#feeling fine thinking about the next couple semesters as well

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[heechwe]

between you and me | 𝐲𝐣𝐢

୨୧ pairing: yang (I.N) jeongin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.2k ୨୧ genre: light comedy, smut ୨୧ tags: college au, TA!reader, collegestudent!jeongin, a bit perverted jeongin, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, body worship, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum stuffing ୨୧ synopsis: You're his TA; Jeongin's not supposed to be thinking about you, the picture-perfect girl. Yet, he can't control himself or his physical reactions when he's around you. He needs to let his feelings out once and for all, before he spends another class sexually frustrated.

⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to my lovely friends for beta-ing this fic once again (@xomakara, @lovetaroandtaemin, @tbzhub, @mini-mews, and @gyubakeries).

Jeongin thinks now that you’re doing it on purpose.

Whenever you catch his eye amid Professor Bang’s lectures and give him a secret smile or conspiratory wink, he senses what you’re doing. The first couple of times at the start of the semester, he thought he was delusional. 

You only spoke a handful of times about his attendance and missed marks on the first assignment. There was no way that you, his ethnolinguistics teacher’s TA, has an interest in him. He’s just a little sophomore, still indecisive about what dinner to eat in the dining hall.

Jeongin reckons you have it all figured out by now. You’re too composed, too structured, too mature. Too perfect for someone like him.

Now, he thinks it’s all a cat-and-mouse game to you, and you’re simply waiting for him to take the bait.

Right now, you have your chin in your hand, flitting between typing notes and comments on Professor Bang’s lecture on your computer and staring at Jeongin. He’s spent the past hour pretending not to notice your eyes burning into him. Now, he no longer cares.

After a handful of minutes sharing glances, you tug at your bottom lip between your teeth. Instantly, Jeongin feels the blood flow out of his face and into the center of his legs. Thank God there’s a large desk sparing everyone, including you, a peek at the growing tightness of his sweatpants.

He wonders what your body would do in his hands. How it would feel to palm your chest with his fingers, drag each digit along your skin until they discover the secret parts of you that love pleasure. What it would feel like to capture that bottom lip with his own teeth.

The minutes drag on, achingly slow yet incredibly fast, until Professor Bang signals the end of class. Jeongin can’t stand up yet, still sporting a tent in his pants he can’t quell with a few quick absurd and horribly unsexy thoughts.

Gym socks. Family dinners. Hyunjin’s morning breath. Nothing works. 

As other students and Professor Bang himself make their way to the exit, Hyunjin stays stock still. You gather your stuff, but you notice out of the corner of your eye  Jeongin remaining in his seat. You smile at him before asking, “Yinnie, you alright?”

Don’t fucking call me that, he thinks with a tightening gut. It takes any of the power from his thoughts away, your voice and your words keeping a firm grip on his body’s current state.

“Fine!” Jeongin responds, voice a little too high and clipped.

You chuckle and step closer when you have all of your materials in your bookbag, sauntering over like you aren’t the cause of his current demise. “You didn’t take a lot of notes today. Something on your mind?”

What do you think?

He chuckles breathlessly and taps his pencil against his still open notebook. “Nervous about the final next month, I think.” He tries to focus on your face and not how close you are to him, the desk separating the two of you by a half a dozen feet. “Sometimes I get easily distracted.”

You click your teeth, smiling the entire time. “Well, if you ever need help to get back on track”—you lean your head a fraction closer to his over the desk, making all the nerves in his body spike—”just let me know.”

You re-adjust the strap of your bag and walk out of the classroom. Jeongin’s mind remains a jumbled mess as his dick stays incredibly hard, the implicitness of your words and actions leaving the poor guy without a clue how to relieve his recent problem.

“Did she actually see your boner?” Hyunjin asks before taking another swig of his beer.

“I don’t know!” Jeongin groans face-first into his pillow. “I felt so confident before I actually opened my mouth, and then it all went south.”

Jeongin ran back to his dorm after the debacle this morning to not only jerk off but bitch about his problems to Hyunjin, his roommate, the second the older one arrived home. In an hour, Jeongin's European Art History class begins, but he's too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to concentrate.

“While your dick started pointing north, huh?” Hyunjin winks and chuckles.

“Hyune, it’s not funny,” Jeongin says with muffled sadness.

His best friend sets his beer down and sighs. “It’s not wrong to like her, given she likes you back. Just try to control yourself and ask her out next time.”

“How do I do that when even the smallest sound from her mouth makes me hard?” He rises from his bed to stare at his friend, utterly lost.

“Maybe you don’t need to talk,” Hyunjin suggests, his eyes glinting with suggestive flare. “Grab her after class when the opportunity strikes.”

Jeongin ponders the thought. If all of his assumptions were incorrect, it would only be a short time before the class ends and he’ll never have to see you again and his desires can die right where they began. And if not, who knows where it will go?

Jeongin pops the bubblegum against his lips before walking into the classroom. To his surprise, the only one in the room is you and another student. Professor Bang would typically be at the podium, rifling through papers, but you stand in his place.

It wasn’t abnormal for you to teach here and there if Bang was absent. But seeing you in a floral midi skirt and low-cut top, he thinks he may sport another erection throughout the entire three hours of class.

“Hey,” you say when you look up from your laptop, instantly smiling. “You’re early today.”

He smiles and places his items in the front row. Choosing to sit directly in front of you today, he has to calm the increasing tempo of his heartbeat. He has to pace himself and relax. It’s only a smile, a world-upending one, but one that has no obligations or innuendos attached. “Professor Bang out sick?”

You nod with a solemn smile. Earlier that day, Professor Bang notified everyone that his daughter needed a babysitter and that you would be in charge; however, Jeongin wants to hear the words from your perfect lips. Any excuse to converse with you is a win in his mind. “You’ll be stuck with me today.” 

Leaning down to rifle with the papers on your desk, you give the perfect view of your cleavage for Jeongin to witness. And there goes the rest of his composure.

His body clams up as he feels heat pooling again in the worst place. Your chest is so supple, he thinks for a fraction of a second what it be like to cover the top of your breasts in hickeys that only he could see in private, knowing how he made them and how you would wear them with secret pride. 

But he can’t think about that now, not when he’s trying to hold some semblance of maturity.

He jams his notebook over his bottom half and walks over to your spot at the podium and adjacent desk. You feel his presence, but you don’t look up at him. You only move your head a fragment of an inch to let him know you’re listening. He still has an unobstructed view of your chest, one that’s arguably better now that he’s right in front of you. The sight shouldn’t make him stutter so terribly, but it does. “I-I actually meant to talk to you about s-something, Miss—”

Before you can respond, your plastic coffee cup flips up on its top to douse your papers and shirt with coffee. The milky brown liquid gets everywhere, dampening your skin and the fabric of your shirt. If Jeongin didn’t know any better, he swears he can see your nipples poking through the now dampened cloth of your shirt and nude bralette.

He immediately throws his notebook on the desk and takes off his jacket. Handing it to you to cover up, he realizes too slowly he’s given you an eagle eye shot of the tent in his pants. You blush before he takes his notebook back, but he hopes it's because the sticky coffee has soaked you and can't be cleaned until after class. He has to believe that, anyway.

Jeongin clamps down hard on the gum between his teeth, so hard it may become part of the crown of one of his molars at this point. You, still damp and looking up at him with doe eyes as you wait for his request, will be the death of him.

“Can I just talk to you after we’re done?” he asks, his pants brutally tight against his crotch. Students trickle in with only ten more minutes left before class starts, his initial plan on hold until everyone leaves.

You nod with another smile, motioning him back to his seat so you can dry the wet papers in the open air. Even as students look on and some offer to help you out, you can’t keep your focus off of Jeongin.

And this time, he hopes you see how your current state affects him. 

“Sorry, guys. Had a little spill before you got here,” you laugh boldly. “Now, onto endangered languages.”

When everyone departs to move onto their next classes, the front of the room still smells like the caramel and vanilla coffee from the accident before class. The aroma reminds Jeongin that his problem has not gone away, not for a single second, and if he doesn’t relieve it somehow, he will implode.

He stands up from his desk to make his move, watching as you move away from the podium to be directly in front of him. He has no reason to conceal himself from you now, but to remain professional, he hides with the help of his notebook once again.

“So,” Jeongin starts, “I want to just clear the air between us, so if you don’t feel the same we never have to—”

“Jeongin, what are you talking about?” He thought he loved the nickname you gave him before, but his given name on your lips almost makes him whimper out loud. 

You look at him wide-eyed, but he sees the ghost of a smirk on your lips. The confusion you’re feigning doesn’t meet your mouth, giving you away. “You know what I’m talking about,” he responds.

“I don’t think I do. Enlighten me.” You anchor yourself to the desk and cross one leg over the other, clearly amused.

He knows now, for certain, you’re teasing him. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you look at me?” His voice is barely a whisper. It teeters on the edge between anxiety and lust. He wants to go there, to bridge the distance, but not before you supply him with some sort of physical affirmation.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” You step towards him until he’s a breath away. You take the hand not holding his notebook gently into yours and guide it to above your skirt. His breath hitches when he feels the wetness between your thighs, even through two layers of clothes. “You feel that? That’s all because of you.”

He takes the hand you guided to your body and moves it to his erection, removing his notebook from his waist so you can see and feel the torture he's felt. Not just today, but for the past few months, it’s been like an inferno slowly crawling up his skin and setting him aflame. “You’re not the only one who’s in need of relief.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t, Yinnie.”

Those eight words unburden him from what little reservation he had left. He takes your mouth in his, claiming all the explicit and implicit words shared between you with his tongue. The first kiss is slow and world-stopping, the chasm between the tension finally sewn shut. The ones that follow are anything but slow, but they still stop the world around the two of you.

He unbuttons the center of your shirt as you tug on the hem of his sweater. He explores every piece of skin he can with his hands. The parts not occupied by his fingertips welcome his mouth, your body on fire for him. “Slow down,” you say, although the words hold no weight. He knows it. “We can’t do this here.”

“I don’t care.” He stuffs his face in between your breasts, finally placing a hickey on the tops of the slopes with reckless abandon. You writhe against his kisses, bucking up into his mouth when his breath hits one of your nipples, the bud pebbling at his attention. “I want you. Now.”

“What if someone—”

“You know you don’t give a single fuck if we get caught,” Jeongin growls, unzipping the midi skirt at your waist so it falls to the floor. He’s never been this rough, this frantic. He can only blame it on the unresolved tension he’s been sitting with for what feels like forever. You are beyond blame; you’ve given yourself to him willingly, and he’s forever grateful.

He runs his hands over your waist and exposed chest. Your breasts in his hands feel exactly like he imagined, hefty but tender. “Seeing as you eye-fuck me every chance you get, I’d say you’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

You moan at the way he nips at your neck and collarbones in tandem with his squeezing of your chest, practically biting down with his teeth as he kisses your skin. You rip his clothes off in quick succession, his sweater and undershirt joining the pile you’ve made on the floor.

