#but maybe the 'best' thing for her is just to scare them away. that way no one gets hurt. no one will care if its just her being gone.
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Commiserate with them. He's a liar, but the news media did their best to hide it, because if it bleeds it leads and they knew Trump would cause so much chaos and suffering, it'd be great for the news. It's not like the old days when reputable journalists ran the news; nowadays it's all giant billionnaire corporations, and all they care about is money, and screwing over little guys like us to make a buck. Honestly, you wanna know what's really going on, read foreign news media like the Guardian and stuff like that; they have laws that kept the billionnaires from buying all the news media over there, so they're still telling the truth at least some of the time. You're from Venezuela? Great! I'll bet you Mexican news sources are willing to tell you the truth about our leaders, though they'll lie to protect their own. As a native Spanish speaker, you have access to a world of news media I can't read. It's ok if you don't trust Venezuelan media, there's the entire continent of South America, plus Spain itself, and you can read any of it you want. It's all on line, just google it in Spanish. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. In today's world you can't blindly trust anyone; you have to do your own research, but there's so many crackpots and conspiracy theorists out there who are just making shit up to make a buck. I mean, did you know his ex-wife -- the dead one, the one he buried on his golf course -- wrote a memoir where he beat and raped her because she gave him a referral to a doctor for a hair implant and the doctor messed it up? I mean, she said afterward, no, she didn't mean to imply that he treated her badly... but she put it in there in black and white. I think she was scared of him. I mean, she ended up dead and he wouldn't allow an autopsy, and she got buried on his golf course. I'm from New York; we've been seeing this guy's shenanigans since the 80's, so I know, I wouldn't put anything past him. You know he was a really good friend of Jeffrey Epstein, right? Who died in prison the last time he was president? Yeah, obviously there's no proof of anything, but you gotta wonder. Anyway, you take care of yourself. It's a damn shame politicians get away with lying like that. I know we always joke that politicians lie, but this guy. Wow.
This kind of thing. You don't blame them for being taken in. You blame Trump for being a liar and the news media for collaborating. You don't mention Democrats and Republicans, you talk about "politicians", because on both sides of the aisle most people agree, politicians suck. You talk about billionnaires propping him up because they want to steal our money to make themselves richer. You express sympathy for them. Maybe, depending on your audience, drop some of the salacious conspiracy-like hints about Trump's behavior.
Meet them where they are, and offer them friendship and sympathy. You're a lot more likely to get them on our side that way.
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any george or arthur angst 🙏
a little inspiration from the new platform roulette...
hurt.
that's how she felt whenever she heard arthur deny the relationship that they had been settled into for the last seven months. with every joke about being single and every joke about being with a woman alongside every laugh he let out when one of his friends made a joke about his dating life and his one-liners in an attempt to pick up women, it tore into her and broke her just a little more each time.
at first, it was something she was really thankful for. he wanted their relationship to be taken slowly, at a pace she was comfortable with, so she wasn't scared off by the way her whole life would become a whirlwind of chaos once his fans knew who she was. from the way her social media would have taken off to the way she'd have been a name they searched for online alongside his own to the way her name would have been in tweets and comments on his instagram, in both nice ways and hated ways. and, he wanted to protect her from the nonsense that she would have been flooded with.
but now?
now she wanted to show him off. she wanted to be shown off. she wanted to live their life together in public and not have to feel like she was being hidden away anymore. she wanted to be taken on dates, double dates, she wanted to share their relationship online with their little milestones, and she wanted to partake in the videos their friends post online without being kept in the background.
she didn't want to hide away anymore.
"people speculate about us anyway so would it be such a problem if we told them what they wanted to hear?"
what had started out as a peaceful night at home, waiting for the long-awaited release of arthur's appearance in platform roulette, had soon turned into a night full of anger and upset. their dinner getting forgotten about, the bottle of wine on the table being ignored and the tv had been paused on a moment that yn couldn't just let slide.
"you might be ready but," he runs his hands through his hair and tugs on the strands that his fingers managed to catch in his fists, "i might not be as ready as you. i don't want to rush things."
"oh, come on, arthur," she scoffs heavily and places her hands on her hips, "we've been together for seven months, can't you see where i'm coming from? or are you that blindsided and scared that you'll lose your fanbase because you won't be the cute, single man in videos anymore?"
the silence that soon followed was deafening.
and thick.
suffocating her with regret because she knew she spoke the words before she could think about how she wanted to get her point across to him. her heart dropped in her chest, almost the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't bring herself to look at him because she knows he'll pull a face that would break her into bits.
"you think i care more about the numbers on my socials than you?"
"that's how i'm feeling right now, arthur."
"do you know how stupid you sound right now?" his voice was thick and laced with anger, the words rolling off his tongue with a hiss, and it dawned on her that, maybe, there was a better way to have brought the topic up and not to cause a fight, "because you sound absolutely ridiculous."
"how would you feel if i went online and started acting exactly how you do in these youtube videos? pretending to be single with such a terrible dating life?"
his silence was just the answer she needed.
"exactly."
all yn could do was busy herself as she collected their dirty plates, food having gone stone-cold and wasted, trying her best to ignore how she was feeling deep down. she hated arguing with him, and the feeling was mutual from arthur, because she hadn't brought up her thoughts with the intentions of picking a fight.
"what do you want me to do, yn?"
"i want to feel like you care about me. i want to feel like you love me enough to show off how happy you are," she glances at him and he stands in the middle of the room like a lost puppy, completely unaware of what to do in that moment, "are you embarrassed of me?"
"embarrassed?"
"it's not a trick question, arthur," she grumbles lowly, scraping off the food from the plates and placing them in the kitchen sink, "are you or aren't you?"
"why would i be embarrassed of you? i have no reason to feel like that towards you, at all," his voice gets louder and she soon realises he's in the kitchen with her, his presence filling the room and she hears the wine glasses, that were in his hands, being set down on the side unit, "i'm far from embarrassed of you."
"then why won't you make us public?"
he gulps back the lump in his throat and leans against the counter, bending his elbows and resting his hands on the edge to keep his body propped up, and it's the first time where they're looking at each other without darkness taking over.
"i'm scared for you," he admits softly, "i want nothing more than to be able to talk about you, about us, with my friends in the videos we film out and about. but i know how brutal people can be and i don't want you to be a victim of social hatred because of who you're with."
"you can't just assume that, though."
"i've seen it happen to my friends, yn," he says; because he had. he'd heard stories about how chip's girlfriend struggled to adapt to his life as a youtuber, how theo's partner would read about herself online to see what people were talking about, how shannon felt when she was with chris. he'd heard it all and seen it all happen. "i didn't want you to tear yourself apart, to become a shell of yourself, because of some of the bullshit people write online."
the words wants to come out but she couldd't speak.
she'd overreacted and it definitely dawned on her, in that moment, that it was something that didn't need to be argued over.
"i just want to keep you safe, yn. that's all."
#arthurtv#arthurtv imagines#arthurtv angst#arthurtv fics#arthurtv prompts#arthurtv blurbs#arthurtv headcannons#arthurtv x reader#arthurtv x reader insert#arthurtv x female reader#arthurtv x female reader insert#arthur frederick#arthur frederick imagines#arthur frederick angst#arthur frederick fics#arthur frederick prompts#arthur frederick blurbs#arthur frederick headcannons#arthur frederick x reader#arthur frederick x reader insert#arthur frederick x female reader#arthur frederick x female reader insert
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and when i live on my own ill be able to decorate like real life decorate ive never gotten to do that in real life b4
#like im not barred from doing it Nd i do like. a little bit kind of but its like. Idk my entire life is a very transient thing and im rly#rly rly not used to being in one place for a long time so as a kid we never rly decorated ever#and like obv i wont be Owning a house or anything like that so itll still have to be moveable but i can like. but furniture that i like and#stuff... ive never gotten to do that b4 even in um. wa. i didnt rly get to do any of the decorating even when i was in the actual house bc#him and the roommates umm. did all that. Okay well now ive sort of freaked it by making myself think of that so im going to go stare#longingly at the floorplan i did#bc umm. well ideally id like to move into one of the apartments thats right across the way bc theres a couple of apt buildings like right#there 5 min walk tops and one of the places Has an open one but no floorplan#i wont be movjng out for ages i just wanted to look at floorplans yk#but like i said no floorplans BUT theres one a bit further away not rly walkable bc its umm#youd have to walk on the interstate and stuff and um. no sidewalk and everything but theeeeeeeeee thing had a floorplan#still very close by like 2 min drive but yk. but i still did my little mockup floorplan with that apartment instead#i want it to be closeby so everybody can come visit and so that i dont die and explode . i dont rly want to continue living in this town#4ever once km like Normal and have savings and ive got everything worked out i wanna maybe move to chicago or something since il is better#for the transgenderisms. + ive always wanted to try living in a big city at least once and i think itd be awesome#but thats Ages and ages away like maybe 5 years depending on how good i am. weeee will see if 5 years in the future is like on the table 4#me LOLLLL 24 year old connor seems rly crazy to imagine. but anyways....#but itll be nice to move out and still be in town bc then i can have the same job yk . and maybe ill know how to drive atp and i can like .#buy a car ..or something . if i do know how to drive#which i probably should since this town very car dependent and i dont want my mom to have to drive me to work esp if umm. i dont live with#them ... im just rly rly rly rly rly fucking scared of driving but i know also in my heart that when i do know how to drive the bond between#me and that car will be crazyyyy like. idk how many of you followed me last year but you may remember my insane bond with angel my cart from#work and there was a lot gokng on woth that <- was Very delusional at the time and i was convinced that she was a sentient thing and had the#power to make my life better or worse if i upset her so i said good morning and goodnight to her every single day so that i could have a#good day . looking back on it probably was something to be concerned abt but whatever.... she is still my best friend and i do miss her#deeply#her bathtub and heater were my besttt friends when i was in wa LOL. i was quite unwell#bathtub is still in my room tho yayyy. heater lives with lamp now and angel is of course at my old job....#bathtub currently is holding a project i gave up on. everyone say thank.you bathtub im looking at her right now
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Interesting
@faelapis #really interesting character motivation analysis#as for bismuth's plan -#i think also some of rose's dislike - going by bismuth saying 'that's exactly what she said' - also has to do with compassion towards HW#and to a certain extent her diamond family#like. she thinks so lowly of herself and the concept of pink diamond - and theres plenty resentment towards the other diamonds too for#understandable reason - that its probably hard for her to think of anyone else as worthy of death. especially by her hands. she wants to#fully leave her old family and she says with conviction that she doesnt miss her home planet ever. but i dont think she wants to kill them.#and part of that i think comes not just from complicated feelings but that she wants rose and the CGs to be this symbol and#care for everyone perhaps in a way different from steven because she has the cynicism that some aspect of gemkind cannot change#but maybe the 'best' thing for her is just to scare them away. that way no one gets hurt. no one will care if its just her being gone.#idk im rambling this didnt really need my addition
Hello, hope you're somewhat well. I was wondering if you could possibly explain what the whole deal with bismuth and rose was. To explain, I am confused on why exactly bismuth was wrong with her idea about killing the the diamonds and rose's later response. I remember reading somewhere that the reason that bismuth was wrong with her plans was because a) the diamonds are just too powerful and b) it wouldn't really fix/help anything because the system would still be in place (you'd just have dead dictators). Is that correct? And so why did rose later on do somewhat of what bismuth wanted if she (assuming here) knew it wouldn't work? Pink would be dead, but the system not at all dismantled. Please explain as if you were speaking to a really dumb person (me)
Thanks for this question. I know it's been sitting for a while in the inbox but I didn't forget, I just think that I should leave this macerate... because? that's a complicated question??? you're not dumb at all.
