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darkmatilda · 3 days ago

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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a terrible day at work, you find an unexpected dose of comfort in an absurd late-night conversation with your coworker.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, you make a huge mistake at work (unspecified) for which you get seriously chewed out by hotch, too many beds trope, ridiculously long considering the entire plot revolves around a single conversation, gets kinda wild at the end, spencer hits his head, but it’s nothing serious

𝐚/𝐧: the ending inspired by a situation from my life, but don’t worry, my head is fine now (in the general sense of the word) (no one kissed my forehead...) i recommend reading it in bed before sleep <33

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.7 k

"Hotch, but I thought—"

"It doesn't matter what you thought," your boss replied in his typical, emotionless tone, which in this particular situation sent a distinct chill down your spine. Every word he uttered felt like a frozen dagger, driven straight between your ribs and left there, while the coldness spread across your skin in the form of goosebumps. "What you did was not only reckless but also undermined all of today’s hard work by the entire team. They put tremendous effort into locating the unsub and cornering him at that specific location, and because of your decision, he managed to escape. Every additional day this man remains free could cost someone their life—an innocent person."

You stood before him in an empty parking lot across from the hotel where your entire team was staying. It wasn’t exactly the typical setting for delivering a reprimand, but since you were far from the office, there wasn’t a better option at hand. And while you were teetering on the edge of tears—tears you were desperately holding back to avoid appearing like a weak little girl in his eyes—you were grateful for one thing. Grateful that he had chosen to chastise you in private. One-on-one. Away from everyone else.

A moment of silence fell between you, and you tried not to lower your head like a chastised child—but that’s exactly how you felt. Not just ashamed, but overwhelmingly guilty. As someone who had only recently joined the BAU, you’d never made such an egregious mistake before. A mistake that could cost someone their life. Deep down, you had clung to the naive hope that this moment would never come. That if you followed the instructions of those more experienced than you with feigned confidence, something like this could be avoided.

But reality had placed you in a completely different position—one where, for a brief moment, the weight of everything rested squarely on your shoulders. You failed, and the unsub escaped.

The wind around you blew with a certain bitterness, tugging at your hair. It drowned out the sound of your heavy breathing, your racing heartbeat, and the loud gulp as you swallowed. Hotch, saying nothing, studied you with a measured gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted allowing you into this job.

“I wanted you to be aware of that,” he said, his tone less harsh now but tinged with a certain disappointment that only deepened the guilt gnawing at you. He nodded, signaling you were free to go. “That’s all I had to say.”

He walked away, and watching his figure dissolve into the darkness in such a dramatic manner, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The laugh immediately turned into the beginning of a sob, which you quickly stifled, waving your hand in front of your face. You stood there for a moment, your feet seemingly rooted to the parking lot, as though the concrete were still fresh, hardening around your shoes.

In your experience, failure almost always came hand in hand with a sense of vulnerability, transporting you into a completely different, weaker body, one without any shields. All the achievements of the past few years, including making it into the BAU at such a young age, seemed to melt away, and once again, you were nothing.

You knew you couldn’t stand there all night, but in a way, it felt safer. In the motel, you might run into someone from the team. You might accidentally meet their gaze, and you’d see the disappointment in their eyes. After all those weeks of trying to prove your worth to them, of showing that you even belonged in this job, the last thing you wanted was to face that look.

To muster some courage, you took a deep, slow breath. You needed to slip into your room unnoticed, lie down in bed, hoping that the night would at least slightly cleanse you of your guilt. Hotch was absolutely right. Not only had you wasted an entire day of hard work, but you’d also put civilians from that area in danger. What if tomorrow another person became a victim?

The thought tormented you so much that by the time you reached your door, you were massaging your temples. You inserted the key you had picked up from the front desk into the lock, turned it, and was about to pull the handle… but it was locked. Frustrated, you figured the universe had simply decided to unite all of its forces against you as some kind of punishment. Before you could resort to a tired kick at the door and curl up in a ball in the hallway, you tried again. This time, the door opened without issue.

So absorbed in yourself, your situation, and your grievances, you didn’t even notice that inside, not only was the light on, but there were someone’s belongings—and, most importantly, someone else. It wasn’t until you took off your coat and stepped further into the room (if you could even call it that, it was an exceptionally small space) and came face to face with Spencer Reid that you realized you weren’t alone.

You stopped mid-step, stunned as if the least expected thing at that moment had just appeared before you—a turtle on stilts wearing a cowboy hat, or some other kind of religious prophet.

Quick note—this wasn't the first time you and Reid had shared a room during cases. Specifically, the bed. It all started when you found out he struggled with a fear of the dark, and someone’s presence really helped him feel better. In fact, at first, he insisted on sleeping on the floor, but you couldn't just watch him suffer on that uncomfortable surface every night. And, you had to admit, sometimes after an especially harrowing day in your, let’s be honest, stressful job, it felt nice to fall asleep next to someone.

As usual, it was him who came to you. Late at night, to your room, when he felt like sleeping would be particularly difficult. He was never there from the start…

"It turns out all the rooms here are double," he blurted out hastily upon seeing you, his tone overly explanatory.

When you walked in, he was in the middle of pulling something out of his suitcase. He straightened up, and you noticed he was wearing a loose T-shirt, his hair damp from a shower, and in his hand, he held that familiar white sweater you often teased him about, the one with an embroidered bear wearing glasses.

"I mean, the rest of the team got roomed together too, so we’re not some weird exception. I hope this doesn’t bother you. If it does, well, maybe we can switch somehow… I know Elle and JJ are together, and I think they only have two beds in their room, but maybe... or I could go with Derek…”

"Oh, come on," you waved dismissively, your tone sounding a bit irritated, like you were shooing away an annoying fly. The truth was, you were exhausted from the day and didn’t want to worry about the accommodation on top of everything else.

Reid stopped mid-sentence, his lips slightly parted. You felt guilty again as you had no reason to speak to him like that. He hadn’t done anything to deserve your frustration.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, your tense posture easing a little as you realized you were no longer outside, under the sharp, yet truthful words of your boss. "Really... I'm sorry, Reid. It doesn't bother me at all. Not one bit," you reassured him, sincerely.

He studied you in silence for a moment, his face showing a concerned, analytical expression.

"Actually, we’ve shared a room before," you added almost immediately, forcing a little chuckle. "And not just once. Well, at least now we have two beds…"

"Did you... did you talk to Hotch?"

The question was asked with hesitation, on a breath. Well, it finally meant confronting everything that had happened that day. You looked him straight in the eyes, searching for judgment or any hint of dislike toward you. But there was none. Instead, you found concern and discomfort at the fact that he had even brought up the subject.

"It’s... it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it," he quickly corrected himself, giving a slight nod. "You... you have every right, I don’t expect you to explain anything to me, your conversation with the boss is your private matter... oh God, I feel like with every word I say, my statement is losing more and more sense, and I’m getting more and more tangled in it, isn’t that right?"

He stared at you with furrowed brows, waiting for your reaction. It turned out to be... a burst of laughter. You honestly couldn’t help yourself.

“I hate to admit it, but yeah, you’re right. You completely lost your train of thought. Maybe we should just pretend I’ve only just walked through that door, huh?”

“That’s... that’s actually a very good suggestion. So... so, uh, hi?”

Your lips curved into a smile, this time genuine.

“Hi, Reid.”

He managed to improve your mood in less than five minutes after you’d received a serious reprimand. You were immensely glad to have ended up with him in the room lottery. Shaking your head in disbelief, you began getting ready for bed without a word. He didn’t say anything either, sensing you needed a bit of space after everything that had happened. Speaking of space...

“This room is alarmingly small, don’t you think?” you said, returning from the shower and slowly sliding under your blanket. Fifteen minutes under scalding hot water had helped your body relax, and you no longer felt like you might throw up on your own feet at any moment. “It’s like some sort of exclusive cupboard under the stairs. Still a cupboard, though. Look, I can practically touch you.”

You stretched out your arm to demonstrate. Sure enough, even though you were sitting on neighboring beds, your fingertips almost brushed the fabric of his shirt. Between you was a massive nightstand made of dark wood, the same as the windowsill and the floor. On it sat a slightly old-fashioned bedside lamp with a glass base and a slightly yellowed lampshade. Other than that, there wasn’t much furniture. Not that there would’ve been room for any.

“Do you hear that?” Reid asked enigmatically, sitting up straighter on his bed.

You looked at him, intrigued.

“Listen closely…is that…paper rustling? Morgan drafting his resignation?”

You chuckled. Your coworker had a particular sensitivity to the motels you stayed in and their condition. He firmly believed that since you risked your lives almost daily during dangerous cases and investigations, you deserved accommodations that were at least decent. And that wasn’t always what you got.

“Don’t worry, as long as the shower has hot water, we don’t have to fear him leaving,” you said. “Though now that I think about it, I can’t blame Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Potter. If I lived in such a claustrophobic little room, I’d convince myself I was a wizard too. Can I turn off the lamp?"

You politely asked, as usual, leaving plenty of room for potential conversation. Aware of his fear, you always ensured he felt comfortable with the encroaching darkness. Reid looked at you with a hint of hesitation.

"Maybe... maybe it could stay on for a bit longer? If that's..."

"That’s okay," you finished for him, knowing what he intended to say.

A fleeting, grateful expression crossed his face. Seeing it, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You were glad he no longer felt as ashamed of his unease with the dark. Besides, you preferred the light to stay on too. You were afraid of what the darkness might conceal—the worries and anxieties it could bring… already was bringing.

Mainly, it was the looping words of your boss, the thought of how you'd messed up, and the rest of the team. Well, there was one thing that eased your mind in that regard: knowing that Reid was lying in the bed next to yours and recalling the look on his face when he saw you. He wasn’t angry that you’d let the unsub get away. Maybe the others weren’t as furious with you as you’d imagined.

Or maybe it was the opposite?

Maybe he, as the second-youngest member of the team after you, was the only one showing you any understanding. And the others, perhaps, harbored nothing but disdain, their resentment growing stronger at the mere thought of you…

"You're shivering."

Reid's observation reached your ears as you lay on your side, facing away from him. His voice was gentle, blending seamlessly with the quiet that had previously enveloped the room, not cutting through the sound of your sleepy breaths but accompanying it. Not knowing how to respond, you gave a small shrug. He probably saw it—you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn't intrusive, just a worried glance from the corner of his eye.

"I could turn up the temperature if you're cold. Do you want me to?"

Your trembling had nothing to do with the cold, but admitting that felt like too much. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, trying to steady your restless body.

"Yeah, if you don’t mind," you murmured in response.

It was easier to blame it on the chill. Still, hearing him get up and move toward the thermostat, you felt a pang of guilt for pulling him out of bed. He should already be asleep. There was so much work waiting for you both tomorrow. Another day of the investigation—a case that could have been solved already if not for you…

"I'm afraid…it doesn’t seem to work," Reid said thoughtfully. He fiddled with it for a moment longer before letting out a sigh and returning to his bed, though he didn’t lie down right away. He paused in the narrow space between your beds, and you felt his gaze again, wondering what it meant this time.

"Maybe… I don’t know, would you want my sweater? You know which one. It's…too warm for me, but since you're freezing…”

Reid’s voice was soft, tinged with an almost shy kindness that made your chest tighten. You didn’t need to turn around to picture the small, uncertain smile that likely accompanied his offer. Of course, you knew exactly which one he meant. He had received it as a Christmas gift from Penelope, and it was quite light and breathable. But what truly made it a staple in his pajamas was the adorable bear wearing glasses that appeared on the front. Sometimes, when you slept in the same bed, you could feel the softness of its fabric.

You had just turned toward him, a hint of hesitation in your eyes. You weren’t actually cold—you had been lying about that all along—but still... the offer lingered in your mind. His kindness, followed by the concern. You felt that taking his specific sweater, which was not only comfortable but also... well, his, could effectively calm your trembling limbs and ease your anxiety.

"Would you like to give it to me?" you asked, making sure. "You don't have to."

He shrugged slightly and immediately bent down to grab the suitcase tucked under the bed. The sweater in question was right on top, so he could reach for it at any moment when he felt the need for an extra layer.

"I know I don't have to," he replied, pausing for a moment with the sweater in hand. "But, you know, I want to. It's just a sweater."

"Won't Penelope be mad if you're giving it away like that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She’d be furious…" he started, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the edge of your bed, his forehead lightly furrowed. After a serious moment of hesitation, he sat on the bed, as gently as if he feared it would burn him. He stretched the sweater out towards you. "…if I gave it to anyone else. But in this case, she'd probably scold me if I didn’t give it to you."

You took it from him. Though it wasn’t one of those thick, bulky sweaters, it felt surprisingly heavy in your hands.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," you replied after a moment of hesitation, letting out a sigh. "After today."

Reid looked at your face in silence. Suddenly, you started regretting not turning off the lamp after all. His gaze seemed piercing, too piercing. It surely noted every shadow of doubt and shame cast by the subtle changes in your expression.

“That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”

For a moment, you both stared at each other in silence. You sighed, shifting slightly to the side, making room beside you.

“Come on. It’s easier for me to talk when I don’t have someone directly in front of me.”

Surprised, he stared at the small space next to you, shaking his head slightly.

“But… this bed is kind of ridiculously small, don’t you think?”

“I’m not that wide, Reid. If that’s what you’re suggesting…”

“That’s absolutely not what I meant, and I definitely wasn’t suggesting anything,” he quickly explained. “Well, maybe apart from the fact that every tiny movement will risk us both falling off…” He looked at you with an unchanged expression, patiently pointing to the spot next to you and sighed in defeat. “Okay, I feel like I’m not winning this one…”

Well, he had a point. After a while of shifting around, trying to find a position where you wouldn’t keep elbowing each other in the ribs, and after countless accidental jabs and whispered apologies, it ended with him half-lying, half-sitting, leaning against the headboard of the narrow bed, while you lay flat on your back, your head resting on the pillow. His figure cast a gentle shadow over you, making the room feel darker than it really was. It had a calming effect. Or maybe it was just the presence of someone so close by. Or perhaps it was the touch of the soft sweater, the fabric resting between your fingers, in the way one holds a rosary. Maybe it was a little bit of all those things.

"I screwed up today," you said. Though your voice was soft, there was no trace of gentleness in your tone. From the way you were lying, you could see his face, and you noticed his lips part slightly, as if to deny it. "And don't try to convince me otherwise, Reid. I knew that even before Hotch said it to my face."

You heard him sigh softly.

"I guess it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

"Oh, Reid, it was like a horror movie. But I don't blame him for anything he said. I deserved to hear it all from someone else's mouth, not just from my own head." Restlessly, you began to fiddle with the sweater like a stress toy. He watched the movement of your hands, alternating between that and the slight trembling of your chin. "At least the talk with him is over. Now I'm scared... scared of what’s with the rest of the team."

You voiced your biggest worry out loud, and there was a silence as he pondered it.

“I think… I think we’ve talked about this before,” he replied finally, clearing his throat. “About how you’re afraid of what others will think of you. And I don’t want to repeat myself, but... you need to look at it a bit differently. We all started somewhere, we were all rookies. If we got mad at each other every time someone messed up, well, there wouldn’t be a team. Of course, we keep in mind all the mistakes we've made in the past..."

“You're good at comforting...” you muttered bitterly.

"...But we don’t dwell on them unnecessarily," he finished. "We're only human, you know. It’s estimated that each person makes about five to seven mistakes a day. If we assume you live to be about eighty... though of course, I wish you much more than that, that would be between 150,000 and 200,000."

You snorted, listening to those statistics.

“I feel like I’ve already used up half of my lifetime quota today,” you confessed, while also reflecting on the first part of his statement. About the team, who, according to him, wasn’t going to hold a grudge against you…

Reid paused for a moment, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he said after a while. “Just make sure you’re really careful when you’re old. You won’t forget when your grandkids have birthdays.”

“Damn, I think that’s the problem. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. I’ll probably mix up their names. Or call them all by the same one. The prettiest one, of course. The least common one.”

“Just make sure you get a good calendar,” he suggested. “One that’ll remember everything for you. Dates, names.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist.”

“And the number for the rheumatologist,” he agreed.

You spent a long moment without bringing up any new topics, but laughing quietly about the course of the conversation. If you looked at it that way, this was probably the only time in your life you talked to someone about being an old lady with a questionable memory and joint problems with amusement rather than sheer terror. Although the bed was seriously small, you felt more comfortable than ever before. You were sinking deeper into the mattress, into his side, into relaxation. You wondered if and when, or even if, he planned to go back to his own bed. There was really no reason for him to stay...but was there any reason for him to leave?

“And you?” you spoke again after a long moment. You felt like the only way to keep him around was by saying something. Not that you were desperate to have him stay… “Have you ever messed up on a case? Like, seriously messed up?”

"I could lie and say I haven't," he noticed.

He shifted slightly, likely due to exhaustion, as his back had been slowly sliding down the headboard for a while, until it finally sank into the mattress. His head rested on the pillow right next to yours, closer than ever before. Well, you could only blame the narrow bed for that. Because of the tight space, you had to lie on your side, which meant your breath brushed against his cheek.

"You could. But then I'd ask Elle for the truth, and you'd only end up compromising yourself."

"That's true. That's why I'm telling you. Just promise you won't laugh."

"This sounds serious. Come on, what did you do?" you asked, genuinely curious, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, or let me guess."

He lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. However, when you suggested it, he slowly and hesitantly turned onto his side as well, so that you were face to face. He probably wanted to see your reaction, the laughter you'd burst into once he told you, whatever it was.

"You have three guesses," he announced. He tried to gesture to you encouragingly with his head, but then, for a split second, his chin brushed against yours. Slightly flustered, he quickly froze again.

For a moment, something changed in your breath. You bit your lip, thinking. His gaze briefly dropped to it.

"Okay, so that’s the first one," you said, taking in more air than you probably needed. You didn’t really understand what was happening, but it seemed like you were running out of oxygen faster than you should have been. "Did you confuse your weapon with a taser?"

"Really, that was the first thing that came to your mind when you thought about a mistake I might have made?" he scoffed. His breath warmed your face in a pleasant way.

"Oh, sorry, but it’s really hard for me to come up with anything when it comes to a genius with eidetic memory," you replied, rolling your eyes. "I don’t know, did you lose some evidence? Something really important?" you suggested, trying to read confirmation from his brown, unusually gentle eyes at that moment. He gently shook his head.

"Now, I honestly don’t know. Okay, this might sound like some soap opera plot, but here goes. Were you supposed to keep an eye on a potential victim and ended up having a passionate affair with them?"

You lowered your voice to a flirtatious whisper as you said the last words.

For a moment, he held your gaze. He met it like an opponent, sending an exciting shiver down your spine. And it wasn’t because of the cold. But then, he submissively lowered his eyes. You let out such a strong burst of laughter that you started to worry if you had accidentally spat on him.

"Spencer Reid, you’re joking with me, right?"

He turned back onto his back again, avoiding looking at your wide-open mouth and amused eyes. You propped yourself up on your elbow, gently nudging his shoulder.

"What kind of... seductress beast are you? Because I don't know how else to call it," you muttered, still shaking your head from side to side. "Wow, I didn’t know this side of you."

