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#didn't know about it till recently
super-marvel-dc · 2 years
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Dean: How do you connect with a fictional character?
Soap: What?
Ghost: What?
Bucky: What?
Y/N: *pulls up a 500 slide presentation* I'm glad you asked.
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disposal-blueeee · 23 days
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from this thing on twt
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divinituscaptivus · 2 years
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Wrong Konrad, wrong saint
((I realized that, woops))
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pibsboots · 8 months
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I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.
Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.
It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.
When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.
Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.
Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.
I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.
But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.
With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.
If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.
Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.
Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.
Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.
It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.
All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.
There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year
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Scent
Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.
Minors DNI.
Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.
...
Miguel was fucking losing it. 
He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
It started with a scent.
Light at first, a barely there whiff of something. 
It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.
It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?
It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—
Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.
Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.
He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.
He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.
He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.
You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken. 
And God, did he want to take it.
"Miguel." 
He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.
It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.
You were ovulating.
He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.
"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.
He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.
"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."
He did shut up after that.
Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.
You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for. 
"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.
You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge. 
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" 
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.
“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”
Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.
“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.
He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration. 
"Mig."
“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.
“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”
One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.
He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring. 
"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”
"M'fine."
"I don't think—"
"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me." 
"What—"
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."
You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.
Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.
He was so fucked.
You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you. 
While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.
He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch. 
His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.
The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.
And...he missed you.
But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.
Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.
And still, he suffered.
...
Earth- 0708. 
A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.
Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.
And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.
You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda. 
“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.
“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.
“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.
He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.
You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.
“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.
He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.
“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.
“Shoot.” 
“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”
“O…kay.” 
Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.
“What?” 
“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.” 
“Miguel, what the fuck—” 
“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.
“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.” 
“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.” 
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”
“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.
“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”
He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?” 
“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.
“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.” 
“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”
“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—
“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.
"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.
“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.
It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.
“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.
“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”
“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?” 
Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.
“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”
“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.
“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?” 
A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal. 
“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count. 
He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.
“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.
“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you. 
“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.
“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side. 
He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.
“Wanna taste?”
He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.
You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.
“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.
“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.
He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat. 
"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.
"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste. 
"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.
"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.
"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.
Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.
"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.
You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.
"M-miguel?"
"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.
Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.
"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.
"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core. 
"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.
"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"
"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.
You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.
"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"
"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo." 
He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass. 
"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.
You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.
"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.
"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."
"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.
You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.
He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had. 
"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.
"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.
"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."
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occudo · 22 days
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An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore
-beacuse of this ask
(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)
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Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey
Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.
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enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing
Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!
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to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.
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Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art
You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!
Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.
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And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove
A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home
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neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding
To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.
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Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3
"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.
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i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs
So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!
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Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda
Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~
(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)
There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)
I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.
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fluffylino · 9 months
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pussy agenda with hyunjin
-contains mature themes
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he can't keep his hands to himself.
doesn't really have to be sexual. but likes to shove his hand down your pants to cup your mound with his hand.
it could be at any time of the day.
regardless of whether you were sitting on the couch. or standing in the kitchen. or doing anything really.
you've gotten so used to it, it doesn't even bother you.
its so casual.
like you'd be telling him about how you read some weirdly interesting article. and he'd lazily walk over to you. listening and acknowledging everything you said.
but his hand had a mind of its own. slipping in your pants, to feel your warm cunt. middle finger running along your slit. before he takes his hand out and continues talking.
there are days when he'll purposely tease you. digging his fingers just a bit in. a small smile on his face when he feels you throb. making you make a startled noise. leaving you wet and swollen.
especially after he gets home from practice. hooking his chin on your shoulder. his left hand kneading your boob and his right hand in your pants.
.
shaving as well.
once, you had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. not like you even had to. the two of you were more than comfortable.
neck aching as you made sure you didn't miss any spots. your leg raised up on the sink counter. razor still in your hand while you shaved.
you had finished with your legs and arms. and now, (as hyunjin would say) your most delicate part remained.
you groaned. jumping a bit as your eyes met with a nonchalant hyunjin. who was leaning against the door frame, hand still resting on the door knob.
"need help?"
your cheeks flushing at his outrageous question. not to mention you were half naked. you needed help. and you trusted him. but it was more because your legs ached.
"i'll help you shave" he admitted, walking in. closing the door behind him.
and he indeed did.
"you don't need to shave by the way" he reassured.
"i'd eat your precious cunt regardless" such a casual statement to make. while keeping your legs open.
"careful" you mumbled, eyes cast down to where he was kneeling down. spreading your pussy lips apart.
as if he was inspecting your folds. gentle with each stroke of the razor.
"i know. baby's delicate pussy is very sensitive" hyunjin muttered, biting his lip as he concentrated on the task at hand. eyes fixed on your pussy. it made you feel very...exposed and maybe a bit turned on. his warm breath making you feel even hotter.
and after he's done.
he kisses it. working his way up.
"gonna have my fun with you later"  pressing his cushioney lips to your freshly shaven pussy. it was almost like he was letting your pussy know well in advance.
and pulling away with accomplishment written all over his face.
cause now you were getting wet.
.
or if he's driving. (like in the recent skz code). he'd be holding the steering wheel with his left hand. his right hand intertwined with yours.
slowly getting carried away.
till his fingers are teasing your slit. rubbing against it and pressing the pads of his index into your pussy. and pulling out. and doing it all over again.
never actually pushing all the way in.
keeping his finger pressed between your folds. almost like he's having his own fun while you're squirming and closing your legs around his hand.
he's focused on driving, reading the sign boards. even asking you if you're hungry. acting normal as though his hand isn't shoved down your panties. but as i mentioned. his fingers are on auto pilot.
in conclusion,
hyunjin would do anything for your pussy. even if that includes fleeting touches.
.
.
.
.
did you like it ehe.......
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fxllfaiiry · 1 year
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❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me
★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.
★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.
★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet
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Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.
You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 
He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 
Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 
“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 
“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 
“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 
“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully
“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 
“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 
This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 
He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.
He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.
He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 
Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 
He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.
Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 
In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.
He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.
But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 
He slept like a baby that night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 
“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 
“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 
He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  
Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 
“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 
“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”
“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 
“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”
“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 
You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.
“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 
“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 
“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 
You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  
“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 
You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 
Positive. You were pregnant. 
“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 
“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 
“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 
“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 
“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 
“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 
“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.
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wifeyoozi · 5 months
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Kim Mingyu : Best Friend Rule 57
w.c : 1.6 k ┊ synopsis : the 57th rule of the bestfriend rule book states, "thou must giveth a head to thy bestie in the time of need." ┊ content warning : smut ,, best friends to ...?? ,, blowjobs ,, gn!reader ,, coming down the throat
a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read. This is just me being horny af for mingyu recently.
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This is fine, Mingyu thinks. He has shared rooms before. He has shared rooms with you before as well – with his best friend and, for a long while now, his crush. He could do this. He forces his focus on the sappy rom-com movie playing on the cable TV in the hotel room from the fact that you are pressed closed against him on the hotel bed, sharing packet popcorn with him. You are mostly eating it, he's barely even watching the movie.
Some time ago after you settled on the bed beside him, you'd huddled over to him, “Gyu, scoot over. The TV is kinda weird, I can't see properly unless I'm looking right from the centre,” You said as you snuggled against him.
Snuggled against him, until you were pressing your bare thighs to his clothed ones and your arms pressed up till there was a thin sweaty layer in between, your head resting on his shoulder.
He tried to change his position a little, gripping on the comforter tighter around his waist, just hoping you wouldn't notice his, well, little developing problem in his sweatpants.
The movie ended too soon after that and you sighed, “fun movie to waste a Saturday on, no?”
Mingyu hums, about to suggest another movie, because he's a sucker in love who'd spend two more hours suffering in silence in his pants to spend some quality time with his crush.
Instead, you opened your phone screen, reading a text, “uh, the team is doing a campfire night, you wanna join? They brought beer and all.”
“Uhm, no I'll pass tonight. A little tired,” Mingyu said with a smile as you stood up and yawned, stretching your limbs a little. The last thing he wants is to take his little problem outside this room to the rest of the coed basketball team. He'd never heard the end of it from soonyoung, and the thought alone makes him wanna die already.
He watched as you stretched your arms, your shirt sticking tight to your chest, your nipples pebbled under prominently visible. He has never looked away faster. Were you not wearing anything under that flimsy shirt? Were you planning to go to the rest of the team like that? The thought simultaneously made mingyu jealous and turned on and he tried not to let either show up on his face.
“Alright, suit yourself! Don't miss me too much,” you said, winking playfully as you walked outside the room, closing the door behind you.
Mingyu let out a big breath he didn't know he had been holding. He shakes his head before getting up and leaving to the bathroom briefly to get the box of tissues papers. He didn't have lube – of course he wouldn't bring one to his college’s basketball team picnic – so his spit would have to do.
He sighed, taking his aching dick out finally. It's not his ideal style. The bedsheet is scratchy and cold and the headboard hits his head at an awkward angle, but he shifts himself till he's fairy comfortable.
He pulls his shirt to his armpits, fingers of his one hand brushing over his nipple as he spits over his other hand and takes his dick. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, trying to bring his dick to a full erection. He glanced over to where you say beside him, impulsively grabbing your pillow and putting it against his face. Just as he imagined, your perfume lingered on the fabric of it.
He wasn't in a hurry, he knew you would take time if you were going to drink with the boys. He had plenty time.
He thought of you as he stroked himself sensually, occasionally reaching up and flicking and pinching his nipples. He feels intoxicated by your scent in him. He tugs off his boxers till it's pooled around his ankles. He slowly increases his speed, his thumb pressing over the tip where the precum leaked.
He was getting closer to his releasing, your name softly leaving his lips in whimpering whispers.
He heard the door open. Shit.
He has the exact time to either pull down his shirt or pull up his pants before you'd be face to face with him.
Not being able to think properly with his fogged mind, he chose to pull down his shirt instead, leaving his fisted cock out in the open for you to see when you entered.
Your eyes widened, a brown bag in your hand, “i, uhm, thought that, uhm, I'd get us some take out.”
You're flustered, but not as much as him. He is completely frozen, his hand doing little to hide anything about the size or hardness of his cock.
“I-i uhm,”
“That's okay!” You rushed in to say, “I, uhm, I'm your age too! People have, err, urges! That's completely normal, y’know.”
Mingyu is strongly aware of your gaze over his penis as you keep the bag of take out on the floor and climb on the bed beside him. He retreats back of shyness, bringing his knees closer to conceal himself a little.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, “uhm, y/n-”
“Shit, you're, like, so big, mingyu,” you chuckle breathily, pushing his knee away. Mingyu would almost think that it was yet one of his sick fantasies, except it wasn't. Mingyu was aware and proud of his well endowed body, but he never knew the things it would do to him hearing it from you. Suddenly mingyu didn't know what words were.
“Should I help you?” you ask him as if you were offering coffee, “friends help each other, right?”
Friends help each other. Friends help each other with a fucking erections.
“Y/n,” mingyu shudders as your finger gently hovers over his red angry tip. He'd meant to say, don't say stuff you don't mean or will regret later. Instead, the words that slip his tongue are, “don't tease.”
You chuckle slightly, “okay, gyu, I won't,” taking a firm grip of his cock above his own fist. A breathy moan leaves his lips. You meet his eyes once, staring deep before looking back at his dick, “gyu, do you think I can fit your dick in my mouth?”
And that is how kim mingyu (born 1997, sex male) died at the tender age of 21. The team would have to carry his body tomorrow. His tomb stone would say, died of blowjob offers. Mingyu thinks – nevermind, Mingyu can't think anymore. His brain is fogged up with the thought of your pretty pink lips around his cock. Fuck.
“You can try,” he mutters softly. He takes his hand off his dick, allowing you full access. You pushed your hair back and wrapped your soft lips around his head. No foreplay, no kitten licks, no jerking him off. You took him in his mouth directly, pushing your head down till you felt his dick filling up your mouth.
You sucked on the length in your mouth, wrapping your hand the remainder of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Mingyu groaned, his hands grippinng the sheets tightly. Your mouth was hot and warm and wet. So fucking wet. Your technique is a bit sloppy, but mingyu loves it nonetheless. He'd love anything with you and his dick in a single picture.