I think that you're conflating perspectives here: what the story is trying to tell, morally, with how the characters feel and do and where they morally position themselves regardless of the story. The first corresponds with your first question: why Bismuth's plan was wrong (in the sense that it was flawed, not necessarily inmoral--though it is). And the second question corresponds with what pertains the characters inside the narrative.
Objectively, Bismuth's plan was not going to be succesful, and it would've been a mistake in the future. We know this because... Rose went in with the idea, she carried it out. She killed Pink Diamond and it changed nothing about the situation. Homeworld's status quo, its hierarchy and its system, remained unchanged, but moreso it created an earthquake, a trauma, on the landscape that reverberated back on the crystal gems.
I want to say that this is normal. It's a plan that is blotchy, messy and runs on a very emotionally charged motivation. Bismuth was right on feeling this way, these emotions are admirable and also very valid. But having the right feelings does not mean that things are going to go the way you expect and the way you want to.
Let's look at what the story says about this: Steven Universe is a medium that sits on the belief that justice must be restorative in order to be justice. Punishment, vengeance, other contemptious actions are always unwarranted under this principle, because they're not considered useful to actually amend the hurtful situation and are in fact almost always counter productive to mitigating the injustice. Hurts keeps going because we keep hurting each other back.
There are several examples were this statement particularly stands out in the show, most notably Steven in Homeworld Bound when he shows resentment towards the Diamonds, perceiving injustice for the trauma they directly caused on him and feeling vengeful at this injustice. This is portrayed as wrong. It's okay to have feelings on the matter but if you want to kill someone that is actually already trying to fix their wrongdoings, the story says, you're the one that is going too far and the one that needs help.
Bismuth is another example because she also has resentment towards the Diamonds (for a completely good reason!) and wants to revenge her friends and free everyone by getting rid of the only thing that seems to be perpetuating that. While the way Rose acted is unfair and kind of cruel? , Bismuth's plan is never warranted by the story because it collides with this principle of restorative justice.
Parenthesis, part of the reason Bismuth hates the Diamonds so much is that she's been swallowing everything Rose had been saying about them. Rose comes from a place of self hate and she's particularly harsh on Pink Diamond when she talks about them with the CGs. We could talk about how she uses this to cope with her own inner critic and to find what feels to her like an honest response to her inexcusable behavior, but maybe not here.
Moving on to why Rose follows through despite disagreeing with that plan... I think she doesn't, necessarily, disagree on the plan of Killing Pink Diamond. I think that's a possibility although we cannot know for sure. What she's definitely against is the weapon. She doesn't think it's right. And I think it makes perfect sense when you think about her background and her feelings on the matter of destruction: she has the core belief that her nature is inherently destructive and she's deeply ashamed of it, she wishes to make it disappear, to not reproduce that destructive nature ever again.
There is some complex trauma around it that gets triggered when Bismuth shows her the breaking point. She had swore to never hurt anyone ever again but here it is the most Crystal Gem of all telling her that she created a weapon of (at the time) irreversible destruction... As irreversible as Volley's scar. How is she not going to feel responsible for this, after all she created the Crystal Gems, and how is she not going to feel contempt at someone who wants and seeks to do something like this to someone else?
Who says they wouldn't use this weapon against any other gems too? I don't know, I think Rose simply didn't want to get more gems hurt so horribly. Which is not incompatible with killing "herself".
One thing is that Rose is not aware of the impact this action will have when she decides to go through with it. She's under the impression that she's utterly irrelevant and that no one on Homeworld will miss her if she were to be gone (and I don't think she can truly believe it even after that, since she does it a second time).
I think that the major catalyst to this decision for sure was what Blue told her in Can't Go Back. Immediately, she believes the words, fixates on them. Earth will be a colony for as long as she's there to rule. And materializes the idea in her mind. For as long as she's there. If she's not Pink Diamond anymore, if she gives up her status and kills this part of herself, Earth will be free and the war will end. And everyone will be free. She will be free.
With this comes the second and last realization, Rose’s goals killing Pink Diamond were never about dismantling the system. Not because she's conservative, that'd be absurd, it's just that she simply does not believe that she's capable of that at all (out of feelings of powerlessness). She thinks reedeeming the system is impossible, and therefore the only solution is to escape the system and create a new solar punk anarchist utopia outside of it.
#really interesting character motivation analysis#as for bismuth's plan -#i think also some of rose's dislike - going by bismuth saying 'that's exactly what she said' - also has to do with compassion towards HW#and to a certain extent her diamond family#like. she thinks so lowly of herself and the concept of pink diamond - and theres plenty resentment towards the other diamonds too for#understandable reason - that its probably hard for her to think of anyone else as worthy of death. especially by her hands. she wants to#fully leave her old family and she says with conviction that she doesnt miss her home planet ever. but i dont think she wants to kill them.#and part of that i think comes not just from complicated feelings but that she wants rose and the CGs to be this symbol and#care for everyone perhaps in a way different from steven because she has the cynicism that some aspect of gemkind cannot change#but maybe the 'best' thing for her is just to scare them away. that way no one gets hurt. no one will care if its just her being gone.#idk im rambling this didnt really need my addition#steven universe#su analysis#bismuth#rose quartz#rose diamond#su meta
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Arcane women accidentally confessing to you. | Sevika, Jinx, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader
This is very self-indulgent, so enjoy.<3
Content: pre-season 2 because I want to be happy rn, slight angst if you squint, fluff, accidental confessions, maybe ooc??, cursing, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
》SEVIKA
She was resting at the last drop with you during some downtime in between missions. One hand lingered on your hip whilst her metallic one held onto her cigar, eyes focused on the pocker game she was playing with a couple of Silco's other henchmen. She always kept you close this way, a clear sign of who you belonged to despite never having said a word about it yet. It was a mutual understanding only you could have, and so she didn't think a confession was necessary.
Until today, it seemed.
You were secretly helping her cheat a little and eventually told her the winning move, which earned her a large sum of money. Letting out a smug laugh at everyone's angered and defeated glares, she gave you a lazy grin. "Thanks, sweetheart. This is why I love you." She hummed to you, smoke exhaling from her dark lips, before she froze ever so slightly. Well, it shouldn't be that much of a surprise to either of you, and yet she couldn't help but chuckle at your own stunned face.
Looking at the men around her, she threw some poker chips towards them, clearly asking for another round. She wasn't the type to get flustered or shy anyways, so her moving on like nothing happened was on brand.
The only acknowledgment you got, however, was the hand on your hip tightening.
》JINX
She has a hard time hiding her feelings for you due to her rather energetic and extremely clingy nature. But there is still a clear distance between you two that she's too scared to cross. It was a deep fear of ruining everything she had with you in case her confession went wrong. She'd rather you consider her your best friend for life if it meant for you to stay at her side. She didn't want to lose more people after all. And yet, as fate has it, she eventually lost herself in a good and happy moment with you.
You were tinkering on some projects in her hideout whilst listening to music. Her head was leaning against your shoulder as her eyes traced your focused gaze. Jinx felt so content and at peace in that moment that she couldn't stop the words that spilled out of her mouth. "I love you." It took her a second to realise what happened, and her body was quick to flinch away from you. You kept her in place, however, with a free hand placed against her head. "Hey, it's okay. I love you too. I'm not leaving." You reassured her quickly with a smile, one that made her heart skip a beat.
She may not see herself as deserving of you, but she's glad to have you at her side anyway. Hopefully forever.
》CAITLYN
Caitlyn was good at hiding her emotions from you. In fact, she had refused to tell you in fear of breaking the professionalism you two had and, most importantly, your friendship that she cherished deeply. And so, she was very careful not to reveal a single thing... until her confidence betrayed her and caused her to slip up.
You two were reviewing a new case together, and whilst she wasn't paying attention, she accidentally slid you her diary over. It unfortunately looked too similar to her work notebook, something she only realised the moment you opened it and froze in surprise. She may have scribbled your name all over it. She may have childishly drawn hearts around your name. She may have made it awfully clear that she loved you. And it made her wonder if there was a god out there that hated her deeply.
"... My apologies. Please ignore that-" "-Haha, I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one who did this!" You let out a soft laugh before pulling out your notebook and showing her similar pages to her own, just with her name written all over them. Her face was flushed from how flustered and embarrassed she was, but alas, she too couldn't help and chuckle at how silly this all was. At least you felt the same.
》VI
It's not like she didn't want to confess her feelings to you. She just didn't know how! Her confession should sweep you right off your feet in her mind, and yet nothing she came up with seemed good enough. Vi hoped that her flirting would get the point across, but she lacked the confidence to go any further than compliments. She just didn't want you to think differently of her and therefore kept her distance for the most part regarding the subject. That is if she could keep it in for lobger than she already has. She always felt so strongly about others, after all.
So, during a little hang out session in a bar somewhere in Zaun, she attempted to find the courage to tell you how she felt. Whilst she went off to go and get you a drink first, however, a drunken man showed up at your side and started flirting you in a rather uncomfortable way. You tried making it clear that you weren't interested, but as he went to grab your arm, a hand slammed in between you two onto the bar table. "Hey, I think they told you no, asshole." "Who the hell are you?" The man barked back, yet Vi didn't back down and simply blocked you from his view with her body. "I'm their girlfriend, now fuck off." She hissed, and the man just rolled his eyes before walking off grumbling.
Silence filled the space in between you two until you chuckled softly. "Girlfriend, huh? I like the sound of that." You hummed, secretly trying to ease her embarrassed mind, that quickly recovered at your words with a sly grin. "You do?" You mirrored her smile with a nod. "Very much so. I'm glad we think alike."
#arcane#arcane x y/n#arcane x reader#arcane sevika#arcane sevika x reader#sevika#sevika x reader#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane caitlyn#arcane caitlyn x reader#caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#arcane x you
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“look at me, hm?”
toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone.
but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.
you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.
all of this just because you're jealous.
because the love of his life is jealous.
toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning.
you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.
even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will?
you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.
but it had already taken root.
that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.
not on your own at least.
toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you.
he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it.
but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free.
the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.
toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him.
“please… “
it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle.
“you know you’re the only one for me…”
the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him.
“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“do you believe me?”
it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same.
honesty.
raw and real.
“yes.”
toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.
“can i kiss you?”
toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything.
he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him.
“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”
his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.
"i love you."