"There’s no side like that," he replied defensively, closing his eyes with some embarrassment. "It was... she was an actress who had a stalker..."

"An actress?"

"...and it just happened that way! But it was definitely a mistake. And it wasn’t any... passionate affair, as you called it. I put her in unnecessary danger when we kissed in the pool..."

"In the pool?"

"Oh, why do I even keep talking?" he groaned, pressing one hand to his tightly closed eyes. He suddenly snorted. "Sure, laugh even louder. Gideon and Derek in the next room won't mind if you wake them up."

"Oh, don't change the subject now. You seduced an actress. Was she famous?"

"I didn’t seduce her..."

"So, she seduced you?"

Reid sighed, resigned.

"Well, I’d put it that way," he admitted finally, quietly, with a certain childish indignation, as if he had simply decided to surrender to the onslaught of your questions. He didn’t reveal much, but after a moment, you learned a few important details about the case, and with some... relief, you realized you didn’t recognize the actress’s name. But why relief?

Suddenly, however, the hysterical amusement faded, leaving you with a genuine dilemma. Reid was still lying on his back, avoiding your mocking gaze and comments. Before you could stop yourself, you lightly touched his arm to get his attention. He nodded questioningly.

"I know this might be a very strange and, above all, an extremely personal question, but what does it take to seduce you?" you asked.

Reid froze, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I just realized that I’ve probably never seen you actively filter anyone. Consciously, that is. Because sometimes it happens, and you don’t even notice it," he opened his mouth to protest, but you quickly covered it with your hand. Confused, he looked down at it. "Don’t even try to deny it, everyone would confirm it. But I’m trying to imagine the kind of person you would lose your head for, and I’ve got a few conflicting ideas. So, I’ll repeat the question. What does it take to seduce you? Asking for a friend, of course."

Reid flinched as if alarmed.

"What friend?"

"My God, it’s just a figure of speech."

He sighed, and the way he shook his head showed a certain disbelief.

"You’re surprisingly hyperactive, considering the time. Maybe we should go to bed?"

"No, I asked you a question," you protested. "Does she have to be pretty? Smart? Probably both, right?"

He looked at you with the same expression—simultaneously embarrassed, disbelieving, shocked, amused, offended, and above all, thoroughly confused.

"I feel like this question is going to keep you up tonight. So, for the sake of your own sleep, I’ll answer briefly. And I don’t care if my answer satisfies you or not." Reid paused, and you waved your hand, urging him to continue. He sighed. "She just... has to seem... interesting."

"Was there any more evasive answer?" you snorted, disappointed.

"Did you expect an entire essay?"

"Well, honestly, yes. Last time you talked to me for over thirty minutes about bioluminescence and what causes it. You were able to go on and on about that, but not this time?"

You knew by now you were just teasing him, playing with his nerves as if it were an instrument you'd been mastering since early childhood, attending lessons three times a week and slowly climbing the ranks of your musical career.

Your conversations often felt like a game of ping-pong, with each of you exchanging comments, remarks, observations, and verbal jabs at a pace that was downright wild. Time completely vanished for you then, feeling as though you could carry on such a dialogue forever.

"Goodnight," he finally said, without much firmness in his voice. Well, that was probably more out of practicality than a strong desire to end the chat. It was indeed late. "I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. Or you into me."

"So, you're already tired of talking to me?" you asked, feigning hurt. You even tilted your head dramatically.

For a moment, he hesitated to reply, his brown eyes nervously scanning your face, a barely noticeable smile tugging at his lips.

"Quite the opposite," he finally responded. You raised your eyebrows, not allowing yourself to feel satisfied with his words in case they turned out to be pure sarcasm. "So…goodnight."

As a result of some sort of scuffle, you found yourselves in a rather chaotic position. Well, you were definitely taking up most of the bed, comfortably sprawled in the center. He lay more on the edge, somewhere between lying on his back and on his side. Looking at him and his slightly flushed cheeks, which were quite an endearing sight, you suddenly realized the meaning of his earlier words. I hope I don't bump into you too many times during the night. So he did intend to sleep with you on this narrow bed, when there was a perfectly empty one, entirely at his disposal, just beside you? An unexpected choice, but… you weren’t complaining. In fact, you were kind of okay with it. With a slightly enigmatic expression, you leaned closer to him, intending to say something softly.

Reid perked up, as although he had officially ended the conversation, he was still curious about what you were about to say.

"Goodnight," you said slowly, inhaling the scent of his freshly washed hair. You should have moved away, giving him space to settle more comfortably, but you wouldn't be yourself if you didn't add, “Seductive beast."

“God, nothing in life will ever make me regret more than telling you about this,” he sighed, genuinely concerned about that prospect.

You let out a snort and were about to mumble something else when he, with resignation, turned fully onto his back. Well... at least he tried. He was so close to the edge of the mattress that it simply ended beneath him.

You shot up into a sitting position, startled by the sudden noise and the chaos that filled the room.

“Spencer,” you managed to gasp, jumping off the bed to check on him.

It wasn't an easy task; everything was submerged in darkness. If falling off the bed itself didn't sound like one of the most humiliating accidents a person could have, adding to it the fact that he had hit his head on the wide dresser next to the bed made it worse. And, as a result, the nightlight had been knocked over and shattered...

Fumbling, you reached for the light switch, and when the room was lit again, you moved to him. Kneeling beside Reid, who was slowly propping himself up, you gently held his shoulders.

"Careful, Jesus, you hit your head so hard..."

He squinted and furrowed most of his face, letting out a sharp breath.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, carefully inspecting his head and looking for any serious injuries, maybe some blood... but you saw nothing

Spencer looked at you with a sort of seriousness, as if the pain had suddenly faded.

"What else is it supposed to do, tickle?"

For a moment, the room fell quieter, but it was impossible to ignore the mutual sense of relief that things hadn’t turned out worse. His words threw you off a bit; at first, you didn’t fully grasp their meaning. Instead, you focused entirely on analyzing his face, his body language, his behavior. You were afraid he might have a concussion.

"I have absolutely no medical training, but..." you paused, casting another worried glance his way. Reid was slowly starting to shake off the shock and disorientation. "But judging by how quickly your sarcasm came back, I’d say you’re going to be fine."

He let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a groan.

"Doctor of the year, right here…"

Just then, a loud knock echoed on the door. The door to your room

“Is someone murdering you guys in there or what?” Morgan’s concerned voice called out.

You exchanged glances—both equally confused and, in a way, slightly terrified. Clearing your throat, you spoke up.

“Well, since I’m the reason this whole situation happened, I guess it’s on me to explain to him how it even got to this point,” you sighed. When he didn’t react, you raised your eyebrows. “No objections? No heroic offers to take this off my hands?”

“Not a chance,” he replied curtly, shaking his head before wincing briefly as another wave of pain clearly shot through it.

You told him, worried, to stay down for a little while longer for his own good.

“And as my mom used to say,” you added, slowly starting to stand, glancing briefly toward the door. Morgan knocked again—or rather, pounded on it hard enough to nearly take it off its hinges.

Taking your time, you rested both hands on Reid’s shoulders in an almost protective gesture. Completely ignoring the surprised look on his face, you brushed your lips against his forehead.

“A kiss will make it better.”

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#spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spence reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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rottenfyre · 3 days ago

Note

Do you think Bruce would introduce y/n to the justice league? I could totally see her simping over the flash (Or conner Kent 👀).

The first time you meet Conner, you’re immediately smitten. He’s tall, gorgeous, and has that perfect blend of confidence and awkward boy-next-door energy that you thrive on.

You don’t even bother introducing yourself properly. After the initial “Hey, pretty boy, wanna fuck?” incident, you lean into your new role as his unsolicited sugar mama.

Conner, tries to respond, but you’re already calculating how much of Bruce’s money you’ll need to spoil him.

During one mission, you dramatically announce, “Conner deserves everything! Clothes, gadgets, vacations—all on Daddy Bruce’s tab!”

Once, you bought him an entire motorcycle. When Bruce found out, he dragged you into the Batcave, his voice dangerously calm.

“Explain why my credit card statement says you purchased a $50,000 bike.”

“It’s for Conner. He deserves nice things.”

Bruce’s eye twitches. “Conner can fly. He doesn’t need a bike.”

You shrug. “But he looks so good on it, Bruce. Don’t be stingy.”

You’re constantly “borrowing” Bruce’s money for ridiculous things.

“Bruce, I need a million dollars.”

“For what?” he asks, already exhausted.

“To buy Conner a pony. He’s always wanted one.”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not giving you a million dollars.”

“Fine,” you huff. “But don’t come crying to me when Conner’s sad and pony-less.”

You have a love-hate relationship with Diana. You’re in awe of her beauty, strength, and grace, but you’re also deeply insecure.

During one mission, you stop mid-battle to dramatically compare your boobs to hers, much to everyone’s horror.

“Diana,” you sniff, clutching your chest, “I’ll never be able to compete with perfection like yours. It’s not fair!”

Diana, ever graceful, reassures you, “You’re beautiful in your own right.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re perfect,” you reply, before glaring at Bruce. “He never says anything nice to me.”

Bruce, utterly done: “Because you don’t deserve it.”

During a training session, you randomly grab Diana’s hand and place it on your boobs.

“Feel that, Diana. Am I Amazon material yet?”

She humors you, nodding seriously. “You’re getting there.”

You: “If I bulk up, can I join Themyscira?”

Barry finds you hilarious. He loves how unfiltered you are, even when it gets way too inappropriate.

Once, during a mission, you casually said, “Barry, do you think you could vibrate fast enough to—”

Barry, cutting you off, flailing: “DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

You just smirk. “I’m just saying. There’s potential.”

He starts speed-dodging your flirting, but you’re persistent. “One day, Speedy, you’ll come around.”

You have exactly one question for Hal when you meet him:

“So, hypothetically, could you make a functional dild—”

Hal, already holding up a hand: “Nope. Don’t even finish that thought.”

You pout. “Why do you even have the ring if you’re not going to use it creatively?”

Clark tries his best to remain polite and patient, but you test his limits.

“You must’ve been sculpted by the gods,” you tell him once, blatantly checking him out. “What’s it like being perfect, superdaddy?”

“I… um… thank you?” Clark stammers, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while Bruce glares daggers at you.

You immediately give Arthur the nickname “Aquadaddy” and refuse to call him anything else.

“Look at those arms, Aquadaddy. What’s your bench press, a blue whale?”

Arthur smirks, clearly amused. “Something like that.”

You: “Bet you could throw me across the room.”

Arthur: “Why would I do that?”

You: “For fun. And because I’d enjoy it.”

You’re also obsessed with his tattoos.

“Did it hurt? Can I touch them? Are you planning on getting more? What if we got matching ones?!”

He indulges you for about five seconds before realizing you’re just trying to find an excuse to grope his arm.

“You’re worse than Barry,” he mutters.

During an underwater mission, you accidentally blurted out, “Do mermaids exist? Be honest.”

Arthur: “They’re… complicated.”

You: “Complicated? Are they, like, your exes?”

Arthur groans, swimming away while you cackle.

You’ve made it your life’s mission to torment Bruce.

When the League gathers for a meeting, you always find a way to embarrass him. One time, you slid into the room dramatically, pointed at him, and declared, “That man is the reason I’m not married yet!”

Bruce: “How is this my fault?”

You grin. “Because I’ll never find another man who looks as good in a suit. You’ve ruined my standards.”

You are Bruce’s biggest headache. Every time he turns around, you’re doing something wildly inappropriate.

During a League movie night, you plop yourself on the floor between his legs, resting your head on his thigh.

“Your thighs are so firm, Bruce. You ever think about becoming a leg model?”

Bruce just stares down at you, utterly done. “Go sit somewhere else.”

You grin up at him. “Nope. This is my spot now.”

As unhinged as you are, everyone in the League has a soft spot for you. You make them laugh, even if it’s at Bruce’s expense.

And while your antics are embarrassing for Bruce, they all know you’re a fierce fighter and incredibly loyal. When it matters, you’ve got their backs—and they wouldn’t trade you for anything.

Except Bruce. Bruce would absolutely trade you for five minutes of peace.

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celiababy · 1 day ago

Text

Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

#smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #drabble #I need him so carnally

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lovesickhughes · 3 days ago

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A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS — jack hughes x reader

a/n: hello again!! i am so sorry for the delay on publishing fics for the christmas collection! finals szn came and went and then i had major writer’s block last week, so that delayed my writing, BUT!! i am finally done exams and now back to regular scheduled programming. this is only my second smut piece, and i’m still figuring out my style and what i enjoy writing, so please beware and be kind! more to come soon, i hope you enjoy!!

tags: jack hughes x reader

warnings: 18+ material — oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink (please lmk if i missed anything!)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jack loved spoiling Y/n with gifts, despite her constant protests every time a random bouquet of flowers appeared on the dining room table after she got home from a day out, or how almost every time he would come home from a long away-game stretch; he’d greet her alongside a gift he had found during his time away. Y/n was greatly appreciative of his gift giving, and repeatedly told Jack ‘he didn’t have to,’ but all she would receive in return would be a shrug of his shoulders or a remark along the lines of he ��did it because he wanted to.’

And she would have thought that over the years it would slowly dissipate, especially around the holidays– considering it was the season of giving and that was part of what Christmas entailed– but, here she was with a velvet red gift bag placed on her lap with holiday themed tissue paper.

“Jack, what did I say this year about the random gifts?” Y/n softly whined, her voice filled with warmth.

The brunette snickered from across from her, seated in the corner of the L-shaped couch, the plush cushions engulfing his frame. As Y/n looked over at him with her eyes squinted in skepticism, she took in his appearance, his body covered in a pair of black joggers, paired with a light brown hoodie that made him look as comfortable and cozy as he could be; his lucious brown hair was messy under his white baseball cap that he wore backwards on his head, the brown tips of his hair sticking out the sides and back.

“I know you said no surprise gifts before Christmas, but this one’s different,” he assured, raising his hand out to her. Y/n tilted her head to the side, even more concerned at what was waiting to be revealed. “We’re both going to like this one.” He continued with a small smirk on his face, his tongue toying with the inside of his lip as he attempted to contain his grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/n asked, her voice hesitant as she anticipated the reveal, and all Jack gave was a reassuring nod to prompt her to open the gift.

Delicately pulling the tissue paper out of the bag, she began to see what appeared to be a dark green box, and immediately her brows furrowed in confusion as to what it would be. Typically Y/n was able to identify any gift she received from any friend or family member, simply by the shape of the packaging, but from Jack, a narrow, medium sized box that contained something she was able to tell was light when she lifted it out of the bag, completely threw off her perception.

Y/n had placed the gift bag on the floor, next to her feet and balled up the tissue paper, throwing it into the bag, balancing the covered box on her knees before her. Lifting the lid of the box and letting the hollow bottom slowly slide off as gravity pulled it down, she slowly placed the lid to the side and investigated what looked to be a piece of dark red fabric.

Y/n looked up to Jack for answers through her eyes; narrow and brows pulled together in confusion, “and this is supposed to be…” Y/n trailed off, waiting for Jack to give her an answer.

“You’ll see, baby, just keep opening the gift.” He encouraged, now shifting himself forward to rest his elbows on his knees in anticipation for Y/n to figure out what he had gifted her with.

She shook her head with a smile breaking through her mouth at her giddy boyfriend who looked like a kid in a candy shop as he watched. Y/n’s eyes avert back down to the box, and she reaches for the fabric that was neatly folded in the velvet interior of the box.

As she pulled the fabric out, holding it between two fingers, she let it fall out in length and immediately it was like a lightbulb had been lit in her mind, cluing into what he had gotten her as a present.

Before her, Y/n held a new lingerie set.

When she looked over to Jack, now holding the see-through lace, a proud, smug smirk had already erupted on his face as she came to the realization.

“You got me lingerie?” She questioned to confirm what rested in her hands, still in disbelief at the surprising gesture.

Jack nodded proudly, “Mhm, y’know I had been thinking that I don’t remember you having a red set,” he paused, his eyes darting up as he acted as if he was blissfully previewing the mental image of her in a revealing piece of lingerie, “and I thought red was a pretty festive colour, so why not give you an early Christmas gift.” Jack stated proudly, a wide grin on his face as he quickly swept off his backwards hat to run a hand through his hair.

For whatever reason that she couldn’t quite pinpoint, the smug, ego-filled look on Jack’s face rubbed her in a way that a craving for revenge started to erupt through her veins. He thought he could be sneaky enough to get her all flustered with the romantic gesture, that she wouldn’t know what to do with it or herself, but unbeknownst to Jack, in that moment she wanted nothing more than to get back at him, and have him a stuttering, breathless mess.

“Thank you, J, it’s beautiful.” Y/n thanked with a soft, sweet voice, blinking her eyes in his direction with a bit more emphasis than usual.

“Of course, babe, anything for you.” He mumbled as he came in to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

Quickly, Y/n turned her head to his, reaching her own hand to his jaw to stop him from turning away before she meet his lips, placing an intimate kiss filled with electricity on his soft lips.

“Why don’t you stay here for just a sec, babe, I wanna see if this fits, then if I need a different size, we can get a different one.” Y/n said as she gave him another quick peck to the lips and raised a hand to rub his broad chest, feeling the toned muscles under the fabric of his hoodie.

Jack hummed in approval before leaning back onto the couch with his hands placed behind his head to support his neck as he slowly watched her get up from the couch, feeling his gaze bleed through her as she walked down the hallway to the shared bedroom to change.

While discarding her current clothes and slipping on the red lace, Y/n mentally cursed Jack for being almost too thoughtful, both of them knowing he knew the exact size she needed. But, Y/n didn’t want to let him get away that easy; to think he had won this unspoken battle of who would unfold first, so to heat the moment up, she quickly padded over to her bed, crawling onto the cushiony mattress and sprawled out on the plush duvet cover, posing in a way Y/n knew would catch Jack’s attention.

“Hey, Jack! Can you come and help me? I can’t get this last clasp.” She called out to Jack who still was seated in the living room, waiting for her grand reveal. Y/n bit her lip in excitement as she heard his sock-clad feet pad along the hardwood floor, the sound increasingly getting louder the closer he got to the room, her blood vibrated with anticipation and lust as she knew the consequences of her actions that were about to come for teasing Jack.

“You sure there’s a clasp, babe? I didn’t think–” Jack started as he turned into the bedroom, his voice immediately coming to a halt when he came face to face with Y/n posed on the bed, in the lace outfit that barely covered her body. “Oh.” Was all Jack said as he stood in place next to the door, arms dropped to his sides with his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Y/n pulled herself up to her knees and faced Jack’s frame from the bed, her arms attempting to reach behind her body. “Yeah, I thought y’know, there was a clasp near the bra area I needed to do up when I put it on… I can’t seem to get it though…” Y/n trailed off, giving Jack a different energy as she batted her eyelashes in his direction and biting the inside of her lip.

Jack had a different expression on his face now, one that was more lustful, his eyes seemed more dark with hunger, and she watched as his tongue trailed his bottom lip as his eyes never left hers. He slowly inched forward, quickly pulling off his hat to reveal his messy– but perfect– brown curls, and when he reached the side of the bed, closest to where Y/n sat, his arms reached out to her, while his fingers slowly danced on the side of her torso and pulling Y/n to turn around and have her back to him.