You take out his dick from your mouth, looking up at him with red lips and flushed face. Fuck, are you pretty.
“Shit, I didn't know it was this hard,” you say, chuckling, “sucking a dick, I mean. You are as hard as it can be.”
“You've… never given a blowjob before?”
“No, why would I?” It was a dumb question on his end, dumber on yours. Neither of you was thinking straight about it though, so it's fine.
“friends can help each other,” he thoughtlessly echoed your words.
“Well, not any friend,” you chuckled. “You're my best friend, gyu!”
Mingyu momentarily wondered if you were even hearing yourself. It felt like a unspoken bestie rule mingyu was unaware about till now, that you must give your best friend a head in time of need. Because you seemed so serious like this was a normal best-friends activity to do, casually sucking their dick.
“Can you shift here? The angle is awkward like this, I think I can take it better if I kneel in front of you,” you tell him, motioning towards the end of the bed. He nods without even bothering to think, shifting at the edge of the bed till his legs hungoff the bed. You shifted on the floor, in between his legs. You looked up at him, taking his leaking erection in your hand and placing it in your mouth.
You forced your gag reflexes to relax and took him as deep in your throat as you could, till your nose was buried in his pubic hair. You sucked him off genuinely, eyes staring deep into his the whole time. He held your hair back, guiding your head to bob up and down on him. He threw his head back, moaning shamelessly despite being aware of the cheap hotel walls as he recieved what felt like one of the best blowjobs he's ever had.
It didn't take long for him to cum spilling down your throat.
“Shit, I'm sorry,” he took out his dick as you choked on his cum, the remainder of it spurting on your lips and cheeks. You coughed a little but swallowed his cum. Mingyu looked at you with wide eyes, realising what you did.
You grab a tissue paper from the bedside table and wipe your mouth. You flash him a smile, “I'll take a quick shower and then we could continue watching another movies while eating the take outs. Why don't you pick this time?”
“Aren't you going for the drinks by the bonfire with the rest of the team?” Mingyu asks dumbly.
“Nahh, I'll pass. Soonyoung and Chan always end up getting super drunk, causing a mess,” you say, getting up to head to the shower.
If Mingyu saw a super wet spot in your shorts and that made his dick twitch, it's nobody's business.
Though he would be down to give you a head if you needed it after your shower. Isn't that what the besties do after all!
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luolii · 6 months
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uhmm i haven't been seeing a lot of discussion about till aside from his relationships with other competitors and i think it's something that must be addressed because i think among the competitors he's the anomaly.
unlike his peers, Till is nothing special. Ivan is beautiful and talented and so is Mizi, and they're both treated as valuable things by their alien owners because of it. You can see this in the way Ivan's constantly surrounded by attention and food and Mizi's pampered lifestyle pre-alien stage.
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but then you get to Till and he's literally just strapped to a medical table. Mizi and Ivan's "foster family" treat them with some degree of humanity, even if it's in the way that humans now treat their beloved house cats. If that's the case, Till's treated as a mildly interesting lab rat.
His owners go lengths to further dehumanize him, and you can see that from the way he's so often muzzled when no one else is. They also quite literally brand him !!
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This type of dehumanization in my opinion is also something that contributes to Till's aggressive behavior, because he is constantly in the circumstances that force him to do so.
Till is neither too attractive or too talented at singing, and I'm pretty sure he knows this --- that's why he relied so heavily on the element of gruesome surprise during his first round.
It's also worth mentioning that his unhealthy attachment to the idea of Mizi as some kind of saving grace also reflects on his own perception of himself, as some sinner in need of saving. Whenever he imagines Mizi in the Round 6 video, he is someone tainted in the colors of his captors (red) and sweaty, whereas Mizi is bright and glowing.
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He didn't expect to live past round 6, I think that's made pretty clear. His expression isn't one of someone who expects to live (especially when Mizi is now either dead or gone). His expression is of someone defeated.
Another thing about Till is that he felt alone. Ivan loves him, we knows this, but Till doesn't. The few instances we see through Ivan's eyes, his kindness towards Till is either from somewhere Till can't see or when he's unconscious. The only time we see them interact where Till is aware of what's going on is when they're fighting as kids, and their one escape attempt.
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As far as I know, Till has nothing to go off of in recent times. The only time that he's touched is by alien captors and scientists, both who see him as less than human. It's easy to be beat down and dehumanized when there is no one around you to humanize you.
No other competitor, from what we've seen, is treated as awfully as Till is treated. His idealization of Mizi stems from delusion, and there is no indication to him now that his ex-best friend Ivan still gives a shit about him.
That changes after the 6th Round though, and Till is so well set up to be a character who gets his entire worldview shattered, with Ivan's final show of affection and Mizi's disconnect from the one he has in his head (symbolized by her cut hair).
Till, a hotheaded human who is nothing special but lived on until the final round through the idealization of one competitor and the sacrifice of another ... the silliest of all time
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allforhee · 25 days
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— 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒! (ONESHOT) | LEE HEESEUNG
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୨୧ pairing — secretary-general!lee heeseung x delegate!fem!reader
synopsis: decelis high's academic weapon, future valedictorian, model un prodigy especially in the crisis council, and top-notch secretary-general of the mun club, lee heeseung has it all. from earning constant "best delegate-s" left and right, no one dared to go against his stances in any debate. until a student like you transfers into decelis high. as a soon graduating senior, you were a newbie to press. but with your endless love for writing, you'd managed to steal the hearts of your peers. it was your first mun, and you didn't expect much. but when heeseung finds out about an article you've wrote about his arrogant performance in a recent committee session, he is set to strike you down.
୨୧ genre — kinda angsty but with happy ending, high school au, secgen/crisis delegate!heeseung x press delegate!reader, academic rivals to lovers, dumbasses in denial, a brief moment of rivals in public but lovers in secret, one sided rivalry
୨୧ warnings — a lot of model un terms (hope you guys can understand), cursing, hurt no comfort, heeseung highkey hates reader, reader is a bit feisty and could care less but she lowkey has parental issues, featuring all the other enhypen members, aespa's winter aka minjeong, txt's yeonjun and beomgyu, stray kids’ i.n, gidle's shuhua, and ive's wonyoung, one bed trope, forced proximity
୨୧ word count — 13.3k (not proofread, but will slowly edit/make changes to tiny minor mistakes found)
୨୧ author's note — dear readers, i'm back from a long overdue hiatus with a new layout and theme! this fic is long as HELL i didn't expect it to reach this long omg. i also changed up a couple details so it will be quite different from the teaser! i’m so sorry for the long overdue wait, senior year of high school has been so hectic, and i’ve been finally able to finish this so enjoy :) omg holy shit y’all are finally reading my full length fic i’ve been harboring since what? february?
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 had it all.
the walls of his room were littered with delegate lanyards from conferences across the globe, "best delegate" certificates framed all over his house (and a couple crumpled up inside his desk to fit the space), and a collection of trophies stood in every nook and cranny.
no one at decelis high dared to go against his stance. whenever it was, whether it was a moderated caucus or unmoderated, he'd always have his country or character's placard raised high, ready to speak, or leading whatever bloc was being formed.
there was no doubt that no one had ever beat him. it was no doubt that he was decelis high's mun club's secretary-general, and those who chose to go against him either got crushed in fear or knew when to step back.
even with his "best delegate" status, he wouldn't have gone far without his best mates, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon.
park jongseong or jay, most known for his cold stares in the debate room, ready to make a delegate tremble, would always chair crisis. he was decelis high's deputy secretary-general alongside heeseung. and although being heeseung's best mate, he never favored him when it came to awarding. it's just that he was naturally talented.
sim jaeyun, known for his popular slogan around the school; "jake it till you make it!", was the strongest when it came to knowing what a country or character believed in. his research skills were like a pirate on the hunt for lost treasure, he had all the facts, the data, and the proof to back up any stance. whatever heeseung needed to know, jake already had his back.
and park sunghoon. even though he was the quiet one of the bunch, his position papers never ceased to appeal to any chair. even if he wasn't as strong in speaking out during committee sessions, his fingers were his weapon. the guys would always ask him why'd he chair press and not join in the heat with them, he'd always answer with "my words are stronger than my actions." where jay would always respond with "isn't that the other way around bud?"
the four were unstoppable when it came to model un. lee heeseung was unstoppable. he was. until you came along.
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you were quiet at first. everyone just saw you as the new girl who transferred for her senior year. nobody cared. until decelis high's annual mun conference, which happened to take place a couple weeks after the first day of school.
students from all over the country gathered at decelis high once a year to join in on the fun. various councils were presented at decelis mun, from heeseung's favorite council, crisis, and multiple others like unhrc, who, unsc, disec, unicef, and your favorite, press.
without a doubt, you registered yourself for press, opting that you didn't have the guts to join any other council. you feared you'd tremble listening to another delegate question your stances and ideologies.
your parents would always encourage your writing. as a child, you loved to write little imaginary stories about your life as a princess. writing stories about the love you've seen in your parents, you were set to write a book. but when your mom passed away a few weeks before your senior year of high school, and your dad constantly traveling for work, you had resorted yourself to watching the news all summer long, spiking your interest in being a journalist, where all you had to do was report whatever was going on, spit out what had to be said, and done. you didn't need to think long and hard on what your character was supposed to do next to support the storyline, no opinions, no biases.
as you stepped into your assigned council's room, you felt a gush of wind. the nervousness had gotten to you more, seeing all the socially bright journalists with their laptops open and chatting amongst each other happily.
"hi! you're a new face! oh and you're cnn! me and you will be best buddies! bbc here!" a girl squeals, she has a bright smile and a oh-so friendly demeanor. no doubt a popular trait amongst the press council.
"minjeong! don't scare her off. we're so sorry, she sometimes comes off a bit too much to new people. i'm wonyoung, the co-chair for press." she introduces herself.
"oh, hello. i'm y/n. i just transferred to decelis this year. it's my first time at press." you smile. you lost all your socialite cheerfulness over the summer, but meeting minjeong and wonyoung felt like you've been recharged. "oh and i'm the journalist for cnn?"
the girls take a glance at your nametag, examining you, before wonyoung cuts, "first time? don't worry sweetheart, we'll tell you all about it! right hoonie?"
a tall figure walks up to the three of you, no doubt a intimidating face. "y/n right? i'm sunghoon, the chair for press." he asks.
"yes yes this is her! oh we've got to tell her all about press! first timer alert!" wonyoung beams, before entangling her hand with sunghoon's. there was no doubt that the two were a couple.
"ugh, okay you two cut it off! we're journalists, we gotta be professional!" minjeong argues, playfully slapping wonyoung's arm, causing her to let go of sunghoon's.
at first, you had no idea what you were stepping into. but when chair sunghoon welcomed you to press with his icy-blue eyes and quiet demeanor, the other journalists supporting each other when it came to writing their articles, you felt right at home.
it didn't feel like it, but two days of endless debates went on, countries arguing left and right, and articles written on the current hot topic. the tension was surely rising, and your fingers were tired.
you were glad it was all over.
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at every post-conference social, before awards were handed out, the articles the journalists from press wrote would be released to the conference for the other delegates to read. besides their usual gossip box, the articles the press wrote were always the fuel to the fire.
one article stuck up to heeseung. it read; "secretary-general heeseung's love for crisis interferes chair jongseong's chairing process, now who's really chairing crisis?"
heeseung swore to himself that he's never seen a girl like you. so quiet yet so powerful in her writing. hearing rumors that you've only just recently transferred to decelis high. even sunghoon himself was surprised to meet a talented journalist like you, a first-timer at press.
"it was her first time?" heeseung protested, "i mean- she's so quiet and reserved, if she had been doing press for years, i wouldn't be surprised. but this is her first time?!"
"what do you mean she's quiet? look at hoon, he never says a word in comses, but look at him chairing press. and i would never mind you tagging along in crisis, you always give out good insights." jay interrupts his thoughts.
heeseung complains, "i understand that, but her innocent face says nothing to what she wrote about me!"