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Like rapid fire, he lifts you onto the desk and splays you out over the hard plastic top, his face practically kissing your heat already. “I just need to taste you.”

You mewl at his words. He lifts your hips so he can discard your underwear and leave it in the heap of clothes. He can’t pretend he didn’t notice the wet patch at its center before he threw them to the side, though.

And at the sight of your exposed cunt, Jeongin refuses to waste another second. He dives into the cleft of your thighs with reckless abandon. Long strips and flat licks up and down your pussy make you cry out. You reach down to yank him by the top of his brown hair, rolling your hips into his face as his nose bumps your clit.

It’s even better, tastes better, than all the fantasies he conjured in the comfort of his bedroom or the embarrassing public space of the common showers. He’s thought about it for so long, too long, but all the inner workings of his mind compared to this is child’s play.

He’s not ashamed to admit eating you out may be one of the best things he’s ever done. And he knows now that he’s a liar when he said he would be quick. He’ll take his time for all it’s worth, even if the lights go out and the department building closes up for the day.

You say his name repeatedly, alongside “Just like that” as well as “Please don’t stop.”

He detaches his lips from your folds with a pornographic suckling noise and finally drops  both his pants and boxers. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. He’s done enough to prepare you for this moment.

When he slides in, he covers the entirety of your body with his own, using his long legs to keep his feet firm on the floor as he thrusts. You moan into his mouth, his tongue exploring the insides of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours are almost as lewd and animalistic as his pace going in and out of you. He tugs your bottom lip with his teeth. He feels only a smidgeon of guilt when a fragment of the skin speckles with blood, his desires giving way to acting on his impulses. But you don’t mind. If anything, you become more vocal.

He groans when you lick the blood at the corner of your lips. “You’re so dirty,” he says, pressing two of his fingers to the seam of your mouth. “Suck.”

You latch onto his digits eagerly, taking them and sucking until they practically hit the back of your throat. He chuckles darkly at the action, loving that your sexual energy matches his. He removes them from your wet mouth to circle your clit, the puffy flesh begging for as much attention as your hole.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Jeongin—”

He takes your chin in his other hand, holding it in place as he continues slamming into you mercilessly and flicking at your clit with the pads of his fingers. “That’s it, baby. Who’s making you feel like this?”

“You, Jeongin, you.” Your moans verging on screams fill the room, the sounds bouncing off the walls in salacious echoes. “God, it’s so good.”

“When you spilled that coffee all over yourself earlier, I couldn’t help picturing my cum on your chest. And you just left yourself exposed for me and everyone else to see. You’re filthy and you don’t even realize it.” He clamps down on your neck as your face remains placid, creating a new mark on you while you stay still in his hold. “Lucky for me, I love that you’re a dirty whore.”

You whimper and whine, meeting each thrust of Jeongin’s hips. “Yunnie, I’m gonna come—”

“Not yet,” he warns, halting the hand against your clit from circling any more. “Not without me, baby.”

He knows he’s just as close to his orgasm as you are, but he wants you to know who’s in charge, despite your higher educational status. Despite every worry that he wouldn’t measure up to you, you wedged underneath him proves to be the best proof to the contrary.

And now, he gets to feel your release on his mouth, his fingers, his cock. It’s an ego boost as much as it is an incredible gift to be given.

“Fuck,” he swear, “where do you want me to come, baby?”

“Inside,” you say immediately, “I want to feel all of you.”

The words on your tongue sound almost like poetry. He can’t fathom how he got so lucky. “Come with me,” he whispers in a hoarse voice. “Come all over me.”

His orgasm comes like a wave breaking against a cliff. The second your pussy flutters around his cock, signaling your release, he’s done for. He whines pitifully as his seed coats the insides of your walls, your body at his mercy as he fucks all of his cum into you.

When he watches small droplets of his release seeping out of you, he stuffs it all back in with his fingers. And when his fingers glisten with the residue, you suck them clean with a sinful smirk.

Jeongin chuckles, gleefully satiated, and kisses the tip of your nose. “I think I’m starting to love ethnolinguistics now.”

You giggle into his neck. “I bet you’ll love ethnosemantics next semester.”

“As long as you’re TA’ing it, babe,” Jeongin says before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of weed, a bit of angst

summary: a power outage leaves you stuck at steve’s apartment for the night

CHAPTER SEVEN | ❝𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌❞

Winter 2015

The call connected after only a few rings. “Hey.”

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Eddie responded. “Did it end up snowing by you?”

“Yeah, only a couple of inches, but it’s still something.” 

“Make a snowman in honor of me and send me a picture.”

You laughed a little. “It’ll be the smallest snowman in the world because there’s barely any snow on the ground, Edward.” 

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Fine, I’m not gonna do it now since it’s two in the morning, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

Things became comfortably quiet for a few moments and you kept the phone at your ear as you moved about your kitchen, searching for something to eat and ultimately settling for a bowl of dry cereal. 

“What are you doing right now?”

“Getting a snack.”

“Cereal?”

“Of course,” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “You know me so well.”

“I think I’ll always remember that because it's such a random thing,” He told you and you laughed at that. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting outside smoking.”

“I wish I was there right now,” You told him. “It’s so quiet here because my dad’s not really around. Plus, I really like your hometown.”

“Come here for spring break.”

You didn’t even need to think about his words before you were agreeing. “Okay.”

“Great,” He said. “And you already know about my very loud and obnoxious neighbors, so you’ll like it. It’s rarely ever quiet here.”

You smiled. “Any new stories to share?”

He told you about an argument he overheard yesterday, something about a lawn mower, and then the two of you talked about nothing for the next hour as you leaned back against your kitchen counter eating your cereal and Eddie smoked weed in his front yard. You could tell that he was already tired only half an hour into the call, it was always easy to hear the sleepiness in his voice, but he stayed on for you. You talked until you finally got tired, a yawn escaping your lips as you went upstairs to your childhood bedroom.

“Goodnight. Sorry for keeping you on the phone for so long.”

“No apology needed. I wanted to talk to you.”

You were shaking your head as you got under your covers. “You’re just way too nice to me.”

“I gotta be nice or else I’ll never get my tiny snowman,” He joked and you smiled at that. “G’night.”

“Bye.”

You two hung up then, and you became engulfed in silence and darkness; the soothing and comforting kind that made your eyelids feel heavy. But before you could fall asleep, you thought about the kiss— that quick moment played on what felt like a constant loop in your head. 

At first, you had wanted to just forget about it, and a part of you wished that you simply didn’t remember it like Eddie didn’t. But, the more you thought about it over the last few days that you’d been home, the more it felt easier to convince yourself that maybe it was a good thing that it happened. Because you couldn’t help but still believe that it had to mean something. 

That entire night had to mean something, actually. Eddie didn’t have his date with Chrissy; you still didn’t know the reason why she canceled it at the last second. And he kissed you at that party— even though he didn’t remember it, it still happened.

You considered finally, finally taking the plunge and just telling him how you felt when you both were back from break. Simply letting it out and letting everything else fall into the places that they were meant to fall. And somehow, the thought of finally doing it, finally admitting the truth, didn’t scare you as much as it once did.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

You tried to figure out if the silence that you and Steve were currently sitting in was comfortable or not. It felt equal parts good and bad, too much and just fine, and weird but also not really. 

You shifted slightly on the couch, which you and Steve were currently sitting on opposite sides of, folding your legs under yourself. Things didn’t immediately become quiet between you two when the power went out. Instead, you followed him, using your phone as a flashlight, as he went to find the candles he had around; there were only three. He lit them and set them on the coffee table in the living room and then that was when you two settled on the couch, a quietness starting to linger. 

It was late, getting close to midnight, and a part of you wanted to go to sleep, but there was no way that you’d be able to do so with how silent it was, and you didn’t think that you’d be able to bear sitting in it all night. Maybe it wasn’t too comfortable after all. 

You were reminded of when you and Eddie met; the broken down elevator and random conversation that forged an immediate friendship. For obvious reasons, this moment was pretty different— you and Steve weren’t strangers, although you definitely didn’t feel that far off from it, and you knew that you’d be at Steve’s place for much longer than you’d been stuck in the elevator with Eddie. 

Because of that, you were abruptly breaking the silence with the first thing that came to your mind.

“Do you remember what your last dream was about?” 

Steve was clearly surprised by the randomness of your question because all he responded with was “What?” and let out a confused laugh. 

“Things are way too quiet right now and that was the first question that came to my mind,” You told him with a shrug. “So, do you remember your last dream?” 

“Um, kinda?” He said and then paused for a moment to think. “I’m pretty sure I was just driving. But, it was in a different country because I was driving on the other side of the road.”

There was something about the mundanity of his dream that was both boring and kind of soothing to hear about. “That’s so normal.”

“What was yours?” 

You were thinking for a second before it hit you; the dream that you’d had a few nights ago that was the most recent one you remembered. “I got pushed off a cliff.”

Steve looked at you. It was too dark to read his expression, the candles weren’t doing much to light up the space, but you imagined it was one of confusion. “That sounds much more like a nightmare than a dream.”

“Yeah, abruptly waking up from that was a great way to start my Friday morning,” You responded. “I rarely remember regular dreams where I’m just doing dumb normal stuff. It’s always those falling ones that stick and they actually happen a lot. Before the cliff thing, I remember one where I was tumbling down a hill.”

“You’re talking about this so normally that I don’t know if I should feel bad or not.”

You laughed a little as you shook your head. “Definitely don’t feel bad. Just please tell me about any recurring nightmares you’ve had before.”

“I used to have this one where I’m playing basketball and then I get injured; broken ankle, broken leg, stuff like that,” He told you, which made you inwardly wince because that sounded a thousand times worse than your falling dreams. “That nightmare doesn’t happen that much anymore now, though. It used to happen a lot right when I actually got hurt playing a couple years ago.”

You nodded at that. “Oh, is that why you stopped?”

“Yeah, that injury was pretty fucked…” His eyes pulled away from yours and focused on something else. You were able to read that pretty easily; his want for the subject to change and shift away from him having to talk about his injury and probably basketball in general. 

“Y’know, I’m just now realizing that we don’t really know anything about each other. Actually, I’m not just now realizing that, I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days. How this whole thing between me and you feels like when you get partnered up on a project with that one person in class that you never really talked to before,” You were pretty much rambling at this point so you decided to stop. “But, yeah, anyway, the sentiment still stands. We know nothing about each other.”

“I think saying nothing is kind of a stretch,” Steve said, eyes meeting yours again. “I know you’re an English major and you love reading, which of course makes sense. And you have a bunch of roommates; you were just gonna have one, but then that changed to three.” 

It didn’t entirely surprise you to hear all of the stuff that he had remembered from the date; it had only been a little over a week ago. What did surprise you was that you couldn’t really say the same. The only things you remembered learning about him were his major and minor, which you already knew, and the fact that he didn’t like reading— you were vaguely reminded of an Italian mouse book series that he had apparently really liked in fifth grade. 