“Why don’t you let me help with that then,” Jack said alluringly, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Y/n’s body was now flush against Jack’s broad chest before he delicately leaned her forward to investigate the back of the lingerie piece, and her hands caught her weight, placing them on either side of her knees that were bent underneath her frame.

Y/n’s breaths had changed their rhythm, now more slow but jagged as she focused on the feeling of Jack’s calloused hands slowly rubbing up and down her sides as he looked for the mentioned clasp. She could even hear his own deep breathing, each of them not needing words to explain how either of them were feeling.

Jack hummed slowly, “Hmm, doesn’t seem like there is one.”

Y/n turned back around to face him, his figure towering over her as she looked up at him from the bed. “Oh, well that’s okay, it still fits amazing,” She assured, before a smirk pulled to her face, “what do you think, J?” She asked slowly as she dragged out the question, knowing her seductive tactics were becoming more effective.

Jack snickered to himself, his tongue toying with the inside of his cheek and his one hand finding its place on her hip, tightly gripping the exposed skin.

“I mean, baby, this is…” he trailed off, not being able to formulate the correct words to describe his feeling, “wow, I mean– you look stunning… I can’t even put it into words, you’re just making me think all kinds of nonsense right now.” He said as his thumb rubbed small circles on her hip bone, making butterflies erupt all throughout her body. He let out a breath, “I can’t even begin to explain what this is doing to me– and what I want to do to you– you are just… fuck, you are so gorgeous, babe.” He exasperated and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing her attempts at making him flustered were working in her favour.

“Well, why don’t you just show me what this is making you want to do to me?” She asked softly, her own hand reaching up to the side of his face to caress his cheek and jawline. Jack leaned into her touch, a small chuckle falling off his tongue as he smiled with his eyes closed.

“Oh yeah?” Jack questioned.

It wasn’t long until his eyes were back on Y/n, filled with lust and determination as he leaned down to place a kiss on her lips. This kiss was different, though. It was filled with desire, the type of kiss that was addictive and caused her to crave more and more. Y/n’s breath hitched as Jack deepened the kiss, her hands balancing her weight as she leaned back onto them as Jack continued to lean forward into the kiss, his hands finding either side of her face. Jack continued to kiss Y/n with need, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip before slipping into her mouth and dancing with her own, earning a moan to fall from her throat.

Jack pulled away to stare into Y/n’s eyes, his lips now a darker shade of pink; swollen and wet from the contact with hers. His hands that were on her face, now trailed down to her waist, guiding Y/n farther back on the mattress as he followed to hover over her frame. He stood on his knees above her, Y/n’s legs trapped between his as she watched his every move. He reached for the hem of his hoodie with either arm, crossing his hands and swiftly pulling off the fabric to reveal his toned body.

He reached back down to her figure, his lips finding hers once again as his hands were placed on either side of her shoulders to hold himself over. His one hand lifted to come to Y/n’s side, gripping her skin with his calloused hand, earning a response from her body as her back arched, pushing her closer to his frame.

Jack pulled away from Y/n’s lips, earning a whine from her at the loss of contact before his lips attached to her jawline, kissing upward towards her ear with soft, slow kisses against the skin. When he reached her ear, she could hear his staggered breath as his lips reached for just below her ear, placing a long, wet kiss on the sensitive spot, making sure to suck lightly before making his way down her neckline.

When he reached her collarbone and gave it the desired amount of kisses, he pulled away, looking up to Y/n who had never let her eyes drift away from his movements. He quickly leaned in for a peck to the lips before his hands found their way to each of the straps on the lingerie.

“Y’know, as much as I love this set on you, baby,” he began, his fingers hooking under the shoulder straps, “fuck, is it ever making me want to rip it off of you.” He chuckled. Y/n smiled to herself as she watched Jack slide the red lace off of her figure, pulling it past her arms and down her torso, eventually leaving Y/n bare beneath him. Feeling exposed, her arms begin to cross to cover herself, but that was quickly stopped by Jack’s hands, who pinned them against her own body. “Don’t.” Was all Jack said, but she knew what he meant. He leaned forward, down so close to her head so that his mouth was right beside her ear, “why don’t I make you feel as good as seeing you in that little outfit made me feel.” He prompted, earning a nod from Y/n. Jack’s lips attached back onto her neck, more quickly this time trailing down to her collarbone before moving down her chest even further until her breasts were directly in his line of sight.

She silently watched Jack, her bottom lip between her teeth as her chest heaved up and down in anticipation.

“Hmm?” Jack hummed as he looked up at her, his mouth just inches away from her nipples that urged for some sort of stimulation, making her squirm underneath his figure. “You want me to make you feel good?” He asked softly, his voice hoarse from whispering.

Y/n nodded her head desperately, wanting some sort of feeling of release from Jack, but he only tilted his head.

“Use your words, Y/n.” He continued, prompting Y/n to respond as his large, warm hands found each of her breasts, cupping the soft skin in his own.

“Yes, Jack, please.” Y/n urged, her back pushing off the mattress

“Please what, baby. Use your words.” He continued, making Y/n throw her head back in frustration and she could feel Jack’s smirk on his face as he rested his chin on her sternum.

Y/n looked back up to Jack, whose eyes never left hers. “Please make me feel good.” She whined, a small pout forming on her lip and it was like a switch for Jack to begin sending pleasure throughout her body. Instantly his lips found her one nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue along the sensitive tip, earning a loud moan to release from Y/n’s mouth at the burst of pleasure that erupted through her veins. His other hand occupied her other breast that wasn’t receiving attention from his mouth, rolling her sensitive bud between his fingers, making Y/n moan and squirm underneath his touch.

Slowly, his head moved further down her body until she could feel his warm breath on each of her thighs, the contrast of his rough hands gripping the soft skin of her inner thighs sent shivers throughout her body, and when Jack began placing delicate kissing trailing from her inner thighs to her core, the feeling of his tongue on her pussy felt electric– sending shocks of pleasure through her body.

Jack worked effortlessly to make Y/n feel good, his tongue working in rhythms and in response to her body’s language; the squeeze of her thighs against his head, how her hand flew to his brown locks– gripping in pleasure as the knot in her stomach tightened– and the rolling of her hips as he continued to devour her like it was his last meal.

“God, Jack, I’m close,” Y/n whimpered, feeling the climax of her orgasm slowly building as tingles fled through her veins. In response, she heard him hum and mumble words of encouragement, sending vibrations through her core and body. “Jack,” She called out again to let him know the knot in her stomach was about to come undone, but before her orgasm would flood through her body with euphoria, Y/n felt the cold air hit her pussy as Jack pulled away. He pulled himself up to meet her face and she squirmed under his body at the loss of contact.

Whining in desperation, she reached an arm up to the nape of his neck and lightly tug at the curls as he leans down, catching his weight with either arms beside her head, and meets her lips, Y/n’s slick that had transferred to his chin now rubbing against her own skin.

Jack pulls away, a grin on his face as he looks into her eyes, “I’ll let you come, Y/n, don’t worry about that.” He assured as his finger fell under her chin and tilted her head up. “But I want you to come all over my cock so you can feel how you in the little red piece makes me feel.”

Y/n was left with her mouth agape, laying under Jack’s frame as she took in his words. While processing her own thoughts, Jack quickly slipped out of his pants and boxers, stroking his hard-on a few times as he adjusted himself at her entrance.

As he slowly pressed into her, sliding in and filling her out, Y/n’s mouth fell further open than before, and she moaned at the feeling of Jack bottoming her out fully. Her hand found his own wrist that was planted next to her hip and grip his forearm tightly as they both adjusted to his size.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Jack groaned as he looked down to Y/n with hooded eyes, and she nodded in encouragement for him to begin thrusting.

Immediately Jack begins to slowly pull away and before she can decipher the feeling, Y/n was welcomed with deep, thorough strokes and the sound of Jack’s skin slapping against hers.

Her hand found her own clit to send a pulse of pleasure through her veins as Jack began to increase the speed of his movements, and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he focused on the sight below him and his thrusts, concentrating on the noises that fell from Y/n’s lips with each stroke.

“Jack,” she called out, unable to form a complete sentence as the pleasure that was erupting through her body consumed her. Jack's deep thrusts had now increased into a rhythm that left her at a loss for words. All that consumed the bedroom was the sound of their bodies intertwining and pleasure filling each of their bodies.

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” Jack asked through staggered breaths, his own rhythm quickening his heart rate. “You look perfect taking my cock so good– such a good girl takin’ all of me.” He continued, clearly in a state of bliss as his own orgasm approached.

“Jack, fuck–” Y/n called out to him, her eyes tightly shut as she focused on the orgasm that was on the brink of consuming her whole body. “Please, Jack, I’m gonna come.” She moaned, her head thrown back onto the pillows beneath her head as she felt the knot in her stomach release and the rush of euphoria, flooding her body and sending tingles all throughout.

Y/n continued to whimper at the sensitive feelings as Jack continues to thrust, his own climax soon following after, and he remains in her for a moment to gather himself before slowly pulling out, earning a soft whimper from Y/n at the loss of fullness and slight ache from the fresh contact.

Jack quickly plants a kiss on her lips before he slips off the bed to reach for the nightstand beside the mattress that has a soft cloth they kept at arm's length in case of needing to clean any messes from their adventures together.

It wasn’t long after that Y/n found herself in a drowsy state, laying her head against Jack’s broad chest, his bare skin warm and covered with a thin layer of sweat from his prior movements. Jack’s hands found her hip, tracing small, soft and delicate shapes against her skin. Each of them laid in each other’s comfort, silence falling over the room as she came back to her senses.

“So, what I’m gathering is I need more lingerie in my closet to make you pull that side of you out again.” Y/n chuckled as she looked up to meet Jack’s eyes.

A smug smile erupted on his face, his thoughts clearly tracing back to the mental image of Y/n in her new outfit. “There’s no point.” Jack shrugged.

She squinted her eyes and pulled her lips into a flat line, “and why’s that?” She pressed.

Jack only chuckled, “because it’ll be off more often than you’d wear it.” Earning a playful scoff and swat of her hand to the brunette.

#jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #nhl imagine

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nuttersincorporated · 9 minutes ago

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Some of you have only watched The Muppet Christmas Carol, not read the original story and it shows. I LOVE The Muppet Christmas Carol! It is be far the best movie adaptation of A Christmas Carol but the original story is still superior.

Listen, you can’t compare Scrooge to modern CEOs. He was ALWAYS better than them, even at the start of the story where he’s a jerk. No, Scrooge did not need to see people happy at his death before he was willing to change.

Seriously, the story is public domain and not that long. There are free versions online to read and/or listen to.

The original story does a better job of showing how Scrooge became the man he was and how the Ghosts helped him change for the better.

In the book, young Scrooge was basically abandoned at school by his father, who was a cruel man. He was the only child left at school over Christmas, so never had the chance to celebrate it. He read fairy tales and dreamed of mythical characters.

When old Scrooge saw his younger self alone at Christmas, he thought about a boy who’d been carolling at his door earlier. He wished he’d been kinder to that child.

One year, his younger sister Fran (the one family member who ever truly loved and who he loved) came to pick him up. She said their father had changed for the better and he could come home. His younger self was overjoyed.

Scrooge used to love the Fezziwig Christmas Party. The Ghost of Christmas Past pointed out that it wasn’t a very expensive party but Scrooge said that wasn’t the point. It was kind and fun and… oh, suddenly he wished he could have a word with his own employee.

Scrooge used to love Bell but became more and more money focused so she left him.

When the Ghost of Christmas Present came along. Scrooge learned how wonderful Christmas could be. He saw people being kind, even though they gained nothing from it. He saw people in need and realised he had the power to help them. He had his own cruel words thrown back at him and realised how horrible they were.

When they went to Fred’s Christmas party, Scrooge had a wonderful time. He didn’t even take officen when – in the guessing game – Fred referred to him as an ‘unwanted animal’. He could tell it was all in fun and that Fred was serious when he said he really wished Scrooge would accept his invitation one of these days.

By the time the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come came along, Scrooge had already decided to become a better person.

Scrooge didn’t immediately make the connection between himself and the dead man everyone hated was because he assumed that his future self was off somewhere else doing good deeds. He kept looking around for his future self, to see what good he was doing. It was only at the graveyard he realised this was what his future would have been if hadn’t already made the decision to change.

TL;DR the last ghost might be needed for modern CEOs. However, I doubt all three together would make a difference because they are worse than Scrooge. Also, while the last ghost reenforced things, Scrooge had already seen the error of his ways and decided to change.

#a christmas carol #christmas #the muppet christmas carol #charles dickens #long post #Every year I see the take that Scrooge only changed when he saw the future #Humbug #Humbug! I say!#Humbug: a word that used to mean 'liar' 'falshood' and/or 'charlatan'#If you say Scrooge needed the last ghost to even consider changing #I call you a humbug #Because you are either a lair misrepresenting the story #Or a charlatan pretending you’ve read a story you haven’t #Either way YOU are the humbug #Not Scrooge

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morganaawriterr · 1 day ago

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Bathing with Ni-ki;

Pairing; fem!reader x cute boyfriend! Nishimura Riki Synopsis; In a tender moment, you and Ni-ki share an intimate bath, exchanging teasing touches, and sweet kisses. Genre; Fluff. But a bit suggestive. Warning; None (?) A bit of sexy tension because... you and him are naked.. (?)

A/N: I've had this idea for a few days and couldn't rest until it was finished, so here it is. I wanted it to be longer but whatever. It's still cute and intimate and that was the main goal! Likes and reblogs are always welcome, thank you so much!

As you stepped into the warm, soapy water, you immediately felt your body relax, loving the way it wrapped around you. You sat down in the tub, planning to wait for your boyfriend, but since he would take a while, you decided to start the bath by yourself. This way, when he arrived, you’d only need to focus on taking care of him—because knowing Ni-ki, he would ask you to wash his hair.

This wasn’t the first time you and Ni-ki had showered together, but last time it was a shower, and now it was a bath. And it seemed more intimate to you, so you felt a bit shy just thinking about it. Pushing those thoughts aside, you continued washing up. As you finished rinsing your hair, your boyfriend appeared.

Ni-ki entered the bathroom in just his underwear. His eyes immediately scanned the room, and when they met yours, he gave you a sly smile. Your eyes travelled along his body while he kept his gaze locked on you, waiting to see your reaction. You quickly turned your head away, closing your eyes and laughing.

“Come on, hurry up!” you said in a playful tone, knowing he was teasing you on purpose.

“Why are you closing your eyes? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” Riki joked, but you didn’t look at him. Instead, you stayed still, looking off to the side and laughing. It was true, of course, but it still made you shy.

You only looked in Ni-ki’s direction once you heard him settle into the tub, his movements causing ripples in the water. When you finally turned to face him, you noticed only half of his torso was submerged, his skin glowing in the water’s reflections. He was smiling like a kid, savoring this precious moment with just the two of you.

Sitting across from him, you admired how childlike he looked, his arms resting beneath the water shyly. Then he spread his legs, signaling you it was time to change positions. Slowly, you lifted yourself and turned around, resting your back against his chest and your head on his shoulder as you nestled between his legs. Your feet planted themselves on the tub’s bottom, and you curled your legs against your torso.

Your boyfriend’s large hands quickly wrapped around your waist, savoring the calmness and warmth of your body against his. He then moved slowly, kissing your hair sweetly before nuzzling his face into your neck, his nose brushing against your skin lovingly.

“I love this,” Riki confessed, a smile on his lips as his hand softly caressed your cheek with his thumb.

You turned to face him. “Me too,” you replied, giggling when he brushed his nose against your ear.

“But we do have limited time. Remember what Jungwon said?” you reminded him, your hand now travelling to his handsome face, his oreo hair still completely dry.

“I know,” he said in a low voice, sulking.

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, soaking in each other’s presence and warmth. His long fingers gently caressed your sides under the water while your head rested on his shoulder, your eyes closed.

“Your hair smells so nice!” Riki said near your ear, inhaling deeply. “Can you wash my hair, please?” he asked excitedly, loving the way your gentle fingers always left his hair feeling perfect.

“How can I say no to you?” you teased, nodding. You signaled for him to turn around and move back a little to give you room to wet his hair and he did obediently.

“You have to go lower,” you complained with a laugh. His head was too far from the water because of how tall he was, so he let himself nearly fall backwards onto you until his head was almost submerged.

You couldn’t resist how cute he looked—eyes closed, lips slightly pouting, and his head completely wet. Gently, your fingers moved over his scalp, ensuring his hair was fully soaked so the shampoo would work better. Without him noticing, you leaned down and gave him a soft, upside-down kiss on his plump lips.

Ni-ki opened his eyes, surprised, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Smiling, you pulled him upright to start washing his hair.

“Use your shampoo, please…” Ni-ki asked, pouting. He loved smelling like you—it made him feel close to you at all times.

“Of course, baby boy,” you teased him, knowing he hated the nickname. But he let it slide, enjoying the moment. Carefully, you lathered his hair with your shampoo, the scent of fresh fruit filling the bathroom. Your skilled fingers gently massaged and cleaned his hair, bringing a sense of calmness and safety to him. You gently gather his front hair and massage it a bit more, noticing his bleached hair is starting to feel stronger.

“You’re so good at this…” Ni-ki said in a low voice, his deep tone sending shivers through you. Flustered, you felt your cheeks warm as you continued. Once his hair was fully washed, he dunked his head under the water to rinse, your hands still massaging his scalp.

The sight before you was breathtaking: his muscular body covered in bubbles, water drops rolling down his abs before disappearing under the water. Your mind wandered, and your cheeks burned even redder.

Ni-ki opened his eyes to find you staring, your mouth slightly open. Smirking, he teased, “You okay, baby?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, laughing lightly. “You just look so good, I was—”

“I know what you were thinking…” Riki interrupted, his tone teasing as he turned to face you. For the first time, he allowed himself to fully take in your beauty.

The water rested just below your chest, exposing your neck and shoulders your skin getting goosebumps under his intense gaze. Your wet hair was pushed back, making you look even more stunning. Slowly, Ni-ki’s hands reached for your waist, pulling you closer so he could seal your lips with a kiss.

You can feel his bare skin against yours, his lean abdomen against yours, your chest firmly pressed against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to share his skin with you so you can be impossibly closer. His lips are slow but hungry against yours, devouring you with eagerness you have never seen before, his tongue carefully fighting yours to gain dominance.

Pulling back for air, Ni-ki admired you—head tilted back, eyes closed, and lips swollen. He could feel your rapid heartbeat against his chest.

“Y’all better hurry up!” Heesung yelled from outside, startling both of you. “I NEED TO USE THE TOILET!”

The urgency in his voice made you and Ni-ki laugh, breaking the mood. You stood up, stepping out of the tub to wrap yourself in a towel.

Your legs felt like jelly, and your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. Your hands trembled slightly, the intimate moment with Ni-ki still vivid in your mind as you shyly dried yourself.

Ni-ki stayed behind, finishing his bath while regaining his composure. After a few minutes, as you slipped on one of his t-shirts, he appeared behind you, his tall frame looming over you. You turned around, only to be met with the sight of a wet Riki, a towel wrapped low on his hips. You gulped, your eyes instinctively traveling up and down his body, your breath caught in your throat.

