power over him as he had over you, both of you completely infatuated with one another.

When your clothes were finally off, Hyunjin's eyes traveled all over your body hungrily.

"Let's get you swingin'." he said and you chuckled, how he managed to be sexy yet silly at the same time was beyond you. He led you to the swing, assuring you it was safe as he took all the precautions, installing it and checking it beforehand.

You felt excited and a bit nervous but you knew Hyunjin would stop if you asked him to and he'd never hurt you. He helped you sit up as he strapped your hands in first, restricting your movements. Arousal grew inside you as your pussy throbbed, wet with your slick.

"Tell me if something is too tight or uncomfortable." Hyunjin said as he started strapping your legs in.

"It's fine for now." you said.

Your mind didn't process how spread open you were actually going to be until after Hyunjin had secured both your legs in, your pussy lips opening up as you were positioned in almost a complete split. You shut your eyes tight in embarrassment at being like this in front of Hyunjin.

"You're so beautiful, ma chérie." Hyunjin's voice sounded husky as his fingertips traveled on your inner thighs to your tummy and waist, teasing you as you twitched under each and every touch of his, making you open your eyes and look at him.

"Une œuvre d'art." he whispered as he slid his fingers through your welcoming folds.

You moaned at his words and touch as Hyunjin observed you, moving his fingers so slowly, barely touching you and you whimpered, struggling against your restraints, your legs trying to close to get some friction but you were stuck.

"Patience, my darling. Je tiens à toi." he whispered as he kneeled in front of your pussy, his hot breath hitting you and making you clench around nothing. Hyunjin leaned in and kissed your pussy, teasing you and making your legs shake as you whined for him to give you more. He ignored your whimpers and kept leaving small kisses on your lower lips before he put his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

"Hyunjin!" you whimpered as arousal gushed from you. "M-more." you begged, your hands grabbing at the restraints holding them. Your legs were already trembling and he didn't even do anything, you were turned on like never before, the way he had you posed for him made you want to burst.

Hyunjin licked at your entrance, his tongue playful and skilled, making you moan loudly again as your body trembled, shaking the entire swing just a little. You threw your head back as Hyunjin started making out with your pussy, your breasts trembling as you kept shivering. Hyunjin gripped at your thighs and ass, massaging it and enjoying your taste and the view.

He had always admired the way your body could contort and he didn't even dare to dream of laying a hand on you, the ethereal being flying in the sky. But here you were, suspended in air and spread beatifully just for him to enjoy you. Hyunjin's eyes rolled back as your entire body shook against his lips and he moaned into you, his brows furrowing as he slurped up your essence. Your orgasm hit you like a wave that crashed into Hyunjin's tongue as he savored the sweet taste of you, lapping up every drop.

"You taste so sweet, my muse." Hyunjin licked around his lips before kissing your pussy again.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered, tears of pleasure already gathered in your eyes.

"Shh, I got you." his fingertips slid between your folds before he slowly pushed two fingers in, your pussy taking him easily. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up as Hyunjin leaned over you while slowly fucking you open, his other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. He lifted your head up a little and kissed you passionately, pushing his tongue in deep and making you taste yourself as he took your breath away. He fucked you faster as he kept kissing you, swallowing every moan you were letting out. Your legs were shaking again, trying to close around his arm from all the stimulation but you couldn't move.

"Ah!" you parted from his lips only to moan against them as you squirted on Hyunjin's hand.

"Good girl." he smirked and you whimpered as he leaned down to kiss your face, helping you come down a little.

"Mon cœur, I need you to prep me a little." he smirked, walking around the swing to stand behind you. You gasped quietly when you realized what he wanted to do so you let your head fall backwards. Hyunjin smirked, standing closer to your face as he pressed the tip of his cock on your lips. You opened them and he slowly pushed in as much as he could, fucking your face gently as he held the back of your neck, his other hand cupping your breasts and playing with your sensitive nipples. Your eyes were shut tightly as you relaxed your throat and Hyunjin groaned, the feeling of your warm and wet mouth around him and the sight of you surrendering completely to him drove him insane. He pushed in and out a few more times, hands gripping your breasts harder.

"Fuck." he gasped, pulling out. "I almost came." he added, looking surprised. You coughed a little, lifting your head up.

"Are you okay, darling?" he asked.

"Yes, please, I need you." you looked up at him with glassy eyes and how was he supposed to deny you? Hyunjin positioned himself between your legs, pushing his cock in slowly so you could feel him stretching you inch by inch and you whimpered at how easily he slid in, with you being so opened.

"Hyunjin." you moaned his name as he buried himself to the hilt within your warmth.

"My angel. You feel perfect. Made for me." he looked at you like you were everything as his large hands gripped at you, his hips starting to move.