#crying sobbing wailing#i love him so fucking much i'm gonna die#toji#wtf mickey can write#toji x reader#toji fluff#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#jjk toji#jjk x reader#jjk fluff
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
“Delete her number right now!”
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…”
“And over text too? Wow.”
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.”
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing.
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused.
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news.
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi.
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another.
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine.
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.”
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you.
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.”
“So you do know?”
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?”
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.”
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing.
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue.
So you take mercy on him.
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever.
“You truly are amazing.”
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.”
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit.
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days.
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm.
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?”
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss.
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him.
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi.
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing.
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings.
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken.
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year.
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment.
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time.
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well.
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed.
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind.
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head.
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.”
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way back in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would call you love because that's what good boyfriend's do.
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friend's type. Neither were the other girls in your school.
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.”
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way.
And in the solitude of your room, you wait.
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring.
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end.
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you.
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.”
“How do you do it?”
“Excuse me?”
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?”
Oh.
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him.
It catches you off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.”
“You have such a way with words, though.”
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.”
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.”
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.”
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?”
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.”
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.”
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later.
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.”
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again.
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff.
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life.
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do.
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed.
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.”
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.”
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.”
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—”
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.”
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.”
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see.
“Are you writing this down?!”
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!”
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—”
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.”
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you.
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot.
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass.
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.”
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.”
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pajamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what you were telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door.
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest.
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight.
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you.
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share.
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane.
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime.
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.”
“Company dinner.”
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird.
You gulp.
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.”
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.”
“You sound like you're reading a textbook.” He confesses with a laugh.
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return.
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else.
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?”
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.”
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes.
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.”
“Front wall?”
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.”
“O… kay.”
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot.
The AC’s on, right?
Fuck.
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed.
Mingi clears his throat a second later.
“So it feels hard to the touch or…”
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.”
He laughs “What?”
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.”
“You didn't drink enough water?”
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice.
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that?
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?”
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.”
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?”
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure.
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next?
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.”
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!”
“Sorry!”
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.”
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself.
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality.
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers.
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line.
A bit passes.
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face.
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it.
“Then show me.”
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry.
It just never affected you this way.
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on.
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.”
“Mingi!”
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.”
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up.
“San's ex?!”
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!”
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything.
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is.
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest.
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request.
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.”
“So no one has ever make you—”
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—”
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you.
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me in this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper.
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.”
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment.
Fuck it.
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down.
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.”
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy.
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed.
You're so wet.
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake.
“These will do?”
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him.
“Yep.”
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection.
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?”
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you.
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?”
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?”
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?”
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…”
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind.
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him.
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?”
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.”
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch.
“How do you like being kissed?”
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours.
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would.
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair.
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before.
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn.
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again.
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt.
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?”
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant.
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it.
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.”
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him.
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should.
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them.
And he notices it too.
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.”
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.”
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw.
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…”
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…”
“Am I wrong?”
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again.
“Of course I'm not.”
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most.
“Can I take this off?”
“Fuck, y-yes.”
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere.
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with your hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.”
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well.
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed.
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.”
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?”
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.”
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.”
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well.
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't.
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.”
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?”
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better.
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling.
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck.
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well.
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.”
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.”
“Y-you do?”
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself.
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your middle finger makes its way into your cavity without much effort.
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.”
“Mhm.”
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even notice before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?”
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied.
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to.
And it's all because of him.
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and…
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight.
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man.
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.”
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—”
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.”
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out.
“Prove that bitch wrong.”
That seems to do it.
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected.
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him.
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise.
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you.
Fuck.
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it.
“That feels so good…”
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips.
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.”
The worries die altogether with that.
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop.
It's not long before his middle joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort.
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement.
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.”
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?”
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!”
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing.
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit.
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do.
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing.
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did.
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life.
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it.
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression.
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride.
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago.
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.”
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him.
But you don't mind it one bit.
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace.
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you.
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality.
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings.
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.”
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own.
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock.
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours.
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N”
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…”
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.”
“Don't make me beg, then.”
What the fuck are you even doing?
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why.
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through.
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes.
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught.
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens.
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle.
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!”
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that.
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..”
“You think?” cocking your head to the side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point.
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now.
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway.
“Okay, we're safe now.”
“When were we ever not safe?”
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!”
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back.
You clear your throat.
“I really did want to help you out but—”
“Raincheck?” he asks and at your hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.”
He smiles again “Good, uh…”
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here.
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper.
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone.
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner.
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.”
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him.
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much.
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic.
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod.
“See you tomorrow.”
And with that, he leaves.
You lock the door and practically run to your room after.
What the fuck have you done?
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part!
© jensthwa, 2024.
#ateez#ateez x reader#song mingi#song mingi x reader#mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez hard hours#mingi hard hours#mingi hard thoughts#first post!!!#pls tell me if u like it or if u dont or anything pls my askbox is open#<333#fic; s&t
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)
Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”
Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”
“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.
“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”
It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.
The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fanfic#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#red hood fanfiction#red hood fanfic#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#batfam x reader#batfam imagine#batfam fanfic#batfam fanfiction#jason todd x you#red hood x you#batfam x you#batfamily x reader#batfamily imagine#batfamily fanfic#batfamily fanfiction
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oh, snap!
summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.
⇢ pairing: jake sim x fem!reader ⇢ genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers au, soulmate au, college au ⇢ word count: 7.0k ⇢ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ⇢ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!
The universe has to be fucking with you.
You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources.
Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—
You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully.
Fuck.
You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)
You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.
Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.
The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger.
This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?
You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.
The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else.
You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.
Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.
“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.
“Fucking hell!”
You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”
“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”
The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”
“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”
“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”
“Shut up, people are staring.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.
You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.
“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”
You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.
“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.
You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.
Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)
Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate.
You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”
“I… can’t,” you say lamely.
Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.
Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.
Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.
You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.
Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything.
Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time.
“Hey,” he whispers.
You blink.
“Hi,” you say.
Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.
Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”
“Kind of.” Jake winces.
“Oh.”
“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.
“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.
You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.
Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”
“I guess,” you say.
He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”
You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.
He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”
Why, indeed.
Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.
However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.
You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”
He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, ���I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”
“Okay.”
“Great.”
Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart.
This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.
REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT
#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)
You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.
Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.
You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.
Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”
Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”
Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.
“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”
“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.
Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.
The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you.
Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.
You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.
Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.
You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.
“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”
“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.
Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”
“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”
“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”
“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”
You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”
You whirl around to face him. “What?”
“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”
“I second that,” Chaerin adds.
You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.
“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”
Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”
“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”
Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”
“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.
“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”
“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.
The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips.
You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”
“Okay.”
You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.
“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”
“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.
“Oh. Uh, okay then.”
You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.
A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.
Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.
You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two.
He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:
“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”
“Yeah,” you say softly.
#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)
You blame Kang Taehyun for this.
Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.
If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.
Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY
The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories.
You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.
Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.
Jake Sim.
Why is Jake Sim calling you?
You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.
Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“I’m outside. Can you see me?”
“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”
“Nope. Just… pizza.”
Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”
“...Okay.”
For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach.
“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.
Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”
He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.
“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”
He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.
He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”
You let your hand drop limply to your side.
“Hi,” Jake says.
“Hi again,” you manage to say.
“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.
“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”
Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”
You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.
Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.
“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.
Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”
“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”
“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”
“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.
“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“...Yeah. I guess.”
Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”
You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.
Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”
“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”
Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.
Just like you were one year ago.
#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)
“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”
Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.
He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.
You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”
“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”
Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat.
“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely.
“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”
You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”
That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together.
“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”
You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”
“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.
“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”
Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”
There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.
“You’ll pay for the tickets?”
Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”
That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.
Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.
“Yeah,” you agree softly.
Despite everything, it’s still home.
The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow.
Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.
The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.
“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”
“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”
“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”
You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.
“Suck it up, loser.”
Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.
#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)
You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.
To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.
You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.
“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.
“Feeling any better?”
You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.
When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place.
Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.
“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.
“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”
You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”
“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”
You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.
The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.
“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”
You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”
You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.
Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”
“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug.
“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”
It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”
“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”
“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?
“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”
“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.
He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”
“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.
“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”
You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”
“I—just curious.”
His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.
“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.
You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.
He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.
Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”
“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”
“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”
If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless.
“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
You finally find your voice. “Jake…”
He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”
“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.
“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”
“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.
“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”
“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”
A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.
You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.
“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.
“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.
The thread tied around it glows golden.
#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)
“You can’t see it?”
“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”
“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”
“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”
You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”
Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”
Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.
“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”
“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”
Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”
You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.
“I think that’s good enough for me.”
#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#enhypen fluff#jake fluff#enhypen imagines#jake imagines#enhypen x y/n#jake x y/n#enhypen x you#jake x you#jake sim x reader#jake sim fluff#jake sim imagines#jake sim x y/n#jake sim x you#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun imagines#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x y/n#enha x you#enhypen#jake sim#jake#sim jaeyun
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Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation
Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: none
A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!
“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room.
Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”
“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”
“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.
“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”
“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him.
“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team.
“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–”
“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.”
“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”
“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”
Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend.
“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day.
“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could.
“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”
“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”
“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”
“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”
“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”
Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced.
“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck.
“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off.
It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that.
The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night.
“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”
“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”
He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail.
Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter.
“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.”
Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him.
“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down.
His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.”
“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said.
You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”
“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going.
“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”
Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”
“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly.
Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”
“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you.
“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend.
“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”
Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation.
Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play.
To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck.
He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead.
Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his. He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out.
“Hi baby, there you are!”
Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised.
Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him.
In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”
Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you.
Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side.
You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied. He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along.
Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.
“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly.
“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.
Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over. Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding.
The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.
You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there.
You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.
“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look.
You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached.
“Shit– yes.”
“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot.
He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together.
“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening.
“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”
“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”
“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”
“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”
The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”
“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist.
“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.”
“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes.
“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.
“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating.
But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”
“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger.
There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off.
“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off.
You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.
That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily.
“What a creep,” one of them said.
“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon.
“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.”
The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well.
“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod.
“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”
You shivered at the thought.
“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.
“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances. You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”
Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.
“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them.
“She was into you, Tyler.”
He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing.
Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.”
Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled.
“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said.
“And do what?” Tyler asked.
Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”
Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.
Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.
He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.
“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.
“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was.
You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…”
Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger.
But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering.
“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”
Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out.
Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”
Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”
With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand.
“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly.
#tyler owens#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens fic#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x reader fanfic#tyler owens x reader imagine#tyler owens fanfic#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x you#twisters imagine#tyler owens twisters#twisters#twisters fic
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Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending
If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.
So let's break these down!
Lae'zel:
I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.
This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.
Karlach:
Fuck you.
Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.
Wyll:
I... I forgive you.
This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.
There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.
Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:
I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.
Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?
(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)
Selunite Shadowheart:
I... I thought we were going to save each other...
This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.
She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.
Gale:
You made me want to live...
From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.
It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.
Spawn Astarion:
I should have killed you when I had the chance...
The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.
And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?
All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.
Ascended Astarion:
No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...