“We… huh…” you stammered. “We have to go… Heesung needs…” Your eyes locked with Riki’s, his gaze so intense that it robbed you of the ability to form coherent words. “Heesung needs to come here,” you finally managed to say, your voice quivering as you bit your bottom lip.

Riki leaned forward, his tender lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Give me five minutes to dress, princess.”

Turning away, flustered, you tried to compose yourself, but the mirror in front of you betrayed you, reflecting every moment. Quietly, you watched as he dressed, unable to tear your eyes away. Speechless, you absorbed every movement until, within a few minutes, he was fully dressed.

As the both of you leave the bathroom, Heesung is waiting by the door.

“What happened in there?” Heesung asked with a smirk, noticing how you avoided Ni-ki’s gaze.

Looking at Heesung, Ni-ki smirked back, his hand resting on your lower back. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, comment below!

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voidoffline · 23 hours ago

Text

I would gladly walk into a library and ask for books about cannibalism, more importantly how to cook human meat safely. Because I do it for writing purposes and like, yeah sure I could just try and go to tend million different websites and quora and Reddit asks to see if there’s any secret cannibals I can find and see what their thoughts are on what human meat tastes like and all the best ways to cook it

But like it would be a lot more convenient if a bunch of that info was all in one book

That being said. What are the cannibal books called I need to know if those are real. If so I will be finding and reading them. If not I will be mildly disappointed and then immediately forget about this

newbie asked if we're supposed to look out for 'red flags' in interlibrary loan requests in reference to a request a patron had made for a book about cannibalism. she was looking expectantly at me like she was expecting me to be equally aghast at this........girl why would you work at a library if you want to play book police

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capquinn · 2 days ago

Note

I think abt decorating the apartment with Quinn and then he tricks you into getting under the mistletoe with him and goes “oh you remember the rules”

blushing and kicking my feet picturing this. what a sweet thought 😭🥹

It happens when you least expect it.

One moment, you’re carefully arranging stockings along the mantle — because Quinn’s first attempt had them completely uneven and absolutely not aesthetically pleasing — and the next, he’s suddenly loitering in the doorway to the kitchen with that look on his face. The one that says he’s up to something.

“Hey, can you come here for a sec?” he calls, his tone so casual it immediately puts you on edge.

You glance over your shoulder, already suspicious. “If you’ve tangled the lights again…”

He laughs, shaking his head, hands tucked behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Nope. Lights are good. Just come here.”

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”

“I’m not up to anything,” he insists, but his grin is too big, too playful to be convincing.

Against your better judgment, you leave the stockings and make your way toward him. The closer you get, the more obvious it becomes that he’s hiding something.

“Alright,” you say, stopping just shy of the doorway. “What is it?”

He tilts his head ever so slightly, feigning innocence as his gaze flicks upward.

That’s when you see it: the small sprig of mistletoe dangling right above where he’s standing.

Your jaw drops as you look back at him, and he’s already grinning, the picture of shameless mischief.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he says, glancing up toward the mistletoe like it’s just magically appeared, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

“You actually put up mistletoe,” you say, crossing your arms but stepping closer anyway.

He nods, completely unfazed. “It’s festive. Classic. Very on theme,” he says, his tone so casual it’s almost believable. Almost.

“All this just to sneak a kiss?” you tease, shaking your head, though you can’t stop the grin that creeps in.

He shrugs, the picture of feigned nonchalance, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that gives him away. As you come to a stop in front of him, his hands slide to your waist, his touch light but firm enough to pull you closer.

“You know the rules,” he murmurs, his lips quirking up in that boyish grin that always gets to you.

You roll your eyes but don’t pull away, letting his thumbs brush against your sides as his nose dips, brushing against yours.

“Feels a little desperate, Quinn,” you tease softly, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he murmurs, dipping his head slightly to press a quick kiss to your hair. His breath is warm, the soft affection in the gesture making your stomach flip in that familiar way only he can manage.

“Very smooth,” you say, tipping your head back to meet his gaze, eyes sparkling. “Did you rehearse this?”

He hums thoughtfully, his forehead dropping to rest lightly against yours. “You think I need to rehearse to get a kiss from you?”

“Maybe,” you tease back, your lips twitching. “Depends on how much you want it.”

His laugh is quiet, his nose brushing against yours again before his lips find your cheek. “More than you’d think,” he says softly, his voice dropping just enough to send a warmth blooming in your chest.

You lean into him now, your hands curling into the fabric of his sweater. “So what now, Hughes? Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna—”

Before you can finish, his lips are on yours, soft and deliberate, stealing the rest of your words in a kiss that’s as playful as it is tender. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you closer with a quiet ease, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your side. The kiss deepens naturally, unhurried and warm, his nose brushing against yours in a way that feels achingly intimate. There’s no rush, just the quiet certainty of his touch, his lips lingering on yours like he’s savouring the moment, like he doesn’t want it to end. When he finally pulls back, his breath mingles with yours, and the faintest smile curves his lips — soft, teasing, a little smug.

“Still think it’s desperate?” he murmurs, his voice low, warm, and entirely too pleased with himself.

“Maybe,” you reply, breathless but grinning, rising onto your toes. You press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips, just enough to leave him leaning in for more. “But it’s working for you.”

#i talk a lot about kissing his pretty face but bf!quinn defs loves kissing reader's face just as much #capquinn's requests #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinnmas #capquinn's writing

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the-clumsywitchtarot · 3 days ago

Text

What Will Make Your Future Husband Fall in Love with You? Pick-a-Card Reading

(Tarot & Oracle)

Because you're obviously amazing. But let's see exactly what's going to steal his heart!

Cards

2 of Wands (Reversed)

Queen of Wands

2 of Swords

Oracle Card

Love is in the Air

I really feel like your husband will fall in love with you at first sight, I feel like he'll see you and immediately find you attractive and then think to himself okay well she's beautiful but what are the odds that we actually have some sort of chemistry. And then he begins talking to you and it's like oh my goodness, I found the one! Just you being you is going to make him fall in love with you, he's going to feel like he's finally found that needle in a haystack that he's been looking for. I feel like from the moment of your first conversation onward he's only ever going to have eyes for you. Literally everything about you is going to make him fall in love with you, the way you laugh, the way you stare off into thought, even the quirky things that you find annoying about yourself is going to make him fall in love with you.

With the oracle card you got I feel like you are close to meeting this person!

Cards

6 of Cups (Reversed)

5 of Swords (Reversed)

Page of Pentacles

Oracle Card

Becoming Nobody

First and foremost your future husband will fall in love with the fact that you are drama free. You are someone that likes to converse instead of fight. If you and your husband are having issues, you will ask him to talk them through with you. Instead of you guy's fighting and screaming at each other. You will make your future husband feel very secure in your marriage. He will always know where he stands with you and the status of you guy's relationship, he really values and loves that along with your ability to receive without draining him.

I know the oracle card you got may seem a bit alarming but I feel in your case it's saying that you are not attached to one way of being or thinking at the moment. You are open to new concepts and ways of living right now.

Cards

9 of Swords (Reversed)

The Hierophant (Reversed)

Wheel of Fortune (Reversed)

Oracle Card

Gentleness

I feel like your future husband will fall in love with your ability to spin a bad situation into an opportunity. I'm not quite getting optimist, to me an optimist is someone that believes things will work out. But you are someone that forces things to work out no matter how bleak things look. Your future husband will love that he will be able to come to you with a problem and next thing he knows, he has the solution with steps and instructions. With the hierophant in reverse, I feel like you resolve problems in rather unconventional ways, but it somehow always works out.

I feel like your oracle card is saying that you are someone that gets stuff done, no matter how difficult. But you still maintain a gentle spirit.

I hope your reading resonated and please feel free to leave a comment!

-Erika, The Clumsy Witch

#tarot readers of tumblr #the clumsy witch #the clumsy witch tarot #tarot reader #black tarot readers #tarot #black witches of tumblr #pick a card #pick a card tarot #pick a card tarot reading #future husband pick a card reading #future husband reading #future husband #divination

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chancloud8 · 24 hours ago

Text

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summery: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago.

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake.

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better.

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately.

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know.

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen.

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you.

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’

Damnit. That actually made sense.

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t.

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming.

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she?

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart.

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy.

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you.

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you.

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder.

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words.

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest.

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building.

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you.

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women.

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards?

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously.

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you.

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles.

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music.

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it.

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it.

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office.

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word.

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm.

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly.

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working.

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office.

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards.

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair.

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small.

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him.

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours.

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking?

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble.

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman.

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough.

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles.

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards.

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen.

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you.

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out.

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well.

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says.

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins.

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow.

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness.

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later.

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’

Fuck. Of course he is.

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks.

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one.

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else.

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are.

Oh just you wait and see buddy.

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him.

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket.

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground.

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways.

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you.

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen.

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them.

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you.

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you.

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same.

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended.

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man.

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you.

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside.

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all.

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look.

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind.

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him.

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door.

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’

‘I guess,’ you mumble.

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer.

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right.

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris.

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work.

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again.

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine.

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too?

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen.

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands.

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists.

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him.

‘You knew about this?’

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes.

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now.

��If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath.

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will.

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you.

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck.

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it.

Oh hell no.

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

#stray kids fanfic #ot8 x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #ot8 bodyguard au #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader #idol!reader #chancloud8 writes

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suugarbabe · 3 days ago

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curls || mattheo riddle

summary: you couldn't help yourself, you just had to fix them. it's not like he seemed to mind your fingers in his hair anyway.

an: another yap fic courtesy of me and @musingsofahufflepuff ; you're welcome. had to include the pic because if you have brown curly hair i'm in love with you.

warnings: none; just fluffy goofiness.

Staring wasn’t usually an issue for you. Typically you could take your glances here and there and still focus on what you needed to do. But today, you just couldn’t turn away.

Mattheo wasn't your boyfriend. He wasn't even really your friend...you didn't think at least. You weren't in his little group of pals. But he also didn't ignore you like he did most people.

People often thought it was strange how nice he was to you. Not that he ever really sought you out or anything, but if your paths crossed he would say hello to you, would smile at you even.

You knew he was attractive, and your friends were convinced that he thought you were too. Of course you brushed those off. However if he was your boyfriend your current irritation could be fixed without question.

Mattheo's hair looked flat as hell.

The top of his head looked like he'd been wearing an American baseball cap for about a week straight. His hair seemingly flat around his skull and his curls twisting at the ends.

It really was a shame. If he would just fluff his roots his entire hair would come back to life, you were sure of it. But you couldn't just jump the desk in front of you to get to him, rifle your own fingers through his scalp and revive his ringlets.

"Alright everyone! Partner up, partner up!" Slughorn waved his hands in the air, dismissing the class to form pairs for brewing Draught of the Living Death.

Immediately you rounded your table, lightly grabbing his elbow. Mattheo turned towards you at your touch, a grin forming on his lips. "Partners?" You asked, hoping your look didn't appear to pleading.

"Sure thing, babe," Mattheo responded without hesitation, pulling the stool next to him out for you before grabbing your books from your previous table.

Throughout the potion preparation you kept stealing glances at him. Er, well, his hair. You did need to brew the potion, but you'd be damned if you left this lesson without correcting his curls.

"Have I got something on my face?" Mattheo jested. You laughed lightly, shaking your head before picking up the last of the ingredients to toss them in the cauldron.

Mattheo began to sir, the color of the potion changing correctly with what you both were doing. And you were staring again. You knew it. You knew he could feel it because he was grinning once more.

"Can I just.." you pointed somewhat shyly at his head. Mattheo cocked his head slightly, giving a small nod.

You let out a sigh of relief, lifting your hands and quickly threading your fingers between curls and to his scalp. As you fluff his hair, nails scratching as his scalp slightly, Mattheo's eyes almost involuntarily roll.

"Merlin's fucking beard, that feels good," Mattheo praises as you finally take your hands away from his head. He shakes his head back and forth, his curls flopping this way and that before standing still again, giving you a big smile, "Better?"

"Godric, yes," you breathe, "I'm sorry, Matty. The flatness was killing me." Mattheo bit his lip to stifle a laugh, "Oh yeah? Tell me how you really feel, babe."

You gave a playful shove to his shoulder, "You really should pay attention to your hair more. It's one of your best features. But Enzo did just get that new haircut and might I say..." you gave an exaggerated sigh and fanned your face with your hand.

"You saying Enzo's hair looks better than mine?" Mattheo laid a hand on his chest, mocking offense. You shrugged, grin continuously growing.

Mattheo gasped at your lack of response, squeezing your side playfully. You giggled, pushing his hands away, "Okay, okay. I'm just saying you need to take care of those curls or one hot guy haircut is gonna make you fall down the ranks."

Mattheo shook his head, his now lively curls bouncing as he did. "Listen, if you ever. And I mean ever see my curls dead again, I don't care what I'm doing, you stop me and fix them. Preferably with the head scratches like you just did."

There was no thought needed, no extra considerations, before your immediate response, "Deal."

#lollllll #may or may not be inspired by benny boy #BEN FIX YOUR FUCKING CURLS 2K25 #sab and micah yaps turned fics #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #golden era

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helioooss · 1 day ago

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my favourite ex

synopsis: when minjeong dumped you over a year ago, nobody thought that you’d still be chasing after her: your favourite ex.

w/c: roughly 9.5k+

warnings: swearing, making out. winter’s a bit of an ass. law terminology when i actually know nothing about it and university as a whole (this hurt my fucking brain cause i went to uni for a week then dropped out). some angst here and there. (is it even a helios fanfic without a tinge of angst???)

a/n: merry christmas again - first detailed make out scene, lmao :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the class was buzzing when you rolled in, skateboard strapped to your back, oversized “i love my ex” shirt proudly displayed for the world — or rather, for one person in particular, to see. you could feel the weight of the stares, the judgmental whispers blending with poorly concealed laughter, but it didn’t bother you.

at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“mate, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” ryujin said the moment she spotted you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they practically disappeared into her hairline. she nudged yeji, who turned around from her seat and immediately burst into laughter.

“you’re actually wearing that?” yeji cackled, pointing at your shirt as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious what it said. “y/n, come on. you’ve got to stop giving her free real estate in your head.”

“she’s not in my head,” you argued, dropping your bag on the floor with a thud. “she’s in my heart.”

“jesus christ,” ryujin groaned, burying her face in her hands like she couldn’t bear to look at you anymore. “you’re so down bad it’s embarrassing, just gets worse everyday.”

beomgyu leaned back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear as he tilted his head to study your shirt. “honestly, respect. this level of delusion? it’s kind of iconic.”

“thanks gyu,” you plopped down on the seat next to him with a smile.

“no, i mean it,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “like, who does this? who actually wears an ‘i love my ex’ shirt to a class they share with their ex?”

“me,” you said, grinning to yourself. “because i’m not a coward.”

yeji snorted. “no, you’re just stupid.”

you ignored her, your eyes flickering to the other side of the room. there she was, in all her glory: kim minjeong, your ex-girlfriend, sitting with her clique like a queen holding court. yizhuo was whispering something to her, and whatever it was made her smirk — the type that used to make your knees weak.

that felt like a lifetime ago.

she looked flawless, of course. she always did. her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling perfectly into place and she was dressed like she’d walked straight out of a magazine; simple yet effortlessly elegant.

even the way she was sitting, legs crossed and her arm draped casually over the back of her chair, made it impossible to look away.

you weren’t the only one staring. everyone in the room was drawn to her in some way, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

she was one of the richest girls at yonsei, part of the infamous clique of untouchables: minjeong, jimin, yizhuo and aeri. together, they were a force of nature, the kind of people who ruled the social hierarchy without even trying.

and yet, once upon a time, minjeong had been yours. your gaze lingered on her, memories flooding in uninvited. the late-night study sessions where she’d tutored you in the basics of tort law, her patience wearing thin every time you made a dumb joke to avoid answering a question.

the rare moments when her cold exterior would crack and she’d laugh; a soft, genuine sound that made your chest ache with something you didn’t understand back then.

the way she used to look at you, like you were the most infuriating person in the world but also someone she couldn’t quite let go of.

“don’t even think about it,” yeji warned, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “do not embarrass yourself any further, y/n.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from the love of your life.

“you’re literally about to get up and try to sit with her,” she deadpanned.

“i was not!” you protested, even though the thought had definitely crossed your mind.

“oh, for sure you were,” ryujin whined, rolling her eyes. “you’re like a moth to a flame. except the flame is your rich, hot ex who dumped you in the middle of the busiest hallway on campus. remember that?”

as if you could forget.

the image was burned into your brain — the way she’d stood there, her voice calm and detached as she said: “i’m bored of you, y/n.”

the flood of emotions when people had stopped to watch, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. the way your chest had caved in, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

but you’d smiled through it. laughed, even. told her it was fine, that you understood. because you did. you understood minjeong better than anyone else, knew that her coldness was just a shield she used to keep people at arm’s length.

she’d come around eventually, you were sure of it. you just had to wait.

“oh my god, you’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” yeji groaned. “y/n, move on. she’s not worth it.”

“she’s absolutely worth it,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“no, she’s not,” ryujin said firmly. “she’s cold, distant, and —”

“hot,” beomgyu interjected.

“— and way out of your league,” ryujin finished, ignoring him.

“i don’t care,” you muttered, glancing back at minjeong. she caught your eye for a brief moment, her expression unreadable, before she turned away.

your chest ached.

god, you missed her so much it hurt.

“you’re hopeless,” yeji muttered, shaking her head.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair as professor cho walked in and started the lecture. you tried to focus, really, you did, but every time you glanced in minjeong’s direction, you were reminded of everything you’d lost — and everything you were still desperately hoping to get back.

the class was dead silent, except for professor cho’s monotone voice droning on about the intricacies of criminal law. your head was propped up on your hand, and you let out a long, slow yawn that you didn’t even bother to stifle.

unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“miss l/n,” she snapped, her voice sharp and disapproving. “if my lecture is so boring, perhaps you’d like to teach the class yourself?”

you blinked, caught off guard. “i wasn’t saying it was boring.”

“no, you were implying it,” she shot back, folding her arms. “do you have anything to add to the discussion, or are you content to waste everyone’s time?”

the entire room was watching now and you could feel the weight of their eyes on you. you glanced at minjeong, who was sitting with her arms crossed. she didn’t even bother to look at you.

one thing you hated was the judgment, the way your chest tightened uncomfortably under the pressure.

“i didn’t mean to waste anyone’s time,” you defended, trying to keep your voice steady. “i just yawned. it’s not a crime.”

“it’s disrespectful,” she retorted. “and given your current academic performance, i’d suggest you take this class more seriously.”

that hit a nerve. “oh, so now we’re making it personal?” you asked, your voice rising.

“y/n,” ryujin hissed from the corner of the room, but you ignored her.

“you know what?” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “i don’t need this. i don’t need to sit here and listen to someone power trip on their authority.”

“then leave,” she finished coldly. “and don’t come back until you’re ready to behave like an adult.”