"Made for you." you repeated in trance as Hyunjin started fucking you harder, losing himself in the feeling of you taking him so well. Your body was burning up, shaking and sweating as you moaned loudly, no one had ever been this deep inside you, hit all the places that Hyunjin has. The swing was moving slightly in tandem with the two of you, aiding to the feeling of Hyunjin splitting you apart.

Your head fell back as you moaned loudly at him hitting your sweet spot and Hyunjin shook, gripping at you. You let out a loud whimper as you came, exploding around his length and squirting on him again.

"Y/n." Hyunjin groaned as he pulled out, grabbing at the swing and breathing hard.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked breathlessly.

"Want you in another position before I cum." he smirked.

"Okay." you nodded, your heart beating out of your chest. Hyunjin then carefully removed the restraints from your legs, letting them fall down and relax a little before he did the same for your arms.

"Feeling good?" he asked and you nodded with a smile. His cock was red and throbbing, you knew he was close yet he didn't chase his high instantly, he still took a moment to take care of you. Your heart swelled and all you wanted was to give him pleasure like he gave to you.

"How do you want me?" you asked.

Instead of answering, Hyunjin turned you around, spreading your legs and securing them in the restraints. You let out a breath as he tied your hands next. Your feet were just barely touching the floor, your legs spread again as you shivered, looking back at Hyunjin to see him stroking his cock slowly.

"Ready to take me, mon cœur?" he asked.

"Yes."

Hyunjin slowly pushed in again, giving all of his length to you as you took him in greedily. He gripped at your hips, fucking into your harder and faster than before. Your loud whimpers together with the loud sound of skin slapping skin brought Hyunjin close to the edge immediately. He grabbed at your hair, pulling your head back as you arched your back for him while he pounded into you.

"So good, so perfect, ma chérie. You're so perfect." he kept mumbling and groaning while he fucked you, his free hand slapping your ass a few times. You exploded around him again and Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your breasts as he came, pushing his warm cum deep inside your core.

"H-Hyunjin." you moaned.

"Y/n." he whispered, kissing your neck as he slid out of you, his cum dripping down your inner thigh. He held onto you for a moment before carefully getting you out of the swing and scooping you up in his arms.

Hyunjin took you straight to the shower, running warm soothing water over the two of you.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he smiled at you as he held your face in his palms.

"More than okay." you nodded with a smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you for trusting me." Hyunjin kissed your cheeks gently.

"Of course." you kissed his pouty lips, completely forgetting about the pain living inside you.

As the snow outside started melting away, the ice around your heart melted too, turning into an avalanche that struck at the wall around Hyunjin's heart, making it crumble and leaving him unprotected, both of you now vulnerable and open to each other.

There was hope for the future, for your future.

The days got longer as the sun traveled higher in the sky, everything was waking up, all the birds, insects and flowers were finally coming to life, thriving in the warmth of the spring.

You had taken a little walk after getting some groceries you needed for tonight, as you'd be cooking for Hyunjin at his apartment. You had originally planned for him to come to your place but he had insisted on helping you with dinner even when you were adamant on doing it alone.

Along your walk you picked up some flowers for Hyunjin, seeing how he loved painting them all the time, almost as much as he loved painting you.

"Hyunnie, I'm here." you announced as you walked into his apartment but there was no answer.

"Hyunjin?" you repeated his name as you walked into the living room. You heard some faint music coming from his room behind the closed doors and you recognized the music as his 'painting music'. With a smile spreading on your face, you made your way to his room, carrying the flowers.

When you opened the door, you were met with the cutest sight ever. Hyunjin was sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of a big canvas, various brushes and paints thrown around him, his hair in a half up-do as he concentrated.

"Oh, y/n." Hyunjin jumped a little when he felt your presence. You giggled at him endearingly, noticing a streak of yellow paint on his cheek.

"You have paint on your left cheek." you said and Hyunjin reached up to wipe at his right cheek.

"Left cheek." you snickered.

"Oh." Hyunjin chuckled in embarrassment, wiping at his face.

"You're just spreading it everywhere now." you laughed, shaking your head.

"Stop laughing and come help me." he pouted cutely and you couldn't resist him. You grabbed some wet wipes and came closer to him and he pulled you into his lap immediately.

"Nice." he smirked.

"Oh, this was your plan all along, to get me into your lap?" you smirked back.

"Mhm." Hyunjin nuzzled into you, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"What are you working on?" you asked as you started to turn around.

"No, don't look! It's not done yet." he quickly grabbed your face, making you look at him and squishing your cheeks as you whined. "It's for my new exhibition and it's a gift for you and you can't look at it until it's finished."

"Okay, okay, I won't look." you chuckled, grabbing his hands and kissing his fingertips softly.

"Did someone give you flowers?" Hyunjin's eyes widened a little as he nodded at the bouquet you had left on his table when you grabbed the wet wipes.