In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.
But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?
He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.
Halsin:
Thaniel... goodbye...
Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.
So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.
And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.
Minthara:
No... we were meant to do this together...
Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.
#halsin#shadowheart#astarion#gale dekarios#karlach#lae'zel#minthara#wyll#wyll ravengard#jenevelle hallowleaf#halsin silverbough#astarion ancunin#karlach cliffgate#minthara baenre#bg3#baldur's gate 3#dark urge#the dark urge#spoilers
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protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.
genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)
warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences
w/c - 2.2k
a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading
request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.
“Oh. My. God.”
You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”
“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.
Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”
Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.
“Garcia?”
“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,
“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”
She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”
You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.
Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.
Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.
“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”
Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”
You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”
In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”
You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.
Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.
Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.
What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?
What about a candle lit dinner?
What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’
I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?
Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.
A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.
You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.
“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,
“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”
He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.
You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.
Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.
“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,
“Clear!”
You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.
“Clea-“
The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.
You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.
Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.
He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.
The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."
All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"
The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"
To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.
"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.
You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.
Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.
"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.
"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.
"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.
Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.
"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"
The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."
Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"
"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.
He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.
"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."
"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.
"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."
You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"
"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."
taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m
#criminal minds#spencer reid#cm#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid oneshot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x fem!reader#🍵 —☆ pia’s pages
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what girls can do
abby anderson x fem masc! reader
summary; abby wasn’t gay… right?
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, abby being scared of liking girls, reader is masc presenting!!!, reader fucking another girl (she has a reputation) and abby hears, switch reader and abby, masturbation (abby), kissing, make out, tension and touching in the showers, teasing, praising, praise kink, use of good girl, oral (abby and r receiving), boob and nipple play, hair pulling, hickeys, abby’s first time with a girl…
abby anderson wasn’t gay.
she had liked owen for as long as she could remember. she had even dated him. and sure, the sex was…, boring, to say the least. but that didn’t mean she was gay.
but then…, why couldn’t she look away?
you were working out at the WLF’s gym, white wife beater and grey sweats, hair up on a low bun as you grunted at the effort of lifting weights.
your thighs were spread, shirt slightly sliding up your stomach as you bench pressed. abby’s eyes lingered on the soft plush skin, wanting, no, needing to see more.
she bit down on her bottom lip, too out of focus of her own rutine. she was staring.
even more when she noticed angela passing by. she stopped to talk to you with a flirty smile, which you returned, smirk on your lips. abby heard rumors. rumors about how good you were in bed. how good you could make a girl feel. how they always came back to you for more… angela was an example of it. you had fucked her just a mere couple of days ago and there she was, looking for more.
abby watched as one of your hands landed on the back of her thigh, since she was standing up and you sat on the bench. she wondered how it would feel like. skin against skin. how your eyes would feel like on her.
she shook her head. yeah, no. she was just curious. pure healthy curiosity. she couldn’t imagine herself fucking you, or imagine you in between her legs, tongue out, mouth and chin dripping in…
she huffed, getting up from the machine she was working on and picking up his towel and bottle of water. she was not on the right head space to work out.
her way to her and manny’s room was not long, plopping herself on her bed with a huff and taking from her nightstand a book she had been meaning to finish in hopes to avoid thinking about you at all, which lately seemed to be the only thing she could think about.
that was until she recognized your voice though the other side of the wall, and angela’s, as you entered on your room, which stood next to abby’s.
the walls were so thin she could even heard the first contact of your lips against hers, the lewd smacking and the wet sounds of your tongue sliding against hers.
“you missed me, huh? needy girl…” you voice sounded muffled, but still high enough for her to hear, along with angela’s moan.
abby tried her best to ignore it, focusing on the ink letters of her book. but it was impossible to simply ignore you.
“you’re so wet…” abby’s cheeks flushed, feeling her cunt throb at your words. “you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? of course you have…” abby closed her eyes, trying to recompose herself. she should probably leave her room and go somewhere else, maybe pound on your door and ask you to keep it down. but somehow, she couldn’t move. she was glued down to her sheets.
suddenly, angela was moaning, and you were grunting. “that’s it. taking my fingers so good, good girl.” abby’s throat dried up. holy fuck. her thighs clenched, and her heart was beating so fast…
“fuck.” she sighed, embarrassed of herself. she shouldn’t be listening to this. but you sounded so good… and she was getting so wet… why was she getting wet? she didn’t like girls!
she tried and think about owen and the times the two of them fucked. she always struggled to get wet, and now? her hand pushed inside her sweat shorts and into her panties, fingers sliding through her folds.
she was fucking soaked.
“holy shit.” she muttered, her index finger touching her throbbing clit, her mind filling up with images of you. of your eyes, your arms, your muscles, your thighs, your chest, your mouth, your hands, your fingers…
she had to bit down on her lip to not let out a pathetic moan.
“look at you. what a dirty girl, i bet you’ve been thinking about this. about my fingers in your pussy, huh?” abby then pushed her ring finger inside her tight warmwalls, a gasp leaving her lips as she followed your voice, imagined it was you who touched her.
she was supposed to be embarrassed, touching herself to you while you fucked another girl on the next room… it was sickening. but she couldn’t stop. it felt good. better than it had ever felt before. and she hadn’t come in so long...
“that’s it. doing so good for me. want my cock, baby? want me to fuck you dumb?” she added another finger in, crooking them against her g spot as her other hand came up her shirt to squeeze one of her breasts, pinching her nipple. she nodded, imagining it was her you were talking to, you were touching and fucking. “you’re gonna cum? gonna cream my fingers?” she could hear angela’s moans, how they became more repetitive, gasps and huffs leaving her lips.
abby was getting closer, her thighs shaking. little low grunts we’re leaving her throat.
“yeah, go ahead. let me see it drip.”
she’d never come so hard before, vision turning white, breath leaving her lungs, mouth falling ajar in a silent scream as cum coated her fingers. her free hand, the one that had been playing with her chest gripped the sheets as her back arched. “fuckfuckfuckfuck…” she fucked herself through it, stilling her fingers inside her cunt once she had fully come down from it. she took a deep breath, her fuzzy brain finally reconnecting to reality. she realized what she had done, and quickly pulled her hand out of her pants, cheeks flushed and eyes unable to stare at the cum making her fingers shine. she hurriedly got up from her bed, quickly taking a change of clothes as she heard still muffled moans and voices. just as she rushed towards her door manny came in, and it only made her flush even more. holy fuck, she could have gotten caught.
“hey abs, wanna-“ before she could finish she was getting out the room. “okay… tremendas prisas…”
she went to the community bathrooms and took a towel, getting rid of her clothes to get into the showers. she slightly cringed at the feeling of her slick making her cunt stick to her panties. the water was just what she needed to calm down, splashing it all over her face.
she wasn’t gay… right? maybe she had just slipped. she was really pent up. maybe it all clouded her mind.
and then, there you were, opening the door and getting inside the bathrooms. abby’s eyes widened as she watched you slowly take off your clothes. you started by your wife beater, your hands gripping the rim to pull it up your toned stomach and chest, one of which hands you had just used to touch someone. abby wondered if you had already cleaned the cum out of your fingers, probably used your mouth and sucked it clean. her cunt throbbed at the thought. even more when she took in the sight of your exposed chest, beautiful perky nipples hardening due to the cold air hitting your newly exposed skin. you shimmied your grey sweats down your strong thighs, staying on your boxers as you made your way to grab a towel. abby’s eyes trained on your ass, even more on the wet patch on your crotch, she wondered if you were as wet as she had been thanks to your voice, if angela had touched you. had she made you feel good? had she made you cum? had she eaten you out? how would you taste? how would you sound? how…
she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, dipping her head back under the water.
“hey.” you said as you got beside her in the showers, opening the water. abby had to control herself to not look at you.
“hey.” she answered.
abby was cute. hell, she was beautiful. with blonde hair, broad shoulders, thick thighs and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. you’d lie if you didn’t think she was attractive. but she was straight. sadly enough. so you two had a pretty standard relationship. that being said… why was she blushing? maybe due to all the steam inside or here?
you discretely looked at her.
your eyes trailed down her toned arms to her little breasts, strong thighs and her plump ass. your tongue darted out from your mouth to wet your lips. she was hot. really hot. owen was, or had been, a lucky motherfucker.
abby caught you staring and her whole face seemed to burst in flames, but of course, you caught her too as you soaped up your body, slippery hands over your chest. you two stared at each other, and suddenly, the room was heavy.
you smirked as you watched her eyes follow your touch over your boobs. maybe she wasn’t that straight, you thought, but then she was looking away.
“abby?” you called for her, and her whole body seemed to tense up. bottom lip in between her teeth.
“yeah?” she inquired, and you leaned against the tiles of the bathroom, looking at her.
“you can look.” you said, softly. you could sense it, the nervousness, the inquiries. you could almost read her anxious and confused mind, could see yourself on her.
abby’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her wet unbraided hair falling over her face before she would slightly peek at you. she gulped at the sight. you were completely bare, soft skin in display for her hungry and curious eyes. and you were beautiful. she took everything in. the curve of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curls on your mound, your toned stomach and thighs…
you slowly walked closer, until you were caging her against the cold tiles, chest almost brushing hers.
“i thought you didn’t like girls.” you muttered, her blue eyes on yours.
“i don’t.” she said, and you scoffed, watching as she shivered when one of your hands took her hip. she was so soft…
you slowly leaned in, ‘till your breaths intertwined. abby looked down at your lips. what the hell was happening?
“are you sure?” you muttered, your lips brushing hers. she felt her heart beating faster inside her chest. “ ‘cause it seems like you wanna kiss me… do you wanna kiss me, abby?” you teased, fully pressing your chest against hers, making her groan. “i think you do…” your free hand came up her face to her chin, thumb pressing against her bottom lip. “why don’t you open up for me, hm?” she followed, her jaw falling and lips parting. “good girl.” you whispered against her before you’d close the distance, hearing her moan in your mouth, your tongue pushing inside her own. her hands came up to your shoulders, fingers gripping you as you lewdly and softly kissed her. for a moment it seemed like she was gonna push you away. she probably should’ve. but she didn’t. instead only pushing you closer, making you hum. your hand trailed down to her neck, where you left it, keeping her in place as you hungrily kissed her.
holy fuck. you were kissing abby anderson. you couldn’t remember for how long you’ve been dreaming about this. you’ve had a little crush on her for years.
abby should’ve feel weird about it, you’d just fucked a girl, put the same tongue that was on her mouth on angela’s, used the same hands that you were touching with to touch the brunette, but instead, she couldn’t just think about how fucking good it felt.
you pressed her against the wall. the hand on her hip going up to her chest, where you cupped one of her tits, kissing her harder. her body arched against you, and her hands found your hair, tugging.
she groaned when you pulled away, kissing the side of her neck.
“fuuck.” she sighed, feeling your index and thumb pinch her nipple.
“that’s it. you like it, hm? like it when i touch you like this?” she nodded, and you smirked. “shit. never thought you’d go for girls.” you incredulously said, to what she reacted.
suddenly she seemed to be lucid, pushing away from you.