"her articles were critical. they were precise and to the point. there was never a single weak spot in her articles. i think she's gonna make a run for my position." sunghoon defends.
"it's just one article hee, it won't affect your entire track record anyways." jake compliments, giving him a pat on the back.
heeseung believed what jake said was true. he did have an outstanding track record. "best delegate"s here and there, one silly little article wouldn't ruin his entire reputation.
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as the clock strikes seven, social night was slowly coming to a close. decelis high's third annual mun was coming to an end. all that was left was to hand out the awards.
heeseung made his secretary-general speech as usual, a couple thank you-s here and there, before he handed it over to the chairs to announce the awards.
as he was walking down the stage, he felt a couple stares from mostly the press council linger. fixing his tie, he shook it off before taking a seat in the front row.
awards were handed, from best position papers, verbal commendations, honorable mentions, most outstanding delegates, and of course, best delegates.
the press council was saved for last. sunghoon asked heeseung if he could be given more time to rethink his options for the awards, and as his best mate, he let him. in reality, sunghoon didn't need time to rethink his options. he and wonyoung knew who was going to win best journalist. sunghoon just wanted to save the best for last.
when heeseung hears sunghoon's announcement for best journalist, it clicks.
"and the press council's best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"
cheers could be heard from across the conference room. minjeong practically jumping on you when they heard your name mentioned. you rushed to the stage with a red face and a still shocked reaction, receiving the certificate along with the medal. wonyoung gave you the biggest bear hug known to man, whilst sunghoon gave you a firm handshake.
you felt the cameras flashing at you, taking pictures from what felt like every single angle. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was glaring at you from the front row.
best journalist. best journalist? his mind was running all over the place. how could he? how could sunghoon, his best friend, let such a writer like you, who wrote a devious article about him, win best delegate?
a single glance at the other delegates of the press council only angered him more. amongst them were laughs and snickers. he swore he heard a journalist say; "looks like mister secgen is upseeet!" but decelis mun only happened once a year. he wouldn't have the need to care about you every other day.
or so he thought.
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heeseung felt like you were everywhere. at every lunch break, you were always sitting across his and the boys' table, laughing at nonsense with yunjin and wonyoung. during free periods, you'd be at the library, hunched over your laptop or head deep in a book. and at mun club, you just had to be there.
he hated that you were gifted like him. he hated that his friends favored you. he hated that sunghoon would always send you to their rival school's muns to participate in their press councils. he hated that you always won. he hated that you were clouding his mind every single day.
you hadn't but uttered a single "thank you," to lee heeseung. as decelis high's secretary-general, you didn't think he'd care about you. you were just a writer. you had no strength in the debate field, no reason for lee heeseung to care. but why was he being so cold?
it started when you applied for the harvard model congress. you were ecstatic to find out you'd be attending the conference. obviously, you told minjeong and wonyoung all about it. even striking up small talk with sunghoon.
"that's amazing y/n. i mean, harvard model congress? that's big!" his tooth-rotting smile bringing a cheerful mood.
"you went from winning best journalist in schools across the state to varsity level in just a few months!" minjeong squeals, as she hugs you. you were really lucky to have such caring best friends.
laughing along in the mun club room, you could feel heeseung's glare from his desk. headphones on and focused onto his laptop screen, you felt a strange feeling resonating off of him.
heeseung was fuming. the entire club applied for harvard model congress. heeseung got in. his mates did. and of course, you also did.
it was supposed to be a three day long weekend with his mates full of debate, laughter, awards, and getting drunk on social nights. but no. you and your friends would be there too.
heeseung didn't understand why everyone was so trusting of you so easily.
even jay, was friendly with you. "well y/n, i think you're going to make a run for hee's job!"
wonyoung rolls her eyes at jay. "he should be scared. you've rose up through the ranks like jake's receeding hairline."
"hey! my hair is perfectly fine, thank you!" jake cuts, huffing at the ridiculous comment about his hair.
"yo hee! we gotta work out the letter to the school so we can get a few days off. come over here, you look like you're burning holes into your laptop!" jay chuckles, receiving a smack on the arm from jake.
a quick but surprising slam! from heeseung's laptop emitted a low echo throughout the room. followed by a ruffling of him throwing his decelis almameter over his shoulder, and another loud slam! of the mun club room's door. lee heeseung just stormed out.
"oof, what's got into him?" minjeong asks, her face contorting into an anxious look.
"i don't fucking know, he's been at it since decelis' annual mun. throwing temper tantrums left and right." jay sighs, concerned for his best friend.
"well i guess that temper is living up to my article." you suggest, letting out a huff and a subtle eyeroll.
sunghoon takes a deep breath before realization hits. "now that i think of it, he's been at it since you've joined our core team." while he points at you.
"what does that have to do with me? i didn't do shit. all i do is sit, join muns, write, and win awards for us. would he rather i'd be getting verbal commendations instead?" you sigh. you've done nothing but bring pride to decelis high's reputation.
wonyoung laughs, patting you on the back. "it's not about winning verbcom or bestdel, it's about heeseung finally finding his match."
"exactly! he's gone on and on about constantly winning at every mun. he's always complained about needing more of a challenge. and no shit he's been jealous of your achievements." minjeong pipes in.
"that's ridiculous. i don't understand crisis as much as he does, i'm just a journalist on the press council! he's basically just being an ass to me, that's all." you confessed, you and heeseung were basically on different levels. he was secgen and lover of crisis councils, whilst you were just one of the head journalists and co-editors of the press division.
"maybe he likes you? i don't know!" jake squeals, lifting his shoulders in question. jay and sunghoon gives him a slap on the shoulder each, a glaring stare between the three.
"no no, lee heeseung is a cold-hearted son of a bitch with an ego to feed every other day, there's no way he can feel shit." minjeong debates, a hint of anger in her voice.
"woah girl, what's got you mad? i get you two grew up together but that's a lot to say about heeseung." wonyoung asks her.
"i know it's a long story, but y/n deserves to know. right?" minjeong asks, waiting for you to nod to continue. "every single day of my life, i was my parents' star girl. i love my parents for supporting me. but ever since heeseung moved in next door, i was demoted from best girl in the neighborhood to second best to heeseung. ever since we were eight, heeseung didn't like to lose. to a boy he'd be a good sport. but when he lost to me in a mere storytelling competition, he'd throw a tantrum. that's heeseung to me. he's nothing but an egotistical ass who has to win everything."
you sigh, hearing minjeong’s words. "and you know what y/n?" she continues, "he's never lost it since we were 13. and you, y/n, have officially made him lose his mind. again."
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this year's harvard model congress was held at seoul national university, the dream university of many korean students. the seven of you stayed at a hotel nearby, settling in.
sunghoon picks up the keycards at the check-in counter, "okay so there's three rooms in total, the girls are sharing, me and jake are in one room, which leaves heeseung and jay—"
"i'm sorry sir," the hotel staff interrupts him, "but the rooms are already divided by the hotel and cannot be changed. it says here, room 745 is for miss kim and miss yang, room 746 is for mister park, mister sim, and the other mister park— mister jongseong, and room 777 is for—"
"great. thank you. alright, let's settle in and get ready for opening night." heeseung sighs, grabbing his suitcase and your shared room's keycards before heading to the elevators. you gave the rest of the group a shaky smile before following heeseung.
the moment you two entered the lift, and as heeseung tapped the keycard and pressing the button for the seventh floor, you could feel the tension.
as the lift begins to move upwards, heeseung lets out a sigh. "look, l/n. we're sharing a room by casuality, so don't make it a big deal."
you huff shakily, "a big deal? you're the one who's been avoiding me all year! i barely disturb you and all i do is win awards for decelis. what else do you want from me?" your voice slowly getting angrier.
as heeseung opens his mouth to answer, the lift comes to a halt as its doors open, signaling that they've reached the seventh floor.
heeseung holds the lift doors open, so you can exit it with ease. you were surprised with this gesture. coming from him who could care less about your presence, you were baffled.
as you both reach at your hotel room, heeseung gave you one of the three keycards given before tapping his at the hotel room's door.
and as if your romance stories came to life, you spotted an oh-so familiar trope sitting in the middle of your hotel room. there was only one king-sized bed.
"shut the front door." you sighed, looking at the clear situation in front of you.
heeseung entered behind you, "i clearly have, what are you talking abou—"
"no dumbass, it was a metaphor. i'm talking about this." you exclaimed, pointing your finger at the bed.
"great. i'll call up room service and get this sorted—"
"no it's fine, it'll be too much of a hassle and social night is in two hours. besides, we're civil adults, and we're here for only two nights. we can bear 72 hours living through this stupid one bed trope."
"fine. just so you know i'm taking the left side."
heeseung dropped his bag near his side, as he was trying his best to keep his composure. sharing a room with you was bad enough (that's what he keeps telling himself), but a bed as well? he'd rather win verbal commendation than share a bed with you.
you were unpacking your necessities before you decided to break the ice. "heeseung just so you know—"
but before you could finish, heeseung was already out the door. before the door closed, you could hear a mere; "i'll go down for social night. you do you." and a click! of the door.
you scanned the room that was once filled with such tension, spotting your room keycard on the bedside table.
you took off your sweater and switched to something a bit classier for social night, changing to a blood red dress you had packed to match harvard's colors. minjeong and wonyoung had helped you choose it a couple days prior, the conversation reappearing in your mind.
"harvard's got nothing on you with that dress! watch out best journalist!" minjeong hypes you up as you're trying it on in the changing room.
"are you sure it's not a bit too much?" you questioned, feeling insecure in the dress.
"too much? my guess is heeseung would drop dead seeing you in that dress. after all, he is in love with you." wonyoung giggles, which earns her a slap on her arm from winter.
"just own it y/n. maybe layer it with a leather jacket if you get cold?" minjeong suggests. you look at yourself in the mirror once more. maybe this would be the turning point between you and heeseung's rivalry. maybe he'd look at you and decide that he no longer hated you and instead loved y— no. enough of those thoughts.
as you touched up your makeup from earlier this morning, you headed out to find wonyoung and minjeong waiting at the lobby.
"there you are— oh that dress looks, damn!" minjeong exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the utter shock.
"i just know heeseung's going to gape at that dre—" before wonyoung could finish her sentence, she earns a smack on her arm from minjeong. "ow minie! i don't want my arm to be black and blue at social night! which starts in... thirty minutes. we should get to campus and fill in our registrations so we're set."
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opening night was a blast. harvard model congress knew how to throw a goddamn banger of a opening night.
there were so many things to see. a karaoke booth, a photobooth station, a merch station, even a snack booth filled to the brim with various snacks and drinks.
after receiving your lanyards and a couple papers where you'd find your assigned councils for the next day, you, wonyoung, and minjeong, were set to let lose one last time before you were head deep into your laptops, writing articles for the next three days.
entering the room littered with decorations and other delegates, you and the girls entered the ballroom hand in hand, in awe with the decor.
wonyoung spotted the boys immediately, already saving a table for the seven of you. the three of you walked to the table, which had name plates for all your names. wonyoung next to sunghoon, jay next to jake, minjeong on your right next to you, and heeseung on your left.
sitting at the assigned seats and listening to the opening remarks by harvard model congress' secretary-general, the food was served and you all dug in.
although this was only the first of two social nights, you and the girls had to make the best of it. from abusing the “free photobooths!” booth, and filling the room with echoes of musical ballads, your first night at harvard model congress was deemed memorable.
before you knew it, you were dragged to the back of the room, as wonyoung pulled out a small paper bag—which turns out to hold a couple bottles of liquor, you grabbed your glasses and started pouring.
you could see out of the corner of your eye—the girls downing shots of tequila (in secret, cause you didn't want to get caught), and the guys coming along to take a shot or two. but heeseung looked, tense.
jake slapped him on the back, giggling, “come on man, loosen up a bit! mun isn’t all about the awards and the roles, it’s about the memories!”
“and the friends we make along the way, am i right?” jay chimed in, with a teasing tone.
before you knew it, heeseung grabbed an entire bottle and downed what was equivalent to maybe 4 shots, wonyoung squealed, arguing the fact that it was a very expensive bottle of liquor.