“Oh my god, did I seriously only talk about myself during our date?” You said, suddenly feeling entirely too embarrassed by just how true your words were. “I didn’t think I was that much of a narcissist.”

“You’re not. I just didn’t talk about myself that much,” Steve told you with a shrug.  

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

He sighed. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” 

For some reason, that made you smile. “Now, I definitely wanna hear it.” 

He sighed again and for a second you thought that he just wasn’t going to tell you, but then he was speaking. “I always do that on dates because it’s just the easiest way to keep things surface level and not serious.”

It surprised you that he sounded a little embarrassed to admit that.

“I don’t think that makes you an asshole,” You said, and you were actually being honest. You really didn’t think that him basically putting up walls was an inherently shitty thing to do, but it did sound the tiniest bit sad. You didn’t want to say that, though. “Are you tired right now?” Another conversation shift, solely for the reason that you wanted to keep things simple and easy. This was only the second real and non-fake dating conversation you two were having and you didn’t want it to lead to you two bearing your souls to each other in the dark. It felt way too soon for those kinds of conversations, and you didn’t know if you’d even get to that place with him before the month was over and you two “broke up” and went your separate ways. 

“No,” He answered with a quick shake of his head, which you were glad for because you were nowhere near being tired either. “Are you?” 

“Not even close,” You responded. “Do you have any games we can play or something?”

“I have a deck of cards.” 

“That works.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You two didn’t end up playing any actual card games. Steve attempted to teach you poker, but after only a few rounds you hated it, and there were no other games that either of you could think of with simple enough rules that you could teach him or he could teach you. Therefore, you two instead started playing with the cards themselves, attempting to build little card houses and other things, which was Steve’s suggestion. 

It had been quiet for the past few minutes, but surprisingly comfortably so. You could feel yourself becoming the tiniest bit tired, but at the same time not at all. 

“Do you like living alone?” You asked as you attempted to stand two cards up to make a sort of triangle shape and balance on each other, which actually wasn’t that easy.

“Yeah, definitely,” Steve nodded. You two were sitting on opposite sides of his coffee table and the candles had been moved to the floor— which probably should’ve felt more like a bad idea— to make room on the table. “The roommate I had Freshman year was horrible.”

You laughed at that. “I also had a shitty roommate experience Freshman year, but I still love having roommates…” You trailed off as you tried to think of the perfect way to fully sum up your thoughts toward your current roommate situation. “It feels like summer camp, but without the poison ivy and multiple cases of mono.” 

Steve gave you an amused look. “What kinds of insane summer camps did you used to go to?” 

“Really bad ones,” You told him. “And I hated it every year, but my parents were obsessed with sending me to them— especially after they got divorced— because they worked a lot and didn’t want me to be alone all the time.” 

“Okay, now it makes sense why you like having roommates.” 

You nodded. “Only child and divorced parents. Terrible combo. I hate when things are too quiet.”  

You pulled your eyes away from the cards that you finally managed to make stand on their own to look at what Steve was doing. He was much farther along than you were at building something that actually looked interesting.  

“You’re weirdly good at this,” You said when your cards fell again and instead of immediately trying to stand them back up, you watched as Steve kept building some sort of pyramid. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I used to always do this when I was bored as a kid.”

“That’s actually quite wholesome,” You told him as you picked up your two cards. A beat of silence lingered for a moment before you were speaking. “So, did you ever go to camp or were your summers spent playing with cards like a bored child in the fifties?”

The laugh Steve let out at your joke made you smile. “I only went to camp twice; when I was twelve and then thirteen. It felt a lot like the kind of summer camp that you’d see in any movie. Lots of lake stuff and campfires and that type of thing. The first year kinda sucked, but the second year was fun. I even had a camp girlfriend.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, you actually had a girlfriend?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, it was the greatest three-week-long relationship ever.”

What happened? 

That was what you wanted to ask— not what happened to the camp girlfriend because you obviously knew how those relationships went. But what happened to him wanting crushes and relationships and actual feelings? 

You didn’t ask that, though. You felt like you couldn’t; the question felt too deep, too real. And you also thought that it would be kind of pointless to ask it.

“Do you think it’s working?” Steve asked, abruptly pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“What?”

“This fake dating thing. Do you think it’s working for you?” 

“Oh, yeah, sometimes I think it actually is. Like, after game night, Eddie stayed over at the apartment and we watched TV for a few hours and then he randomly asked if I really liked you. I told him yes— obviously— and he said “Cool,” but there was this certain look on his face too. I couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but it felt like something,” You said, thinking back to that Monday night. “But, then, I also think it’s not really working because nothing like that has happened since.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true. The party a few days ago didn’t feel like nothing.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, it looked pretty clear that he didn’t want you to stay with me,” He told you and you weren’t entirely sure how true that was, the end of the night was a little bit of a blur, but you did believe Steve. “Have you ever thought that something was going to happen between you and him before? Like, moments that made it feel obvious or whatever?”

Your mind traveled to the drunken kiss at the frat party Freshman year. A fleeting kiss that felt like a distant memory at this point, and the tiniest bit like a dream. What also felt like a dream, or more so a nightmare, was the day that you came back from Winter break, weeks after the kiss. You had finally worked up the courage to tell Eddie how you felt and you were knocking on his door to do it before you could convince yourself not to. He opened the door after only a second and there he was with Chrissy. 

You didn’t immediately know it was her; at first, she was simply just a random girl wearing his t-shirt. What happened over those next few minutes was Eddie explaining to you that they met up during the last few days of break and the rest was history. They seemed happier than ever and you knew for certain that your chance was gone.

You hated thinking about that moment. You remembered feeling stupidly hopeful, like everything was going to finally fall into place for you and him, and then feeling severely disappointed, but having to hide that with a happy smile. From there you pushed everything to the side— went back to pretending that you felt nothing romantic for your best friend and simply avoided thinking about it altogether. Until they broke up and now here you were back to pining. 

It felt way too embarrassing to admit all of that to Steve right then.

“Um, I don’t know…” You finally said, trailing off and shrugging. “Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate the moments that are solely friendly with the moments that could maybe mean something more.” 

If Steve could tell that you were lying and avoiding saying a lot more, he didn’t call you out on it; which you were glad for. Instead, he simply nodded at your words. 

You pushed up the sleeves of your sweater. “These candles are making it really warm in here.” 

“I can give you something to wear if you want, so you’re not in jeans and a sweater all night.”

You hesitated just for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

You followed him to his room and stood by the door as he went to grab something for you. When he handed the clothes over, you saw that it was a t-shirt and basketball shorts. You went to the bathroom to change, keeping the door cracked so that it wasn’t entirely pitch black.

You put on the shorts first and then slipped the shirt over your head. It smelled just like Steve, which shouldn’t have been surprising at all since these were his clothes, but you still were a little startled. Maybe it felt more surprising to you that you were able to easily recognize his smell; that you could get hit with the scent of something that was somehow equal parts musky and sweet and immediately place it as Steve. 

It felt weird and almost too much, and a part of you wanted to take off his shirt, but you knew that it probably would’ve been weirder and more of a big deal if you did. So, you didn’t take it off and instead decided to actively not think about why it had felt weird to you at all. 

When you returned to the living room, you sat on Steve’s side of the table because you wanted to lean back against the couch. The pyramid he had been building was gone and instead, he just had a few cards in his hand. You noticed him yawn, which made you realize that you still weren’t really tired, and you also wondered what time it was. You grabbed your phone off the table to check the time; 1:17a.m.

“Are you tired now?” You asked Steve as you placed your phone back down. You knew what answer you were expecting to get from him, but you still wanted to ask the question anyway. 

“Not really, no,” He answered, and you, of course, didn’t believe him.

“You can go to sleep if you want,” You said, glancing at him. “I’ll be fine out here.”

You probably would end up staying up all night if he did leave you right then, but you didn't want to force him to stay awake with you if he was tired.

“It’s okay,” He said. “Let’s just keep talking.” 

You still weren’t completely convinced, but you nodded at his words anyway. 

“This is random, but sometimes Talia bakes in the middle of the night whenever she’s stressed and can’t sleep,” You told him and then let out a small laugh. “And she’s a very noisy baker. I was woken up many, many times to the sound of a mixer last semester.”

Steve turned his head to look at you. “Isn’t that annoying?”

“A little bit, yeah. But she thankfully got one of those stand mixers that are pretty quiet last month, so now it’s not that bad,” You said, and you briefly thought back to a few weeks ago when she made blueberry muffins on a random Tuesday night. “Also, we wake up to freshly baked muffins in the morning so that makes it okay too.”  

“Okay, yeah, maybe the muffins make it worth it.”  

“Very much so.” 

You poked at a few of the cards on the table, flipping them over and then flipping them back just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“Tell me about your Freshman year roommate,” Steve said. You’d forgotten that that had been briefly brought up in the conversation earlier. “Any shitty stories to share?”

“Oh, a lot. I’m pretty sure she hated me. She never blatantly said that, but it just felt obvious. Anyway, though, she always brought people over and never told me about it. I lost count of how many times I walked in on her and some guy mid-makeout,” You quickly explained. “That was actually how me and Eddie got really close. He lived across the hall from me, and his roommate was barely ever around, so I would always go over to his dorm when my roommate was being annoying.” 

“Okay, she sounds a thousand times worse than how mine was. He would mainly just leave trash everywhere and play music really loud.”

“That sounds like heaven compared to the shit I had to deal with.” 

“It was still enough to make me never want a roommate again,” Steve responded, putting the cards in his hand down on the table and leaning back against the couch. “I don’t mind the quietness that comes with no one else being here.”

“Okay, this question is very random and probably dumb, but why did you say yes to the blind date thing when Eddie asked you?” You weren’t entirely sure why you asked that, but you were curious, and also finally starting to get a little tired so your mind was moving to even more random places. The kinds of places that it wouldn’t have gone to if your lack of sleep from the night before wasn’t beginning to catch up with you. 

“He made you sound really cool and nice and—”

You stopped Steve mid-sentence. “Okay, wait, never mind, pretend I didn’t ask. It feels weird hearing that, actually.”

“Honestly, I think he probably does feel the same as you. The way he talked about you that day felt different than just how a friend talks about another friend, now that I'm really thinking about it.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that.

It was hard to tell the difference between having false hope and having expectations that were actually realistic enough to be fulfilled. You didn’t know where this Eddie thing lay. It felt so in the middle, perfectly toeing the line.

You leaned back against the couch and that was when you noticed how close you and Steve were sitting. Your sides just barely touched, the short sleeves of your respective shirts lightly brushing, but you didn’t feel the need to move over. 

“So, if this fake dating thing ends up working for you, and you’re not forced to go to the Hamptons to find your future wife, do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?” 

You figured that, at the end of the day, if what you two were doing didn’t end up working out on your side of things, at least Steve would hopefully get something good out of it. 

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe go to Europe for a bit with a few friends.”

“That’s very rich kid of you to say,” You joked. 

Steve laughed a little. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “But, I do know that it probably won’t include backpacking around Europe.”