“abby?” you inquired, but she was quickly taking her towel, draping it around herself and picking up her stuff. “abby!” you watched as she hurriedly left the bathrooms. her heart was on her throat. she thanked god her dorm was a few steps away from the bathrooms or else the whole WLF would have seen her running practically naked around the halls.
that afternoon abby locked herself on her room and didn’t even got out for dinner.
-
days passed by in which you hadn’t heard anything from abby. days in which the only thing she had done had been think about your time in the showers. in which she hadn’t gotten any sleep, feeling your touch all over her body, your kisses, your breath against her skin…
she could hear your voice, remember your teasing. she’d touched herself to it over and over again, facing the fact that yeah, she liked girls. she liked you.
that’s how she had ended up here, in front of your dorm’s door, knocking in the middle of the night. she was biting down on her bottom lip, hands sweaty and shaky and pupils blown. her cunt was aching and her heart was beating fast. way too fast.
she wanted it. she wanted to feel your touch again. she wanted you to kiss her again. to show her what pleasure really felt like. she wanted to know what fucking you felt like. would she moan like angela did? would you talk to her like you’ve talked to angela?
you opened the door, only a pair of boxers and a wife beater on. you seemed to had been still awake.
“abby?” you inquired, fully opening the door. “what are you-“ but before you could finish she was jumping at you, her warm hands cupping your cheeks to bring you in on a kiss. your eyes widened in surprise, still quickly closing when you felt her lips on yours. you hummed, stepping backwards and closing the door once the two of you were inside. you pushed her against it, her tongue inside your mouth, her hands on your hair, tugging as you took her by the waist. “what are you doing?” you pulled away, breathing on her lips with a smirk tugging from your own. instead of answering, she tried and kiss you again, but you didn’t let her, dodging her lips. “nuh-uh. speak.” abby groaned.
“isn’t it obvious?” she inquired, eyes on your lips. she wanted to taste them over and over and over again. she wanted to suffocate.
“i mean, i’m not complaining.” you said, crooking your head to the side. “don’t get me wrong. is just that the last time we kissed you ran away…” abby’s cheeks flushed. “so… what is it that you want, abby?” you inquired, your free hand coming up to push behind her ear a strand of her blonde hair. she shivered.
“i want you to kiss me.” she said, voice low and decisive.
“i can do that.” you said with a smirk before leaning in, pushing your lips against hers before your tongue would enter her mouth, wetly kissing her. you made her knees almost buckle. abby moaned against you, and you pulled her closer to you. your hands, which stood on her waist, crept under her shirt, feeling her abs. “is this alright?” you asked. you didn’t want her to get scared again. she nodded, her hands taking yours to guide them over her chest. “oh yeah?” you smirked. “you want me to touch you?” she nodded. “words.”
“yes. yes, please.” she gasped, and you tweaked her nipples, making her moan.
“fuck. you sound so good…” she sighed as your lips met her neck, crooking her head to give you more space. abby’s hand left your hair to get the rim of her shirt, pushing it over her head to leave her chest exposed. your mouth watered at the sight, a sight that you’ve missed the last couple of days. your kisses trailed down her neck to her chest and her boobs. her hands were back on your hair as your tongue darted out to lick at your nipples, one of your legs pushing in between her legs.
“shit.” she hissed, tugging on your hair. you hummed. “please touch me, please.” she begged, her hips rutting against your thigh.
“get on the bed.” you grunted, and you two quickly made your way to your bed. you thanked god you didn’t have roommates. abby’s thighs parted for you, your lips against hers. she moaned as you pushed down her legs her pajama pants and boxers. abby shivered when the cold air hit her wet folds, moaned when your fingers dipped in between her slicked lips. “fuck. you’re soaked.” you groaned. “you really want this, don’t you?” you teased her. “want me to fuck you? want me to make you feel good?” she nodded. your fingers met her clit, drawing little circles on it and hearing her moan, hips pushing against your touch. “that’s it. just what you needed, isn’t it? poor thing just wanted to feel good…” abby’s mouth fell agape when you plunged one of your fingers inside of her warm walls. “what is it, hm? your little boyfriend couldn’t fuck you good enough?” moans fell from her lips at the pumping of your finger in and out of her, your lips brushing against her own, eyes never wandering from her face. you wanted to see her fall apart. “of course he didn’t, i’m sure he couldn’t make you cum even if he tried. but i can. i’m gonna fuck you so good… gonna make you come so hard you’d be coming back for more. begging for more.” you added your ring finger, curling them and making abby whimper. “is that what you want? want me to fuck you dumb, abby?”
“yes, fuck. yes.”
you hummed. “wanna taste you.” you muttered against her lips, and in a blink you were in between her thighs. abby’s back arched and she gasped when your tongue licked at her throbbing clit.
“oh my god.” she moaned, and you hummed as you felt her grip at your hair. you kept her thighs spread as you sucked on her clit, fucking her open on your fingers.
“pussy taste so good…” you groaned, lapping at her arousal. you were slurping on every drop of her juices you could get. you noticed her squirming, moaning non-stop. it was as if she’d never… “have you never gotten eaten out?” she shook her head and you cursed under your breath.
“owen said it was disgusting.” you felt rage flowing through your body. disgusting?
“does it seem like i’m not enjoying it?” you inquired, and her cheeks flushed, shaking her head no. “exactly. that’s because i love it.” you licked a fat strip up her cunt. “i could drown in this pussy.”
you curled your fingers, hitting her g spot over and over again. her moans were getting louder, her thighs trembling and walls clenching around your fingers.
you knew she was close.
“i’m gonna cum.” she whined, and you only thrusted harder with your fingers, sucked harsher on her clit until her moans came to a stop in a silent scream and cum poured from her hole and soaked your fingers. “fuckfuckfuck!” you hummed as she whimpered, fucking her through it.
you kissed her inner thighs, and left a little peck on her clit before pulling away. she looked absolutely fucked out as you crawled up her body, pushing your lips against her and hearing her hum when she opened your mouth for your tongue. she could taste herself on your tongue. and it was making her wonder how would you taste.
“can i do it too?” she inquired against your lips.
“you don’t have to if-“
“i want to.” she cut you off, and you smiled, kissing her back. “you’ll tell me how, right?” you nodded.
“yeah, i’ll teach you.” and somehow, abby was getting wet again at those words. you pushed your wife beater off, along with your boxers before exchanging places with the blonde, who once she was on top of you couldn’t help but groan.
“so beautiful…” you sighed when you felt her kisses trail down your neck, sucking bruises that had you wanting more. usually you’d ask the girls that you’d fuck to not leave any marks on you. but you wanted abby’s. and you weren’t ashamed of it. her warm big hands cupped your tits. “couldn’t stop looking at you in the showers… you looked so fucking hot.”
“what do you mean the showers? you were staring at the gym too.” you teased her, and her cheeks flushed.
“shut up.” she said.
“why don’t you make me?” you smirked, your face quickly changing to one of pleasure when her hand cupped your cunt, fingers pressing against your puffy clit. “you’re wet.” it was as if she were surprised.
“no shit.” you let out a chocked laughter at the little circles she draw on that little bundle of nerves. “you’re hot, abby.”
“yeah?” she inquired and you nodded.
“been wanting you since the start. too bad you were with owen.” you said.
“yeah. too bad.” she agreed, slowly trailing down your body to lay in between your legs. “but you have me now, don’t you?” she inquired, eyes on yours and you hummed.
“yeah.” but then you were moaning at the experimental lick she made up your pussy, the heavy and earthy taste of your arousal hitting her and making her groan. it was over for her. she knew she’d become addicted. “oh, fuck.” one of your hands laced on her hair, your hips rutting against her tongue. “just like that.” abby hummed, lapping at everything she could get, her strong arms surrounding your thighs to push them over her shoulder and keep you there, at her mercy. “shit, abby.” you moaned her name when you felt her slightly suck on your clit. at your reaction, she did it again, harder, hearing you whine as your back arched.
“you’re sensitive, huh?” she teased, licking at your throbbing clit, and you hissed.
“why don’t you be a good girl and keep your mouth busy with my pussy, hm?” abby swore she could come, her stomach flipping at the nickname. you noticed the blush on her cheeks. “you liked that, didn’t you? like it when i call you my good girl?” she nodded. “speak up.” you ordered.
“yeah.”
“of course you do…” you cooed, taking the hair out of her face. “then earn it. make me feel good.” that’s all she needed to go back in between your legs, sucking and making out dirtily with your pussy. “just like that. atta girl.” abby moaned, her hips rutting against the sheets in need of friction. “use your fingers, come on.” one of her hands came in between your legs, her middle fingers prodding at your hole before slowly pushing in, making you sigh in pleasure.
she started to slowly pump it in and out, relishing in your breathy moans and grunts as she sucked on your clit, after a couple of minutes pushing in a second. wet squelches coming from your pussy taking her thick fingers filled your room, along with her hums and your groans.
“good girl abby, fuck, good fucking girl.” she was eating you like a starved woman, hungry for more. she couldn’t get enough of it. of your taste. of you. “i’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” your hips were subconscious rutting against her mouth, chasing your upcoming orgasm. she only curled her fingers faster, sucked harder, until she felt it; the squeezing of your walls around her fingers and your thighs against her face and the cum coating her fingers and tongue. she hummed, suckling and slurping on your juices, on every last drop, making a mess out of her cheeks, lips and chin until you pushed her away due to the overstimulation, pulling from her blonde hair. her hazy blue eyes looked at you, and your heart shuttered. you pulled from her so she could lay on top of you. “so pussy drunk… did you like it baby? liked eating my pussy?” she nodded, opening her mouth for you when you kissed her, feeling your hands cup her ass to thrust her against your pussy, making the two of you moan. “why don’t i teach you what else girls can do, hm?”
-
a/n;🤭
#tlou abby#abby x reader smut#abby smut#abby x you#abby anderson x fem! reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x reader#abby anderson#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson x you#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson x fem!reader#abby anderson fic#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x female reader#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou imagine#tlou smut#tlou fluff#tlou2#tlou x reader
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hey lovely i have a request i was thinking like paige n reader n they baby girl or boy says they first words or the reader has a baby from a previous relationship nd the baby calls paige mama or sumn
You and Paige met the months after your break up with your baby daddy. When you found out you were pregnant you were filled with joy, your boyfriend not so much. The arguing started about a month after and went on and n about the baby.
Until you had enough and left, you spent the rest of your pregnancy with your best friend (friend name)
After you gave birth you dedicated your life to your precious baby girl, meaning.
Baby comes first
No men
No getting close with anyone
You stuck with those rules for the past five months,until your best friend had enough she basically dragged you and baby girl out the house and drove to her moms. “Are you sure this is ok” you asked her mom “yes, sweetie go have some fun. Besides it’ll be nice to spend some time with my grand baby” she smiled.
Yes you weren’t related but you and (friend name) see each other as sisters and her mom was always there for you as well.
“And maybe you can find you a new man” she smirked. you laughed shaking your head “bye ma” you kiss her cheek before leaving.