“dude! that’s from my dad’s cabinet, it’s at least 500.000 won!” she argued, grabbing the bottle out of his hands.
as you tried to ignore his gaze, minjeong gave you your first shot—which you downed immediately, but it only made you feel like heeseung’s gaze was burning holes into you more.
heeseung sighed, “give me another one.” holding his hand out for someone to pour him a shot. “come on, i don’t got all day.” before sunghoon poured him another shot—which he downed immediately.
you hated the feeling of his stare. it felt, uncomfortable, but you liked it? the more he stared, the more you downed more shots. before you knew it, opening night came to a close, and you were stumbling your way down the hallway with wonyoung and minjeong, before finally finding your room. and in your drunken state, you passed out.
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burning pain. your eyes couldn’t handle the bright light emitting from what seemed to be all around you. as you open your eyes, head spinning, you flopped back down onto your bed, exhausted, and with the hotel room ac, you felt frozen.
but as you get comfortable onto the bed once more, you feel a sense of warmth engulf your body. it felt welcoming. comfortable. maybe a bit too comfortable for your sake. but the warmth was soothing. it was, moving?
you shot back out of the bed, trying to rub your eyes to focus back onto the warmth, but that warmth pulled you back into its embrace. as if it needed you to survive.
as you try to recollect the events of last night, your usual 7am alarm rung. what a great way to ruin the moment.
a groan echoed from that warmth you once clung to, a familiar sound, a familiar… voice?
“l/n, what time is it?” it asked.
fuck.
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"chill y/n, you'll be fine." you whisper to yourself, walking to your assigned council's room. from the rest of the journalists in your gang, you had been assigned to report on different councils. while wonyoung and winter were assigned to report on the ASEAN council, sunghoon to report on the UNHRC council, you were unfortunately assigned to the crisis council. just to your luck. your mind was still stuck in what happened this morning. you met your chairs, shuhua and beomgyu, role call was held, and your first committee session began.
while you were typing away a starting paragraph for an article, a bright face comes to greet you. "oh hello, l/n y/n right? i'm jungwon, the journalist for KBS! i sit right next to you in our council room."
"oh hello! i'm y/n, reporting for the new york times, it's nice to meet you." you smile, offering a hand out for him to shake, which he accepts.
"so, you got assigned to crisis too huh?" jungwon asks as you nod, "honestly it's one of the worse councils to report on because everything is moving... too fast." he sighs.
"i don't mind the speed, it gives me inspiration to write. but everyone has their capacities right?" you try to reason, whilst jungwon gives an agreeing nod.
not long after some small talk before you could enter crisis' council room, another boy tags along. his bright smile clearly infectious as you and jungwon couldn't help but smile at his bright appearance.
"annyeong! nice to meet you i'm sunoo!" he smiles, his blonde hair reflecting the lights in the room.
you shake his hand as a boy with blonde hair and black streaks tags along behind him before slapping the blonde’s arm, "i'm nishimura riki, you can call me riki. can’t believe i flew all the way from tokyo for this."
“yah! your writing is fine riki, your good shots will steal the show.” sunoo assures him, before looking back at you, and smiling.
riki sighs, before turning on his camera “i wanna get the redhead over there, heard he’s super good at mun or something..”
you blink as you realize riki was talking about none other than—heeseung.
"oh him? yeah he's my secgen." you tell him, the sentence floating out of your mouth. jungwon and sunoo turn to you with gaping mouths.
"wait- what? he's YOUR secgen? THE lee heeseung?" jungwon exclaims.
you furrow your eyebrows, "um, yeah? what's the big deal about him?"
sunoo's face lights up, as he prepares his words. "girl, he's the most highest ranking student in the high school mun circuit! his countless awards and times he's chaired makes him a legend. he's a literal model un weapon, even delegates with the veto powers are scared of him." he explains.
as you open your mouth to respond to his comment about heeseung, one of the chairs of the crisis council exits the room to greet you.
"ah hello journalists, you're here. i'm yeonjun, the head chair for crisis. we currently have unmod going on right now so you're just in time. we'll give you guys a couple opportunities to interview the delegates, but please be mindful." he explains.
you and the three boys smile back at him, before he opens the council room door and lets you in.
"delegates! i'd like to introduce to you all the journalists from the international press institute council, who will be observing our committee session. we have yang jungwon from KBS, kim sunoo from associated press, nishimura riki from NHK, and y/n l/n from the new york times. please treat them with the upmost respect.
a couple delegates say their greetings, and even explaining the current debate going on, as the four of you smile back at them. the crisis council was a popular council, and you can tell that from the amount of delegates in the room.
as you return your laptop back into your messenger bag and pulling out a notepad, a pen, and some sticky notes, you look back up only to lock eyes with heeseung. his gaze was deadly. you give him a slight smile, which he responds with an eyeroll.
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the only thing you hated about being a journalist was the interviews. you needed to research, but having to interact with people you don't know? you'd rather kill yourself. it just happened that heeseung's stance was interesting enough for you to pass a post-it note to him, which he threw away.
so you were surprised to see him walk towards you during break, as you had thought he had rejected your interview offer.
"l/n, you wanted to interview me?" he'd asked you, no bad tone in his voice.
you looked at him surprised, kinda shocked, "umm, yeah? are you okay with that."
"i'm good. just, make it quick."
you open your notes to find your question you wanted to ask him, "um, do you mind if i record?" you asked, which he nodded. "okay, so as the delegate of colombia, what steps would you take to face the ongoing drug trade happening in your country? as a journalist, we have not seen you speak up much lately, so i'd like to know your thoughts."
"um, thank you for the interesting question, well i think—"
it was unlike him to treat you like this. unlikely for him to keep his cool. as you try to remember the words he was saying as you hold out your phone to record him, nothing was catching on. it was as if words went in one ear and out the other. 
he was so professional. the way he walks, and the way he talks—the way his lips move when he talks, the way he explains his stance—the way he’s saying the words—the way his lips move to pronounce it, oh and the way he-
“l/n? are you done? i’m wasting my precious break time here.” heeseung asks you, breaking you out of that trance.
you compose yourself, hitting the stop button on the voice recorder app, “oh yeah, sorry, i was thinking of another question to ask you—got carried away…”
heeseung rolls his eyes at you, before thanking you and scurrying away.
what had gotten into you? you’ve never seen heeseung in that way before. he’s always been just a secretary-general to you. who also happens to hate you. you think. 
but as the unmoderated caucus comes to a close, you return back to your council room, ready to write an article on heeseung’s stance. after all, you still had a day’s left worth of committee sessions, as well as a press conference held at the crisis council. 
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the press council room was chiming with the clicks and clacks of keyboards, journalists writing articles left and right. you were in the middle of writing once again another filler article, as you had no idea what to write for your mandatory article. as you look through your gallery, observing pictures you took earlier for your articles, you can't help but notice heeseung in his element.
as you're typing a possible title for your mandatory article, you hear from beside you, "hey, what's going on with you and heeseung?" sunoo asks, as you turn to him in shock, as you were in the middle of writing an article.
you laughed nervously, "what? nothing's going on between us. he practically hates me." you sigh.
jungwon pulls his chair over to you, placing his laptop on your table in the process, "i don't think so. not from what i saw last night."
you gasped at what he said, "and what i saw this morning! i could practically feel the tension emitting off the two of you as you were interviewing him. i've never seen a man so intrigued before." riki chimes in.
"this morning? nothing happened, i was interviewing him on his stances and whatsoever for a possible article! that's all to it!" you defend yourself, trying to get back into your article.
"y/nie, sweetie, i've seen way too many kdramas to tell that the way he's looking at you, is a look of love~" sunoo teases, smiling as if he knew something more.
jungwon and riki laughes at your expression, which seemed to resemble a disgusting look, but underneath that, you felt a sting in your heart. not a bad sting, a good sting.
"but hey you two seemed pretty cozy last night, i wonder what that was for?" jungwon asked.
riki gasps, "hey i took a picture! wait let me find it..." as he pulled out his camera, going through the camera roll. "here! you guys were dancing together a lot, and he basically was carrying you back to your room. what, did you guys get drunk or something?"
you choked on your water, as the events of last night start piecing together. "i remember taking a couple shots, he did too, but all i remember after that is falling asleep on my bed... i assumed my friends helped me to get back but now that i think of it... they were pretty drunk too."
taking another closer look at the pictures riki happened to capture, you saw two beaming smiles, and from the looks of it, it looked like you two were having fun. you've never seen him smile this much, let alone around you. the other picture resembled like a married couple. it was as if heeseung was trying to pick you up, but by the looks of your drunken states, it wasn't really working.
"wouldn't it be really funny if you guys accidentally fucked or something? that would explain the tension!" jungwon jokes.
you shake your head, before putting your face in your hands, "no way, not in a million years. our tension is, well, our tension! it's what happens normally!" you try to defend.
"no you're right won, they totally fucked. i mean the floor you guys are on? most of the rooms have king or queen sized beds. what would you guys be doing other than that? snuggling into each other till the sunrise?" riki assumes, scoffing afterwards.
your eyes widened in shock, as if jungwon cut your brain opened and took out the events of what happened this morning. you put your head in your hands once more before beginning to cry.
riki saw your reaction, "hey i didn't mean it that way! i mean it's- um... great? if you fucked? but if not then that's like, totally okay! i mean sex isn't for everyone—"
sunoo cut him off, shooing him away, "stop making it worse, ki-yah! y/nie? will you tell us what happened?"
you sniffed, not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears, maybe it was the frustration? you grabbed a tissue to compose yourself, "i don't know... all i remember is i woke up this morning, in his arms, and i just jumped out and got ready. we didn't even talk about it. all of a sudden he's back to his old self and he's being mean to me again."
you take a deep breath, sunoo rubbing you on the back, trying to calm you down. "he's been like this ever since i transferred. i was just the new girl who was a press prodigy, that's what they called me back at decelis, and i don't know, he's hated me every since. no reason whatsoever. i've tried to win his attention by winning muns and stuff but, it doesn't matter. he looks at me as if i disappoint him."
jungwon and riki both comfort you as well, before jungwon has a strike of realization. "you know, it's not that i wanna stir up delusion in your mind, but it's quite common for guys to hate someone because they like them. what if he has a crush on you?"
riki realizes as well, "yeah what if? what if all this time he's been trying so hard to hate you because he actually likes you?"
hearing the words likes you come out of their mouths makes you shudder in fear. no way he likes you. right?
before you knew it, your chair returns to announce that press conferences are due to start soon. and up first? was the crisis council.