"No silly, I got those for you." you pressed your lips on his forehead.

"You got me flowers?" he blinked at you cutely.

"Yeah, I just thought they were pretty and you like to paint them so..." you trailed off, your cheeks becoming rosy.

"That's so sweet, mon cœur. Thank you." Hyunjin smiled, his dimples showing.

"You're welcome, mon chéri." you smirked and he laughed, throwing his head back.

"Someone has been studying their French." he joked, brushing his lips against yours.

"Maybe, just a little bit." you giggled before Hyunjin closed the small gap between you, kissing you sweetly. The kiss got heated quickly as always between the two of you and you broke it off as Hyunjin's hands started to wander.

"We have plans, remember?" you narrowed your eyes at him and he smiled cheekily.

"Ugh, just a quick one." he teased you, his hands sliding under your shirt.

"Quick does not exist with you, it's always hours." you laughed and Hyunjin chuckled with you.

"Can you blame me? It's your fault." he stuck his tongue out and you giggled.

"Right." you rolled your eyes. "Let's get ready, we have all night later."

"Okay." Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you but still didn't let you get up, not after he got a few more kisses from you.

You managed to get ready after some time and Hyunjin drove to your destination. You always wanted to try bowling and Hyunjin was always excited for active dates, enjoying the thrill and the competition that would lead from teasing to something more.

"Oh, this is really heavy." you struggled as you tried to pick up the ball.

"The beginners one is lighter, let's get you started with that one." Hyunjin said and you nodded, excited to learn something new.

Hyunjin was a good teacher, he was patient and sweet but he also teased you the entire time. Every little touch was purposeful, he made sure to press his body against yours any moment he could, making you shiver as you were always weak for him. Even with all that you had managed to come close to a strike a few times.

Hyunjin was skilled, hitting all the pins perfectly almost every single time. All the work out made you both hungry and you were ready to go home and start on the dinner you had planned. When you got closer to the exit, you noticed it was raining hard outside and neither of you remembered to bring an umbrella, not when Hyunjin drove you there. But, the car was at the end of the parking lot, meaning you'd have to gun it to get there and you'd still get soaked.

You smirked in mischief as Hyunjin turned to look at you.

"What?" he asked.

"Catch me if you can." you chuckled as you pulled open the door and bolted outside.

"Y/n!" Hyunjin squealed in shock, his eyes wide and lips falling open. You laughed at his expression as you started running towards his car.

He shook his head as a smile spread on his face before he ran outside too, the parking lot filled with squeals and laughter. Hyunjin was quickly coming closer and you screamed as he reached out to grab you but before he could, he slipped and fell down right into a puddle of water.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you gasped, running back to him immediately.

"I keep falling for you." he said, shaking the water off like a dog as he slowly stood up.

"Cheesy." you laughed at the state of him and Hyunjin couldn't resist you, grabbing your face as the two of you stood in the rain, completely soaked.

"I'm so in love with you, y/n." Hyunjin said when you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, your heart leaping out of your chest.

"I'm so in love with you too." you confessed and Hyunjin smiled happily, crashing his lips on yours. You didn't care about the cold rain drenching the both of you because it had washed away any fear you had in your heart.

"I'm in love with you, y/n!" Hyunjin yelled to no one in particular as you parted.

"Shut up, oh my god." you laughed, trying to cover his lips but he kept moving his head away and laughing as he yelled about being in love.

"Hyunnie, we're gonna get sick, let's go." you warned him, pulling him towards the car.

He hurried up then, turning the heating on in the car even though it didn't help much. When you got to his apartment, both of you shed the cold wet clothes and stepped into the shower.

His hands were on your waist instantly as he started kissing your shoulders and upper back. You shivered as you still felt the cold from the rain and Hyunjin pulled you into his body. You closed your eyes, feeling like you were floating away with him. Nothing could hurt you when he held you like this.

"Let me help you with dinner." Hyunjin pouted later, as you got ready to cook.

"No, I want to make this for you. Go paint or something." you chuckled, trying to pry his hands off of you.

"Can't I at least watch?" he kept pouting at you, his arms not budging at your attempts of moving them away.

"No." you smirked, finally slipping away from his grasp as he sighed dramatically.

"Fine, I'll wait in the living room." he said and walked away, sulking. You giggled at him as you started making dinner, humming to yourself. You leaned over a few times to check on Hyunjin and he was sitting on the sofa, watching something on the tv. He looked so cute so you turned the stove off for a moment and skipped to him.

He was about to turn around before you grabbed him and gave him a big smooch right on the top of his head, inhaling the shampoo he used earlier.

"Ma chérie." he leaned his head back to look at you, his cheeks rosy. "Do you need help?"

"No, it's almost done. Just wanted to kiss you." you smiled.