“gladly,” you muttered, storming out of the room.

once you were outside, you fumbled with your bag until you found your pack of cigarettes. your hands were trembling as you lit one, the first drag filling your lungs and easing the knot in your chest. you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes as the nicotine worked its magic.

but even with the cigarette in hand, your thoughts drifted back to her. minjeong. her stupid smile, the way her eyes used to soften when she thought no one was looking. you thought about the way she’d laughed at your terrible jokes during those late-night study sessions, her walls crumbling just enough to let you in.

and then you thought about the way she’d torn it all apart. how she’d stood there in the middle of that hallway, looking at you like you were nothing and said she was bored.

the memory made your stomach churn. you felt sick, anxious, like you were coming apart at the seams.

“you’ve got to let her go,” you mumbled to yourself, flicking ash onto the ground. “she’s not coming back.”

the words felt hollow. you’d been telling yourself the same thing for months, and yet here you were — still wearing an “i love my ex” shirt like a complete idiot, still hoping she’d see you and change her mind.

you finished your cigarette, hanging around campus before heading to your administrative law class, your mood dark and heavy. when you walked in, yeji waved you over, patting the seat next to her. you slumped into the chair without a word, ignoring her concerned look.

“you alright?” she asked quietly.

“fine,” you mumbled.

out of curiosity, you glanced over your shoulder and immediately regretted it. minjeong was already sitting a row behind you with aeri, her face calm and composed as always. she didn’t even glance your way, but you could feel her presence like a weight pressing down on your chest.

yeji leaned over, her voice low. “okay, but seriously, what’s up with the shirt? you’re not helping yourself.”

you shrugged. “thought it’d be funny.”

“it’s not,” she said bluntly. “it’s sad.”

you didn’t have the energy to argue. instead, you focused on the desk in front of you, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the surface. you hadn’t even realised you were trembling until yeji put a hand on your arm.

“hey,” she said softly. “are you okay?”

“i’m failing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “failing everything. maybe i should just drop out. leave this place and start over somewhere else.”

she frowned. “don’t say that.”

“why not?” you asked, meeting her eyes. “what’s the point? i’m not cut out for this. i’m just wasting everyone’s time — professors, my parents, even yours.”

“that’s not true,” she said firmly. “you’re not wasting my time and you’re definitely not a waste.”

you didn’t respond, staring down at your trembling hands.

“listen,” she continued, her tone softer. “i know it’s a lot. but dropping out isn’t the answer. you just need to take a step back, breathe and figure out what you want.”

“i don’t even know what i want anymore,” you admitted.

from behind you, you felt a pair of eyes on you. minjeong’s. though you didn’t dare turn around, you could feel her frown, her sharp gaze lingering on your hands.

“just…think about it,” she added, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “you’ve gotten this far.”

by some miracle — or maybe out of sheer spite, you managed to pull yourself together for the rest of the lecture. instead of zoning out or whispering to yeji, you actually listened. surprisingly, the material clicked this time.

professor diaz, as sharp as ever, began throwing out questions to the class and to everyone’s surprise — including your own — you knew the answers.

“miss l/n,” he called, clearly sceptical after he heard of your earlier outburst. “procedural fairness — tell me, what are its main components?”

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at yeji, who gave you a small, encouraging nod. “uh, well, the two main components are the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

the professor raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to be correct. “and? tell us more about it.”

“the right to a fair hearing means that anyone affected by a decision should have an opportunity to present their case,” you answered, hesitation still audible in your voice. “the latter will ensure that decision-makers remain impartial and free from any conflicts of interest.”

he paused, then gave a small nod of approval. “not bad, miss l/n. maybe there’s some hope for you after all.”

you felt a flicker of pride at his words, though it was quickly replaced by embarrassment as yeji smirked and whispered, “look at you, being a functional member of society.”

after class ended, you gathered your things and followed her out, ignoring the glances from your classmates. as the two of you walked toward your usual hangout spot, you spotted ryujin and beomgyu already waiting on the stairs that led down to the fountain.

the fountain, of course, was near the gazebo where minjeong and her clique always sat — and judged.

“finally!” ryujin called out as you and yeji approached. “thought you two got lost or something.”

“y/n was busy impressing the professor,” yeji teased, nudging you. “she actually answered questions. correctly, even.”

“whoa,” beomgyu said, putting a hand to his chest like he was in shock. “is this the same y/n we know, or did someone replace her?”

“ha ha,” you said dryly, dropping your bag on the stairs. “you’re hilarious.”

“she’s just trying to make up for the shirt,” ryujin said, nodding toward your chest.

beomgyu squinted at the bold i love my ex print and groaned. “oh, for the love of — y/n, take it off.”

“you take it off,” you shot back, smirking.

“don’t tempt me,” he said, rummaging through his bag. after a moment, he pulled out a plain white t-shirt and tossed it at you. “here; you put this on before you embarrass yourself any further.”

you stared at the shirt for a moment, then sighed. “fine,” you pulled it over your head without argument, covering up the text that seemed to offend everyone.

“there,” he nodded in approval. “now you look like a normal human being.”

meanwhile, at the gazebo, minjeong had been watching the entire exchange. she frowned when she saw you cover up the shirt, though she didn’t know why it bothered her.

aeri, however, noticed immediately.

“jealous much?” aeri teased, smirking as she leaned back against the gazebo railing. “what, you miss being the one she’s obsessed with?”

“don’t be ridiculous,” minjeong’s tone was cool and dismissive. “i don’t care what she wears.”

“sure you don’t,” yizhuo chimed in, grinning. “you’ve been staring at her for the past five minutes.”

she rolled her eyes, pretending to focus on her phone. “you’re imagining things.”

“uh-huh,” aeri said, exchanging a knowing look with yizhuo.

she ignored them, though her eyes flickered back to you just in time to see you grab your skateboard. you and beomgyu were at it again, attempting flips and tricks on the stairs while yeji and ryujin sat nearby, shaking their heads.

“she’s going to hurt herself,” minjeong muttered, though no one seemed to hear her.

and then, as if on cue, it happened. you misjudged your footing on a landing, and the skateboard flew out from under you. you went down hard, hitting the edge of the stairs with a sickening thud.

“shit,” ryujin said, scrambling to her feet as yeji gasped.

from where she sat, minjeong’s heart skipped a beat. before she realised what she was doing, she was already standing up, her eyes locked on your crumpled form at the bottom of the stairs.

“relax,” jimin mumbled, crossing her arms. “your ex can handle it. and dumped her, remember? don’t act like you care now.”

but she didn’t respond. she couldn’t take her eyes off you, her mind racing with worry even as she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t her problem anymore.

“jesus christ, y/n,” beomgyu muttered as he crouched down beside you, pulling his bag off his back and rummaging through it with the urgency of a paramedic. “you’ve really outdone yourself this time. does it hurt? of course it hurts. what a stupid question.”

“it’s fine,” you said through gritted teeth, clutching your ribs as you tried to sit up. the sharp sting that shot through your side made you wince and you slumped back down against the cold stone of the stairs.

“yeah, fine. sure,” he said sarcastically. “you only fell from, what, three metres? you’re totally fine.”

“shut up, gyu,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“oh, don’t worry,” he said, pulling a freezing cold gatorade bottle out of his bag. “i’m about to help you,” without any warning, he pressed the icy bottle directly against your ribs.

you let out a shriek, the pain sharp and immediate. “what the fuck, beomgyu?!”

“what?” he asked innocently, holding the bottle in place. “it’s cold therapy. helps with the swelling.”

“it’s called torture!” you yelled, trying to shove his hand away.

“stop being dramatic,” he said, but he moved the bottle, finally giving you a moment to breathe.

ryujin crouched next to you, her hands on her hips as she stared at you like a disappointed parent. “you’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“it wasn’t that bad of a fall,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“you’ve got to stop pulling stunts like this,” she said, shaking her head. “your bones can only take so much abuse before they just give up.”

“and then what?” yeji interjected, crossing her arms as she stared down at you. “you’ll end up in the hospital and we’ll have to explain to the doctors that you’re failing uni because you spend all your time skating and crying over your ex.”

at the mention of her, your stomach twisted. “don’t bring her into this,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, we’re bringing her into this,” yeji said, crouching down to your level. “because, let’s be honest, half the reason you’re acting like an idiot lately is because of minjeong.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

“she’s right, though,” ryujin added, her tone softer this time. “you’ve been in your head about her since the breakup. it’s messing you up.”

“it’s not about her,” you lied, though the lump in your throat betrayed you. you hated that they were right. hated that even now, with pain radiating through your ribs, your thoughts still drifted to her.

you hated minjeong. or at least, you wanted to. you hated the way she made everything look so easy and you hated the way she walked around like she owned the world, like nothing and no one could touch her.

most of all, you hated the way she looked at you. because even now, even after everything, you swore there was something in her eyes that told you she still cared.

and that, more than anything, made you feel sick.

“y/n?” ryujin’s voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. she was staring at you, her brow furrowed in concern. “are you crying?”

“what? no,” you said quickly, wiping at your face. but the tears were there, hot and unwelcome.

“you are,” yeji pointed, her tone softening. “y/n, what’s wrong? is it your ribs?”

“no,” you said, shaking your head. “it’s…it’s just —” your voice cracked, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “stupid fucking bitch, why does she have to look so pretty all the time?”

“who?” beomgyu asked, confused.

“minjeong,” yeji said quietly, her expression softening. “she’s talking about minjeong.”

of course you were. even now, when you should have been focusing on your physical pain, she was the only thing on your mind.

“alright, don’t fucking piss me off,” ryujin groaned abruptly, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “we’re skipping the rest of the day.”

“what?” yeji asked, glancing between you and ryujin. “you serious?”

“dead serious,” ryujin answered. “we’re taking her to joe’s juice joint, and we’re drinking her heart out until she forgets minjeong ever existed.”

“now that’s a plan,” beomgyu said, grinning. “i’m in.”

“guys, i’m fine,” you protested weakly, but ryujin wasn’t having it.

“nope,” she said, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. “you’re coming, no arguments. consider this an intervention.”

reluctantly, you let them guide you down the stairs. every step sent a fresh wave of pain through your ribs but you gritted your teeth and kept moving. anything was better than sitting around and wallowing in self-pity.

as you passed by the gazebo, you didn’t spare minjeong or her clique a single glance. but you could feel her eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, like she was trying to read your mind from across the courtyard.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice rang out from the gazebo, loud and teasing. “anything broken?”

“just my ego,” you mumbled without looking up.

she cackled, clearly delighted. “you skipping class again? what is this, the third time this week?”

“fourth,” ryujin told her with a smirk. “and yeah, we’re heading to joe’s. you want to join us after your class?”

the girl raised an eyebrow, glancing at minjeong, whose frown deepened. “tempting,” she said, still grinning. “might just take you up on that.”

“we’ll be there all night,” ryujin winked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from the weight of your ex-girlfriend’s gaze.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first day, it was easy for minjeong to ignore your absence. people skipped class all the time; it wasn’t a big deal. you were probably out skating somewhere or doing something equally idiotic and irresponsible.

she really told herself she didn’t care. she spent the lecture dutifully taking notes, her pen gliding smoothly across the page, her expression calm and collected.

yet as the minutes dragged on, she caught herself glancing at the door more often than she wanted to admit. no loud entrance, no skateboard clattering against the floor, no offhand comment that made half the class groan and the other half laugh. the room felt…off.

too quiet.

“focus,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. this was good. peace and quiet was good.

but the uneasy feeling lingered.

the second day was harder.

she arrived to class early as always, settling into her usual seat. she pulled out her notebook and began skimming through her notes, but her focus wavered. every time the door opened, her eyes flickered up instinctively, only to be met with someone else’s face.

not a sight of you.

again?

she hated how much it bothered her. hated the little knot forming in her stomach, the way her pen hovered idly in her hand as she stared at the empty seat you usually occupied. it wasn’t like she cared.

“you alright?” aeri asked during lunch, raising an eyebrow as she leaned across the table. “you’re kind of…off today.”

“i’m fine,” minjeong said curtly, stabbing at her salad with her fork.

“you don’t look fine,” jimin pressed, clearly amused. “what’s got you all grumpy?”

“nothing,” she replied, her tone sharp enough to make them smirk.

“is it because of y/n?” jimin asked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “you’ve been weird since she stopped showing up.”

“i haven’t been weird,” she snapped, glaring at her.

“you totally have,” yizhuo pointed out, leaning back in her chair. “you’ve been frowning nonstop for two days. it’s honestly kind of funny.”

“maybe you should just ask her friends where she is,” jimin suggested casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “wouldn’t it put your mind at ease?”

“i don’t care where she is,” minjeong said rather quickly, her voice colder than she intended. “it’s none of my business.”

“sure it’s not,” aeri chuckled, exchanging a knowing look with jimin and yizhuo.

she didn’t dignify them with a response. instead, she stood abruptly, grabbing her bag and walking away. she hated how transparent she was, hated that her friends could see right through her.

but as much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care, the nagging unease wouldn’t go away. your absence felt like a puzzle piece out of place and she hated unsolved puzzles.

the fountain steps were as loud and chaotic as ever when minjeong approached, her unease simmering just beneath her calm exterior. she spotted your friends easily — beomgyu, ryujin and yeji sitting in their usual spot, laughing about something as he gestured wildly with his hands.

she hesitated for a moment, her pride warring with her curiosity. then, with a deep breath, she walked up to them, her expression carefully neutral.

the first to notice her was beomgyu, who immediately froze mid-gesture. “uh…” he blinked, clearly caught off guard. “can we help you?”

“where’s y/n?” she asked, cutting straight to the point. her tone was as cold as ever, but her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

ryujin raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with yeji. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she replied quickly, though the words felt hollow. “i just noticed she wasn’t in class. that’s all.”

“you noticed,” beomgyu said, leaning back with a grin. “interesting.”

“just answer the question,” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

ryujin sighed dramatically, leaning forward with a smirk. “well, since you’re so curious…she fainted at joe’s the other day, y’know, when she fell down these stairs.”

minjeong’s calm facade cracked. her eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening on her bag. “she fainted?”

“yeah,” ryujin said, her tone casual but her eyes glinting with amusement. “we were all hanging out, having a good time and then boom — she just collapsed.”

her stomach twisted. “collapsed?” her voice was quieter now, less sharp. “what?”

“yep,” yeji added, nodding solemnly. “we had to take her to the hospital. turns out she fractured a rib when she fell on the stairs.”

the words hit your ex-girlfriend like a punch to the gut. fractured a rib? the image of your fall replayed in her mind, but this time it felt sharper, more vivid. she could still hear the sickening thud of your body hitting the stairs, see the way you’d clutched your side in pain.

and now, knowing you hadn’t just brushed it off, that it was serious enough to land you in hospital, made minjeong’s chest ache in a way she didn’t like.

“so, there you go,” ryujin yawned, tilting her head. “your curiosity satisfied?”

she didn’t respond, choosing to turn on her heel and walk away — her mind racing. she told herself it didn’t matter.

you didn’t matter.

she stared blankly at her phone, her thumb idly scrolling through an endless feed of nothing. the sounds of her friends chatting around her faded into the background and she leaned back against the bench, her thoughts pulling her under.

she didn’t know why she broke up with you that day. no matter how many times she replayed the memory in her head, it never made sense. one moment, you were telling her some absurdly funny story about your boss — a ridiculous tale about how he had a deep-rooted fear of olives and couldn’t even look at a martini without panicking.

she remembered laughing at that, really laughed and it felt easy, like it always did with you. you’d grinned at her, bright and carefree; the kind of smile that felt like it was meant just for her.

and then, almost without thinking, she’d said it.

“i’m bored of you.”

the words had tumbled out of her mouth, cold and sharp, before she even realised what she was doing. she remembered the way your expression had faltered for the briefest of moments, like a flicker of a flame before it was snuffed out.

and then, as if to spite her, you’d smiled. laughed, even.

“cool. no worries,” you’d replied, your tone light and easy, like she hadn’t just ripped the ground out from under you.

but she saw the way your shoulders stiffened as you turned and walked away and for the first time, she had felt the weight of what she’d done.

she’d tried to convince herself it was the right choice. your relationship had been getting…too real.

a year was a long time, longer than she ever thought she’d spend with anyone. and with every passing day, you’d peeled back more and more of her walls, learning things about her that she didn’t even know she wanted to share.

it terrified her how easily you read her, how you’d figured her out like you were studying a map of her soul.

she hated it. hated that you could tell what kind of mood she was in just by the way she tapped her pen during lectures. hated that you knew her coffee order by heart, down to the extra splash of milk she only liked on rainy days. hated that you always noticed when she was struggling, even when she didn’t say a word.

she hated that she’d started to depend on you — because if you knew her so well, if you’d gotten that close, then it meant you had the power to hurt her in a way no one else ever had.

and minjeong didn’t know if she could handle that.

so, she’d broken things off. not gently, not in private, but in the loudest, cruelest way possible. if she made you hate her, if she pushed you far enough away, then maybe she could protect herself.

except you didn’t hate her.

you didn’t yell at her, or cry, or make a scene. you just…kept smiling. kept acting like it didn’t bother you, like you understood her better than she understood herself. and then, to her frustration, you started chasing her. showing up to class wearing ridiculous shirts, making jokes loud enough for her to hear and skating around like you didn’t have a care in the world.

it drove her insane.

it wasn’t fair. she’d ended things because she needed distance, needed to feel in control again, and here you were, acting like you could still get under her skin whenever you wanted.

she clenched her jaw, staring down at her phone. the image of you sitting in the hospital, clutching your ribs and pretending it didn’t hurt, flashed in her mind.

you were so stubborn, so reckless, and it infuriated her that she still cared.

“you okay?” yizhuo’s voice cut through her thoughts, and minjeong looked up, realising she’d been silent for too long.

“fine,” she muttered, but the word felt hollow.

“you don’t look fine,” aeri teased, leaning closer. “what’s got you so worked up? your ex again?”

minjeong’s jaw tightened. she hated how easily her friends could read her, hated that she was so transparent. “no,” she answered sharply.

“uh-huh,” jimin said, smirking. “sure it’s not.”

she ignored them, turning her focus inward again. you needed to stop chasing her, stop showing up with that stupid grin that made her chest ache in ways she didn’t want to think about.

maybe if she made it clear that she’d moved on, you’d finally back off. you were proud, after all — too proud to stick around if you thought she was interested in someone else.

an idea formed in her mind, one she didn’t entirely like but couldn’t shake.

maybe i should be seen with someone else in front of her.

if you saw her laughing with someone else, leaning in close, maybe even touching their arm, you’d get the message.

she exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. it would hurt you — she knew that.

but wasn’t that the point? if hurting you meant protecting herself, wasn’t it worth it?

minjeong opened her eyes, her decision made. she’ll stop. she has to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you were already regretting coming in. every step you took through the halls felt heavier, slower, like the whispers around you were dragging you down. usually, the energy on campus buzzed with something familiar — greetings, smiles and nods of acknowledgment as people called out your name.

today, however, there was a sudden shift. people were staring, their hushed voices following you like shadows.

you weren’t used to this. the stares weren’t friendly; they were curious, cautious, like you were some sort of sideshow spectacle.

your mind raced with questions as the weight of their gazes pressed on you: what the fuck have i done now?

