#and all of the problems she had with me were misunderstandings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetiechenle · 3 months ago

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reading between the lines ✦ jeno

pairing: collegestudent!literatureprodigy!jeno x afab!collegestudent!scienceandmathgenius!reader

summary: jeno was the biggest problem you've ever had to solve, but for him you weren't quite an open book either.

w.c: 9.4k

warnings: mdni 18+, MATH, i did so much research i feel like i need to cite my sources, thank you quizlet, angst, hurt and comfort, frenemies to lovers, fluff, jeno and y/n argue a lot and yell at each other, teasing, misunderstandings, YEARNING, kissing, make-ups and confessions, plot WITH porn, love making very intimate, hard with feelings and refuse to listen to each other, unprotected sex (i better not catch y'all doing this), praising, crying, begging, groveling, pet names (baby), oral (f receiving), creampie (YUM), softdomtop!jeno (just as god intended), crack/humor, scientific talk because smart (i never took bio in college), if i forgot anything pls lmk. reblogs and feedback appreciated ♡ fiction ≠ reality. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENO!!!

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment. you had been dreading today, your world literature 1 professor had told you all a week ago that you would be paired up with a partner for your first project. your major in biology and minor in actuarial mathematics required some literature classes to help with ‘scientific writing and understanding’ as your advisor put it. so you figured world literature 1 was the easiest choice, it turned out to actually be hell on earth. your weakest subject was english and literature, you were never a reader growing up unless it was about different sciences, but you always opted for documentaries and videos than reading. growing up, you’d always dread english class, anxiously waiting for whatever science and math class you could have next.

when you tell people that your favorite subject is math and then science they would laugh and usually end it with an ‘i wish’, that was your english and history, you wish you could understand it better, but it always seemed impossible. what you were least expecting was getting paired with the best literature student you knew, jeno. he annoyed you at times, acting like a pretentious asshole going around and quoting shakespeare and some other century-dead author. when you went and quoted pythagroas near him it was now apparently a problem, you two bickered back and forth in class during group introductions about greek philosophers for almost an hour, debating if aristotle was more of a math genius or a linguistics expert.

after the heated discussion, jeno told you ‘i love a good debate, you have some crazy opinions though’ he ended up giving you his phone number. it was only the first week of classes, your first ‘friend’(?), you texted him that night, but no response came. the next week you were struggling with questions your professor had given you all to go with a reading.

you texted jeno:

‘hey is this correct? *PICTURE ATTACHED*

his response chimed on your phone five minutes later:

‘no’

and that was the only response you got, no help, no explanation, you didn’t even know what was wrong with your answer to begin with. fuck this, you ended up calling him, to your surprise he answered with a ‘what?’

you didn’t mean to blow up on him, but it just came out, ‘why can’t you be nice to me for one second and help me with this student homework?’

he sighed, making your ear vibrate with the sound, ‘take back what you said and i’ll help you’

you grumbled but obliged, ‘this homework and reading is not stupid, now please help me’

you guys ended up talking on the phone for almost two hours, discussing different themes from the reading, mostly arguing about who was right, but in the end jeno helped you get answers that were good enough. he talked you through the questions and the actual themes of the reading, the elements, and showed you how to better analysis pieces of literature. you were eternally grateful but absolutely mortified at the same time.

after that phone call, you were psyched, finally finding someone that could help you pass. you were always the person in math classes that everyone went to, you didn’t have to be that person for others anymore. although you remember all the emotional baggage and difficulty when trying to help others study and understand formulas, you wouldn’t ask much of jeno, only when you really needed it.

two weeks ago you found him in the library, doing homework with books scattered around him. the first thing you noticed were glasses that he had never worn before, big frames making his eyes look much bigger in such a cute way. you figured if you asked he wouldn’t mind if you joined him, and you figured that if you asked in an even nicer way, he could help you with the literature homework.

‘hey jeno!’ you greeted him, walking up to his table, he looked up, pink lips still in a straight line, ‘would you mind if i joined you?’

‘i guess not’ he shrugged and moved some of his books out of the way for you, now sitting across from him you smiled slightly and got out your own homework. abstract algebra was your favorite class so far this semester, you never thought getting homework would make you so giddy. you couldn’t believe some people found it excruciating, while it was just a ‘fun activity’ for you. you and jeno continue work in silence, you would steal glances every once in a while, his eyes scanning over the paper as he scribbled down notes and highlight sentences. eyebrows knitting together and whispering out words in order to analyze everything perfectly. you thought it was cute, his lips would curl up into a smile after every question got answered. sitting in front of him, you could see the perfect slope of his nose, his broad shoulders slouched as he leaned into the desk, his large hand brushing his black hair back sporadically. the golden ratio had nothing on him.

not long after the trance jeno left you in, you finished your math homework and now it was time for your enemy: literature. you looked up and glanced at jeno who was writing notes down, ‘hey’ he lifted his head, ‘do you think you could help me with this?’ you motioned down to the paper in front of you, he followed and noticed your blank page compared to his one that was filled.

‘did you even try?’ he questioned, ‘it looks like you haven’t even started’

‘well’ you started with a sheepish smile, ‘i did do the reading, but i could barely understand any of it’

he sighed, his hands reaching under his glasses so he could rub his eyes, ‘okay, and what part did you not understand?’

you grabbed your packet of papers and flipped until you found the sentence, reading out loud, ‘his sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit’, you looked up at him, offering the best pleading eyes you could muster.

he slightly rolled his eyes, ‘so, basically darcy should put away his pride of being in a higher ranking than elizabeth, but he cares more about her status than love. even while he is proposing, he still looks down on elizabeth and wants her to feel grateful that he is even considering her as a wife’

‘oh, i never thought of it that way’ you mumbled, looking down at your paper again.

‘don’t they teach you stuff like this in high school? god, i fear for your grade when we actually have to read and analyze a whole book and not just passages for exercises’

the sentence was a stab to the heart, taken aback you said nothing as shame burned through your body. growing up you’d have teachers, friends, and your parents comment on your lack of understanding for english and literature, but you’ve never heard a remark like this. it cut deep, you opened and closed your mouth, unable to give an actual response, incapable of making any snide comeback, you gathered your things, got up and walked away from him. before he started to see the tears that made its way down your face.

you avoided jeno as much as you could, you sat nowhere near him in your shared class, never looked in his direction in the courtyard and started taking different routes to other classes. it was working out great for the most part, that was until he had transferred into your biology ‘unity of life’ class three weeks into the semester, at the very last minute of course. rumors were going around that a lot of students had transferred out of his previous one due to it ‘being too hard’ and that the professor ‘was a nightmare’ and he needed a natural science requirement for his major, secondary education if you could remember correctly.

seeing him walk through the door of one of your favorite classes was a different type of personal hell, and you were having a great day so far. you softly groaned, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. your desk partner seemed to catch on, jaemin turned to you, ‘whats wrong? forgot to do last nights homework?’

you turned towards him, ‘never, i was so excited for this assignment, i finished all the questions as soon as i got home… it’s just… that guy, the one who just walked in’ you glanced back to his lab table, jaemin followed with his eyes, ‘i’m in his literature class and he’s nothing but an egomaniac, basically called me dumb for not understand some passage from a book’

the blond haired boy frowned, ‘he might know some books, but wait until he gets a taste of a real challenge, he transferred too late into the semester, he’s fucked’. your lips twitched up into a smile. you met jaemin the first day of class, introducing himself as a veterinarian science major with a minor in biology. you two became quick friends after you got him coffee one morning, you ended up with two cups after the cafe got your first order wrong. he was nothing but thankful, long discussions in class that lead to topics that never related to science. you got to know him pretty well, often texting and meeting up for study groups with other students from class, you both always paired up in class whenever prompted.

‘that’s fair, would be satisfying to watch him struggle’ you whispered.

he giggled, ‘god you sound like such a sadist’

the professor pulled up his notes as he prepared for the beginning of class, ‘takes one to know one’

you opened your notebook to the current lesson: the cytoskeleton. the professor went through the slideshow while you happily took notes on cells and its structure and stabilities within the cytoplasm. once the professor was done with the lecture, he started asking students questions, seeing if they were paying attention.

‘okay, now what is a delicate coil held together by hydrogen bonding between every fourth amino acid?’ he looks over his roster of students, ‘jeno! why don’t you answer this for us’

on cue, everyone turned to watch him, his head shot up from his notebook in surprise. he obviously looked unprepared, hands nervously pushing his bangs back. ‘oh… um, i don’t know i’m sorry professor, i transferred late into this class and still need to catch up’ his hair looked wild as the tips of his ears shone a bright red.

the poor professor sighed, ‘does anyone want to help jeno out?’

you immediately shot up your hand, ‘y/n?’

you smiled dramaticly, before another breathe you answered, ‘alpha helix’

‘yes, thats correct! great job y/n… now you all need to pay attention, this will be on our first exam coming up in two weeks’ he went on about amino acids and different elements. jaemin leaned into you, ‘nice’ he whispered, a smile on his face. yeah, that would show jeno what you could do.

you peeked back at jeno who whispered ‘two weeks!?’ to himself looking distressed, you felt a pang in your heart. perhaps it wasn’t fair, stuff like this was never taught in secondary school science classes, obviously he was going to struggle. you weren’t going to seek him out and offer help though, he knew science and arithmetic were your strong suits, it was his turn to come running, beg for forgiveness and ask for help.

speak of the asshole, and it shall fart, jeno texted you later that night.

‘hey…’ you scoffed, the audacity of this guy, you resisted the urge to text him back a ‘you should know this already right?’

you texted back a simple ‘what?’

he immediately answered, ‘do you think you could help me with this bio homework and maybe study together for the exam ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡’. shameless.

giving him the benefit of the doubt, you relented. maybe it was an off day for him, ‘i guess, meet me in the library tomorrow, and we’ll start’ he hearted the message and that was the end of the conversation.

you woke up early the next day, grabbing every notebook you had kept over the years that could help jeno. you texted him right after noon, ‘this is an all day affair, meet me in an hour and bring me a caramel macchiato. don’t be late, pride & prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he liked the message as a response. you left your dorm and headed to the library, setting up a space for a long study session. jeno comes right on time, with two coffees in his hand.

he places the bigger cup down in front of you, ‘large caramel macchiato, with extra caramel, extra vanilla, and extra drizzle’

you look up at him and give him a modest smile, grabbing the drink and taking a sip from the straw and swirling the ice around the cup, ‘thank you, lets get started’ he nodded and pulled out the chair next to you and sat down.

you got out all your notebooks, his eyes widened making you giggle, ‘jesus christ dude, how many notebooks do you have for this class?’

‘well, not all of them are from this class, i brought some from previous classes that i think could help you’ you handed over a stack of notes, which he begrudgingly took. ‘okay, now lets get started…’

you two had spent hours discussing carbohydrates, cellulose, and enzymes. sometimes arguing back and forth about answers, ‘okay so, a system of membranes that modifies and packages proteins for export by the cell?’ you asked jeno as he flipped through his notes.

‘um… integrins?’ he answered, totally unsure of himself in the process.

you smiled, ‘not quite, its the golgi apparatus, integrins are cell-surface receptor proteins… crazy how you don’t remember this from basic biology classes…’ you mumbled the last part.

but of course he still caught it, ‘what was that?’

you shrugged your shoulders, ‘i mean we learn about cells and stuff in secondary school… everyone knows that the golgi apparatus is the packaging and distribution center of the cells, i mean everyone talks about how the mitochondria is the power house of the cell, is that the only thing you remember from biology?’

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, ‘oh? so that's what this is about?’ he smirked, ‘you’re still upset about what i said last week aren’t you?’

your gaze diverted from his line of sight, thankful you wore your hair down this morning so he wouldn’t see the pink burning on the tips of your ears. ‘no… i’m just saying’

‘...saying almost the same exact thing i said?’ jeno smiled, and his eyes turned into crescent moons, happy that he caught you in the act, ‘understandable… well, uh, if you help me, i’ll help you’

you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him, ‘not until you apologize, not everyone can be as good as you in literature’

‘okay, i’m sorry, you are a genius in math and science, now please agree’ jeno pleaded.

‘fine’ you answered.

another week passed and jeno finally felt comfortable taking the exam, on the other hand your literature professor started talking about a project for that class. jeno reassured you that he would help you in the best way he could, he helped you with literary analysis, notations, and rhetoric. you ended up getting an 85% percent on the most recent homework, excited to show jeno you made your way to the classroom.

‘so, jeno, i’ve been seeing you hanging out with that y/n person in our class’ you stopped before the entrance to the classroom, ‘they literally know nothing about literature and refuse to learn, how could you put yourself through that?’

‘oh, well, um, i don’t know, i’m just helping them with some stuff’ jeno answered. you peeked inside, he was with two other students, a girl and a boy, sitting together in a group.

‘must be pretty frustrating, i don’t know why they are even in this class, fucking moron, am i right?’ the girl responded and you could hear the others, but jeno, laugh.

you could feel your heart break as your mind begin to buzz. eyes watered, and you thought back to your discussion with jaemin, of course you guys were poking fun at jeno too, but nothing this extreme. ‘i mean, i guess one could think that, but everything about th-’ you couldn’t listen anymore, turned your heels and stormed off. stopping at the end of the hallway to through your graded paper away in anger and humiliation. after everything you both did for each other, it made your blood boil in anger and betrayal, you had to get back home. you paced to your dorm, keeping your head down so no one would notice you and your state of mind right now. skipping one literature class wouldn’t hurt.

so it did, and now here you are, sitting in your literature class with the professor reading out the pairings for the first project. for the rest of the week and over the weekend, you had ignored jeno’s texts and calls, you decided you were finally done with his games. ‘y/n and jeno’ the professor read out to the class.

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment.

your professor nodded and resumed her list of partners, after she announced to the class, ‘now sit with your partners and discuss what you all want to do for your projects for the rest of class’

you groaned, you weren’t ready to face jeno yet, you probably never would be. you never wanted to see or speak to him ever again, you shuffled to his seat, taking your time to get over to him and sit down.

‘hey’ he said, ‘you’ve been ignoring me this whole week, whats up?’

fake ass bitch, you thought, he didn’t care, ‘nothing, just not a good week i guess’

he frowned, ‘damn, well, if it makes you feel better, i got a 90% on my first bio exam!’ he beamed, ‘so at least now you know your hard work is paying off’

‘that’s great, glad you’ve been getting at least something out of this’ you deadpanned.

he gave you a quizzical look, but decided to drop the subject, ‘so, for the project i was thinking about covering the tenant of wildfell hall’

you literally didn’t care and let him pick whatever, ‘yeah that’s fine’

his eyes narrowed, giving you a weird look again, ‘okay… so, the book has themes of double standards, religion, morality, and love. i can send you passages that we can cover for our project…’. jeno went on for the next thirty minutes with only little nods and comments from you, agreeing to anything he had to suggest. all you wanted to do was leave, once the professor dismissed class that's what you did, picking up your backpack and storming off with jeno still talking.

you rushed down the hallway, ignoring the calls coming from jeno behind you. with his crazy athletic built he eventually caught up to you, grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. you gazed up at him, he stared down at you, looking for any answer he could find. ‘what is your problem? i thought you’d be happy we were paired up?’ he started interrogating you.

you sighed, almost giving up, ‘jeno, can we just meet up later and talk about it? i’m exhausted right now’

he sighed and his hands fell from your shoulders, ‘i’ll text you’ he nodded, and you turned around and left. once at your dorm you threw your backpack to the side and climbed into your bed, taking a well needed nap. a few hours later, your phone vibrating next to you pulled you out of dream land.

3 missed texts from jeno:

‘y/n, are you able to come over to my apartment soon?’

‘plz stop being so stubborn its annoying plz just talk to me’

‘here’s the address lmk when ur on the way’

you texted him back:

‘sorry i was taking a nap’

‘i can be there in a bit’

you got up and got ready, grabbed your backpack and left for jeno’s. once you got there it took you a good five minutes to have the courage to knock on his door. hesitant you tenderly knocked on the door, after a second he opened up the door and let you inside without another word. he was in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and smelled immaculate, you gulped, raking your eyes over his body, strong arms and long legs, a face without imperfections. your heart burned in anger and panic, angry that he was so gorgeous it pissed you off, panic because all you could think was what the fuck am i doing right now? ‘do you want to sit down? i saw you brought your backpack, we can work on some stuff if you want?’

you nodded, walked over to the couch and plopped down, grabbing your backpack you opened it and got your laptop out, pulling up the notes from your calculus 2 class. jeno joined you on the couch, sitting a little bit to close for comfort, but you said nothing. his bare leg brushed against your clothed one, sending a buzzing sensation all throughout your body, trying your best to ignore him you stayed focused on your screen.

question 1: x³ + 2x² - 6z = 4 - 2y²

without a second thought you typed in the answer:

r³cos³0 + 2r² - 6z = 4

submitting it you smiled as the green checkmark popped up, correct on the first try. ‘damn, that’s crazy’ jeno broke the silence, you glanced over at him.

‘what?’ you said turned back to your laptop.

‘i literally understood none of that and you got it on the first try!? that’s literally fucking insane’

you laughed at his outburst, ‘it’s nothing really, it was kind of easy, just plug in the following x and y polar conversion formulas into the equation where possible, then you just rewrite everything and use the formulas to convert the equation into cylindrical coordinates’

jeno howled in laughter, which was contagious enough to make you laugh, ‘that’s insane, you’re amazing’

you cocked your head to the side, intrigued by his word choice, ‘oh? am i?’

his demeanor changed, the air felt heavy as he calmed down and moved closer to you. he leaned in, and you panicked, he glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. his long eyelashes met his cheeks, you followed suit and closed your eyes, ignoring the way your mind is screaming at you not to do this. heart says otherwise, as you could hear it beat in your ears, whole body buzzing as his pink, soft lips brushed against yours.

jeno moved in deeper, teeth clinking together as you ravaged your mouth, he was a starved man, and you were the last meal he would ever receive. it was warm and sensual, he reached around your waist and roughly pulled your torso into his. his nose bumped into yours as he moved his head slightly for better access, laptop completely abandoned to the side your arms lifted to his biceps, squeezing hard as you let out a soft moan. you broke the kiss as you pressed against his arms, your forehead leaned on his as you both caught your breath, between pants he smiled and laughed, you did not. anxiety ran your blood cold as now all you could think of was what he had said in the classroom about you. was this all a joke?

‘jeno…’ you started, and his smile faltered, ‘i can’t do this’ you stood up and grabbed your laptop and shoved it haphazardly into your backpack, heatedly rushing out of his apartment and down the hall to the entrance. again you ignored jeno as he called after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. you pushed the heavy door open and the air hit you with the wind flying through your hair. continuing down the lamp-lighted street, the boy was still trying to catch up to you.

‘y/n please, we forgot to talk about it’ he addressed your almost non-existent figure fading into the darkness.

he was hopeless by now, but still refused to give up, he moved again, ‘y/n!’

you stopped and turned around, walking up to him his build now growing hazy as water pooled in your eyes. ‘you wanna talk about it? you WANT to talk about it? FINE, you are such a stuck-up asshole, thinking i’m so stupid because i don’t have the best grade in our lit class. laughing about it with your friends when they call me a moron! you think you’re so great you didn’t even know what the chemical symbol was for sulfur, FUCKING SULFUR JENO’ you were yelling at this point, jabbing your finger into his chest with every emphasis in your anger. ‘you think you can play me in some fucked up game you have going on in your head, keeping me around so you can feel better about yourself and use me for help so you could pass an exam, i know i’ve asked you for help before, but at the end of it, all i wanted to do was be your friend, you could’ve said no, but i couldn’t. you gave me no choice but to give in with the deal that you’d help me in return, and you know what? i needed the help, badly. and you knew that and used it in a discussion with your friends that laughed at me because of it, you know how that made me feel? like absolute shit, i wanted to be your friend but all you have ever done was use me and hurt me, and guess what? you don’t have to fear for’ fingers motioning air quotations, ‘my grade because i got a good grade on my homework thanks to you, so thank you jeno! i really appreciate the help, i hope it really boosted your ego, maybe you can go fucking write a book about it or something, i don’t know and i don’t care, but i’m done’ your face was probably beet red at this point, while angry tear's avalanche down your face, you hastily whipped your face and snot that escaped during your outburst. his face focused into view, he was so pretty, and that made you tear up all over again, he could have been different.

he looked defeated, frustrated as his fists clenched into balls and relax over and over, ‘y/n, please let me explain, i di-’ you stopped him, placing your hand in front of his face.

‘do the math jeno, the probability that i would ever hear you out is slim…’ you turned and started walking away, briefly glancing back, he was still in the same spot. ‘it’s S by the way, the symbol for sulfur, maybe now you’ll remember it when you think back on this night… not so proud after all’ your voice cracked at the last sentence as your heart wrenched and stomach mangled, tears breaking through yet again.

you left him there.

you decided not to tell jaemin about what happened, but jeno’s absence was evident. you couldn’t sleep, all that replayed in your nightmare was his soft lips brushing against yours, and you swore you could still feel his strong arms pulling you forward, into him. the feeling that gave you clawed at your heart, beating you down every single time you closed your eyes and pictured his face smiling at you, laughing at you, annoyed at you. anything he gave you, you would take, no matter how much it broke you down. you liked him, no, you like him. even after everything he’s done, you still held a soft spot for him in your fractured heart. all the phone calls that turned into facetime when he would ask for help with math, and you had to show him the steps of a problem. laughing every time you would shake trying to hold your phone steady as he jokingly squawked, ‘keep still!’ when he would read passages to you over the phone late at night, and you’d have fallen asleep to his tender voice before he could even explain the motif. it had only been 5 weeks of class, but it felt like you had known him longer, despite your differences in subjects you both eventually subsided the arguments with long discussions and debates on why one answer was right and how the other was wrong. revelations that came to light after hours of going back and forth.

you stood in the shower, blankly staring at the white ceramic wall in front of you as droplets rained down. you thought about the day you and jeno were studying in the library, renting a study room within because you figured the discussion would be heated. it ended up in a feverish battle between the differences of cell adhesion and cell migration. by the end of it you were standing up, hands pulling at your roots in irritation trying to explain it to the boy sat down in front of you with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. ‘y/n, y/n, stop, stop, please, i can’t take it anymore’ he laughed, clutching his stomach, ‘i got it, while they are tightly associated, cell adhesion provides structural support and stability to tissues, while cell migration is the directed movement of cells from one location to another’

your arms dramatically dropped to your sides, ‘YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME’ pointing, you accused him.

he laughed again at your reaction, ‘i just love seeing you like that, it’s cute, you know i just love a challenge’ he exclaimed going back to his notes.

you laughed to yourself, recalling the moment of the playful banter and subtle flirting that slipped out on occasion. you giggled, howled, and snorted a little too much at the memory, which silently followed into your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach, the shower masking the uncontrollable sobs that carried through every limb, appendage, and bone.

jaemin went on and on about some story about his roommates, you paid barely any attention, eyes glued to the door as you waited to see if he would show up. the blond boy slurred his words, leaning into you now, trying to get you to look at him. you turned your body, he was giving you a pouty face with big, shining eyes, ‘i asked you a question y/nnie. were you even listening to me?’ he tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie, his strength made you feel like a rag doll.

‘i was… and the answer is yes?’ you said, unsure about whatever he was yapping about.

he beamed and clapped playfully, ‘yippie! i knew you could use a pick-me-up, i promise it’ll be fun, the party is saturday so clear your schedule, i’ll pick you up’

your shoulder shook as you lightly laughed at his theatrics, rubbing your temple in exasperation as to what you just got yourself into, ‘sounds like fun’. you barely noticed jeno walking in out of the corner of your eye. he looked worse than you did, a hoodie with a stain, sweats that looked they were able to fall apart, mis-matched socks and unkempt hair. he kept pushing his glasses up his nose and rubbing his tired eyes. your heart skipped a beat when you noticed his dark circles that almost matched yours, his being a little worse for wear. before he could catch you staring, you quickly focused your attention to the professor starting class, going through the roaster and continuing the lecture on cells.

‘can anyone tell me the variations in cell types? jeno, got an answer?’ the professor smiled at him, everyone turned to spectate and wait for him to answer, except you.

‘um, prokaryotic and eukaryotic’ he dragged, sounding uninterested despite getting the question right.

‘yes! very good jeno’ the professor praised, moving on to the next question. you started to sweat, angry that he got it right and yet you were now holding on your high c- in literature class. how come he could now catch onto science but yet, you were still unable to grapple with the concepts of a victorian classic novel? or maybe it was the fact you had skipped every class this week, refusing to work with jeno on anything, you noticed the text and calls from him were dwindling three days after the confrontation, however everyday he sent pictures of his notes and analysis on the reading and how the project was going. as pathetic as it was, you continue to lay awake in bed nearly every night rereading his text from that night:

i know you are angry and probably hate me right now and that’s understandable, but i don’t want to give up on you, on us. do you think newton gave up on the laws of motion after he failed on the first or second try? you aren’t getting the whole picture, plz give me a chance to explain, i don’t even know if you are reading this, but if you are, plz hear me out you got it all wrong about that day in the classroom, and if it felt like i was using you, i’m sorry. that was never my intention, i just like being around you, you are always quick-witted and i was just trying to taunt you so you’d pay attention to me because i really like you, ig that backfired badly lol. anyway, i hope this will change your mind, and you’ll reach out, i’ll give you time.

followed by a very unserious message that you couldn’t help but smile at:

oh, i almost forgot, don’t worry about the project, but you could come to class, i’m starting to fear for your grade again (,,>﹏<,,) (only kidding!)

another biology class and 2 skipped lit classes pass and the weekend was finally brought upon the world. you held the pleasure of assisting jaemin to a party hosted by someone he knew from one of his health classes. it took forever for you to pick out a cute outfit, but opted for a sleeveless shirt and basic jean shorts and a pair of white sneakers you found buried in the back of your small closet. you carefully did your makeup, usually not taking it too far, but this was special, and you needed to feel like a bad bitch tonight.

jaemin showed up an hour later, deciding to walk to the house 4 blocks down, saying he wanted ‘to get turnt with you’ and that he refused to drink and drive. you agreed, walking sounded better than looking for a driver or someone having to stay sober throughout the night. you exited your building and found jaemin’s car in the lot, he climbed out to greet you and whistled, eyes eating up your form, ‘damn, you look hot’

you smiled bashfully, ‘thanks jaemin, even nerds can be hot you know?’

he turned to lock his car, ‘i mean, yes, but like, you always look cute, but this is like the freaky side of you, it’s different… it’s nice’

you cackled, ‘please never call me freaky ever again, i’m going to revoke your brain rot privileges’

he admitted defeat and dropped the conversation, you both now walked down the sidewalk in perfect silence with the sun now set, surveying the rows of houses in different stages of life in the moon glow. ‘it’s this one’ jaemin nudged you, stopping, he pointed to the house on the corner, you nodded and wrapped your arm around his, linking together so you immediately wouldn’t get lost in the sea of a potential crowd. he opened the old, green door, and you followed, as expected there was a good amount of people attending and as the night worn on you figured more would pile in.

jaemin turned to you, ‘do you wanna go find some drinks?’

‘yes, please’ you quickly nodded as he pulled you through the throng of people, trying to find the kitchen.

once you were there, the host of the party seemed to also be there, ‘jaemin! glad you could make it man’ they dabbed each other up and touched shoulders embracing in a ‘bro hug’.

‘hell yeah, no way i’d not come for the first party of the semester, i brought my friend along with me!’ he pulled you closer to him, now giving you the floor as all attention was pulled towards you, wincing as jaemin jabbed at your side, urging you to get closer to his friend.

‘hi, i’m y/n’ you said giving him a genuine smile, holding out your hand.

‘oh my, you are gorgeous, and you came with this sleaze bag’ he nodded towards jaemin who just playfully hit his friends shoulder, ‘i’m donghyuck, but everyone calls me haechan, its a pleasure to meet you’ he softly took a hold of your hand and bent down to give it a little peck, you giggled at the eccentric greeting.

jaemin tore haechan away, ‘alright, not too much now’ he joked, ‘it’s time for shots’ haechan clapped and guided you both to the kitchen island that was filled with different alcohol, he picked out a clear liquid and poured them into plastic shot cups he grabbed from a neat stack. jaemin lifted up his cup, ‘fuck pharmacology’ you snickered at his comment and raised your cup along with haechan who nodded in agreement. on cue, you threw back the cup and shuddered as the sweet nectar burned your throat. ‘hell yeah! another! at the end of the night i want to be able to forget about fucking blood urea nitrogen and blood glucose’ haechan laughed and poured another in all 3 cups. after that it was another, and then another, and after about 6 shots you tapped out and opted for a gin and coke that haechan was more than happy to make for you.

more time had passed than you thought as more people flooded the kitchen, wrecking havoc on the choices of liquor, haechan handed you your cup and jaemin motioned for you both to move to the living room. people were dancing, some were playing beer pong off in the corner, and others were chatting on various furniture. ‘want to dance a bit?’ he whispered in your ear because of the loud music that made the floor vibrate under your seat, you could feel it rattling your brain. giving him a silent nod he grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a spot and finding the rhythm of the song. you bobbed your head to the beat and moved back and forth with jaemin in front of you, you always thought he was attractive, but you saw him nothing more than a friend, you felt comfortable around him. you nursed your drink slowly, already somewhat tipsy from the shots, you didn’t want to get drunk too fast or blackout. jaemin grabbed your free hand and twirled you around, dramatically moved your joined hands with fever. you laughed along with him, indulging him in an embarrassing, yet fun dance that probably made you both look wasted to others.

his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close much to your surprise, pleasanton’tkissmepleasedon’tkissmepleasedon’tkissme ran rampant in your mind as he leaned towards your ear ‘don’t look now, but a certain someone is staring at you from across the room, you let out a strangled breath.

‘do you know who it is?’ you whispered back.

‘jeno’ he mused and your lively spirited fell.

‘whats up? something go down with him?’ he pestered.

‘um, kinda, its a long story’ you faltered and jaemin frowned.

‘damn, that serious? his loss, he can look all he wants’ jaemin wanted to be lighthearted, make you smile again and keep jeno out of your mind. you were grateful as he pulled you into another whimsical dance, the joyful nature of his was infectious.

after a couple more songs had passed, you had downed your whole drink and let go of jaemin’s hand, ‘i’m gonna go find haechan and have him make me another drink, it was surprisingly superb’ jaemin nodded and said he would stay in the same spot for your return.

you hastily made your way to the kitchen, apologizing to others you had to push through. the small room was almost empty, haechan was nowhere in sight so you looked for a different drink. ‘having fun with jaemin?’ a voice boomed from behind you, one that you knew all too well. you slowly turned to find jeno smirking at you, leaning against the fridge adorned in a tight white shirt and ripped jeans, oh fuck this stupid earth, he just had to follow you here looking like that.

‘yes i am, actually’ you stated matter-of-factly.

his lips twitched up in amusement, ‘is that so?’ he moved in closer, eventually trapping you between him and the liquor table. jeno’s soft brown eyes met yours, searching for something inside, however, his eyes told you everything, hope, they screamed. his hand lifted towards your face, slowly brushed against the skin lighter than a feather, taking a piece of your hair and pushing it behind your ear, ‘so he wouldn’t mind this?’. his eyes fluttered closed as he bowed towards you.

before he could seal the deal, ‘jeno’ you stopped him.

he sighed, defeated, ‘just please talk to me, you said the probability was slim, but not zero, let me explain’ jeno begged, his large hands caressed your cheeks tenderly, they were soft and warm.

you could blame the alcohol as you finally let him speak his case, ‘fine, we can find somewhere private’

he smiled, eyes disappearing in relief. he grabbed your hand, leading upstairs and into an empty room, he closed the door behind him as you took a seat on the bed, ‘alright, grovel and explain’ you lifted your phone up to check the time ‘you have 10 minutes’

he gave you a smug smile, ‘that’s all i need baby, you know i love a challenge’ you rolled your eyes at his attempt to uplift the tension fogging the air. ‘that day in the classroom, you obviously didn’t stay long enough to hear what i had to say about you, at first i didn’t know how to respond being put into that position was hard, you didn’t ‘put me through anything’ though, i had nothing but fun with you, even if it was frustrating at times. we always figured it out. but when i heard what she said after i wasn’t just going to allow it, i said ‘yeah i guess one could say that’ because these people literally do not know you like i do, i finished with ‘but everything about that is completely untrue, they are willing to learn, but it's just taking longer than some of us who take a bunch of english and literature classes. if you got to actually know her you’d see how bright they actually are. a literal math genius and a real mastermind of science, could answer any question from the top of their head, it’s insane. so while we are strong in this subject, they are just stronger in other fields’ he explained, watching you intently. you wiggled under his gaze, making you feel same, but itched for him to go on, ‘i then told her that she should not speak on things she knows nothing about and left because i will not associate myself with someone who talks like that about people i care about’ he emphasized the last words carefully, grabbing hold of your hand and lifting you from the bed, ‘y/n, i’m so sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you, ever. i care about you so deeply, you show up in every romance novel i read, every poem i skim, the stories i write… it’s all you’ jeno gazed down at you, his eyes now searching for an answer, hope, and panic could only be found in his as you studied his features in the warm glow of the moon peaking through the window.

‘you really said that? you defended me?’ you questioned him quietly.

‘yes y/n, i would never let anyone hurt you, even if you aren’t in the room, because in that case, they hurt me too’

you hummed, the haze of your brain clouded any judgment you held, he was something different, the greatest math problem that needed to be solved. ‘thank you jeno, i guess it’s now my turn to apologize’

he chuckled at you, ‘no need baby’ you laughed softly, ‘now, can we pick up where we left off? you know, someone once told me that pride and prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he wagged his eyebrows at you, moving you into an embrace as he kissed the top of your head. you held on tightly, holding him as you buried your face into his chest swallowing his scent so you could save it for later.

the hug ended, but he still held you close in his arms, ‘i guess i could pick up another chapter or two’ he laughed at your poor pun and drooped down, so his lips could meet yours. it was messier than the first kissed you shared with him, wet and heated as you could taste the soju on his tongue. he moved at a faster pace, devouring you like an animal, jeno walked you towards the bed, you gave in falling down with him, with him climbing on top of you, never breaking away. teeth on teeth echoed throughout the room as you moaned, his hands exploring every part of your body, making your core burn more and more.

jeno dipped down to attack your neck in kisses and sucking at the exposed skin, hands finding a way to his hair and tugging slightly at the intimate feeling of him being closer than ever. ‘please, tell me you’re mine, please want me’ he breathed out, the air softly hitting your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he was desperate, kissing you anywhere he could and waited for you to answer.

‘y-yes jeno, i’m yours’ you choked out, ‘i want you in every way’ satisfied with your response he growled and his mouth met yours once more, ‘p-please touch me’ you begged frantically, needing anything to ease the sensation that pooled in the pits of your stomach.

jeno hummed, fingers brushing up and down your exposed stomach, ‘where baby? use your words, remember what i taught you?’ it was your turn to make demands now, wasting no time you grabbed his hand and brought it down between your legs, he cupped your vagina. you groaned, you needed more. jeno grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down and threw them behind him, the cool air hit your core making you rub your thighs together in order to find little warmth.

he carefully pulled your underwear down, wanting to savor the moment of finally seeing you bare, he gulped, ‘god, you have such a pretty pussy’ he took his hand and rubbed the sensitive skin, ‘so wet. just for me, right? all for me baby’ you cried out at his words. he inserted a finger into your weeping hole, making you gasp out in surprise at the feeling of just one finger filling you up dangerously. as he pushed back and forth your legs trembled, he added another finger and brought his head down to your core, ‘i bet you taste amazing’ was all he said before he dove in deep, his tongue against your clit as he drank up your juices and sucked on the flesh.

‘f-fuck’ you mewled, grabbed a hold of his soft, black hair in order to keep you grounded, with every thrust he made as he fucked with his mouth you tugged on his hair, pulling when you would feel the band about to snap, jeno groaned, loving the way you’d use him for stability.

he stopped and removed his face, you whined from the loss of contact as his fingers also found their way outside of you, he smiled ‘don’t worry, my pretty baby, i’ll take care of you’. he threw off his shirt nearly getting drunker with the way you were taking him in, he loved being adored by you, in such a calculated way that made sense in every story. you followed suit and removed your top and bra, baring naked in front of him and laid back on the bed as he admired you from afar, ‘you’re so beautiful’ he breathed, discarding his pants and underwear he crawled back on top of you, whispering sweet nothing's as he peppered your collarbone and breasts with kisses.

‘are you sure you want this? it might hurt a little at first, but i promise i’ll go slow until you tell me otherwise’ he towered over you.

your glassy eyes met his in reassurance, ‘yes, jeno i want this’ you confirmed everything for him. he quickly lined up his cock with your cunt and gently pushed inside, his eyes never leaving yours. your hands grasped around his muscled biceps, digging your nails into them when the pain was strong. once he bottomed out he stopped to let you get used to his size, you shared sensual kisses and sweet touches, jeno doing everything in his power to make you feel loved and safe at that moment going forward, that’s all he ever wanted to do. for weeks, he had been beating himself up for taking the teasing comments way too far at times, poking fun at something you were obviously insecure about, but you did the same, he figured it was kind of the thing you two had. in reality, he wanted to push you to do better, making comments like that so you’d work harder and prove everyone wrong. no one could work with you better than him, so he had gone out of his way to ask the pressor to pair you up on the project, also making the forced proximity making you talk to him after you stopped answering his calls and messages. he should have gone a better way about motivating you, but now that he had your forgiveness, he could work on better strategies.

‘jeno, you can move now’ you rasped out, still holding on his arms like an anchor with a boat. he pulled out and pushed back in, taking it slow as you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, jeno picked up the pace, setting a steady rhythm as skin clapping together filled the room, ‘oh fuck, just like that’ your chest heaving up and down.

he slammed into with vigor, bitting your bottom lip as you opened your mouth to let out a breathless moan, ‘yeah? you like that? fuck, you’re so tight, literally sucking me in, i never want to leave this pretty fucking pussy’ he husked, he licked your lips and kissed your jaw as he grunted, setting a faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. he grabbed your legs and opened them wider, giving him better access to go deeper into your abused cunt. you cried as the flame in your belly raged with a thousand fires, ‘keep your eyes on me baby’ jeno demanded, automatically making you swallow as you moved your eyes to meet his, blown out pupils filled with lust as your vision of him became blurry as blissful tears threaten to fall with every snap on his hips digging into you. you’ve had flings and hook-ups before, but nothing as profound as this, the eye contact, togetherness of him never backing too far away from your hold, you were being wholly consumed by jeno. everything right down to your core, he was all you could feel, taste, see, and think about.