"Kiss me then." he smirked and you leaned in, giving him a sensual upside down kiss.

"I hope this is a teaser for dessert." Hyunjin whispered when you parted.

"Mhm." you chuckled before going back to the kitchen to finish up.

"Something smells nice." Hyunjin strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later, his stomach growling as he clutched onto it. "Is it done?" he tilted his head at you.

"It is." you smiled.

"What did you make?" he asked excitedly as the two of you sat down.

"It's cappelletti filled pasta with homemade meat sauce. I prepared the sauce beforehand, otherwise we'd be sitting here for hours, waiting for it to cook."

"Oh, it sounds delicious." Hyunjin smiled cutely as you took some out on his plate.

You waited for his reaction in anticipation as he brought the pasta to his lips, furrowing his brows and tasting it before his eyes widened and he let out a little hum of approval.

"This is delicious, mon cœur." he smiled.

"Thank you, lover." Hyunjin blushed at the nickname and you matched his rosy cheeks as both of you looked back at your plates.

After the wonderful meal, Hyunjin thanked you again and made you sit down so he could clean up. You wanted to help but he insisted that since you cooked, he should show his appreciation and clean it up. You sat, drinking your wine and observing him. There was something so simple and easy to being with him, you had no problem imagining a future where Hyunjin would be a part of it forever. You needed to hold him so you stood up, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him a little as you leaned your cheek on his back.

"Angel." he smiled.

"Hyunnie." you rubbed your cheek against him.

"I'm done. We can have dessert now." he turned around to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Mhm. Can't wait." you giggled and he led you to his room.

"I have something for you." Hyunjin said, opening the drawer of his nightstand. You chuckled, he was always so imaginative and experimental when it came to anything, even in the bedroom.

"What is it now?" you asked with a knowing smile.

Hyunjin took out a rope and a blindfold and you lifted your brow at him.

"You're tying me up?" you chuckled, your face heating up.

"No, you're tying me up." he smirked at you.

"Oh. I am?" your heart skipped a beat.

"Mhm. I want to be at your mercy, mon cœur." Hyunjin's eyes became hazy.

"Okay." you nodded, coming closer to him. "You want me to have my way with you, use you?" you asked, teasingly touching his abs and chest.

"Yes, please chérie. Use me." he whimpered quietly as you squeezed at his body.

Hyunjin leaned in, kissing you slowly as his tongue circled yours and played with it and you were already getting so wet, wanting to be as close as you could to him. The two of you slowly stripped and Hyunjin laid on the bed, looking up at you lustfully, his eyes fluttering.

He was giving himself to you completely, putting his hands above his head so you could tie him up.

"How long will you manage to take not being able to see me or touch me?" you snickered.

"Not very long." he chuckled at you as you started tying his hands up.

"This should be fun. Close your eyes." you said and he did so, letting you put the blinfold over his eyes. You leaned back and looked at him, your sweet Hyunjin laid out before you, his lean body on display only for you to worship. He was so beautiful everywhere that you had no idea where to start. His plump lips so pouty and pink, invited you to kiss them first so you leaned in and pressed your lips into his. He whimpered quietly when you moved away, his heart beating faster in anticipation of where you were going to touch him.

Your put your hands on his hips and slowly slid them up on his v-line, your thumbs caressing his defined abs. Hyunjin shivered under you, his fingertips digging into the soft ropes instantly. You leaned in closer, letting your breath hit the skin right under his collarbone. Hyunjin took in a sharp inhale as you started kissing him, your lips slowly traveling down towards his happy trail, your tongue darting out occasionally to lick at his skin. Your hair tickled him as you kept going lower. Hyunjin anticipated your lips closer to his dick that was becoming hard for you, but you leaned away, teasing him.

He whined quietly and you giggled, your hands running up his dainty waist to his perky nipples. He groaned louder as you touched them, flicking them with your thumbs before pinching them a few times as you leaned in and kissed his neck. Hyunjin's head fell back as he moaned quietly while you kissed and licked at his skin, sucking on his adam's apple.

"Y/n." he moaned your name, getting more worked up as you teased him with your lips and hands. His hips started lifting up on their own accord, looking for some kind of friction. You kissed his shoulder and his arm, lips traveling to his chest and down again. This time your tongue darted out to play with the happy trail leading to his hard cock.

"Ah!" he moaned, gripping at the rope harder. Your hands squeezed at his hips as you kissed around his cock and bit at the flesh of his inner thighs.

"Ma chérie. Mon petit ange." he moaned out and you giggled breathlessly, hovering over his leaky cock.

"Hyunnie." you whispered before you licked up the pre-cum oozing out of his tip.

"Mm." he moaned, his head falling to the side as you teased at his slit with your tongue. He kept letting out shaky breaths as you played with him before you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls gently.