“you should’ve stayed home,” ryujin muttered from beside you, her arms crossed and her pace slowing to match yours. “seriously, what are you even doing here?”

“i have to try,” you mumbled, not meeting her gaze. the ache in your ribs flared with every step, but you forced yourself to keep walking. “if i don’t, i’ll have to repeat. and that’s more embarrassing than walking around like this.”

she sighed, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t. the pain was bad enough, but the whispers and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach made it worse. you tried to focus on getting to class, on anything but the way people seemed to glance at you and then quickly look away.

when you finally reached the lecture hall of your evidence class, yeji was waiting near the entrance, her arms crossed. the moment she saw you, she walked up and grabbed your wrist. “come on.”

“what —” you started, but yeji was already pulling you toward the front of the room, far from your usual spot in the back.

“why are we sitting here?” you frowned, glancing back at ryujin, who followed silently, her expression unreadable.

“just trust me,” yeji mumbled, her tone firm as she steered you into a seat in the front row. “you’ll thank me later.”

heaving out a sigh, you didn’t argue. your ribs throbbed as you sank into the chair and you focused on pulling out your notebook and pen, determined to make it through the lecture. you began to scribble notes as it began, your mind too foggy with pain to think about anything else.

direct. circumstantial. hearsay.

until your pen slipped out of your fingers and clattered to the floor behind you.

groaning in pain, you turned slowly, twisting just enough to grab it. when you looked up, the sight in the back of the room hit you harder than the fall that fractured your rib.

minjeong was sitting next to sungchan. not just sitting — close. too close. her body angled toward him, her arm resting on the desk between them, the space so small it might as well not have fucking existed. his stupid smile stretched across his face as he leaned toward her, saying something that made her chuckle softly.

the only thing rooted in place was disbelief as your breath caught in your throat. your fingers froze around the pen. it wasn’t just that they were sitting together; it was the way they looked. comfortable. familiar. like this wasn’t the first time.

what the fuck?

ryujin noticed the change in your expression immediately. “y/n?” she whispered, nudging your arm gently. “hey, you good?”

but you weren’t good. you were anything but good. the pain in your ribs was nothing compared to the ache that spread through your chest like wildfire.

your gaze flickered back to the front, but it was too late. the damage was done. the rest of the lecture passed in a haze, your pen barely moving across the page. you couldn’t focus, all you could see was minjeong and sungchan, sitting together like they belonged there, like she hadn’t asked about you just days ago.

so this is what she wanted, you thought bitterly, your jaw clenched so tight it ached.

some time alone so sungchan could sweep her off her feet?

you thought she cared. you really thought that despite her cold front towards you, that there was still something there, but apparently, you’d been wrong.

she didn’t even glance your way. not once. she stayed glued to him the entire lecture, her quiet laughter ringing faintly in your ears like a cruel reminder.

when the class ended, you packed your things in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. you didn’t say a word to ryujin or yeji as you walked out, the hollow ache in your chest growing with every step.

she doesn’t care, you told yourself. she never did.

the thought didn’t stop the sting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the walk to your next class was excruciatingly quiet. too quiet. beomgyu was by your side, matching your pace as the two of you moved through the crowded hallway, but he didn’t say much.

for once, the usual chatter and easy jokes he always carried with him were absent, lips pressed into a thin line, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie — like he was trying to make himself invisible.

he’d noticed, of course. he always did. you’d seen minjeong and sungchan together in the last lecture and it had sucked the life out of you. he’d seen the way your expression had darkened, the fire in your eyes replaced with something duller; something he didn’t like.

you were a ticking time bomb. and he was scared.

“you okay?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant.

you nodded, your eyes focused on the floor ahead of you. “fine.”

he didn’t believe you, not for a second, but he didn’t push. instead, he tried to fill the silence with small talk, his usual coping mechanism.

“so,” he said, forcing a grin. “how’s the rib? still feel like your entire torso’s on fire, or is it more of a dull, stabbing pain now?”

normally, you’d have some kind of snarky remark for him, a sarcastic jab or a playful insult. but now, you just shrugged, your shoulders heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

beomgyu fell silent. it was rare for him to feel uncomfortable, but something about this version of you — quiet, almost lifeless, set him on edge.

the two of you walked into your tutorial room and took your seats. at least minjeong wasn’t here, but sungchan was. and even worse, he was sitting just a few rows behind you, loud enough for you to hear every word he was saying.

“yeah, man, she’s amazing,” sungchan was saying to one of his friends, his voice carrying across the room like nails on a chalkboard. “she’s smart, funny, gorgeous…i mean, i’m going to make her mine.”

your grip tightened around your pen.

“like, she’s not even cold, you know?” he continued, his tone insistent, as if he were the authority on minjeong’s personality. “she’s just…selective. she doesn’t waste her time on people who don’t deserve her.”

every word he said felt like a dagger, twisting deeper and deeper. he spoke about minjeong like he knew her, like he truly understood her and it made your stomach churn.

he doesn’t know her. he doesn’t.

then again, maybe he was right. maybe you didn’t deserve her. maybe you never had.

the tutorial on property law dragged on, every second stretching into an eternity. when it finally ended, you were the last to pack up, moving sluggishly as the room emptied around you. beomgyu hovered nearby, watching you like you might break at any moment.

“y/n,” professor anderson’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see professor anderson, her warm brown eyes filled with concern.

she was one of the few professors who actually seemed to care about her students, and she’d always had a soft spot for you, even if you were a pain in her class sometimes.

“yes, professor?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

she crossed her arms, leaning against her desk as she studied you. “you need to pull it together,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “i don’t know what’s going on with you, but whatever it is, you need to let it go. focus on yourself, not on…other distractions.”

you knew exactly what she meant, but you didn’t argue. instead, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i understand,” you said quietly. “thank you, professor.”

“you’re capable, y/n,” she added, her voice softening. “more than you realise. don’t waste that.”

you nodded again, murmuring a quiet “i’ll try” before walking out of the room.

beomgyu followed silently, his usual teasing absent as he guided you toward the stairs where your friends always hung out.

as you approached, your eyes drifted to the gazebo. there they were — minjeong, sungchan and the rest of her friends. he was sitting exactly where you used to sit sometimes, his arm casually draped along the back of the bench, leaning into her like he belonged there.

you looked away quickly, but the image was burned into your mind.

“don’t do anything stupid,” yeji started as you reached the stairs, her voice cutting through the haze in your mind. “seriously, y/n. you’ve already hurt yourself enough. don’t make it worse.”

“she’s right,” beomgyu added, sitting beside you. “minjeong’s made her feelings pretty clear, hasn’t she? maybe it’s time to…you know, let it go.”

you sat there for a moment, staring down at your hands. their words were harsh, but they weren’t wrong. she really had made it clear. over and over again, she’d shown you exactly where you stood in her life.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

yeji frowned. “okay?”

you exhaled, the weight of the past year pressing down on you like a tidal wave. “i give up on her.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you were drowning.

“it’s about time,” ryujin cut through the silence, her voice lacking its usual teasing edge.

beomgyu clapped a hand on your shoulder, his grin tentative but hopeful. “you’re gonna be okay, y/n.”

you nodded, your gaze drifting back to the gazebo for a moment before turning away. it still hurt, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start moving on.

but those words had barely left your mouth when the weight of everything hit you all at once. you thought saying it aloud would feel like some kind of release, a burden lifted.

instead, it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. the edges of your vision blurred as your chest tightened, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything around you.

you couldn’t breathe.

“y/n?” yeji’s voice came from somewhere far away, muffled and distant. “are you okay?”

your hands were trembling, your fingers curling into fists as you struggled to pull in air. your body felt too heavy, your chest heaving as you fought against the invisible weight pressing down on you.

“shit,” ryujin said, her voice sharp with alarm. “she’s having a panic attack.”

your ribs ached with every shallow breath, the pain only amplifying the sense of suffocation.

“y/n, look at me,” beomgyu called out calmly, crouching in front of you. his voice was steadier than the others, but you could hear the undercurrent of worry. “hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. just breathe, yeah? in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

the panic clawed at your chest, your mind spiralling as thoughts of minjeong, sungchan and everything else crashed over you like a wave.

ryujin grabbed your trembling hands, her grip firm but not forceful. “count with me,” she said, her voice low and steady. “one… two…three…”

the breaths came in short, rapid bursts, your body fighting against you as the world narrowed down to the sound of ryujin’s counting and beomgyu and yeji’s soft reassurances.

slowly, the edges of your vision began to clear, and the tightness in your chest eased just enough for you to take a deeper breath.

“that’s it,” beomgyu said, his voice filled with relief. “you’re doing great, y/n. keep going.”

it took a few more minutes, but eventually, the panic subsided. your breaths came slower, deeper, though your chest still ached from the effort.

“you scared the hell out of us,” ryujin said softly, her hands still holding yours.

“sorry,” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

“don’t apologise,” yeji said firmly. “just…god, y/n. you’ve been holding everything in for so long. you haven’t had one of those in awhile.”

the truth was, you weren’t okay. you hadn’t been for a long time, and today had pushed you past your breaking point.

“we’re taking you home,” beomgyu decided, standing up and offering you his hand. “no arguments.”

“what about your other lectures?” you asked, though the question came out half-heartedly. “i can go home by myself, i’ve gone to all of mine.”

“it can wait,” ryujin reassured, helping you to your feet. “you need to rest.”

as the three of them guided you away from the stairs, your eyes flickered back to the gazebo. she was still there, her laugh carrying faintly on the breeze as sungchan said something that made her smile.

she didn’t even notice — or at least, pretended not to.

it hurt, but for the first time, you let yourself turn away. maybe you didn’t know how to move on yet, but you knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

one step at a time, you’d figure it out eventually.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the past few days had been a blur of quiet determination. for once, you focused on your lectures, actually paying attention and, to your own surprise, getting the answers right. the professors had started to notice the shift, exchanging glances whenever you raised your hand or turned in a completed assignment.

even your friends had been treading lightly around you, unsure of what to make of the sudden change.

your skateboard hadn’t seen the light of day in a week, and your fractured rib was a constant, painful reminder to take things slow. the ache kept you grounded, pulling you out of your thoughts whenever they strayed too far toward the past — or toward her.

you told yourself you were doing better. and maybe you were.

but then came criminal law and your tutorial; the one you dreaded the most and gotten into trouble for. the memory of that confrontation still made you cringe, but you were determined to avoid any repeat incidents today.

when professor cho announced that you’d be pairing up for an activity, your stomach dropped. random pairings. your gut churning. there were over fifty people in this class. surely your odds weren’t that bad. surely the universe wouldn’t —

“l/n and kim,” she announced and you felt your heart sink into your stomach.

there was no point protesting. she didn’t entertain negotiations when it came to her pairing system.

you didn’t look at her as you packed up your things and moved to sit beside her. minjeong was already there, her posture as perfect and poised as ever, her notebook open and a pen twirling idly between her fingers.

she glanced at you as you sat down, but you kept your eyes on your notes.

“so,” she began, her voice low and cautious. “let’s —”

“yes, let’s just get this over with,” you interrupted, your tone curt as you flipped through your notes. “assuming we both know the answers, this shouldn’t take long.”

she blinked, taken aback. she wasn’t used to this. wasn’t used to you being cold, distant. it was disarming, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

“how’s your rib?” she asked after a minute of silence, her voice quieter.

“fine,” you said shortly, not looking up and you rammed through your lecture notes.

she frowned, her eyes flickering to your hands. your fingers were trembling slightly, just enough to be noticeable if someone was paying attention.

she was paying attention.

“are you sure —“

“can we focus on the activity, please?” you cut her off, your tone sharper now. “i don’t want to waste time.”

the task was straightforward: analyse the implications of marbury v. madison on the separation of powers and judicial authority. a list of guiding questions were already provided.

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t push further. the two of you worked through the questions in near silence, your answers quick and precise, leaving no room for small talk. every time she tried to make a comment or ask something unrelated, you shut her down with a clipped response.

“okay, yeah, how did chief justice marshall justify the court’s authority to strike down laws?” minjeong asked, her tone professional, detached.

“his argument was that it was inherent in the role of the judiciary to interpret the constitution,” you replied flatly, not meeting her eyes. “and that any law conflicting with the constitution was void.”

she nodded, writing down your response. her attempt at making small comments, asking for your opinion on certain nuances of the case were shut down with brief, matter-of-fact answers.

aeri, sitting a few seats away, was clearly enjoying the show. she leaned back in her chair, smirking as she whispered something to jimin, who chuckled quietly.

minjeong cleared her throat, watching you write her answers down. “any plans for the weekend?”

you stopped writing, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at her. “seriously?”

when you brushed off another one of her attempts at conversation, aeri let out a low laugh that carried just enough for you both to hear. “looks like someone’s getting a taste of their own medicine.”

minjeong shot her a glare but didn’t say anything. she turned back to you, watching as you scribbled the last answer onto your notes with an almost mechanical efficiency.

“we’re done,” you said flatly, closing your notebook. you didn’t even look at her as you packed up your things, already half-turned away.

“wait,” minjeong said, her voice firmer this time.

you paused, your jaw clenching as you slowly turned back to face her. “what now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asked, her brows furrowed in frustration. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at her, disbelief flashing across your face. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she said quickly, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her. “i just think we should be civil. we have to share classes, and —”

“civil?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “you want to be civil? fine. here’s me being civil: i don’t want anything to do with you. so why don’t you go bother your boyfriend instead?”

her eyes widened, stunned into silence for a moment. “boyfriend?”

“sungchan,” you said, spitting his name like it was poison. “you know, the guy who’s been practically glued to your side?”

her mouth opened, but no words came out. she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain that sungchan wasn’t anything to her, that she didn’t even like him like that.

yet, the way you were looking at her — hurt and angry and tired — made her chest ache in a way she shouldn’t ignore.

“just leave me alone, minjeong,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “you’ve already made it clear how little i mean to you.”

and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving her sitting there, her thoughts a tangled mess of regret and confusion.

aeri, who’d been watching the whole exchange, let out a low whistle. “damn, winter. you really fucked this one up.”

she didn’t respond. she just sat there, staring at the spot where you’d been, her hands clenched into fists as she tried to make sense of the hollow feeling in her chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sheer audacity of minjeong to ask you what was wrong after everything. it wasn’t just the question itself; it was the nerve of her, acting as if she cared when she clearly didn’t.

you couldn’t shake the anger. no matter how many hours passed, no matter how much you tried to focus on anything else, it kept bubbling up, simmering just beneath the surface.

“can you believe her?” you said, gesturing wildly as ryujin, yeji and beomgyu listened, clearly trying not to laugh. “what’s your problem? she has the nerve to ask me that, like she doesn’t know exactly what my problem is!”

“to be fair,” ryujin sighed, leaning back on her elbows. “you didn’t exactly give her much to work with.”

“yeah, well, she didn’t deserve anything from me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “if she wanted me to talk, maybe she should’ve thought about that before…ugh, before being her stupid idiot self.”

beomgyu snorted. “solid argument, y/n. very lawyer-like.”

you rolled your eyes, but it only made you more animated. “and the worst part? she keeps pretending like she wants to be civil. civil! like we’re strangers passing in the hall. how does she expect me to just…just—” you waved your hands in frustration, “pretend nothing ever happened?”

“you’re really letting this eat at you,” yeji snorted, glancing toward the gazebo. “but hey, at least sungchan isn’t around today. small mercies, right?”

you stopped for a second at her words, if you’d had to see him sitting there next to minjeong again, smiling like he’d already won, you might have actually lost your sanity.

“yeah,” you muttered. “thank god for that.”

“so,” beomgyu said, smirking, “when are we moving on to the part where you stop caring?”

“don’t hold your breath,” ryujin quipped, earning a laugh from yeji.

you were mid-rant again, mocking minjeong’s indifferent expression and her painfully polite tone, when someone tapped your shoulder lightly.

startled, you turned around, expecting one of your friends, or worse, another professor.

instead, it was danielle marsh — one of the girls who shamefully, on your part, tutored you occasionally.

“hey,” she said softly, her warm smile immediately catching you off guard. she was carrying a tray with coffee cups and a few neatly wrapped sandwiches.

“danielle?” you said, blinking in surprise. she was a year below you, someone you didn’t know very well aside from occasional nods in the hall. “uh, hi?”

“i, um, saw you hurt your rib the other day,” she stammered, holding out the sandwiches for you. “so, minji and i made this for you this morning. figured you might need it.”

for a second, you just stared at her, completely thrown. “you made this for me?”

“yeah,” she said, looking a little shy now. “well, for all of you, really.” she glanced at your friends, smiling. “thought you could all use a pick-me-up.”

your friends didn’t hesitate to take the offered sandwiches and coffee, immediately diving into grateful thank-yous.

“seriously, danielle,” you said, standing up and pulling her into a gentle hug, careful not to press on your rib. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“it’s nothing,” she laughed softly as she hugged you back. “i just hope you feel better soon, yeah?”

“thanks,” you said, pulling away and meeting her kind eyes. “really, thank you. this means a lot.”

she waved it off with a bright smile. “anytime,” and with that, she walked off, leaving you and your friends with her thoughtful gesture.

the moment she was out of earshot, your friends pounced.

“well,” ryujin drawled, raising an eyebrow. “that was adorable.”

“and unexpected,” yeji added, already unwrapping her sandwich. “she made this for you? i mean, for all of us, sure, but for you?”

“you’re getting girls faster than we thought,” beomgyu teased, grinning. “maybe danielle’s your new start? or minji?”

you groaned, but their teasing was infectious, and for the first time in days, you found yourself laughing. “fuck off you all.”

“just saying,” ryujin shot back, smirking. “if this is what moving on looks like, i’m here for it.”

meanwhile, from the gazebo, minjeong watched the entire interaction. she’d seen danielle approach you, watched as she handed you coffee and sandwiches, her smile soft and genuine. she saw the way you hugged her, your expression lighter than it had been all week.

she hated how it made her feel.

yizhuo, sitting beside her, noticed immediately. “jealous?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“no,” minjeong denied, her voice sharper than she intended.

“uh-huh,” the younger girl smirked. “sure you’re not.”

she didn’t want to admit it — not even to herself, but the gnawing feeling in her chest was unmistakable.

it was jealousy, plain and simple. and it had started the moment she saw danielle hand you those coffees and sandwiches, her smile bright and genuine as she looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

it wasn’t fair. you weren’t supposed to move on so quickly. not when minjeong had spent months convincing herself she didn’t care anymore, that you were just a chapter of her life she’d already closed. but watching someone else care for you made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t like.

“so,” jimin began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity as she leaned against the gazebo railing. “danielle, huh?”

minjeong stiffened. “what about her?”

“oh, nothing,” she laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “just that she’s kind of adorable. and from what i’ve heard, she’s, like, the nicest person ever. super smart, super talented. makes sense she’d go for y/n, honestly.”

“she is not going for y/n,” minjeong snapped.

aeri raised her eyebrows. “hmm, interesting reaction.”

“oh, please,” yizhuo chuckled as she looked up from her phone. “you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“i’m not jealous,” she insisted, but her voice lacked conviction.

aeri leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her smile faded slightly. “minjeong, if you’re just going to play with y/n’s feelings, leave her alone. seriously. she’s trying to move on and you need to let her.”