That was the night you met Paige, and god was she a flirt, she just wouldn’t give up “come onn, just one chance” she clapped her hands together as she followed you to the bar.
You shook your head with a laugh “you don’t give up do you?” You took a seat at the bar “nope” she smirked “what could go wrong?”. Your heart getting broken again, that’s what could happen. You knew Paige was a good person, but was just scared.
“You’re not gonna stop until I say yes, are you?” You looked at her. she shook her head, you looked down and sighed “fine..” “YES” Paige shoot up and cheered “but!!” You spoke up “uh-oh” she panicked.
“I..I have a daughter” you looked down, Paige slowly sat back next to you “how old” she asked softly “five months” you answered still not looking at her Paige nodded her head in thought “ok”.
You looked at her confused “what’s her favorite show?” Paige asked “why?” You asked. “So I know what to get her whenever I meet her” she smiled. You blinked “look, I don’t care about you having a kid. I like you a LOT” she said making you laugh a little.
“And I want to be with you” she took your hand in hers. After that night you and Paige had your first date which led too her meeting baby girl.
She drove you to (friends name) house to go get her due to her being fussy. “Shhh” you whispered in her ear softly rubbing her back, Paige watched with a smile seeing how different you were with her (baby name) lifted her head up to look at Paige with her big curious eyes, Paige panicked her eye widened as she froze.
You turned to look at her “you ok?” you asked seeing her face, she nodded that was all she could do. You’ve noticed her gaze on (baby name) and smiled “you wanna hold her?”. Paige’s eyes snapped to you “you su-sure I don’t wanna- you just got her to settle down..”.
“It fine Paige, she’s fine” you giggled at her nervousness you walked towards her, (baby name) eyes still on her.
You slowly place her in Paige’s arms and slowly backed away to see what would happen, both stared at each other with widened eyes. (Baby name)reached up and held Paige’s face in her chubby hands, you couldn’t help but laugh at Paige’s reaction.
(Baby name) begins to rub her eyes telling you that she was tired, she placed her head on Paige’s chest and began to fall asleep. Paige heart stopped, yes she held plenty of kids before but this was different. She looked back at you and saw you smiling at them, she looked back at (baby name) and softly smiled.
That was when she knew there was no way she would be able to let you and her go.
It’s been over a year now and things were going really good during that time you and (baby name) Paige’s mom and family, and they loved you especially (baby name).
You thought she was spoiled before, but now she was spoiled every.single.day, whenever Paige came home from practice she would bring home a toy for baby girl but tonight was different “Paige!” You looked at her shocked, she held what looks a four month old husky “what she loves it” Paige placed the puppy down and it immediately ran to (baby’s name).
It began licking her face and running around her making her laughs and giggles fill the room, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind as you to watch your baby girl play with her new puppy “you spoil her to much” you mumbled in her arms “anything to make my girl happy” Paige kissed your head.
“Yeah, well I won’t be so happy in the morning. When I’m picking up it’s shit” you told her “don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it” she laughed. (Baby name) slowly waddled her way over toward you two “m..mama” she reached forward Paige.
You and Paige looked down at her shocked, Paige picked her up and held her in her arms “mama” (baby name) mumbled in Paige chest. Paige looked to you “did she just..” you nodded not knowing what to say. “Are you ok with her calling you that?” you asked.
Paige thought about it, over the past years she grown to love (baby name) like her own but hearing her call her mama mad it deal real. “I think so” she nodded and looked down at baby girl she was half asleep gripping Paige’s shirt the sight made her heart flutter.
“Let’s get a house” she blurred out looking back at you “w..what?” You looked at her shocked “I want us to get a house” she said more confident “we’re going to need more space with that one” she nodded to the puppy who was now playing with one of Paige‘s many shoes. “And we’re gonna need a backyard for when I teach her how to play basketball” she smirked.
“Oh really, who said she was playing basketball” you smiled gently getting closer to her “me” she pulls your by the waist and kisses you with so much love. That when You knew you made the right decision that night.

If there is any misspelled words, just ignore it I didn’t have time to go over it.
@thatonequeer0358 @numberonepartyanth3m @melpthatsme
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#viral#tumblr fyp#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#black reader#paige buckets
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i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan
summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.
contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning
word count: 12.98k
a/n: this is lowkey a mess and probably kind of inaccurate loll but i hope u enjoy! feedback always appreciated xx
the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow
“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”
Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.
“What?”
“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.
You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves.
Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.
“So? Are you —”
“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”
“But —”
“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant.
Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own.
You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.
“Hello?”
“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”
“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”
“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”
“Huh?”
You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.
“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”
“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.
“I think you should talk to him.”
“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”
She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.
“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”
“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”
“I will,” you say with a faint smile.
“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”
“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”
“Bye!”
She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.
Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?
No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore.
But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time.
God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.
“Have you ever been in love?”
When you close your eyes, all you see is him.
first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast
TEN YEARS AGO
“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”
Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming.
In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.
“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”
“You’re evil.”
“Thanks, I know.”
“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”
“What?!”
“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”
“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”
"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold.
To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled.
The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company.
You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.
Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop.
“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”
“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”
“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”
“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”
Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”
“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”
He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”
"Takes one to know one, Hannie."
What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t.
You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.
“Are you guys together or something?”
And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.
Friends, you’ve always said.
Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.
The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is.
Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure.
When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs.
You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”
“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.
Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.
Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.
“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”
“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”
“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”
“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.
Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.
when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?
PRESENT DAY
It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text?
No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.
It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side.
Oh, how some things change over time.
After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.
All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring.
“Y/N?”
God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.
“... Jeonghan?”
Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again.
Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”
Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?”
“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. I mean it.”
“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat.
You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.
“How… how have you been?”
“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”
“Oh, I see.”
“What about you?”
“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”
“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”
It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?
But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.
“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”
“Okay.”
It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.
“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”
Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.
If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.
You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n
you: its ok. that works, see u then
It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.
“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”
“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”
Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong.
Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.
“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.
“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”
“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”
“Hard agree.”
“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”
As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.
“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”
“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”
“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.
“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”
“It’s not!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”
You roll your eyes.
The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.
(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”
“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)
The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.
At least the weather matches your mood today.
The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.
You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath.
(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)
“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”
“I?”
You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it.
“Nothing,” you say quietly.
“How have you been?”
“You already asked me that.”
“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore.
“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”
Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”
“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”
He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”
You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”
“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”
“Something or someone?”
Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”
“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”
“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”
“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”
“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.
The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.
The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world
Becomes a star when night comes
Come down to me
There are many, many things shining in this world
But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me
Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.
Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you
Will you still love me like this?
It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about.
Together we become old and worn out
Even if you come to me, who’s useless
At the end of a shining day
I’m happy that it’s you every day
The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.
“Did you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”
A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”
“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”
“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions.
What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.
“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”
Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?
“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”
You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.
You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather.
“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.
“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”
“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.
“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”
“Are you su—”
“Wear it before I take it back.”
You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.
Stop it.
“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”
“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”
“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”
“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
You suck in a breath at the quick response.
“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”
Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”
“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”
“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”
“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.
“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”
He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.
“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”
“Aw, that must be really nice.”
“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.
“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”
“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”
“Oh. Right.”
Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.
A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students.
“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”
“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”
You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.
“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.
“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”
“Jeonghan.”
“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”
You cross your arms. “No.”
“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”
“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.
“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”
What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.
“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”
“Thank you.”
The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.
You just blink, confused. “What?”
Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”
“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”
“Yeah, we should.”
There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.
“Jeonghan.”
“Yes?”
“Is this shrimp?”
“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”
Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”
“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”
“I will.”
Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful.
You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.
“Jeonghan?”
“Hm?”
“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”
The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.
“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”
The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again.
“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”
Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”
“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”
“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”
Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”
“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”
And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”
You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”
You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away.
“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”
“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”
“Y/N, wait —”
“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”
“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”
“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.
The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened?
Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years.
It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.
“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”
You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”
“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.
“What is this?”
“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”
It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.)
Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.
“You remembered.”
“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”
just friends, that's not enough for me
EIGHT YEARS AGO
Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined.
However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.
You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?”
“Happy birthday!”
“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”
“I know!”
“Why are you awake?”
“To tell you happy birthday?”
“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.
“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”
“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.
“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”
You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”
“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”
“That class is at noon!”
“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”
When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.
jeonghan: i’m outside ur building
jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry
you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call
jeonghan: uhh surprise?
“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.
“How long were you waiting?”
“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.
The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.
“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”
“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”
Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”
“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”
“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”
“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Deal.”
It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.
God, you are so done for.
A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.
“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”
“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”
You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.
In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane.
That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.
(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”
“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)
But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.
The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in.
“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”
His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.
“What’s this?”
“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”
“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”
“One would think you’re on drugs.”
“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”
“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”
“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”
“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”
“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”
“Oh, and you can gamble.”
“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”
Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”
“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”
Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”
“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”
“... Right.”
The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.
Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.
“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”
You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.
“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”
“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble.
Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.
“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”
“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.
“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”
You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”
Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.
“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.
“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”
“Okay.”
“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”
You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.
“Ow!”
“Take it back!”
“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”
You roll your eyes. “Get out.”
“Go in.”
“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”
Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye.
(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.)
“See you later.”
Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.
That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.
“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”
“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”
“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”
You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”
“Jeonghan?”
“That evil bastard.”
The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.
“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”
“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.
“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.
“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”
“No.”
Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs.
“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.
You walk in on a crime scene.
“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”
“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”
“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”
Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.
“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”
Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.
“You seem very sober,” he observes.
“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”
Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”
“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”
“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
“What’s four plus four?”
He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”
You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.
They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.
“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.
By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.
Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it.
“Did you bring your keys?”
“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment.
It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.
“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.
“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”
“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”
He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”
You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.
“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”
You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”
“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”
You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”
“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”
“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”
“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”
You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.
“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”
“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”
The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.
“Y/N.”
“Yes?”
“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”
The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.
You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”
Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.
It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching.
Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.
Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.
“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”
because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough
PRESENT DAY
The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.
Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.
“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”
“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”
“Unfortunately.”
Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”
“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”
“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”
“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”
You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”
“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”
“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”
This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”
“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.
“Did you see Yeonju again?”
“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”
“So it wasn’t a date?”
“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”
“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”
“Wonwoo!”
The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”
“Fine by me.”
“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.
“Done.”
The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.
Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can.
Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.
“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place.
“Are you ready to lock up and go?”
“Yeah, let’s head out.”
It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.
“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”
“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”
He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”
“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”
“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”
The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.
“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”
Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you.
“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”
You freeze. “What?”
“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”
You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”
Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”
Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.
“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”
You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”
“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”
The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.
At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.
yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul
yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.
So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to.
Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed.
Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again.
You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years.
The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.
even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?
SIX YEARS AGO
Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.
Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.
Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.
He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.
Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time.
Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.
Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.
Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation.
(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug.
“Always?”
“Always.”)
And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.
But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.
What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.
Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?
For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.
Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.
“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”
“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”
“Yeah, I feel like one.”
“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”
“You know, these things do take time.”