"D-darling." Hyunjin stuttered, his hips lifting up into you. You moaned around him, sliding down more as you took him in.

Hyunjin was losing himself quickly, the blindfold seemed to triple his senses, making him even more sensitive to your touches. His hands strained against the ropes as he slowly fucked up into your mouth, making you gag a little.

"Mm, my darling." Hyunjin moaned as you sucked on him faster, your hand wrapping around his length to give him more stimulation. He couldn't control his hips as they snapped up and you felt him twitch inside your mouth but you weren't done with him yet. You leaned back and he whimpered loudly, his body shuddering.

"I'm taking the blindfold off." you whispered as you hovered over him.

"Okay." he was breathless as you leaned over him and pulled the cloth off. He blinked a few times before looking up at you and you didn't even give him any time to adjust as you grabbed his cock and pressed it against your folds. Both of you moaned as you slowly slid down on him until you were filled up completely, his cock buried within you.

"Mm, you feel so good Hyunjin." you moaned, throwing your head back, closing your eyes as your pussy clenched around him.

"You feel perfect, ma chérie. Please, fuck me." he begged, making you whimper as you dripped around his length. You started moving slowly, adjusting to the position and having him buried deep inside you as Hyunjin laid there, letting you use him. He filled you up so perfectly and you lost yourself on top of him, bouncing faster and harder, your hips slapping against his as you threw your head back.

Hyunjin moaned loudly as he watched you fuck on him, your tits bouncing, your beautiful body on top of his, your sweet pussy stuffed full of his cock.

"My goddess. My muse." he whined and your eyes snapped open as you looked at him hungrily. You needed his hands on you and you leaned over him to untie them, bringing his wrists to your lips as you kissed them, slowly circling your hips on him. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky before he wrapped his arms around you as you started bouncing up and down again.

"My lover." you tangled your hands in his hair and Hyunjin moaned loudly, flipping you over and making you squeal in surprise.

"Need you." he mumbled into your neck as he started snapping his hips into yours. You grabbed at his upper back, your nails digging into his skin as you moaned his name loudly. His hand came between you to rub at your clit as his other tangled in your hair, pulling lightly. You unraveld around him and he followed, his hips stuttering as he moaned desperately, rutting into you and riding his high.

"Hyun." you whispered when he leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard.

"Best dessert ever." he breathed out, making you laugh. You stayed connected for a few more moments as you came down from your high.

"I'll be right back." Hyunjin said before he disappeared to the bathroom and you laid waiting for him, your heart still beating fast. He came back quickly, cleaning you up.

"I'm thirsty." you sat up a little, looking for your panties.

"I'll bring you some water, just sit tight." Hyunjin said while he clumsily put his boxers on, almost falling over as he started jumping on one leg. You giggled from the bed, stealing his shirt and putting it on as he looked at you with playful annoyance. When he came back he stood and looked at you for a moment and you looked up from your phone with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" you asked.

"You look so cute, I could eat you up." Hyunjin smirked as he stalked closer to the bed. Suddenly he started making weird growling noises as he crawled towards you and you squealed, laughing and moving away.

"Stop that!" you laughed as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you to him, making you scream.

"Got ya!" Hyunjin hovered over you, trapping you with his legs as he started tickling your sides.

"Sto-op!" you begged through breathless laughter, trying to push him away as he kept attacking you with his fingertips on your sides and tummy.

You kept laughing as he grinned at you, torturing you until your face became red.

"Ugghhh whyyyy?" you whined when Hyunjin finally calmed down.

"You're just too cute." he smirked, burying his face in your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"So I get attacked?" you whined again and he laughed.

"With tickles and kisses." Hyunjin grabbed your face gently, kissing you lovingly.

"I'm still thirsty." you said and he chuckled.

"Oh, right." he grabbed the forgotten water bottle, giving it to you. "My shirts look so good on you, better than when I wear them." he added.

"I doubt that but thank you." you smirked.

"Are you tired, mon cœur?" Hyunjin asked.

"Mhm." you nuzzled into his pillow and Hyunjin laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms immediately.

"Sweet dreams, darling." he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Your dreams, however were not sweet and you woke up in sweat and panicked as you grabbed at Hyunjin.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered and he hummed a little, his brows furrowed confusedly.

"Hyunjin, wake up." you whispered, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Chérie? What's wrong?" he opened one eye as he looked at you all disheveled and still sleepy, before realizing you were crying, it making his eyes widen as he awakened completely and sat up.

"I- I had a nightmare." you hiccuped, grabbing at his arm.

"What nightmare dares torture my baby?" Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer.

"You were gone. I lost you." you said with pain in your voice as you buried your face in his chest, wanting to just disappear inside his arms, melt into him and become one, be with him always, be safe.

"No, my darling, you'll never lose me. I'm right here. It's okay, shh." he caressed your head as you cried.