‘o-oh my god’ you sobbed, hips jerking up at the feeling of the ripples burning through you, the coil in your stomach tightening, craving to break open, ‘m gonna cum’ you clenched around him, making jeno hiss above you at the feeling of tightness around his throbbing dick.

‘go on baby, cum for me,’ he whimpered as the feeling for him also grew intense, the way your cunt hugged his dick was making his mind spin. jeno mumbled incoherently ‘i’m so close baby, let go, you can let go, i got you’ from his words and the way he pounded into you made you snap, legs trembling as liquid gushed from your core and past his cock and dripped onto the sheets. light-headed and dizzy you cried out for jeno as your orgasm burst over you.

you clenched again, feeling overwhelmed by the euphoric feeling, ‘oh, fuck’ jeno cursed as he stilled inside of you, painting your insides with his seed, he groaned at the sensation of finally filling you up and properly claiming you as his and his alone. he stayed there for a couple of minutes inside of you. savoring the static of the overstimulation and pleasure of release. you winced as the hot liquid poured out of you when he pulled out, the emptiness of it all. jeno watched as his cum slide down your hole and onto the sheet, he scooped up the remaining liquid that rushed out of you and shoved it back into your clit with two fingers, making you cry at the sensitivity. ‘fuck that was… one of the best experiences of my life’ he caught his breath and plopped down facing you, he gently caressed your chin, bringing your head to his as he softly left kisses on your lips, ‘let me get you cleaned up baby’

‘m tired’ you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

‘i know, but let me take care of you and get you dressed, i know theres extra clothes somewhere around here’ he started rummaging around the wardrobes, digging into them in order to find anything adequate. ‘aha!’ he put on a clean pair of underwear and sweats, ‘i’ll be right back baby’ he left the room and came back after for what felt like an eternity with a warm wash cloth and clean clothes, ‘these are mark’s girlfriends pj’s i’m sure she won’t mind,’ he hummed, wiping you clean, and dressing you in the soft, clean clothes. he picked you up so he could throw the covers back, tucking you in with a kiss on the nose, ‘you’re so cute’

you lazily smiled at him, settling into the sheets as you clung onto his warm frame, ‘who’s room is this by the way?’ you whispered as jeno shut his eyes.

‘mark’s. doesn’t matter. you’re my girlfriend now right?’ he leaned his head on yours.

‘mmm girlfriend yes. mark who?’ words fell from your mouth as you yawned, sleeping coming to find you soon.

‘mark, shark.’ he dismissed you, ‘just be ready for a stern talk when we wake up from the man himself.’ he kissed your head as you drifted off to sleep, the morning was the least of your worries now, you finally figured out the solution, the obvious answer being: jeno.

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hanginginthevoid · 2 months ago

Text

The Lighthouse

pairing: bob reynolds x fem!reader

summary: you’ve always been drawn to bob. at first you think it means something, but then you remember that yelena’s also always been drawn to bob. and its obvious that he prefers her over you.

a/n: i lovelovelovelovelove misunderstanding trope. the first thought i had leaving the theater was that i couldn’t tell if i wanted bob for myself or if i wanted him and yelena to get together, so this thought has been haunting me for a while. after this i am dried out for fic ideas, but ive been having fun writing so feel free to send reqs and ill do my best to fulfill them!

warnings: self-deprecation, misunderstandings, unrequited feelings?, kissing.., lmk if i missed sumn

word count: 3.3k

—

Outsiders would assume Bob and you were a couple. The two of you were always seen together, either doing a coffee run, or a bookstore, or the grocery store, or picking up takeout, or sometimes simply going for a walk. You’re sure the intertwined pinky’s might have swayed some elderly women in the wrong direction, but it really was just to not get separated in the crowds.

If it really was an option, you would date Bob. He just doesn’t have eyes for you.

Yelena was great, so you get why Bob would like her. She was the first person to show him unconditional kindness, probably in his whole life. The one who made sure during the whole ordeal of the vault he was safe and taken care of.

But you were there too. Weren’t you? Or did Bob just write out the fact that you were the one to pull him with you when you ran to escape the initial burning, and when you took a bullet for him since he didn’t have the reflexes to dodge.

Doesn’t matter anyway, he still only looks at Yelena like she hung the stars in the sky. Hell, he looks at her like she’s the one who blew air into his lungs to bring him to life. No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to get him to like you back.

Bob hates to be a bother, so he would rather suffer in silence instead of asking for help. You can relate to that, but you’ve helped him out after his nightmares enough times to think he would be able to wake you up when one happens. He doesn’t, so to compromise, you’ve started staying up later and later so you could hear the patter of his feet outside your door.

Maybe you should stop though. One of these days it could get you injured on a mission. How stupid would you be to get hurt over an unrequited crush.

For once, it would be nice to be chosen. Not in the way that Valentina ‘Chose’ you to be an Avenger, but chosen because of how much someone knows you. Chosen because your qualities were redeeming enough. Chosen because all of the actions that you make that you feel are unseen, really aren’t. But that would be selfish of you, you aren’t the proper type to be chosen.

—

Bob sees Yelena like a sister. Yes, during his bad days she's a light to bring him back to his senses. But you, you’re like a lighthouse, helping him guide his ship in the treacherous waters back to shore. No matter the problem, you always seemed to have the answer.

In the teams early days, he tried to help out by cooking. Very quickly, he found out he couldn’t cook. You were the first to arrive to the scene, black smoke billowing out through the doorway, smoke alarm blaring. Instead of focusing on those, you focused on Bob. He had tears in his eyes, and before anyone had even arrived he was muttering apologies.

He burnt his hand in his haste to get the meal out of the oven, hoping to prevent it from getting worse. After reminding him that mistakes happen, and that everything was fixable, you led him by his good hand to the infirmary to get him bandaged up, leaving the rest of the team to deal with the mess.

Bob can’t recall the amount of times that he’s fallen asleep in your room after a nightmare. He spent a period of time trying to not sleep, worried that the void would take over while he was in REM or something stupid like that. Whenever he did end up crashing from exhaustion, the anxiety and fear of causing havoc, or the awful memories that the void would inflict on him would wake him up. His hair would be matted all over his forehead and neck, sweat making his pajamas stick to his back and legs.

Physically, you were the closest to him, your room just one door down on his left. Yelena was farther away, on the other side of the hall at the complete other end. Maybe his subconscious heard the sliding of your door just moments prior, but he would rather think it's the undeniable pull that you have.

His knocking could have easily been missed, they were long allowing the noise to draw out because he knows he needs help, yet still soft and somewhat timid because he doesn’t want to be a bother. Nevertheless, you heard it and had the door sliding open within the minute.

You had a mug of hot chocolate in your grasp. A sleepy smile adorning your face as you asked him if he wanted to come in. You had some trashy TV playing lightly in the background as you worked on official Avengers paperwork, but you set it aside to make Bob a space in your bed.

You didn’t push him once that night. Just let him sit there in your company, watching as housewives made useless drama with each other.

When he eventually fell asleep, you tucked him in. Then you got up to put your a/c on since he normally runs hot, and two people under the same covers would only make more heat. When you got back into the bed Bob had reached for you so you softly grasped his hand in yours and the crease that had started to form in his brow alleviated.

Bob tried to thank you, but you hadn’t let him because helping would be what any decent human does. Instead, he made you french toast, said it was the least he could do for taking up your space. So that became your routine, every morning after a nightmare Bob would make french toast.

You never denied him. Never said you were too busy, too stressed, or even flat out didn’t want to. Whatever you were doing before he knocked would be moved aside, or powered down, and then if he wanted it your attention was all his, only his. Sometimes you’d talk about the nightmares, a good book your or Bob read, a recipe you wanted to try, or just the weather. Other times the two of you would watch a movie, a show, or play either a video or physical game.

The two of you never mentioned the times that you would fall asleep cuddling. The nights where only whispers were shared and you’d rake your nails down his scalp to give him a distraction. The nights where his head would rest on your chest and he’d put at least half of his focus on matching your breathing pattern. He’d play with your free hand, either drawing patterns into your palm with his pointer finger or just simply fidgeting with your fingers.

Bob believes it's just something you're doing out of the kindness of your heart. You know it would make him feel better to let him be with someone, so you offer up yourself. Probably just so that no one else on the team has to suffer by taking care of him. But even if it's out of pity, he’d keep going to you, taking all the alone time he could get as long as you didn’t shut him out.

He’s fallen for you, Yelena confirmed his suspicion. The way he always volunteers to go on errands with you, the way he seeks you out at dinner to secure a seat next to you, the way he learned how to perfect your favorite meal before anyone else's, the way that he comms more for you than anyone else because he’d hate to see you even scratched from a mission.

—

You’ve had a long night. Too much paperwork, too many people you used to know informing you that they’re disappointed that you've ended up on such an ‘awful’ team. A wake up, preferably in the form of coffee, was necessary after the night you had. Thankfully Bob and Yelena had you covered, serving you shock instead.

Maybe you’re overreacting, but Bob hasn’t woken you up because of a nightmare in weeks. For a normal person, that’s probably a standard amount of time. But for everyone who currently resides in the tower, that's at least a week too much.

Everyone's experienced at least one major traumatic event that keeps them up, and then continues to haunt their dreams. Most people handle it themselves, no one fully adjusted to the fact that they’re on a team and can easily ask for help when needed. Bob hasn’t been that person though, at least not with you.

You realize this morning, it’s not that Bob stopped having nightmares. He’s started to go to Yelena for them. You heard his door slide open last night, and footsteps walking in the opposite direction of your room. Originally you assumed he went to get some water or something of that sort, but that thought was squashed the next morning when you saw Bob making Yelena french toast.

They’re laughing about something you can’t hear. And maybe its the look in Bob’s eyes, or the way he’s smiling like he’s never had a care in the world. Either way, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. From then on you’d move on from Robert Reynolds.

—

Most people wouldn’t be able to recognize it at first. The way you drew back was subtle, made in steps so it would be less suspicious. First you started training more. You were often the first one in the gym, either punching the bag, running miles, or lifting weights. The headphones you wore always playing music, not particularly blasting but loud enough that when people approached they could understand to not bother you.

Then you started eating without the team. Whenever asked about it you’d either say you ate earlier or weren’t hungry. Usually the former was true, but sometimes you’d just blurt out something to get them off your back. Whenever you did end up eating with them, you’d avoid spots that had open seats on either side. One time you even had to sit next to Alexi.

Sleeping earlier was the next step. ‘Sleeping’ really meant going to your room and staying as silent as possible. Leaving whatever room with a loud yawn usually meant that nobody would question if you were really getting rest or not. The few times that someone did question it, you would just tell them about how burnt out you were.

From Bob’s perspective, all of these things were excusable. You wanted to be stronger and more prepared for missions, and you were so consumed in it that you couldn’t have meals or quality time with the team. While he wanted you to take better care of yourself, or wanted you to let him take better care of you, he would never want to overstep, so he kept to himself.

But then you started doing errands by yourself. That was always your thing. Why would you do them by yourself? Were you sick of him asking to do supplemental activities like walking through the park, or stopping in a cafe? It just didn’t make any sense.

He thought the two of you were closer than that. Maybe he really was right. You did just pity him and that’s the only reason you let him stick around for so long. Maybe Yelena knew something he didn’t. Girls have to talk about this stuff, right?

“Hey, Yelena?” Bob’s knocking on her door, hoping she’s not taking a midday nap.

A few seconds later the door slides partially open, “Goooood morning Bobert!” He winces at that, “No on Bobert then. What do you need?”

“It’s, well. Uh - you know who.” Bob’s rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.

“Come in, come in.” Yelena ushers him in before shutting the door, “What about your special someone?”

Where does he even start? The fact that you’ve been avoiding him? Or the fact that you’ve stopped finding a seat so he could sit next to you during the rare times you join the team for dinner, knowing that he’s too non-confrontational to ask someone to move. Maybe he should start with the way that it seems like you’re training all day to avoid having to talk to him at night under the guise that you’re exhausted.

He starts with the idea that you’ve cut him out of your life completely. If it was a printout it would not be done gently, as one would to someone who they held close to their heart. But rough, the cut uneven, jagged around the edges, the type that would give you a papercut if you ran your fingers along it.

And he doesn’t even know why. What could he have done? You’ve always been understanding, always been the one to give the benefit of the doubt even when people didn’t deserve it. What could he have done to not deserve this kindness that you’ve given to everyone else?

By the end of his rant, he’s crying. Yelena brings his head down to her shoulder, rubbing along his back to calm him. “I jus-just don’t get it. Am I that bad?”

“No. That is not it, Bob.” Even though he can’t see her shaking her head, Yelena still does it, “You must talk to her.”

“I can’t, I really can-”

“You must. And you will.” Her tone left no room for discussion or debate.

Yelena reminds him that while you may be closed off, as they all are, you are not intentionally cruel. You would not leave Bob hanging after he goes to you asking for answers. She sends him on his way after that. He should get cleaned up before you get back, something about ‘putting his best foot forward’.

—

When you get back to the tower, putting away the groceries is on the top of the list. Then afterwards you’re heading straight to your room to hole up. There’s a tall, looming figure across from your door though.

By the hair you can tell it's Bob. He’s leaning against the wall, head pressed against it. His eyes are closed so unless you’ve been super loud, you doubt he knows you're there. How you were going to actually get into your room was a different problem. The doors were fancy, but they were loud leaving no way to sneak in.

Just as you’re debating on whether or not to actually attempt to sneak in, Bob’s eyes shoot open and his head turns to look at you.

“Hey, y/n, hi - hi.” His smile is wobbly, nervous glint in his eyes.

“Hey Bob. What’s up?” If you can appease him quickly, then you can get back to the solace you find in your room.

“Could we talk?” He’s moved in your way, somewhat preventing you from getting to the door.

“Uh - yeah, sure. About what though?” Your fingers are twitching, hopefully it’s subtle enough that Bob doesn’t notice.

Of course he notices though, he’s attuned more to you than himself sometimes. “You’ve been avoiding me. And I just wanted to know what I did. Whatever I did it's important to me that I take accountability and apologize for it.”

Well shit. “You didn’t do anything Bob. I’ve just got a lot on my mind as of late and I don’t want to bother anyone with it.”

“It’s not a bother. Please tell me.” He’s grabbed your hand, stilling the twitches.

“Fine! You want me to spell it out,” Taking your hand back, cradling it with your other one, “I like you Bob. A lot. Like more than a friend should. And it hurts. It hurts that I’ve given you more than I’ve given anyone in a long time just for you to go and pick Yelena over me.”

Bob tries to cut you off, reaching out to grab your arm, but after a quick deep breath you continue.

“And I get it, I really really do. She’s your person, but you were mine. My quiet in the storm. I thought that our time meant something to you, that I meant something to you. But I was wrong. Can I please enter my room now?”

“No. No you can’t. Not until you hear what I have to say.”

You’re frustrated, tears are forming on your waterline. Today was supposed to be easy, quick errands, then bed rotting. Now you’ve been forced to confess something you haven’t even written down in your diary just in case somebody decided to snoop. And even after that you still won't be granted safety or peace in the comfort of your room.

“Why do you think I like Yelena?”

Bob doesn’t get a response. When he realizes you’re not going to respond he tilts your chin up to make eye contact.

“Y/n, why do you think I like Yelena?”

“Because! It's always her. Movie nights, the two of you are cuddling. Dinners, sure you’d sit next to me but only when in eyesight of her! Errands, you run off to get what she likes first every time. And the one thing I had, that really seemed like it was just mine, just ours,” You’re wiping away tears and sniffling, but if he wanted a response, he’d get a damn response, “Was comforting each other in the dead of night. But then you were there, doing our routine with her and I realized it doesn’t matter what I do, Yelena will always come first.”

“What do you mean ‘our routine’? I didn-”

“The French toast? You only make that the morning after a nightmare. And you hadn’t stopped by my room for weeks. It made sense that you’d be seeking comfort somewhere else.”

“French… toast?” Bob’s thinking, you can see it by the distant look in his eyes. “I made french toast because I missed the way it tasted, and the fact that you always get this sparkle in your eyes when I make it.’

“You don’t have to lie for my sake. I can take it.”

“I'm not. Look at me please.” Instead of making you look up, he's bending down, “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. You can ask Yelena for all the details later, but right now you need to understand that I really like you too.”

“Its fine, Bob. Really.”

You’re still rejecting the fact that he cares for you in the same way that you care for him. So he does something he’s only seen in movies. His lips collide with yours briefly, just long enough for you to confirm that it wasn’t your imagination.

“Is that enough proof for you?” You shake your head no, because it truly wasn’t enough. You’ve waited months for this moment; the least he could do was make it last a little bit longer.

When he kisses you the second time you make sure to kiss back. His lips are soft, moving slowly but still surely, like they knew all the proper movements but they just needed to remember them.

The sliding of a door reminds the two of you as to your location. You split quickly when the noise slices through the air. Just Ava heading towards the kitchen if you had to guess. Maybe it was a good thing, who knows how far you would have gotten if you hadn’t broken apart.

“So.. Can we go watch that show you like so much now?”

“The one you pretend to hate?” You’ve entangled yours and his hands, pulling him lightly towards your door.

“Yeah.. That one.” Bob is grinning goofily now. He’s sure he could come into your room freely now. Really soak up all your free time. He could explain that he hasn’t come to you for a nightmare in weeks because he truly hasn’t had one, once he’s wrapped up in your arms. And after that maybe he’d work on kissing you stupid.

likes/comments/reblogs will get your cheeks squished like im your grandma

#bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds imagine #bob reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds imagine #bob reynolds #robert reynolds #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts #marvel #marvel x reader #bob reynolds angst

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daechwitatamic · 6 months ago

Text

Not So Loud || LC

banner by @itaeewon <3

Not So Loud lee chan x afab reader || fluff smut baby angst || f2l, only one bed trope NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You've been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years, despite his rejection seven months ago. When you're impossibly coupled up on a friendcation, you're determined not to make it everyone else's problem. Of course, you weren't expecting to have to room with him, and you certainly weren't expecting only one bed...

wc: 16.6k

warnings: language, recreational drinking, sooo much pining, baby misunderstandings, kissing, breast play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv sex (no protection mentioned either way), reader on top, mentions of shower sex

request by @eoieopda:

yes my fearless leader you may have even two crumbs of lee dino getting laid at the beach, i hope you enjoy every single second of it <3

“This,” you sigh blissfully, “is the happiest I may ever be.”

The sun is shining. Upbeat pop music runs like an undercurrent below the sound of the highway from the stereo of your best friend’s junky, decade-old sedan. Your iced coffee - light and sweet, but not too much of either - tastes like heaven. And the best part, the part that makes this day the best even if you didn’t have iced coffee or sunshine or Ruby or happy music, is that you’re less than an hour away from the beachfront house you and your friends have rented for the next five days.

All six of you had collectively been saving up for a full year and a half to make this happen, and there were times during the wait when it seemed like it would never come together between scheduling and money and rental availability. But now you’re here, racing down the highway to keep up with the flow of traffic, the ocean beckoning you closer.

“Now, now,” Ruby, the aforementioned best friend, scolds lightly. “What about your wedding day?”

You blow a raspberry. “What wedding day?” you shoot back sourly, but then you take another sip of caffeinated, iced perfection and your mood buoys immediately. It’s gonna take a lot to keep you down, today. Still, you rationalize, “I can’t even get to a third date.”

It was true. Your last third date had been almost two years ago. Since then, everything fizzled after one or two. Embarrassing. Something only Ruby - and, by proxy, her boyfriend Mingyu - would know about you.

“Because you compare them all to Chan,” Ruby says sagely.

The beams of sunlight are glaring. The pop music grates on your nerves, too boppy and much too happy. You set your coffee in the cup holder, your hand suddenly smarting from the bite of cold.

Coincidental to the third date thing, you’ve been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years. Another embarrassing Ruby-and-thus-Mingyu-only tidbit.

“Stooo-ooppp,” you whine. “If you’re going to spend the whole time making it weird about him, I’m going to find a way back home! I will walk there, just try me!”

“Now, now,” she says again, mildly. Your dramatics are nothing new to her. “I’ll behave. But I keep telling you - it would be significantly less weird if you’d just tell him you have a thing for him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. A thing.

An every problem I’ve ever had melts away and my soul floats three feet above my body every time your smile crosses your face kind of thing. A hearing your laugh makes me laugh even if I didn’t hear the joke kind of thing. A finding your gaze across a loud room makes me feel like no one else is there but us kind of thing.

A he doesn’t feel the same way, and he never will kind of thing. He made that super clear, about seven months ago.

And it gets worse.

You’ve had a week to accept your fate on this trip - a week since she’d called to tell you that the original rental had fallen through. To tell you that the replacement place is almost better (closer to the beach! a huge deck! a private pool!) except for the number of rooms. That since the other four people attending are made up of two couples, you and Chan would have to share a room.

(“The rooms are huge,” she’d assured you. “And the third room’s got bunk-beds! I bet will Chan will let you have top bunk if you want it - he’s a nice guy.”

You didn’t say, even though it is very true, that bunk-beds are really only a selling point if you are ten years old. But there were more important arguments to make. “I know he’s a nice guy,” you’d bit out. “He’s the nicest fucking guy I’ve ever met in my life, actually!” Hence the thing.

She’d paused and then pointed out, “You’ve met Seokmin, though.”

And, yeah, maybe on paper Seokmin is nicer but looking at his smile doesn’t feel like being filled with sunshine, so the point is moot.)

Anyway. You’ve had time to accept the fact that you have to share a room with the guy you’ve been in love with for over a year and a half. You’ve had time to accept that he might hear you snore, will see that you’re messy, that you’ll have to get changed in the bathroom for the whole trip, that you’ll have to get really good at pretending not to moon over him every time he speaks.

“I think,” you tell Ruby mildly, “that telling him that I want to lick his body from top to bottom and then get married might actually make things more weird.”

“I would just like to say,” Ruby’s boyfriend Mingyu pipes up from the backseat, his voice weary and long-suffering, “that this is an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for me.”

In your defense, you’d thought he was asleep.

Ruby descends on him like a swarm of locusts. “Don’t you think she should tell him she’s in love with him?”

“I actually do,” Mingyu says, covering his eyes with his hands as if he can’t bear to see what a disaster you are. “But I would heavily advise against mentioning the licking. Or the marriage.”

“It’s hyperbole,” you defend, flapping a hand in his direction. But, yeah, noted.

Excitement bubbles in your stomach, despite the rooming situation, when Ruby flicks on her turn signal and moves to exit the highway. Already, the smell of the air through the open windows has turned salty, and the thick tree-line along the highway has given way to cloudless blue sky and the occasional palm tree. It had been almost hazy when you’d set off at the crack of dawn (Mingyu had taken the back seat so he could stretch out and sleep a little longer) but now the sunrise has burned away all of that haze and given way to a perfect morning.

It takes only minutes for Ruby to navigate through the small, coastal town and to a row of vacation homes. You lose yourself in a daydream of waking up to take coffee on a sunlit balcony, listening to waves crash in time below you. In your daydream, across the balcony someone stretches their arms above their head, a sliver of belly peeking out for only a second, then turns to give you a sleepy smile, thinly-wired glasses perched on his nose.

Someone.

You shake yourself free of the fantasy; part of you feels like Ruby can read your mind, like she’s seconds away from calling you out for placing Chan in your seaside fantasy life.

Ruby, however, is too focused on finding the house to read your mind, and she slows the car and turns into a driveway, chirping, “We’re here!”

You all start grabbing luggage to carry in; the sun feels amazing on your skin, the sea breeze cool almost to the point of chilly and so salty it makes your nose twitch. You three aren’t even done emptying your car when you’re startled by a beep-beep-beepbeep-beep from the road behind you.

“That’s Soonyoung,” Mingyu says without even turning to look.

He’s right - it is. The second car, which carries Soonyoung, his girlfriend Lara, and Chan, pulls into the driveway next to you.

Chan greets you with a wide, happy grin (that, yes, makes you feel full of sunshine, whatever) and a quick, one-armed hug as he comes around the front of the parked car. Your moronic heart lifts, stupidly hopeful - until Soonyoung does the same thing. Your heart deflates again with the reminder that they’re just like this - nice, affectionate with their friends. It doesn’t mean anything. Chan’s attention to you is just as platonic as Soonyoung’s - which is to say, entirely.

You all manage to gather the luggage from both cars, and Mingyu follows the rental app’s directions to work the keypad at the front door. You all ooh and ahh as you step inside - the place is roomy, well-lit from sliding glass doors and windows that face the ocean, and decorated with (what else?) a kitschy, nautical theme.

You kick off your flip-flops onto a mat with an anchor on it (per the theme), and follow the others further into the house.

You head straight back through the house - the living room gives way into a dining room that ends with the sliding-glass doors. In tandem with Ruby, you press your face to the glass of the door and peer outside. You’re delighted to see that the ocean is right there, beckoning you to come play. Gulls swoop and call, loud enough that you can hear their cries from inside. Further down the beach you can see colorful umbrellas and tents that other beachgoers have set up. Below the deck, you can see just a strip of the private pool.

You pull yourself away from the back door and head into the adjoining kitchen, where Lara is standing at an open cupboard, examining its contents.

“We’re going to need to do a grocery run,” she muses, looking over at you. “I think all Soonyoung packed was ramen and soju.”

“What else could we possibly need?” he jokes from down the hall, his voice echoing.

“Coffee,” you say immediately.

“Beer,” Mingyu says seriously.

“Meat? Vegetables? Stuff for breakfast? Something to drink that isn’t alcohol?” Lara suggests.

“Who invited the Capricorn?” Soonyoung (the person who invited the Capricorn) grouses.

“Without me,” she tells him seriously, though the corner of her mouth twitches, “you’d be malnourished at best, and at worst? Dead.”

“Probably true,” you say, giving her a conspiratorial nod, and then you hear Ruby call your name from upstairs. Her voice sounds strained, and a little alarm bell goes off inside your head.

“Yes?” you answer loudly, hoping your voice will carry up to her.

“Can you come up here for a minute?” she calls down to you. Yes, there is definitely an edge to her voice that you don’t like. “Now?”

“Oh jeez,” you mutter, starting to make your way towards the stairs at the front of the house. You take the stairs quickly, calling Ruby’s name as you navigate the unfamiliar house.

She and Chan are both standing in the hallway, open doors all around them. Their faces mirror each other - disbelief, anxiety.

“What?” you ask, a little breathless both from the stairs and from anticipation. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s, uh,” Ruby stammers. It’s very unlike her to lose her confidence, and the unease in your gut churns again.

“What?” you say again, and when she doesn’t answer, you turn to Chan, who looks stricken. “What is it?”

“No bunk beds,” he manages, finishing Ruby’s sentence and gesturing to the room behind him.

You’re pressing forward without making the decision to move, without answering either of them, crowding Chan’s space so you’re chest to chest, peering over his shoulder. His hands hover near your elbows, like you might overbalance and he’s ready to steady you.

The room behind him is huge - as Ruby promised - complete with an ensuite bathroom and the balcony straight out of your daydream in the car. It also, as Chan pointed out, does not have bunk-beds. Instead, one king-sized bed is centered against the far wall, flanked by wicker nightstands with lamps on each and an old-school radio alarm clock on one.

You say nothing - you just back out of Chan’s personal space and swivel, heading for the other doors. Surely that was just the wrong room - one meant for one of the couples. Surely they just didn’t look hard enough, didn’t check the other doors, didn’t find the room with two beds that you’d been promised.

You find a full bathroom, a linen closet, one door that remains locked, and - to your dismay - two identical bedrooms, neither of which hosts more than one single bed.

Realization trickles through you slowly, building up higher and higher as you check the doors a second, and then a third, time. Ruby and Chan stay frozen in place in the dimly lit hallway, watching your frantic, pointless searching.

“Oh, my God,” you say hollowly. Then, turning, you narrow your eyes. “Ruby,” you growl. “You promised. Where is my top bunk?!”

“I don’t know!” she squeaks. “The listing said four beds!”

“Call them,” you demand flatly.

Beside Ruby, Chan’s eyebrows scrunch as he frowns. He says your name quietly, holding up a hand as if to calm you. “We don’t need to move houses,” he says gently. “I’ll take a couch. It’s not a big deal.”

You feel yourself shaking your head immediately. “I will feel like shit if you spend your vacation sleeping on the couch because of me,” you tell him.

He and Ruby exchange a long look (something that you don’t like very much, but no one is asking you) and then she tentatively says, “Could we work it out later? Maybe one of the couches pulls out into a bed or something? Or do you really want me to try and get us a different rental? This is already our second one, I’m not sure there are even other options still available…” She trails off, eyes wide.

You sigh, eyeing the ceiling above you as if it has answers. “Fine,” you say, because you can’t stand the thought of being the one who’s causing problems, ever the people-pleaser. “We’ll figure it out later.”

You head back down the hall, tromping down the stairs in silence to get your luggage.

Chan tries to take one of your bags for you, but you shrug him off and he lets you. You follow him back up the stairs, to the large room you’d looked at a few minutes ago. You both stand in the middle of it, looking around. You’re unsure if you should even unpack in here if there’s a chance you’ll end up moving to the couches.

“It’ll be okay,” Chan says, and it startles you out of your thoughts so badly that you flinch.

“Mhm,” you manage, because you don’t want to lie to him by agreeing.

“Hey,” he says, a little insistently, and you look up at him. He’s looking at you openly, his expression an impossible mix of concern and optimism. It disarms you immediately, in a way nothing else ever has.

There’s something always so earnest about Chan, one of your favorite things about him, and you can’t help but believe him when he continues to speak. “It will. We can, like, take turns with the bed or something. It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t let this ruin your trip. Okay?”

You nod silently, thinking about this. He’s right - there’ll be a solution. “Okay,” you say, managing to give him a little smile. “You’re right.”

The grin he gives you is mischievous. “I usually am,” he quips - and you love that about him, too: the way he’s playfully cocky, something ironic in the way he displays it, like you’re all in on the joke and he’s happily his own punchline. He disappears into the hallway, where you hear him heading down the stairs.

You wait for the tornado of butterflies in your belly to calm back down and then you look around the room. You finally decide to just leave your bags in a pile near the dresser, and head back down to find the others.

Everyone is standing around the kitchen table, where it seems like a grocery list is being split into Things That Can versus Things That Cannot be bought at the local liquor store.

“We can take one car and handle the drinks,” Mingyu is saying as you walk up and lean your chin on Ruby’s shoulder from behind. She absently reaches up to give your head an affectionate pat as you both listen. “Then the grocery team can take the second car, and whoever is handling the rental office can just walk.”

“Rental office?” you ask. “What for?”

“Just to grab our passes for the beach,” Lara answers you. “They’re like little tags. It’s part of what we paid for.”

“The rental’s under your name,” Soonyoung reminds her, “so we should probably handle that.”

“Yah, you just want the easy task,” Mingyu complains.

Soonyoung grins, guilty as charged not at all sorry about it. He grabs for Lara’s hand and heads for the front door. “If we aren’t here when you get back, we’ll leave your passes on the table!” he calls, and then the door slams shut.

“Asshole,” Mingyu grumbles affectionately.

The four of you look at each other in the resulting quiet. Then, Ruby asks, “Anything you want to add to our list?”

You lean further around her to read her phone screen, scanning what drinks had already been requested.

“Nope,” you tell her. “I’m good with that. Does this mean I’m on the grocery team?”

Chan looks up from his phone when you ask this, waiting to hear the answer.

Ruby and Mingyu meet gazes, seeming to have a silent conversation. Then, she gives you a sheepish look, almost a grimace. “Yeah - sorry, but I kind of wanted to go with Gyu on the drinks run, if that’s okay?”

You’ve been best friends with Ruby for a long time. You know her in and out, and you know this: she’s not like this, not sweet and apologetic. If it was just you two, she’d just say what she wanted. The act is for a reason.

You blink at her, trying to figure it out. “Of course it’s okay,” you say slowly. “If you and Mingyu are handling the drink run, then I’ll handle groceries with Chan.”

Ah. That was Ruby’s game - she paired you with Chan on purpose.

Meddler. Pain in the ass. Angel. Light of your life. She contains multitudes.

His eyes drop back to his phone. “You don’t have to,” he says, not looking at you. “If you want to go with them or catch up with Lara then I can handle it by myself.”

You frown. “It’s not really a one person job,” you observe. “And I don’t mind - really.”

“So it’s decided!” Ruby says brightly, moving to rest her hand on her boyfriend’s forearm. “We should beat you back, but we’ll wait for you guys so we can help unload the car.”

“Thanks,” you say, meaning it. For everything.

Ruby and Mingyu head out, and you meander closer to Chan. You’re not alone together very often - you’re pretty much always in a group setting.

You’d met through Ruby and Mingyu, years ago. You and Ruby were a very packaged deal, and Mingyu had a crew of friends that filtered in and out of your social events like they kept a scheduled rotation. When Soonyoung had settled into a serious relationship with Lara, the two of them became pretty permanent fixtures with Ruby and Mingyu, and Chan usually went where Soonyoung did. So then you were six.

How perfectly even. How serendipitous. How nearly fated.

If only he saw it that way.

But he doesn’t, he’s made that clear. It was Lara’s fault, actually. That night is burned into your brain, an unpleasant memory custom-made to slither into your brain when you’re trying to sleep before a big day.

The six of you had been bar-hopping on a Saturday night about seven months ago. It had been cool - late autumn teasing winter, and you’d been shivering as the six of you rowdily made your way up the block to your next stop. Laughing at something Soonyoung had said, Chan had reached around your shoulders sloppily, pulling you tight against him.

“Cold?” he’d asked you, as you tried to keep walking - a challenge because of both the alcohol in your system and the alarm bells going off in your head over his hand on your arm.

“Definitely chilly,” you’d managed to reply, looking up at him sideways. His profile was sharper than you’d realized before, and it sent a wave down your core, sinking like a weight through your stomach and into your lower belly and he grinned down at you.

You never wanted him to let go. Never, for the rest of your lives.

“You two are cute,” Lara had said drunkenly, the words a little slurred, as she leaned heavily on Soonyoung. You’d flushed, a little embarrassed, but Chan’s reaction had mortified you. His eyes had widened and he’d gone so far as to retract his arm from around you as quick as lightning, moving sideways to put inches between you again.

It left you frozen, a block of ice.

“No - we’re - we’re only friends,” he had said emphatically, and Lara had apologized, her hand over her mouth. Then, Ruby had tripped on the sidewalk and ripped the knees of her jeans, and the whole incident was forgotten.

Not by you, though. Never by you. This was the moment that floated up like the ghost of Christmas past whenever Ruby urged you to confess to Chan, which was more frequent than you’d like. The rush of cold in the absence of his arm, the way he’d stuttered in his hurry to refute the misunderstanding.

Message received, Lee Chan. Loud and fucking clear.

Didn’t change a thing about how you feel, though.

Presently, you try to push this out of your head - the fact that there’s no social buffer between you, no Ruby or Soonyoung to hide behind - before it can trip you up. “What’s on the list?” you ask. He hands you his phone, lets you scroll through everything he’d typed up.

“Okay,” you say, handing it back. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Yeah,” he says, a little absently, then starts patting at his pockets, eyes scanning the tabletop. “Yeah, I’m ready. Aish, Lee Chan, where did you put the keys?”

“They’re by the door,” you offer, remembering the small table you’d all dropped them on as you came in.

He shoots you a grateful smile. “Thanks. Let’s go?”

You nod, grabbing your sunglasses from the table and following him to the driveway out front.

It’s less than ten minutes to the nearest grocery, not even enough time for three whole songs to play through the car’s stereo, half-drowned by the roar of wind and sea through the open windows. Chan grins sideways at you as he parks, running a hand through his messy hair before unbuckling and stepping out of the car. You shake yourself from your daze and hurry to follow.

“What’s the game plan?” you ask, as you step out of the summer sun and into the fluorescents and air conditioning. Your skin prickles instantly upon the change. “Divide and conquer?”

He pulls out his phone and brings the list up. “I’d rather just stick together,” he says, looking at you sideways, his voice a bit thin - like he’s nervous you’ll reject the plan. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” you say, shrugging easily.. “I’m just following you. I’m the assistant. You’re in charge.”

Something flashes across his face - a shooting star of an expression, gone before you’re sure you saw it - and then he’s pushing the cart into the produce section, calling over his shoulder for you to go grab some peaches.

You wind your way together through the store. Each time he stops the cart, you each dart after something else from the nearby shelves then reconvene to look at the list again, shoulders pressed together as you squint at the small font.

It thrills you each time that he doesn’t pull away, each time that he doesn’t hurry to put space between you again as he had back in November.

Don’t make it weird, you beg yourself as you load a few cases of soda into the cart. Keep it in check.

A few rows over, the cart a third of the way full, you pause at a row of sauces. You step back, scanning the labels, then drop into a crouch to read those on the bottom shelf. Chan drops beside you, his knee gently bumping yours as he reaches for one of the jars, bringing it closer to scan the label.

“This one’s my favorite,” he says, and there’s something low in his voice that makes you look over at him. Your fingers overlap his for a second as you take the jar from him, turning it over so you can see which one it is. The moment feels staticky, charged with something.

You chicken out, shuffle back on your heels so your knees no longer touch. “It is a good one,” you agree, putting it back in his hand and pressing your palms to your knees as you rise again. “Get a few - I think Ruby likes that one too.”

He nods, looking away again, dutifully reaching to grab a second jar. You move on to the next aisle in silence. You almost feel like his energy seems… disappointed. But that wouldn’t make sense at all.

Turning the corner to the first row of freezers, you feel your body react instantly to the cold and you immediately fold in around yourself, goosebumps rising up your arms.