“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”
Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”
Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.
“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.
“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”
Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”
“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”
“Thank you.”
He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little.
Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.
Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.
And the thought of you dissolves into the music.
we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around
PRESENT DAY
Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.
In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.
“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”
“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”
“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”
“See you.”
It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.
(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”
“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)
Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.
Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.
Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.
You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.
“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”
Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”
“Jeonghan —”
“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”
“I was. I still am.”
“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”
“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”
He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.
“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”
“That’s okay.”
In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.
“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you.
Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart.
“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”
“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”
“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.
“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.
The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.
“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”
“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”
“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”
He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”
Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.
“Why…?”
“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”
“Thank you.”
You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.
“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”
Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”
And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all.
You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.
The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.
Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.
no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you
FOUR YEARS LATER
The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.
In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.
But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.
“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”
“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”
“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”
The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.
“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”
“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”
Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.
“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.
Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.
“Maybe I have.”
thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it :) much love, ashi xx
#jeonghan x reader#svt#seventeen#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt one shot#svt fics#svt jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#jeonghan friends to lovers#jeonghan one shot#jeonghan fics#kpop fanfic
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Human Connection
Part I
Logan Howlett x reader with injury related memory loss
Word count: 4.7k
A/N: Inspired by @pandapetals’ memory loss fic (it's taken over all by thoughts since I read it) as well as the song We’ll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross. Sorry in advance, this is probably going to be a series, I was going to make it all one story but it’s already this long and I haven’t gotten to what I wanted to get to.
Warnings: a combination of angst and fluff, suggested feminine reader (called Logan’s wife, she/her used once) but no true descriptions, if you’re an English teacher you’ll hate this because I mix past and present tense verbs. Sorry if it bothers you, it’s my primary grammatical weakness.
The doctor’s words felt monotonous and cold. Logan looked to you. Your eyes trained on the doctor, your blanketed knees pulled up to your chest, your arms loosely held around them. You had been conscious for around 24 hours and he’d hardly seen you. Admittedly at your specific request, ‘your hovering around is making me kinda anxious’ were the exact words. The sting of the words stuck in his mind. The doctor told the two of you the state of your condition, monitoring and treatment outline, and the information needed to fill out the discharge papers. You would walk away mostly fine. You survived the accident, lucky you!
But you didn’t feel lucky. You felt frustrated and unsettled. Maybe even a little scared. You had woken up to a man you’d never seen whispering to you in your sleep, seemingly close to tears. When he noticed you awake he asked you questions you didn’t know the answers to and claimed to be your husband. You had never been married and given the fact that he looked as though he hadn’t showered or slept in days, this was obviously a psych patient who had wandered into your room. But it wasn’t. The doctors could confirm, according to the paperwork and pictures, you were this man’s wife. He’d continued to be around you, he clearly wanted to help in any way he could but you couldn’t handle the way he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.
You had few memories, almost none of them were recent. Not even memories of your own identity were intact. Dissociative amnesia they called it. The staff stressed, to both you and this Logan guy, that your memories needed to come back on their own, he shouldn’t just tell you memories. He was allowed to help fill in details or answer small questions but that’s it. They said the best thing you could do right now would be to go back to your routine. They told him to act normal towards you as much as possible. You didn’t even know what that would look like. It was weird being addressed as a unit. Talked to like he was ‘your other half’ or whatever people say.
“Here is the form. Either of you can fill it out, I’ll just need both of your signatures at the bottom.” The nurse’s words snap you back to reality. You nod and take the form. She checks your levels one last time before leaving you and the man alone in the room. You concentrate on the papers in front of you. You first take the pen off the clip board with your left hand then look at it confused. You stare a moment before shifting it to your right hand, then back to your left before just setting it down again and leaning over the small table as you breathe out slowly.
“You’re right handed.” The man said quietly.
You look over at him. He sits on your left side. His knees are wide apart as he leans his body forward resting his forearms on his thighs with his fingers interlaced. He was watching you struggle with the pen. You nod slowly and pick up the pen with your right hand this time. You adjust your hand to hold it properly. It feels no more comfortable than in your left but you had to start somewhere. Okay first blank, patient name. Easy enough. You write your first name, middle initial, and-
You stop in your tracks. If you’re married, you wouldn’t necessarily have the same last name that you remember. You sit and think for a moment, determined to figure it out but you keep drawing a blank. An owl was the only thing that came to your mind when you thought of your last name. You bit the inside of your cheek before you sighed frustratedly. You put the pen back on the clipboard and slid the small table towards the man.
“Can you do this?” He perked up at your words.
“Yes- of course”
A small smile showed on his face as he took the clipboard, apparently happy to help. He filled in the blanks quickly as if he didn’t even have to think about the answers. Jealousy and shame flowed into your chest. Jealous that this random man knows you better than you know yourself. Shameful because of the pressure you’re already putting on yourself. You’ve always been independent. You like it that way. You like being known as the girl who has a man because she wants one not because she needs something from one. But now, you have no choice but to put your entire trust in someone you don’t know. Trust that he was going to tell you the truth about yourself. Trust he was going to remember what meds you needed and when to take them. Trust he was going to keep you safe both from yourself and someone who might want to take advantage of your current situation. The vulnerability it took to ask for help was already wearing away at your self esteem.
“Think that’s it. I’ll go bring this to the-”
“Wait, can I look at it first” Your hesitation was evident by the little shake in your voice.
“Sure but I promise, I know most of this by heart. And the stuff I didn’t know I got a refresher for when I filled out your admission forms.” He said it, clearly trying to make conversation but it only made you feel worse. You scanned over the form. Your birthday was the only thing you remembered, aside from your name but you didn’t even remember all of that so it didn’t quite feel the same.
“Howlett” You read the name off the sheet. It felt strange to say, even more so to think it now belonged to you.
“Yeah, that’s our last name.” You nodded and handed the form back and buried your head in your knees.
“What’s wrong? Are you starting to feel worse again?” You took a pause before answering him. When you raised your head, his eyes met yours and he could see tears welling up in them.
“I don’t even know my own stupid name- or my dominant hand. I feel so useless.” Logan set the form back on the table and knelt at your bedside.
“Hey, you are not useless. You’re sick right now, don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m here and I’ll help you with anything you need. I promise. I can help fill in what you don’t know”
“Thanks.. I know you’re trying to make me feel better but knowing that you know all this and I don’t, really only makes me feel worse. This guy I don’t even know knows more about me than I do.” You could immediately see the pain on his face from your statement. Another reminder that he was included in the gaps that still needed to be filled in.
“It- It’ll come back to you. You’ll be back to yourself in no time.” He said as he stood up. It sounded like the statement was just as much to comfort him as it was to comfort you.
“I’ll be right back.” You nodded and he left the room with the clipboard.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
You changed into the clothes Logan brought you. When you were all set to leave, you were told about your follow up appointment and picked up your meds. The two of you left the hospital and walked to Logan’s truck in the parking lot. He opened the door for you and held out his arm behind you as you climbed in to ensure you wouldn’t fall. You took note of the sweet gesture. Once he got into the drivers side, he slung the backpack that had held your clothes and now held your collection of meds onto the backseat. The drive was silent for a while before you broke the ice.
“I can not believe I married a man who drives a truck.” You half-joked as your fingers played with the wedding ring you still wore.
He smiled a little sadly, both amused at your distaste for truck owners and saddened at the reminder that you didn’t remember the man you married. He swallowed down his sadness to joke with you.
“Yeah? And what kind of man would you marry?” His unexpected response made you blush.
“Well, I don’t know.. Honestly I haven’t given it much thought. I guess I’m just not the marriage type.” Logan laughed quietly.
“Yeah- I guess you’d know that already.”
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just funny that you think you’re the one who wasn’t marriage material. Normally people think that about me, not you.”
“Don’t be close minded- maybe neither of us are marriage material! Maybe those are the kinds that marry each other. I doubt most of those relationships last long though..” You regretted the words as soon as you realized what you had said.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure we’re very happy.” You bit your lip and kept your eyes glued to your hands twiddling in your lap.
Logan didn’t know what to say so he opted to say nothing. The sound of the running engine and the wind outside the vehicle were the only sounds between you. Your thoughts were swarming in your mind. You turned your eyes to the window, trying to turn off your brain and just observe the unfamiliar scenery. Trees consumed the road on either side. You saw on the form that you lived in New York in some town you hadn’t heard of.
“So how far into the woods do we live?” You turn back towards him as you said it.
“Close enough to walk into town but far enough that we don’t see our neighbors unless we’re trying to.”
You nodded and made a sound of acknowledgement.
“That’s why you smell like pine?”
“Uh, I guess. Didn’t realize I did. I guess I’m just used to it.”
“That would make sense.” You lost interest in the conversation when you realized you had turned onto a side road. From the side road you went up a driveway.
He wasn’t kidding, if you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t know there was anyone even remotely close. Trees seemed to swallow you whole as you approached the house.
“Look familiar?” He asked tentatively. You studied the outside of the house then the inside as you pulled into the garage. You wanted to say yes but in reality it looked entirely foreign.
“No, sorry.” You answered softly.
“That’s alright, I was just curious.” He tried to keep the longing sadness from his voice. He was not successful. He grabbed the backpack and left the truck. You followed him but your eyes couldn’t help traveling over the room. You stepped inside the house and mirrored Logan as he took off his boots and placed them behind the door.
He watched your movements as you hesitantly followed him. He smiled at the realization that you were almost acting like a puppy dog, eager to take in information and follow instructions but still tentative about both him and the surroundings.
“I should probably show you around,”
“Yes, please.”
It was a split level house. He showed you the basement first. The guest room, storage room, furnace room, a mostly unused living room. He explained small things about each room when necessary. As you headed back up the stairs you felt brave enough to ask more questions.
“So we live alone? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No pets? No family? No transient friends that feel comfortable enough to invite themselves over when they need a place to stay? Nothing?” Your question made Logan visibly nervous. He now stood across from you as you stood at the top of the steps.
“Uh, no. Not really. Why?” His confusion was mixing with anxiety.
“No reason.”
“..Are you uncomfortable staying alone with me?” His expression looked sad but understanding.
“Oh no, not that. Well a little. But no, that’s not why I asked.” He was silent waiting for you to explain, which you did when the silence became too uncomfortable. You forced your eyes to stay on his when you finally spoke.
“I’m just worried about you. You’re dealing with a lot, you should be with other people. People who care about you and know how to take your mind off everything. I just don’t want you to burn yourself out trying to do all this alone.” Your words hit him like a train. You were the one who was sick and you still worried about him, even when he was a complete stranger to you. He looked like he could cry. He took a half step towards you before stopping himself,
“Can I hug you?”
You nodded as you took a step closer to him, embracing him. His large arms engulfed your shoulders. He held you close like you might spontaneously vanish if he didn’t anchor you to himself. Your arms came around to his upper back where you rubbed his back lightly, trying to comfort him. When your nails softly scratched against his shirt, his face nuzzled deeper into your neck. You couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. Not that you cared either way, you understood. You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling. This large, strange, kind man had completely bent himself over backwards just to take care of you. The least you could do is try and comfort him. The two of you stood there for longer than either of you thought you would. He gave you one final squeeze before parting. He kept his hands on your shoulders for a second as he looked at you. He sniffed as he looked away and took a few steps back.