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stepping foot into the crisis room, with the information in mind, you start to notice the tiny little characteristics that match with the fact. the fact that the lee heeseung might as well have a crush on you. as you, sunoo, and two other journalists were guided to the front of the room, your chair explaining to the crisis delegates how the press conference was going to work, before giving the floor to the journalists.
you keep your head hung, distracting yourself by re-reading the questions you’ve written on your notepad, peeking through your hair, trying to take a glimpse of heeseung.
heeseung was in his element as always, head deep in his laptop, a couple volunteers passing by to give him a post-it note, filled with scribbles of other delegates wishing to be on his side. but as per usual, his critical self crumples the notes and puts it aside to his pile of other crumpled notes.
sunoo, on your left, nudges you in the arm, trying to snap you out of it. the moment you lift your head to look at the delegates and compose yourself, you catch heeseung looking at you.
with your bloodshot eyes, your usual smile fading, heeseung can’t help but notice what happened. you were fine last break. your eyes which used to be sparkling with curiosity had been traded for puffy eyes and a fake smile.
he wanted to come up to you, wanted to ask what’s wrong. but as your chair introduced the journalists, he’d wonder if it was just an impulsive thought.
each journalist had to share 10 minutes worth of press conference time to ask questions, a tight amount of time. as the journalist on your far left begins, the clock begins to tick. being the last journalist to ask, you begin to feel worried.
but as the mic is passed to you, and mere two minutes left on the clock, you scramble to compose yourself and your questions. “this journalist would like to open the question to the floor, with the excessive drug trade impacting the economy of your countries, what is an effective solution you’d have to decrease the drug circulation, but at the same time, would not damage your economy?”
placards were raised, and amongst them, were heeseung’s. you could see the colombian flag on his placard raised high, but as the journalist of the new york times, your work came first. therefore, you chose someone else. “yes, delegate of the united states?”
the delegate of the united states stood up, and you finally saw the name on his nametag. yang jeongin. he smirked at you, sending a wink. “thank you madam journalist for the intriguing question, as the drug trade across our country begins to increase…”
as you held your hand forward holding your phone out to record his answer, continuing to talk for the next minute. it felt like a lifetime. but in the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze burning holes. heeseung held his placard high, glaring dead straight at jeongin even if he was still speaking. but as you thank jeongin for his answer, you open the question once more to the floor.
you hear a screech of the chair as heeseung, the only one holding his placard up, stands up to answer. but you don’t discern anything he says. you just stare at him. before you knew it, the clock rang, signaling that time was up.
sunoo nudged your arm once more, trying to snap you out of it. “you okay?” he asked, worry written all over his face. you nodded to tell him you were okay.
as you were escorted out of the room to head to the hotel restaurant for lunch break, you couldn't help but feel the same feeling of heeseung's gaze at the back of your head. you ignored him, walking out with sunoo by your side.
but you were stopped briefly by someone, none other than the delegate of the united states. "hey, that was a very interesting question you asked earlier at press conference. i was wondering if you need my insight on anything? given as i'm usa and you're the new york times." jeongin suggests, his usual smirk returning from before. sunoo winked at you, before leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.
you blink at him, "oh! yeah, i was thinking about gaining insight from, well our country's side of the story. so what can you tell me?"
your notepad flips open along the click of your pen, ready to jot down his words, before out of the corner of your eye, that sharp gaze returns. the burning stare heeseung emitted was back. you gulped and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "hey, um jeongin? could we find somewhere a bit more quiet so i can record the interview? i need to make sure everything is clear because i need to submit the questions to my chairs."
jeongin smiled, "of course sweetheart, i know just the place." before he took your hand and led you away. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was fuming.
as the two of you walked away, heeseung couldn't help but wonder. what's so great about yang jeongin anyways? compared to himself, his track record was not all that. yeah he may have won most outstanding or honorable mention a couple times, but never best delegate. consecutively.
heeseung felt a tap on his shoulder, before briefly turning around. jay was standing there with a cup of coffee. he grabbed it out of his hands before immediately drinking out of it.
"that's! hot coffee..." jay protested. but to heeseung, his rage burned hotter. "what's got your panties in a twist?" jay asked, sipping his own cup of coffee.
"nothing, just pissed at a delegate. per usual." heeseung lied. as the two begun to make their way to restaurant to eat lunch.
jay chuckled, seeing his pissed face, "dude, i've known you for over eight years, you don't get pissed at a delegate for no reason. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, everyone here? they're basically professionals. mun legends. i wouldn't have afford this shit if i wasn't good at it. the awards and prizes helped fund this hobby."
heeseung sighed, "it's not just a delegate. it's someone else."
"it's y/n, isn't it?" heeseung snapped his head to glare at jay, as if he grew three heads. "chill dude, i can tell. you're painfully in love with her."
"no no no, you don't get it, she's a menace to my track record. do you remember back at decelis mun before she transferred? her article basically ruined my record the next five muns? i basically had to avoid chairing so the rumors wouldn't be deemed true." heeseung argued, reminiscing the times.
"but you'd argue she's a damn good writer, isn't she?" jay defended, "i mean no one from decelis has won consecutively aside from you. and she comes in to make the decelis name proud. aren't you glad? you're secgen after all. you're just in denial."
heeseung sighed, looking at his cup of coffee, once full, now empty. "i'm not in denial! i'm just stressed with a couple delegates in committee session, unmoderated caucus was, stressful."
entering the restaurant, their eyes landed to the corner booth, where you sat face to face with jeongin. jay turned his head to look at heeseung staring deadset at the two. "well, whatever floats your boat man, i'm gonna get some lunch. unsc might as well go to crisis next comses." jay pats him on the back, joining sunghoon, jake, wonyoung, and minjeong.
heeseung stood still. he couldn't help but wonder. is this what love feels like?
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"so, yang jeongin, what can you tell me about the united states' stance on the current illegal drug trade? i assume that the country is fully aware of it happening?" you ask, pressing record on your voicenotes app.
jeongin looked around, before reaching over and pressing the stop recording button on your phone. before you could protest, "okay cut the crap, what's going on between you and lee heeseung?"
you looked at him strangely, not expecting the sudden confrontation. "well, nothing? i don't know what you want me to say, this isn't part of the interview."
jeongin dug into his food, "screw that shit, i wanna know why your secgen is all on my ass. i mean i looked at you once at comses earlier, and he looked at me like i lit an orphanage on fire."
you almost choked on your pasta, "what the hell, dude. he's just like that. he hates my guts so much he has to make me feel uncomfortable everywhere i go. i literally bring home decelis as many awards as he has in the past two years. i don't get him."
"nah, i don't think that's hate. he looked at me as if he was clyde and i was trying to steal away his bonnie. that's a look of love."
you sighed, "the thing is jeongin, he doesn't care. i've done everything to pique his attention, best journalist awards left and right, i was supposed to run for deputy secgen but he didn't let me. he said i wasn't a true decelis muner yet. i mean 8 muns in the span of a couple months? and i've never lost a single one? he probably hates me because i chose the lamest council."
jeongin swallows his food before he comes to realization, "hey weren't you the journalist who wrote on heeseung back at decelis' mun? i remember felix-hyung, my friend, that he went feral over it. he was chairing unicef, and in the chairs' room, he overheard heeseung talking about your article. how it was going to ruin his track record, or something."
"i mean, i do remember briefly. wonyoung, my chair, said i was allowed to write about the chairs or staff, even if they were filler articles. i wrote about heeseung and jay out of interest, i didn't know their history." you confessed, feeling quite bad about the outcome. "i didn't want my article to end up being gossip or shit talk, i just wrote what i wanted to."
"freedom of the press, am i right?" jeongin laughed, "speaking of the devil." signaling heeseung heading towards your table.
heeseung stood at your table. "yang. l/n." before scooting next to jeongin's side of the booth. you couldn't help but move your eyes between the two. after what sunoo and the boys told you earlier, and jeongin's confirmation that basically people could tell, you sit there in silence.
heeseung clears his throat, "well i'm not seeing much interviewing going on, delegates."
you scoffed at him, "it's none of your business heeseung. we're all delegates, it's lunch break. you don't have to boss around all the time."
"our decelis guidebook strictly confers to not confide in the enemy. and here you are, with the enemy. you know if you spill precious information regarding us we'd be dead?" he scolded you.
a laugh escaped your throat, "the enemy? jeongin is far from the enemy to me. matter of fact, heeseung, you've been more of an enemy to me rather than a secgen."
jeongin whispered, "keep it down y/n, it's okay."
you stood up in anger, "no it's not okay! i've been trying my hardest to do everything i can, i've won consecutively since my first mun at decelis, i've done everything you ask for. i've done nothing but make the decelis name proud, but i just can't happen to make you proud. what do i have to do next? i do everything and all i do is fall at second best. if you hate me so much then kick me off the goddamn team! wouldn't want me tarnishing your precious track record by having a traitor on the team, would you? all this over a stupid article i wrote months ago." you walk away from the table, returning to your room.
heeseung was speechless, the rest of the room was in awe, normally delegates would be able to stay professional. even if there was a break up or something. even wonyoung and minjeong looked at heeseung in anger, meanwhile jake, jay, and sunghoon looked at him in disappointment. jeongin stood up and left the booth, avoiding any more anger out of heeseung. "if i were you, i'd apologize. that girl has done nothing but try to please you and make you proud. start there." jeongin added before leaving.
out of habit, heeseung hung his head low in embarrassment. this was worse than the time you wrote that article about him. as he stood up to confide in the boys for advice, he spots a small leather notepad in the corner of the booth. it was yours. he'd have to find you, face you and give it back. it wouldn't hurt to read a bit of what's inside, right?
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running back to your room, you couldn't dare return till next comses. the fact that an entire room full of delegates and chairs had heard you scream at heeseung's face. and returning back to the bed you woke up from this morning, limbs tangled with heeseung, didn't really help.
hiding your face in your bedsheets, tears flowing freely, you couldn't help but smell the familiar cologne he had left behind. the smell stung your nose, and made your eyes water more. the scent that once plagued you, now had lulled you to sleep.
a blurry facade appeared, the sound of heavy noise music remained muffled. your feet were cold on the hotel floor, destination? room 777. you were swaying side to side, but thankfully you were able to hold on to a pillar, which was moving with you.
"we shouldn't have drunk this much, right l/n? i'm not even sure i'm prepped for comses tomorrow morning." the pillar said.
"you have it easy, lee. you don't have to write 4 pieces worth of mandatory articles and observe other council's committee sessions." you replied, a clear slur in your voice.
it, who turned out to be heeseung, laughed, and it was like music to your ears. "i thought you journalists just copy-pasted shit off google or something, didn't get why you'd have to sit in the back of council rooms."
you scoffed at him, "well, as secretary-general, you should've known better. if only you noticed what i've been doing all this time to get your attention, maybe you would've understood."
"you think i haven't been paying attention? i've had my eyes on you ever since you wrote that silly article about me back at decelis mun. 'who's really chairing crisis?' you do know me and jay have been friends since primary, right?" he argued.
"that i know know, lee. the fact that you caused all the fuss over an article that was purely for mun, and had no ill intention is just stupid. i just wanted to be able to express myself." you confessed, feeling underestimated.
he sighed, pressing the up button on the lift, "it's not that i fussed over an article, it's that you wrote about me. i don't see many people brave enough to write about a secretary-general." before he could continue, the doors to the lift dinged and opened, allowing the two of you to walk in.
"i mean," he stuttered, clicking the number seven on the lift's buttons, "you amazed me. i've never met a person who could express themselves so much through their writing. no one paid attention to me enough to write such a critical piece about me."
you smiled at him, "so i'm special? i was the first to write about you, right?" he chuckled at your cheeky comment, "yes you're a first. i wouldn't mind if you kept writing about me."
"but why'd you hate me? i've done so much for decelis to make you proud, but you still have a way to butcher me. i just wanted to impress you." you'd sighed into his chest, the world beginning to spin.
luckily, heeseung had caught you before you fell, right on time as the lift reached the seventh floor. he basically carried you out, trying not to drop you.
"if i hated you so much, i wouldn't be helping you get back to our room, nor would i be making sure you get back safely." he assured you, holding you in his arms.
you groaned in protest, "but you do, don't you? i'm never enough for you, after everything i've done. all the things i did—"
you were shut up by his lips on yours. out of the blue, with no warning signs, he had kissed you. out of habit you kissed him back, lips molding against each other as if you had been waiting for years, as if you couldn't live without each other. all hatred you held against him dissipated. your arms crawling towards the back of his neck to pull him closer, his own pulling on your waist.
he pulled away to take a breath, but you couldn't breathe. he was your oxygen. you connected the two of you together, chasing his lips, his touch, his presence. it was the sweetness, the flavor of love and lust hanging. you’ve been craving his attention, hell, even his touch for months.
but your lungs craved oxygen, forcing you to pull away, hiding your face in his chest. as you were taking in the moment, he chuckled, "i wouldn't have done that if i hated you, would i?"
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waking up with a jolt, the memories of last night came rushing in. you thanked yourself that the two of you hadn't fucked, but the idea of kissing him and liking it gave yourself insight. you wondered if heeseung remembered too.
opening your phone and seeing the time, you rushed out of your room as you were late to your next editorial meeting. it being the last committee session of the day, all you had to do was submit your mandatory articles of the day, and you'd be done. running back to your council room, knocking slightly on the door, you rushed back to your seat.
"journalist, you're late. why is that?" shuhua asked, beomgyu beside her, taking notes.
you sat down and composed yourself, "i'm sorry chairs, i slept in during break. it won't happen again."
the chairs nodded at you, letting it pass. the room discussed about how press conferences was, reminding the journalists of the upcoming deadline, but your mind was in the gutter.
you touch your lips, and you feel the lingering taste on your tongue. you were shocked out of your trance with the knocks of the chairs' gavel hitting the sound block. with only an hour left to finish your mandatory article, you begin to type.