The conversation continued moving in different directions from there, but it slowly started to fade out. With both of you saying things that probably didn’t make too much sense and probably wouldn’t even be remembered in the morning because you were falling asleep as you were talking and the lines between what was real and what felt like a dream became blurred. At some point, you were closing your eyes and leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder because you were too tired to think better of it. 

The night had felt entirely unexpected, but you were glad that it happened. You were happy about the stupid storm and stupid power outage. 

Finally, you felt like you actually knew him— not just the stuff that mattered for fake dating. He was your friend now and you were his. Neither of you would end up saying that in the morning or anytime soon, but it felt pretty obvious.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes

Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 

Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx

Masterlist

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 

Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 

Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 

A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.

“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.

“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.

“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.

“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.

“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.

“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”

“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.

“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.

“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”

“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.

The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.

“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.

“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.

“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.

“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”

“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.

“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 

You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.

You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 

Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.

“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.

Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.

“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.

“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.

“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”

“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”

“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 

“No he’s not, why would you say that?”

“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 

You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.

You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.

He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.

“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.

“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.

“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.

“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 

The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.

Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.

“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”

When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.

“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.

“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.

“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.

“You what? You move fast, man.”

“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”

“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”

The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 

Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.

“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”

“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.

“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.

“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”

“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 

You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.

“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.

“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 

“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.

“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.

“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.

“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”

“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.

You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 

Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.

“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.

“Why would they do that?”

“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.

“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.

“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”

“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.

You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.

Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 

“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.

“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.

Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.

You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 

Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.

There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.

Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.

Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.

“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.

“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”

“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.

“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.

Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.

Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 

Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 

He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.

“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.

“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.

“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.

“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.

“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.

“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.

You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 

Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.

“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.

“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.

“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.

The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.

[cupcakequeen-2005]

IF I WAS THE MAN CHAPTER THREE: pleaseee

Masterlist

WARNING: swearing

“Thank you, class. Now remember that the final exams for this semester are next week. For some of you, these exams are more important than others,” Professor Yaga announces, his gaze locking onto a short black-haired boy with a scar on his lip. The boy, seems confused, as if he can't quite figure out how he ended up in such a difficult class.

As you finish packing your bag and head towards the door, you overhear a couple of girls chatting in the hallway. Their voices are filled with excitement.

“I’m so excited about this party. You have no idea, Yuki!” one of them exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement. You glance over and see she’s quite pretty, with long, silky black hair cascading down her back, with a small pink bow at the top.

The other girl, a blonde with bright, curious eyes, grins mischievously. “Yeah, do you think you'll finally get with Gojo?” she asks, her tone teasing.

“Ugh, I hope so!” the first girl responds. “He is sooo cute, and I think he likes me,” she adds, her voice dropping to a whisper.

You roll your eyes at their discussion and assume it’s the same party they are talking about, that Inumaki had been begging you to go to early that week.

As you leave the classroom, navigating through the crowded hallway, desperate to get back to your dorm and study, you suddenly bump straight into the back of someone. Ready to give whoever you just bumped into a piece of your mind, you look up and see the familiar face of a boy with messy brown hair thrown into two messy ponytails. Dressed in all black, quiet tall and well-built, his dark eyes softening when they meet yours.

“Y/N, hey!” Choso’s familiar voice calls out over the loud crowd of students passing his, with a warm smile spreading across his face as he recognizes you. 

“Hey, Cho~,” you respond, with a warm smile relieved its him, as you continue to weave through the sea of students. Choso is following closely behind you.

“Are you working today?” he asks curiously.

“No, I have exams next week. I need to study,” you sigh.

“Aww, I was looking forward to working with you today,” he says, pouting slightly.

You and Choso have known each other for years, having met at the quaint café where you both now work. He was the reason you even knew Yuji and the others in the first place, and over time, you had both developed a soft spot for each other.

“I’m sorry, Cho. I want to get top marks this semester,” you explain, feeling a wave of guilt washing over you.

“Nah I get it. Well, are you at least going to the party next weekend?” he asks, with excitement in his eyes.

“God no,” you reply with a chuckle, shaking your head.

“Surely come along, and isn’t your whole friend group going?” Choso points out.

“You know I don’t like parties. Plus, I’m sorry to say, but I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of sweaty, desperate frat boys,” you admit, grimacing at the thought of it.

He laughs, a deep and comforting sound that seems to envelop you. “I'll be there and I’m not sweaty and desperate, am I?”

“I guess not,” you reply with a smirk, feeling a bit of your tension ease.

“Will you at least think about it?” he asks, his tone gentle but persistent.

“I don’t know, Choso,” you say, uncertain of the idea of going.

“You know, even the most important politicians partied now and then,” he teases with a smirk, trying to lighten your mood.

You take a deep sigh. “Fine, I’ll think about it, okay?” you say slightly frustrated at the fact people keep asking you to come, but you know he means well and just wants you to have some fun.

He smiles, nodding his head in satisfaction. “Well, I better go. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” you say softly, with a small smile forming endeared by his persistence. “Bye, Choso.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Choso says, walking away as he quickly disappears in the wave of students.

As you continue back to your dorm, the thought lingers in your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go to the party. Plus I should celebrate the exams finishing.

notes and extras :3

Ngl y/n is annoying me lets hope for some character development

Ooooo something is up with Choso

inumaki got so upset when the others were teasing y/n about Choso

Toji Cheated on one of his exams that got him into that class lol

y/n said Choso was cute when she was drunk once and maki has held onto that

Y/n was chanting witch spells from her room so loudly she got a complaint

Y/n may or may not go to the party because of Choso

a/n: No gojo in this episode butttt there may be another episode from his pov coming tomorrow we will see tehehe. You guys have given me such good ideas on what i can do further in the story.

TAGS: @kuniz-darlingg@n1vi@pluhhbabyy@s777athv@naviaberries @sp1tw1tch. @s4ikooo1 @ctmaw

[nnight-dances]

FADE INTO YOU ˚₊☆ ‧₊˚

[a sequel to REPETITION / RARE LOVE]

Mingyu, your best friend turned lover, is possibly the best thing that's happened to you. But as you juggle a rigorous summer internship and pressure from home, you start to spiral. Overworked and isolated, you're spiraling and the cherry on top: you overhear Mingyu say some things that have you convinced he's tired of you. Fighting takes on a different meaning now that you aren't just a couple of besties and heartache is possibly inevitable.

PAIRING: kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, some suggestive content toward the end

TROPES: unhealthy working habits, miscommunication or rather lack of communication, mean mother, hurt/comfort question mark, you're on your period as well as sick at one point, arguing and conflict :/

WORD COUNT: 6.5k approximately

"So, how's it going with Mingyu?" 

"It is…" you trail off as you poke at the discarded pizza crust on your plate, "...going well."

Yunjin's smile retracts at your hesitant pause. "What's wrong?"

"I never said anything was wrong. On the contrary, if you were listening to what I just said–"

"That pause was at least three seconds long. Three seconds, Y/N! That's the first sign!"

You frown, "The first sign of what?"

"A fight. You're fighting with Mingyu, aren't you?"

"I mean, fighting is what we do. Most of our relationship is based on the other's ability to be a witty bastard." You scoff uneasily. "I think we'd be in trouble if we weren't fighting." 

"You and I both know that's not what I meant," Yunjin sighs at your antics. "I'm talking about a real fight."

"...No. We're fine, Yunjin, you're worrying over nothing."

Though she drops the topic thereafter, you can tell by the way she bids you goodbye, leaving with a sneaky "make up with Mingyu before it's too late!!!" that she's not convinced. On the ride back home, you stare at your phone as you go over the conversation again and again. Biting your lip, you wonder why Yunjin had been inclined to think that you were fighting with Mingyu in the first place, anyway.

The thought, though not unsurprising, was a little out of place in your head. 

Truth be told, all isn't well with you.

You'd been having a couple of rough weeks and it had a lot to do with the fact that you'd chosen to not go back home for the summer, choosing to stay in your college town to pursue an internship there instead. While the internship itself was overwhelming at times, at the end of the day, you felt more fulfilled than ever. However, the consequences of you not visiting your family had you rubbing your temples more often than not every time you fielded a call from one of your parents. 

And though you'd told them that the only reason you weren't back home was your internship, there was more to it than that. For one, as much you missed basking in the attention of your parents and showering your sweet dog with love, you also were actively avoiding the suffocation of home: the prying questions about your future career, the insanely invasive relatives who would no doubt leave snide remarks in their wake, and of course, everyone's reactions to your best friend to lovers arc with Kim Mingyu. 

You'd been renting a place with Mingyu over these few months because he, too, had decided to stay back to take a summer class and study in advance for some difficult courses next semester. Most days, it was everything you'd wanted: waking up to a warm bed and the sound of Mingyu snoring into your neck, slow breakfasts cooked mostly by Mingyu while you clung to his waist, and long days at the desk in front of your computer. Well, the last part wasn't ideal but every time your supervisor assigned you a new, more advanced task, you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself. 

However, some days weren't as dreamy as you'd hoped they would be. To begin with, the past week had you waking up with heavy eyelids, perhaps something to do with the late nights you'd been pulling to finish your work, and an empty bed. Mingyu's class had started meeting earlier thanks to the heat in the afternoons, which meant you were left to fend for yourself during breakfast. Head heavy, you'd drag yourself to eat some sloppy cereal and get to work: somewhat manageable of a day. 

But today as you're swirling through your bowl of muesli to pick out some raisins, your phone buzzes on the table. If the sudden sound doesn't startle you, the name on the screen definitely has your heart beating a little bit faster: it's your mother. You're already dreading the conversation. 

"Hello?" 

"Did you just wake up?" comes your mother's voice, her tone already hostile. Great. 

"Um, yeah, I woke up like half an hour ago. Why?"

"...Nothing. It's just I thought you were really busy with classes."

"Mom, I've told you it's not class, it's an internship. Two very different things." You inhale deeply to calm yourself. When she asks you if you've eaten, you tell her you're currently having some muesli. Ignoring the scoff that she lets out, you ask her about her day, a question that she gives her usual vague answer to. You try to engage with her rationally, intent on getting some cordial connection with her.

But honestly, it's no use, your mother's set on picking you apart today and so she does, especially when you let it slide that Mingyu's at class. 

"In class? Already? Y/N, you should learn a thing or two from him. Just because you're dating him doesn't mean you can slack off like this, okay? I don't want to see you become lazy over some man. I don't care how rich–"

You cut her off, afraid of what you might have to hear if you didn't. "Mom. I can't believe you're making this a competition! I'm not making an enemy out of my boyfriend because you want me to."

Your stomach lurches at how high-pitched your voice sounds to your own ears, vision blurring somewhere along the way. "Fine. If you're gonna scream at me every time I call you, I might as well stop." 

"Mom–" She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you staring at the fading screen with her contact photo on it. It was a picture of the two of you, with you grinning as she leaned in to peck your cheek. It was maybe one of your favorite photos, especially when you came to associate it with phone calls with your mother, something that used to be a comfort amidst the chaos of your life. Now, you weren't so sure as you rested your forehead against the wooden table, eyes swimming with unshed tears. You blink them away, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, because despite everything, you didn't have the time to cry over this. 