“Oh, it’s cold,” you complain. “Let’s hurry. Please.”

Chan doesn’t respond, but you can feel his eyes sweep over you, heavy, before he starts pushing the cart past you at, yes, a quicker speed. You shiver once, violently, before you hurry after him.

When you’re done, stepping outside into the sunlight feels like being released - like leaving school on the last day before summer break, like leaving work before a vacation, like stepping outside for the first time after rain has kept you inside for days on end. You let it warm you, happy, as you help Chan load the bags into the car.

You drive the few minutes back to the house in silence. As Chan makes the last turn, you wonder out loud, “Do you think Ruby and Mingyu finished before us?”

“Definitely,” Chan says, and he’s right - as the house comes into view, you can see that the second car is already parked.

True to their word, Ruby and Mingyu greet you at the door to help carry everything in and put it away.

“Lara grabbed us a spot down on the beach,” Ruby informs you, as you both stand at the back of the car, scanning for the lighter bags. “As soon as we’re ready we can head down.”

You let out a happy sigh. “I think an afternoon at the beach will cure me.”

“Nothing will cure you,” she deadpans, then literally stops mid-stride to correct herself. “Actually, something could. And it’s here, and available, and sharing your room.”

“I hate you a lot!” you tell her brightly, pushing past her with an armful of groceries and heading into the relative dark of the house, praying Chan hadn’t overheard her bullshit.

You hurry through the rest - getting the groceries away, getting changed for the beach, throwing the things you need to bring into a tote. Downstairs, the others wait for you by the back door. Chan is wearing Mingyu’s dumb-ass sunglasses and is clearly in the middle of an old-man bit, his voice reedy and sarcastic. Ruby cackles as Mingyu shoves Chan’s shoulder playfully, reaching to get his eyewear back. You can’t help the wave of affection you feel for them, your goofy friends.

You all step out into the sand, eyes adjusting to the sun. You follow Mingyu’s shadow on the ground as he makes his way towards the spot Soonyoung and Lara saved for you. You drop your tote in the sand and help Ruby spread out a blanket, using your shoes and bags to hold down the corners. Mingyu and Chan settle a small cooler off to one side, filled to the brim with ice and drinks.

You pull your cover-up over your head and toss it in the direction of your tote bag and stretch out, closing your eyes happily and letting your body relax under the warmth of the sun, the sound of breaking waves rhythmic and soothing. You’re startled by the sound of music and open your eyes again to find Ruby setting up a bluetooth speaker near the cooler. She looks at you sheepishly and hurries to lower the volume.

“Sorry,” she giggles. “Didn’t mean it to start so loud.”

To your left, Chan is pulling his white t-shirt over his head. Your eyes widen and you look away as fast as you can, catching Ruby react exactly the same, her eyes comically large.

You both turn your backs to the boys, and she mouths at you, what the fuck?

What the fuck is right. You’re used to being around Mingyu, who has an admittedly perfect body, and even Soonyoung is shockingly cut under those baggy t-shirts and cropped hoodies he sports. Chan’s always been the little one, the most normal, the most obtainable in his regular-ness.

Something’s changed since the last time you were all swimming together. He’d always had a nice body, but this…

You close your eyes against the bright summer sun, as if you can block out the curve of his pecs, the shadowed lines hinting at abs. None of those had been there last summer.

That motherfucker. First, he rejects you, then he gets hotter? You hope he gets eaten by a shark today.

You push yourself to stand.

“Where are you going?” Ruby hisses.

“I need a beer,” you tell her flatly. “Actually, maybe ten beers.”

“I’m not holding your hair today,” she warns you flatly, and you flip her off and make your way to the cooler. It’s going to be a long day.

You manage to get a few hours of peace and sanity by laying out with Ruby and Lara, just enjoying the music and occasional chitchat. Further down the beach, the guys run around with a volleyball but no net, making their own asinine rules.

“I still say you should tell him,” Ruby grumbles, after catching you watching Chan from behind your sunglasses for the ninth time, and you shoot her a warning look. But the damage is done - Lara latches on, her eyes sharp.

“Him… Chan?” she guesses. You feel your face heat.

“I’m that obvious, huh?” you murmur reproachfully.

“I mean,” she says uncertainly, looking to Ruby as if for backup, “I think you both are? If it helps?”

“Both?” you repeat flatly. “I wish.”

She exchanges a look with Ruby again, a silent conversation that you aren’t part of.

“He’s not into me,” you say, easy, like the words don’t cut at you. The salty air hits the wounds and makes them sting. “He’s been clear about that.”

Ruby’s brow furrows; you’ve never actually articulated this in front of her before.

“He has?” she asks, her voice suddenly gentle and almost sorrowful. “You never told me-”

“You were there,” you protest, then look over at the guys to make sure they hadn’t stopped yelling and running. “You both were, actually. That night when you tore your knee open outside of Ivy and Ivory?”

“Yeah,” Lara says slowly, her eyes on you, “I remember that night. That was… kind of the first time I thought he had a thing for you? Like, I know it was a while ago, but -”

“A thing for me?” you echo, working hard to keep your voice quiet. “When you called us out he was so horrified he couldn’t even touch me - he acted like it burned him -”

“Honey, no,” she says seriously, leaning forward. She looks incredulous at your perspective.

“Bestie,” Ruby says, giving you a please believe me, your best friend, who would never lead you astray look. “He was terrified that you’d get spooked.”

You press your mostly-empty beer can to your chin, eyes narrowing. “Explain.”

“He wasn’t embarrassed at the idea of being coupled with you,” Lara whispers, her eyes on the guys, whose game has drifted only minutely closer to your blanket. “It was one of those like, shut up or you’ll scare her away moments. He wanted to kill me.”

“Literally, if he’d had a cartoon thought bubble, it would have said shhhh, not so loud!” Ruby adds. She peers at you. “Did you really take it like that this whole time? You thought it was a rejection?”

“He practically pushed me into traffic!” you hiss defensively, and both girls explode into laughter.

“That is not what happened,” Lara insists, and then heads to the cooler, leaving you, Ruby, and your very confused thoughts.

You look at her. She looks at you.

“I thought you knew,” she says finally, holding up her hands in mock innocence. “I had no idea you took it that way.”

You can’t respond - the boys return at this exact moment, Mingyu flops dramatically next to Ruby, panting heavily, sweat running down his face.

“Jagiya,” he gasps like he’s dying. “Water. Please.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, but a water bottle lands next to Mingyu’s head before she can get up. You turn towards the cooler and see Soonyoung standing with his hands on his knees, also panting, while Chan digs around for presumably another water bottle.

“You need anything out of here?” he asks you over his shoulder.

You shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

You rise, brushing errant sand from the backs of your thighs, squinting at the water. The waves are breaking evenly, and there’s room to tread further out past the breaking point. “I think I’m gonna go in,” you announce to whoever is listening.

Lara shakes her head, reaching one hand up to tug at Soonyoung, obviously wanting him to sit by her. Ruby flaps her hand at you as if to tell you go on. She’s never been a big swimmer, more of a giant unicorn floatie kind of girl.

You stop when you’re ankle-deep, letting a few waves break and rush over the tops of your feet, adjusting to the temperature. You start to wade in, the water rushing around your shins, when you hear your name called breathlessly behind you.

Chan jogs up, his hair pushed back, a thin silver chain bouncing against his collarbones. You look away before you can get caught. Ruby and Lara’s words race through your brain. Have you been wrong about him this whole time? Have you misread every signal over the last three years, viewed it through the wrong lens?

“You can’t leave me alone with them,” he complains, face twisting in exaggerated suffering.

You laugh. “Can’t stand being the fifth wheel, huh?”

He shakes his head, smiling, still trying to catch his breath from volleyball and then the jog over here.

“You coming in?” you ask him. “I was gonna go out and tread for a while.”

He nods. “You don’t mind if I join?”

You look at him appraisingly, new information starting to process inside your mind, shifting the rules you’d followed for months. The sea air makes you bold. “You?” you say. “I would never mind.”

You don’t wait to see his reaction; you step further into the water, hitting just above your knees when you reach the spot where the waves are breaking. You stumble a little as a wave hits your thighs, and Chan’s hand finds your elbow, firm but unassuming, helping you steady yourself again.

When you reach waist-deep water, you eye the spot just ahead where the waves reach their tallest point as they gather on their way to shore.

“We’re gonna have to go under that,” you tell Chan. He actually looks nervous, which makes you laugh. “Want me to hold your hand?”

The smile he sends you is both self-deprecating and relieved, like he can’t believe his answer is yes, but yes, and he’s so glad you asked.

“Come on,” you say, laughing again. You hold out your hand and he takes it, and when the next ocean swell rises before you like a mighty wall you hold your breath and tug him under. It’s an act of faith, dipping below the roaring ocean, hoping you time it right. You keep his fingers tight between yours and let your body sink.

You surface on the other side, in an area of relative calm. Beside you, Chan wipes at his face with his spare hand, which makes you realize you’re still holding the other. You release it gently, treading water easily. Chan can probably just touch sand if he stretches.

You tread together quietly for a few minutes, less than six inches apart. The sun glints off the water around you, dancing and sparkling as the water moves. You wish you could ask him about that night, years ago, confirm Lara and Ruby’s interpretation of the events. You could - you just aren’t brave enough.

You look at him, familiar and beautiful and - until today - unobtainable. What if you swam closer, what if you pressed yourself close and kissed him, right here in the ocean?

If it ruined everything, you could just let yourself drown. And if it didn’t… well, you could let yourself drown a different way, then.

You chicken out. You chat about inconsequential things instead - his upcoming trip with his family, a work project you’d recently wrapped up that you’d been talking about for months, what the plan will be for dinner when you all get tired of the sunshine.

It’s easy to talk to Chan - it always has been. He’s quick with a joke or a bit, but always open and earnest. He watches you quietly when you talk, accentuates his stories with his hands when it’s his turn. Eventually, Ruby joins you. Mingyu stands at the edge of the water, one hand shielding his eyes, watching her go.

“He’s not coming in?” you ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t want to get his hair wet. God, the water feels great. Anyway, we’re thinking of heading in soon, to get showers and stuff before we figure out dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Chan says.

“I’ll be right in,” you say, and beneath the water you grab at Ruby’s hand. Stay.

Chan gives you both a wave goodbye and heads towards the beach. You both watch as he steps onto land, approaches Mingyu, and shakes like a dog, spraying water all over his friend. You can hear Mingyu’s shout of protest even from here, and Ruby’s maniacal laughter echoes around you.

“How’s it going?” she asks you slyly, when she’s finished laughing at her man. Like she knows the answer already.

“Nice of you to ask!” you cry. “Actually! I’m kind of having a meltdown! Because for nearly eight months I thought he’d told me unequivocally, irrevocably no, and now I am finding out that he… I don’t even know. What does it mean? That was ages ago, surely even if he felt something then…”

“Only one way to find out,” Ruby says, way too sensibly.

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble.

“It is helpful, it’s just not easy,” she says sagely. You splash a handful of water towards her head and she shrieks, swimming further away from you.

“That’s enough of you,” you tell her, and start heading in towards the sand.

Back at the blanket, the boys and Lara have mostly packed up. You pull your rolled up towel out of your tote and dry off briskly. When everyone is accounted for, you all collect your things and head back up the walkway towards the house.

You put everything away - leftover drinks in the fridge, wet towels in the washing machine, etc - and the couples disappear into their rooms, doors closing and locking up and down the hallway.

Which just leaves you and Chan.

You follow him to the end of the hall and into the large room you’ll be somehow sharing. He turns on one of the bedside lamps and stops to plug his phone in, then looks over at you.

“You wanna shower?” he asks, tossing his phone lightly onto the bed. You can only stare at him, short-circuiting, until he clarifies. “Do you want to go first?”

“Oh,” you utter, quickly trying to recover. “Yeah, if you don’t mind?”

He waves his hand graciously towards the dark bathroom, as if to say, be my guest.

Showering turns into a reprieve - a locked door between you allowing you to jumpstart your brain again as you feel the hot water remove all the hidden bits of sand clinging to your legs and back.

While Chan takes his turn after you, you escape outside with a cold soda from the fridge. The beach beyond your rental’s deck is still pretty busy, but the crowd has thinned a bit since you all packed up. The sun descends behind the house, which means the sunrise tomorrow morning will come over the beach.

Mingyu seems to be preparing the grill, and Ruby bustles around, bringing out ingredients and setting them close to the grill. On one of the cushioned benches, Lara drapes her legs over Soonyoung’s legs and talks with him quietly, both of them giggling.

Since it seems like your help isn’t needed anywhere - you’ll help set the table when the food is almost ready, as is your usual job as a non-cook - you sit with your cold drink and watch the waves break, lost in thought.

Lara and Ruby seemed so sure that you’d misread Chan that autumn night. There’s a small part of you that’s still doubtful, but at the end of the day you do trust their judgement. So, assuming they’re right, Chan had been interested in you. That was over six months ago, though. It doesn’t mean anything now except that… well… if he was interested in you once, there’s a possibility he could be again. Or still.

Your move, it seems, is to figure out if that’s the case. Chan hasn’t done anything recently to indicate that he’s disinterested, but he also hasn’t done anything to indicate that he is. He - like you - has played it very safe. It isn’t until now that you’ve questioned if it’s because he actually sees you platonically, or if he thinks that’s what you want.

One of you is going to have to push the boundary, to test the waters.

When Chan emerges from the house, freshly showered and hair falling over his forehead nearly to his eyes, you look up from where you’re sitting and watch him thoughtfully. He pauses at the grill to ask Mingyu something, then passes by the mess of limbs that is Soonyoung and Lara, then drops onto the seat next to you.

“Mingyu says it’ll be another twenty minutes or so until everything’s done,” he informs you.

“Guess I should get the plates and stuff,” you sigh, leaning forward to set your drink on the table.

“I can help you,” he offers, and follows you inside, where you both open cabinets and drawers in the unfamiliar kitchen until you find everything you need.

He heads outside ahead of you, his hands loaded with utensils and condiments, and you pause, watching his dark silhouette against the evening sunlight. Your heart tumbles, and you jerk back into motion, following him into the light.

You all stay on the back deck until well after sunset. As the sky sinks into deeper and deeper blues, you rise and plug in the string of lights that weave through the beams above the deck, casting everyone in a nearly-orange glow. Mingyu sets up the tabletop fire pit, but you end up chilly anyway as night takes hold.

You shiver once, and you notice Chan looking sideways at you.

“Cold?” he asks, and the wave of deja vu you get is almost dizzying.

You shake your head instinctively, more against the memory than actually answering the question. “I’m fine,” you say, even though you do have goosebumps rising along your arms.

He gets up anyway, heading into the unlit house without a word. You rise a beat later and head across the deck.

Ruby calls your name like a question, and in answer you point at the cooler tucked behind the grill, where you’d all stashed beer and water bottles. She gives a quick “ah” of understanding.

“You need one?” you ask her, as you shuffle behind the grill and pull on the cooler’s lid.

“I’ll take a beer,” Mingyu answers for her, and you dig through the bottles and cans until you find his preferred brand, reaching to pass it to him over Soonyoung’s head. Then you turn back and look at your options, trying to decide if you want a can of spiked seltzer or if you want to go inside and mix something a little harder.

While you’re deciding, the glass door to your left slides open, and Chan steps quietly back onto the deck. He’s in a baby blue hoodie that he hadn’t been wearing before, and he carries a bundle of dark material in his hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, holding it out to you. “It felt weird to dig through your luggage, so I grabbed one of mine.”

You take his offering silently, fighting a tiny smile. “Thanks,” you say, equally quiet, like you’ve both agreed you want to keep this moment between you, not call the attention of the others. You shake the dark hoodie out and pull it over your head, slipping your arms into the sleeves and fixing the hood so it’s not inside-out. The hem falls almost past your shorts, and the sleeves reach past your fingers.

Chan bends to grab a beer from the cooler, then heads back to where he was sitting before. You reach for your own drink, settling on a seltzer after all, and when you turn to head back to your spot you can’t help but notice him watching you through the flickering fire pit, something unreadable on his face.

“You good?” you ask him as you settle back into your spot.

“Yeah,” he says, but there’s something tight in his voice that makes the goosebumps rise on your arms again despite the new layer of warmth you’re wearing. That smells like him. You tug on the edges of the sleeves to pull the shoulders tighter and curl up on your chair, tucking your legs into the baggy material and locking back into the conversation.

The night moves slowly, the constellations rotating centimeter by centimeter above you, everything made comfortably fuzzy by the drinks and the firelight. Sometime before midnight, Ruby suggests a walk along the beach.

You go in bare feet, the cool wood of the deck stairs giving way to sand as soft as silk. Mingyu and Ruby take the lead, the rest of you trailing behind. At some point - long after the house disappears from view - Lara stops, pointing up at the moon - a sliver above the undulating sea.

The four of you stop and look for a minute. Down the beach, you can hear Ruby and Mingyu but they’re out of sight in the dark.

“We should probably catch up with them,” you say, looking in the direction of their disembodied voices.

“I think we’re gonna head back to the house, actually,” Lara says, looking up at Soonyoung to gauge if he agrees. “We’ll leave the back door unlocked for you all?”

They say their goodbyes and head back hand in hand, leaving you alone with Chan and that sliver of moon. For a minute, the night seems to expand around you, growing bigger and bigger and leaving the two of you so small within it. Chan looks at you silently, as if he’s waiting for something, one side of his mouth quirked into an almost-smile that makes your stomach swim with the desire to cause a real smile, to push that little almost into something fully-formed.

Then, Ruby calls your names loudly from further up the beach, and the spell is broken.

“Guess we better catch up,” Chan says wryly. You both turn and start walking in silence, nearly shoulder to shoulder. As you walk, the back of your hand brushes the back of his just once, and your entire body prickles at the contact. You almost shift away, give him a little more space, but something urges you to hold the line. You want to see what he will do.

You keep walking, close enough that you can hear him breathing, hear the sand slide each time he takes a step. The back of his hands brushes yours again, warm. He doesn’t react, so neither do you.

You carry on, knuckles occasionally bumping his, until you find Ruby and Mingyu. They’re standing watching the moon, Mingyu wrapped around Ruby’s back like a giant, love-sick koala.

“Where’re Soonyoung and Lara?” Ruby asks, when she notices you.

“They headed back,” you say, stopping a few feet away.

“We should, too,” Ruby muses, eyes on the moon. “But it’s so pretty here.”

“It is,” Chan murmurs from beside you and you glance sideways at him, trying to read him. He’s staring out at the dark sea, the stars flickering in and out above it, giving you his profile. Ruby’s eyes flick to you, one eyebrow quirked. You look away, not wanting to get caught in this silent conversation, but you can feel the heat on your face, the smile tugging at your mouth.

The house is dark when you all return, and you let yourselves back in quietly, just in case Soonyoung and Lara are actually sleeping. You bid Ruby and Mingyu goodnight in whispers and head to the end of the hall. Chan closes the door and you flick on the bedside lamp, casting a low yellow light through the room.

Wordlessly, Chan begins to rummage through his suitcase, transferring items to a small pile - a pair of loose shorts, a toothbrush, his phone charger. It occurs to you, suddenly, that he’s gathering what he needs to leave - to go sleep on a couch.

“Chan,” you say. You don’t even know what you want to say next. You just know you don’t want him to go, don’t want him to sleep on a couch, don’t want to be here alone.

He pauses, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

What do you want to say? Stay? You balk, suddenly chicken again.

“I can take the couch tonight,” you say instead. He shakes his head, but you press on. “We can switch tomorrow.”

“Nope,” he says easily.

“Chan,” you say again. He keeps rummaging, his back to you.

“Chan,” you repeat, insistent. He turns fully, still crouching, and raises his eyebrows as if to say, yes?

“Do you want to just stay here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking. It feels like a moment of great enormity.

He shakes his head, and the rejection stings enough that you feel your breath catch.

But then he says, “No, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch. I’m trying to be a gentleman - quit fighting me.”

You realize, slowly, that he misunderstood what you were offering.

“No,” you say. “I meant… like… no one on the couch.”

He stares at you blankly, his hands open like he forgot he was searching for something.

Embarrassment licks up the back of your neck like flames. “The bed isn’t that small,” you say, a little defensive. “We could just, like, stay on our own sides.”

The blank look on his face slowly transforms. His brows come together, his mouth tucking into a rare frown. He opens his mouth like he’s going to ask something, but nothing comes out. His eyes flick to the bed and then back to you.

“I don’t…” he says, and the heat of embarrassment heightens. He clears his throat and tries again, “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he says slowly.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t okay with it,” you point out.

He nods slowly, then pushes himself to stand. “Are you extremely sure?” he asks, peering at you. “This isn’t a High Noon decision, is it?”

You laugh, the tension dissipating a little. “No,” you assure him. “I just… feel bad putting you on a couch… and I don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch either… and I think we can… not make it weird?”

“We can,” he says, like a promise.

You second-guess your decision the whole time you get ready for bed - as you brush your teeth, as you change into pajamas, as you settle into the side of the bed by the balcony and plug in your phone. You’re nervous you won’t be able to keep it not weird - nervous that you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, that the magnetic pull to touch him will be too strong.

But when Chan climbs into the other side of the bed and clicks off the light, illuminated only by his phone screen, his warmth seeping into the blankets around you, it isn’t your hands that inch towards him. It’s your words. They claw their way out, desperate to reach across the six inches of darkness.

Chan, I’m actually really into you.

What really happened that night, when we were walking from bar to bar?

I’m in love with you, probably. I think.

Are you interested in me? At all?

You fight them all back, hold them all in. You don’t relax until Chan’s clicked his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, whispered goodnight to you, until you hear his breathing deepen. Just in case. Just in case the words get out the second you unclench - you need him to be asleep first so you can be sure he won’t hear them. You fall asleep with your face buried in the crook of your elbow, one last line of defense.

You wake up with your face buried in the crook of Chan’s neck instead of your own arm. You realize it instantly, body freezing like you’re about to get caught stealing, your whole body tight with panic. Like if you don’t move, you won’t wake him, and he won’t know that you cuddled him in your sleep.

Mortifying.

He’s mostly on his back but sort of tilted towards you, and you have one arm over his ribs, your nose pressed into the juncture of his shoulder. But, you realize as you stay frozen, his arms are around you. This was a mutual cuddle. Your legs are touching, too, one of your shins between his.

You try to breathe as shallowly as possible, fight the urge to stretch or roll or scoot away. You don’t want to alert him, pop this bubble, make the moment end. Chan is holding you as the sun rises over the ocean outside. It feels like another daydream, too good to be true. You never want it to end. You wish it was more real than this.

Slowly, you relax, one limb at a time, letting your muscles unclench and inhaling deeply. His skin, warm against your cheek, smells good - still a bit salty from the ocean, even after showering. But it’s only moments later that he stirs, his arms tightening around you and then loosening again as he makes a satisfied, low noise in his throat.

Then he goes still. You freeze back up, watching him for a reaction.

His mouth moves first, quirking sideways, and then he cracks one eye and peers down at you. A laugh bubbles from him and the cuddle is disintegrating around you as he shifts himself backwards and up on his elbows, still chuckling.

“Sorry,” he’s laughing, “sorry. I didn’t - that - I did not expect to do that in my sleep.”

You can’t help your own sheepish smile in return. “Me either, but it was actually comfy,” you admit. Now disentangled, you feel kind of cold and a little sad. But he’s acting like it was a funny goof, your bodies clinging to each other the second your brains turned off, so you’ll go along with the joke.

He rolls over and rummages on his nightstand, returning with his phone in hand and pushing thin-framed glasses up his nose. You look away, heart clenching. You love him in those; combined with the bedhead and his smell in your nose and the warmth of his skin not yet evaporated from yours and the feeling of his arms around you… it’s all a lot.

“I’m gonna… get dressed,” you say, reaching for your own phone. Chan hums a response and you vanish into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting ready as slowly as possible. When you come out, the bedroom is blessedly empty. You close your eyes and exhale. It’s going to be a long day.

When you finally head down to the kitchen, Lara and Chan are chatting easily at the table, steaming mugs in their hands. He’s still in those damn cute glasses.

“Good morning!” Lara greets you brightly. “There’s coffee!”

“God bless you,” you tell her seriously. You open a cabinet in search of a mug, but you’re faced with only plates and glassware instead. Chan appears at the cabinet next to you, reaching up and offering you a white mug with a cartoon seagull on it.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling weirdly shy considering you just woke up pressed against him. Once you fix the coffee how you like it, you take the seat next to Lara at the table. “Everyone else still asleep?” you ask.

“Soonyoung is, but I have to go wake him up in a minute,” Lara says, clicking on her phone screen to check the time. “We have a snorkeling thing at ten.”

“Ruby and Mingyu are out already,” Chan tells you. “Sunrise yoga. She texted us.”

“God,” you say, horrified. “Mingyu’s gonna hate that.” You realize at the mention of her text that you’ve left your phone upstairs.

Chan laughs. “Right?”

Lara rises, presumably to go wake up her boyfriend. “Her text said they’d be out until around four,” she tells you as she moves back into the kitchen to rinse out her mug. “I think they’ll beat us back, but not by much. Maybe we can go grab dinner when everyone’s back?”

“Sure,” you say, shooting a look at Chan to see if he has any opinions on this plan. He shrugs - no opinions to be found. You’ve always loved the way he could just go with the flow, happy to be along for the adventure.

You and Chan are still sitting at the table, coffees dwindling, when Lara pulls a bleary-eyed Soonyoung through the front door with a shouted goodbye, the sound of the car’s engine reaching you from outside. You look at each other, left alone together.

Again.

He gives you a flat, unamused look that he definitely picked up from Seungkwan or Vernon. “Are they doing this on purpose?” he asks, and a jolt goes through you. He’s said it. It’s like a curtain being pulled, shedding sunlight on something that had been shadowbound until now.

“Doing what?” you say, even though you know. “Leaving us by ourselves? Probably. Ruby likes to fuck with me.”

Chan laughs, and you’re filled with shaky relief that the moment isn’t weird. You both knew what this was, apparently, and facing it has put you on the same team against it.

“I thought it was to fuck with me,” he admits, still smiling.

“Two birds with one stone,” you muse. “For the sake of efficiency.”

But you wonder… why would it be fucking with him if he wasn’t interested in you? Is he admitting something?

“Well,” Chan says, stretching his arms above his head, fingers linked, “by all means, you can do your own thing today. You don’t have to babysit me. But it’s supposed to storm later, so I was thinking I’d use the pool a bit this morning while we still can, and then maybe go into town for lunch.”

You consider this. “That’s very pragmatic of you,” you observe lightly.

“That’s one of the first words I’d pick to describe myself,” he tries to deadpan, but the smile is too quick, telling on himself.

You let him get changed first, and when you make your way out back to the pool he’s already in the water up to his waist. You toss a towel onto one of the chaises.

“How’s the water?” you ask him, as you move to sit on the edge, preparing to let your legs dangle.

“It’s great,” he tells you, smiling easily, like he’s happy - happy you’re here, happy to be here with you.

You wonder if that’s the case, as you slowly lower your legs in, the water coming to lap a few inches below your knees.

“Feels cold,” you tell him. It doesn’t, really - way warmer than the ocean you played in yesterday, but you want to tease him a little.

Suddenly, his hands are on your ankles, holding you firmly. His hands are on your ankles.

“You should get in quickly,” he tells you, trying - again - to pretend to be serious, despite the smile he can’t combat. “Like ripping off a band-aid.”

“Lee Chan,” you warn, but a giggle rises up in you. “Don’t you dare. I will get in when I am good and ready!”

“I’m just trying to help,” he says, pretending to be hurt. His fingers are still pressing against your skin, your brain impossibly aware of the exact spot his thumb presses, as if there’s a beacon illuminating the place.

He gives your legs a playful tug, too lightly to actually move you. You squeal anyway, reaching down to splash water towards him. “Chan!”

He releases your ankles, taking a step back to avoid the splash, laughing. “Be careful,” he warns. “If it’s war you want -” He holds his hand like a knife above the water, ready to retaliate the splash.

“Oh my God, you menace. I’m getting in!” you cry, gripping the lip of the pool and sliding in, staying on your tippy-toes as your body adjusts to the temperature.

“Come on,” he goads, backing away from you, bobbing towards the shallow end. “You have to go under or it doesn’t count.”

“You’re a menace,” you repeat firmly, and he laughs, enjoying that his teasing has worked you up.

You eye the expanse of water between you - you’re at opposite ends of the pool now. “Do you think I could make it across in one go?” you ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Like, underwater? I don’t know - how’s your lung capacity?”

You laugh. “Maybe not good enough,” you admit wryly. “But I’ll try.”

You take a deep breath of salty sea air, only minorly marred by chlorine, and slip down below the surface. You let the bottoms of your feet find the flat cement wall of the pool, and you give a hearty push. It’s hard without being able to see how much farther you have to go, but you hate getting chlorine in your eyes, so you kick and pull blindly until your lungs start to burn. When your natural buoyancy pulls you upward, you don’t fight it.

Your hands find something warm and solid before you surface. Surprise causes you to rear your head, fucking with your balance, and your feet find the floor of the pool. You stand up unsteadily, blinking water out of your eyes.

Chan comes into focus, his expression tight, and you realize that your hands had found his stomach, centimeters above his belly button.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, pulling away.

It’s like ever since last night, you can’t stop touching, your bodies fighting to come together even as you both dig in your heels and try to stop it.

“No worries,” he says just as quickly. You try to cover the moment by wiping water out of your face, but you feel warm all over, the cool water useless against your heated skin as you try to push away how his muscled stomach had felt under your fingertips.

You spend a good hour just floating and splashing around. Sometimes you chat and sometimes you lapse into comfortable silence. At one point you hear him singing lightly under his breath, his voice surprisingly clear but frustratingly quiet.

Eventually, your stomach growls. “I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell him. “You up for lunch in town, maybe? I’d just need to shower super quick first.”

“Sounds great,” he says easily, and you both head for the single runged ladder at the deep end. Chan climbs up first, standing by the ladder, dripping onto the concrete. You grip the metal handles firmly and find the bottom rung with one foot, pushing heavily to hoist yourself up.

And Chan helps you up - his fingers finding the dip of your waist and guiding you until you’re steadily on the pool deck, something protective in the touch.

Your entire body thrums, electric, cells vibrating. You hurry to your towel and wrap yourself up, hiding your face in the material - pretending you’re just chasing droplets away from your eyes, but actually smothering the urge to scream, if you’re going to touch me then get over here and do it properly!

“Did you know there’s a hot tub under the deck? Was that mentioned in the listing?” Chan asks, and you uncover your face.

“Huh?”

He’s pointing, and then you see that he’s right - tucked beneath the deck is a decently-sized jacuzzi, the lid on and straps fastened shut.

“Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Well, I know what I’m doing after dinner.”

Chan laughs, and you head inside, careful not to drip a trail of pool water through the house.

The rest of the morning passes pleasantly and without any touching; you shower and get changed and go on foot into the small beach town. You find a cute open-air cafe and order lunch, the iced coffee absolutely divine under the warm summer sun. The company’s not bad either.

After you’ve paid and left, Chan pauses on the sidewalk and gives you a mischievous smile. “Up for a little adventure?” he asks.

You frown. “What level of adventure?” you ask cautiously. “Like, on a scale of jumping out of a plane being ten to laying on my towel in the sand being one, what are we talking here?”

He laughs. “Like a three,” he assures you. “We just have a bit of a walk - maybe twenty minutes?”

The walk is pleasant - you don’t even get too warm, as there’s a constant breeze off the ocean and clouds pass overhead, pitching you momentarily into shade between longer bouts of sunshine. When you turn a bend and see the lighthouse rise against the sky in the distance, you actually gasp.

“Can we go up?” you ask, delighted.

“That’s the plan,” he tells you, and for once you can read his face perfectly - he’s pleased that he’s surprised you, pleased to have made you happy. Something warm simmers under your skin, affection and happiness and something else.

It takes forever to reach the top. You have to stop and rest more than once, your calves burning and protesting the many stairs. A few families pass you on their way down, one mother telling you cheerfully that you’re almost to the top. This motivates you to continue, and you press on until you reach the final landing and step through the metal doorway.

The view is absolutely worth it. The beach and the ocean stretch out before you, the town in the distance behind you. Alone at the top, you feel like you’re in your own little world, surrounded by sunlight and the calls of gulls, just you and Chan.

You stand, holding the railing, watching the waves undulate far below you for a long time. “Chan,” you say, and then falter. You don’t know what you were going to say. Some part of you thinks maybe you’d been about to confess, or to finally ask him something to shed light on his feelings.

When he looks at you, expectant, you say only, “Thanks for bringing me here.”

And maybe you did confess something, because he reaches over and squeezes your hand, just once.

And then, he looks over your shoulder and utters, “Uh oh.”

You spin, following his gaze, and echo, “Uh oh.”

Dark grey clouds gather to the west. You remember him saying it was supposed to storm later; it looks like rain will be rolling in soon, ushering in the storms behind it.

“We’d better head down,” he says regretfully, and you follow him back inside.

You make it down and outside before the rain comes, but the sunshine of the morning has gone and left gloomy grey in its wake.

“You think we can make it back to the house?” you ask breathlessly.

Chan checks the time on his phone, already walking brisky back towards the direction of town and your rental. “Maybe,” he says, but he sounds doubtful. “We’ve gotta be quick, though.”

You barely even make it into town; you aren’t even back at the cafe where you’d had lunch before the sky opens. It happens exactly like that - one second it’s not raining, the next second you’re drenched, hair plastered to your face, shirt sticking to your back, spluttering breaths through your mouth like you’re being sprayed with a hose.

You let out a cry of surprise, and then Chan is grabbing your hand and tugging, pulling you off of the sidewalk and into a nearby doorway. You don’t even manage to see what the doorway belongs to - Chan is already pulling it open, his hand still in yours as he leads you inside.

It’s dark, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust as you wipe rain away from your eyes and shake droplets off of your arms. Beside you, Chan is doing the same, running a hand through his soaked hair and huffing out a noise of disbelief.

“That,” you say, “was bonkers.”

You seem to be in a dimly-lit dive bar, the kind that only locals go to. It’s pretty empty, since it’s early afternoon on a weekday, so when Chan raises a soggy, questioning eyebrow at you, you shrug and follow him towards the bar. Why not?

You take a seat wearily, and pull out your phone.

“We’ve got almost an hour until everyone is supposed to be back,” you inform him.

“In that case,” he says, and when the bartender meanders over, he orders you a row of shots to share.

You clink shot glasses for the first one, but after that you turn it into a game.

Chan narrows his eyes at you, mock-thoughtful. “What would you do if you woke up and your hands and feet had switched places?”

After answering (use my toes to order an Uber to the hospital), you volley with, “What would you do if aliens invaded tomorrow?”

Back and forth the game goes, punctuated by shot glasses being emptied and returned to the bar. What would you do if you woke up married in Vegas? … What would you do if you woke up one day and could only speak in rhyme? … What would you do if you were suddenly allergic to your favorite food? … What would you do if you were forced to join the circus?

You’re both laughing deliriously. Chan is wiping under his eyes in mirth, and you’ve hunched over so far that you find yourself with your hands on his knees, using him to stay upright on your barstool. Your surroundings have faded into colors and muted sounds with the alcohol in your system. All you can focus on is Chan, warm and solid under your palms, his eyes on you, the sound of his laugh cutting straight through the fog.

Then his next one isn’t so funny. “What would you do if you found out you only had a day to live?” he asks, and despite the seriousness, one last chuckle rumbles through his chest, like an aftershock.

Tell you. Tell you the truth.

You swallow. You take your hands off of his knees - you’re not sure he even noticed them there - and flex your fingers. And then, filter demolished by both alcohol and the sheer amount of time it’s been keeping you in check, you break.

Instead of answering, you fire back your own. “What would you do if I came onto you right now?”

Chan blinks at you, eyes as wide as you’ve ever seen them. He blinks twice more, and then his mouth opens. Your heart pounds.

“I’d - I - I guess, I’d probably kiss you,” he says, voice suddenly hushed, as if he’s a little unsure if he’s supposed to be honest or if the game is still a string of jokes.

You stare back. The two of you are frozen, both a bit wide-eyed, like neither of you is sure how you ended up like this.

Then, you breathe, “Okay, then do it.”

He nods immediately, breath coming sharply, and shifts closer on his seat. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waiting. Tentatively, he reaches up, brushes your jaw with his thumb.

Beside you, your phone blares to life on the bar. You both jump, startled out of the moment.

“Ruby,” you tell him hollowly. His hand still hovers near your face, but he nods, pulling it away. You feel like you can barely breathe as you slide your thumb to take the call.

“Hey,” you say into the phone, your eyes on Chan.

“Hey,” Ruby says, “where are you guys? Our thing ended early because of the rain so we’re back at the house.”

“Oh,” you say, trying hard to focus on her voice in her ear and not what just almost happened. “We’re in town. At… a bar? We came in to get out of the rain.”

“Perfect,” Ruby says. Across from you, Chan is rubbing his hands down the tops of his thighs, like they’re sweaty. You wonder if he’s nervous. “We’ll get changed and come get you guys in the car, and then we can go grab dinner together.”

You agree and hang up, then repeat the plan to Chan, who nods. He looks how you feel - a bit shell-shocked, a bit uncertain.

“We need to sober up,” you say. “Or, at least, I do.”

“No, me too,” he says, shaking his head. He sighs, and he might as well have said, goddamn Ruby. You hear it all. Then he seems to give himself a shake, orders you each a water, and asks to close his tab.

“They’re just up the street,” you tell him when Ruby’s text rolls in a bit later.

He nods, uncharacteristically quiet. You wish you could peek inside his brain and see what’s going on in there.

“Hey,” you say, and his eyes snap to you, that open look you know so well on his face. Your voice softens, and you resist the urge to reach out and touch his hand when you continue. “Here’s what I don’t want to happen - I don’t want Ruby to sniff out that something’s going on and interrogate me before we can… talk, ourselves. So let’s pull it together, and get through dinner, and then we can…”

We can what? Pick up where we left off?

He nods anyway, even though you’d left the thought unfinished. “You’re right,” he says.