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social night was an mun tradition. after a full day of committee sessions, all councils, no matter what their council was, it gave a chance for all the delegates to mingle amongst each other.
free from the deadline of your first mandatory article, you had the whole night to party it out before tomorrow, where you had to finish your final mandatory article.
social nights usually had themes, and tonight, harvard model congress' was inspired by bridgerton, along with masquerade masks were in array. you had packed a a black dress, which belonged to your mother. she’d always tell you to save it for a special occasion, a moment you wouldn’t want to forget. and for tonight, as you miss your mom's touch, you wear your dress with pride.
walking to the venue, and right before you could even enter, you’re immediately greeted by wonyoung and minjeong. "oh my god sweets are you okay?" wonyoung asked, holding your face, clear worry in her eyes. "we heard and saw what happened at lunch, good for you to finally confront the bitch." minjeong commented, which earned her, once again, another slap on the arm by wonyoung.
you nodded at the two, holding their hands, "i'm fine, don't worry. i just needed to get it out of my system, that's all."
"to think of it, i haven't seen him since. normally when you pass by the crisis room, you'd hear his voice bouncing off the walls..." wonyoung confessed, "that's very unlike of him."
minjeong scoffs at her comment, "who cares? he's been downplaying y/n's achievements for the past couple months, i wouldn't be able to stay quiet if i were you."
you sighed at the two bickering in front of you, "guys, i just want tonight to be about us. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, i want to make the best out of it. so can we stop the heeseung talk and have some fun? please?"
the two nodded at your request, not pestering you any further. you all walk into the venue, being handed masquerade masks. the venue was decorated to the nines, and it felt like a ball straight out of bridgerton. the three of you were guided to your delegation table, which seated you, the girls, jake, and sunghoon. but heeseung? he was no where to be found.
"where's heeseung? it's not like him to miss out on social night." jake asked you.
you sat down on your assigned seat, and the seat on your right, which was supposed to occupy heeseung, was cold and empty. "why are you asking me? he hates me, remember?"
jake shrugged, "i don't know, i just reckoned that since the two of you are sharing a room, you'd know where he is."
minjeong scoffs, "who cares? y/n got ready at me and wony's room anyways, so no, we don't know where he is."
"jay said earlier today that he's been looking for him. wonder where he went. and if he found him..." sunghoon tells the table, sipping on his glass of water.
stuck in your trance, you were snapped out of it by a screeching of a chair, one, being jay, and the other was right next to you. heeseung. he was in his usual suit and tie, a couple buttons on the top were unbuttoned. you glanced at his tired eyes, hidden underneath the masquerade mask.
"dude? where've you been?" jake asked jay, slapping him on the shoulder.
jay sighed and drank a gulp of his water, "looking for this asshole over here." while pointing at heeseung, "took me a while to find him literally on the rooftop. i swear seoul uni has the most crazy hideouts. i'm not even sure i can even find my way back."
"how'd you find your way there anyways?" sunghoon asked heeseung.
he sighed, "don't know. just, found it." his demeanor slipping away as you begin to see the raw brokenness. you didn't hurt his ego that much, right?
as the clock struck seven, waiters all around the room began laying out the meals. you took a glimpse of the dinner courses in front of you, not really having an appetite for anything. but you still tried to eat, tried not to waste your food, tried to seem okay in front of him.
heeseung, on the other hand, was trying his best not to combust. sitting next to you was hard enough, but the fact you were wearing such a beautiful dress had him awestruck. he also lost his appetite. he couldn't help but stare at you.
after dinner, your friends stood up and ran over to the dance floor, and you were unfortunately dragged along. a remix of many famous hits were played, before you sang your hearts out to iris, by the goo goo dolls. you felt someone tap you on your shoulder, which to your surprise you see jeongin.
"could i have this dance?" he asked, hand out for you to grab, iris still playing in the background.
you nodded and grabbed his hand before you two danced foolishly to iris, heels discarded, his suit as well, just dancing your hearts out. but you had your limits, you were tired and excused yourself to grab some water. before you felt a nudge on your right, as heeseung leaned towards your ear. "can we talk later? don't say no just yet, just follow the green post its."
he walks away, as you look at him in confusion. feeling bad for what you said at lunch, you decide to meet him and see what he has to say.
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following the pins of green post-its he left behind, you find yourself at the hidden rooftop jay was talking about at dinner. you open the door to be shocked at the view. the stars twinkling in the night sky. and stood there near the edge, was heeseung.
you broke the silence, clearing your throat, "you wanted to speak to me?"
heeseung looked at you and your dress, his mind going places. "yeah. i did. i'm not expecting an apology. i deserve it."
"but why'd you hate me so much, heeseung?" you whined at him, sick of his jokes.
"the thing is l/n, i don't!" he shouts, walking towards you, "it's not that i hate you, it's that i hate the way you make me feel. i hate the way you're so good at writing, i hate the way you win everything to make me proud, i hate the way you know my weaknesses, i hate the way you never gave up. you're on my mind every fucking day."
you walk up towards him, pulling his suit to pull him down, and him not expecting anything, you slap him across his face.
heeseung immediately pulled back, "ow! what was that for?"
"that was for not telling me about how you felt. you didn't have to bottle it up, you know?" you scoffed.
"and you didn't have to either!" he protested back, pulling out a familiar journal. your journal.
you grabbed it from his hands, "how'd you find this? i didn't even realize it was missing..."
heeseung sighed, "you know for a smart writer like you, you're very forgetful." a smile beginning to emerge.
"what did you read, heeseung? tell me." you asked, afraid that your secrets would spill out.
heeseung walked towards you, "enough to know that you're too stubborn to even tell me the truth. if you'd been feeling this way for months then you should have told me."
you gasped at him, "i would have told you about it if you weren't such a dick all the time? and then you kissing me last night just added more fuel to the fire." not realizing what you said, heeseung cupped your face, which was full of confusion.
"you remember last night?"
you blinked. "everything."
he laughed, "then you'd know i wouldn't hate you as much if i was doing this, would i?"
the familiar taste of his lips returned as he kissed you. you held onto his hands as he caressed your face. the oxygen you once craved had been fulfilled. you strung your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. you could feel the burst of sparks just surrounding the two of you, a moment you both craved.
the wavering facade between the two finally faded, unleashing the raw desire the two of you had, rushing through your veins.
you pulled away, heeseung leaning his forehead onto yours, before he gave you his best smile. you blushed out of nervousness and proximity the two of you held, not used to this view.
"you still hate me now?" you joked, smiling at him. his eyes softened, before he laughed, and kissing you once more, not wanting to let go. and as the stars glimmered under the night sky, you forgot time ever existed. forget the committee sessions due tomorrow, it was the two of you against the world.
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surely, waking up on the final day of the conference would give you a sense of peace, right? wrong. you had spent so much time last night making out and talking with heeseung that you forgot your final mandatory article was due soon. waking up from the bed the two shared, limbs tangled once more, this time, you weren't ashamed.
you kissed heeseung's forehead to wake him up, and despite heeseung's wishes to stay in and make out some more, you declined and got ready.
"can't you just stay? a bit late to the first comses of the day won't hurt your awards." heeseung groaned, asking you to return.
"i was late at yesterday's comses post-lunch, so i think i'm going to be a good girl and come early to this one." you replied, fixing your tie.
heeseung basically stood up and tried to pull you back to bed, "come on, just be my good girl. i promise you will be awarded with all of my kisses in the world."
you shook your head, "missing out on a couple kisses won't be the death of me. come on, you need to prep for comses too."
heeseung moaned in complaint, "no, i'd break my streak for you, i don't care. i just want to stay in with you, away from everybody."
you were able to crawl your way out of his touch, "nope! i'm not letting you lose your streak just over me. come on, get ready. i'm going down for breakfast."
"can i at least have a goodbye kiss before you go?" he pouted, and the way his eyes resembled bambi, you gave in.
you tried to just give him a quick peck, but his touch was so fragile and welcoming, that if you didn't stand your ground, you'd probably be pinned down till the rest of the day. but you didn't want that, so you let go of his touch, assuring him that you'd spend more time with him after the conference.
now, here you were, back in your conference room with a giddy look on your face. you couldn't help but dream of last night. even sunoo, riki, jungwon, along with wonyoung, minjeong, and sunghoon, were even surprised to see you better all of a sudden.
"okay is this some weird process girls do the cope with sadness, cause if so how do we fix her?" sunoo asked, concerned.
wonyoung was staring at you like you were beaming, "it looks like pregnancy glow."
riki basically spit out his coffee, "wait so they actually fucked?"
minjeong snapped at riki, "who fucked?"
"we had speculation that, y/n and heeseung fucked the first night, hence why she was out of it the next day..." jungwon explained to the rest.
sunghoon, the only person out of the group who happened to know heeseung the best, commented that; "no there's no way he fucked her. if they fucked, they wouldn't have been here."
"could you stop speculating that me and heeseung fucked?" you snapped at the group. not out of anger, but annoyed that you couldn't concentrate.
"sorry, but did you?" riki enquired, earning him a riki! from the group around him. "what? i just wanna know."
you sighed, standing up and packing a couple things, "who cares if we fucked or not? just leave us alone." as you head out of the council room, heading to the crisis room for some final details.
contrary to how you first felt when you walked into the room, your heart felt full of hope. that this time, heeseung wouldn't be staring at you with hatred, instead of love. you hoped you wouldn't distract him.
as you walked into the council room, you nodded at chair yeonjun, before taking a seat at the prepared seats for the journalists. you sit down, open your laptop as you're typing your final mandatory article. you tried to glimpse towards heeseung, but you were returned with the same feeling as yesterday. the sharp gaze was back. maybe it's because he's in is element? mun is important to him... you thought, and busied yourself to writing your article. since it was your final committee session, you just had to submit your article and return for the closing editorial meeting. quickly clicking submit, and the chairs deeming the final committee session over, you wanted to sneak a quick kiss before returning for your meeting.
you stood up from your seat and walked towards heeseung. he stood up and saw you, walking your way. instead of being greeted by a hug or a kiss, he brushed past you to talk to his fellow delegates. you felt a pang in your chest, the way heeseung ignored you like that. you thought everything was okay. the kisses you shared, the conversations you had. you looked back at heeseung only to see him busy talking with the other delegates, barely sparing you a glance. you left the room quickly, not looking back.
unbeknownst to you, heeseung saw you leaving, his heart barely surviving after treating you like that. you deserved better than him. he couldn't have it all.
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the final editorial meeting of press councils should be a joy to you. no more deadlines, no more press conferences. but you were stuck in your head. repeating the interaction over and over in your head, you didn't understand a single thing.
after the comments and input from both the chairs and the journalists, chair shuhua decided to pull out the gossip box. you'd been informed prior about the gossip box filling at social night, but since you ran off with heeseung to make out the night away, you didn't have time to fill it in.
as shuhua and beomgyu begin to read the entries, earning laughter all around the room, a certain entry snaps you out of your trance.
"oh this is a good one! new york times from press and colombia from crisis actually fit really good together! hope the enemies finally turn into lovers! wait is this about y/n and heeseung?" chair shuhua asks, causing the whole room to look at you.
you looked at everyone strangely, "what? there's nothing."
chair beomgyu shook his head, "no no no, i don't think there's nothing. come on spill the tea, something must've happened the past three days."
everybody was waiting on your response. waiting for you to tell everyone what happened. you just wanted them to shut up. "okay well. we kissed."
the group of six who were pestering you earlier, gasped loudly. earning you a rumble of no shit's, wait actually's, and a loud jinjja?!
you couldn't help but sink back into your seat, still upset about the way he treated you earlier. "yeah, but he's treating me like shit again today, so. that's that."
the entire room aww'ed in disappointment, before the chairs read out a couple more entries, and adjourns the final editorial. you stand up to clean your table, taking out a pen to begin signing each others' placards. signing everybody else's, photo sessions were in array, and after you were finally allowed to have some free time before awarding ceremony.