So slowly, you pick yourself, wiping at your cheeks. You move on in your day, washing your dishes as well as Mingyu's from earlier this morning. You shower, and pat your face with skincare, find a shirt that doesn't remind you of home, and take a seat at your workstation in the living room. Headphones on your ears, the reminder of your fight with your mother slowly fades away as you begin working. 

Despite everything, you found yourself thinking later that afternoon as you refilled your water bottle, you were so grateful for Mingyu and the stability that he brought you, whether it be as a friend or as a roommate. It was with this reliance on him that you pushed yourself through the day. So when he came back from class, more sullen than usual, you find yourself instantly unsettled.

"Gyu?" you call out, removing your headphones when the jingling of keys catches your attention. The big guy stoops in the hallway, removing his shoes and outerwear before stepping in. He makes eye contact and the soft smile he shoots you, you can tell, is forced. You're standing up, "Hey, you're late today. Everything okay?"

"Not at all. Prof kept us back late to throw extra credit stuff at us. It's ridiculous but I needed it, so I stayed back." You nod in understanding as you walk to him in the kitchen, watching as he washes his hand and pours himself cold water. "It was worst though, babe, I kept falling asleep."

You match the pout on his lips when he finally meets you at the kitchen counter, hands finding your waist as you press yourself into him. "Hmm, sorry to hear that, Gyu. Did you not sleep much last night?"

"No, it's real weird. I kept waking up in the middle of the night. And every position I slept in was so uncomfortable. Plus, I kept thinking I was gonna wake you up on accident."

"Ha, and since when have you cared about my sleep?" you chuckle into his chest, "Just wake me up next time and we can have hot cocoa or something."

Mingyu hums in appreciation around you, "I'll make you regret that offer tonight."

You hit him when you separate, eyes trailing back to your workspace and Mingyu catches on as his hands tighten around ever so slightly. Eyes desperate, he asks, "You wanna watch a movie tonight? I can order some fried chicken." 

You light up momentarily and then are instantly reminded of the deadline that awaits you in a few days. Mingyu notices you stiffen a little and you sigh. "I have that stupid report due on Friday, Gyu," you whine.

"Can't you take a break for a while? You've been working so hard lately." Mingyu brushes your hair back, his thumb rubbing at your jaw gently. "You deserve some time off." When you seem to remain in your rumination period, Mingyu presses a peck on your lips. "Please?"

You groan as you playfully push him away, "God, I hate it when you're physically affectionate as a way to entice me into doing things with you."

"So movie night's on?"

"...Are you ordering the chicken or should I?"

"Hehe, I love you."  

"Ew, stop, Gyu, go take a shower!!"

As you steer Mingyu toward your shared bedroom, you make your way back to your desk, invigorated by the promise you've made to Mingyu to finish as much as you can for tonight. The motivation's enough to push you into the zone as you go through your notes and begin typing away. 

You don't realize how much time's passed until you feel Mingyu's cold hands press against your collarbones. You jump at the sudden touch but groan in familiarity as fingers gingerly find your scalp before you can scold him for surprising you. 

But then you look at the time and curse under your breath, "Fuck, I forgot to order the–"

"It's okay, I ordered fifteen minutes ago. It'll be here in ten."

You kiss Mingyu's knuckle apologetically, "Thanks, babe. I'll let you choose the movie for tonight."

"Really?" he squeals, and you guffaw at the way he flaps his arms around excitedly, making his way to the couch and TV. "Oh my God, this is so sudden. I need to see if they have all the Nancy Meyers movies on Netflix– Or wait, I could pirate it– Or wait, what about our subscription to– Oh no, I forgot to pay the–" 

You slowly turn back around as your boyfriend busies himself with picking a movie for the night and your head throbs as you look at your screen, feeling guilty about ditching the work that awaited you. But then, you tune back into the rambling Mingyu in your living room and you can't help but care more about sitting in your boyfriend's arms with fried chicken crumbs all over your lap. 

And that's what you find yourself doing half an hour later. It's a little bit concerning how focused on the movie– The Holiday, Mingyu had finally chosen– so much so that you have to keep pushing him to eat as well. At one point he chokes on some chicken and you have to pat his back real hard to make sure he stays alive. 

"Are you sure you're trying to keep me alive because–" Cough, "you're going really hard, babe."

You laugh as he returns to normal and push a glass of water toward him, "Of course, big guy, I wouldn't be able to pay rent if you died so keeping you alive makes top 3 on my to-do list."

"Top three? What's more important than keeping me alive?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all – duh, keeping myself alive. That's second on my to-do list."

"Y/N," Mingyu starts warningly, "Please don't tell me number one on your to-do list is to video-record me screaming at that one Youtube video of scary ghost sounds."

"No! Obviously not, Gyu."

"..."

"It was to record you crying over a video of babies saying their first words."

"Aww, come on, Y/N! You know how I feel about that! It's like their lives have begun when they start speaking! They're all alone in this big world!! And don't even get me started when their first words are a parent's name– That's like endgame right there!!!"

Eventually, the two of you manage to get back on track when it came to actually watching the movie – except, you don't. Admittedly, once you've both finished your food and settled in to focus on the television screen, you find your mind wandering. And while once that would've meant something entirely NSFW, thanks to your long hours, you find yourself thinking about work. The work that's sitting right there on your desk that you can see, just sitting there in the darkness, all tangible and full of consequences behind the TV.  And once you start thinking, there's no stopping it and before you know it, you're all up in your head. 

So much so that you're brought back to earth when Mingyu pauses the movie and stares you donw in silence. It takes you a moment but then you bite your lip as you meet his gaze, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed cheating on him. And well, the way he looked at you in disappointment, you might as well have been. 

"Y/N, you've been looking at your desk longingly for the past ten minutes."

You really don't have anything to say for yourself except, "I'm really sorry, Gyu."

He sighs at your quick admission of guilt and you hate the way he peels his arm of your shoulder. "It's okay, if you need to work, you can go work."

"No, but we're watching a movie–"

"There's no point to it if you're distracted."

"I'm sorry, I won't think about work, promise."

"No, no, it's okay, babe," Mingyu reassures you, hand finding your shoulders, rubbing circles into it as you look back at him in dismay, "I'm serious, I don't want to keep you from completing your work. We can finish watching the movie later, alright?"

You deflate a little, "Okay. But I promise I'll make it up to you, okay, Gyu?"

Your boyfriend simply smiles at you and the sight makes you regret ever making him pause the movie when you could've been cuddling into his warmth instead. But he's so sweet when he kisses your cheek, "Don't worry about it, my love." 

The next few days find you absolutely swamped because where you'd thought things would get better slowly, they only got worse. Your internship was more stressful than ever as you found yourself going later and later into the night to keep up with the tasks assigned to you. The report was coming along slower than you'd like. But while you could do something about those things, there were things that felt completely out of your reach. 

For one, you'd been ignoring your mother's calls, a measure you'd taken to protect your fragile mental state. Each time you'd send her quick but cold text saying something along the lines of I'm too busy to talk right now. You felt bad every time you left her hanging but it was undeniable that you felt slightly less deranged in the monrings without her daily check-in. 

But there was also the situation with Mingyu. Ever since movie night, you'd only spent lesser time with him, to the point that even getting to sleep in the same bed at him counted as a win for you. Even when he would come back around lunch but you'd be too busy working to notice and dinners were usually just the two of you talking back and forth about your days. 

At dinner, he seemed fine, answering your questions about class enthusiastically and listening to your own responses eagerly. But you'd notice the way he'd be quick to clear the table once you were both done eating, not even taking the chance to ask you to watch a movie or talk more with him. And though it stung right through your heart, the fact that you couldn't afford to take the initiative yourself left you no choice but to watch as he retired to the bedroom for the night. 

Which is when you come back from that lunch with Yunjin, your head's reeling. Were Mingyu and you fighting? Could you be? It didn't feel like a fight, it was a lot more nonverbal. More subtle. She'd asked you if things were okay and they weren't, but it's also not like they were terrible. They were just worse than okay. 

But Thursday night came around, and you were closer than ever to finish that godforsaken report and head into a much-needed weekend off. Feeling a little cheery in anticipation of all the free time you'd have, you thought you might take a break and ask if Mingyu to get late night ice-cream, an offer you knew he would never turn down. 

However, you're about to enter the room where Mingyu's said he's going go "rot while watching life-sucking short-form media content" (his own words from two hours ago) when you hear his low voice, presumably on the phone. 

"...yeah, man, I don't know, it's getting pretty bad.."

You freeze instantly, your guts lurching as they tell you this conversation probably has something to do with you. Before you can feel bad about eavesdropping or consider the possibility that you're only projecting, Mingyu goes on–

"Of course I've told her! Or at least, I've tried to tell her. I keep trying to get her to leave the house for something other than grocery runs… but it's no use. I kinda gave up after that." He sighs heavily and you hear the sheets shuffle, probably as he turns to his other side, voice now muffled. 

Your fists are at your sides, tight but shaky as you take in what he's saying, both in shock but also in acknowledgment. 

"It's hard for me, too, yeah, I guess. I miss her… non-overburdened self. I wish I could end the stress somehow…"

His voice gets harder to hear at that point or maybe you stop listening– it's hard to tell with the flood of thoughts in your head by then. You detach from the bedroom door and your legs drag you to your desk. You feel yourself sit but mentally, you're still outside the room, hearing Mingyu's honest thoughts for the first time in a week. Honestly, you ought to have seen it coming, with your one-track mind and his tendency to keep things to himself. 

I kinda gave up after that point… You know he's referring to getting you around to a healthier work schedule and still, you can't help but think of the words more generally. Like, in the context of your relationship and well– it was all dominoes anyway, right? One thing after another. Today, it was you neglecting spending time with Mingyu over your internship, tomorrow, what if he's giving up on you and your inability to prioritize? 

You take in a deep breath to steady yourself, feeling your thoughts get out of control. But they don't let up, Mingyu's words ringing in your head loud and clear. He wanted to end the stress– you were causing him stress. You lean into your chair and look up at the ceiling, stomach uneasily swirling. 

No, you tell yourself, you couldn't go based off a snippet of a conversation you eavesdropped on. Besides, Mingyu had every right to be tired of your work ethic and there was nothing you could do except try to get better at it. Slowly, you bring yourself to stare at your screen, plans to take an ice-cream break long abandoned.

A small part of you rationalized that it was already past one and starting tomorrow might be a better idea, but the larger and much more emotional part of you could only hear Mingyu's worn-out voice in the deep of night, and you know you can't stop till you're done.

…And that's how it's nearly six in the morning by the time you pick yourself off your chair. Good news: you've finished one of the biggest reports you'd submit during your internship, which meant you could take a few days off. Bad news: working an all-nighter on top of your sleep-deprived state meant you were barely functioning as you hauled yourself to bed.