And, somehow, you do. You both pull it together, rush through the pouring rain from the bar to the open car door. You smile and tease and laugh through dinner, like nothing had happened at all.

You feel relieved, in the back of Ruby’s car, as you all make your way back to the house. You did it - you got through dinner unscathed. Now you can go inside, and have some privacy, and talk and maybe figure out -

“Did you guys know the rental has a hot tub?” Chan asks, and you turn to look at him, baffled.

“It has a what?” Ruby gasps.

“Yep,” he says cheerfully, like he hasn’t just shattered your dream of getting a moment to yourselves. “It’s under the deck. Which means - hey! - it’s covered! We could totally go in, we wouldn’t even be in the rain.”

“That sounds great, actually,” Lara muses.

You say nothing, but when he catches you looking sideways at him, Chan sends you a wink, quick as lightning. You feel your face go puzzled, and he smiles and looks away, giving you no answers.

You’re somehow the first one to get changed and outside; it’s still pouring rain and you cover your head with your towel as you make your way down the steps and under the deck where some drips make it through, but you’re mostly out of the rain. A quick sweep of the area with your phone’s flashlight shows that there’s a string of the same lights down here as above on the deck, and you hurry to plug them in. Now that you can see, it’s actually kind of cute under here.

You unsnap the first strap for the lid, and jump when a pair of hands reaches next to you for the second one. You hadn’t heard Chan approach, but you silently accept his help as you push the lid up and off. You watch him out of the corners of your eyes to see if he’s going to say anything, address it at all. When it seems like he’s not, you turn to climb up the little set of steps, resigned.

His hand closes around your wrist, stilling you. He gives the tiniest of tugs and you relent, turning around. He gives you another tiny tug - you could resist if you wanted to, but you don’t, you don’t, you don’t. You let the tug pull you closer and look up at him, waiting. He kisses you quickly, firmly, close-mouthed for now but sure, his hands forming loose loops around each of your wrists as if he might want to tug you into place again.

The sliding glass door above you slides open and you step away, heart racing.

“Later,” he says quietly, and then you don’t get another second alone, Mingyu and Soonyoung’s voices bouncing through the space as they clamber down the deck stairs.

You climb into the warm water and choose a spot. Chan follows and sits a few solid feet away from you. You try not to look guilty when the other guys round the corner.

“Brought you a beer,” Mingyu says, reaching the extra can towards you.

“You are a legend,” you tell him gratefully.

Chan frowns, and for a crazed second you think maybe he’s jealous that Mingyu did something nice for you, but then he whines, “You didn’t bring me one? Hyung.”

“Calm your ass down,” Mingyu says, climbing into the water and finding a seat. You’re instantly more crowded, just from the sheer amount of space his long legs take up. “Soonyoung has yours.”

You snicker a little, and Chan gives you a light kick under the water. Above you, you hear the door slide open again, and a minute later Ruby and Lara appear beneath the deck, sheltered from the rain by Ruby’s towel.

“Oh,” Ruby says, surprised. “It’s not bad under here!”

“It’s cute, right?” you agree. “Still getting a few raindrops, though.”

“Eh, we’re in water anyway,” Soonyoung says easily, reaching up a hand to help steady Lara as she climbs in.

It’s crowded, and Chan’s two-feet-away doesn’t last. Instead, you’re crowded together, just inches apart. Ruby leans over the edge and turns on the jets, the top of the water creating a frothy layer.

“This is nice,” Lara says happily, closing her eyes and leaning against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It is,” you murmur, sipping at your beer. Under the cover of the jets’ bubbles, something touches your hand. Someone’s hand touches your hand. Chan’s hand touches your hand.

Your heart lurches. You beg your face to behave and give nothing away. And ever so slowly, you turn your hand over.

He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes on Soonyoung, who’s telling a story animatedly on the other side of the jacuzzi. But his fingers lace between yours, and his thumb brushes along the back of your hand, slow and tantalizing.

You’ve never been so undone by hand holding in your life.

You try to breathe. You sip casually at your beer and interject into the conversation when you can. You laugh at the jokes and look at whoever is speaking. You have no idea what the conversation is about. You hold onto Chan’s slender fingers like he’s a lifeline, like if you let go he’ll slip away, again and for good.

Later, he’d said, and his voice echoes in your head as you pray for later to be now. And finally, blessedly, Lara finally yawns, loud, and starts making moves to get out and head in. Which means so does Soonyoung. Then Mingyu lifts a hand from the water and examines his fingers, complaining, “I’m all pruny.” Chan gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go, reaching for his beer nonchalantly, watching Ruby and Mingyu carefully. You know you’re both waiting, impatiently, for them to leave you alone.

Leave, you silently beg, still trying to appear as casual as possible. Leaaaaave.

“You staying a little?” Ruby asks you, pausing halfway out of the hot tub.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to force your voice to stay casual. “I slept pretty late this morning - I’m not really tired yet.”

“Not all of us got up for sunrise yoga,” Chan says dryly, and Mingyu laughs, reaching for Ruby’s hand, clearly wanting to get inside.

“Okay, then,” Ruby says, her eyes still on you. “See you in the morning then.”

“Bye,” you tell her, and you have to fight the giggle out of your voice. You can’t help it - you feel giddy, nearly bouncing with excitement. You and Chan have been skirting the brink of something all day and you’re finally standing on the cusp of it, toes curled over the edge, ready to dive.

The second you hear the sliding door above you close, Chan’s hand is on your wrist again, pulling much more insistently than he had earlier in the day. Surprised, you let him tug you onto his lap, settling with your thighs bracketing his own, his hands wasting no time in finding your hips and pulling you more firmly against him.

His mouth is on yours, as insistent as his touch. You answer him readily, nearly sighing into his mouth as you get something you’ve wanted for years. You skate your hands up his chest and bring your arms around the back of his neck. He tips his head back a little, his hands sliding up your back, and the change in angle makes you sigh again.

“Thought they’d never leave,” he mutters against your jaw, and you let out a quick huff of a laugh before your breath leaves you entirely as his teeth nip a line down your neck, tongue and lips soothing behind each quick sting.

You chase his mouth, wanting him back, and he groans quietly when he realizes - like you wanting to continue kissing is just as good as actually kissing. But nothing is as good as the kissing, not if anyone asks you, nothing is as good as his tongue against yours, his teeth gentle on your lips, his hands clutching at your back and your arms and your hips like he can’t pick a favorite.

His hands roaming your body ignite you. You become only aware of their migration as they map the width of your shoulders, survey the dip of your waist, skate over your ass, then repeat the expedition. Your fingers have found his hair, curled up and held tight. He takes your hips in his hands and shifts you on his lap, causing you to tug slightly, and his exhale holds just the slightest hint of a whimper. You almost unravel, right there.

The shifted position also makes it absolutely unignorable that Chan is hard beneath you, and you can’t - don’t even try to - stop yourself from pressing yourself closer, your hips rolling almost involuntarily as soon as you feel him. Chan gasps at the sudden friction, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, like he’s already going under. Then his hands - frozen on your hips while his brain rebooted - come back to life, slipping up your ribs to cup both of your breasts over your bathing suit, giving one slow knead to both in tandem. You moan, low, unable to stop it, and he responds almost instantly, letting out an audibly shuddering breath.

He surges upwards to kiss you again, one thumb still rubbing circles against your hardening nipple, the other hand trailing back down your side and gripping your waist, holding you in place. You continue to move against him, his mouth hot against yours, the water bubbling around you and surrounding you in mist.

Chan’s nimble fingers leave your chest and work their way down between your bodies, pausing at the edge of your bathing suit bottoms. He looks up at you, pupils blown, panting out controlled little breaths like he’s fighting to keep himself in check.

Eyes unwavering on yours, watching your reactions closely, he slips his fingers between your legs, pressing the material against you, sliding down your slit and back deftly. His cock kicks beneath you when you whine. His gaze on you feels charged, almost like a challenge.

And then you’re blinded by a flash, followed almost instantly by an alarming crack of thunder.

“Fuck,” Chan hisses, twisting to peer out towards the ocean, his hands finding your hips again as if by instinct. “The storm.”

“Guess we have to head in,” you say, and it comes out wispy and breathless. Your legs feel like jelly and he’s barely even started.

“Yeah,” he says, the single syllable tight. He adjusts himself as you vacate the water, the rain beyond the safety of the deck seeming to redouble its efforts. You both hurry to turn the jets off and replace the cover, then stand at the edge of the dry space, looking out at the raging rain.

As hot and heavy as things were only a minute ago, you feel oddly still now, staring out at the storm. Chan places your towel over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, looking sideways at him.

“Ready?” he asks you, and you think he means ready to brave the storm. But your heart is answering another question - are you ready to continue, ready to move forward with him, ready to give life to something that has remained only a daydream in your mind?

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.

He slips his hand into yours. “I’ve got you,” he promises.

You move quickly but carefully through the rain, eyes on your feet as you take the slippery wooden stairs up the deck and towards the house. Chan doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re inside, sliding the door shut behind you. The house is dark and quiet, lit only by a single light above the kitchen sink. You both stand near the door and try to dry off, but your towels got soaked by the rain and don’t do much good.

“Come on,” Chan whispers. “There are fresh towels upstairs.”

You follow him through the house, up the stairs and down the darkened hallway. Chan pauses at the linen closet, pulling out two fluffy towels. You lead him into your shared room, closing and locking the door behind you as he clicks on one of the lamps.

Chan comes back into your space quietly, wraps you both in his towel, the spare forgotten on top of your dresser. You’re pressed tight together, warm in his arms. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them resting there, just holding you. The moment is soft, heavy, a stark contrast to the lightning physicality of what happened outside. Something about the intimacy of it makes you feel hesitant.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling away a little to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathe back. Your heart is racing. But it’s Chan. It’s Chan with his arms around you, and Chan who was kissing you and touching you, and - it all feels like something you aren’t allowed to have. “Just… maybe we shouldn’t?”

“We don’t have to,” he says immediately, shifting backwards and loosening his arms around you, giving you the option of pulling away if you want it. “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you want to just go to bed… or if you want me to take the couch tonight, I can -”

“No,” you say quickly, because that’s the opposite of what you want. “No, it’s just… Chan…”

He seems to hear your uncertainty in your voice, his face softening and his arms pulling you back in. “What is it?” he asks quietly, and you slip your arms around his middle, giving in.

“I think I want this a lot more than you do,” you whisper, glad you don’t have to look at him while you say it.

He laughs, and you step back, looking at him quizzically. You’d been afraid of his reaction - of making him uncomfortable, of pushing the line too far. You hadn’t expected laughter.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he tells you, and you just stare at him, not comprehending. He reaches up, fingers still clutching a corner of the towel wrapped loosely around his back, and brushes a thumb along your jaw. You feel your face warm, but you wait him out. He adds, “I want this… a ridiculous amount. I’ve wondered for a long time if we could… be more.”

He says it like a confession. He says it like he’s embarrassed about it.

“Well,” you say, a fire - a hope - coming back to life behind your ribcage, “maybe we should find out.”

And there it is, that smile that makes the whole world melt away.

The towel drops to the floor, forgotten, and his fingers are at the back of your neck, tugging on the knot that ties your bathing suit top in place. When the material falls away he makes a satisfied noise in his throat as he moves to kiss you again, walking you back towards the bed.

You’d both been eager, but when the mattress hits the backs of your thighs Chan lays you back slowly, almost reverently. He kisses you sweetly, tracing your jaw again, and then lets out another little laugh.

“What?” you breathe, smiling despite being clueless. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s not,” he says, but he’s still smiling, eyes tracing over your face and body. “It’s just… hard to believe this is real. That it’s you.”

Your breath leaves you. It’s exactly how you’ve felt.

“I know what you mean,” you whisper, and you kiss him again. This time he doesn’t hesitate when his hand slips between your legs, brushing right past your bathing suit and pushing the pads of his fingers into the wet mess he finds there. You shudder an exhale into his waiting mouth as he presses one finger and then a second deep into you, his eyes on you as you arch into the touch.

You let your eyes drift close as he pumps them slowly, and outside the room there’s another flash of lightning chased by the crack of thunder. For a little, there’s only the sound of rain beating against the windows as Chan works little whimpers and half moans out of you.

He switches his angle, something snagging behind your navel, everything beginning to tighten. You gasp his name, and you’re answered by his too-familiar huff of a laugh again.

“What?” you demand through your own smile.

“You say my name like that again and I’m gonna bust,” he tells you seriously. Then he brings his attention back to where his fingers disappear inside you, and his gaze sharpens. “These are in my way,” he murmurs, pulling out of you and reaching for your bathing suit, which had been pushed to the side.

“Yours too, then,” you object playfully, lifting your hips for him as he slides the damp material down your legs. He smiles at you indulgently and shuffles backwards on the back, standing long enough to tug at his swim trunks, letting them drop unceremoniously before crawling back up to you, pressing his mouth to yours and cupping your jaw with one hand, like he’d missed you in the seconds he’d been gone.

“Chan,” you whisper, because you need more of him, because this isn’t enough.

He slides lower down your body, his chest brushing against yours, his lips mapping a path down your sternum, down your belly, pausing near your navel. He looks up at you, all glinty-eyed, that million-dollar smile going slightly sideways, a little mischievous.

“Can I? Please say yes,” he says in a rush, pushing his nose into your lower belly and caressing your inner thighs with his thumbs.

You lean up on your elbows so you can look at him better. Your heart hasn’t stopped racing for a minute. He’s going to give you a cardiac event. “If you want to,” you tell him.

He laughs again, so quiet. “You have no idea,” he says, shaking his head, and then he’s attaching his mouth to you and your arms give out. You eye the ceiling, a strangled moan working up your throat as Chan’s tongue delves into your heat. You squirm, trying to push him deeper. He loops his arms under your legs and then reaches over, his hands pulling you tighter against his chin, both of you working to the same goal.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time imagining how Chan might eat pussy, but you’re surprised that he dives right into fucking you on his tongue, determined and rhythmic. You’d have pegged him for the type to go slow, draw it out, tease and taste and work you up little by little. Instead he grunts in satisfaction, pulls on you hard enough that you wonder if he’ll leave little bruises from his fingertips, and spears his tongue in and out of your hole with abandon, his nose bumping your clit every few thrusts.

You’re a whimpering mess, fighting the urge to roll your hips into his face, one hand slapped over your face to muffle the sound. He shifts, lips working their way up to your desperately pulsating clit, and you feel your whole body seize with the change of sensation, a long, low groan emanating from your chest. He suctions his lips around your clit and sucks gently, then a little less gently, and your feet scrabble against the sheets, trying to find purchase.

His fingers enter you again, his spit and your wetness giving them the perfect slide, and it’s exactly the extra stimulation you need. He only has to pump his wrist twice, that delicious suction steady around your clit, before you’re grasping desperately at him - one hand sliding into his hair and the other finding his wrist and holding tight, which doesn’t stop him at all from pistoning his fingers into that spot on your front wall that has you unraveling faster than you ever have before.

“Fuck, fuck, Chan -” you gasp. Your eyes squeeze shut and your grip on him might actually be painful, a belly-deep ahhhhh ripped from you as the onslaught of sensation sends conscious thought spinning away.

“Shhh,” he soothes, fingers slowly but continuing to work you through it. You whimper, gasp for a breath, the room coming back into view. “Not so loud, baby.”

“God, Chan,” you groan, releasing your hold on him, flexing your fingers.

He grins at you, lightning quick, then kisses the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl.”

You peer at him, boneless. “You up for more?”

He pushes himself up on his elbows, the triumph not completely melted from his face yet. “I’m up for whatever you want,” he promises. “You’re calling the shots here.”

“Excellent,” you joke. You reach towards him, barely stop yourself from making grabby hands. “Come fuck me.”

He damn near scrambles to obey. He comes up to kiss you, deep and heady, and you hook one of your legs behind him, pulling him closer. The head of his cock slides along your slit and you tilt, trying to get him where you want him.

You look up at him, feeling like he hung the stars, and whisper his name. His answer is a bite of a kiss as he pushes himself into you, stopping only when his hips are flush with yours.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he breathes, eyes closed for a second, as he holds himself over you.

“Please move,” you beg, needing more.

“God,” he groans. “Okay. Okay. I got you.”

And he does. Chan fucks like he moves - quick and precise, each motion purposeful. His eyes have narrowed with focus, brows slightly furrowed with exertion as his hips snap. He slides one hand under you to help lift you, the angle changing just slightly.

“Yeah,” you breathe, desperation lacing your voice. “There.”

The drag of him is delicious, and so is the feeling of his body under your hands, and so is the sound of his ragged breath mixed with occasional gasps and groans. It’s the fact that it’s Chan driving you even higher.

A crack of thunder sounds directly overhead, and Chan takes the moment to roll you over, laying back and letting you straddle his lap without even slipping from inside you. You whine as the new position drives him deeper than he’d been before, your hands splayed over his pecs. He’s breathing rapidly now, struggling to keep his eyes open as he continues to fuck you from below.

“I-I’m - so -” he pants, “close. Really close, baby.”

You lean down to kiss him, his arms coming up around your shoulders to pull you chest to chest until his strokes grow sloppy and his hands tighten on you. You kiss along his jaw sweetly until he releases you with a sigh. He kisses you once more before he pulls out, and then again when he returns from the bathroom with a damp cloth.

“I might need to actually shower,” you muse.

“Yeah, okay,” he says easily, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go after you. I smell like chlorine.”

You shrug. “Might as well just join me. If you want.”

He grins. He follows you into the bathroom, waits with you while the water heats up. And then he fucks you again, against the cool tiles of the shower wall.

Later, back in bed, you face each other through the dark.

“I should have said earlier,” you whisper. “But I’ve liked you for a long time, too.”

His smile makes you feel full of sunshine, even when it’s shy, even when he’s asking what you want to do about it. Especially when he’s asking you, "What are you doing next Saturday?"

Tonight, the decision to cuddle is made while you’re awake. When you wake up in the morning, sunlight streaming through the windows, Chan wastes no time in reaching between your legs, finding you ready, and rolling over top of you, pushing between your thighs before he even has his eyes all the way open.

When you both emerge from your bedroom, stomachs growling and with the beginnings of a caffeine headache, your friends are all sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded with the evidence of a breakfast come and gone. They begin a slow clap, eventually lauding you in a mostly sarcastic but still loving round of applause.

“It’s about time,” Mingyu grouses. “You two have been circling each other forever.”

“Shh,” you tell him, as Chan slips his arm over your shoulders with a grin. “Not so loud.”

thank you for reading!!! <3

2K notes · View notes

darkmatilda · 7 months ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought that after a certain misunderstanding, your relationship had taken on a purely platonic and friendly form but then the investigation sent you to the freezing wilderness of alaska, where every night you find warmth in his bed.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!bau reader, the same reader as in my story "the bolter" but it's not necessary to read it before! there are no major references, but people who have read it might treat this as a continuation (if they want to). in this story, we still have our wonderful queen elle greenaway, gideon and morgan, and many of my attempts (not always successful) at being funny. mostly smut with A LOT of plot, description of the case, oral (f receiving) and some much actions but described in a subtle way. a little bit of angst, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't add some. again, GLASSES REID!!

𝐚/𝐧: first fic at the beginning of the month, i really wanted to post it today. i think it's time to start posting christmas-themed works? would you be interested? by the way, i hope december will treat you kind <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

“I’m freezing, God, I’m freezing.”

“Me too, look how I’m shaking, I swear, one more hour and my feet will fall off, and then my toes…”

“Guys, for god’s sake!” Morgan finally spoke up, his voice tinged with impatience. The hood of his waterproof, windproof jacket covered almost half of his face, and even so, he was clearly the lightest dressed of all of them. “We’ve landed.” He pulled off a glove to check his watch. “Just under fifteen minutes ago. You still don’t know shit about freezing, so stop complaining like a bunch of old women in a knitting cycle…”

“I’d love to be an old lady in a knitting circle right now,” you sighed, your breath immediately turning to steam. You exchanged a look with Reid, who was freezing just as much as you were, and together, you had been driving Derek crazy with your whining. You all had similar gear, thermal layers, and jackets designed for extreme conditions, but it still wasn’t enough. “Sitting by the fireplace, knitting a sweater. Gossiping with other retirees.”

“Exchanging gingerbread recipes,” Spencer suggested, his tone just as wistful.

“And sharing tips for dealing with worms in our cats’ anuses,” you added.

“I’m done," Derek muttered.

Your work often sent you to various corners of the United States, but it rarely involved Alaska. Well, due to the state’s relatively low population density compared to others, fewer crimes were committed there, especially at the federal level.

However, in recent weeks, strange disappearances had occurred—teenagers and young men. Their bodies were found in remote areas, deep in the forest or in completely uninhabited wilderness, places so isolated that even an experienced survivalist would struggle to find their way out.

The local police, as local police often do in most criminal cases, initially pretended there wasn’t a problem, insisting the victims had died as a result of tragic accidents, simply getting lost during a hike. But when the number of deaths began to rise, and the victims included even high school students—locals who were well aware of the dangers of wandering alone after dark in such perilous areas—the case landed on JJ’s desk.

And so, you found yourselves in the brutally frigid surroundings of Fairbanks, heading toward the inn where you were supposed to drop off your things and immediately dive into the investigation.

"The temperature this week is going to range from 15 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer informed you over his shoulder as he opened the car trunk to retrieve the luggage. "Of course, that's during the day. At night, it’ll drop as low as -4 degrees."

Elle shivered as he handed her her bag.

"I was doing just fine without those numbers," she said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder—a touch you barely felt through the thick layers of clothing. "What do you say we make up for this with a New Year’s trip? Mallorca? The Himalayas?"

"I’m dreaming of the Caribbean," Morgan chimed in. "Beaches, sunshine, and cocktails—that’s what I’ll be dreaming of tonight."

"And half-naked sunbathers," you added.

"And half-naked sunbathers," he agreed with a grin.

Elle trudged ahead, sinking into the snow up to her calves. The inn was a sizable wooden building, adorned with balconies and terraces that, given the weather, likely went unused, though they added considerable charm. It was tucked away in a secluded spot, offering privacy and a peaceful atmosphere—ideal for work.

You lingered by the car, waiting for Reid to grab his things, unwilling to leave him behind.

“Do you know much about the northern lights, Rudolph?” you teased, nodding toward his red-tipped nose. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them.”

“Well, then you’re in luck,” he replied, looking at you with a slight smile. “We’re in one of the best places to see them, during the season with the longest nights. They’ll be visible pretty early, though the most stunning views will probably happen between ten at night and two in the morning. I’ve always wanted to see them in person too.”

"So, what do you think?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Midnight, at my door, and we’ll go play aurora hunters?"

You shivered just at the thought. Of course, you were joking—there was no way you'd even stick a single hand out from under the covers at this hour with those freezing nighttime temperatures. You planned to admire the beautiful phenomenon from your room window. Warm, you hoped.

"Alright. Just make sure you bundle up,"

"Sure. Thermal thong and all that."

Your room was on the same floor as Elle's and JJ's, and you were glad to have them just behind the next door. Unpacking took you only a minute, and within that time, you were all together, sitting as a team, going through the case files.

“These boys were so young,” JJ remarked, shaking her head with a hint of dread. “Sixteen, the youngest, twenty-four, the oldest. They were found in such remote locations that if it hadn’t been for the ongoing professional search and the dogs, who knows how long it would have taken before anyone stumbled upon their bodies.”

“Given the heavy snowfall, they might not have been found until the thaw. What do their parents and families say about all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Unanimously, they believe their kids would never have ventured that far on their own. This is where the mystery starts, though, because there were no wounds on their bodies, except for the ones they inflicted on themselves in their attempts to survive in the cold.”

“So, it looks like someone kidnapped them, drove them out to a place you’d never get out of without serious survival skills, and just left them to die?” Derek asked, baffled.

“Seems that way. Yesterday, an eighteen-year-old named David Moore was reported missing. Normally, it probably would have been classified as a delayed return home or maybe a runaway, and the police wouldn’t have even taken the report. But given the current circumstances and the rising panic among the locals, his parents decided not to wait. A wise decision.”

"How many hours has it been since he went missing?" you asked, running your own grim calculations in your head. "Around eight, right? Is it even possible for him to survive the night out there in these conditions?"

"That depends on what he was wearing and the specific location where he was left," Reid explained, thoughtfully cleaning the lenses of his glasses. You realized it had been a while since you’d seen him wearing them—he used to wear them daily, but lately, it was only on occasion. For a moment, you found yourself staring at his face, liking how the dark frames suited it.

"His parents believe he was likely abducted on his way home from tutoring," Elle noted, flipping through the case file. "People around here dress warmly as a habit, but even so, I doubt his everyday clothes would be particularly suited to weather like this. At night. In the middle of the woods."

An uncomfortable silence followed her words, broken only by Hotch clearing his throat.

"Anyway, we need to join the ongoing search efforts. We’ll be more useful out in the field than trying to build a profile with the scraps of information we have. I’m not sure if I need to remind you, but out of habit, I will: be cautious and don’t, under any circumstances, stray from the search group. They know this area."

Before you all moved out to get to work, Reid shot you a fleeting glance. Like a dad, you mouthed silently, and he let out the faintest chuckle. You both enjoyed spotting those unmistakably parental tendencies in your boss, though they were directed at you and the rest of the team.

Hours of searching had, unfortunately, yielded no results—the crushing pressure of time bore down on you all. The knowledge that each passing moment was stripping this boy of his chances for survival felt almost unbearable. If he had somehow managed to survive the first eight hours in the forest, sixteen seemed an increasingly unlikely feat.

And yet, hope lingered. The group, driven by his distraught family, refused to stop, likely continuing to scour the area despite warnings. Meanwhile, you stood in your hotel room, so close to the window that the cold glass brushed against your nose.

Your thoughts were consumed by the case and the fate of the teenager. Just as Reid had said, the sky was illuminated by that breathtaking greenish glow. Watching it felt almost surreal, and you wanted to take in as much of it as your eyes could hold.

If it weren’t for the fact that you had frozen to your very core during the search, you might have stepped outside to see it more clearly.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, there was a knock at your door.

You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone. When you opened it, you came face to face with none other than Spencer. Well, it was hard to tell it was him at first. He was bundled up so tightly in layers of warm clothes that his body lost its natural shape and resembled more of a puffy ball than a person.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, raising his hand hesitantly and scanning your appearance from head to toe. "You're not ready yet. Sorry, I think I came too early. I thought we were meeting at midnight..."

"We were meeting?"

"For the northern lights hunt, you forgot? I checked the Kp index, it's a measure of aurora activity that determines its intensity, and it turns out tonight is really favorable... wait, why are you laughing?"

His furrowed brows and face, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway but clearly confused, only made you laugh harder. Shaking your head in disbelief, you covered your smile with your hand.

"Spencer, I was joking," you said, suddenly feeling guilty that your sarcasm had led him to spend time and effort preparing for a night out. "There’s no way I'm going out in this cold. I’d rather dive headfirst into boiling water, at least that would be warmer."

“Oh,” he let out a short, disappointed sigh. He quickly nodded, as if trying to accept the situation, and forced a more neutral expression. “I—I really thought you were serious. Sorry for... for waking you up, then.”

For a moment, you stood in silence, your hand resting on the doorframe. An odd, unexpected thought sprinted through your mind. It had been such a long time since the two of you had been together like this, late at night, in the same room...

“Well, in that case,” he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry again. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Forget I came here and embarrassed myself. That’s all. Sorry. I should probably go if I want to avoid being completely sleep-deprived tomorrow...”

“Go where?” you interrupted, suddenly standing straighter, alarmed.

“Aurora hunting.”

“By yourself? Spencer, have you lost your mind?”

He opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by your outburst.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll ever get another chance like this, being in the Arctic Circle...”

“It’s pitch dark and freezing cold. You don’t know the area—”

“...I’ve had a chance to look around, and I’m not going far. There’s a small hill just behind the inn—”

“...And there’s a freaking serial killer on the loose around here, did you forget?”

“Well, I have a gun.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go,” you cut him off firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. Spencer tilted his head, clearly ready to argue further, but before he could speak, you added, “Give me five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five minutes to get dressed. I’m coming with you.”

At first, you could have sworn a faint smile flickered across his lips. But then, just as quickly, he shook his head vehemently.

“No, really, you don’t have to. Not just because of me. I’ll be fine…”

"Five minutes," you repeated once more, slightly flustered and trying not to dwell on the fact that the moment you stepped outside, you’d likely regret this decision. “Wait here. Or come inside—I don’t want to shut the door in your face.” As you spoke, you opened the door wider, inviting him in.

Without wasting another second, you headed straight for your suitcase. Okay, how many layers does one need for a night outside in Alaska?

“I actually bought a set of thermal underwear specifically for this case,” you said, pulling out the essentials from your bag. Most of what you’d worn during the day would work fine, but you debated adding an extra sweater and another pair of socks. “And, oh my God, I hate it. I’d rather wear lace thongs 24/7 than spend more than eight hours in this bugger.”

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, curious to see his reaction and waiting for his reply. It wasn’t like you wanted to embarrass him, but you absolutely adored how, in response to even your most suggestive remarks, he could always respond with complete seriousness—like he was dissecting some profound issue. Judging by the furrow of his brow, this time would be no different.

“Really? You know, thermal underwear is generally associated with comfort. The fabric is typically elastic, soft, and breathable. High-quality models are even seamless, so they don’t cause any chafing. Maybe you bought a poorly fitted one?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I have no expertise in this area. It digs in so much, though, and I have to keep myself from adjusting it. Can you imagine me sticking my hand in my pants right in front of the missing boy’s family?”

He hesitated before responding.

“Not really. But I can picture Hotch’s face.”

“And I can picture a termination notice on my desk the next day,” you quipped.

You grabbed all the clothes you had gathered and disappeared into the bathroom to layer them on. It wasn’t a quick job—by the end, you felt like your movements were completely restricted by the weight of it all—but at least you were prepared. When the first merciless blast of Alaskan air brushed against the tiny exposed part of your face, it didn’t immediately make you want to run back inside screaming.

Instead, you sighed in awe.

"I know I’ve invoked God's name a hundred times already, but God, this is beautiful," you said, feeling your own words too inadequate to describe the miracle above your heads. The streaks of light stretching across the sky, an intense green with a certain transparency, a glassy quality, the stars peeking through it all.

Spencer turned to you over his shoulder. He was only a couple of steps ahead, but he kept doing it as if afraid that in a moment of not seeing you, you'd fall into the snow and disappear forever.

“Wait until we get to the spot,” he said, his smile clearly excited. In his dark eyes, the light seemed to reflect and stay there, even when he blinked, as though he had already absorbed it all deep inside. “It’s only ten minutes away, but it makes a difference.”

"I hope you're not one of those people who says, 'Oh, it's just around the corner, we don't need a cab!' and then leads you to walk halfway across the city" you scoffed. You tried to keep your gaze fixed on his back, his lantern swinging in his hand. Alaska, the vast empty terrain, the thick layers of snow, seemed to hide some sort of mystery beneath them, and it filled you with a fair amount of fear. "Will you shield me with your chest if a bear jumps out at us?"

"Actually, yes, I would," he replied. "But not because of heroism, it's more because I have bear spray in my pocket, and by that very fact, it's probably my duty."

"Okay, let’s make a deal: you protect us from a potential bear attack, and I’ll take care of Bigfoot. By the way, that legend never really scared me. A monkey with gigantic feet just sounds too ridiculous to me. Remember that episode of History's Mysteries that we watched at your place?"

You both shared a love for a certain TV show about conspiracy theories and famous mysteries from around the world.

"Of course. You know part of it was filmed right here in Fairbanks? Bigfoot never really fascinated me either, but I liked that at the end of the episode they also mentioned other Alaskan legends. Like The Kushtaka, for example."

"I don't remember that. But I'm not sure I want you to tell me," you confessed, taking a breath, the cold biting into your lungs. Despite the layers of clothing, it was getting colder and colder, but at least you'd finally reached the spot Spencer had chosen. He was right; the vast plain on the small hill was perfect for watching the aurora. You had the feeling that the sky was only an inch above your head, and a childlike urge to reach up and touch it. "Alright, you've got me too intrigued. Go ahead."

You noticed that, unlike you, Spencer wasn't tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. He was looking at you.

"The Kushtaka is a creature from the folklore of the surrounding tribes. It is most often described as a hybrid of a human and an otter..."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"Otters, seriously? Is that supposed to chill me to the bone?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

"Okay, let me tell you the story differently," he proposed in a similar tone, swallowing as if to prepare himself for the tension-building drop in his voice. "Just like now, we're heading out to see the northern lights. Just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but darkness. The sky is overcast that day, and there’s hardly any light to see." At that moment, he switched off the flashlight he was holding, and his previously well-lit face faded into obscurity. You crossed your arms over your chest, silently promising yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being scared.

“In this story, do my thermal undies also ride up so uncomfortably?”

“Your underwear isn’t a significant part of this tale. Anyway… crap, where was I?”

“The thought of my underwear distracted you?”

You heard him sigh, almost in exasperation, and a sly smile spread across your face.

“Let me continue. No more comments about underwear.”

“My underwear or in general?”

“SO WE’RE HEADING TO SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. It’s dark, it’s creepy, and you’ve got chills running down your spine. Then suddenly, you realize you’ve lost me.”

“Phew,” you exhaled with theatrical relief. “Finally got rid of that creep who kept obsessing over my underwear.”

"You know what, I’m done. I’m done. I won’t tell you the story about the human-otter hybrid."

“I’m devastated by this fact!” you assured him in the same overly dramatic tone. Taking it a step further, you jumped toward him, desperately grabbing the fabric of his jacket. “Dr. Reid, please, I beg you, tell me about the human-otter hybrid. I need this. I’ll sell my soul and body, just please…”

Spencer threw his head back, laughing, and as you tried to calm yourself down, you leaned against him. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, sending both of you toppling into the snow.

“Damn, we’re going to be wet!” he groaned, trying to get up from the deep snowdrift you both had fallen into. It wasn’t the easiest task with all the layers of clothing and a girl who was dying of laughter on top of him.

“I think that’s enough of our aurora watching,” you said once you both finally managed to get back on your feet. Despite the ski pants and very, very warm clothes, you were starting to feel frozen. “And enough of your legends. It’s late, and we should head back.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he complained, sounding like a little puppy that had been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

“You can tell me on the way,” you replied. “Come on.”

You sent one last glance toward the sky before moving forward, your mind focused entirely on the vision of a hot, soothing bath and a blanket with an extra layer for warmth. For the rest of the walk, Spencer didn’t try to use his low voice or mysterious narrative tone. He finished the story in his usual manner, sounding more like a fascinated lecturer. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—he had sounded really sexy earlier, you had to admit.

When you both got back to the guesthouse, you glanced at the stairs leading up to your room and shook your head in refusal.

“If I don’t get under at least five blankets right this second, I’m going to die, so sorry my dear, but I’m coming to you and I won’t leave until I’m warm, or I’ll never leave at all,” you said quickly and firmly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow but replied just as energetically.

“I don’t think I have five blankets in my room.”

“Three will be fine.”

And that's exactly how it went. First, you took off your jackets, and then, in your typical everyday clothes, you quickly jumped into bed, covered with the duvet up to your neck, waiting for the pleasant warmth to spread across your bodies.

“Was seeing the aurora worth all that suffering?' you asked, turning onto your side in bed so you could face him.

'Well, it wouldn't have been suffering if someone hadn't shoved both of us into the snow...'

He said this while lying on his back, but shortly after these words, he followed your lead and also turned onto his side. Your breath became shallower. It had been almost a year since you last had him this close, almost a year since you slept together, and then decided to let the situation fade into oblivion.

Honestly, you almost succeeded. After all, that incident was like every other encounter you had with guys. Spontaneous, one-time, followed by bolting. But you didn’t see those other guys afterward. Every day at work, forced to watch him wipe his glasses, his damn glasses, with the same fingers he…

“Are you thinking about something specific?” he suddenly asked, his voice eerily similar to the one he used to tell you the story on the hill, a voice you found so sexy.

That was the kind of man Spencer Reid was. Always wanting to know what was going on inside your head.

You sighed, probably too loudly.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking right now,"

You felt a little pathetic, realizing that your whole excuse about not being able to go to your room was just a pretext to end up in his bed. Once again. This whole trip to Alaska must have really messed with your head. Or maybe it cleared the fog in your mind and left a single thought, naked and defenseless. You wanted him.

"I know how pathetic that sounds, but I always want to know what you're thinking," he replied after a moment, swallowing audibly. You heard it clearly, you were so close. So close...

You had to make a quick decision: whether to continue and face the consequences the next day, or, perhaps worse, to be rejected? It was possible that he had learned from your last time together, and didn’t want to get involved with you that way.

"I can show you what I'm thinking," you finally proposed, not blinking for a long moment, just carefully studying the features of his face, any signs of uncertainty or tension.

Because there was that one small seed of probability that he wanted you too.

His lips parted, but were immediately covered by your kiss.

Slow and curious. How did he taste after all this time?

Maybe it was a thought whispered by the moment, but you had the feeling that even better.

You didn’t play the role of a taster for too long. Soon, still not pulling his lips away from yours, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your elbow on the bed, pressing closer to him with every passing moment, more intensely and hungrily.

Something seemed to haunt you, preventing you from moving any further. Something in his posture—lying on his back, surrendered to your control, yet somehow absent.

You pulled away from his lips, your gazes meeting. There was a certain weakness and sadness in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you managed to ask, your voice strangely trembling.

Spencer suddenly sat up, straightening himself, though there was still a slight bend in his shoulders. His movement forced you to pull away from his chest.

"I can't do this," he confessed quietly, taking a deep breath. "I can't sleep with you." In a way, it hurt more than if he had simply refused to let you kiss him. Your forehead furrowed in disappointment and... shock?

"Why?" you asked directly, foregoing any excuses about not aiming for that. Because you had been.

He let out a laugh, filled with pity.

"Because after this, I won’t be able to stop thinking about you. And you, after tonight, won’t want me anymore."

You were breathing heavily, completely unsure of what to say. His words were painfully eye-opening, first and foremost. And secondly... true. Because did you plan, like a normal person, to wake up next to him, greet him, date him? That wasn’t how you operated. In your plans, there was always just one option—escape. Exactly like that time.