“i’m not playing with her feelings,” she protested, though the guilt was already clawing at her.

jimin scoffed, crossing her arms. “really? because the way you dumped her in front of everyone was pretty brutal. honestly, you’re lucky she didn’t punch you in the face.”

“she didn’t because she’s too nice for her own good,” yizhuo chimed in, her smirk widening. “but honestly, if she did, i’d have cheered her on — we liked y/n.”

minjeong clenched her jaw, her gaze dropping to the table. she didn’t need the reminder of how badly she’d handled things. she knew she’d been cruel and pushed you away in the worst possible way, all because she was scared.

“look,” jimin softened her tone. “you’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling, but don’t mess with y/n. she doesn’t deserve that — she chased you for a long time.”

before she could even respond, a loud, overly cheerful voice interrupted them.

“minjeong!”

she turned to see sungchan bounding toward them, a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers in hand.

her friends groaned in unison and jimin buried her face in her hands. “fuck’s sake, can you get rid of that cretin already? we let him sit here, once. and nothing more.”

“what now?” aeri muttered, glaring at the boy as he stopped in front of them, his grin blinding.

“i brought you these,” he said, holding out the flowers with a flourish. “thought they might brighten your day.”

minjeong blinked, completely caught off guard. “uh…”

“sungchan,” jimin interrupted, her voice dripping with annoyance, “we’re kind of in the middle of something. can you not?”

“yeah,” aeri added, ushering for him to leave. “serious conversation happening here. come back later. or maybe never.”

he frowned, clearly disappointed, but he turned to minjeong anyway. “wait, so…can i still come over tonight?”

right on time as you walked past the gazebo, your bag slung over your shoulder, steps faltering for a split second, your head turning just enough to catch sight of the flowers in sungchan’s hand and the hopeful look on his face.

your expression darkened, your brows furrowing as you looked away quickly and kept walking. but she saw it — the flash of hurt that crossed your face, so brief she might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching you so closely.

her chest tightened, guilt mixing with panic. without thinking, she stood up abruptly, ignoring her friends’ surprised looks.

“wait,” she called after you, her voice louder than she intended. “y/n!”

she caught up to you in a few quick strides, falling into step beside you as you kept walking.

then, you stopped abruptly, refusing to face her. “what do you want?” you asked, your tone flat and cold.

“i just…” she hesitated, struggling to find the right words as she turned towards you. “it’s not what it looked like.”

your expression was a mixture of anger and exhaustion, your eyes narrowing slightly. “what are you talking about?”

“sungchan,” she said quickly. “he’s not — i didn’t…he’s not coming over tonight. or any night. he’s not my boyfriend.”

“why do you think i care?” your voice cut through the air like a blade.

minjeong flinched, her chest tightening. she wanted to explain, to say something that would make this easier, but nothing came out. she hated the way your walls were so firmly in place now, blocking her out completely.

“you don’t have to explain yourself to me, minjeong,” you said, your voice softer now but no less firm. “we’re nothing to each other anymore. remember?”

you didn’t wait for her to respond. you turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts a tangled mess of longing.

from the gazebo, jimin let out a low sigh, shaking her head as she watched the scene unfold. “she’s really not handling this well, is she?”

“nope,” aeri sighed. “but it’s fun to watch.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, you were back in routine; or at least, you were trying to be. the faint ache in your ribs had dulled to something manageable and you’d thrown yourself into lectures and tutorials with a determination that surprised even you.

your professors had started making comments, subtle acknowledgments of your sudden focus and improvement but none of it felt particularly satisfying.

then the rumour started.

“did you hear?” ryujin’s voice broke through the usual buzz of the courtyard as she dropped her bag on the stairs next to you. yeji and beomgyu followed close behind, their expressions a mix of concern and hesitation.

“hear what?” you asked, not looking up from your notebook. you were halfway through an analysis of some case law, trying to keep your mind occupied.

“about minjeong,” ryujin said, her tone careful, like she was stepping on eggshells. “we want you to hear it from us.”

your hand froze mid-sentence. “what about her?”

“uh…” yeji exchanged a glance with beomgyu, who grimaced and shoved his hands in his pockets. “apparently, she said yes to sungchan.”

the pen slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the page. for a moment, you just stared at it, your mind blank. then you picked it up and calmly closed your notebook.

“oh,” you said, your voice eerily even. “good for her.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you okay?”

“yep,” you stuffed your notebook into your bag and stood up, slinging it over your shoulder. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“oh, i don’t know,” beomgyu said, crossing his arms. “maybe because the girl you’ve been in love with for, like, two years just said yes to a guy who literally makes his hair gel do all the work.”

“beomgyu,” yeji hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“what? i’m just saying,” he muttered, but he backed off when ryujin shot him a warning look.

“it’s okay to feel defeated, you know,” ryujin said, her voice gentler now. “angry, even. god knows you tried your best to win her back.”

you sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples. “look, i’m fine. it’s whatever. she can date whoever she wants. i don’t care.”

“okay,” they were clearly unconvinced.

but you didn’t respond. instead, you turned and walked away, leaving your friends watching after you with varying degrees of concern. you didn’t go to your classes that day.

instead, you found yourself in the library, tucked away in a quiet corner with a stack of books and your notes spread out in front of you. studying was easier than thinking about stupid rumours.

meanwhile, across campus, minjeong was sitting with her friends at the gazebo when yizhuo casually dropped the bomb.

“so, when were you going to tell us?” she asked, leaning back in her chair with a sly grin.

“tell you what now?” minjeong asked, frowning.

“about you and sungchan,” she answered, raising an eyebrow. “i heard you said yes to being his girlfriend.”

she froze in her spot, quick to turn her head. “what now?”

“oh, come on,” aeri rolled her eyes. “everyone’s talking about it. apparently, sungchan told some of his friends and now it’s all over campus.”

“that’s not true, i’ll fucking punch him,” she said quickly, her voice rising slightly. “i didn’t say yes to him. i didn’t even —” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “this is getting out of hand.”

jimin raised an eyebrow as she crossed her legs, reapplying her lipstick. “so you’re not dating him?”

“no!” minjeong exasperated. “of course not.”

“well, you might want to clear that up,” yizhuo giggled. “because your rumoured boyfriend is basking in the glory right now.”

“ugh,” she muttered, standing up abruptly. “this is so stupid.”

“where are you going?” aeri called after her.

“to fix this,” minjeong yelled over her shoulder, already walking away.

as she made her way across campus, her thoughts weren’t on sungchan or the rumour. they were on you. if the rumour had reached her, it had definitely reached you.

and she didn’t like the idea of you believing it for even a second.

it didn’t take long to find you. the library was one of the few places on campus where you could completely disappear these days, and sure enough, there you were, hunched over a pile of books in a quiet corner.

minjeong hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. your head was bent over your notes, your brows furrowed in concentration, but even from here, she could see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pen moved too quickly, like you were trying to outrun your thoughts.

“y/n,” she said softly as she approached.

you didn’t look up. “what do you want, minjeong?”

“i need to talk to you,” she muttered, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down before you could protest.

“i’m busy,” your voice cold as you flipped a page in your notebook.

“it’s about what’s being said about me,” she began quickly, leaning forward. “the one about sungchan.”

that made you pause. your pen hovered over the page, but you didn’t look at her. “what about it?”

“it’s not true,” she tried to reassure you. “i didn’t say yes to him — i barely fucking know him.”

you finally looked up, your eyes meeting hers with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “why are you telling me this?”

“because i don’t want you to think —” she stopped, her words catching in her throat. “i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“minjeong,” you sighed, your tone tired, “you broke up with me. in front of everyone. you don’t owe me explanations about your love life.”

“i know,” she mumbled. “but i wanted to tell you anyway.”

you stared at her for a moment, your expression unreadable, before shaking your head and turning back to your notes. “thanks for the clarification. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have actual work to do.”

“okay.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “okay?”

minjeong hesitated, her chest tightening as she watched you retreat further behind your wall, but she didn’t know what else to say.

so she stood up, her hands clenched at her sides and walked away, leaving you alone in the quiet hum of the library.

she had made it halfway back to the gazebo when her steps faltered. the way she replayed your cold, clipped tone in her head bothered her.

she told herself to keep walking, to let it go. you clearly wanted nothing to do with her and it was too late for her to fix anything, but the thought of leaving things like this didn’t sit right with her.

“fuck it,” minjeong muttered under her breath, turning on her heel. she was already moving before she could second-guess herself.

the library was quieter than before when she slipped back inside. she spotted you almost immediately, still in the same spot, hunched over your notebook with a pen in hand. the tension in your posture hadn’t eased, and your lips were pressed into a thin line as you stared down at the pages in front of you.

she didn’t think. she walked straight to your table, stopping just short of your line of sight. her hands balled into fists at her sides, but her voice was calm when she spoke.

“what are you studying for?”

you froze for a moment before lifting your head slowly, your eyes narrowing as they met hers. “why are you back?”

“i’m curious,” she said, her voice steady as she gestured to the pile of books and notes on your desk. “what are you working on?”

you stared at her for a moment longer, clearly debating whether or not to engage. finally, with a sigh, you relented. “contracts,” you muttered, flipping through a set of messy notes. “specifically offer and acceptance. and it doesn’t make sense. i don’t get it.”

her lips quirked upward, just slightly, and before you could protest, she pulled out the chair across from you and sat down.

“show me what you’ve got,” she said, leaning forward and pulling one of your books toward her.

“minjeong, don’t,” you warned, but there wasn’t much heat in your voice. “it’s embarrassing enough that danielle, who’s a year below me, had to explain half of this stuff to me the other day. i don’t need my ex-girlfriend doing the same.”

“so?” she hummed, her voice calm in that matter-of-fact tone of hers. “i know you, she doesn’t.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. before you could form a rebuttal, she was already flipping through your notes, scanning the pages with a practiced eye.

“okay,” she began, her tone shifting into something softer, more focused. “let’s start with offer and acceptance. it’s the foundation of any valid contract, right?”

you nodded hesitantly.

“an offer is essentially a promise or commitment to do something, or refrain from doing something that’s communicated to another party,” she explained. “acceptance, on the other hand, is the agreement to the terms of that offer. it has to be clear and communicated back to the person who made the offer.”

you watched as she grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began sketching out a quick diagram, breaking the concept into manageable chunks. “think of it like this: aeri makes an offer to jimin. for it to become a binding contract, jimin has to accept it. if she doesn’t, there’s no agreement.”

“as if jimin would ever accept anything, but go on,” you frowned, glancing at your notes. “what about when an acceptance comes with conditions? like, if jimin says ‘yes, but only if you deliver by friday.’ doesn’t that count as acceptance?”

“good question,” minjeong said, nodding. “that’s actually a counteroffer, not acceptance. a counteroffer effectively rejects the original offer and replaces it with a new one. the original offer is no longer valid unless aeri agrees to the new terms.”

you blinked, processing her words. for the first time all day, the tangled mess of legal jargon in your head started to untangle itself.

“okay, but what about silence?” you asked, leaning forward slightly despite yourself. “like, if aeri threatens jimin with, ‘if you don’t respond, i’ll take that as acceptance.’ does that count?”

“generally, no,” she explained, almost laughing at your example. “silence isn’t considered acceptance. there are exceptions, though, like if there’s a prior relationship between the parties where silence has been treated as acceptance before but that’s pretty rare.”

you let out a low sigh, leaning back in your chair. “this is so annoying.”

“you’re doing fine,” she smiled, her tone reassuring as she slid the diagram she’d drawn across the table. “you’re overthinking it. contracts are just logic in disguise.”

“logic,” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “right. it’s totally logical to write 50 pages on whether saying ‘maybe’ counts as acceptance.”

minjeong chuckled softly and the sound caught you off guard. it was the first time in a long while that she didn’t sound distant or guarded.

“okay, fair,” she kept the smile on her face. “but you’re getting there. it’s not as bad as you think.”

you glanced down at the diagram she’d drawn, the pieces clicking into place in your mind. reluctantly, you muttered, “thanks.”

“anytime,” she answered, her voice soft.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the tension between you easing just slightly. but then you shook your head, a faint scowl tugging at your lips. “still doesn’t change the fact that this is humiliating.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head.

“because you’re my ex,” you said bluntly. “this is next-level embarrassing.”

minjeong shrugged, her expression calm. “i don’t see why it’s a big deal. i’ve seen worst. plus, we’ve been through this before.”

her words lingered in the air, heavier than you expected. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond, so you said nothing.

instead, you turned your attention back to the notes in front of you, your chest tightening with something you didn’t want to name.

she, however, didn’t press further. she stayed, patiently guiding you through the material until the frustration in your eyes gave way to understanding.

the library was much quieter now, with most of the tables empty and the hum of whispers and shuffling papers reduced to a faint background noise. as you packed up your things, minjeong stood by the door, waiting silently. the awkwardness between you had lessened, but it wasn’t entirely gone.

after all, she was still minjeong; cold, poised, and impossible to read — and you were still you, guarded and hesitant.

you slung your bag over your shoulder as you approached her. “thanks for the help,”

“you’re welcome,” she replied, her tone equally quiet.

the two of you stepped out into the hall together, the silence between you not entirely uncomfortable, but not warm either.

and then, as if the universe had decided to throw yet another curveball your way, you spotted danielle walking toward you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.

“y/n!” she called out, waving as she quickened her pace.

you stopped, your heart sinking slightly and it was not out of dread, but because you could already feel the tension radiating off minjeong beside you.

still, you smiled at danielle, grateful for her kindness. “hey, what’s up?”

“oh, nothing much,” she said, adjusting the strap of her backpack. “just wanted to see if you’re free after school. thought we could have another study session. you know, go over those case studies from contracts? i think i’ve got some good notes that might help.”

for a moment, your mind flickered back to the days when minjeong used to tutor you. the late nights in quiet study rooms, the way her calm explanations had made everything click.

it was hard not to draw parallels, but you quickly pushed the thought aside.

“yeah, sure,” you said with a nod. “that sounds good.”

danielle beamed and then her eyes shifted to minjeong, who had been standing silently beside you the entire time. her smile faltered slightly as she tilted her head. “oh, hi. i don’t think we’ve met.”

you hesitated for a split second before gesturing between them. “danielle, this is minjeong. minjeong, danielle.”

“hi!” danielle said brightly, extending a hand. “nice to meet you.”

she glanced at her hand briefly before giving it a polite shake, her expression cool and detached. “likewise.”

danielle didn’t seem fazed by her tone, her smile unwavering. “so, are you two friends?”

you opened your mouth to answer, but minjeong spoke first. “we’re classmates.”

her voice was so flat, so devoid of emotion, that it left no room for interpretation. danielle nodded, glancing at you as if to say, well, that was awkward.

“anyway,” she continued, turning back to you, “i’ll text you the details for later, okay?”

“sounds good,” you said, offering her a small smile. “thanks, danielle.”

“no problem,” she grinned. “see you later!”

with that, she waved and walked off, leaving you alone with minjeong once again. the silence that followed was heavier than before and when you turned to look at her, her expression was unreadable.

“what?” you asked, frowning slightly.

she didn’t respond immediately. her eyes lingered on the spot where danielle had been, her thoughts racing. she thought about the way the other girl had smiled at you, her kindness so effortless and genuine.

she thought about the way you’d smiled back, softer than you ever smiled at her these days.

and then, minjeong thought about herself; her coldness, her inability to open up, the walls she’d built so high that even you, someone who had once been so close, had struggled to climb them.

she thought about the way she’d hurt you, the way she pushed you away and how she kept coming back, unable to let go but unwilling to fully stay.

you deserve better.

the realisation hit her with a clarity she couldn’t ignore. you deserved someone who could match your warmth and meet you halfway without hesitation.

someone who didn’t leave you questioning your worth or your place in their life.

and minjeong knew, deep down, that she wasn’t that person.

“nothing,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “i’ll see you around, y/n.”

before you could respond, she turned and walked away, her steps brisk and purposeful.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the moment minjeong walked away, you brushed off the strange interaction as just another one of her weird moods, but the more you thought about it, the more it stuck in your head.

the way she’d been so quiet, her gaze distant, it was strange, even for her.

as you made your way to your next class, you couldn’t help but vent to yeji, who listened intently as she walked beside you.

“it was so weird,” you tried to explain. “she just stood there while danielle was talking to me. like, awkwardly silent the whole time. and then she walked away without saying anything, like — what was that?”

yeji snorted. “classic minjeong,” she said, rolling her eyes. “probably trying to act mysterious. you know, her usual icy queen routine — all the reason why her nickname’s winter.”

“i don’t get it, though,” you said, frowning. “she came back into the library just to help me with contracts and then she acted all…weird when danielle showed up.”

“maybe she’s jealous,” she suggested with a smirk.

“jealous?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “of what?”

“danielle; she sees you getting close to someone else and suddenly remembers she doesn’t like sharing.”

“that’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “minjeong doesn’t care about me like that anymore. she made that pretty clear when she dumped me in front of everyone.”

yeji shrugged. “maybe. or maybe she’s just realising what she lost.”

the thought lingered in the back of your mind as you reached your next class: professor diaz’s administrative lecture.

the room was already filling up with students when you walked in and minjeong was seated near the middle, often her usual spot. you hesitated for a split second when your eyes met hers, but you quickly looked away and took a seat beside yeji in the back row.

professor diaz walked in a moment later, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room as he placed his notes on the desk.

“good afternoon, everyone,” he started, tone brisk as always. “today, we’re starting a project that will require collaboration, critical thinking and presentation skills. it’s an activity that requires two members per team.”

you glanced at yeji, who gave you a small, sympathetic smile. you weren’t a fan of group projects, but you could survive it.

hopefully.

“partners have already been assigned,” he continued, flipping through a list of names. “i paired you based on complementary skills and previous performance. some of you might not like it, but tough luck.”

again, you slouched slightly in your seat, praying to every higher power you could think of that you wouldn’t end up with —

“y/n l/n and kim minjeong.”

you groaned quietly, earning a small laugh from the girl beside you. “tough break,” she whispered, smirking.

you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

you reluctantly made your way to the middle of the room, where minjeong was sitting, her expression unreadable as always. she didn’t look surprised to see you, which only annoyed you more.

“of course,” you muttered as you dropped into the seat beside her. “because who else would i get stuck with other than you?”

“nice to see you too,” she said dryly, flipping open her notebook.

professor diaz continued explaining the project from the front of the room. “we’re diving into the practical application of judicial review in administrative law, specifically focusing on procedural fairness and its two pillars: the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

he paced the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back. “your task is to analyse a hypothetical case, identify the grounds for judicial review and argue whether the administrative decision should be upheld or quashed; this project will span the next week or two, depending on how i feel. the final deliverable will include a written report and a joint presentation to the class.”

you collectively groaned with everyone else, pulling out your notes as you glanced at minjeong. “so,” you said flatly, “what case should we pick?”

“something straightforward,” she replied, her tone calm. “we don’t have time to overcomplicate this.”