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awarding ceremony was one of those moments where you have hope, but at the same time you don't. you start rethinking choices you made during the conference, wondering if you made the right option. you headed your way to where the press council was sat at, where you met a couple other delegates, even bumping into jeongin, wishing each other a good luck!
you sit down between wonyoung and minjeong, which earned you an endearing hug from the two, assuring your problems with heeseung didn't matter. stuck in your head, you didn't notice the boys' absence in the room. and awarding had begun. the secretary-general of harvard model congress came up and made their speech, thanking all the delegates for participating and giving their best. chairs from other councils begin to come up to give their awards.
meanwhile, outside of the room, was heeseung cornered by jay, jake, and sunghoon.
heeseung, not caught up with the situation, looked at the three with confusion. "what did i do?"
jay scoffed, "what did you do? you managed to fuck it up again? what did i tell you?!" shaking the life out of him.
heeseung shook his head in confusion, not knowing what to do, when sunghoon came up to him, "look man, your little feud with y/n has to stop. i don't get you anymore. i thought you'd be good at this after helping me and wonyoung get together..."
"nah dude you're in denial. what do you mean you two basically confessed to not hating each other and then made out a bunch of times, only for you to leave her and ignore her like so? that's crazy." jake protested. that was the truth.
"i don't know what to tell you, but me and jake have got to get back for unsc awarding, but please think about it? i know you feel scared of this whole love thing, but i assure you, it's okay to feel this way." jay says, leaving with jake, which left sunghoon with heeseung alone.
heeseung didn't know what to do. for the first time in his life, everything was out of his control. he craved you and needed you, but he felt like he didn't deserve you. it was as if a crisis was happening in his own mind.
as he hears the cheers of the room with every award that is given out, his heart races. he hears the announcement where jay and jake both won best delegates, which they had been double delegating in.
sunghoon kept trying to comfort heeseung, not knowing what to say to him. "look, i may not understand the way your mind works, but i assure you that you deserve her. you've put yourself through it all for decelis, and the track record that we have wouldn't have been what it is now if it wasn't for you. i don't know what plan you're cooking up, but whatever it is, win her back." heeseung looks at sunghoon with sheer nervousness in his eyes. "press and crisis are left, so whatever you want to do? do it now. before its too late."
leaving heeseung alone outside the room, sunghoon walks back in, returning to where the press journalists sat. he saw you picking on your nails out of habit, nervous for the next awards. as your chairs walk up to the podium, sunghoon just hopes heeseung would do something.
as names begin getting called out, sunoo winning best pre-conference video, then riki and jungwon winning verbal commendations, wonyoung and minjeong winning honorable mentions, you held on tight to the tiny string of hope left. it was probably between you and sunghoon left. as you look around the room, heeseung is still nowhere to be found. you had hoped that maybe with this win, you'd make him proud once and for all.
"the final two journalists were a tight match. these two shown impeccable talent in their articles and presence the past three days." shuhua announces. "it is with our great pleasure that the most outstanding journalist goes to, park sunghoon!"
wonyoung, who was on the stage prior, basically screams in joy. you high five sunghoon before he winks at you, knowing you'd win best journalist. but a part of you still thinks you won't.
beomgyu gives sunghoon his award, before adjusting his mic. "this final journalist has pure talent in her writing, and have awestruck the both of us with her work. without further ado, we would like to present that the best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"
relief. that's all what washes towards you. yes you've heard your name and the words best journalist go along too often, but every time it happens, it always feels euphoric. as you walk up the stage to receive your award, earning smiles from the other awardees, you couldn't help but look to the crowd.
you see jay and jake basically jumping up and down in joy, but heeseung was still nowhere to be found. a pang of disappointment burns in your chest as you walk down the podium with your certificate in hand. an array of congratulations! are heard, as you sit back down for the final awarding. crisis.
zoning out, after feeling the euphoria of your win, your mind drifts off to heeseung. how would he feel? was he proud?
as chair yeonjun announces the awardees, you are cut out of your trance with every round of applause. you see jeongin win most outstanding, and you cheer for him.
as yeonjun clears his throat for the final award, he begins his speech. "this final award goes to a delegate who really deserves it all. although this mun may have not been his best run, he deserves so much more than the title: prodigy. i'd like to present this best delegate award to none other than... you know what? lee heeseung get up here, get your award, and get your girl!"
with pure shock, you watch as heeseung bursts through the doors, run up to the podium, quickly shake his chairs' hands, grabs his certificate, and runs down. and he's running to you.
he drops his certificate on the floor, before engulfing you in the biggest hug he's ever given in his life. spinning you around, you squeal in excitement. he whispers in your ear an array of i'm so proud of you's, before putting you down, and kissing you in front of everyone.
you cling onto him, parting your lips allowing him to kiss you deeper and deeper, and the feeling of sparks flying around you made it feel like it would last forever. your ears muffle all the cheers surrounding you, only focusing on heeseung, and heeseung only.
he puts you down and rests his forehead on yours, exactly like how he did on the rooftop the night before. "how'd you pull this off?" you ask him, still on cloud nine.
"eh, had some help from chair yeonjun. didn't expect the bestdel though." heeseung laughs, holding you by the waist, tighter, and tighter.
you held his face closer, wanting to feel his touch, "why'd you do that? why'd you run?"
"y/n. i love you. i never knew how to say it all this time, because it's a feeling unlike any other. to the point it made me feel as if my life was in crisis. but that's when i realized i never had it all. not until i found you."
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taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay @capri-cuntz @beomluvrr @shawnyle @tya0 @heexoolio @sunghoonsgff @spiderhanzzz (crossed out = i can't tag you)
back to my masterlist?
disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction.
© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.
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dmitriene · 6 months
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john price didn't intend to be someone's sugar daddy, not knowing that well what it means, and not even planning to join a relationship — yet, that's till he meet you on a dating app his lads almost begged him to install.
or they even installed it themselves, taking his phone while they were off in some country pub, and it wouldn't hurt to open it at least once, price thought.
indeed, it wouldn't, because that's how he found you — the sweetest, soft thing his eyes ever fell upon and seen, reminiscent so much of all the images and scenarios he often dreamed about, but always pushed further away.
john thought you looked like a proper sunshine itself, well mannered darling with toothy smiles and small, yet so sweet description of yourself, and this is the first situation in his life in which he did not think twice, before deciding to write to you straight away.
he's an old man, price is a captain inside and out, with warm heart and sincere smiles, yet bloody hands and fucked up head — he's seen everything, experienced everything, which made him the jonathan price he is right now, and still, it didn't pushed you away a tad bit.
all the time you were such a sweetheart, from the text's in the app and down the road to the first meeting, and if john didn't experience falling in love before — that was it.
it started by itself, after the first meeting there was another, with each of them you became closer and closer not only mentally, but also physically, and against the background of falling in love with you, there's responsibility that began to shallow.
john wanted to pamper you — pay for your lunches together at every meeting, then for your grocery's delivery, then it moved to fixing some little financial issues you had or even buying you something you couldn't afford right now, all of this was just for you, and you hadn't to do anything to receive it.
he had a good amount of money, the one he didn't exactly know where to spend, but there's you — you help john relax on hard days, take care of his health, comfort him when things don't go as they should, and wait for every new message from him while he's away on another mission.
shouldn't he repay to you for being his little pocket sunshine?
his, he always thinks and says, yet you don't exactly belong to him, you never talked about what exactly are you two — friends, lovers, or something else, because price never voiced his feelings and never crossed any possible boundaries, until you did it first.
a little kiss on the stubbled cheek to thank him for buying you some silly things you wanted so much recently, a warm hug against his bulky body, an innocent act of holding hands.
before it turns into messy tongue kisses, squeezing grasps of calloused palms, itchy mustache rubbing against soft flesh of your neck, sucking blooming marks to form a patch down your shoulders and to your cleavage, kissing, biting, moving away unnecessary clothing that gets into john's way.
you became his entirely, body and soul, with buzzing warmth inside your stomach and pleasurable soreness between your doughy thighs, with red marks both from price's fingers and beard, while waking up huddled under his heavy arm and under cool, silky sheets of his spacious bed.
john price fell in love with you completely and irrevocably, just as you in him — welcoming him home each time with soft touches and featherlight kisses, freshly cooked meal and tidy environment, light giggles and sincere words of love and adoration.
a dream come true, a place for him to return to, with light walls that hold only precious memories, with your gasping mewls that reverberate here at night.
from his grounding touches, soft roll of his broad hips when he nestles against your back at nights and curl his hands over the curve of your waist, hoisting your leg to probe against your sopping warmth, burrowing inside your gummy walls softly as john nuzzles his face against your shoulder blades.
price adores you, without planning it all in the first place, but now he is sure that he would not have refused to meet you in any of the circumstances.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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cindyss · 12 days
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Theodore nott × reader (book reader)
They go to the mall together Theodore trying to find ways to spend on his girl because she keeps rejecting everything (growing up her parents didn't have money so she finds buying stuff for no particular reason is unnecessary).
But she's on her phone looking at some books she really wants, she's been saving for them but still doesn't have enough to buy all 5. Theodore looks at her phone wondering what she's so interested in, when he notices that you want the books, he leads you to the book store and buys those books and 4 more. When at the till, you see how expensive it is and try to tell him to not pay he quickly dismissed you
— you know ill do anything to see that pretty smile of yours -theodore nott
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- pairing: theodore nott x reader (book)
- word count: 1.08k
- note: absolute cutest idea ever 🥹
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you and theodore had hit the three month mark of dating, and to celebrate your anniversary, you decided to go out together to the mall and after it you would go grab lunch together.
you put on a cute yet casual outfit and got picked up by theo. as soon you got in his car he greeted you with a kiss, “hii bella, you look so beautiful”.
you face turned red, your boyfriend not once failing at making you blush, not missing a chance to compliment you. “thank you baby”.
he started the car and drove the both of you to the mall. on the way there, you talked about a few things, exchanging laughs and smiles. suddenly, his phone started ringing, “sorry i have to take this, enzo is staying over at mine and he was trying to cook pasta before i left, so i just wanna make sure he hasn’t burnt my house down already.” you chuckled “of course take your time.”
you opened your phone while he spoke on the phone, scrolling through instagram, you came across a recent reel of your favorite author, talking about the release of her new book. from next to you, theodore took a glance at your phone, wondering what you’re so interested in when he saw a last holding a book.
“berkshire, the cheese is in a white container in the freezer, how many times do i have to tell you that? i have to go now, take care and don’t burn my kitchen”.
With that, he ended the phone call, he turned to look at you before then turning his head to keep his eyes on the road, “isn’t this the book you’ve been telling me you want to read?” he questioned.
“yes it is, she released it a few days ago. ive been saving up for it and a few others im going to buy soon”. to that, the boy nodded before turning the car to the parking lot of the mall.
after a few hours of walking around the mall, you only a bought a small amount of clothes as theo wouldn’t let you pay, your stomach grew more hungry.
“i think its tike to leave, im starving and our reservation is in around 25 minutes” you told him.
“okay, just, one more place, come” he said holding your hand, leading you to a shop. as you got close, you found yourself standing in front of a book store
“oh theo, i’ll come back later, i didn’t save up money for all of them yet” “who said anything about you paying?” he said leading you in.
“oh no, i cant baby, they’re expensive.” “please cara mia let me do these for you”. he smiled at you. “now lets go find these books of yours.” he added as you walked through the shelves.
after finding the correct isle for the genre of your book, you scan the shelves looking for the newly released book. “there it is!” theo exclaims grabbing it. “thank you theo now can we leave”.
he came closer to you taking your hands in his “cara there are 4 more you wanted didn’t you?”
“how did you know?”
“it wasn’t hard to find your good reads tbr list” he said earning a smile from you.
theodore was the most careful and thoughtful boyfriend ever, he could tell when you were uncomfortable just by your behavior, sad just by meeting your eyes.
“thank you but i promise ill have enough money saved for these by the end of the month” “no bella its our anniversary today and so i will buy these for you as a gift”
growing up poor wasn’t exactly a story from a kids book, you didn’t have each and every shoe you’ve ever dreamed off, you didn’t have your own room, bathroom, not even privacy, all had to be shared with your family members.
Therefore, someone spending money on you made you feel so guilty, and especially something like this, your boyfriend wasting money on something for you was unnecessary and unfair as you couldn’t give back something in return.