You slowly began to slide off the bed, his hand moved to reach for yours, and you hoped he would take it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He hesitated.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him, yet you didn’t look at him the whole time. You sounded stiff, almost reproachful, even though you were the one who should be reproached. You were the problem.

You looked around the floor, used to picking up your clothes from it, but this time there was nothing. Except for the jacket hung up and the ski pants you’d pulled on over your regular ones to avoid freezing in the cold night. Leaving without a word seemed excessive.

Your back rested against the door as you turned to look at him. Your quick-thinking mind raced, searching for something to say to at least salvage some dignity in this situation…

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” you finally suggested.

Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up or stay there. Eventually, it seemed like he stayed, though you weren’t sure, having already turned toward the door, your hand pressing on the doorknob.

“T-think that’s the best solution,” he admitted, just as one of your feet stepped into the hallway.

Then, you heard someone whistling.

You immediately stepped back into his room, keeping your face turned toward the door.

“Damn, it’s Morgan,” you said, recognizing the person in the hallway by the sound alone. “We better not let him see me leave, or he’ll never leave us alone…”

You expected that when you turned around, you’d find him still sitting on the bed. After all, you hadn’t heard him get up, hadn’t heard him approach. You certainly didn’t expect that, when you turned, his lips would almost immediately attack yours.

It was so unexpected, so sudden, that the back of your head slammed against the door.

“Fuck, sorry…”

But you didn’t think for a second about the pain, nor did you focus on why Spencer had suddenly changed his mind. Your attention was solely on the two of you, two desperate pairs of lips pressing together and pulling apart, never staying away for long.

He pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Unlike the last time, it was your back that hit the mattress first. The cool surface, the heated bodies, and the weight of the layers of clothing between you both.

"You've changed," you noticed.

A different dynamic. The pace was set by him—just moments ago, you were standing by the door, and now, half of your clothes were gone, while the soft skin of your neck was buried under a cascade of messy, impatient kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his face hovering above yours, one hand resting on the bed next to it.

"I haven't gotten enough to say for sure," you replied, teasingly. "But I get the feeling you're more confident now. A lot of practice since last time?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it's about practice," he said, his hand sliding down your side until it stopped at the waistband of your pants, lingering there but not moving any lower. You reached for his hand, brushing against it before trailing your fingers along its length up to his forearm, feeling one of his veins beneath your fingertips. "I guess... I was just scared you'd leave, and I had to stop you somehow. That’s why I rushed," he admitted.

His gaze lingered mostly on your face, but it wandered across your body, his frustration clear as he eyed the layers of clothing still in his way. Something about his desperation and impatience stirred something playful in you, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you tilted your chin to look at him.

“If I tried to leave right now, how would you stop me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at your question, but he decided to play along, nodding thoughtfully.

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to show me?” you asked, your voice dripping with challenge.

For a moment, he didn’t move at all, just kept staring at you, until he allowed himself that first, utterly shameless drop of his gaze and a soft sigh. His lips began their journey, starting at their usual, safe spot on your neck, trailing toward your shoulder, and crossing over your collarbone with deliberate intent. You were still half-sitting, struggling to steady your breathing so your chest wouldn’t rise and fall too much or too quickly, trying not to disrupt him. The first hint of uncertainty appeared between your breasts when his kisses momentarily softened, carefully exploring unfamiliar territory and testing your sensitivity.

You struggled more and more to keep yourself from collapsing fully onto the mattress. But when his cool tongue met your skin, pressing against it so firmly that his forehead brushed against your stomach, relentlessly moving lower, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

He was between your knees, bent in anticipation. He reached them, sliding his hands down your thighs and coaxing them to relax. He fumbled a bit while unbuttoning your pants, and had trouble sliding them down while you were lying there. You lifted your hips to help, even tried to do it yourself, but he stopped your hands, placing them above your head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly, finally freeing your legs from both pant legs. His hands wrapped around your ankles, his thumb tracing gentle circles around one of them, which somehow completely seized your attention, and you focused solely on that subtle motion. For a moment, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you noticed that his chin was just above your panty line. "Actually, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just focus on feeling and nothing else. I was supposed to show you my ideas, remember?"

“As someone who apologized for being in too much of a hurry, you sure have an unexpectedly large amount of patience now,” you remarked with reproach, lifting your head again. Maybe keeping it down allowed for more comfort and relief for your neck, but on the other hand, the sight of his face immersed between your thighs was simply priceless.

If the sight itself was priceless, how do you describe that feeling?

With every move of his tongue, your hips swayed, adjusted to the rhythm. Often tense, trying to find some outlet, especially when sighs escaped his lips and his cool breath penetrated through you.

"Think I'm gonna cume embarrassingly quickly," you confessed, unsure whether he even understood anything from your sentence, which was at least interwoven with two moans. Three.

When it happened, you uncontrollably squeezed his head with your knees, a similar groan also came from his mouth.

Spender didn’t stay in that position for long. When you opened your tightly shut eyelids, his face was right above yours, stretched in such satisfaction, as if he was the one receiving pleasure.

"Was it too quick for you?" he asked, still absorbing you with the same gaze, which seemed to pulse with desire. "If you want, we can try again, you’ll surely improve..."

"My God, when did you become so cocky?"

He chuckled, but instead of answering, he once again pressed himself against your body and skin, closing his eyes in devotion and lingering on each spot for as long as it took, as if he could never be satisfied, no matter how much he took in.

Your hands, instead of tormenting the innocent fabric of the blanket, moved to his back, tightly embracing his neck and basically everything they could latch onto. All of his earlier composure seemed to evaporate; you didn’t even have to ask twice to make him slide in. It actually sounded more like an order than a request, a bit desperate, it's true, but still an order.

"How is it even possible that it feels even better than the last time?” His words, his lips, ticked your neck as he moaned out this question. "Just... I feel like I won’t have enough of you tonight."

"The night is long," you said, almost into the air, not really paying attention to the meaning behind it. "Tomorrow night too."

Spencer stopped, completely. His eyes desperately searched for yours, and when he finally found them, they widened in disbelief.

"Tomorrow night too?" he repeated. "But I thought... I thought you didn't want anything more than a one-night fling…”

"It's already our second," you reminded him. "And I'll be completely honest with you, I don’t want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of you. Let's make a deal, okay?"

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it in a moment, but right now...Oh God, I think I’m gonna…”

You both got dressed right after, but not because either of you intended to leave. The temperature inside simply didn’t allow for sleeping naked, no matter how warm you were after sex.

"So?" he asked, handing you the piece of paper you had sent him to the bathroom for. Then he sat on the bed, facing you. "What did you mean by this deal?"

"Well, after thinking about it, I'm not sure if it's a good idea after all..."

"I want to know, even if just out of curiosity."

"You want to know everything, Spence. But fine. I thought maybe... while we're in Alaska, we could just, you know, allow ourselves to do whatever we want. In more direct terms, fuck each other as much as we want.”

It sounded a bit...crazy? Spencer kept his gaze suspended in the air for a moment before turning it back to you, questioning.

"But only as long as we're in Alaska?"

"Exactly. Since there's only one floor between us, why not take advantage of it?" you tried to joke, lightening the mood.

It didn’t seem to have much effect on him.

"But what happens next? When we get back?"

"Do we really have to think about that?" you wondered, moving closer to him, to the body that just moments ago made you feel so good. "We'll get used to being apart, just like before."

"Okay," he sucked in a breath, clearly torn over the proposal. "I mean, no, I didn’t mean okay... because it doesn’t seem like a great idea, but on the other hand... on the other hand, I really, really want you, even if it only means for this short time."

You smiled, though deep down, somewhere very deep, there was something somber in that gesture.

Ignoring that, you kissed him to seal the deal. And not just that.

"That was for good night and goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?" A clear look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of it. "Good night, then."

"It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just that it would be better to be well-rested for work, and I don't think we'd sleep properly if I decided to spend the night here. “

You saw him open his mouth, ready to protest, but you had already gotten up from the bed and started gathering your remaining things.

"Wait," he called as you were about to leave. "You said... you said something that's been bothering me, you know? I can even quote it, so listen up. You said that you don't want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of me."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter.

"And that bothers you?"

"I don’t understand what you meant by that. What in my behavior makes you feel that way?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you someday. Maybe it's better if you're not aware of it."

"Hey, now I won’t be able to sleep!"

"Anyway, good night, sweet boy."

Almost the first thing in the morning, you found yourselves at the local police station, full of disappointment and anxiety. You had to inform the parents of the missing boy found in the forest that he had been located. But unfortunately, it was not good news.

The first hours of the day passed in constant analysis and discussion, until finally, around noon, you gathered in front of the town's police officers, ready to deliver the profile. You didn’t have much time for any reflection on the previous night, or even for a conversation with Spencer. A sober one this time, when you weren’t intoxicated by desire and each other.

You stood in the corner of the room, listening to Hotch and Gideon.

"The UNSUB is a white male, likely with military experience or, at the very least, extensive survival skills, estimated to be around 50-60 years old. He abducts teenagers, boys, and young men who look younger than their actual age, which suggests he doesn’t know his victims very well."

"If he observes them, it’s for a short period. He doesn’t have time to get to know them but understands their routine and daily schedule well enough to know when to strike."

"He doesn’t drug his victims, which means he is physically capable of abducting them without assistance. This ties into the type of victims he selects. All these boys were more the intellectual type than athletes. When abducted, they were coming from school, tutoring sessions, or the library. David Moore, for instance, was tall but lanky. His family described him as gentle, with a big heart and a passion for learning."

"The UNSUB abandons them in remote forest locations. Forcing them to fight for survival gives him a sense of control and serves as a way to prove his belief that modern society and boys today are incapable of handling adversity. He openly despises them, viewing them as weak and effeminate. His mindset reflects a toxic approach to gender roles and what he considers the traditional male archetype."

“White men aged 50-60 with survival skills make up about half the population here,” a policeman noted. “Take me, for example…”

Hotch began providing more detailed information, while Gideon stepped out of the center of the room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

You approached Reid, who was sitting in a chair, and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“Watch your back, genius-boy,” you warned, standing behind him. From his seat, he tilted his head all the way back to look up at you. A smile instantly appeared on his face.

“You might just be next. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, you think I’m effeminate?”

"I know very well that you're not. But you do have that intellectual spark in your eyes. And, you know, those glasses don’t help."

Ever since you’d been in Alaska, he’d worn them less often because, as he’d told you while chatting in bed, they kept fogging up. But now, they were perched on his nose, making him look... delectable. Simply delectable.

The rest of your team approached, Elle's gaze lingering on your hand resting on the back of Reid's chair. As usual, she had to notice everything.

"I need to send you all to a few places to check out some individuals the police have identified as matching the profile," Hotch announced. "Y/N and Elle, I’d like you to speak again with the bus driver who drove David Moore just before he was abducted. Once he understands the profile, he might be able to recall more details."

You lingered in the room, wanting to exchange a word with Spencer. In complete privacy... He was slowly wiping his glasses, as if hoping for the same. Watching the movements of his hands, you shook your head.

"This is it—what you asked me about yesterday. What makes me sexually frustrated. Our agreement still stands, right?" you asked, running your hand along his shoulder, just to touch him. Even though the many layers of clothing made it almost impossible to really feel him.

He looked at the glasses he was cleaning, then at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"That's what you meant? Cleaning glasses?"

"Don't judge me. It's about the motion. Or maybe the glasses themselves, I don't know. Maybe I’m a fetishist. Anyway, are you going to answer my question?"

Still seated in the chair, he had to tilt his head back to look at you, which reminded you—just a little, okay, a lot—of another situation where he was down below.

"What about you?" he countered. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, yes. It still stands."

“Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if you’d answered differently. See you tonight, then,” you promised, glancing around the room to make sure none of your team members were still there. Just a few local officers... who weren’t paying much attention to you. Even if they were, it wasn’t their business.

You leaned in quickly to kiss him. He closed his eyes, as if hoping for more.

“Not now, and not here. I need to go find Elle. Hotch gave us an assignment. Have a good one.”

You walked away, feeling his gaze on your back.

You found your friend in the car, one of those suited for tough terrain, with high tires. She was sitting behind the wheel, tapping her nails on it.

"So, what was the address of that driver?" you asked, fastening your seatbelt.

"Forgive my bluntness, darling, but I’ll die if I don’t know. What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, ‘What was that all about’?"

"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Messing with his hair, the chair, the looks. Are you two sleeping together again?"

You technically had no reason to hide anything from her, after all, you trusted her completely and had never hesitated to talk about your sex life. But this time... you kind of liked the idea of keeping whatever happened between you and Spencer just between the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We're just acting like we usually do," you said.

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling away from the police station, her gaze shifting between the road and you. "Then what were those sounds last night from his room?"

"Oh shit, did we make noise?"

She smiled triumphantly.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm just teasing you. I'm on a completely different floor. But I'll take that as an admission of guilt."

"Manipulative bitch!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. So?"

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh, but eventually, you confirmed her suspicion with a nod.

"I thought you didn't sleep with the same guy twice."

"The air in Alaska really does something strange to me."

"Sure. The air," she scoffed, and you furrowed your brows in slight confusion, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. The car glided along one of those completely empty, snow-covered roads where there was nothing to focus on. "You know, I wonder why you just don't admit that you like him?"

"I don't hide the fact that I like him."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Try what, Elle?"

She glanced at you sideways, her lips tightening at your obviously irritated tone. She didn't mean to upset you, of course, but that's how you felt. She sighed, as if thinking about how to approach the subject.

"You've learned to live with it," she finally began, slowly and cautiously weighing her words. "With that fear. Of intimacy and commitment."

"It's just a preference."

"No, it's not a preference. It's fear. You're afraid that if you get emotionally close to someone, you'll be abandoned, and you don't want to risk another painful loss. You want to have full control over the relationship and disappear when you feel like it's fading. Usually in the morning. It's a common mechanism, and it's not just about you. And no mechanism can be broken without making an attempt."

"Elle, stop. You're profiling me, and you know how much I hate that."

And actually, you hated being confronted with the truth about yourself and being internally forced to draw conclusions about yourself.

It was easy, living without reflecting on oneself. Especially when those reflections were painful. You could hurt yourself, unsuccessfully trying to confront them, or flow along with their current, completely subordinated to them and deaf to the words of others, who said you were only hurting yourself in the bigger picture.

Elle dropped the subject, as you had arrived at the house of the man you were supposed to interview. She didn’t bring it up again afterward. The hours at work passed, and you only waited for that specific moment when you'd cross the threshold of that room again.

The previous night danced vividly in your mind, never slowing down or taking a break for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his face, and unbuckling his belt.

Spencer took a sharp breath, shocked and amused, as soon as you touched him.

"It would be incredibly awkward if someone were at my place right now," he chuckled into your mouth, half of his sentence drowned out by your kiss.

You pulled your face away just slightly, raising your eyebrows. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing glasses. Oh, he was so completely unaware of what you were about to do to him...

"How many people do you bring to yourself every night?" you asked.

"In that regard, only you. Besides, this is only the second time, so I wouldn’t call it every night... but I could always be here with someone, talking..."

"Keeping each other warm," you added.

Your hands slid under the fabric of his clothes, brushing the lower part of his stomach.

He noticeably tensed under your fingers, swallowing slowly, impatient and pleading.

"Engaging in a worldview discussion and exchanging conclusions," he finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Uh-huh. Exactly like we are now. Honestly, does that turn you on? Do you want me to share my political views while you’re eating me out?”

"This is probably the only scenario in which you could make me not feel pleasure because of it."

His hands hesitated, roaming uncertainly across your body, unsure of where to start. They brushed over so many spots, moving from one to the next, chaotic and desperate.

You didn’t know where to focus – on the lips in the hollow of your neck, on the hand on your hips, or the other, slipping lower and lower?

Or perhaps on that sound, right by your ear, sweet, pleading whimper?

Moan left your body just for that reason and you already knew how you wanted the rest of the night to unfold.

You gently pushed him back, and with quickened breath, you dropped to one knee, then the other.

"After yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about you," you confessed, making sure your lips were close enough to his body as you spoke. You heard him inhale sharply, whispering something under his breath. "I couldn't focus on work at all. So today, I want to take care of you, completely."

You thought he would be satisfied with the offer; well, it was hard to deny that he was. Still, for some reason, he started shaking his head.

"N-no, that's not... I want to do it. Take care of you, I mean."

You couldn’t stop smiling, but at the same time, you weren’t about to back down, which should probably be enough to describe the dynamics of the following hours.

At times, it was brutally slow, while at other moments, it was hurried and impressive. Sometimes, you interrupted each other constantly, unable to stop talking, and at other times, the only sound filling the room was your two breaths, the only constant, restless, and laced with moans and cries.

"You’re not leaving me tonight, right?" he asked, drawing closer to your body and holding you almost pleadingly. You laughed against his skin, shaking your head in denial.

"At some point, I will have to. For about fifteen minutes, before everyone wakes up."

"You’ll say you just came by for something. To ask a question or something," he tried to convince you.

"Oh, at this early hour, looking like I’ve just done a two-hour workout? Derek would eat us alive. His eyebrow would never drop again. If I ever end up in hell, it will be with him there, looking at me like that." You tried to mimic his expression, tensing your jaw as you did.

"Stop, I feel harassed."

"You see? And if he found out about us, this is how the next... God, I can’t even predict when he’d get tired of it. Maybe in a year. Do you want to suffer for another whole year just to be with me for an extra fifteen minutes?"

"I’d be able to survive that," he declared quietly, placing his hand under your head and playing with your hair with one of his fingers. "But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to waste time and try to convince you."

"Sure," you scoffed playfully. "So many things could be done in that time."

"Like what?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Try to sleep. What were you hoping for?"

"Nothing, nothing. But you used a plural in that sentence and then only gave one thing. So, I’m waiting for the rest."

"That’s an overinterpretation."

"More like a simple analysis of sentence structure."

"Maybe sometimes it's better to analyze a little less. Spencer."

"I don’t think I’m capable of that," he admitted, his tone a little more serious. You furrowed your brow, looking at his pale face in the weak light, showing signs of the night’s exhaustion. "That’s just how my brain works. It doesn’t give me much time to rest."

You often wondered what the world looked like from his perspective. How, in many ways, his genius was both a revelation and a curse. But you’d never heard him complain about it—until now. In fact, it wasn’t even a complaint, just a statement of fact, somewhat melancholy.

You kissed the top of his head, hoping it would have a soothing effect.

And indeed, it worked. He moved even closer to you, rested his head, and after a moment, almost at the same time, your eyelids fell.

The morning passed slowly and longingly, even though you were still so close to each other. However, there was the awareness that with the arrival of the day, you would have to wait many, many hours before you saw each other again. In a similar way, you meant. After all, at work, you constantly spent time together, which only made everything more difficult. It would have been much easier to push him out of your head and focus, if it weren’t for that.

Meanwhile, Spencer, perhaps trying to gently play on your nerves, cleaned his glasses much more often than necessary. But there was also the possibility that he was doing it the same amount as usual, and you were just imagining it.

"Are you doing that again?" Morgan nodded in his direction as a greeting when you were sitting in the guesthouse room that served as your team's meeting place. There was a long table in there, similar to the one in your office, but much narrower. Sitting across from Reid, you could easily touch his hand. If you wanted to. "Is this some new nervous tic of yours? Polishing them?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer furrowed his brow in mock surprise, stopping the corner of his mouth from twitching. You kicked him under the table, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.

To hide your amusement, you covered your face with your hand, but Morgan immediately picked up on it.

"Is this some new inside joke of yours?"

"He’s literally just polishing his glasses, leave him alone," you said.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in the same way you had imitated him the night before. Neither of you could hold it in and burst into laughter.

"What’s going on?" JJ asked, walking into the room.

"Something very strange is going on," Derek announced mysteriously, staring at you both intently. His hands were resting on his hips, and his head tilted in thought. "Something very strange..."

Then Hotch arrived, even more serious than usual, which immediately dispelled the good mood. The rest of the team also arrived—Elle and Gideon—and everyone took their seats at the table.

"In the past few hours, there hasn’t been any concerning missing person reports," Hotch informed you. "On one hand, that’s good; on the other, it means the unsub will strike again soon. And we can’t let that happen."

"And you even have a plan," Gideon stated, with some sort of understanding in his eyes.

Hotch looked at you all with hesitation before nodding in confirmation.

"That's right, I have. I've concluded that we have no choice but to set a trap."

At those words, his gaze rested on Spencer, which was enough for you to figure it all out even before the main subject did.

"With all due respect, Hotch, have you lost your mind?!"

And how exactly do you envision this?" Elle asked, not as shaken as you but clearly concerned. "Sure, he fits the profile of his victims, but how is he supposed to set himself up? Walk around town and hope to get kidnapped?"

"At least two of the victims were abducted on the same stretch of road, after getting off the bus at the same isolated bus stop while walking home alone. It’s an exceptionally safe location for him," your boss explained.

"Honestly, I’m not convinced," Derek interjected, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. "I just don’t think he’d use the exact same spot again. Word has probably spread around the area that the FBI is on the case. He might be more cautious and change his methods."

"But he might just as well try again," JJ said quietly. You looked at her with clear surprise, as you had expected that, with her characteristic care for the team, she would be against the idea. "Right now, it’s the only thing we can do to try to prevent another abduction."

You drew a breath, understanding her arguments but remaining entirely opposed. Your gaze finally fell on Spencer, for the first time since the idea had even been brought up. He was sitting very upright, his brow furrowed, and he slowly began nodding.

"JJ’s right, it’s the only thing we can do," he said. He wasn’t looking at Hotch, nor even at the team as a whole—he was looking at you, directly and only at you. A calming, slightly nervous smile crossed his face, making you scoff. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’ll all be around, on the bus, near the stop."

With his words, the decision was made, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

"I want to be on the same bus," you declared desperately, crossing your arms over your chest. You simply couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Spencer was willingly putting himself in harm's way—especially when the unsub's desire was to hurt people like him. "I’ll pose as a civilian. A random young woman. I shouldn’t seem like a threat, and someone from our team has to be inside."

"You’re right," Hotch replied, looking at you with sharp attention. "But it will be Elle."

You and your friend exchanged a confused look, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I don’t think it makes much of a difference," she tried to intervene, which made you feel grateful.

Although, it didn’t change anything…

"I’m not obligated to explain myself to you about this decision, especially in front of the entire team. This is an order," Hotch announced with almost brutal professionalism. "The only thing I can say is that we need someone who won’t break character until the very end. Someone who won’t let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" Gideon asked, directing the question at Spencer. His tone was understanding, prepared to accept any refusal without judgment.

This time, he didn’t look at you. As Spencer nodded in confirmation, he actually avoided your gaze.

"Then we have the whole day to prepare for the sting. Let’s hope this leads to catching the unsub," Hotch concluded the meeting, signaling that you could leave the table.

You were torn between staying and screaming at your boss or leaving the room after Reid. Well, the second option wouldn’t get you fired. And, honestly, it seemed like the better choice. It turned out he wanted to talk to you too, as he was clearly waiting for you in the narrow hallway of the inn, where animal antlers hung on the walls and an informational board about moose was displayed.

"Are you angry because I want to do this?" he asked, the narrow walls around you making you stand quite close. Well, not as close as you could be, but close enough to add gravity to the conversation and allow you to study his face carefully.

Especially his determination. The determination for this job, for solving the case, and for preventing others from suffering the same tragic fate at the hands of this killer. Finally, you understood that your reaction was a bit irrational. Because if the victims were young women with your looks... you’d agree to it without hesitation. Some hypocrisy, huh?

"No. I'm just terrified that you're going to do this," you confessed, your honesty and concern making his face twitch in surprise. You snorted, trying to ease the tension. "I’m angry at Hotch for calling me emotionally unstable in front of all of you."

Spencer smiled gently, though there was stress hiding behind it. He may have been determined to go through with it, but that didn’t change the fact that there was fear accompanying him. He tried not to show it, but anyone in his position would feel it.

"Well, in his defense, he phrased it a bit more subtly."

You let out a soft laugh, stretching your arm out to gently touch his forearm. As your hand slid up, you leaned in a little, the simple gesture helping you feel more grounded and at ease.

His gaze followed your movements with a gentle satisfaction. You didn’t pull him closer, you were simply stroking his arm in that easy, caring way that calmed both of you.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?" you asked quietly. "You’ve never put yourself in this position like this."

He shook his head in denial.

"I’m really... really worried that I’ll do something wrong and we won’t be able to catch him because of me."

"You should worry about yourself, Spencer. Not about that. I’m sure you’ll play your part better than anyone could. "But I really regret that I won’t be able to be right next to you, in case something goes wrong."

His lips parted and closed in a kind of... amusement?

"I was going to say that maybe Hotch could be convinced, but then I realized, no, he won’t be. No matter what you say. And besides, having you there wouldn’t let me focus fully."

"I’m aware of that," you joked, tossing your hair dramatically. "After all, I look stunning."

"I was more referring to the fact that I’d be focused only on making sure nothing happens to you, but yeah. That’s one of the reasons too."

You fell silent, oddly moved by that confession. It was so simple, driven by care, affectionate. And it definitely made your head spin in the context of your relationship. You shook your head, pulling yourself away from those thoughts. As long as you were in Alaska, you could afford anything. After that, who knows.

You swallowed and put on a playful expression, it came with some effort, but you managed.

"Okay, genius-boy. Let me prepare you. You need to know how to behave."

"I thought I was just supposed to be myself," he noted, letting you pull him by the wrist.

"Well, mostly, yes. But it's still better to rehearse, get you into character. Don't you have any random fun facts to share?"

"I always have some fun facts to share. An endless amount."

"We'll see."

For the rest of the day, up until the inevitable moment of setting the trap for the unsub, you listened carefully to everything he had to say. His constant chatter allowed him to occupy his mind, pushing the stress aside to the point that, when it was time for him to head to the designated location, he seemed almost surprised that the hour had come. Only then did certain shadows begin to cross his face.

You paced restlessly around the inn as the whole team prepared. Your task was to take a position with Gideon at a certain distance from the bus stop, to cut off the unsub's escape route if necessary. The bus driver had agreed to cooperate, and JJ was giving him instructions, asking him to act as naturally as possible. There were to be no civilians on board, only Elle and a few inconspicuous local police officers. Hotch and JJ planned to follow the bus from a distance by car. Morgan was to lay low at the bus stop, also posing as a civilian.

You moved closer to Spencer, breathing heavily, his presence alone calming you down.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him just before you were about to leave. Morgan gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and everyone was still gathered around you. You gently hugged him, just as any other friend would, just like Elle and JJ had moments before.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with appearances. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head in a strong, lingering embrace.

“Y/N, you and Gideon need to go now," Hotch interrupted.

As you were walking away, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he also gave Reid a brief squeeze on the shoulder.

It was a truly tense moment. You found yourself in a position where you had no visibility on what was happening inside the bus, nor could you gauge the gravity of the situation. All you could hear through the earpiece was Elle's whispered signal informing you that the suspect, fitting the profile, had just entered the vehicle.

And even though you didn’t have high hopes for the plan, everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. Spencer exited the bus, and the unsub followed him. The suspect seemed intent on tracking him down that desolate, shadowy road, planning to attack and abduct him. But at the last moment, Reid turned, and before the man could react, he was surrounded by the police.

On your last night in Alaska, you found yourself on top, with his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his hands placed on your hips, and in a position where you could look at each other and talk.

"You really did great today," you praised, leaning in to gently kiss his collarbone.

He didn't seem flattered by your words, no smile on his lips, just that sad, aching expression that caused you pain. Wanting to shake off the feeling, you quickened your movements, hoping it would work, but then he tightened his embrace, making you slow down once again.

"I want... I want to enjoy you," he said with a slightly embarrassed tone, his fingers tracing restless, tender circles on your bare skin. "Since this is our last time together."

For a moment, he gazed at your face, as if hoping you would say something. But he couldn't find any trace in your expression that would suggest you had changed your mind. The small, naive spark in his eyes faded. Elle's words about breaking the cycle echoed in your mind, but not in your heart. You couldn't turn them into reality; you simply couldn't. The agreement remained the agreement.

Once you returned, everything would go back to how it was before.

another author's note: I plan to create a tag list and I want to know who among you would like to be on it. please, let me know in the comments.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal mind #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

1K notes · View notes

kimkaelyn · 1 year ago

Text

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #fic: ditto #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you

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gravegoer · 7 months ago

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Hello, how about a part 2 of being Sevika's boss maybe when they got together or something like that thankyouuu and i love all of your ficss thank you making them hehe

Sevika's Boss ꩜ part 2

hi anon, sevikas boss fanfic got a lot of love a while ago so im happy to write part 2 !! let me know if you enjoyed i threw in some misunderstandings for fun here..maybe kind of angst?? its okay tho you make up very quickly PART 1 , masterlist

You and Sevika hung around eachother a lot, I mean that was normal right? She is your second in command afterall.

Personally, you didn't see a problem with it, and nor did Sevika.

She had grown accustomed to your presence and didn't mind all your small, loving touches and annoying jokes.

And yes, sometimes she went a little overboard for you, like what kind of subordinate stays at their bosses house to tend to them whilst they are injured? Or goes out for drinks every weekend? But maybe your relationship was starting to exceed the bounds of boss and employee.

She has definitely warmed up to you more than she did with Silco. She thinks it was your charming personality, or cute outfits, your smile...

Some people might say you sitting in Sevikas lap while you fixed up her arm might be indecency in the workplace, but you found it to be a simple and innocent task.

But this begs the question, what exactly is your relationship?

This is also a question Jinx was starting to ask herself.

"So uh...whats with you and Sevika?" Jinx asked in an almost singsongy voice.

She flipped her gun around in her hand haphazardly while she was sprawled out on your (Silcos) desk.

"What do you mean whats with us..?" You shook your head, mimicking her movements with your pen.

"I meaaan, you guys act like a married couple or something!" She threw her two hands in the air with a 'duh' kind of look plastered on her face.

You pushed one of her braids to the side to pull out a paper from under it. One of Sevikas reports from a recent trip. Her handwriting was an imperfect cursive. Sighing, you put your face in your hand while you held the paper, staring at it diligently.

Jinx looked at you quizically at your lack of an answer. She sharply pushes the paper down with the tip of her gun, "Hey, are you— Oh," She let out a nasally laugh at the paper, "Damn, you got it bad, huh, toots?"

"What? I have what bad?" You slid the paper away and tilted your head at her.

The blue-haired girl sat up and rested a spindly arm on her knee, "You're so in L word with her." She snickered at you.

"Im in—" Your face flushed at your realization. "I am not in 'L word' with her." You raised your hands to do finger quotes around 'L word.'

"Hmmmm, are you sure?" She teased, putting her gun to her chin and looking up in mock thought "I mean, you practically cling to her, you always walk home with her, and plus you talk about her all the time– hell! You talk to her all the time."

You stared at Jinx, now zoning out in thought. What were you supposed to tell Sevika? Does Sevika even think the same way about you? Would that relationship even be appropriate?

"You know what?" You stood up and pointed in Jinx' face, "Im going to do it—"

She attempted to cut you off with a meek,

"Sevikas—"

"Im going to tell her I love her," You continued, Jinx' half attempt to save your ass fell on deaf ears.

You looked up, finger still in the girls face to make eye contact with a very familiar set of grey eyes. Fuck.

Sevikas gaze faltered, and she cleared her throat, bringing a fist to her mouth, "Um. I came to ask you if you wanted to grab a drink, but it seems like you have better plans."

Holy shit. She didn't know it was about her. Is that good or bad? You only felt a few seconds of relief before Sevika just turned around and walked out. That was bad.

Jinx whistled, still under the pressure of your pointing finger, "You have some explaining to do."

You fumbled over your words before pushing Jinx' forehead back with your finger. "Ughh.. This is your fault."

You drooped back down into the large chair, putting your head in your hand and heaving a sigh.

"Just go tell her while you still have a chance. She's probably going to be moping around the Last Drop," Jinx got up from her spot on the desk, and some papers fell with her.

"That's my queue to leave, though," She hopped out of the office with a little too much energy, probably on her way to cause more mischief.

You sighed and packed up your stuff, picking up stray papers and shoving them into a random drawer on your desk.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you pushed open the double doors to your office. It was time to go to the last drop.

poor sevika

Your entrance was signified with the ding of a bell atop the door. Music was playing loudly, and people were swarmed around the bar. Your eyes scanned the nearest areas for Sevika, but as you figures she was nowhere in sight.

She was most definitely in her usual gambling spot. You didn't want to approach her while she was in the middle of a game, so you waited at a nearby table, making sure to stay out of her sight.

You could hear the groans of the men at her table, most definitely losing. Chuckling at this, you watched as a waiter came up to your table asking for your order.

You just asked for a simple whiskey sour, hanging your bag on the back of your chair.

Several minutes (and a few drinks later), you felt someone's eyes on the back of your head. Turning around, you, once again, were met with steely grey eyes. Sevika stood near behind you with her arms crossed. The game had finished.

"You get rejected or something." She deadpanned.

"No—well.. not yet." You turned around in your chair to face her, the metal back of the chair was now settled between your legs.

You held what you thought was your sixth whiskey sour in between your fingers, chin resting on the top of the chair back.

She scoffed at this, turning her head to avoid eye contact. You could have sworn a small blush coated her cheeks. But her frown made you think otherwise, her large forearms tensed before she spoke.

"Oh, so you're waiting for her here."

How cruel of you to profess your love to someone in the place you knew Sevika would be. You probably wanted her to see it, right?

"Yeah, shes already here." You said, still staring at her side profile, tracing the scar on her cheek with your eyes.

The neon lights illuminated her face and brought out every curve and angle. But your thoughts were interrupted by her stern and almost angry voice.

"I should leave then," she started to walk away, but you reached out quickly.

(I dont know why you would do that when she wasn't even in arms length to begin with.) You started to fall forward, you let out a small yelp and held onto the chair, your drink falling onto the ground. You awaited impact, but it never came.

Instead, you were met with strong arms holding the back of your chair up. Sevika was bent over slightly, both mechanical arm and human arm on the metal of the chair. And for the third time, you made eye contact with now very close grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed in shock or frustration- you couldn't tell.

Without another thought, you grabbed her by the collar and pulled her lips into yours. At first, she tried to pull away but eventually melted into the heat of the kiss. She sat your chair back up on four legs, and her elbows lean on the top of the chair, encircling you.

Almost as soon and she relented she pulled away, "What the hell are you doing," She rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of a large hand.

Her lips were still puffy from the kiss, but almost more downturned than before. When you didn't respond she offered a question, "Are you drunk?"

Your lopsided grin told her all she needed to know. She knew she needed to take you home, but she was going to do so reluctantly. Afterall you were going to become someone else's girl, couldn't have her hands all over you like she usually did.

She grabbed you (almost roughly) by the arms and pulled you out of the chair, "How are you going to profess your love now?" She scoffed.

"I just did, was that not enough?" Your words were slurred and you helped her by stepping up with heavy legs.

She furrowed her brows until she came to a not-so-shocking realization. Cursing under her breath she smirked at you. You could almost see the relief wash over her face.

Her thick arm held you by your upper torso as she almost carried you to the doors. She sighed at your stupidness, why not just tell her right away, then you wouldn't have to have gone through all the trouble.

She eyed your glossed over eyes, shaking her head at the dumb smirk that held its place on your face. She could feel the quiver of your body against the cold night wind.

At that she lifted you into her arms, covering you with her cloak. You looked up at her with wide eyes, burying your face in the material. God she wanted to kiss you so bad. But she'd save that for the awkward talk in the morning.

thank you for reading ! yes i see your asks all your fics are on the way I swear !!!! much love

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loserabby · 14 days ago

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could you write something on eating out big pussy!abby for the first time

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚. 𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑) big clit!abby x reader

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . ** MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOGI DO NOT GIVE ANYBODY PERMISSION TO REUPLOAD OR PLAGARISE MY WORK. IF YOU SEE SOMETHING I'VE WRITTEN ANYWHERE ELSE OTHER THAN HERE OR MY A03, PLEASE LET ME KNOW VIA ASK **

₊˚ 𓂃 ₊ ˚ ✧ some people just aren't into receiving, or at least that's what you think the problem is when it comes to the fact that your girlfriend of two months still won't let you make her feel good. until you accidentally catch her naked for the first time and suddenly you start to get an idea about what might actually be the problem.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : explicit language and content, use of Y/N, no outbreak au (modern), established relationship, references to sex, enlarged clitoris (clitoromegaly), slight misunderstandings. sexual content: kissing, dry humping (once again, to quote madeline argy: BRING BACK DRY HUMPING), mentions of strap-ons and sex-toys, cunnilingus, cum eating. slight dirty talk. mentions of past bodyshaming, embarrassment 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 5,869k

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 : i mean i imagine her pussy to be an absolute meal in all my writing but this one really focus' on it. shout out to @onlyheluvsme for being the mvp of team big clit abby i highly recommend going through her masterlist for that it's... chefs kiss. ngl the smut is not my best but this has been fermenting in my drafts for like a week and showed no signs of getting better I'M SORRY. and finally, clitoromegaly is obviously nothing to be embarrassed by and i don't want anyone to take abby's shame/bad experiences in the past as me mocking the mutation but it is something others might not be as well educated about so i didn't want to pretend that doesn't happen. [ read on ao3 ]

[ border credit ] [ resources for palestine ] [ boycott tlou ]

Admittedly, it takes a few times before you start to pick up on a recurring theme and when you do pick up on it? You don’t just feel guilty but… Curious, and deep down… Disappointed.

Abby had wanted to take it slow and to her credit, you guys had only been officially dating for two months. Taking that into consideration with classes, part-time jobs and other college related things that meant you were both busy, it was understandable that she wanted to take it slow when you guys were able to see each other.

She was a gentleman, making sure to take you out on proper dates first — not just somewhere quick and then have her hand up your skirt on the car ride home but actual restaurants with recommended dishes and signature wines that just confused you. She’d kissed you properly for the first time in her apartment on date number three, a movie forgotten about in the background but even then, she’d wanted to keep the pacing of your relationship slow.

But when you did start to get hot and heavy? God, it was good. So blindsightingly good you didn’t notice that every time it seemed to always focus on you.