“righto,” you said, opening your laptop. “let’s look at some recent cases.”

the two of you worked in tense silence for a few minutes, scrolling through legal databases and jotting down notes. the tension was palpable, hanging heavy between you. you could feel her gaze on you every now and then and it made your skin crawl.

“why do you think professor cho paired us?” you asked finally, breaking the silence.

“probably because your grades improved when i was tutoring you,” minjeong said matter-of-factly.

you glared at her, but she didn’t flinch. “well, that’s embarrassing.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “it’s the truth.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you quickly shook it off, refocusing on the project. “whatever. let’s just get this over with.”

minjeong didn’t respond, but she watched you carefully, her expression unreadable. you looked so beautiful.

as much as she tried to focus on the project, her mind kept drifting to one thought: you deserve better than this. better than me.

she didn’t say it. instead, she turned her attention back to the case in front of her, determined to at least help you succeed in this, even if it meant spending the next few days side by side.

the library became your designated meeting spot for the project, mostly because it was neutral ground. neither of you wanted to be in each other’s spaces and the library was safe and impersonal.

together, you worked in a tense but oddly productive silence during your free time, with occasional moments of begrudging cooperation when one of you needed clarification or feedback.

the first few sessions were uneventful, though the air between you was thick with unspoken words. minjeong would occasionally glance at you when she thought you weren’t looking, her gaze lingering just long enough for you to notice, but she never said anything about it.

it was during your third meeting that everything went sideways.

you were both seated at a table in one of the quieter corners of the library, surrounded by books and notes as you debated how to frame your analysis of the case.

minjeong had just finished explaining her point when a loud, overly enthusiastic voice shattered the peace.

“minjeong!”

you looked up, already cringing as sungchan approached your table, his usual grin plastered across his face. he was carrying a coffee cup in one hand and what looked like a wrapped pastry in the other.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone cool but tinged with annoyance.

“what does it look like?” he said, pulling up a chair uninvited and plopping down beside her. “i saw my favourite girl through the window and thought i’d bring you coffee. and a croissant. your favourite, right?”

she sighed, her eyes briefly flickering to you before landing back on his. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve got to eat, right? and who’s this?” he glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “oh…y/n, right?”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, we’re working on a project if you’ve got eyes.”

sungchan’s gaze darted between you and minjeong, his grin faltering just a little. “huh, weird pair. but then again…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “you two used to date, didn’t you?”

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything. you, on the other hand, just rolled your eyes. “what’s your point?”

“nothing,” he replied, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “just funny how things work out, isn’t it? i mean, you’re stuck working with her, and she —”

“sungchan,” minjeong interrupted, her voice sharp. “stop.”

he blinked, clearly caught off guard by her tone. then he laughed, shaking his head. “fine, fine. i’ll stop. but, you know, it’s interesting —”

“sungchan,” she repeated, firmer this. “leave. we’re busy.”

he didn’t leave. instead, he looked at her, then at you and back again. and then, with a smug grin, he said, “wait minjeong, i thought you said you never liked her.”

the words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. your stomach twisted, heart dropping into your chest as you stared at minjeong. she froze, her eyes widening slightly as she opened her mouth to respond.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you spoke for her, your voice low but sharp as you glared at sungchan.

“i’m just saying,” sungchan replied with a shrug, clearly oblivious to the tension he’d just created. “she told me she never really liked you. thought you’d have figured that out by now. why are you still sticking around?”

“sungchan,” minjeong snapped, her voice colder than ice now. “leave. now — before i knock your fucking teeth out of you.”

he finally seemed to realise he’d crossed a line, his grin faltering as he stood up. “jeez, okay. no need to bite my head off,” he set the coffee and croissant down on the table, muttering, “enjoy your project,” before walking off.

the silence that followed was deafening.

“did you really say that?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling just enough to betray how much it hurt.

she looked at you, her expression panicked for a split second before she forced herself to remain calm. “no,” she said firmly. “he’s lying. why would i do that?”

“so he just made that up?” you shot back, your tone harsher now. “out of nowhere?”

“yes,” she said, her voice steady but strained. “i never said that. i —” she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table. “i wouldn’t say that about you, ever.”

you scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “great, so now i’m supposed to believe that, what? he’s just running around making up lies about you?”

“i don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now. “but i didn’t say it. you have to believe me.”

you stared at her for a long moment, searching her face for any hint of insincerity but she looked genuinely upset, her usual mask of indifference cracking just enough for you to see the guilt and frustration beneath it.

“whatever,” you muttered finally, looking away. “let’s just finish this stupid project.”

minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but then she closed it again, her shoulders slumping slightly. for the rest of the session, neither of you spoke unless it was directly about the project.

the air between you was heavier than ever, weighed down by everything that had been said — and left unsaid.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you slammed your pen down on the table, the sharp sound cutting through the library’s quiet hum.

“do you think this is funny?” you snapped, your voice low but furious as you glared at her. “is this all just some game to you?”

she looked up, startled by your sudden outburst. “what are you talking about?”

“you,” you hissed, your chest heaving as your emotions boiled over. “you dump me in front of everyone, act like i don’t exist for months and now you’re back in my life, acting like you care? and on top of that, sungchan shows up and says you never liked me? are you fucking kidding me, minjeong?”

for once, she looked genuinely at a loss, her usual composure completely shattered.

“do you even realise how humiliating this is for me?” you continued, your voice trembling with anger. “i have been trying to move on, to forget about you and every time i feel like i’m getting somewhere, you show up and remind me of how much of an idiot i am for still caring about you!”

“you’re not an idiot,” she said quickly, her voice soft but desperate. “y/n, i —”

“then why?” you demanded, leaning forward, your eyes burning into hers. “why did you break up with me like that? why do you keep showing up, acting like you care and then pulling shit like this?”

minjeong stared at you, her jaw tight, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, you thought she wouldn’t answer. then, she exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair.

“because i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i was scared then and i’m scared now.”

you blinked, thrown off by her sudden vulnerability. “scared of what?”

“of how much you mean to me,” she said, her gaze dropping to the table. “of how much you’ve always meant to me. y/n, when we were together, you…you saw right through me. you knew me better than anyone else ever has and it terrified me. because if you could do that, if you could get that close, then you could hurt me in ways no one else ever could.”

her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard before continuing. “so i pushed you away. i thought if i ended it, if i made you hate me, then i could protect myself but all i did was hurt you, and i hate myself for that.”

you stared at her, your anger fading into something closer to disbelief. “you broke up with me in front of everyone.”

“i know,” she trembled. “i know and it was cruel and i’ll never forgive myself for it. but i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean any of it. i thought if i made it loud, if i made it final, then i’d stop feeling the way i do about you. but it didn’t work.”

you shook your head, trying to process her words. “then why did you let sungchan say all that crap? why didn’t you stop him?”

“because i didn’t know how,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to fix this, how to tell you everything i’ve been feeling. i thought it was too late.”

“it is too late,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “you can’t just come back into my life and expect me to forgive you for everything. it doesn’t work like that.”

minjeong nodded, her expression crumpling slightly. “i know. i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i need you to know that i never stopped caring about you. not for a second.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. you looked at her, at the way her usual calm had completely unraveled and you didn’t know what to say.

part of you wanted to scream at her, to tell her that her feelings didn’t matter anymore.

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you said finally, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“i understand,” she looked down, fidgeting with the hem of shirt. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that i mean it. i’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

you didn’t say anything — you didn’t need to for now. instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, your chest tight with a mixture of anger and sadness. the girl across from you stayed silent after that, giving you the space you needed, but you could feel her presence beside you, heavy and unrelenting.

she had said all the things you’d once wanted to hear — things you’d longed for when she left you shattered in the middle of that hallway.

“y/n,” minjeong’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “please say something.”

you didn’t look at her. “there’s nothing to say.”

“you don’t believe me,” she said softly, more a statement than a question.

“no,” you admitted, your tone clipped. “i don’t.”

the words hung between you like a final nail in the coffin. minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but you were already standing, gathering your things with deliberate precision.

“where are you going?” she asked, panic flickering in her voice.

“home,” you said shortly. “i need to think.”

“what about the project?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

you hesitated for a fraction of a second, then put your bag over your shoulder. “figure it out.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

for the next few days, you avoided her like the plague. you skipped the library sessions, ignored her texts and avoided her in class. when professor diaz asked about your progress on the project, you lied, saying you were working on it separately.

ryujin cornered you in the courtyard one afternoon, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.

“what’s going on with you?” she demanded. “you’ve been weird all week.”

“nothing,” you replied, looking away.

“bullshit,” she snapped. “this is about minjeong, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was enough.

“y/n,” she sighed, her tone softening. “you can’t keep running from this. i know she screwed up, okay? we all know that. but you need to deal with it instead of shutting everyone out.”

“i’m not shutting everyone out,” you defended yourself.”

“you’ve been avoiding her, skipping the library and now you’re lying to the professor about the project,” she listed off. “sounds like shutting everyone out to me.”

“it’s none of your business,” you muttered, brushing past her.

“actually, it is,” a new voice chimed in. you turned to see beomgyu and yeji approaching, both looking equally concerned. “because now we have to deal with mopey minjeong asking about you.”

“she’s not —” you started, but beomgyu cut you off.

“oh, she is,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “she asked me yesterday if you’d said anything about her. looked like a kicked puppy when i told her no.”

“you’re being dramatic,” you muttered, but your resolve was weakening.

“he’s not,” yeji said firmly. “and honestly, y/n, it’s exhausting watching you both avoid each other when clearly there’s so much unresolved.”

“i’m done with her,” you admitted, though the words felt hollow even to you.

“are you?” ryujin challenged, her eyes narrowing. “because you don’t look done. you look hurt. and if you keep bottling this up, it’s only going to get worse.”

on the other side of campus, minjeong was facing her own intervention. her friends had dragged her to the gazebo, refusing to let her leave until they got answers.

“spill,” jimin demanded, leaning forward with her arms crossed. “what’s going on with you and y/n?”

“nothing,” minjeong muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, please,” aeri rolled her eyes. “you’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog. what happened?”

minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i…told her how i felt.”

“and?” yizhuo prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“and she doesn’t believe me,” she admitted, her voice small.

jimin groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “well, can you blame her? you broke her heart in front of the entire university, minjeong, and when she chased you around, you ran faster.”

“and you’ve been cold and distant ever since,” aeri added. “what did you expect? that she’d just fall back into your arms the moment you said you cared?”

“i wasn’t expecting anything,” minjeong said defensively. “i just…i wanted her to know the truth.”

“okay, so you told her,” yizhuo shrugged. “now what?”

“she’s avoiding me,” minjeong responded, her voice cracking slightly. “she won’t answer my texts or show up for the project. i don’t know what to do.”

“maybe start by actually communicating,” jimin suggested dryly. “you know, instead of expecting her to read your mind.”

“and stop being so passive,” aeri chimed in. “if you want her to believe you, you need to show her. actions, not just words.”

“but what if it’s too late?” minjeong asked, her voice trembling. “what if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

jimin sighed, her expression softening. “then you’ll have to accept that. but at least you’ll know you tried.”

“i’m just going to drink my heart out.”

the sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow over the campus as you made your way toward the stairs that led home. the day had been long and all you wanted was to collapse into bed. as you reached the top of the stairs, you spotted jimin, aeri and yizhuo waiting for you like a trio of judgmental guardians.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, already preparing for whatever nonsense they were about to throw your way.

“y/n,” jimin said, stepping forward with a raised eyebrow, “we need to talk.”

“can’t it wait?” you asked, brushing past her, but aeri stepped in your way, blocking your path with her arms crossed.

“it’s about minjeong,” aeri said flatly, her piercing gaze locking on yours.

that stopped you in your tracks. you didn’t look at them, but your stomach twisted in knots. “what about her?”

yizhuo sighed dramatically, leaning against the stone railing. “she’s at joe’s juice joint. drinking.”

“on a tuesday night,” jimin added, mirroring aeri’s stance. “because word has it that a certain someone has been avoiding her.”

you scoffed. “i don’t care what she does.”

“she’s been there since this afternoon,” aeri said, raising an eyebrow. “she’s refusing to leave and we’ve had her guards attempt to pick her up.”

“because of you,” yizhuo chimed in, her voice unusually serious. “she thinks you’re done with her.”

you rolled your eyes, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. “she brought this on herself.”

“she did,” jimin agreed, stepping closer. “but she’s still hurting. and whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”

“why don’t you pick her up then?” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your frustration.

“because,” yizhuo shook her head. “it’s not us she’s been crying about. trust me, we’ve tried.”

that stung.

the three of them watched you expectantly, their expressions a mixture of smugness and concern.

finally, you let out a defeated sigh. “fine, i’ll go and talk to her.”

“thank you,” aeri smiled, stepping aside. “and while you’re at it, remind her that drowning her sorrows in alcohol isn’t a personality trait.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the bar was dimly lit, the scent of citrus and wood polish thick in the air. it wasn’t crowded, but the familiar hum of chatter and soft music filled the space. you scanned the room quickly, your heart sinking when you spotted her in the far corner.

minjeong sat slouched in her chair, one arm resting lazily on the table while the other clutched a half-empty glass of whiskey. her blazer hung off her shoulders, her usually neat blonde hair slightly disheveled.

she looked up as you approached, her eyes widening briefly before she looked away, taking a long sip from her drink.

“minjeong,” you called out, voice firm. “what are you doing here?”

she didn’t answer right away, swirling the liquid in her glass. “drinking.”

“on a tuesday night?” you pressed, sitting down across from her. “this isn’t like you.”

she snorted, the sound bitter. “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“cut the bullshit, minjeong,” you said sharply. “why are you here?”

she set her glass down with a thud, her lips trembling slightly. “because you won’t talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking. “because i miss you, y/n. i miss you so much and it hurts.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you refused to let your guard down. her usually cold demeanour was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“you don’t get to say that,” you clenched your jaw. “you don’t get to sit here and cry about how much you miss me after what you did.”

she winced, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “i know, y/n. and i hate myself for it. i hate that i hurt you, that i pushed you away. but i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you thought breaking my heart in front of everyone was the solution?” you snapped, your voice trembling. “you made me feel like i didn’t matter to you, minjeong. like i was nothing.”

“you were everything,” she said, her voice desperate. “that’s what scared me. i thought…if i ended it, i’d protect myself. but all i did was destroy the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“winter —” you started, but she cut you off, her eyes finally meeting yours.

“you have every reason to hate me,” she said, her voice breaking. “but i can’t stop thinking about you. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you, for the rest of my life, i’m certain i want you.”

her confession left you stunned, the sincerity in her voice breaking down the walls you’d so carefully built. you didn’t realise how much you’d needed to hear those words until now.

“you really hurt me,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“let me earn it,” she said, her eyes pleading. “please, y/n. give me another chance. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, you hesitated; part of you wanted to walk away and protect yourself from getting hurt again.

but you loved her.

“fine,” you said finally, your voice soft. “but you’re going to have to work for it. and right now, we’re getting you out of here.”

to your surprise, she didn’t hesitate. she grabbed her blazer, threw it over her shoulders and clung to your arm as you guided her out of the bar, her grip firm as if she was afraid you’d let go.

“you don’t have to do this,” she mumbled, her voice slurred. “you don’t owe me anything.”

“you’re right,” you said, guiding her through the door. “but someone has to make sure you don’t end up passed out on the sidewalk.”

she let out a weak laugh, her fingers tightening around your arm. “you’re too good to me.”

“don’t push it,” you muttered, but the corners of your lips twitched.

when you reached the car, she refused to let go of your hand. even as you opened the door for her, she tugged you closer, pressing soft, clumsy kisses to your knuckles.

“minjeong,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “get in the car.”

“i don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you this time.”

you sighed, your heart twisting as you gently pried her hands off yours and helped her into the passenger seat.

the ride to her mansion was cloaked in a heavy silence, save for the occasional sniffle from her. her head rested gently on your shoulder, her fingers entwined with yours.

the gesture felt intimate, almost too much for the charged air between you, but you didn’t pull away. you weren’t sure if it was to comfort her or yourself.

“i missed you,” she began, planting another gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “i wish i told you sooner.”

you hummed, nodding as you pulled up to the gates of her mansion. “i wish you did too.”

minjeong didn’t move. her gaze was fixed on your joined hands, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles over your skin. she let out a shaky breath, her lips parting as if to speak but no words came.

“winter?” you prompted softly, your brows knitting together in concern.

she finally looked up at you, her eyes glossy and filled with something raw, vulnerable. “i don’t want to go inside,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

you tilted your head. “why not?”

“because…” she hesitated, her grip on your hand tightening slightly. “because i don’t want to be alone.”

her words hit you square in the chest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. her eyes searched yours and then, hesitantly, she leaned forward just slightly, her breath warm against your lips.

she stopped, hovering close, her needy voice barely audible. “can i kiss you? please?”

the question made your heart stutter. the vulnerability in her voice; you could see how much this moment mattered to her, how much she was holding herself back, waiting for your permission.

“minjeong,” you let out a shaky breath; unsure. “you’ve been drinking. you’re not sober and i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

she shook her head quickly, her fingers tightening around yours. “it’s not like that,” she pleaded, her voice cracking slightly. “i know what i’m asking. this isn’t the alcohol talking. it’s me — your winter, remember?”

you stared at her, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “are you sure?”

“please,” she whispered, leaning just a little closer. “just one kiss. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

then you nodded, your voice barely audible as you said, “okay.”

the relief on her face was instant. she leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. her warm lips brushed against yours softly, hesitantly, as if she was afraid of pushing too far. her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a gentle, almost praising way.

her tongue darted out to meet yours, hesitant at first but growing bolder as the kiss grew more intense. your tongues danced together, a rhythm of unspoken words and emotions too overwhelming to say aloud.

her fingers moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing against your skin as if she was trying to memorise the feel of you.

she wasn’t just kissing you — she was apologising, pleading and pouring every unspoken word into the way her lips moved against yours.

you hummed softly against her lips, your hands finding their way to her waist and pulling her closer. she smiled when your skin pressed against hers letting your arm snake around her body.

and once minjeong was no longer content with just that, she shifted in her seat, climbing over the console until she was straddling you in the driver’s seat. her knees pressed against the sides of the chair, her body fitting perfectly against yours as her hands tangled in your hair.

the kiss turned hungrier, more desperate, as if she was afraid this moment might slip away. her fingers pulled your hair slightly as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

your hands slid up her back, pressing her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

“minjeong,” you murmured against her lips, your voice breathless but she silenced you with another kiss, her lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. “this isn’t one kiss.”

“please don’t push me away,” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling. “i’ll prove it to you, y/n. i’ll prove that i can be better. just…don’t let me go.”

your hands gripped her waist, anchoring her to you. “i’m not pushing you away,” you replied softly, your lips brushing against hers. “but this doesn’t fix everything.”

“i know,” she mumbled quickly, her forehead resting against yours. “but i miss you, i’m sorry.”

you kissed her again, slower this time, more deliberate. your tongues moved together in the same rhythm, her hands trailing down to your shoulders, her touch lingering as if she was afraid you might vanish.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. her eyes fluttered open and she looked at you with so much adoration in her eyes.

“come inside,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “please, stay with me tonight.”

“okay,” you pressed a kiss against her cheek, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “let’s go.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

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