"You're not allowed to leave me." you whimpered.

"I won't, y/n. You're stuck with me." Hyunjin said and you looked up at him. He started wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he looked at you with a gentle smile and sparkly eyes.

"Good, I want to be stuck with you." you admitted and his smile widened.

"I think after all the shit life threw at us, we shouldn't waste a chance if we have a good thing. You know I'm in this for the long run, you're not just some random girl or a rebound." he held your face in his hands delicately.

"I agree with you. You're definitely not just some random guy to me either." you said and Hyunjin chuckled, kissing your lips.

"Let's get some sleep. I promise I'll be here."

And Hyunjin was there. Every single performance you had, he'd watch religiously like he did from the moment he found you, cheering for you from the gallery. Only now, you knew he was sitting there so you'd always throw a little wink at him between poses. Hyunjin's heart fluttered every time you did that. He was there when it got tough, when you'd wake up sad and nostalgic, he'd come to you and hold you without any words, sometimes letting you just cry it out if you needed it.

You didn't want to completely throw away the memory of your late husband and Hyunjin never asked you to do that, he only asked you to be there for him like he's been there for you. There was nothing more you wanted than to support him equally, as you came to all his exhibitions like always, and this time they were inspired by you, all the paintings of you dancing were displayed on the wall. 'Up in the air' was the name of the exhibition he worked so hard on, focusing only on you and the art you produced with your body.

Summer had passed blissfully, simmering down into a warm beginning of the next season. The leaves started changing color, nature painting its own canvas as Hyunjin and you painted yours. He felt it in his bones, how much he came to love you so naturally, so easily. Hyunjin couldn't imagine his life without your wonderful presence. You felt the same, like your heart would burst from the love you had for him, something you thought you'd never feel again.

It was a sunny morning after you spent another night at Hyunjin's apartment, the evidence of your presence everywhere. The two wine glasses that you never bothered to wash left on the table as you got busy kissing each other. Your clothes strewn all over the floor of Hyunjin's bedroom. His bed messy, his pillow smelled like your shampoo, his sheets smelled of your perfume and you skin, such a sweet and comforting scent. You sat on the balcony when Hyunjin opened his eyes, looking for your body instantly. You woke up way too early, admiring his sleeping form for a while, wondering how a man this beautiful was lying next to you. You got up then, made some coffee and wanted to stand on the balcony, breathing in the fresh morning air, your heart full as you felt like you were reborn again.

Hyunjin sat up, rubbing at his eyes before he noticed you standing outside. He was pulled in immediately, following your footsteps to his balcony. You turned around when he opened the glass door, both of you smiling at each other.

"Good morning." you said.

"Good morning." Hyunjin's voice was raspy from sleeping.

"There's some coffee in the pot." you said but he came closer to you, lifting your hand with the coffee cup to his lips as he took a sip, making you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully.

His arms wrapped around you in a familiar, comforting embrace. Something inside you swelled, gnawing its way up from your stomach to your throat to the tip of your tongue. You burst at the seams as you turned to look at Hyunjin.

"I love you." you said with a breath of relief, with a flutter of your heart, with everything you had within you. Hyunjin's eyes went wide as he teared up slightly, his lips trembling.

"I love you." he said, smiling brighter than the sun, his confession carrying a promise of forever.

You giggled, eliciting a giggle from him too before the two of you started laughing in relief, in happiness, in excitement.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" you smiled as you looked back at the view of the city and Hyunjin's arms tightened around you.

"Move to Paris with me." Hyunjin said suddenly and you almost choked on air as you turned to look at him.

"W-what?" you chuckled in disbelief, putting your cup aside as your hand trembled.

"Let's buy a little house in Paris, somewhere in the countryside, have a garden. We could have a studio there where you can dance and I can paint. We can live on bread and wine for all I care. I'll teach you French, we'll be happy there. Let's leave this fucking city filled with too many memories and make our own in the city of love."

"Hyunjin, that's - isn't that sudden?" your stomach started doing flips as he looked at you excitedly.

"Life is short, you know that. Let's not waste any second and do whatever we want. What do you say?" he grabbed your face, smiling at you sweetly.

"Fuck it, let's move to Paris." you said and he laughed happily, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, spinning you around until you were both dizzy.

"Je t'aime, mon cœur." Hyunjin held onto you tightly.

"I love you too."

Your feet may have touched the ground physically when Hyunjin put you down, but your soul was still floating, wrapped up in his love.

The fireplace was crackling, casting a warm hue over Hyunjin's smiling face. He poked at the fire absentmindedly as he sat on the soft carpet while you watched him, leaning on the door frame. You still had to get used to the complete change of the scenery; seeing endless fields of green grass out of your window was something completely different than the bustling city view you used to find comfort in.