Climb on her lap? She readjusts you so you’re straddling her thigh instead and you’re so lost to the pleasure of your clit dragging against your panties and the hard muscle of her leg to pick up on it.

Your hand snakes down to try and touch her pussy? She’s got your wrists pinned above your head in one hand, your nipples caught between her teeth and her other hand rubbing fast circles against your clit before you know it.

It doesn’t help that by the time you’re both in those situations, it’s late and when Abby finally decides she’s pulled enough orgasms out of you — slick coating your thighs, sticky against your cunt, her chin shiny from where she’d used her mouth on you and fingers still smelling of you even after she’s sucked them clean obscenely in front of you — you’re too exhausted to even think about cleaning up, never mind returning the favor.

Which fucking sucks cause when you do realise you can’t help but pout at how many opportunities you’ve been robbed of seeing her eyes roll to the back of her head, to see what her pussy looks like as it quivers.

You were no stranger to pussy, it’s not like you wouldn’t know what to do. In fact you were proud to say you were very much a giver in that you could spend all day between a girls thighs much like Abby has done for you previously.

You’ve dated other girls before that maybe weren’t as keen on reciprocating and, given the circumstances, you assume at first that maybe that’s what Abby thinks about you. You had just rolled over and gone straight to sleep (albeit after making her spoon you and wrapping her big, strong arms around you beforehand so you’d feel safe in your fucked out state) so it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that she had assumed you were a pillow princess.

Respectfully to all pillow princesses, that misconception simply will not do.

So you try and subtly make it clear that you are very much interested in being a munch the next time Abby has you pressed into her sofa at her campus apartment, fingers buried knuckle deep inside your pussy, so wet you can hear every movement as she fucks you harshly. Abby’s got her mouth on your neck, sucking dark marks at your collarbones that make you whimper and keen before soothing them with her tongue and soft kisses as her thumb strums over your clit.

“So fucking pretty, baby, look at you swallowing my fingers so easily… Greedy little hole’s sucking me in” The blonde hisses against your skin, having to use her other hand that was groping your tits roughly to keep your thighs open. They’re shaking, threatening to slam shut even with Abby lying between them and you whimper as you feel her fingers digging into the soft flesh.

Last time she left the prettiest bruises there, you’d spent days pressing your own touch to them just to feel the ache, an embarrassing wave of sadness coming over you when they started to fade. So maybe you purposely don’t hold back from letting your thighs twitch and writhe so she’s forced to hold you tighter, just so you’re maybe gifted with another reminder of her touch.

“Please, please… Let me, I wanna…” It’s unclear what you’re begging for, to cum or to touch her. You’re so close but not quite lost to the delirium Abby brings by orgasm number three so you take advantage of that, shaky hand coming out to grip at the butch woman’s jeans but faltering, instead clutching at whatever you can grab when her fingers start pounding at that gummy spot deep inside only she seems able to find as your vision starts to white out.

You can feel yourself clenching around her fingers, the sound of your weeping pussy obscene as she continues her relentless finger fucking. “Shit, baby, you’re so.. Fucking.. Tight” she grits the words out, chuckling when she looks at you beneath her with your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your back arching off the couch and your head thrown back so far. “You coming? Gonna make a mess on the leather for me? C’mon, lets see how messy this pretty pussy can get for me, yeah?”

It doesn’t take long after that, pussy squirting all over Abby’s hand and dripping down your ass to the leather couch like Abby predicted, but even then she doesn’t let up with her relentless torture of your clit and hole. You try to grab at her jeans again, trying to unbutton them but she shakes her head, eyes wide for a split second before she’s making soft coaxing noises, your hands pinned above your head again. “All about you, baby” Is all she murmurs against your skin, before she makes sure to send you over the edge again and again, effectively cutting off any urgency in completing your task.

The next time you try and focus on Abby, try to make it clear you want to reciprocate is when the two of you are watching a movie at her apartment, your body lazily thrown over her and your head resting in the crook of her neck and your arms tossed around her.

Slowly your attention drifts from the screen, bored by some adaptation of a historical-fiction book Abby read but you’ve never heard of. Your lips slowly trail down her neck, featherlight kisses pressed to her collarbones as one of your arms drops and begins to drift below the blanket she’d pulled out to keep you both warm.

Abby’s attention is still on the film, still pointing out changes they made from the book to the movie but you know the moment she realises where your hand has gone. You feel her reaction more than see it, how her breath catches and her body stiffens. Your hand immediately stops tracing her crotch, teasing line drug along her slit over the fabric of her basketball shorts.

“Sorry, I didn’t— I shouldn’t..” You pull your hand away quickly, your apology rushed and face hot from embarrassment.

“We should, um.. We should focus on the film, yeah?” Abby says after some consideration, and you just wanna hide in embarrassment and shame because she clearly didn’t like that.

You miss how she clenches her thighs together, mistake her heart racing for being out of panic and try to ignore the failed attempt at seducing your girlfriend when she has you bent over the sofa a few hours later on her strap in the low light of her living room, cooing in your ear about how pretty you look dripping down her cock.

Maybe you come to the conclusion Abby might be a stone butch, a touch-me-not, whatever the hell you wanna call it. Because she seems to shy away with every advance you make to try and reciprocate.

You get it if that is the case but can’t help but feel like that should have been mentioned, communicated in some way so you didn’t feel so… Weird about it. Sue me, you think, is it so wrong to want to touch your girlfriend? Your incredibly attractive girlfriend? No, surely not.

You wouldn’t exactly say it’s a deal breaker, you like Abby a lot. Even in the little amount of time you both have been together already, she’s amazing and not just physically — although that is certainly a perk.

She’s thoughtful, caring, she makes sure to check in with everyone (seemingly knowing everyone on campus). She always sends a good morning and a good night text, even when she’s deep in her study sessions or writing papers. She makes sure all your dates are ‘real’ ones, even if it’s just going to her apartment to make dinner cause she wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like you were being used for your body. Hell, she even made sure to let you know where the spare key to her apartment was kept so you could let yourself in after that time you got caught in the rain outside waiting for her.

Which leads to now; Enter you, spare key in hand after sending a rushed text to Abby saying you were coming over to talk when you realised you couldn’t go any further without discussing boundaries.

You should have realised something had thrown a wrench in your plan the second you stepped foot in Abby’s apartment really, the small space weirdly quiet and steam slowly rolling out of her bathroom. Distantly, you can hear the low murmur of music coming from her bedroom, the door slightly ajar.

You’re calling Abby’s name as you push through the door, not bothering to knock as you assume she’s read your text. It’s only when you process what’s in front of you that you come to the realisation that you seem to do an awful lot of assuming — and you know what they say, to assume is to make an ass out of you and me.

Because Abby clearly didn’t read your text, not based on the horrified look on her face when you walk in on her stark naked on her bed. Her skin is flushed, still damp from the shower she’d clearly just taken and her hair dripping big, fat water droplets onto her chest. Her muscled thighs are spread open, heels digging into the mattress as her fingers remain still stuffed deep inside her dripping hole. Her bush is wild and untamed, a light brown that curls through her fingers as her other hand spreads her lips wide open

There’s a voice in the back of your head, a really unnecessary one that points out that it seems like Abby does like being touched after all, but maybe just not by you.

But the best part of the sight — or the worse part, taking Abby’s look of utter shock into consideration — is her pussy, just as a whole. Her enlarged clit, erect and pulsating as it seems to stand to attention. Her pussy as a whole is big, the kind of big that makes your mouth begin to salivate, embarrassingly, as you think playing with it.

It makes you realise you’d never actually seen her pussy before, that every time the two of you fucked she was either fully clothed or had her strap on over her boxers. How cruel of her to hide that perfect pussy away.

“I… I texted” You say weakly after a few moments of silence, stood in a half step in the door way.

Abby doesn’t move, and you don’t know what else to say as you spiral, murmuring apologies and rushing back out the door before Abby is able to process what just happened.

Communicating isn’t going so well, more so after you accidentally walked in on Abby’s post-shower masturbation session. She’s avoided pretty much all your texts asking to talk and even gone as far as changing her routine to avoid running into you.

It kind of leaves you in a weird limbo where you’re not quite sure where you went wrong. There’s definitely areas you could have improved on (i.e. actually communicating about boundaries from the start so all this assuming bullshit didn’t happen) but you texted, you said you were coming by. Maybe you could have shouted a hello when you first entered the apartment but the last time Abby was in when you did she said you didn’t have to.

You’re also just incredibly unaware as to what the state of your relationship even is anymore? Is Abby still your girlfriend? Does she only like to touch herself and not be touched by others? It’s frustrating, yes, but you can’t help but feel like you owe Abby the time to digest what happened.

After all, it was her that got walked in on in her own home, completely naked and knuckle deep inside of herself. You can cut the blonde a break.

Doesn’t stop you from salivating at the memory of how beautiful and fucked out she looked that split second before she realised she’d been caught, face contorted in pleasure and juices spilling down past her knuckles.

After a dozen texts to Abby, ranging from apologies to simple messages telling her you missed her and you would wait until she was ready to talk, it’s a week later you finally get a response. It’s simple, to the point and very Abby.

[ Abs ] : You can come to my apartment for dinner, we should talk.

A terrifying text to receive, given the circumstances. The ‘you can come for dinner’ aspect giving you a sense of security, it makes you feel like everythings fine but the ‘we should talk’ part? That’s sending ‘break up talk’ alarm bells ringing through your head.

You text back nervously, asking what time and if you should bring anything. You end up outside her apartment door, pointedly ignoring the space where her spare key is hidden like it might burn, with a bottle of wine in hand as you wait for her to answer.

When she does, there’s a tension between the two of you the moment your eyes meet and — thank god — it’s not a bad kind. It’s like suddenly you’ve both had the air knocked out of you, like you hadn’t realised you’d been missing a piece of yourselves until you saw what was missing right in front of you. Two months you’ve been together, god Lesbians were stereotypically quick to get attached.

You can see how Abby’s eyes soften, warm when she sees you and she has to steady both her hands on the door frame as she welcomes you inside.

“Dinner might be a while,” She says, uncharacteristically timid seeming, her hand drifting to your lower back as she guides you into the apartment. “Sorry, took a little while longer than I thought but, um… We can sit on the sofa? Maybe, uh, if you want we could talk now? Get it out of the way?”

Get it out of the way?

You place the bottle of wine on the coffee table, heart racing as you consider what Abby might be about to say. God, is she about to break up with you? No, she couldn’t be… She’s made dinner, it would be epicly cruel to break up with you and then expect you to stay for whatever homemade pasta dish she’s made.

“I’m sorry!” The words spill from your mouth at a rapid speed, not even bothering to stop to give her a chance to cut in — her brows shot high and eyes wide as you ramble. “I-I texted and I thought that was enough but clearly I didn’t think that through, and I totally should have shouted to let you even know I had arrived in the apartment but I just didn’t think. But.. You.. I.. I froze when I saw, I mean how could I not but I thought you didn’t like that, and I guess that’s my own fault cause I never asked what you do and don’t like — we kinda forgot to have that talk a-and—”

“Woah, woah, Y/N, slow—” Abby tries to cut in, hands coming to your arms to try and stop them from moving around wildly as you talk. “What are you talking about, c’mon, slow down.”

“It’s my own fault, I didn’t notice for way too long and when I finally did, I realised you probably thought I was just a pillow princess so I kept trying to subtly show my interest but you— a-and then you kept pushing me away or turning it back on me so I just figured you didn’t like being touched, stone butch or whatever but then i-in your bed… you… you were touching yourself a-and—”

You only stop, words cutting off suddenly, when Abby takes your face in her hands and forces you to look at her.

“Y/N. Baby, stop. I need you to breathe, calm down for a sec’ okay?” Her words are spoken so softly, the care dripping off each word as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear gently. “Can you do that for me, slow down and take a breath?”

You nod slowly, watching her reverently. Abby’s tongue darts out to wet her lips as she watches you, taking a deep breath of her own. “I should have talked to you sooner, I’m sorry I just… got caught in my own head. Maybe none of this would have happened if I’d of done that, but if you still want… If you’re still wanting us I’d like to talk now, if that’s okay?” She sounds nervous as she speaks, the words almost practiced. You nod, giving her the time to speak and watching as her hands drop from your face to twiddle nervously on her lap.

“I… It’s not that I don’t like to be touched, I want— I really want that, but I… I haven’t had the greatest experiences in the past when it came to… Other people and what they thought of my body” Your heart aches as Abby speaks, her blue eyes cast down to where her hands lay nervously on her lap and her voice going soft.

“I just… Got used to hiding my body, you know and I didn’t even realise I was doing it until you… You remember that night we were watching the City of Thieves film and you—” She didn’t need to go any further, your face brightening in shame as you recall the awkward rejection. “I just didn’t know how to… broach the subject, y’know, and it’s not like I really thought you’d be judgemental and mean about my body but it’s just built up after so many negative reactions”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as you stare at your girlfriend. “Why would I judge you? I know you’re big, I know you’re muscle-y, why would I be mean about that?” You ask in genuine confusion, causing Abby to freeze and look at you equally as confused.

After a beat, she speaks slowly. “You… You think that I was talking… about my body-body?” After a beat, you nod just as slowly. “I was talking about my pussy” She finishes after a long space of silence, blunt and to the point.

Your head cocks to the side, confusion still clear in your expression as you process what she’s saying. What the fuck is so wrong about her pussy? You didn’t see anything wrong with it in that small (but well committed to memory) glimpse you’d had of it. “I don’t?—”

“Shit, you don’t… You really don’t see a problem, do you?” She sounds like she’s in awe, like your total lack of an issue around her genitals is something groundbreaking which makes a simmering bit of rage begin to boil inside of you because who in their damn right mind made the beautiful, the amazing Abby fucking Anderson so insecure in her body she couldn’t even show her girlfriend what she looked like?!

“Shit, okay, uh… I mean, you know — you saw — it’s big. Fatter than the norm’ I guess. It’s a mutation, congenital… I just.. I guess a lot of people I’ve been with have found it weird, ugly a-and they didn’t really wanna.. return the favor or do anything I guess.”

Yep, definitely rage you feel below the surface. The idea that Abby has been dealing with this because of people that were supposed to care for her speaking so badly about her body, for their reactions to something she cannot control makes you clench your fists. But you force yourself to relax, fingers stretching out on your thighs as you try to remain cool.

“Like I said, I didn’t really realise I was doing it until you started to, y’know… And I don't know, I couldn’t stop myself from panicking that it was gonna be the same reaction all over again. I just.. I couldn’t handle seeing that look of… of disgust on your face, not… you.”

Your delicate hands reach out to capture hers, stopping her from picking at the skin around her thumbs nervously as she speaks, to get her attention. “Abby, I.. I know other people have reacted that way but I would never—”

Her cheeks tinge red, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth and a small smirk etching its way onto her face. “I know, Y/N”

“You— You do?”

She nods, looking up to meet your eyes. “Yeah, I know. I, uh.. I figured that out.”

Your face pulls together again in confusion and slight annoyance, if she knew that then why did you spend the last week getting ghosted?! “What do you mean?”

“You have this look that comes over your face whenever you get turned on… Normally see it whenever I’m getting you off but, uh… That day, when you walked in on me? You had it when you were looking at me”

Your mouth drops open, breathless as you take that in. It’s no surprise though, you had been incredibly turned on at the sight, even thinking about it now has a wet spot forming in your panties at just the thought of Abby’s legs spread to unveil that beautiful cunt.

Shaking off the haze of lust, you focus on Abby. “So… Why did you, I mean I was happy to wait as long as you needed — I mean, again, I walked in on you a-and you needed to process that shock — but… why did you wait so long to talk?”

She heaves out a slow sigh, scratching at the back of her neck. “It was just weird, this bizarre 180 I was experiencing where this thing about me and my body that was always… weird for others and that I was kind of, y’know, expecting to be weird for you was suddenly attractive. That made you get that fucked out, horny expression on your face and I… I couldn’t believe it.”

“And now?”

“I mean… I believe it”

At that, your hand comes out to lightly smack at her arm, the both of you falling into light rumbles of laughter. Your hand lingers on Abby’s arm, dropping after a moment too long.

“Asshole,” softly you shake your head, a smile forming on your lips as you dip her head down. “I meant and now what? I mean, I take it this isn’t you breaking up with me like I was worried about?”

Her eyes widen in slight horror, like she hadn’t considered all of the nightmare scenarios that had been swarming in your mind over the last week. “N-No, no, absolutely not. Shit, you didn’t think— God, okay. No, no breakup was ever considered for the record”

That definitely eases the weeks worth of tension that had built up.

You bite your lip, leaning forward into Abby’s space slightly. After a moment of silence, your needy eyes lift to meet Abby’s “Can we just skip to the part where we kiss and make-up?”

The other girl barely gets her own eager nod out before you’re clambering onto her lap, hands in her hair as you kiss her hard and messily. Your tongue licks into her mouth aggressively, small noises falling from the two of you as your hips rocks against hers. You missed this, missed how Abby tasted, how her tongue felt against yours as she explored your mouth just as thoroughly.

“I missed— missed you… so.. much” Heavy pants bracket each and every word, only broken by Abby pulling your lips back to hers as she devours you whole. She only pulls back with a high-keening hiss when you roll your hips in a certain way against her that makes her clit throb in her boxers. “Fuck, baby, careful” She sounds so pretty when she whines, her lip bitten as her head rolls back against the back sofa cushions.

Her head rolls to the side, looking at the kitchen before she swallows thickly, looking back at you. Her large hands move down to your hips, tapping the hip bones to get you to stand up.

“Gonna save the food before we forget and burn the apartment down, you… Get in the bedroom” The way she breathes the words out, like she’s as affected as you are makes your head spin and you’re quick to scramble off her lap and into her bedroom.

Abby’s on you quicker than you realise, shoes barely kicked off before she’s at your back and kissing down the column of your neck with her hands running up and down your sides. Turning to face her, you drag her down into a punishing kiss until you feel her bed hit the back of your knees. You don’t fall back though, turning the two of you so Abby now has her back to the bed.

You’re panting when you break the kiss, wetting your lips despite the messy kiss as you look up at Abby through thick lashes with deep arousal. She looks equally as fucked, hair messy from where your fingers have gone through it as you both made out and her blue eyes dark with need. “Get on the bed for me, Abs. Like… Like you were that day” You sound fucked out already, thinking back to when you caught her touching herself like a wanton whore. You see the moment it registers in Abby’s mind what you’re asking her to do, a single raised eyebrow as she breathes heavily.

Slowly she strips her clothes, kicking her own shoes off. You spend equal time helping her discard her clothes as you do standing back and admiring her form, salivating as her tits spring free of her sports bra. She’s just got her boxers left when she crawls onto the bed, laying back against the headboard before lifting her hips and pulling them free.

She pulls them past her ankles and throws them on the floor, landing with a soft noise by your feet. Not that you notice, no, you’re too focused on Abby. Lay back on the bed, completely bare with only her knees propped up straight and infront of her to cover that pretty pussy of hers.

Your eyes are dark, hungry as you stare ahead, right where you know her crotch is covered by her legs. “Abby, that’s not how you were lay when I caught you” The words are low, almost rough as you wait, watching.

Her long hair, free from the braid she always wears, cascading messily down her shoulders is pushed behind her nervously before she slowly spreads her thighs and finally mirrors the position you’d caught her in a week ago.

Her heels aren’t quite digging into the mattress with need the way they were that day, but Abby isn’t nearly as worked over as she was then either. Still, you move forward hungrily, almost drawn to her like a magnet with your palms spread on the mattress to catch yourself as you instinctively move to get closer to her glistening slit. You look like a predator, crawling up from the foot of the bed and settling between her thighs, eyeing her pussy like prey.

She’s wet, so fucking wet you know your fingers would glide with ease through her folds. It makes you dizzy with lust, watching how her large clit throbs as you stare it down.

“Fuck, what… What now?” Abby whines, voice soft and breathy.

“Show me what you were doing before I walked in” Your voice is low, rough and your eyes don’t lift once from her drenched core.

You can hear the needy whines from Abby, her soft little moans that make you want to bite and kiss at her skin but she does as she’s told. Her hands come down to her pussy, one hand spreading her lips wide to show you everything while her other eases in with slow circles against her clit.

Not that she needs warming up, not with how quick she is to react to the barely there circular motions she does. “C’mon baby, you can do more. What did you do with this pretty pussy after that?”

Bottom lip drawn between her teeth, Abby can’t help but watch your darkened gaze as she drags two of her thick fingers through her slick, coating them with her juices before working them inside her hole.

Instinctively you lean in closer, inhaling her scent as you watch her twitching hole stretch to take her digits. Each time she fucks her fingers into herself, slowly and so fucking erotically, you watch as her hips lift slightly to meet her fingers, clit bumping against her palm and leaving a messy trail behind.

“So fucking gorgeous, look so pretty stretched around your fingers” You barely register your own voice, that you’ve said anything as you practically drool at the sight. No, wait, you’re actually drooling. Okay, between that and the obscene sounds of Abby fucking herself you can’t stop yourself, deciding you’d waited long enough to give.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from teasing before you stop her as you begin by kissing up her ankles. Your lips make sure to suck the occasional hickey the closer you get to her inner thighs, laughing low and wickedly when you hear her whine so pretty and the muscles of her thighs quiver. By the time you make your way close to where she wants you — and more importantly, where you have been wanting to be all this time — you have to take a moment to just… stare.

Take it in.

Fucking beautiful.

Licking a stripe up her pussy, slow flat tongue against her before sucking her fat clit into your mouth and laughing as she keens, hips lifting off the mattress before moaning at the taste of her. Above you, Abby’s head eventually falls back against the headboard with a soft thud as she makes a low, whining noise.

That’s when you start eating her out like a woman starved, messy and unashamed as you go to town. Licking her long and rough, spit falling from your mouth as you suck her clit into your mouth and lay one of your hands flat against her abdomen to keep her from lifting off the bed. She melts like honey on your tongue, the sheets beneath her messy with a mixture of her arousal and your saliva as it drips both down her ass and off your chin.

You’re eating her out half with the desire to bring her over the edge, to show her what all her other partners should have been giving her this entire time, and another part of you wants to just lap at her pussy with no regards. Hungry for the taste of her juices on your lips, to swirl your tongue around her protruding bud like you’re lazily licking an ice cream cone.

Her hands are in your hair, torn between yanking you off her when you suck harshly on her fat clit, laughing as she whines and whimpers, or pressing your face against her cunt to keep you fixed in one spot when you start to go rogue

“Oh.. Oh god, yes!” She’s a mess, completely gone beneath you when you finally decide to focus on getting her off. She’s soaked, dripping down your hand when you do touch her, and flooding your mouth with her arousal so much that when you grow desperate — yanking her up and throwing her on her hands and knees, eating her out from behind — you can’t stop the way her arousal drips onto the sheets beneath. She’s too damn wet for your mouth to capture all of it and the thought makes you feel feral.

“C’mon, Abs, I wanna feel you cum on my tongue okay? Wanna feel that pretty clit throbbing in my mouth”

You’ve got your hands at the junction where her thighs and her ass meet, spreading the skin so you have the max amount of access as you bring her over the edge, Abby’s neighbours no doubt able to hear her reaching her apex with her wailing. You move one of your hands down as you focus your mouth on her clit, fingers pushing inside of Abby’s warm heat again and sighing against her slick as her hole sucks them in greedily.

It doesn’t take long until Abby goes rigid, screaming and babbling that she’s coming with her head thrown back as you continue your ministrations, working her through her orgasm happily.

“Fuck, you coming from my fingers or my mouth, Abs?” You tease against her pussy as she gushes down your wrist practically, lapping her juices up with your tongue and feeling it drip down your chin.

Her strong fingers thread through your hair and practically have to rip you off of her once overstimulation sets in, toned thighs twitching, desperate to slam shut and hide her pussy away from you. You let her pull you off, licking your lips with a wicked grin as you hover over her.

She’s redfaced, skin glistening with sweat and she looks completely fucked out. It’s a good look on her.

“What’s the verdict?” You ask with a teasing lilt, watching as she huffs out a laugh with her chest rising and falling rapidly still.

“Uh… Might let you do it again” She tries to play it casual but you swat at her chest lightly and she quickly falls into laughter. “Fine! I loved it, 10/10, I’ll write a damn Yelp review if you want me to”

“Who the hell even uses Yelp anymore, damn how old are you” You tease, caressing her cheek. “Promise me you’ll let me do that more? No more hiding” Your voice is tender as you speak, eyes warm as you look down at her. Abby’s breath catches in her throat at the softness, the love she can feel and she nods up at you. “I promise. No more hiding away.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby anderson imagines #abby anderson #.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚. writing: mine

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milkmemes · 3 months ago

Text

ANGST LEVELS

Below are a series of sentence starters and actions that vary in levels of angst. Level one being the least angsty, all the way to level five being the most. (TW: Abuse, Violence, Blood)

Level One Sentence Starters ❛ I'm just disappointed. ❜ ❛I'm scared. ❜ ❛Please just trust me. ❜ ❛Why don't you trust me? ❜ ❛What do you mean by that? ❜ ❛...But you never had a problem with it before. ❜ ❛I shouldn't be here. ❜ ❛You shouldn't be here. ❜ ❛Why are you so stubborn? ❜ ❛Just look at me. ❜ ❛How long does this have to go on for? ❜ ❛I can't sleep. ❜ ❛I hate seeing you like this ❜ ❛Just hang on, okay? ❜ ❛It's okay to cry ❜ ❛I wanted to apologize. ❜ ❛Not everyone is going to hurt you. ❜ ❛Please don't misunderstand. ❜ ❛Have you been crying? ❜ ❛Tears? Seriously? ❜ ❛You're crying? How pathetic are you? ❜ ❛It's okay. Go ahead and cry, I'm right here. ❜ ❛You didn't have to be so rude about it ... ❜ ❛Stay away from me! ❜ ❛Why would you go back to her? ❜ ❛Why would you go back to him? ❜ ❛Why would you go back to them? ❜ ❛ Are you even listening to me?❜ ❛Stop acting like it's not a big deal, you're bleeding! ❜ ❛You never take me seriously! ❜ ❛I don't like you because you always do shit like this! ❜ ❛I'm just trying to help you! ❜ ❛Let me clean your wounds ... ❜ ❛It's late, why are you calling?❜ ❛How many times have I told you not to go there?❜ ❛Are you sure you're okay? ❜ ❛Liar! ❜ ❛ You think you know me? You don’t know anything. ❜ ❛ Why didn’t you fight for me? Why didn’t you fight for us? ❜ ❛ You were always the golden child. But you know what? I was the one who needed you. ❜ ❛ You never saw me. Not really. ❜

Level One Actions [APOLOGIZE] - Sender apologizes to receiver before passing out. [STAGGER] - Sender starts to stagger while they walk with receiver and eventually starts to fall. [SHIVER] - Receiver notices Sender won't stop shivering, even though it isn't cold outside. [OUCH] - Receiver notices Sender subtly wince whenever they accidentally touch them somewhere. [PANIC] - Receiver begins to have a severe panic attack. [FEVER] - Sender is visibly feverish, sweating buckets and still denying to Receiver that they are sick and need to rest. [WAITING] – Receiver waits all night for Sender to show. They never do. [NUMBERS] – Receiver notices Sender has been crossing out calendar dates with shaky hands—and something big is circled. [GOODBYE KISS] – Sender kisses Receiver like it’s the last time. Receiver doesn’t realize it is. [STUMBLE] – Sender keeps messing up small things—dropping keys, forgetting names—and it’s starting to scare Receiver. [WORN] – Receiver still wears the hoodie Sender left behind. They pretend it doesn’t mean anything. [ALMOST KISS] – They get so close to kissing—but flinch back, remembering who they’re supposed to be. [ONE LAST TIME] – Sender kisses Receiver mid-fight and says, “Just this once. Then we go back to being enemies.”

Level Two Sentence Starters

❛Were you planning that the whole time? ❜ ❛No, you listen to me. ❜ ❛You think this is easy for me? ❜ ❛Haven't you done enough already? ❜ ❛Truth hurts, doesn't it? ❜ ❛Please don't do this. ❜ ❛I know you're scared. ❜ ❛You deserve more. ❜ ❛I swear I'll do things different this time. ❜ ❛I'm ... I'm trying, I really am. ❜ ❛I said I'm not jealous. ❜ ❛I see the way you look at him. ❜ ❛I see the way you look at her. ❜ ❛I see the way you look at them. ❜ ❛I don't know what you're talking about. ❜ ❛You're overreacting. ❜ ❛You're making a big deal out of nothing. ❜ ❛What the hell was that about?! ❜ ❛What the hell is your problem?! ❜ ❛No way you're actually jealous. ❜ ❛All you do is whine. ❜ ❛I can't do this anymore. Not with you. ❜ ❛Have you been drinking? You look awful. ❜ ❛Where did all those bruises come from? ❜ ❛[Name], they don't care about you! ❜ ❛[Name], he doesn't care about you! ❜ ❛[Name], she doesn't care about you! ❜ ❛I'd rather it be you. ❜ ❛You didn't miss me at all? ❜ ❛All these years and you decided to break my heart now? ❜ ❛Please just stay with me, just for a moment. ❜ ❛Just admit that you're wrong! ❜ ❛Don't compare yourself to me! ❜ ❛That kiss ... did you really mean it? ❜ ❛I can't ever trust you again. ❜ ❛Say you never loved me. Say it! ❜ ❛Did this mean nothing to you? ...Did I mean nothing to you? ❜ ❛Please tell me that at least a part of this was real to you. ❜ ❛I should've listened when people warned me about you. ❜ ❛I know what you did. ❜ ❛Don't. Move. ❜ ❛When I let go, run for your life. ❜ ❛ You’re not even my sibling anymore. ❜ ❛ You’re not even my sister anymore. ❜ ❛ You’re not even my brother anymore. ❜ ❛ I’m not the one who left first. You did. ❜ ❛ I never asked you to be perfect. I just wanted you to show up. ❜ ❛ It’s too late for apologies now. You left me to deal with everything on my own. ❜ ❛ I don’t care if you’re my sibling—you hurt me. ❜ ❛ I don’t care if you’re my sister—you hurt me. ❜ ❛ I don’t care if you’re my brother—you hurt me. ❜ ❛ You can’t just break my heart and expect me to keep forgiving you. ❜ ❛ Maybe I should’ve let you go the first time you hurt me. ❜ ❛ I kept waiting for you to come back, but you never did. And now I can’t wait anymore. ❜ ❛ You were never there when I needed you. Why should I be there for you now? ❜ ❛ I never wanted to hate you… but you made it impossible not to. ❜

Level Two Actions [BETRAYAL] - Receiver learns about Sender's betrayal and confronts them with it. [SLEEP] - Receiver is traumatized by the idea of sleeping with the lights off but won't be honest about this to Sender. [ARGUE] - Sender and Receiver get into a heated argument about something. [BREAKDOWN] - Receiver has a mental breakdown in front of Sender. [FORGOT] - Sender forgot Receiver's name/everything about Receiver. [ABANDON] - Receiver abandons Sender. [REPLACE] – Receiver starts seeing someone new. Sender smiles and says they're happy for them. [FUMBLE] – Receiver goes to hold Sender’s hand, but Sender pulls away like it’s instinct. [MISFIRE] – Sender says “I love you” mid-conversation, but Receiver thinks they’re joking—and laughs. [EAVESDROP] – Sender overhears something they were never meant to hear—and it changes everything.

Level Three Sentence Starters

❛ I never asked for this. You pushed me into it, and now it’s too late. ❜ ❛I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did. ❜ ❛I know you still love me. ❜ ❛You know I'm not like that. ❜ ❛Don't give me space, that's the last thing I want with you. ❜ ❛I can't think straight with you. ❜ ❛Do you ever mean the things you say? ❜ ❛I hope she makes you happy. ❜ ❛I hope he makes you happy. ❜ ❛I hope they make you happy. ❜ ❛Don't do this here. ❜ ❛Is he really just a friend? ❜ ❛Is she really just a friend? ❜ ❛Are they really just a friend? ❜ ❛You can't hide forever! ❜ ❛I just want you to care about me... ❜ ❛Fuck off already! ❜ ❛You made me feel weak ❜ ❛I didn't mean to love you so much. ❜ ❛I wish I was sorry. ❜ ❛I wish I loved you. ❜ ❛You were the only person I thought I could trust. ❜ ❛You promised you wouldn't forget me. ❜ ❛You don't remember me? ❜ ❛If I see you again, I'll kill you. ❜ ❛You couldn't tell I was in love with you because you were too busy loving someone else. ❜ ❛You did such a great job convincing other people that you loved me that I almost fell for it. ❜ ❛ It was never going to be me, was it? ❜ ❛ I'm not angry. I'm just tired of hoping you’ll change. ❜ ❛ You never cared about me—just about winning. ❜ ❛ I’m not your second choice. I’m not your backup plan. ❜ ❛ I should’ve known you’d leave, just like everyone else. ❜ ❛ Do you even care about me anymore? Or was I just your second choice? ❜ ❛ You were supposed to protect me, not be the one I needed protection from. ❜ ❛ You always made me feel like I was in your shadow. Now you’ve disappeared into it, and I’m still here. ❜ ❛ Maybe I should’ve been a better sibling. But you should’ve been a better person. ❜ ❛ Maybe I should’ve been a better sister. But you should’ve been a better person. ❜ ❛ Maybe I should’ve been a better brother. But you should’ve been a better person. ❜

Level Three Actions [RETURNED] - Receiver hasn't seen Sender in months/years since they mysteriously disappeared and now they're suddenly at Receiver's doorstep, but they already recognize Sender. [INTRUDER] - Receiver realizes they aren't alone in their home when Sender accidentally reveals themselves. [BLOOD] - Sender comes home covered in blood and Receiver confronts them about it. [SLEEP TALK] - Sender talks in their sleep and Receiver usually doesn't mind but tonight they say something unsettling that Receiver can't let go. [DISMISS] – Sender tries to open up, but Receiver laughs, thinking it's a joke—and Sender shuts down completely. [DEADLINE] – Sender and Receiver make future plans—but Sender knows they won’t be around for them. [MISMATCHED] – They both say “I love you”—but one of them doesn’t mean it.

Level Four Sentence Starters

❛ You never once asked how I felt—only how I made you look. ❜ ❛ I never asked for you. ❜ ❛ You ruined my life the moment you came into it. ❜ ❛ Why do you always make me feel like I’m not enough? ❜ ❛ All I wanted was your love, but it feels like I’ll never be good enough for you. ❜ ❛ I’ve spent my whole life trying to earn your approval. I’m done. ❜ ❛ I wish I had never been born if it meant I’d never have to live up to your expectations.❜ ❛ You never loved me. You just wanted someone to control. ❜ ❛ I don’t care what you think of me anymore. You’ve already destroyed my worth. ❜ ❛You're the one that made this ugly. ❜ ❛Put the bat down! ❜ ❛Put the gun down! ❜ ❛No one will ever want you. ❜ ❛You'd be lucky to have a scar from me. ❜ ❛Nobody's coming to save you, give up. ❜ ❛I never loved you. ❜ ❛You're such a fucking burden. ❜ ❛God, you can't possibly be any worse. ❜ ❛Don't move, you're bleeding! ❜ ❛Are you bleeding?! ❜ ❛Don't apologize if you're just gonna keep doing this shit! ❜ ❛I know you don't really care about me, so thank you for trying to pretend that you do.❜ ❛Don't you dare die on me! ❜ ❛I can't lose you ... I can't lose you. ❜ ❛Don't close your eyes! ❜ ❛Please ... I don't want to lose you again ❜ ❛I'd much rather die by your side ... ❜ ❛Don't look at me like that ... a smile better suits you. Let me die seeing you smile. ❜ ❛If your smile is the last thing I see, I'll die happy. ❜ ❛I wish you were dead. ❜ ❛I wish you would fucking die already! ❜ ❛Was I a good friend ...? ❜ ❛Was I a good boyfriend ...? ❜ ❛Was I a good girlfriend ...? ❜ ❛Was I a good partner ...? ❜ ❛Am I finally a hero ...? ❜ ❛ Was I a good sister? Did I do everything right? ❜ ❛ Was I a good brother? Did I do everything right? ❜ ❛ Was I a good partner? Did I do everything right? ❜ ❛ You should’ve let me die back there. ❜ ❛ You only love me when it’s convenient. ❜ ❛ Please don’t make me choose between you and myself. ❜ ❛ I hate that I still want you. After everything you’ve done, I still want you. ❜ ❛ Why couldn’t you just love me the way I loved you? ❜ ❛ You don’t get to act like you’re the victim. Not after everything you’ve done. ❜

Level Four Actions [PROPOSAL] - Sender is about to propose when Receiver reveals they're already engaged. [SACRIFICE] - Sender sacrifices themselves for Receiver. [CURSE] - Every time Sender confesses their love to Receiver, Receiver instantly forgets everything about them. [POISON] - Sender poisons Receiver. [MISTAKE] – Receiver calls Sender by the wrong name during an intimate moment, and the entire atmosphere shifts. [ACCIDENT] – Receiver finds Sender lying unconscious, blood pooling, phone still unlocked with an unsent message: “I’m sorry.” [REGRET] – Receiver finds a letter they were never supposed to see. “I hated you because I couldn’t stop loving you.”

#rp memes #ask memes #sentence starters #suggestive meme #ask meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #angst memes #angst meme #angst rp meme #angst rp memes

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dokyumms · 4 months ago

Text

so cover your eyes, i have a surprise

pairings: bf!vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a lil angst

word count: 1.9k

cw: misunderstandings, mention of cheating, mildly suggestive at the end

a/n: another request done for 💌anon ! i feel like the king.... happy late bday to vernon and dokyeom? (it's literally march) creds to @issysh3ll for dividers

[14:08]

vernon was feeling sad, or disappointed, perhaps a mix of both.

it was already 2pm, and you hadn't mentioned his birthday at all.

to be fair, he never made a big deal about it anyway, so maybe he was at fault, but normally you went big about celebrations like this. whether it was him coming back from tour or your anniversary, you always treated him to something.

he wasn't greedy, right? it was his birthday after all... whatever, maybe you took his advice on not splurging on him.

but there's a voice in the back of his head, one that says you just don't care.