More bad news: in your delirious state, you don't make it to the bedroom and pass out on the couch. 

Three hours later, Mingyu wakes up to a cold pillow next to his and sits up faster than he's ever before, mind racing as he calls out for you. Going to sleep to an empty bed, he was used to, but waking up to one was new for him. Every morning, it was to your peaceful sleeping figure he'd open his eyes to, without a mistake. It was the one constant that he was holding on to every morning. So yeah, he's pretty panicked when he finds you passed out cold on the couch. 

He debates why you might've slept on the couch instead of the bed and almost wakes you up because he can't stand the thought that he might've been the reason why. But he stops himself when he hears you snore quietly and instead presses a hand to your cheek lovingly– only to find you burning up. 

"Fuck." 

Fuck is right because when you finally come to, around two hours later, your body feels like a rock and not at all in a zen way. More so, in the way that every time you move, a shriek rips itself from your throat. Speaking of your throat, it's literally never been this dry. When you manage to sit up in bed and take a sip of the water that's conveniently placed next to you–

You half-choke on the liquid in your throat as you realize your surroundings. You didn't remember going to bed last night but then you spot the note on your side. It's from Mingyu.

Y/N: YOU WERE PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH LIKE AN IDIOT. YOU ALSO HAVE A FEVER. CAN U EAT THE PORRIDGE IN THE FRIDGE AFTER HEATING IT UP? I WILL BE BACK BY 3, HAVE A STUPID WORKSHEET TO TURN IN TODAY :( 

And then, in smaller writing:

we'll talk when i get back, okay?

[PS: please be alive when i come back or trust, i will make u pay rent from your grave]

You laugh at his note, the scrawny letters ever so characteristic of him, but immediately regret it when your headache makes its presence known. You groan as you get out of bed. The morning only seems to get more painful as you nurse your burnout-induced fever. Because the universe has perfectly timed your period to start today. So that's already two kinds of pains you're fighting in bed, when your phone rings a little too loud for your liking.

You don't who else you expect: it's your mother. And this is probably not a good time to hear her voice, not when you weren't on good terms, but the combination of your period and a fever has left you more emotionally vulnerable than ever and you find yourself craving her love.

Except you should've known better because when you answer the phone in a weak voice, muttering a "Hi," she's already snapping at you. "Took you long enough to stop ghosting your own mother!"

"Sorry, Mom, I was just… really busy with work. But I'm–"

"Why do you sound like that?" she sounds concerned and the indication of worry has you feeling a little warm despite everything. So you let it slip that you're sick. And where you'd thought you'd receive consolation and cooing, your mother's only reprimanding you: "Great. Now you've gotten yourself sick. You can't even take yourself, can you? When will you grow up, Y/N?"

You barely hold the sob that escapes your lungs at her harsh criticism and she catches on: "Are you crying? Y/N, you're such a kid–" And that's it, you give up. Silently, you hang up on your mother but instead of watching her contact photo fade, you throw your phone away from you in despair and hear as it lands on the floor with a crash. 

And God, everything might've hurt like hell before but now that you're crying, it's so much worse, you think you're going to die. But painful or not, the nasty crying actually feels good when it's out of your system and you think your fever might even be clearing up by the time you hear the front door open, signalling Mingyu's return. 

You sit up in bed, tears long wiped and phone recovered from the floor, as Mingyu enters the room with careful steps. When he notices you awake, he relaxes and meets your eyes with a concerned frown. 

"Hi, Gyu," you greet him through a small smile. 

Mingyu's cautious, more so than you've ever seen him as he regards you from the door of your bedroom: "Hi, babe. Are you feeling better?"

You nod, "Much. Thanks for the porridge. It was disgustingly healing."

Mingyu approaches the bed now, but instead of the quick affection you thought you might receive, he only narrows his eyes at you. Damn it, what was it with your loved ones and just being nice to you for once? (It might have something to do with… like, the consequences of your actions but you don't want to think too hard right now). 

"Why…" Mingyu starts and his voice is unfamiliarly grave. You almost shiver because you must've fucked up big-time if Kim Mingyu's bringing up serious talk for the first time in your years-long relationship with him. "Did you sleep on the couch last night?"

You swallow against your throat, dry once again but for different reasons. "Um, funny story, I kinda passed out there last night… or this morning. But!" you quickly supply your mistake with, "I finished my report early so I have all of today and the weekend to just do nothing."

Once again, Mingyu's looking at you, face serious, not even a hint of a smile and Yunjin's words are returning to you. As much as you hate to admit it, maybe you are fighting with Mingyu and fuck, you hate it. 

"Are you seriously pretending like everything's okay, Y/N?"

Mingyu's words are like a slap across your face, except instead of sending you flying, you end up returning to his words the night before. It's hard for me, he'd said, and you feel the weight of your selfishness all at once, the doubts you'd gotten yourself sick over invading your mind once again. Your eyes fall to your hands.

"You've been working yourself like a dog, Y/N! And now you're sick! Does that make you happy?"

God, you hate the way he says your name like it's a bad word. Or worse, like you're a stranger. Everything he says is a reminder of the burden you've been to him. 

"I'm sorry," your voice is small and you raise your eyes to his– which is a mistake because you catch the hurt look on his face and fuck, you're tearing up. So much for getting it out of your system beforehand. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Gyu."

Mingyu, on the other hand, is completely taken aback when you start shaking, hot tears streaming down your face rapidly. He'd been upset at your poor health and your mental condition the past few days, but he'd expected you to fight back; to defend your actions and to justify why you did what you did like you usually would. It'd be an intense going back and forth but the two of you would eventually fight it out.

But to see you break like this, fists wrapped tight around each other to the point of white– shit, he hadn't seen this coming.

The thing is you've both been on completely different wavelenghts for a while now. Where you've been plagued with self-doubt and guilt because of work, strained calls with family, and now, your fight with Mingyu; Mingyu's just been lonely. It didn't help that you weren't doing too much except small talk in your free time with him.

"Hey, baby, please, I'm– I didn't mean to make you cry. Please, you'll make yourself more sick."

You look up at him through tears in confusion, voice breaking, "You're… not mad at me?"

Mingyu frowns, "I am. But it doesn't mean I'll watch you cry yourself to death."

"God, I'm sorry, Gyu… I– I overheard you talking on the phone last night."

It takes him a moment to make sense of what you're saying but when his own conversation comes back to him, his heart's squeezing uncomfortably. "You heard me?" He feels guilt, regret, and hurt all at once. 

"I'm so sorry, Mingyu, I didn't mean to be such a bad girlfriend– heck, I was such a bad roommate this past week. And I'm sorry I was a burden to you when you have your own problems to deal with–"

Mingyu interrupts you when he crawls upto and places your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are wide and you can visibly see the tears pricking there as he stares at you. "Y/N, the literal love of my life, what the actual fuck are you saying? You're not a burden to me. And what problems have you burdened with me when we barely talk about anything real these days?"

You purse your lips at the deserved call-out and Mingyu shakes you, "Babe, I wish you were more burdensome. I want to know everything that's worrying you. Please, I can't be there for you if I don't even know what demons you're fighting."

You blink away fresh tears at his genuine words. "I'm… on my period."

"Oh," breathes Mingyu, hands dropping to your shoulders, "Is it your first day?"

"Yes. And I've been fighting with my mom. My whole family maybe. But specifically her."

Mingyu wraps his arms fully around you this time. "God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea you were having family problems. Is it because you didn't go back home?" When he feels you slowly nod against him, he says, "That sucks. But did you tell them how hard you've been working at this internship?"

"Mhmm, but my mom still thinks I won't ever be as good as you."

Mingyu pulls away at that, "Me? You talk to your mom about me? Wait, no, I mean, why does she think that?"

You contain a smile, "She knows you have summer school and that you go to class at nine. That's much more admirable than stupid little me who wakes up at eleven and eats cereal for breakfast. And then I went and got sick. So now she also thinks I can't take care of myself."

"...I think she might be right about that last part," Mingyu tells you with a pointed look and you push him away with a broken sigh. 

"I know, but you know what really gets my goat, Gyu? That you were dishing about me to someone else instead of calling me out to my face. If I was being a little bitch, I would rather you tell me. I don't want you to bottle it up and end up feeling resentful toward me."

"Hold on a minute, where is this coming from? Who said anything about you being a little bitch? If anything, you were a really massive bitch but only to yourself. I could tell that you felt bad about not spending time with me. But I wasn't ever resentful, I was just… lonely. I meant what I told Shua last night: I just miss you! And doing things with you..."

You scan his face for signs of any dishonesty but it's the same handsome but honest face that stares back at you. You lean into him until your forehead bumps against his chest, partly to feel his warmth again and partly to hide the tears that bubble out again. "Sorry. I was just. I was so scared that you were gonna want to break up with me."

Almost instantaneously, Mingyu's grip is on you, stronger than usual so that it actually hurts as he pulls you away. "What?" he asks in disbelief, "Are you genuinely insane. I'm going to need you to never say those words again. Please. Don't bring the possibility of that into existence or I will have to hurl myself back into my mother's womb."

You find yourself half-laughing and half-crying at his hysteric concern, entertained but also so incredibly relieved that Mingyu hates the thought of leaving you as much you do.

While you don't say anything and simply travel the territory between laughter and tears, Mingyu is genuinely losing it: "No, Y/N, I don't think you understand. That is simply not on the table. We've been dating for like, three months? I have so many things I want to do with you, okay? So if you're having these thoughts, throw them the fuck out because I'm going to actually pass away."

You finally break and shut Mingyu up with a kiss– a real kiss, and only pull away to mumble, "It's been a while, boyfriend. I love you so much it hurts."

You're only a little shocked when Mingyu sniffles, because you'd felt his cheeks dampen halfway through the kiss. His hand finds the back of your neck, keeping your lips a breath away from his. "Stupid girlfriend. Thinks she can play with my feelings and then kiss her way through a sorry." But he kisses you again anyway and you kiss him back with equal passion, convincing him enough to stop his crying.

"God, we must both look like shit right now," you giggle when you pull away, running a finger across his red cheeks. "Sorry I made you cry."

"I love you," Mingyu replies, "And if you ever overwork yourself to the point of sickness again, I will hurt you." 

"The way we talk is concerning to me sometimes. It sounds like we're… married or something. As if we're not literal college students. And as if you're not the biggest coward ever."

"Not sure why you felt the need to say that last thing but– Wasn't it Kazuha who said we were like her parents sometimes? We could live-stream our fights and market them as childhood nostalgia for kids around the world."

You can't keep your laughter in at his plan, but hit his arm anyway to let him know where you stood. "Damn it, Kim Mingyu, that's it, I'm going to call Zuha and tell her to block you as soon as she can." 

"But before I do that, can we go back to being irresponsible, unmarried young adults in love and order take-out for dinner? Please?"

Mingyu's grinning already, and you want to pick him up and pocket him for how adorable he can be but resort to gazing at him with hearts for eyes as he declares, "Of course, love, what do you wanna eat tonight?"

"You can decide. I'll go wash up in the meantime."