As if sensing your presence, Hyunjin turned to look at you, his smile deepening, the sweet lovesick look on his face ever-present.

"Had a nice bath?" he asked, putting the fire poker aside.

"Mhm." you slowly made your way to him, and Hyunjin's heart jumped in his throat when his eyes caught site of you bare legs under the silky robe you were wearing.

"I finished washing the dishes." he said, staring at your plushy thighs as you came closer to him.

He looked up at you in awe, his eyes big and pleading as his lips parted. You smirked a little, untying the knot on the robe before you opened it up slowly to reveal a red lacy set you had put on after your bath.

"Oh. Wow." he gulped while you let the robe slowly slide down to the floor. "Y/n." Hyunjin turned to you, kneeling on the rug, his hands coming up to touch your smooth skin and grip at your flesh. His eyes became hazy instantly as he circled his arms around you, gripping at your backside while his lips pressed on your skin. Hyunjin kissed your thighs gently as he kept massaging your ass, his face coming closer to your dripping core. You tangled your hand in his hair, caressing him and patting him as your breathing got deeper.

"My goddess." Hyunjin whispered, lips ghosting on the skin right above your panties.

"Hyunjin." you whispered back, tightening the hold in his hair as he kissed the lace, tracing his lips to your clit. You spread your legs just a little, enough for him to lick at you with his tongue, making you tremble against him while he kissed and licked at your clit, tasting your arousal on his tongue.

A whimper of his name left your lips as he gripped at your hips and pressed his tongue harder against you, hungry to have more of you. Your legs buckled and Hyunjin gently pulled you down into his lap and you sat with your legs wrapped around him, your core pressing into his, making you moan.

"Let me have you, my muse." his hands slid up and down on your thighs. "Give yourself to me." he laid you down on the carpet as the fireplace kept crackling next to you.

"Take me." you whispered and he kissed you hungrily, his hands on your breasts, squeezing and worshipping, desperate and loving, driving you completely insane. He pressed his body against yours, kissing you harder, taking all your breath away from your lungs.

You grabbed at him like he was the only thing keeping you afloat, keeping your head above the deep water.

"Ah, my angel. Mon amour." Hyunjin whined against your skin as he kissed and nipped at your breasts.

"Lover." you breathed out, pulling on his hair a little as he gently played with your clit, the lace getting soaked with your slick as your pussy clenched around nothing.

"Mm." Hyunjin wrapped his lips around your nipple, still covered by the lace as he swiped his tongue over it repeatedly, making you shake against him.

You dug your nails into his arm, your other hand still tangled in your hair as he continued moving his fingers faster and sucking harder, bringing you to the edge as you came in your panties with his name on your lips.

"Oh." you gasped and Hyunjin giggled.

"That was fast." he smirked.

"Shut up." your face became red in embarrassment and Hyunjin looked proud.

"Relax mon cœur, I'm just as desperate for you." he whispered, grabbing your hand and leaving gentle kisses. He kissed your neck, marking you as his as his pretty fingers dipped teasingly between your folds, your wetness seeping through the lace. Hyunjin kept touching you like he was in a trance, lips traveling down to your breasts again and then your stomach until his breath hit your core. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked at them, moaning quietly.

"The sweetest fruit." he smirked before putting his lips on your lower ones, licking at you like he was thirsty for your juice. You jolted as your eyes rolled back, your legs falling open completely and hands by your sides as you dug your fingers into the carpet underneath you.

"H-Hyunjin!" you kept shaking and trembling against him as he licked at you, the lace now completely wet so he pushed it aside, sticking his tongue inside you and making you whimper loudly as you grabbed at his hair. Hyunjin moaned into your pussy, his body shaking too as you drove him crazy with your moans and reactions. He pushed his pants and underwear down, grabbing his throbbing cock and stroking himself as he ate you out while you pushed his head harder into you.

"Ah fuck!" you groaned as you exploded, cumming on his tongue and lips hard and Hyunjin moaned, gripping his cock to stop himself from finishing too early as he lapped up your juices.

"Mm, my love." he leaned back to get rid of his clothes. "I need to feel you around me."

"Please." you whimpered.

"You never have to beg, I'll give you anything you want, ma chérie." Hyunjin pressed his tip against you and you pulled him in closer with your legs. He smirked and grabbed them both, pushing them together and leaning them on his shoulder. You whimpered when his tip breached you, the position making you more tight for him.

"So tight." his eyes rolled back as he pushed in deeper. "You take me so well every time."

"Mm." your arched into him as he filled you up completely, his cock throbbing inside your pussy.

"Fuck me, Hyunjin." you moaned and he gripped at your legs, fucking into you hard. You couldn't help the loud whimpers escaping your lips as his hips pounded into you. His hands left imprints in your thighs as he fucked you and kissed your calf and foot, sucking on your toes shortly and moaning around them. You couldn't hold it in much longer, squirting around his length as he looked at you, his hips stuttering too.