[14:45]

"what?! like not anything at all??" seungkwan nearly spits out his coffee when vernon explains his predicament, chan having to force a hand over his mouth and making him swallow before speaking.

chan, seungkwan, and him are all at a cafe after vernon texted their group chat "sos: cafe w the good americano"

sure, maybe 'sos' seems a bit much for this situation, but vernon was about to lose his mind.

"did you do something? maybe she's mad," chan suggests, swirling around his coffee with a mini plastic straw.

"well even if he did do something, which i don't think he has... i feel like at least a birthday text is mandatory? i mean from his own girlfriend" seungkwan says, quick to defend vernon, of course.

"you never know, she doesn't seem like the type to do this for no reason..."

"you've talked to her like maybe 3 times in your life-"

"okay, okay, just stop guys," vernon interrupts, "no, i haven't done anything, i think, but chan's right. she really wouldn't do this for no reason. there's no way she forgot- she was teasing my gift like a month ago," he says, recalling how she had randomly told him to be excited, flaunting her credit card around while he stared at her with a confused expression.

"has she been acting weird? or i don't know, distant?" seungkwan asks with a stern look. vernon's about to deny it, but then he thinks for a second.

the past three days he's asked to come over to your place for your weekly movie night, you've said no. not just a straight up no, you said you had work or something, he doesn't remember okay? but when he thinks about the situation a little more, he wonders if you were avoiding him.

"uh hyung? you good?" chan's waving a hand in his face.

"yeah, i just realized that she has been kinda distant lately, i guess" vernon explains, "but i don't know why? she's just been saying she has to work late and that type of stuff,"

seungkwan and chan both share a look before seungkwan says,

"you know that's something like- how do i say this- cheaters say?"

no one talks for the next minute or so. just complete silence.

"well i don't think he's saying that y/n's cheating," chan tries to relieve the situation, unable to read vernon's facial expression.

"no- don't- why would you say that?" vernon finally gets out in disbelief, all of the sudden looking the most frustrated he's ever been.

he doesn't say anything else, just getting up. "nonnie that's not what i-" and he's out the door.

honestly, he doesn't know why he left. they had a point, but maybe that was the problem, there was a chance they were right. why were you being so weird? it was his birthday, you hadn't texted him all day or come by to see him.

he takes off his beanie runs a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the sudden thought put into his mind.

[16:14]

"hmm, now that i think about it, she didn't say anything to me either!" seokmin says in realization.

it makes vernon somewhat relieved, knowing that he wasn't the only one who you'd avoided today. seokmin's closer to you than vernon's other friends, so it does seem weird that you wouldn't wish him a happy birthday.

vernon knows this isn't a good way to spend his birthday or seokmin's, sitting on his couch while trying to figure what the deal is about his girlfriend, and he honestly feels bad for dragging seokmin down with him, but you hadn't even replied to any of his texts. there has to be something wrong.

"you know who'd know?"

vernon shrugs but then comes up with someone right as seokmin is about to answer,

"jeonghan."

[16:55]

jeonghan doesn't look surprised to see them at his door.

"i was going to drop off your gifts later, but if you wanted them so badly, you could've just asked," he chuckles, ushering them in,

"hyung, that's not what we're here for," seokmin says as he takes off his shoes.

"so you don't want it?"

"wait, i didn't say that,"

vernon makes himself comfortable on the couch while jeonghan and seokmin bicker about the gifts for a little longer. he looks around the place before his eyes settle on some metal thing on the counter.

it's seungkwan's gua sha, and all of the sudden, he's remembering the conversation he had with him and chan earlier.

he's going to have to apologize sooner or later, but it would be worse if seungkwan was right. pulling out his phone, he looks through his messages with you from today, or more like with a wall. you hadn't responded to anything whatsoever.

finally, jeonghan and seokmin sit themselves on either side of vernon.

"okay, i know why you're actually here, seungkwan told me already." jeonghan starts, "he's not here right now because you seemed upset at him," vernon feels a pang of guilt go through him.

"you can't blame him for what he said. y/n hasn't been acting normal in the past few days and she forgets your birthday? i mean if you saw this happening to someone else what would you think?" ugh he was right, but vernon still looks at seokmin in hopes of him backing him up, except seokmin nods along.

"yeah, yeah, i get it, han. but you can't expect me to just accuse her of cheating without real proof."

"hansol, she hasn't even responded to any of your texts,"

"that still doesn't prove anything,"

"then let's go prove it," seokmin suddenly suggests. "let's go to her apartment and find out what she's up to." he gets up and walks straight to the door.

vernon sighs before getting up. he's scared, he has no excuse now. if he sees it, it's real, and that's been his fear this whole day. before he can walk away, jeonghan gets up and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"look, if anything happens, we'll all be here for you, okay?"

vernon nods and follows seokmin out the door.

[17:27]

vernon takes a deep breath and knocks on the door

knock, knock, knock

seokmin puts his ear up to it, listening for any noises like he's in some spy movie.

"someone's moving around in there actually maybe more than one," he comments, "they're getting closer," vernon holds his breath. 1, 2, 3- the door swings open, causing seokmin to nearly fall over since he'd been leaning against it.

"seokmin??" you ask loudly before looking up to meet vernon's eyes. he doesn't know what expression he's making, but he melts the instant he sees you.

"well, you both came earlier than i would've liked, but i guess i can't hide this forever," vernon swallows loudly, hide what? but you don't give him an answer, entering the apartment with seokmin following. when vernon hears him gasp audibly, he goes straight in.

he doesn't know what to expect, the sudden fear of seeing some guy he's never seen before spikes. but when he makes it through the door, it's nowhere near whatever he was thinking of.

the house is dimly lit, string lights hanging from the kitchen all the way to the living room. on the dining table, there's plates of food: pasta, pizza, fruit, you name it. in the living room, there's a blanket laid out on the floor with a couple of pillows with the tv in front of it turned onto netflix.

but more importantly, there are balloons floating, spelling out 'happy birthday 218 bros' and the whole of seventeen standing under it with one of them holding a cake.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" they all shout.

"holy shi-" is the only thing vernon gets out before him and seokmin are being surrounded by everyone. somehow, you manage to get ahold of him, giving him a tight hug, "i got you good, didn't i?" you say, smirking. he doesn't even argue against it, hugging you back tightly, "you scared me so bad, baby. i was going to have a heart attack,"

you laugh, "yeah, seungkwan and chan told me all about that," vernon looks around for the culprits. he sees them both looking straight at him with absolutely devious grins. "i can't believe that worked! we're such good actors!" they both high five each other.

"that's not fair! you literally accused my girlfriend of cheating and then made me feel bad about it!" vernon whines, still not letting go of you. "honestly, i would've thought the same thing as them if i was in this situation," you say, laughing again.

"when'd you get so evil? speaking of that, did jeonghan know too? he was still at his apartment when-" and as if on some very cliché cue, jeonghan walks in after being let in by joshua.

"i read you two so well! i knew you'd come to me," jeonghan boasts before mingyu argues, "didn't i suggest that?" and then more chaos commences.

[23:04]

after you finally usher a drunk hoshi and jun out of your apartment, you walk over to vernon. he's standing behind you, previously waving his goodbyes to the members, but now he's just in pure disbelief.

he can't believe he just got pranked by not only his girlfriend, but by his members, together. he swore you were never that close with them.

"happy birthday, babe," you tell him, giving him a kiss. "sorry for not texting you today, minghao suggested it," well, that makes some sort of sense.

"was this why you said no to movie night three days in a row?" vernon asks, wrapping his arms around you tightly, trapping you. "look, these lights took forever to hang up. i had to ask wonwoo and seungcheol to help me," you explain, looking up at the small bulbs of light.

"was it worth it?"

"hm?" you hum

"absolutely torturing me! i seriously thought you were cheating, but now that you're here, it's time to get my payback," he says, before taking his hands to your sides and tickling you. you laugh loudly as he tackles you on the couch.

[00:32]

now, you and vernon are in bed, somehow still awake, cuddling while he talks about his 'stressful' day as you explain how you planned it all.

"really? i can't believe i fell for that still," he mumbles, amazed by how elaborate your plan was.

"oh wait, i got you a gift," you say, sitting up. "what? y/n, seriously this was already way too much," he interrupts you, hugging you from behind.

"just let me go get it," you try, but his hold is too strong. "give it to me later, you've left me enough," he whines, making you roll your eyes, but you comply, relaxing in his arms.

"i didn't mean to scare you that much today, that's my bad." you apologize for what seems to be the hundredth time.

"stop apologizing," he says, turning you over to face him, "how about you make it up to me?"

"how so?" you reply. fingers already toying with his shirt before he just pulls it off. he doesn't answer, just looking at you for a moment before pulling you in for a hungry kiss that you both know will turn into a long night.

#vernon #vernon fanfic #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #seventeen #svt #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #dokyumms

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hufflezki · 14 days ago

Text

summary: peter has been paying you visits as spiderman, doing and saying things he usually wouldn't when he's off the mask—like attempting to flirt with you. unfortunately, you find out who really is under his disguise.

-> mcu!peter parker x gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mixed povs, peter is just a sweetheart, sudden confessions, good old misunderstanding (oh boy), peter rambles a lot, implications of reader liking plants, ( this is very self indulgent </3 so im sorry if he's a little ooc ) word count: 2,148 ( yes, its really long, ik )

[ 🎧 ] — (also had this song in mind while writing, so I'll just share it.) head over heels by the go-go's

The sun is rising. Your cup is empty. School works are done. It's a Friday, and you don’t have any classes. Which means you finally have time to relax on your balcony. You prop your elbow down on the railing, thinking of things to do now that you’ve been given a free day.

You can read that book you’ve been meaning to finish a month ago—or has it been two? Then again, you also have that unfinished crochet project you decided to do. But the problem is you forgot if you ever saved the pattern for it. Then there’s also the elephant in the room, the thing that haunts you every time you step inside your apartment. The vase your last roommate left. You’ve been meaning to give it back to her—you promised. But things got busier ever since. The last time you had free time was probably earlier this year, and yet you were still working on your thesis.

You turn your head, staring at the vase. It's ironic how much it grew on you. You thought it didn’t fit the color scheme of your living room at first. But the more you saw it, the more it seemed to fit right in. Until, eventually, you decided that you like it. And, yes, maybe that’s part of the reason why you can’t bring yourself to return it. Your last roommate also never mentioned it again after. So, you assume she just forgot about it entirely. Hopefully.

Your train of thoughts are interrupted when you hear movements, mostly the sound of something—or rather someone—webbing around. You turn your head back in front of you, then to your left, and your right, until– “Good morning.” A familiar voice comes from behind you, making you yelp from surprise. “Fuck, You can’t just sneak up on people like that!” Normally, when you get approached by the Spider-man, in all his red and blue spandex glory, you don’t really greet him with a yell and proceed to curse him out. But, in your defense, who even gets visited by him this early in the morning? Apparently, you do!

“Sorry, I thought you’d be used to me. ‘Cause I am.” He walks, with his body facing you, hoisting himself up to sit on the railing. The whole time you followed him with your eyes, your brows raised out of curiosity. “No? I’m still trying to put my head around the fact that you choose to travel all the way here just to talk to me.” He shakes his head, waving his hand, dismissively. You feel the corner of your lip twitch. For someone who wears a mask, he’s certainly expressive. “You’re special.” He shrugs, his voice sounding a bit too soft and sincere, surprising you. You prop your chin down on your hand, staring at him. “I’m special?” You seem to have flustered him as he shrugs—once more—and turns away. As if you would even see the way his cheeks turn pink.

“Well, you know..” He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, unsure with his words. You let out a chuckle, he turns to you again. He does this a lot, the moment you do something to counter him, he stumbles a few steps back. It’s adorable and reminds you of Peter, somehow.

“I think you’re great company. And you listen to me when I talk a lot.”

“Yeah, you ramble quite a lot, don't you?”

“I mean I get plenty of thoughts when I come over to see you.” This time you tilt your head to the side. “What kinds of thoughts?” The realization, that what he said might've been weird out of context, hits him like a train and he immediately shakes his head. “No, no, no. Not like weird thoughts. You know, like, uhm– You’re so cool! And I like the perfume you’re wearing today. Little things like that.” You purse your lips, holding back your laughter. You don’t know if his rambling really is entertaining, or maybe you just have it bad.

To be fair, it has been a few weeks since you started meeting him like this. You remember the day of your first encounter. He accidentally knocked down the plant on your balcony, and you caught him fixing it—or trying to hide the evidence that it was broken—then he offered to help however he can. You insisted, but he showed up later that night, dangling outside your window, with a new pot. It was the most baffling thing you’ve ever witnessed. And he helped you transfer the plant too. From then on, he frequents your balcony more than you do, and even waters your plants. Even though you didn't ask him to, you still appreciate him for it.

You don't know what you did to have caught his attention. You convinced yourself that maybe he really is just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man. But he doesn't seem to be hanging out in anyone else’s apartment other than yours. You don't have any complaints, however. He keeps you company, and you seem to do the same for him.

“So, the only thing I’m getting here is that you think about me a lot. And that I’m special.” You say the last thing with a smug grin, and he seems to find that amusing. “Not everyone gets called special by Spider-man. So, thank you.” You add. But, unexpectedly, he counters your remark. “You’re also very sweet.” He says, holding up a finger. Then another one. “And you care a lot. I appreciate you worrying about me whenever I come back from a mission.” Your eyebrows raise, cheeks feeling a little warm. “You’ve got a great smile, it's actually infectious.” He glances at you, and you imagine his eyes narrowing. He’s got three of his fingers up now, then adds another one. “You’re crazy about your plants, but I also like that—and I get it, I’m crazy about my lego collections too.” That’s big news to you, Spider-man apparently likes legos. That reminds you, Peter is also crazy about them. So far, you’re thinking they’d get along well.

However, you don't know where this conversation is going. But you’re curious to how this would conclude, so you keep listening.

“And, I just like you. You make my day. I have more to say, if you want me to elaborate.” He hops down, now standing beside you. Somehow, you turn a little shy. His arm brushes against yours, as he rests his hands on the railing. “But you must get a lot of people telling you that, yeah?” You don't know why Spider-man’s suddenly getting you in your feelings, but you guess he’s always been that spontaneous. “Well, I do have one friend. Peter. He tells me he likes..” You cut yourself off, a metaphorical light bulb turning on above your head. His words starting to

sound familiar.

You remember a sleepover you did with Peter a few months back. When he was so sleepy that he started a verbose speech about how much he appreciates your long-term friendship. And that he doesn't know anyone who could ever have your patience to deal with him.

Now, you’re holding Spider-man’s stare. He’s waiting for you to continue your sentence. But you don't think you would, not when something else came up in your mind. “Peter?” You say, still unsure. He seems startled by that, drawing his head back. “What?”

“Sorry, I just.. What was the gift you gave me on my thirteenth birthday?”

“Walkie talkie–” You point your finger at him, eyes wide, and pretty proud of yourself. Meanwhile, Peter finally realizes just what you’d done and fails to defend himself. That’s when he sighs, his shoulders deflating. And now you feel very bad. “I knew you’d be cornering me!” You give him a guilty smile, moving closer. “I’m sorry, you were just giving yourself away.” He sighs, once again, but he doesn't seem all too bummed out.

“So, it's really you?” Peter nods his head, your smile turns fond. You reach for his mask, hand hesitating for a bit. “You can take it off.” He says, and that’s the time you continue and lift the bottom of his mask, slowly revealing the familiar face of the boy you’ve spent your whole life with. “Peter.” He smiles at you, crooked, evidently embarrassed to be caught like this. But he knew the day would come. Not that he never planned to tell you who really is. “Ta-da?” Peter attempts to humor you, and it works, kind of. You chuckle, bringing yourself to hug him. He wraps his arms around you, feeling all sorts of emotions.

“I’m sorry for ruining your whole reveal. I know that’s not what you intended.” Peter hums and shakes his head. “I’m surprised you’re not at all weirded out.” You pull away, just enough to look at him in the eyes. “I mean, you do need to explain to me why you did all this.” He purses his lips together, trying to find the confidence to tell you that he’s liked you ever since he could. And that it’s been keeping him in some kind of crisis, since he doesn’t know how to tell you.

“It’s hard to say. I like you. I’m practically head over heels. But I’ve never had the confidence to tell you. So I decided maybe being Spider-man could help.” He scratches the back of his neck, now wallowing in his own embarrassment. “Clearly not.. I’m not good at flirting with or without the mask, apparently.” He turns shy, pulling himself away. To his surprise, you pull him back by taking his hands. “You’re really interesting, Peter.” He grows even more flustered, unable to look you in the eyes.

“First, you break my pot.”

“That wasn't intentional, I was really nervous that day.”

“It's alright, It wasn't a big deal. Then, you try to woo me as Spider-man, which almost worked, instead of just asking me out?” Now that you put it that way. His plan did seem like a lot of work. But he didn't have a guarantee that you’d say yes. What if he blows it and you never talk to him again? That’s like.. scarier than having to defeat a Titan warlord threatening to end half the population on earth. Imagine that.

“Would you?” He asks, voice so quiet, you almost missed it. You hum, squeezing his hands. “Would I go out with you?” Peter nods his head, and you also do. “Yes, I would go out with you. Peter, I don't know if you've noticed but I’ve tried to make it obvious that I do like you.” Peter’s eyebrows scrunch together, as he looks at you with pure astonishment. Was he the one oblivious?

“Do you remember when I said my mom packed extra lunches for you?” He nods his head. “I did them, intentionally.” You smile, watching as he starts recollecting your memories. “Even that time you held my hand during our first field trip?” You nod your head, as Peter takes it all in.

“That time you asked me out on Prom?”

“Especially that. I thought you’d get it by then.” You shrug, meanwhile Peter feels like the biggest idiot in the world for realizing it all just now. How could he have missed the signs? Why couldn't he have just taken the risk? He’s done that plenty of times before.

“Alright, don't stress your pretty little mind. Atleast, now we both know.” Peter ponders for a bit more, before he lifts your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “I think I’ll be fine if I worry a bit more. It seems I don't use what’s up here, anyways.” He says, trying to humor his own disappointment. And you have to fight back a smile. “Peter.” You chide and he mutters a quick sorry.

“Let me make it up to you? I’ll take you out, wherever.” He’s leaning closer to kiss you on your forehead, and you feel the warmth seeping throughout your entire body. It’s crazy how a gesture so small could make you feel so much.

“Deal. And I believe I owe you one thing?” He narrows his eyes, inquisitively, and you take the opportunity to kiss him on the lips. You feel him freeze, his entire body going rigid for a second, before he melts and kisses you back. His hand immediately goes to cup your face, while his other pulls you closer by the waist. And you can't help but think about just how soft his lips feel like against yours. You almost want to stay like this for a little while, until you have to take a breath.

“I have a good idea. Why don't we head inside before someone sees you, and tells the entire world that you’re Spider-man.”

“I think that’s the best idea ever, actually.”

miscellaneous masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #marvel mcu #mcu peter parker #🌺 ᝰ.ᐟ misc

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cutehoons02 · 4 months ago

Text

Speed lovers

*pairing: illegal racer driver Sunghoon x university Girl

*trope: stepbrother and sister/bad boy-good girl

*synopsis: You hated Sunghoon’s family but above all you hated him. Your mother had remarried with Sunghoon’s father and brought you to live with them, against your dream of moving to Paris but there was something even more that you did not tolerate: Sunghoon. It was the representation of the bad boy from fanfiction, cold, cynical and he only cared about him and his illegal racing but you did not know that he had a little sick obsession of you and that you were his favorite little stepsister and loved to tease you and somehow wanted to have you all to himself

*tags: A lot of tension, the protagonist and Sunghoon can’t stand each other, Sunghoon is definitely obsessed with her, they love to tease each other, Sunghoon is slightly a womanizer, description of a car race, lots of kisses, jealousy, manipulation, fake innocent girl, Masturbation, fingering, sucking, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) statement, pet names (princess, slut) (idiot,hoon,ice prince) +18,fluffy

12.k (🩶)

(English is not my native language) Jungwon

The front door slammed shut with a dull thud. Sunghoon ran a careless hand through his ice-colored hair as he threw the keys onto the table. The smell of gasoline, smoke, and his expensive cologne still clung to his clothes, the black leather jacket fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders. Another night, another race. Another pile of dirty money was hidden in the secret hideout he shared with his friends, who were also his rivals.

He dropped heavily onto the sofa, legs spread in a relaxed posture, but his eyes immediately locked onto her.

His stepsister was there, curled up on the couch with an iPad in her hands, absorbed in one of her endless fashion websites, while at the same time sketching some of her designs. She was wearing one of those ridiculously short skirts that drove him crazy – and not in a good way. Tonight’s was gray, paired with a pastel pink t-shirt featuring a little bow in the center. Sunghoon sighed, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell me you're at least planning to sleep in pajamas and not in these dresses."

You looked up from the iPad, confused. "What’s your problem now?" you asked, eyeing him.

"Problem? None. But honestly, every time I see you, it feels like I’ve walked into a toy store for little girls."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s not my fault you don’t understand anything about fashion."

"Oh no, I assure you, I understand perfectly. It’s just that you look like you’ve stepped out of a '90s cartoon—wait, no, more precisely, from one of those mangas."

You shot him a glare before going back to scrolling through the iPad. Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, propping his elbow on the backrest, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

"What are you looking for this time? Another doll outfit? Or maybe some socks with bows?"

You ignored him. He, of course, wasn’t the type to accept silence.

"You know, I wonder if you dress like this just to annoy me."

"And what if I do?" you retorted, raising your gaze challengingly.

Sunghoon smiled slightly. He knew you liked to play, and he was good at it too.

"Then it means you want my attention." You looked at him, disgusted, and rolled your eyes.

"Not even in my worst nightmares." He laughed. Then, without warning, he leaned toward you and brushed his fingers lightly over the hem of your skirt—a light touch, but enough to make you stiffen.

"You should be careful going out dressed like that." You jerked back, eyes wide. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Sunghoon just smiled innocently. "Just a bit of advice. You know how it is... There are men out there who might misunderstand."

"Oh? And you’d be one of them?"

He didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at you, his dark eyes shining in the dim light of the living room. Then, he slid back into a more comfortable position on the couch as if nothing had happened.

"Me?" He ran a hand through his hair casually. "I’m the least of your problems." You stared at him for a moment, lips pressed together. "Speaking of problems... I know you have a bit of an obsession with cars."

Your tone was light, but Sunghoon caught the suspicious undertone. "So?"

"So… I’ve heard some rumors. People say there’s someone in town who races at night. Underground races. Big money deals." Sunghoon tilted his head, amused. "And you believe every rumor, princess?"

"Not when they involve just anyone. But when they involve you… yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if, underneath that facade, you’re just a thug."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he leaned in again, too close. His face was just a few inches from yours.

"You know, you could even scare me if you weren’t so adorably annoying and curious about what I do." You blushed slightly at the proximity but didn’t pull back. "And you could seem innocent with that rich-kid aura if you weren’t a damn delinquent."

Sunghoon smiled again, that look of his promising nothing good. "Well, it looks like we’re both screwed." And with that, he stood up, leaving you there, heart pounding too fast and too many thoughts running through your head.

The light from the phone illuminated T/l’s face, Jungwon’s girlfriend and a university journalist, as she scrolled through the videos saved in her gallery.

"Here it is. Look." You hesitated, reaching out, but as soon as the screen showed the images, your heart sank.

The video was shot with a phone, probably amidst the crowd. The neon lights illuminated the asphalt, and the shouts of the people drowned out the deafening roar of the engines. The shaky shot moved to the makeshift podium, where Sunghoon raised a trophy with an arrogant smile. He wore his usual leather jacket, his ice-colored hair ruffled by the wind, and the adrenaline still visible in his gaze. He looked different. Not the usual guy who liked teasing you at home, but someone dangerous, untouchable, and attractive. Then it happened, a girl made her way through the crowd and climbed up beside him. She was exactly his type: long legs, tiny shorts, heavy makeup. The opposite of you.

He barely looked at her before she took his face in her hands and kissed him. The entire crowd screamed in delirium as if it were a scene from a movie. Sunghoon let her, even kissing her back for a few seconds, before pulling away with an amused smile, and your stomach tightened. You rolled your eyes and handed the phone back to T/l.

'Don’t tell me you’re jealous,' she said, laughing, raising an eyebrow and offering a mischievous grin.

"Me? Jealous?" you forced a laugh. "Please."

Yet, there was something that bothered you. Not because you wanted Sunghoon—he was your damn stepbrother—but the thought of him letting those girls touch him, girls so different from you, sparked an inexplicable irritation inside you.

'It’s not exactly the safest place in the world, you know? The first time I went, if it hadn’t been for Jungwon, I would’ve been busted by the cops. Those races aren’t just races. People bet, there are fights, and the police could show up at any moment... Sunghoon’s one of the best, but it’s still dangerous, and he’s not the type of guy you should be with.'

You looked away, biting your lip. Dangerous. That word described Sunghoon perfectly.

That night, at home, you couldn’t stop thinking about that video. You were sitting on the couch, knees drawn to your chest, still wearing your usual skirt and a white hoodie. You stared at the black phone screen, almost afraid to open that video again.

"Are you always this thoughtful, or is it just when I come home?"

You jumped. Sunghoon was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a smile somewhere between amused and suspicious. His hair was still messy, and his dark eyes shone under the dim light of the living room.

"What do you want?" You tried to sound indifferent.

"You." — he replied, chuckling when he saw your shocked expression. "Calm down, I’m joking. But seriously, what’s going on with you?"

You hesitated. Should you tell him you knew about the races? About the video? And the illegal things he did every weekend?

"Nothing," you said with a forced smile. He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe you and slowly moved closer until he sat down beside you on the couch. He stretched his arm over the backrest, leaning in slightly, and now you were too close to him.

"You’re always so strange, but tonight, it’s even worse."

"I’m not strange," you said, glaring at him. He leaned in even more, bringing his face closer to yours. "Then why won’t you look me in the eyes?"

You swallowed. Damn, he always knew how to make you uncomfortable.

"I don’t have anything to say to you, why should I look you in the face?"

"Oh no?" — he tilted his head. "What if I told you I know that you’ve figured me out?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "What am I supposed to have figured out about you?"

"Come on, princess, you’re not good at hiding things. You paled as soon as I looked at you."

You bit your lip, trying to stay calm. Sunghoon was too smart not to realize that you knew something.

"I saw a video." He tensed slightly, but the smile didn’t fade. "Which one of many?"

"Of you on the podium." You saw him clench his jaw, his gaze darkening.

"While you were getting money with that girl." Silence. Then, suddenly, Sunghoon burst out laughing.

"Wait..." he ran a hand through his hair, confused but amused. "Are you telling me you’re mad because you saw me with a girl and not because I race and take money illegally?"

"NO!" you answered quickly, too quickly.

"Sure, sure. Then explain to me why you have that face."

"Because you’re disgusting, that’s why!" He stopped, raising an eyebrow. Interesting. "Oh really? Why should I be disgusting? I’m 22, everyone our age does things!"

"You go around kissing those... those..." You were searching for the right words, but you were too angry.

"Those?" he leaned even closer, his face only a few inches from yours. "Tell me, princess, how would you define them?" You felt trapped. His gaze was burning, amused, and provocative.

"It doesn’t matter." You looked away. He tilted his head with a devilish smile. "You know, I didn’t think you were the jealous type."

"I’m not jealous." He laughed again because you were so small compared to him.

"Oh, sure you are, you’re adorable when you’re annoyed."

"Fuck you." He shook his head, amused, before leaning in and whispering in your ear:

"You’re too sweet to say such words." A shiver ran down your spine. Damn Sunghoon, and whoever invented him. You stood up from the couch and went to your room, which was the only place in the world where Sunghoon never entered. It was as if he were afraid to step into that sanctuary of innocence that was your bedroom, and if he ever did, he would ruin you and bend you to his sick, twisted pleasures.

"Tell me again, why am I doing this crazy thing?"

You were standing in front of the mirror in T/l's room, nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt. She, on the other hand, was completely at ease, sitting on the bed as she applied lip gloss to her lips.

'Because you're curious.' she replied with a mischievous yet friendly smile. 'And because you want to see for yourself if your brother is the racing devil.'

You turned sharply and threw a pillow at her face. "He's not my brother."

'Oh, sorry. Your stepbrother, with whom you've been living for two years and who can’t stop giving you dirty looks and would like to make you his, in any way possible."

"He doesn't give me dirty looks! And he doesn't want to make me his. If I didn't exist, that'd be better for him."

'Sure, right. We all know he has a soft spot for you and has seriously told you not to mess around or behave badly because sooner or later, he'd find out.'

You huffed, avoiding a reply. You weren’t there for Sunghoon. You just wanted to understand why those races had such a dangerous allure for him. When you arrived at the parking lot, Jungwon was already there, leaning against his car with his usual cheerful smile.

-Finally! I thought you were gonna bail on me- he said to T/l, hugging her and kissing her on the forehead. Then he turned to you with curiosity. -And this is your friend?-

T/l nodded, smiling. 'Yes! It’s her first time coming to a race, so try not to scare her.'

Jungwon laughed while fastening his seatbelt and kissed T/l lightly on the lips. -Don’t worry, you know I’m the harmless one of the group-

And he was right. He had a completely different energy from Sunghoon: cheerful, carefree, respectful, and you could see how he looked at T/l—he was deeply in love with her. He immediately made you feel at ease, without that annoying tension you always felt around Sunghoon. But that calm didn’t last long.

When you arrived at the racing area, you felt your stomach tighten. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of gasoline, the neon lights illuminating the faces of strangers, all with the same excited and adrenaline-hungry look. The cars, perfect and shiny, were parked in a line, ready to compete. It was another world, Sunghoon's world.

-Hey, stick with T/l- Jungwon came over and gave you a small hug as if to reassure you. A simple gesture, but so different from Sunghoon. -Jay will be here soon. He’ll keep an eye on you, okay?-

You both nodded, but before he could add anything else, a familiar voice rang out through the chaos of the crowd.

"What the hell are you doing here, Y/n?!"

Your body stiffened at the sight of Sunghoon pushing his way through the crowd, his dark eyes locked on you with pure fury. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, his ice-colored hair tousled, and his dangerous gaze with an aura that exuded charm, but also unease.

-Wow, wow. Calm down, man- Jungwon raised his hands in surrender, confused. -You know Y/n? She’s T/l’s friend-

Sunghoon ignored the question and moved closer to you, grabbing your wrist with a force that didn’t hurt but made it clear he was pissed.

"Come with me."

'Sunghoon, leave her alone! We came together to enjoy the race.' T/l intervened.

"Shut up," he growled, not even looking at her, and Jungwon stepped in front of you and his girl. -Don’t talk to T/l like that, Sunghoon. Do we understand each other? What’s the problem if Y/n comes to watch an illegal race?-

Sunghoon finally turned toward him, a cold smile on his face. "The problem is that you brought my stepsister to a place where she shouldn’t be." Jungwon’s face darkened. He understood everything in an instant.

-She’s...?-

"Yes," Sunghoon replied furiously. He had never imagined seeing you in his territory and hated seeing you so beautiful in the eyes of everyone, especially dangerous people.

Jungwon seemed to bite a curse between his teeth. Then he turned to T/l with a look that said (You should have told me earlier, right?)

'I didn’t think it was a problem...' murmured T/l, uncertain.

Sunghoon laughed, with no trace of amusement. "It’s not a problem. It’s THE problem."

You lifted your chin, trying not to be intimidated. "You’re not my guardian, Sunghoon." He stared at you, his pupils as dark as night. "Too bad you’re under my roof, so it’s my business."

Jungwon sighed. -Listen, man. I didn’t want to put her in danger. I’m keeping an eye on her, and Jay will be here soon.-

Sunghoon scoffed, not letting go of your wrist. He was furious.

"No," he said quietly. "She’s coming with me."

"And what if I don’t want to?" you hissed, struggling to free yourself. He looked down at you, his face coming a little closer to yours. Too close.

"You’re gonna force me to show you the side of me you don’t want to know, bitch."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Damn Sunghoon. Damn this place. Damn you, for knowing this wouldn’t end well. You jerked free from Sunghoon’s grip, your chest rising and falling with anger.

"I’m not going with you." you hissed, looking him straight in the eyes. "I don’t trust you."

His gaze darkened, his bottom lip twitching slightly as if holding something back.

"Say that again?" he said, glaring at you furiously.

You swallowed. You knew you were provoking him, but you were tired of pretending his possessive attitude didn’t get on your nerves.

"I said I don’t trust you." T/l immediately grabbed your arm, trying to calm the situation. 'Hoon, come on, don’t overreact. We’re just here to watch the race, and Jay will be here soon.'

He didn’t answer. He was still staring at you with those dark, piercing eyes, so intense you felt glued to the ground. Finally, the tension broke when a familiar voice made its way through the crowd.

<<Oh, look who we have here!>> Jay said, approaching with his usual confident smile, a girl by his side. He was dressed similarly to Sunghoon, leather jacket, and dark jeans, but he had a more relaxed, friendly vibe and held Jay’s hand tightly in his.

<<Tonight is full of new faces,>> he commented, looking at you with interest before his gaze shifted to Sunghoon. <<Problems?>>

Sunghoon took a deep breath as if trying to control himself. Then he ran a hand through his hair and responded in a low voice,

"She's with you, Jay," Sunghoon said to the guy with the sharp jawline.

Jay raised an eyebrow, then turned to you and T/l. <<Oh, so you’re under my supervision?>>

"Don’t exaggerate," Sunghoon retorted with a smirk. "I just want to make sure no one lays a hand on her."

Jay stood up, shaking his head, and Sunghoon ignored him, moving closer to whisper something in Jay’s ear. When he approached Jay, his best friend, his tone dropped lower and became sharper.

"Keep an eye on her. If anyone tries anything with her, I’ll make them regret it. But most importantly..." he paused briefly, casting a glance at you before continuing. "I want to know if she’s staring at anyone. If she looks too much at a guy if she smiles too much at someone... if she seems interested in anyone."

Jay suppressed a laugh. <<What are you, her stalker?>> he said, laughing.

"No," Sunghoon replied with a slow, dangerous smile. "I’m the biggest problem for anyone who thinks they can have her."

Jay shook his head, amused. <<You’re really beyond help!>>

Then Sunghoon turned toward Jungwon, his opponent for the night. The two exchanged a glance, mutual respect mixed with fierce competition.

You tried to listen, but the music and the chaos of the crowd drowned everything out.

When Sunghoon walked away from Jay, he seemed more relaxed. He greeted you with that usual malicious smile, the one that only meant one thing: "We’ll talk about this later." You felt a shiver run down your spine.

The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and burnt tires. The crowd was buzzing, shouting names, placing bets, and the engines roared like beasts ready to be unleashed. You were there, standing next to Jay, his girlfriend, and T/l, your heart racing as you watched the cars lined up at the starting line.

Sunghoon was in his car, a Nero Phantom, the name he had given his vehicle. Black as night, with almost invisible dark stripes under the streetlights, it seemed like a moving shadow, a ghost on the road. No one knew how fast it was, except for those unlucky enough to have raced against him.

Jay leaned slightly toward you, his usual sly smile on his lips. <<Ready to see why they call him Ice Prince?>>

You turned to him, confused. "Ice Prince?"

Jay nodded. <<Yeah, Sunghoon is the coldest of them all. He’s not afraid of anything or anyone, not even Heeseung, who’s the strongest around here. While the others lose their heads, he stays ice-cold. He never makes a mistake. And when he drives...>> he gestured toward the track, <<it’s like time stops for him.>>

You turned again toward Sunghoon, who had by now lowered his car window, showing a confident smile before focusing back on the road.

The traffic light signaled the way and in an instant, the cars shot off, like bullets fired into the darkness.

Sunghoon's Nero Phantom took the lead immediately, but Jungwon was right behind, glued to his bumper. The first stretch was a long straightaway, where speed mattered more than technique. Sunghoon’s engine roared as he shifted gears, gaining an advantage over the others.

But then came the first turn. This was where the difference between a good driver and a champion showed. Jungwon tried to pass on the inside, squeezing into the small space left by Sunghoon. But Sunghoon didn’t leave any room. At the last second, he turned with surgical precision, braking later than seemed possible, making the car slide just enough to close the trajectory.

"Dammit... he’s insane," you muttered without realizing it.

Jay looked at you, laughing. <<Told you. He never messes up.>>

But Jungwon didn’t give up. He moved to the outside, trying to cut off Sunghoon in the acceleration, but Sunghoon anticipated him again. Cold. Sharp. Calculating. At every turn, every braking point, he seemed to play with the other drivers, as if he already knew what they were going to do before they did it. He passed with chilling confidence, without hesitation. It was like he was dancing on the road.

The last turn was the finishing blow. Heeseung, who was in third place, tried to attack both of them, risking everything, but Sunghoon did something insane: instead of defending, he let Heeseung pass for a second, only to cut the trajectory and pass him again on the exit of the curve.

'What a son of a bitch...' T/l hissed, incredulous. You couldn’t even speak. It was hypnotizing watching him drive. And when his car crossed the finish line first, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Sunghoon Park had won. Again. But while everyone expected him to get out of the car to collect his reward, he did something unexpected.

He got out of the car calmly, his hands stuffed into his leather jacket pockets. His face showed no emotion as if it had just been another normal night. He barely lifted his chin and without saying a word, he gestured for Jay to go collect the money in his place.

<<Wait, aren’t you taking them?>> Jay asked, surprised. Sunghoon didn’t respond, and his eyes were already locked on you. In that instant, you realized that for you, the night wasn’t over.

Before you could say anything, before you could even move, he was already in front of you. He grabbed your wrist, not squeezing too tightly, but enough to make you realize that you had no choice.

"Come with me," he said

"Let me go, Sunghoon!" you protested, trying to free yourself from his grip. But he didn’t slow down. He was stronger. More determined. He didn’t care if you were struggling, didn’t care if you glared at him. He dragged you without any.

"I told you to let me go!" you insisted, trying to plant your feet on the ground.

Sunghoon stopped suddenly and looked down at you, his dark eyes filled with irritation. His expression sent chills down your spine.