"Wait, I'll come with, I need to shower, too."

Now things start to get better. You settle into a comfortable silence with Mingyu, and as you snuggle next to him, you let the scent of him overwhelm you with a giddy smile. The food in your plate is warm and Mingyu is giggly as you finally finish watching The Holiday, and for once, your period cramps are merciful, for the pain of laughter brewing in your stomach is far more intense.

And the pain of love, as you watch Mingyu put away the leftovers from dinner and clean up the kitchen for the night. You'd volunteered to do the dishes but he simply pushed you into a chair at the kitchen table with a soft sigh and honestly, you're not complaining. He's better at doing them anyway.

In the dim glow of the quiet kitchen light, Mingyu's all soft edges, so careful as he wipes the damp plate you'd shared just a few minutes ago and the look in his eyes is loving when he finally makes his way back to you, asking if you'd like to head to bed now.

For the next few days, it's so easy to forget about time because you find yourself talking it away in Mingyu's arms, fighting the urge to kiss him every time he guffaws at something you say. But you also let him drag you out of the house, a real date in the city, both of you dressed up and blushy under the lamplights as you walk back from dinner. 

Wine-drunk, Mingyu stops you outside the front-door to the apartment and leans down to peck your cheek. The modest action has you all flustered and you let out an embarassed huff. "What are you kissing me good-night for?" you ask, more amused than you are confused. 

Mingyu's eyes twinkle in response, head clearly wrapped around some new plot. "I said I'd walk you home. This is home. You should head inside first." 

You laugh when he stands with his hands politely clasped in front of him, catching on to the bit. Only Kim Mingyu would think to pretend to be a shy first date dropping you off home, as if you hadn't known each other for as long as you'd known to love. 

"Ah, I didn't even realize we reached home. Such a shame," you cheekily step closer to him, one hand brushing against his crossed arms, "Do you want to come inside? We can… do things."

Mingyu breaks character with a toothy grin at that, "You're so bad at this!"

"What?" you ask in feigned offense, "I'm inviting you inside!"

"Yeah, but to "do things"? Is that really how you've been flirting with your first dates, babe? Actually, no, don't answer that– Unless? There's no way that works, right? Or do you just charm your way through the awkwardness– No, but that's just–"

"Okay, now you're rambling, big guy," you hook an arm around his and pull him inside after you. "Come on inside, we have things to do."

"Hmm, and these things…" Mingyu hums with an undertone of mischief, his arms sneaking around your waist already, "...they wouldn't include getting naked and um, cuddling?"

"Gross, Gyu! I was offering to watch a movie but– You're such a creepy little pervert– Ha– AGH, Okay, okay, okay, sorry, I'll stop! You can drop the threatening sock now please– NO, DON'T YOU DARE THROW IT AT ME, KIM MINGYU–" 

The next day, you're sure to call Yunjin up, who picks up with a heavy groan and before she can curse you out for waking her, you ask her if she wants to get lunch. "Gyu's coming, too, if that's okay?" Yunjin pauses. And then: "Ugh. So you guys finally made up? Thank God. I was getting tired of the passive aggressive texts from Joshua about you and Mingyu. Speaking of which, can I invite Joshua? He'll shut up if he sees you two in love in person."

– 

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i tried to preserve the best friend banter dynamic but given that they were fighting, it was a liltle hard. idk i can't tell if this is any good but it's something! i promise to proof-read later.... probably... anyway, ... thank you for reading and i love reading any feedback slash reviews in the tags so pls do let me know <3 lots of love to my friends and foes!!!! bye.

[nhl-stories]

. – Quinn Hughes

Summary: Ignoring the pain of a break up is a lot easier when you're not best friend's with your ex's brother

Author’s Note: A song title being a period is very annoying for writing, prepare for angst below

Word Count: 4.4k​

Album Series Masterlist

It's been so hard Ever since you broke my heart But I'll never tell Honey, I'm not doing so well

It’s like a rite of passage to get a crush on your friend’s older sibling. There’s some sort of forbidden love chemical that goes off in your brain and you just can’t help it.

You never expect anything to happen with it, maybe some embarrassing moments of staring or a few ridiculous confessions in a diary, but nothing more.

Lux wishes her crush could have been more aptly named, and the puppy love had been squashed before anything actually happened.

“Can I get into my house and wash the car off of me before you start bothering me,” Lux tries to sidestep Jack who’s sitting on her porch.

After a five-hour drive, the last thing she needs is to deal with a needy Jack. She’s physically exhausted and doesn’t feel like becoming emotionally exhausted on top of it.

“No, you ignored my texts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she rolls her eyes.

She tries using her suitcase to box him out and make it to the door, but of course he’s faster than her and grabs her ankle pulling her down onto the porch into a heap. She sits up with a huff, but can’t help but notice how serious Jack looks.

“Are you gonna ignore me all summer? Because you graduate next year and you may never get a summer off again!”

“You can’t expect me to just happily go hang out at the lake all summer.”

“She’s only gonna be there for like two weeks, she has a job to go back to,” he says it like it’s a selling point.

“You know it’s not just about her, but since I can already see you’re not going to stop unless I say yes, I’ll see you in two weeks,” she tries to escape again, but Jack grabs her wrist.

“Luxy, please come to the party this weekend, my mom would love to see you,” she wants to kick him for playing the mom card, “and I’ll even drive you home so you don’t have to spend the night.”

She narrows her eyes, “Yeah right, you’ll get drunk and then I’ll be held captive in the house of testosterone.”

Jack’s eyes dart around because he can’t deny the possibility of that happening.

“Don’t let Quinn ruin our summer fun,” he settles on that dagger.

“Fine,” she caves and Jack does a fist pump in response, “but you have to stay here for dinner because my mom keeps peeking through the curtain and she’ll be pissed if you leave.”

Lux wouldn’t be in the position if she had never befriended Jack in the first place. Or as she usually referred to it, Jack begrudgingly endeared himself to her.

It had started in middle school, when Jack had chosen drama class as his art elective and of course Lux had gotten assigned as his scene partner for the semester. It was the classic partnering of the ‘class disruption’ with the ‘class delight’ in hopes they’d balance each other out.

Jack was loud and brash and loved to rile up Lux, making fun of the way her cheeks would burn red in exasperation. Lux was the quiet girl in class, but one on one she could hold her own with an acid tongue that could easily rattle Jack’s demeanor. Their teacher thought she couldn’t have made a better pair.

The first time Lux went to Hughes’ house to practice lines, she fell in love.

Quinn was only a couple years older but with her tween brain rotting with hormones; Lux thought she was seeing a man for the first time, when she was always surrounded by mere boys.

Lux decided being Jack’s friend was something she needed in her life, if only for the proximity to her new crush. And when Ellen learned Lux was good in science, she recruited her to tutor Jack and the girl became ingrained in the family’s life.

For Lux and Jack their friendship grew to be a nice escape from usual social circles; a comfortable space where there were no expectations to act or talk or think a certain way.

And Lux got the extra benefit of secretly glancing at Quinn. Sure, her mouth turned to sand when he would merely say hi, or her face cherry red when she had even the slightest physical contact with him. Even if was just ruffling her hair in an older brother sort of way. But it all felt worth it for those miniscule interactions.

It was the one thing Jack never made fun of her for, maybe he thought it would fade away over time, like all of his crushes. But it never fully disappeared, even when she dated boys in her own grade, her heart held a special place for Quinn.

And against the odds something happened.

Lux went to Michigan for a college visit and Quinn offered to show her around a little.

“I can even give you a non-parent approved tour,” he had joked.

It was the first time they had spent any time alone, and something just clicked. They laughed at the same jokes, especially at Jack’s expense, talked about their futures even when Quinn’s was clearly more set in stone than Lux’s. By the end of the visit, they didn’t want to stop talking. So, they didn’t.

Texting went from occasionally, to daily. Texting turned to phone calls. Phone calls turned into visits to Quinn’s dorm to hang out and help him study.

Neither made a move for a long time. Lux, because she was worried that she might be reading too much into it. Quinn because she was still in high school and one of Jack’s friends.

Nothing happened until Jack’s graduation party. Jack was preoccupied with his other friends from hockey as they talked about the upcoming draft. And Lux was about to duck out to go to another friend’s party after she finished a piece of cake.

“Congrats valedictorian,” Quinn says, of course, while Lux has a mouthful of cake.

“Congrats on dropping out of college,” she laughs, hoping her wit covers up her nerves.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, I spend too much time with Jack and that means keeping his ego in check.”

“The world thanks you for that,” they both laugh.

There’s a long silence, Lux fills it with finishing her cake before she gathers some courage.

“I was going to head out to another party, want to come with?”

They never made it to the party; they ended up pulling into a parking lot and making out. It was a start of a summer romance, something to enjoy before Quinn went to Vancouver and Lux to Northwestern. It was a bonus making Jack constantly annoyed by their PDA.

The summer ended and they didn’t, a long distant relationship tided over by games in Chicago, spring breaks, and summers off.

Things were great. And then they weren’t. And then they were over.

It’s been months since the breakup, but the wound is still fresh for Lux. Her grades started slipping in the last semester, she began losing weight in the bad kind of way, she stopped going out with her friends as much.

Lux wishes she was doing better. Not to show Quinn, who already had a new girlfriend, up.  Rather, to prove to him (or maybe herself) that her world didn’t end when he ended things. Most days it felt like it had.

She checks her rearview mirror for the thousandth time to make sure she looks well-rested and her eyes aren’t puffy and red from crying on the way over.

“You can do this, there will be other people and you don’t have to talk to him more than hello,” she gives herself a pep talk.

After another deep breath she gets out of her car, grabbing her overnight bag because deep down she knows she’ll end up staying.

She lets herself into the house like normal, and is surprised by how quiet it is. She walks further into the house and finds Ellen in the kitchen chopping fruit.

“Lux, it’s so good to see you!” She puts down the knife and engulfs the girl in hug, “I’m glad someone’s here to help keep them out of trouble.”

Lux follows her eyes to where a group of man-children are outside.

“That’s a lot to ask of one person,” she chuckles before meandering around the kitchen island to avoid going outside, “do you need any help?”

Ellen’s eyes soften giving Lux a sad smile before pulling her into another hug.

“I know it’s hard sweetie, but it’s going to be okay,” she squeezes her once more, “and there’s some veggies you can cut.”

Lux can’t help but notice how at home she feels here, she knows where everything is like it’s her own place, which last summer it sort of had been. She had helped the boys move in and decorate and organize.

“How’s school? Your mom tells me you’re taking the MCATs next?”

“I’m taking them, but I don’t know if I want medical school or grad school or what,” she doesn’t mention that her breakup with Quinn has her second guessing every life choice.

 “My dad thinks I should take a year off to figure it out."

"That’s not a terrible idea, you work too hard.”

“Luxy!”

“Lukey!” She laughs at the lanky teen and pulls him into a hug, “Do they feed not feed you at college? You’re all bones.”