He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in as he spread your legs and laid down on top of you.

"I don't wanna cum yet." Hyunjin caressed your waist, your hands holding the back of his neck as you brought him closer, leaving soft kisses everywhere on his face, his jaw, his lips and his neck. He gasped and moaned quietly, straining his neck as you licked and suckes on his skin, marking him.

"Let's take it slow." he whispered, kissing the spot under your ear.

"Yes, I want to feel you." you moaned and Hyunjin started moving his hips slowly as he looked at you with eyes full of love.

"How glad I am that I walked into the theater that one evening." he smiled, gently massaging your breasts.

"Probably as much as I'm glad I walked into your gallery randomly." you smiled back at him as you played with his hair and touched his cheeks.

"La vie sans toi est inimaginable." he whispered.

"I can't imagine my life without you either." you whispered back and Hyunjin smiled lovingly at you. You don't know how long you indulged in each other, whispering sweet nothings and giving each other soft kisses. The fire died down just a little as you reached your high, both of you moaning "I love you's" in each other's ears.

Getting lost in one another's embrace in the quiet and intimate atmosphere, lying in the precious, blissful happiness was rewarding every time.

"The fire has almost died." you chuckled quietly.

"I'll make sure it always keeps burning." Hyunjin smiled at you and you giggled kissing him silly.

The first snowflakes fell down gently on your cheeks as you and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sparkly christmas lights of the busy Parisian street. People were walking and laughing around you, the world was turning round and round, it was all a blur as the two of you only saw each other, completely infatuated with the moment.

"It's been exactly a year since we drank Alsatian wine in my studio together." Hyunjin said as he turned his body towards yours.

"Really?" you chuckled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of not knowing the exact date but Hyunjin counted every beautiful second spent with you.

"Yes. We should celebrate that." he smiled cutely at you, his eyes turning into slits and his dimples showing.

"I agree." you smiled. "We should visit Alsace too."

"Of course. We can go wherever we want, ma chérie." Hyunjin gently touched your cheek and leaned in to kiss you.

"I love you." you whispered against his lips.

"I love you." Hyunjin giggled, his cheeks becoming rosy. "I know this is like a spur of a moment thing, but it feels right." he added and you looked at him questioningly.

"Spend the rest of your life with me." he smiled, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hwang Hyunjin, are you asking me to marry you?" you giggled, your heart speeding up.

"I am. Will you?" his eyes widened into an innocent puppy look he always gave you when he wanted something and you laughed in delight.

"Of course I will. There's no other way I'd rather live than to grow old with you." you clutched at him and he pulled you into a loving kiss, both of you giggling in happiness as the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkled behind your bodies.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz

[book-lore]

Okay so I wasn't going to reply to this but I am still getting over being sick and this stuck to me. And for the record, it's okay that the OP feels this way and what I'm about to say doesn't mean they are wrong or bad or anything. Let's leave that person in peace. But as to why people don't like Valentine's day and some people even hate it, a gentle reminder:

There are a wide variety of reasons people can find certain holidays objectionable and one that tackles love specifically can be especially difficult for people who are struggling. A recent divorcee might wish to sit this day out because it can bring up how difficult being newly out of a relationship can be. This can be made even worse if the relationship was decades long and they aren't sure how to navigate the world of being single that looks nothing like when they were dating before. People who struggle socially who want relationships can find this to be a day that makes them feel a little more lonely. People who have lost a partner might feel their absence more acutely, even if that loss was years ago. People who have escaped abusive situations might have extremely mixed or hostile feelings about Valentines day (especially given how violent partners tend to become worse around holidays and this is extra true where the abused party is expected to behave a certain way). People who are in the closet might be feeling particularly confused or wounded right now as they feel worlds away from being able to accept or even find love.

The point of this isn't to drag the original poster, but it can be good to understand why sometimes hearts can be delightful for some and heavy for others. I know that some people can be well intentioned and say things like "think of the chocolate and candy" or "it's made up anyway" or "celebrate it with your friends instead", but those aren't really helpful. Love and its reminders can mean a lot of things to people and sometimes they bring up the bad emotions. Sometimes what people need isn't candy or hearts or even a pretend reason to see a friend. Sometimes they need to cry and a day that reminds them of loss or something they lack is what does it for them. Sometimes what they need is to know that they aren't the only one who feels like that when stores and displays and everything around them seems to point out what's making them feel sore.

It's okay to enjoy Valentine's Day. There are plenty of ways to do so if that's what you like. It's also okay to sit it out if you're sore or you're feeling a lot. It's alright if it's just another day in February.

dont understand people who "don't like" valentines day... I personally dgaf that its "made up" and "commercialist"... i love heart shaped things and i love everyone in my life. Its really simple