As you tried to protest, theo just pulled you, leading you everywhere. He managed to find 2 of the books you wanted , however, 1 he couldn’t find, and as you refused to cooperate, he walked up to a worker there, “i’m sorry where can i find the book shadow and bone?” “come with me” the woman led you to one of the isles
“we currently aren’t selling them separately so you’ll have to buy the whole 6 books” “theo no! these are way more than i need right now.”
he turned his face to look at you then turned back to look at the women, “yes ill take these thank you”.
with that, he took the box from her, and went to checkout. as the lady was checking the books, theodore never once bothered to look at you as he knew you were probably fuming by now.
“it’ll be $123”. your boyfriend then pulled out his credit card as you gasped “theo no seriously,” you stated in a serious, angry tone. “this is for my own entertainment and i told you I’m saving money for it, this isn’t any of your business to buy it for me.”
the boy next to you then let out a sarcastic exaggerated sigh “your business is mine okay? you know ill do anything to see that pretty smile of yours principessa”.
your heart absolutely melted at his words, you wanted to cry yet scream at him for not listening to you.
the lady then handed back his credit card and the bag containing your books. “how long have you been married for?” the woman asked, smiling, she looked quite old, early 60s perhaps.
“not yet, no” theodore said “but as soon as we graduate I’m putting a ring on it” he smiled as the lady chuckled. he carried the bag in one hand and held your hand in the other as you walked out,
“thank you so much for all of this seriously, but i am mad at you so dont ever think about doing that again.” “oh i will” he teased,
“lets go eat some food right now before i resort to eating my better option.” he spoke “which is?” you asked
“you.”
cutest request ever, i need a boy like him who will buy all the books on my tbr list fr 🙂‍↕️ .
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pucker up buttercup
Yandere florist x reader
Tw: mentions of physical abuse in sexual settings, implied drugging and somnophilia, stalking, implied possessive behavior and controlling nature, mildly nsfw. Not proofread 🌺
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🌷Benny was the quiet kid of your school. You didn't know much about him, except he was a good student and apart of the gardening club. That was all, but Benny? Oh he knew you very well..
🌷you were stunning. You had such amazing hair that he wanted to play with every night before going to sleep, those stunning beautiful eyes that always ghosted over his form in the cafeteria, and your voice that always managed to make him rock hard down there
🌷 recently your family had gotten a wide assortment of flowers for an event. Thinking they were pretty, you asked for the florists name or any social they might have. They handed you a card with the info, and with that you looked up the account on Instagram.
🌷 scrolling through their posts you found a familiar face you'd see every day in the school halls. What was his name again? Benjamin? Beanie? No.. oh yeah! Benny! You didnt know he had such a good eye for aesthetics, especially flower arrangements. But that has to be expected since he spends all his time gardening
🌷the next time you saw him, you walked right up to his table on campus grounds. A bit far from the other outside lunch areas. He froze when he saw a familiar pair of shoes, looking up at you slowly with those big blue eyes
"you're a florist right?"
"y-yes..?"
"how much for a dozen roses and half a dozen tulips?"
🌷you became a regular after that. He'd wait anxiously every day for you in the plant nursery after school. He always gave you such cheap prices, claiming you were his friend and he only did favors for them. You thought he was sweet, so when you heard rumors about him being caught sneaking around the girls locker rooms and stalking a classmate? You shrugged it off,most likely empty gossip
🌷if only you paid attention to the red flags sooner.. you would have realized Benny's real nature. When he asked you out prom night, you agreed, he was sweet and you weren't seeing anyone at the moment. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful relationship?
Pros with Benny:
🌹atleast he's a very generous lover. Spoiling you with what he could afford, since he came from humble beginnings he's always wise with the money you both have
🌹 he's completely devoted to you! Never looking at anyone else with love or lust, always worshipping you both in bed and outside it
🌹you learn new things. Like natural remedies, plants and their names, their usefulness to make nearly everything. Even drugs (He's vegan.)
🌹he wants to settle down and raise a family with you as soon as you graduate college! He gets tipsy and love drunk thinking about it too much. He'd make an excellent father. Kind of.
The cons:
🥀 randomly, he'll get very aggressive in bed. Biting you till your skin bleeds, slapping your chest and ass, degrading you with the most vilest words. Not to mention he seems to really like choking you till you almost pass out
🥀he doesn't know how to take no for an answer, he'll go scarily quiet and his eyes will turn dull. A complete contrast to how he usually is. Surely a little intimidation will make you change your mind no?
🥀 he's possessive with your time and love. If he ever notices you staring at anyone a little too long, who isn't friends or family he knows of, you bet there'll be missing person posters by the end of the week
🥀he forbids you from going into the basement. Saying it's his private nursery and you should respect his privacy, even if he doesn't respect yours
🥀 randomly you'll feel sleepy after Eating anything he makes you, growing drowsy and the last thing you can remember is feeling clammy hands hastily unbutton your pants and shirt
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lulujeno · 21 days
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them as your older brother, finding out you have a crush on one of their members
— nct dream ᡣ𐭩
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cw : some of them question ur taste in men but thats overall it, just some playful banter :D
a/n : really nervous for my exam tmr so i wrote this to calm me down ^^ gender neutral as always but it's a little shorter than my other one, hope you guys enjoyyyt <3
mark:
your crush on renjun wasn't that obvious at first
well that was until your youtube search history betrayed you
mark was borrowing your laptop one day and was so confused when the most recent searches was just renjun
"renjun fancam" "renjun cute moments" "renjun being mad at dreamies"
didn't put two and two together just yet but it was at the back of his mind for sure
would call you to visit the dreamies more often to see if his assumption was right okay scooby doo
you'd bring snacks and drinks most of the time, somehow always getting renjun's favourite stuff
texted you the moment he was sure that you do have a crush on his bandmate
you admitted it and since then he's been the #1 y/njun shipper
gives you updates about renjun
if it isn't obvious enough, he does approve of junnie (maybe a little too much)
renjun:
came to him one day for help since you were thinking of confessing to haechan
looked directly into your eyes and tells you you can do better than haechan
"haechan? of all people??"
proceeded to tell you that he already knows about your little crush
would tell you things that haechan likes or dislikes, even though he looks like he disapproves
secretly happy that its someone he knows really well and not some random douche
you'd notice jun's little ways of helping you get with your crush
you give him a small smile and he'd mouth to thank him later
would still nag to you because he really can't see what you see in his bandmate
"whatever makes you happy"
don't worry, he approved of haechan after seeing the way he treats you
jeno:
tried to act surprise when you said you found mark interesting
you hit him jokingly because of how bad his acting was
teases you about your crush
when you visit the dreamies he does that thing with his eyebrows and makes it really obvious that you like his bandmate
but for real though, he'd be really supportive and actually try to help you out
would still give you the 'don't get your hopes up' talk since he doesn't want you to be heartbroken
happy that you came to him for help with your little crush (you? not so happy because he's so obvious)
"mark did you see y/n's new hair?" "mark doesn't y/n smell good today?" "mark you're not gonna give y/n a hug too?"
you want to smack jeno every time he does it thank god mark lee is oblivious as hell
haechan:
thought that you were joking when you said like jaemin
realised that you were serious and suddenly theres plan a all the way till z to get you and jaemin together
one of then was to lock you both in a closet (in hopes that it ends with you guys kissing ONLY)
like jeno, tells you to not get your hopes up too high since the last thing he wants is to see his sibling cry over a MAN.
still questions why you like jaemin though, he thinks that that guy is weird
tried to tell you things to give you the ick about jaemin but it doesn't work
at one point he got too tired waiting for you to confess so he told jaemin himself
don't worry, he told you when he was going to spill the beans (yeah like 5 seconds before he said it)
jaemin:
jisung?? of all people??? that boy can't even take care of himself, how would he take care of you?
gives you a whole ted talk on why you should go for a real man like mark or jeno instead
ends up seeing what you see in jisung though
tall? deep voice? big hands? can dance? that ticks off everything in your list!
the talk ends with him being supportive and brainstorming ideas on how to make you guys a real couple
would straight up tell jisung that you like him
probably gave jisung a whole protective brother talk that scared the poor guy
tells you that it's the only way because things need to be clearly said to jisung or else he'd be too shy to initiate anything
asks for cat food in return if everything works out because he has children to feed!
chenle:
be fr, zhong chenle knows everything
so when you told him that you like jeno he did not bat an eye
tbh he was just waiting for you to admit it before going through with his plan
the plan? you accidentally tripping in front of jeno, landing on top of him, and kissing him
you just stand there thinking if your brother was actually stupid enough to think that it'll work
doesn't play when it comes to y/nno
but if jeno does end up liking you back suddenly chenle's favourite place is the gym
also doesn't play when it comes to protecting his sibling
warns jeno that if he breaks your heart then he will break other things!
jisung:
was appalled when he found out that you like chenle
chenle? zhong chenle?? his best friend of 8 years zhong chenle ???
give him a second to take it all in
finally connected the dots on why you keep asking for updates about chenle
would help you out in a subtle way
ways like making chenle sit beside you or asking chenle to call you instead of doing it himself
backfires soon after since he told chenle that you watch basketball
forgot to add in wives, you watch basketball wives not basketball itself
can't keep a secret for too long, especially one about chenle so give it 2 weeks tops before your crush finds out
fair to say it ended with both of them spamming you (one to apologise and the other? other reasons)
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simpee9000 · 1 month
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Not Just Friends - 9 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.
It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.
Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.
He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.
Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.
Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.
Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.
It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.
You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.
You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.
His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.
It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.
And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.
It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.
Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.
Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.
Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.
A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.
Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.
Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.
"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.
Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.
"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.
"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.
"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"
You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.
"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"
"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.
"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.
"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.
Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.
It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.
You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.
"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.
"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."
He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."
"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.
"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."
"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."
"Why?"
You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."
"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.
"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."
"That's not all that matter-"
"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.
"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.
"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.
Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."
You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.
"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"
"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"
"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.
"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.
"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.
"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."
"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.
"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.
You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."
Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.
A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.
You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.
Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.
It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.
The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.
You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.
Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.
For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.
You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"
When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."
She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.
The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.
"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.
"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.
"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.
Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."
"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.
"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.
"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.
"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.
"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.
Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."
"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.
"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."
"How the fuck would you know?"
"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."
"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."
Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.
"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.
"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.
You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.
"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.
"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."
"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.
It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.
"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.
You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.
He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.
"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"
A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.
You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.
---
Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.
She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"
You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.
"What the hell happened between you guys?"
"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.
"That much is obvious."
"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."
Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"
"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.
"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.
"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."
"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"
"I don't know," you mumbled.
"What type of argument could have caused that?"
You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."
"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.
"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.
"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.
All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."
"How come you don't talk to him?"
"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."
"So that's why-"
"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.
"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.
"Of course, he just isn't my life."
"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.
"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."
"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"
"I could have been first-"
"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."
"Mei-"
"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."
"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.
"It was majority him," she pointed out.
You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"
"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"
"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.
"Your not even trying-"
"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."
"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.
"Leaving," you said firmly.
"You don't have a car-"
"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.
You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.
The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up
"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.
"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.
"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"
"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."
"Why?"
"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."
"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.
You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.
"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."
Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.
"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."
"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."
You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"
"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.
"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."
"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.
"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."
"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"
"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.
"What?!"
"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.
"Do you know how dangerous that is?"
"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.
You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.
While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.
With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.
You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.
The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.
"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.
"I was sleeping," he answered.
"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.
"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"
You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.
"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.
"No shit," you answered plainly.
"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.
"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.
"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.
You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.
"You're sleeping down here?"
"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.
"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.
"What?"
"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."
"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.
"What happened to us?"
You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.
"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."
"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.
"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."
"You changed yours."
"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.
"For two months?"
"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."
"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"
"You could have done the same."
"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."
He choked, "You're done?"
"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."
Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.
"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.
"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."
"Good."
He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."
You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.
"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."
"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."
He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."
"Doesn't excuse it."
"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.
You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.
"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.
"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.
Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.
You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.
"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.
You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"
"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.
You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.
"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.
He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."
"What did?"
"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.
"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.
"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."
-Next Part-
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