"If you keep throwing a tantrum, I might get pissed off," he said, his voice calm on the surface, but there was danger hiding in his words.

You swallowed, feeling your heart pound in your chest. But you would never give him the satisfaction of letting him see that his tone had rattled you.

"You know what? You're just a bully, Sunghoon. You like to boss people around, deciding what I should do when I should do it, and you think everyone should bend to your will."

A sharp smile appeared on his lips as he moved a little closer. Too close.

"Oh, really?" he murmured, lowering his face until it brushed against your ear. "Strange. Because every time I take your hand, you come with me."

Your breath caught. Was it true? Was he manipulating you? Or was it just his confidence that made you follow him as if he knew exactly how to make you do what he wanted?

Before you could respond, you turned to the passenger seat and slammed the door shut with a quick gesture.

"Try to move, and you'll see what I’ll do," he whispered through the window, his tone low and dangerous.

You bit your lip, crossing your arms in anger as you watched him walk around the car and get into the driver's side.

As soon as the door slammed shut, the engine roared like a beast freed from its cage. He didn’t even give you time to buckle your seatbelt.

He slammed the accelerator without warning, and the car shot forward like a missile, making you bump lightly against the seat. The asphalt beneath you turned into a dark river, the streetlights stretching like glowing trails as the speedometer climbed rapidly.

100 km/h. 120. 150. You didn’t take your eyes off him. You weren’t scared.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch.

He glanced at you sideways, his black eyes glowing in the dashboard light. He was studying you.

"Aren't you scared?" he asked, his voice calmer, though the danger was still there.

You raised your chin in defiance. "Should I be?" His smile slowly widened. Cold. Sharp.

"Usually, good girls like you start whining when I go too fast. They beg me to slow down. They beg me to stop."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I’m not like the other girls you hang out with."

Sunghoon made a strange sound. "Oh, I know that very well."

180 km/h. 190. 200. The engine roared, and the speed pressed you against the seat, but the real jolt came when he turned completely toward you, his eyes burning with something dark.

"You’re not like them… but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t have the time. Sunghoon suddenly swerved and turned the car onto a quiet, isolated side street, away from the rest of the city.

The roar of the engine faded as he slowed down, coming to a complete stop. The only sound left was your rapid breathing.

You quickly turned toward him, ready to shout at him, but you didn’t get the chance. Sunghoon turned quickly and brushed his thumb over your lips. A light touch. But it froze the blood in your veins.

"You've been a bad girl tonight," he murmured, his voice low and dark. "And I don't like that."

For a moment, you stared at him in silence, then a sarcastic laugh escaped your lips.

"Oh? Strange, because judging by the type of girls I see you with, they seem to be just your type."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his smile becoming slow and dangerous.

"What type?"

"The ones who come to watch you race. The ones all bold, with skimpy clothes and a deadpan look." You looked him straight in the eyes. "The bad girls who drool over you."

"And does that bother you?"

"Not at all," you said, crossing your arms. It was a lie. And he knew it right away.

"Mmm," he nodded slowly. He was watching you. Analyzing every reaction, then shaking his head with a smile.

"I don't like liars either."

He lowered his gaze. His fingers slid slowly over the bare skin of your thigh, tracing small circles. It was at that moment that your breath truly stopped.

"You see..." he continued in a low voice, his thumb still brushing your lips. "I like having control. And I like it even more when someone tries to challenge me."

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the shiver running down your spine.

"It’s not a lie," you insisted, crossing your arms in defiance. "I wasn’t jealous at all."

Sunghoon studied you with an unreadable look, his black eyes seeming to dig into you. But you didn’t let him win.

"And anyway, you're not even my type," you turned to look at him, and slowly, an arrogant smile curved his lips.

"Oh no? Then tell me, what kind of guys do you like?"

You raised your chin proudly. "Good guys. Polite, respectful, romantic. Not the ones who spend their nights racing down the streets like they're invincible."

Sunghoon’s eyes darkened. He didn’t like what you were saying.

"My ex..." you whispered, but at the same time, Sunghoon heard you, and you didn’t even finish the sentence. Sunghoon moved so quickly that you barely noticed.

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"I don’t want to hear any other asshole's name come out of your mouth," he hissed.

He was jealous. You realized it right away. It was subtle, but you saw it in the details: his clenched jaw, the veins in his tense hands, his strong grip on the steering wheel just moments before.

A shiver of realization ran down your spine. You tilted your head slightly and looked at him with a spark of mischievous amusement.

"Wait a minute..." you murmured with a provocative smile. "Are you jealous?"

Sunghoon didn’t answer. But the way his gaze became lethal gave you the confirmation, and you decided to strike.

"Does it bother you that someone else had me all to himself before you?"

It was a moment. A blink of an eye.

Sunghoon faltered. For a second, he seemed to lose control, as if your words had ignited a fire in his stomach he couldn’t tame, and then, without warning, he crashed his mouth against yours.

The kiss was neither sweet nor gentle. It was fierce, burning, angry.

His lips moved over yours with a searing intensity, as if he wanted to brand you, make you his, erase with one touch the memory of any other guy. He grabbed you by the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving you no escape.

You lost your breath. It was too much. Too intense, too violent, too much him. His hands never left you, not for a second. One held you firmly by the waist, and the other slid down your back, pressing you against him with an almost desperate urgency.

He was thirsty. For you. For everything that you were. And he didn’t even give you time to catch your breath before biting your lower lip. Hard. Possessive. A muffled moan escaped your lips, and Sunghoon immediately took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, claiming you entirely.

"Say my name," he ordered against your lips, his voice hoarse and low.

You looked at him, your breath still uneven. He didn’t want just to kiss you. He wanted to be the only one. The only one to make you tremble. The only one who could push you this far, but you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

"Why should I?" you murmured, trying to hide the frantic beating of your heart. Sunghoon smiled. But it wasn’t a kind smile.

"Then I’ll have to make you change your mind."

And before you could reply, he kissed you again, harder, greedier.

Sunghoon pulled away slowly, letting his warm breath brush against your reddened lips. His eyes were fixed on yours, as black as the night, burning with a satisfied and dangerous fire.

Then, a sharp smile curled his lips. "I’m not your type, huh?" he whispered, tilting his head in amusement. "Strange, because you seemed to enjoy my kiss quite a lot."

Your heart did a flip. That bastard. You turned away abruptly, turning your face to the side to hide the blush rising to your cheeks. Your breath was still uneven, your lips were swollen and warm from the kiss he had stolen so violently.

"What’s wrong? Now you’re being shy?" His tone was provocative, his eyes full of amusement. "Strange, because just a minute ago you seemed pretty… involved."

You clenched your fists. You would never give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. "You’re an idiot," you hissed. He shrugged, still wearing that annoying smile.

"Maybe." He reached for the ignition, but before starting the car, he leaned in again, his face only inches from yours.

"I suggest you get some rest tonight," he murmured against your skin. "Because tomorrow, it will be quite a problem for you to look me in the eyes without thinking about what happened."

Sunghoon stayed in the car for a moment after he dropped you off at home. That little smirk still on his lips, you had retreated to your room like a frightened fawn. Too late, too late to escape from him. He knew now you would do nothing but think about that kiss. His touches. His hands on you. Him.

He ran his tongue over his lips, still swollen from the fierce kiss he had given you that had made you tremble. He had felt your breath become irregular, your fingers subconsciously gripping him, and that drove him crazy.

You had tried to provoke him, to challenge him, but he had won, and now, in the days that followed, it would be fun to see how long you would resist before breaking, before admitting that you didn’t hate him, that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You avoided Sunghoon like the plague: If you were in the living room and he walked in, you’d find an excuse to leave; if you heard him in the kitchen, you’d wait for him to leave before going down. You didn’t look at him. You didn’t speak to him. You pretended he didn’t exist, but he wasn’t someone who accepted being ignored.

That night, your pencil slid across the paper, tracing delicate and precise lines. The clock showed 1:12 AM, and the silence in the house was almost deafening. Your fingers were dirty with charcoal, and your eyes were tired, but your passion for fashion kept you awake.

You stiffened immediately. Your parents were out of town, and the house should have been empty. A shiver ran down your spine, and your heart began to beat hard against your ribs as you slowly stood up from the chair. You grabbed one of the scissors you used for fabric and, with light steps, made your way to your bedroom door. You poked your head out slightly and saw him.

Sunghoon was leaning against the wall, one hand pressed against his side, his face lowered. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow, and his lips, red and swollen, looked like they’d been hit. His white shirt had some dark stains that didn’t look good.

It wasn’t the first time you saw him come back in bad shape, but this time it seemed worse.

“Sunghoon?” Your voice was more uncertain than you wanted, and he slowly lifted his gaze, and despite his battered face, his lips curled into a cheeky smile. “Oh, my little sister is still awake, how sweet.” A knot tightened in your stomach, and you slowly walked closer to him. “What happened to you?”

He sighed and tried to move, but stumbled on the stairs. You instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him. His body was warm, and his scent was a mix of leather, gasoline, and metal.

“There’s no need to touch me, little one. I know you can’t stand me.” You looked at him carefully and sighed because he was acting like an idiot.

“You’ve got blood all over your face, idiot! I can’t just ignore it!”

Sunghoon chuckled softly but quickly stopped with a slight groan. “You know what you are?” he muttered as you guided him to the living room. “A little angel with a sharp tongue, and someone should put you in your place.”

“And you’re an idiot,” you said as you gently pushed him onto the couch, and he collapsed with a heavy sigh. You opened the bathroom cabinet to get the first-aid kit while he watched you with his usual mischievous look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you snapped as you returned to him.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “I like it when you worry about me.”

You blushed but tried to ignore him. You grabbed a cotton ball and soaked it with disinfectant. “This is going to hurt.”

“You’re not very gentle, you know?” he said as he watched you touch his face.

You pressed the cotton onto his wound, and he grimaced, clenching his teeth. “Shit… you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I did.” Sunghoon looked at you with a challenging smile. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Are you always this reckless?” you retorted, continuing to dab at his eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

He shrugged, apparently unfazed. “Business.”

“Illegal business, you mean.”

“Princess, you know I can’t tell you anything.”

“And you know I hate when you call me that.” He gave a sly smile. “And that’s exactly why I do it.”

You slapped him lightly on the injured shoulder, and he groaned.

“Okay, okay, calm down! You’re violent for being a little princess with cute skirts and bows.”

You shot him a glare. “And you’re really stupid for being a successful pilot.”

Sunghoon laughed, his dark gaze locked on yours. “Admit it, though… if it weren’t for me, your life would be boring.”

“If it weren’t for you, my life would be normal,” you replied, pressing the bandage against his wound. “And maybe I’d be in Paris chasing my dream, instead of spending nights cleaning the blood of my idiot stepbrother.”

Sunghoon stopped smiling. “Paris, huh?”

You nodded without looking at him. “Paris.”

There was a brief silence. Then, his voice dropped lower. “And when were you planning to tell me?”

You looked up at him, finding him more serious than usual. “It’s none of your business, Sunghoon.”

He nodded slowly, then leaned slightly forward, shortening the distance between you. “No, but it concerns me that I want to see how long you can keep pretending.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What are you talking about?”

His lips curled into a half-dangerous smile. “You know very well.”

Your heart was in your throat. He wasn’t just a problem—he was the problem. And you knew that no matter how hard you tried to escape, Sunghoon would never truly let you go.

After finishing disinfecting his face, you looked at him and said, “Hoon, you need to wash up. I can’t disinfect you if you’re still covered in blood and dirt.”

He ran his tongue over his lips, the usual provocative smirk still on his face, despite the cut above his eyebrow. “Then strip me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Not.” He flopped more comfortably on the couch, spreading his legs carelessly. “I’m too tired to move. If you want me to wash, you’ll have to help me.” You bit your lip, unsure whether to answer him or just ignore him. But he knew you too well and knew that eventually, you’d give in. “No way, Sunghoon.”

He raised an eyebrow, licking his lower lip as his gaze analyzed you. “Then I’ll wait all night. But you’re not going anywhere.”

You swallowed. He always threw these challenges at you, and you hated admitting that you always ended up accepting them. With slightly trembling hands, you reached for the edge of his bloodstained shirt. You felt his muscles tense under the fabric as you slowly lifted it. Sunghoon didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but his gaze was fixed on you as if savoring every little reaction.

Once you removed the shirt, revealing his warm skin, marked by scratches and bruises, you held your breath.

“Now the pants,” he said, amused. You froze. “You’re a pervert, Sunghoon.”

He smiled slyly. “And you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to give him the satisfaction. Slowly, you unbuttoned the pants and unzipped them, carefully avoiding looking him in the eyes. You slid the jeans down his legs until he was left in just his tight Supreme boxers, tight enough to make you quickly look away.

You stood up abruptly, your cheeks burning. “I’ll go get your bath ready, come wash up.”

He got up calmly, walking toward the bathroom with a confidence that irritated you. You watched him enter the bathroom, and he looked at you when he put his hands in his boxers to pull them down. You quickly looked down at the floor, finding it very interesting while he stepped into the bathtub. You bit the inside of your cheek. You needed to leave immediately, but as you turned to go, he whispered:

“Stay here.”

His voice stopped you before you could reach the door. You slowly turned around. “Why should I?”

He leaned against the edge of the tub, his messy hair falling into his face still dry, his gaze darker than usual. “Wash my hair,” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Sunghoon—”

“Don’t bother saying no.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “You know you’re unbearable, right?” He chuckled softly. "And you know that, if someone other than me asked you, you’d do it without complaining."

You couldn't agree with him, but you knew you’d never deny help to someone who was hurt. You approached the tub, kneeling next to him. Your hands sank into his hair, and slowly you began to lather it. It was soft under your fingers, silent. It was so rare to see Sunghoon so calm. All you could hear were your breaths and the faint sound of the water flowing.

Your fingers moved more gently, massaging his scalp. He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly towards you. Then, a sound made you stop—a moan. He whispered your name, almost as if it slipped out of his lips, and you stiffened, your heart pounding in your chest. Only then did you understand why he had loved making you moan his name that night of the kiss? It was a sound that went under your skin, that made something tremble inside.

After washing his hair and leaving him there to relax, you returned to your room, your heart still racing from everything that had just happened. You sat on the bed, trying to catch your breath. Why did Sunghoon always put you in such uncomfortable situations?

After a while, you heard the door open. Sunghoon entered the room, with only a towel draped over his shoulders and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His silver hair, still damp, fell over his eyes, giving him an even more disheveled and sexy look than usual.

Without saying anything, he sat on your bed, grabbing the hairdryer from your nightstand.

"Dry my hair," he said, taking the towel off his shoulders. You swallowed at the sight of his toned body and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Sorry?" He lay back slightly, resting on one elbow and crossing his legs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You washed my hair, now finish the job."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You're acting like a spoiled child, Sunghoon."

He smiled to the side. "And you like a good, caring little sister."

"I'm not your damn little sister." His eyes lit up with mischief. "No? Then why are you so cute when you take care of me?"

"You're impossible," you said, staring at him.

He chuckled and waved the hairdryer at you. "Come on, hurry up."

You sighed heavily, grabbing the dryer and turning it on. You approached him, trying to keep a safe distance, but in an instant, Sunghoon grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap.

"Hey!" you protested, trying to wiggle free. He held you in place with one hand on your back. "This is more comfortable."

Your heart raced in your chest. You could feel his breath against your skin, his big hands resting securely on your hips. Why did he always play with you like this?

You tried to ignore the heat you felt everywhere and began drying his hair. Your fingers moved delicately through his locks, and Sunghoon closed his eyes, enjoying every touch. After a while, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"Your hands are magical, you know?" he murmured, with a small smile.

You blushed slightly. "Shut up." You turned off the dryer and tried to get off his lap, but his hands stopped you immediately. He looked you straight in the eyes, his gaze now deeper, more serious.

"Where do you think you're going?" You swallowed. "I’m done." He shook his head. "I’m not."

And before you could understand what he meant, his lips crashed onto yours again. A hungry, possessive kiss. As if he had been waiting for that moment for far too long. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you even closer to him, making you feel every tense muscle beneath you. You moaned against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, nibbling your lower lip to make you shudder.

"Tell me," he whispered between kisses, his voice hoarse. "Can I make you feel good?"

Your brain is short-circuited. "W-What?"

"You took care of me, now let me take care of you." You bit your lip, feeling the heat spread everywhere. You had never seen Sunghoon so intense, so focused on you, and part of you wanted to run away, but another part was tired of denying what you felt for him.

"Yes..." you whispered barely audibly. Sunghoon smiled against your lips. "Good girl."

Sunghoon made you lie in your bed and your breath was broken, your heartbeat gone mad. Every inch of your skin burned under his attentions, Hoon licked, bit, left marks on your sensitive skin, every bite a mark, every sound that escaped from your lips a further victory for him and laughed against your breast, licking it with exasperating slowness. "So sensitive... and I haven’t done anything yet," he said as he nibbled lightly on your sensitive bud full of his spit. His voice was a harsh whisper, almost a restrained roar. His dark eyes shone with mischief and desire and he touched your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Tell me, what would you do if you saw my cock? Or even worse..." he stooped down, nibbling at your abdomen as his fingers fiddled with your pajama strap, "if it was already inside you?"

A shiver ran through your back when with a single tug he stripped you of both pants and panties. You heard him whistle softly, his eyes fixed on your wet and pulsating center. "Christ, look how you shine... you’re all for me, aren’t you?"

The tip of his finger traced a slow path along your folds, the touch light but devastating. When he pinched your clitoris, your body bowed against him, the fingers sinking between his ice-colored tufts and groaning at his name.

"So responsive..." he whispered, almost amused, before licking you with an exasperating delicacy. "Tell me, do you want me to continue or should I stop here?"

He didn’t even give you time to answer before a finger slid into you, causing you to hold your breath. Hoon grinned at your skin, the eyes burning with pure worship and perversion.

"Damn, I love the way you hold me..."

You said in a low voice "Oh God..." When you felt his tongue biting and licking your clitoris but at the same time pumping into your center your mind was completely clouded.

Hoon wouldn’t stop sucking your clitoris, his sinful tongue playing with you with exasperating slowness, almost as if he wanted to see how far you could resist before begging. The truth? You wouldn’t last much longer.

"Are you feeling well, princess?" His husky voice vibrated against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. "Because you seem to be on the verge of going crazy..."

Asshole. He knew you were on the verge of pleasure and was enjoying every second of your surrender.

You felt him smile at you as he stuck another finger into your hot and pulsating flesh, increasing the rhythm of the thrusts. The contrast between his tongue working on your clitoris and his fingers filling you slowly made you lose control.

"H-Hoon..." your groan was almost a hiccup, fingers clinging to his silvery hair in a desperate attempt to restrain you.

"Mmmh, I love the way you say my name when you’re about to come."

Those words were your ruin. Your body bowed, shaken with pleasure, as you came violently between his lips and fingers. He held you still as you enjoyed every spasm of your orgasm, his gaze glued to you as if he wanted to imprint in his memory the image of you so vulnerable under him.

"Damnation..." he whispered, passing his tongue over your moist lips, his eyes shining with something primordial. "You’re so small, so helpless beneath me... I could take you any way I want."

A shiver ran through your back. The way he said it... the confidence with which he spoke as if it were already written in the destiny that would happen. And you knew he wanted it as much as you did.

You bit your lip, your heart still hammering in your chest as you looked at it with your eyes half-closed. "Then why don’t you?" Whispers, your tone a challenge veiled by sweetness.

Hoon chuckled softly, but his eyes became darker. He approached you, making his body adhere to yours, and the contact of his erection against your skin still hypersensitive made you shudder.

"Not yet." His whisper sent a shiver down your spine. "When I make you mine, I want you to be able to think of nothing but me."

That promise made you tighten your thighs, the desire to be dangerously rekindled. " Presumptuous." You mumbled, trying not to show how much those words had struck you.

But then you noticed something that made you come back to reality: his eyes, still lucid from the pain of the fight. Although his body was strong and imposing, the wounds on his face and arms reminded him that he was not invincible. You bit your lip, then, without thinking, you pushed it slowly on the bed, making it lie down.

"What the hell are you doing?" he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as your breath tickled his skin. You looked down at his wounds, then met his eyes again, and smiled at him, sweet but with a touch of malice. " I’m taking care of you..." whispers, lowering yourself to leave a light kiss on a scratch on his jaw. "Once again."

Hoon snorted, but he didn’t move. "I don’t need you."

"Shhh..." You put a finger on his lips, making him raise an eyebrow. "I didn’t ask your permission."

His eyes shrank into a dark flame of interest as your lips left a kiss trail down his chest, descending slowly toward the abs. You felt his muscles twitch under your touch, his breath became heavier.

"You know you’re dangerous, don’t you?" he muttered, his voice lower, more scratched. "You drive me crazy," he said with a hand in his still-wet hair.

"Oh, that’s right." And you left another kiss right above the belt of his pants where there was his navel, enjoying the tension that grew in his body.

The sun filtered shyly through the curtains, gently illuminating the room. Hoon slowly opened his eyes, his body still numb from sleep, and the first thing he saw was you. You were sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest, your arms wrapped around him in search of warmth. Your breath was calm and steady, and your fragrant hair lightly tickled his skin. For a few seconds, he stayed still, simply watching you. Then, almost without thinking, he lowered his lips to your forehead and left a soft kiss, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But he immediately stopped. What the hell was he doing?

This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t the type to stop and watch a girl sleep, to be swept away by gentle, instinctive gestures. Yet, every time he was with you, it felt like something inside him cracked.

And that scared him. You were becoming his weakness, but at the same time, his obsession.

Hoon bit the inside of his cheek, trying to push those thoughts away. He carefully pulled away from you, trying not to wake you, and got out of bed. He ran a hand through his silver hair, sighing.

It was better to distance himself a bit, he muttered softly to himself.

After that night, the days passed, and Hoon came home rarely. You tried not to think too much about it, not to dwell on it, but… something felt strange. You felt restless. You had seen him only a few times, but he never stopped to talk to you. No arrogant jokes, no intense stares, no provocative touches.

And that irritated you. Why should you feel like this? Wasn’t it better this way? At least you could focus on your studies and the goals you had set for yourself. But then, why did your heart race every time you heard the roar of a race car? Why did his scent still seem to linger on the sheets?

You needed a distraction, and that’s when T/l, Jungwon’s girlfriend, showed up at your door with a mischievous smile on her lips.

'There’s a race outside the city tonight. Foreign drivers, a lot of cool people, and of course, we have to be there.'

You widened your eyes. “A race? I remind you that last time, Sunghoon wasn’t exactly happy to see me,” you said.

She nodded but enthusiastically said, 'Forget about him, it’ll be worth it. You need to relax a bit, and who cares about Sunghoon? You’ll be with me.'

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t your world. Not like it was for Hoon, Jungwon, and the others, but maybe that was exactly why you needed to go.

So, that evening, you showed up at T/l’s place. You were wearing a light blue skirt, short enough to show a bit of your legs, a tight-fitting top, boots that made your figure stand out, and a leather jacket that completed your look.

When T/l saw you, her eyes went wide, and she burst out laughing. 'Wait a minute…' she looked you up and down with an amused expression. 'Where’s the sweet girl I used to know?' You barely smiled, tightening the zipper of your jacket with your fingers, and shrugged, smiling back at her.

Hoon was leaning against his car, the second-place finish well-earned after a brutal qualifier. The roar of the engines rang in his ears, adrenaline still rushing through his veins.

Around him, a handful of girls were trying to get his attention. Sly smiles, hands brushing his skin, gazes full of desire, but he doesn’t even look at them. His eyes were fixed on Jungwon and his girlfriend. Or rather, on you, next to them.

What. The. Hell. Were. You. Doing. Here?

As if having you underfoot at his house wasn’t enough, now you had to step into his world too?

This wasn’t your place, and you knew it well. Hadn’t it been enough to see him pissed off a couple of weeks ago? This wasn’t a place for good girls like you either, yet here you were. The headlights softly illuminated you, making your perfect skin glow. Your hair was lightly tousled by the night wind, and your outfit… Damn.

A light blue skirt. A delicate blue, almost innocent, but the length was a damn provocation. A tight top. Nothing too bold, yet on your body, it seemed like the deadliest weapon.

Boots and a leather jacket. As if you were playing the bad girl and that outfit… looked damn good on you.

Hoon licked his lips, the irritation bubbling inside him. Why were you here? What were you hoping to find? Strong emotions? Risks? People like him?

The race began, and he let himself get carried away. He pressed the accelerator with more rage than necessary, letting the engine scream beneath his fingers. But that night, Heeseung was simply faster, more precise, more strategic. Second place, not bad, but not enough.

Hoon got out of the car, his hands still gripping the steering wheel from the adrenaline. He was ready to ignore the world and grab a drink when his eyes landed on a scene he never should have seen.

You, talking to another guy and smiling at him. He wasn’t a driver, he wasn’t a mechanic—just some random guy who’d come to watch the illegal races. Yet, he was laughing with you, talking to you, looking at you with too much damn confidence, and his jaw tightened, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you. You were his, not in the sweet sense of the word. Not like a step-sister, not like a friend, not like something rational. You were his because he had decided it, and he didn’t care if you hadn’t realized it yet.

With slow, measured steps, he approached you, and the girls who’d been surrounding him stopped laughing, sensing the shift in his aura, and the people around moved aside without even realizing it.

Hoon didn’t say a word as he stood behind you. He just stared at that guy with eyes that left no room for interpretation, and the guy noticed it, his smile faltering. He began to feel the weight of the attention, the air growing suddenly heavier.

Hoon didn’t need to say anything because it was clear. He spoke to you, but also to the guy you were talking to: “She’s not for you.”

And if that loser was smart, he would’ve left before Hoon decided to make him understand in another way.

Because that night, he would find a way to make you remember who the only man who deserved your attention was.

The silence in the car was unbearable. Hoon gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white from the firm hold. His gaze was fixed on the road, his jaw clenched. The engine roared under his control, yet he seemed on the verge of losing his own. You, sitting beside him, could feel your heart beating too loudly. You hadn’t dared speak since he grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the race, ignoring your protests, but this time, he didn’t stop on some deserted road.

He took you down to the garage of a building, and you knew exactly what it was. The racers’ hideout. You had heard about it, see his friends leave after the races and head to that place, but never, not even in your wildest dreams, had you imagined you’d be brought there by him like this.

Hoon slammed the car into the park, opened the door, and stepped out without even looking at you. Then he walked around the car and opened your door with a sharp motion.

“Get out.” His voice was an order.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Sunghoon, what...”

“I said. Get out.”

The look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. There was something dangerous about him in that moment, something you had never seen before.

You knew you should refuse, tell him he was going too far, but your legs moved on their own, and before you could even process it, you were already inside.

The inside of the hideout was exactly what you expected. Chaotic, but after a few steps, he pushed you into his room, and you entered hesitantly.

Posters, race photos, pictures of him and his friends, money scattered everywhere, as if it didn’t matter to him. A perfect mess, typical of someone who lived on adrenaline and speed.

But Hoon? At that moment, he couldn’t have cared less about his room. Before you could say anything, he grabbed you by the waist and pinned you to the wall.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes burning as his fingers traced along your exposed legs.

“Sunghoon,” you said, looking at him.

“No, tell me.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Did you dress like this for me? No, wait...” His smile turned sharp as his hand slid further down, brushing the hem of your skirt. “You dressed like a good girl, but with those little slutty details. Why? Were you hoping I’d notice?”

Your face burned with shame. “Stop! Don’t talk to me like that!”

He laughed a low, guttural chuckle. “Oh, does it bother you?” His fingers traced your thigh with an excruciating slowness. “Because the truth hurts, doesn’t it, princess?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the reaction your body had to his touch. “You’re nobody to treat me like this.”

Hoon raised an eyebrow, then lowered his gaze to your lips. “NO?” He moved even closer, his body pinning yours to the wall. “Why don’t you seem so sure while you’re saying that?”

He grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“You know what I want to know?” His tone was venomous, lethal. “I want to know who you touch yourself for at night.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “I know you do it thinking about me.

You swallowed hard, your heart feeling like it was about to explode. "You're an asshole." He smiled, pleased. "Maybe."

He pulled back slightly, watching you. "So, this is how you get jealous."

"Of who?" You tried to sound dismissive, but the tremble in your voice made him smile even more.

"Of all the girls who flock around me." He moved closer, his lips a breath away from yours. "Say it's not true."

You gritted your teeth. "It's not."

"You’re a terrible liar, little sister."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, his eyes piercing into yours as if he were reading your thoughts. "You know it's true, don't you?" he whispered, his hand gripping your waist with far too much confidence. "You know you want me just as much as I want you."

You breathed heavily, your heart pounding wildly. "And what if it’s true?"

He stifled a groan, his jaw tightening as his fingers dug into your hips. "Christ..."

For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but then, he pulled away abruptly and ran a hand through his silver hair, as if trying to regain control.

"Go home," he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. You looked at him, stunned by his words, and whispered his name.

"Now," he ordered, his tone commanding. You couldn't take it anymore, couldn’t endure his games, his unpredictable behavior, the way he drove you crazy with desire only to push you away as if nothing had happened. You couldn't stand seeing him with other girls, couldn't hold back what you felt anymore. You'd liked him since the first day you saw him, and without thinking twice, you grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and kissed him. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, nor a shy one. It was fierce, full of frustration, need, and possessiveness. Sunghoon groaned against your lips, caught off guard for just a second. Then he recovered, and in an instant, his hands slipped under your skirt, gripping your ass hard enough to make you gasp. With a swift motion, he lifted you, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the closed door of his room.

"Finally..." he hissed against your mouth, his lips still tasting of your desire. "You took a fucking century."

His voice was hoarse and dark, the tone of a real bastard.

"Shut up," you muttered, laughing slightly. He paused for a second, then bowed his head. "What did you say?"

You shivered down your spine, but you didn’t back off. "I said shut up." Sunghoon smiled. That sharp smile, the one that made your legs tremble.

"God, you’re such a little bitch, aren’t you?" his hands squeezed your flesh even more, making you bite your lip. "A good girl with a big mouth. I wonder if I can find another way to use it or to silence you."

That comment made your blood boil, and you decided to punish him in the best way possible. You rubbed against him your body was slow and decided against his cock.

The reaction was immediate. You felt his erection harden against you, the electric tension in the air became unbearable and you bit your lip, looking at it with an innocent air. "Do you like it, Hoon?"

He puffed, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. "Princess, you have no idea what you’re doing." You kept moving. More pressure, more friction, and then, you felt it, a low growl from his throat.

Then, a slap on your uncovered thigh. " Enough." His voice was authoritative, with no room for objection but you didn’t intend to stop while you felt the pain but also the excitement grow and you leaned down at his ear, the hot breath against his skin. "What if I don’t want to?"

Another slap in your buttock made you moan and Sunghoon pushed you even more against the door, his heavy breath as his dark eyes shone with pure lust.

"You want to play with me, Y/n?" he growled, his low and dangerous tone. "I guarantee that with me you will always lose." A shiver ran through your skin.

He slipped his hand along your thigh, touching the edge of your panties. "You’re already wet, aren’t you?" You didn’t answer, you shouldn’t already be so wet and in need of him. He laughed. "Oh, don’t you want to tell me? All right."

With a torturing slowness, he stuck a finger under the thin tissue slipped between your intimate lips, and took your breath. "Hoon..."

"What is it, princess?" he whispered, licking your neck as his finger traced slow circles on your clitoris. "Are you speechless?"

You felt as if your body was on fire. His voice, his touch, his absolute dominion over you... was too much and too little at the same time.

You clung to his ice hair, gasping when the pressure increased.

"What did you want from me, uh?" he continued to tease you. "When you kissed me... what did you think would happen?"

"That you would finally catch me." You confessed in a whisper.

Sunghoon moans slowly, his breath broken against your skin. "Christ..." He brought you down from him, his chest heaving up, his fingers still pressed against your hot skin. Then, without saying anything, he hit you with a strong slap on the butt and moans, a mix of surprise, pain and excitement. He laughed quietly, smug. "Do you like it, princess?"

You did not answer but he grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "Reply."

Swallowing, heart pounding. "Yes." Sunghoon licked his lips. "Damnation... you’re just as I imagined."

He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned to you to come closer.

You did not answer but he grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at it.

"If you would be mine..." his voice was dark, velvety, but with a thread of danger underneath. "Prove it to me."

You took off your white shirt and he whistled when he saw your bra with your already turgid buds and touched it slightly you felt your body shivering and took you by the side and with a click he took off your bra and your breasts you sat down over his legs and felt his cock already hard and you started to slightly swing and he began to torture your buds with his tongue and teeth but Hoon had other thoughts in mind made you lift slightly and felt the fabric of your skirt Pull it down. He had gripped it and pulled it hard, slightly ripping off a flap.

"Hey!" moaning, looking at him with big eyes. "This skirt cost an eye of the head!"

He shrugged his shoulders, totally uninterested. "I buy another."

"That’s not the point!" you blurted out, trying to fix it, he laughed again, his low and dirty laugh that made your knees tremble. " Princess, I win thousands of dollars a race. I could fill your wardrobe with skirts like a good girl... and then tear them all off, one by one."

His fingers snapped to the elastic of your panties, playing with them slowly, without ever lowering them.

"White, eh?" he whispered, looking at the delicate lace. "So innocent even here below..." He looked up, his eyes dark and hungry. " But soon I will ruin you forever."

You felt a shiver running down your spine, his hands slowly climbing up your thighs, just pressing on your warm skin.

"You won’t be a good girl anymore." whispered against your skin, you lifted slightly and settled on the back of its legs, pressing on its hardness still covered by boxers.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" You bit your lip, pretending nothing while you started moving slowly over it, gradually increasing the pressure. He immediately grabbed you by the hips, holding you tight. “Don’t play with fire, darling."

But you didn’t stop to feel his erection growing beneath you. You felt how much you were driving him crazy.

"Tsk." Sunghoon laughed softly, but there was tension in his voice. "Where the hell did you learn to be so provocative?"

You approached his ear, your breath touching his warm skin. "Perhaps I had a good teacher."

He pressed you even more against himself, his eyes full of danger and desire.

"Oh, princess..." he murmured, His voice low and threatening. "Now you’ve really crossed the line. In a moment, he had pushed you back on the bed, his body above yours, his dark and hungry eyes peering at you as if they wanted to devour you.

He leaned down on your legs and began to nibble the sensitive skin of your thighs, alternating slow bites and kisses, cruel, full of dangerous promises.

"Laugh, laugh pure, darling." whispered against your warm skin. "Let’s see if you’ll laugh again when you’re full of my cock and cum."

With trembling hands, you took off his boxer shorts and your eyes were running towards his cock which was slightly pink and full of liquid, was long and quite large, and swallowed slightly as you touched him Sunghoon watched carefully every move you made and slightly he rubbed around your vaginal lips and after a little, while Sunghoon was crazy to hear you around him and with one blow almost entered completely inside you and both groan at the feeling of your bodies attached to each other.

When he pushed into you, both groaned in unison. "Fuck, you’re so tight around me..." he panted, moving slowly at first to get you used to its length. You bit your lip, but then whispered: "Move."

He laughed softly. "Always so impatient, eh?" He started pushing harder, and you pulled his hair. "God, you’re beautiful like this," he said between moans. His cock was sinking deeper and deeper into you, and you sucked it back up tight, put your arms around his neck, and kissed him as you felt that you were getting more and more busy.

"Look at you, you’re taking me so well, maybe we should have done it before it’s so nice to see you under me, shoved by my arms and cock" he whispered against your lips as he squeezed His hips to push even deeper into you. "I thought you were better at standing up to me... and instead look how you hold me close as if I never had enough," he said laughing. A shiver through your back and you felt it lift slightly your leg to push deeper into you. When he found your G-spot, you shouted his name, nails stuck in his shoulders.

"There? In here, right here?" he teased you, aiming the rhythm and making you almost lose control. "Who would have thought... that my little stepsister would be so good at taking my dick?

"Hoon..." groan, feeling your body surrender to him. "Go on, I’m close."

He smiled smugly and, without stopping, slid a hand between your bodies to caress your clitoris, stroking it with circular and precise movements.

"Tell me that I am the one who will make you come," he whispered in your ear, with a mischievous grin. "Tell me that no one else can make you feel like this."

The words, the tone, the way in which it dominated you completely made you give up words, the tone, the way in which it dominated you completely made you give up completely, and with a choked cry you came tightened around him, your body shaken by a wave of intense pleasure.

But he had not yet come. With some more deep thrusts, he let his seed and sperm fill you, staying inside of you for a few seconds before exiting with a panting breath.

You felt empty without him, but before you could say anything, Sunghoon pushed a finger into you, making you shudder. "You must hear it well, baby. This is the sign that you are mine."

You watched him with burning cheeks as you felt his finger push even more into his cum and groan "You’re a jerk."

"Fuck." He whispered between his teeth, passing a hand through his unkempt hair before stooping down to press a hot kiss on your lips that kiss he was giving you was a slow, intimate kiss that had nothing to do with domination or possession anymore.

A kiss that spoke only of you two and Sunghoon lay down next to you, dragging you immediately into his arms, wrapping you in a strong, almost desperate embrace. You caress his chest, feeling his breath returning slowly to normal, and then, without thinking, let those words slip away. "I didn’t want to fall in love with you."

His body stiffened for a second and then, a low, dark, roaring laugh invaded the room and you lifted yourself slightly, observing the bold smile on his lips.

"I didn’t want to fall in love with you either, princess," he whispered, his eyes chained into yours. "But we’re both fucked now."

He touched your face with the tips of his fingers, his look softer, more human, and you, without thinking about it, shook his hair with a little smile.

He laughed again, holding you tighter against him.

"Mine”, he repeated quietly, like a promise etched in the skin, and you, this time without hesitation, annuity.

Sleep wrapped you, hugged, trapped in each other, and at that moment, you realized you would never be able to escape from him again.

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0luv9 · 2 years ago

Text

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

#first post #mattheo riddle #slytherin #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #matheo riddle #pansy parkinson #matheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #had a hard time writing on here #realised it was mattheo and not matheo after completing the whole fic #had to manually copy paste each para into google doc

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