“Sorry.” His breathing was unsteady.
“Don’t be.” You shrugged. “You’re allowed to be sad. You’re kind of grieving, in a way.” Your words were meant to be comforting as much as forcing him to face the reality of the situation.
“Don’t say that, you’re going to remember. It just takes time.” There was a desperation in his voice. Like he was trying to convince you both.
“I know. I’m not saying I won’t. But right now, you’re living with someone who doesn’t know you.. The woman you know, the woman you love, is as good as dead. As of right now anyways.” He studied your face as you said it and nodded after you’d finished speaking. He bridged the gap between the two of you once more to press a kiss onto your forehead. He sighed but didn’t pull away from you when he spoke.
“Let me finish showing you around.” He whispered the words warmly against your skin.
“Okay.” You whispered in return.
As promised, he showed you the living room, kitchen, and dining area; all close together at the top of the steps. Down the hall there was a bathroom, an office, and finally your shared bedroom. He lets you walk into the room, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. You cautiously walked around the room, taking everything in. The walls were a calm green that paired well with the browns and yellows of most other things in the room. On the nightstand closest to the door there was an assortment of crystals, papers, wire wrapped shells, chapstick, handwritten notes, bracelets sitting inside a teacup, a clock, and a pair of glasses. You turned back to Logan.
“This is my side of the bed?” He nodded. You opened the drawers of your nightstand. Books, sleeping meds, pen and paper, nothing of interest upon first glance. You walked over to the other side, glancing back at Logan, searching his face for permission to poke around. You couldn’t read his expression.
“Mind if I snoop?”
“Go ahead. It’s all stuff you’ve seen before.”
You tried to turn your full attention to his nightstand but you could see him move out of the corner of your eye. He entered what you assumed was the closet, which was currently behind you. Back to trying to learn about Logan through how he kept his things. His nightstand was less cluttered than yours. There was a notepad and pen, reading glasses, a clock matching yours, and three pictures of you. One was in a frame, one was a polaroid, and the last one was printed out, you’d guess from a digital camera. All pictures were in places you didn’t remember with people you didn’t recognize. You looked happy. The picture in a frame was from your wedding. Logan and you were all dressed up, looking at each other. Although it was clear the two of you were posing, your smiles seemed genuine. The other two were candids, laughing with friends in one while in the other your face held a look of recognition like someone took the photo right as you saw the camera. You were happy or relieved to see whoever was holding the camera. You guessed Logan himself based on your relationship and where you found the photo.
“Sorry,” He moved past you and set his phone on his nightstand.
“I’m going to go shower. You’re welcome to as well, I’ll shower downstairs so if you want to, the option is there. Or wait until later, I just don’t want to smell like the hospital anymore”
“Yeah I will probably take you up on that, where do I keep my clothes?”
He directed you to where you keep your pajamas as well as showing you to your half of the closet, pointing out where you keep underwear and socks.
“Let me know if you need anything.” You nodded and thanked him. He went downstairs. You felt like looking around some more. A bin of stuffed animals under your side of the bed. Saw the books on the shelves in the office. Check out the cupboards, familiarize yourself with where things belong. Out the kitchen window, the woods catch your eye. You feel a sudden urge to go walking in the wet grass. You look towards the lower level then back at the back door. You’d surely be back before he was out of the shower. You just needed to indulge this feeling. Then you’d come right back. It’s midday, it’s not like it is dangerous at this hour.
You step out onto the patio. You walked in the directions you felt pulled in. Following some imaginary trail, bare feet sinking into the puddles in the grass. It had been an especially wet April and the heavy clouds overhead suggested tonight would follow the trend. You found a hammock in a small clearing not far from the house. You sat upright on it, like a swing. You crossed your ankles and leaned forward, palms placed beside your knees, pressing onto the fabric beneath you. The silence felt comfortable. You relaxed more than you had been in recent days. The silence allowed your mind to wander through your thoughts just as you had through the trees. The calm around you soon contrasted with the spiraling thoughts that took over your mind. It didn't feel like you had forgotten anything but logically, you knew years had passed since the last things you remember. Logically you knew Logan had to know you intimately and clearly cared deeply for you but, you didn't know how to make yourself return his feelings. There was guilt in not being who you were apparently supposed to be. You hated the pained look in his eyes he when stared at you. The hot tears that rolled down your face contrasted with the cool air around you. Your face hung down and your eyes traced the ground through blurred vision. You felt like you had been sitting here for hours. Your thoughts drowned out the once comfortable silence and along with it, Logan's panicked voice in the distance. He stumbled into the clearing.
"Jesus-” He huffed, catching his breath. “Don't run off like that. What the hell are you doing out here? How did you know where this was? Did you remember something?"
His rapid fire questions and loud voice were overwhelming.
"N-no, I don't know. I just felt like this is where I should go. I didn't mean to worry you- please don't yell at me" your plea took him by surprise as he realized his worry made him louder than he intended. He took a quick step towards you and you unconsciously flinched. He took care to make the last steps toward you slower before he crouched down so he was looking up at you. There was a gentleness that now replaced the panic in his voice.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.. I didn't know where you were or what happened. I just- you're not yourself right now, even if you had your memories, you still have a brain injury. I just don't want you to get lost. At least if you're going to go exploring, leave a note?"
You nodded and wiped away tears from your face.
"Do you want me to leave you alone out here for a while?"
"No, I'll come in with you.. I really don't know why I came out here, it just felt like I should. I don't know why." You still tried to explain yourself as you got up from your spot. Logan stood up and started leading towards the house.
"Maybe subconsciously you remember coming out here."
"Maybe.. I don't know why I would. It's not exactly nice out."
"You didn't just go when it was nice, you like being out there when you feel upset. Sometimes if we have a fight you'll go sit out there for a while. Sometimes you're upset with someone else and you drag me out there with you and tell me about it. You just don't like bringing that stuff home."
"Oh. Am I out there a lot?"
"No, not really. Sometimes you have a bad week and you'll be out a few days in a row but that's not very common. Just once in a blue moon, as you'd say." He smiles at the memory as he opens the door for you. You step in and dry your feet on the mat. He takes off his shoes and carries them to the front door. As he walked off you noticed his hair was wet and a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants had replaced his flannel and jeans from the hospital. You could really see how muscular he was through his shirt that hugged him tighter than the flannel did.
“You look better than you did at the hospital.”
“Hm? Oh, thanks.”
“Don't get me wrong you pull off the disheveled look but now you look better, like people wouldn't worry about you if they saw you like this.”
“Not sure that's the compliment you think it is.” He smiled as he said it.
“I'm aware. Still felt like you should hear it.”
“Whatever you say. Do you still want to shower now or do you want to wait until later tonight?”
“No, I'll just get in now.”
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You leaned your face towards the bottle of the more feminine looking soap, assuming it was yours, trying to use it as an olfactory trigger. It didn’t work. You got out of the shower and dried your hair in front of the mirror and something caught your eye. Your skin carried stories in the form of deep scars that decorated your body. Old bullet wounds and healed cuts lied among the new gashes and scratches from your accident. You ran your hands over some of the small lines of scar tissue, unsure if you wanted to know the stories they had to tell. You rewrapped your bandages. The bandages and cuts from your accident made you glad to have such baggy pajamas.
You left the bathroom after getting dressed and found Logan laying on your side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. He sat up when you came into the room, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Oh, hey- Sorry I know this is your side, I just-” He stumbled over his words while trying to justify his actions but you cut him off.
“You don’t need to explain, it’s alright.” You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. The kind you’d give a stranger who held a door for you.
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You spend the rest of the evening on the couch, doodling next to Logan as he reads some papers. Neither of you spoke. Eventually it came time for you to go to bed, forcing the two of you into conversation.
“I can sleep in the guest room, if you’d be more comfortable that way.” He offered as he walked you to the bedroom.
“That’s all the way downstairs, right?” You looked up at him as you sat on the bed.
“Yes.”
“Then no..” You paused after saying it.
“I can stay up here on the couch if you want me to be closer. Whatever you want.”
You shook your head adamantly. “Not whatever I want, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”
“Baby, I would be happy as a clam at high tide just sleeping on the floor at the foot of our bed.” The way the pet name so easily left his lips made you blush.
“W-well- you can be just as happy sleeping in your own bed.” He sighed in defeat before nodding.
“Alright. I can do that.” He shut the door behind him as he walked into the room.
“Given your apprehension to stay in the same bed, I assume it goes without saying but, I still don’t know you.. For you, you’re sleeping next to your wife but for me, I’m sleeping next to this man I met yesterday.. I just..” You trailed off.
“I’ll stay on my side of the bed, no problem.” He finished your thought casually.
“Thanks..”
“Of course, I just want you to feel comfortable and safe in your own home.”
“That.. means a lot. Thank you Logan.” He nodded before shutting off the lamp on his side of the bed.
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It wasn’t a particularly cold night but you still felt a chill creep over your skin under the blankets. To your memory, you had slept alone most nights so this was what you were used to. So why did you feel more alone than ever with Logan less than a foot away? You could feel the heat ghosting off his skin even from where you laid. The loneliness sank into your chest making you feel colder than you actually were. You mentally fought yourself, it was only a few hours ago that you were telling him not to touch you and now you were considering asking him to put his arm around you? Talk about mixed messages. What if he was the type of guy to take approval to cross one boundary as approval to do whatever he wanted? What if he thought this meant you had your memories again? What if-
Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Logan sighing quietly as he rolled over and shifted to get comfortable. He was awake. If you were going to ask, now would be the best time, right? You gathered your courage before you spoke.
“Logan?” You asked barely at a whisper.
“Hm?” His sleepy reply made you feel guilty for bothering him.
“Could you- .. I mean if you wanted to you could- you don’t have to but.. Um. Would you put your arm around me?”
“You want me to hold you?”
“I mean.. Only if you want to. I just- It’s cold over here and I can feel the heat coming off of you and I- .. I just feel so lonely for some reason.” Your voice dropped even quieter as you ended your statement.
“Yes, of course I will. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like; you’re allowed to push me back over to my side, alright?” You nodded as he pulled you into his broad chest. He felt warm and comforting. He kept his hand innocently at your abdomen. The two of you both slept the best you had all week. Tangled together like lovers.
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Author's second note! Thank you for reading my first true fanfiction that's been put on Beyoncé's public internet for anyone to judge. Speaking of judging I'm very open to feedback if you have any.
I want to have the next part up soon but tragically, I have two big projects coming up not to mention finals week. College is eating me alive so we'll see when I string enough coherent sentences together the next part.
PS I'm still trying to figure out pictures so that's why these three at at the bottom. If I figure it out, I'll add them at the top but uhhh we'll see
I FIGURED IT OUT LETS GOO
#fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine fluff#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett xmen#x men#we'll never have sex#a man being soft and sweet? my weakness!!
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