She thinks she hears Luke mumble under his breath, “I could say the same about you,” but Ellen speaks up before she can dwell.

“He’s like a bottomless pit, we’re banishing him to Jack and Quinn’s cause he’s eating us out of house and home,” Ellen laughs from the counter.

“Good call, they got that NHL money now.”

“Why didn’t you come out and say hi?” Jack calls out when he and the boys start entering the house.

“Because I’m a polite house guest and I'm helping your mom with food,” she stabs the knife in the air to make her point.

Jack comes over and gives her a hug and a spin.

“Glad you actually came,” he whispers as he sets her down.

Some of the other boys from the National program come and give her hugs, they were never close friends but friends by proximity.

The back door opens again and Quinn comes in, hair wet from the lake and leading an equally wet girl by the waist. She knew she would see them but it doesn’t stop her heart from deflating a bit.

Lux can already picture how Quinn picked her up and jumped in the lake with her, then kissing her when they resurfaced until she wasn't mad anymore. Maybe they'd gotten more handsy under the water, until one of the guys called them out and they separated a little flustered but not enough to completely detach.

Lux knows from experience.

She feels a pinch on her side removing her from conjuring her own nightmares, “Lux, I said why didn’t I see you at my last game in Chicago?”

She looks over and blushes, embarrassed she’s been caught, she tries to pull it together before she gets any sad eyes. She’s sick of the pity everyone has been giving her.

“I had finals Z,” she rolls her eyes at Trevor.

Lux knows Z only invites her with hopes she’ll bring a cute friend with her.

“And this goes for all of you stop giving me tickets to Chicago games, I don’t care about hockey or you guys enough to go every time. I barely want to go see Jack and he only plays the Hawks like twice a year.”

She tries to ignore the fact that Quinn is standing by the island now, wrapping a towel around the new girl's shoulders while looking towards Lux.

“What about me? We went to prom together!” Cole says with fake offense.

“You only asked me because I make you look tall!”

She hates how comfortable she feels, laughing with the boys and making fun of them. Then she makes the mistake of making eye contact with Quinn’s new girl.

“Hi we haven’t met, I’m Samantha. I’m Quinn’s girlfriend,” she gives a shy wave.

To everyone’s credit they act remarkably chill about the moment, pretending there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’m Lux.”

“Oh, you’re Jack’s girlfriend, he won’t shut up about you,” she smiles brightly.

Lux and Jack can’t help but let out loud, awkward laughs at the same time. Nothing has ever sounded more ridiculous.

“Jack and Lux no way,” Trevor starts to open his big mouth, “it’s Lux and–“

Lux elbows him in the ribs.

“It’s Lux and me all the way,” he puts an arm around her shoulder, “Or at least it will be when she moves to LA.”

“LA?” Quinn speaks up for the first time.

“I looked at some schools down there, it’s a maybe.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal but feels a little smug that Quinn is so curious.

“I’m still lobbying for Princeton or Columbia,” Jack says.

“Just what Lux needs, you within driving distance all year round,” Ellen chides her middle son, “Quinn why don’t you start grilling the hamburgers.”

Quinn and Ellen head outside carrying some food supplies. Samantha thinks about staying for a second but everyone else must have a weird fake smile like Lux, because she mirrors the smile before following her boyfriend outside.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Lux pinches Trevor on the shoulder where she can tell a sunburn is coming in.

“Ow fuck!”

“What the hell was that?”

“I wanted to help out, make Quinny jealous,” Lux furrows her brows at him, “It was working for a bit.”

“Did I ask for your help?”

“No, but you looked like you could use a win,” he shrugs.

She looks around at the other guys, they aren’t really making eye contact. She realizes she doesn’t just feel like a pathetic loser, she must look like one too.

She picks up the vegetables she sliced and carries them outside, determined to show them that she’s not broken. Even if that’s not true.

People start trickling in and it starts to become a real party. She mingles with some girls she’s met in previous summers who live in cabins nearby. She even talks to Samantha when she looks a little lost as people start interrogating Quinn about hockey.

In another life Lux and Samantha would be great friends. Lux hates her a little for that. And she drinks a little too much in response.

A haze fills her peripherals, she’s wobbly on her feet but not quite to the level of falling over or getting sick.

“Quinny!” Lux and Samantha say in the same tone when he comes by with a cup of water handing it over to his girlfriend like he used to do for Lux.

“Why didn’t you tell me how great Lux was?” Samantha says a bit too loud and too fast, “I would have made my plans to overlap with her more.”

Quinn awkwardly laughs and raises an eyebrow to Lux.

“What can I say? I’m very lovable. You know that Q,” she feels herself try to wink, but it’s not quite right.

“Luxy come be my pong partner, I need someone to drink for me,” Luke helps the girl out of the chair, he’s not allowed to heavily drink while his parents are around.

“I don’t think she needs to drink more,” Quinn warns.

“That’s none of your business anymore Quinn,” Lux says with a sharper tone than she realizes she’s capable of.

Luke is extra good at pong because he’s practically sober, while their opponents are on par with Lux. Which means there’s not much drinking to be done on Lux’s part. She can feel herself sobering up and she hates it. She hates it even more when she sees Quinn and Samantha making out by the fire pit.

“I don’t feel well,” she mumbles but Luke hears her.

“Want me to take you home?”

She looks over to see Jack didn’t hold up his end of the bargain and is too drunk to drive her home. She’s probably good to drive herself but she thinks she might drive herself into the lake on purpose.

“Um– no. I drove so it will be a whole thing with my car. I’m– I’ll just– I’ll find somewhere to lie down.”

“You can sleep in my room if you want.”

She’s silent for too long thinking about what to do, she should just go home. Ask Ellen for a ride. Anything to get away from here. She could just sleep in her car.

Instead of doing anything she pulls Luke into a hug, he wraps his arms around her. It’s like he’s holding her together.

“Whoa, are you trying to collect Hughes brothers?” Jack says loudly from across the lawn, he’s too drunk to realize it’s not exactly a funny joke.

Everyone knows what he means, Lux whips her head towards Quinn and Samantha.  She looks thoroughly clueless, but Quinn is fuming.

Lux runs into the house, she doesn’t care if she cockblocks Jack or makes him sleep on the couch, she takes his room and buries herself under the covers and sobs.

She didn’t prove to anyone that she’s doing well.

The next morning her head hurts and she can’t tell if it’s from drinking or crying too much. Jack is snoring in a makeshift bed he made on the floor, she thinks about kicking him in the ribs on her way out.

No one is up when she makes her getaway.

The next time she goes to the lake house is by accident.

She’s out with some friends from high school who go to Michigan. They start out with brunch and it spirals out of control from there.

They’re out getting pizza, all on wobbly, baby deer legs, and deciding where to go next when her friend Kylie’s fiancé comes to pick her up.

“Refueling for round two?” He laughs at the group and tries to gather Kylie.

“More like round three,” Kylie giggles and tries to plant a kiss and misses leaving a sloppy, wet kiss on his neck.

Lux and her other friends ‘aww’ at that even though it’s definitely not cute and more embarrassing.

“And you’re you sure you guys want to continue on?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Lux gives him a thumbs up.

She isn’t entirely wrong, they make it to the next bar with little issue, though maybe the bartender shouldn’t serve them at this point.

They’re talking about planning Kylie’s bachelorette party in the way drunk girls do, too elaborate to actually be executed.

The conversation switches to their current love lives, which is not exactly the topic Lux wants to broach. At least when it comes to herself. She tries to keep the spotlight off her and that works for the most part, it’s nice to hear about her friends falling in love and their bad hookups.

“What the fuck Lux? I’ve been waiting outside for 10 minutes.”

Jack is standing over the table trying his best to look mad, but having a hard time with the four girls staring up at him in a drunken stupor.

“This a is girls’ night, you’re not invited!” Lux slurs and takes a sip through her straw, going back to her friends.

“You texted me an SOS,” he thinks for a second, “or it seemed like it cause you texted me gibberish followed by your location pin, so I thought you needed rescuing.”

“Well, you can see I’m fine so see you later,” she waves him off and her friends laugh.

“Not happening, I haven’t seen you in weeks and I drove all the way here, you’re coming with me.”

He leans forward to grab her arm only to be assaulted by a chorus of ‘nos,’ so he backs off for a bit, reaching for his wallet and taking out a few bills.

“Next round is on me.”

“She’s all yours Jacky boy,” her friend Ashley winks and grabs the cash.

“Traitor,” Lux sticks out her tongue as Jack helps her out of the booth.

“If a Hughes is gonna take you home, we’re glad it’s him,” Ashley makes a stern face, “tell Q he sucks for us.”

“Quinn doesn’t suck,” Lux says protectively, like he’s hers to protect.

“I’ll happily tell him Ash,” Jack cuts in before anyone picks at that scab anymore, “C’mon Luxy I’ll buy you some pizza.”

She reluctantly goes, blowing kisses to her friends. Jack helps her get into the car and she splays out in her seat.

And that’s how she accidentally ends up at the lake house.

“This isn’t my house?” She mumbles through a mouthful of pizza that she snuck during the drive.

“Obviously, if I have to kidnap you to hang out,so be it.”

Lux rolls her eyes, she’s too hungry and getting too sleepy to argue so she just gets out of the car, carefully because she can’t lose any precious pizza.

“Pizza delivery!” Lux yells out and makes a beeline to the fridge taking out a drink.

“Should you really be drinking more?”

“My knight and shining armor brought me to safety,” she ungracefully rubs a hand across Jack’s face, “so I might as well stay this drunk until I fall asleep.”

Jack jokingly puts a hand on her face and grabs the drink out of her hand, “then let me catch up with you a bit first.”

That’s when Quinn and Luke come into the kitchen, with Jack and Lux awkwardly holding each other’s faces.

“Girls’ night?” Quinn smirks, having been on the other side of that hand many times.

“Oh, I thought Lux was settling for the worst Hughes brother,” Luke laughs and Quinn kicks his shin.

“Lux would be so lucky,” Jack grabs a piece of pizza.

“And there would be a murder-suicide,” Quinn rolls his eyes.

If Lux was sober, she would be able to appreciate the normalcy of this moment.

“Lux can hear you and Lux,” she forgets her point for a moment, ”Lux is drunk and over Hughes brothers. Do the Tkachuks need a new friend? They even have a sister it’d be a better fit.”

“I can put a good word in for you with Brady,” Quinn snickers at the drunken rambling.

Lux grins at him and even through her drunken haze her heart does a little flip, this is what it feels like to be with her Quinn.

“Let’s get you to bed before you really embarrass yourself.”

Jack hooks an arm around her shoulder. Lux is smart enough to know what he’s implying, that’s not her Quinn anymore and she’s inebriated enough to say something she regrets. Jack won’t let that happen on his watch.

“There’s even a guest room with your name on it.”

Jack gives her some clothes to wear and tucks her into her bed.

“I know I’m your favorite Hughes,” he kisses her forehead.

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone, it’s really embarrassing.”

Lux wakes up an hour later desperately needing to pee, she scrambles out of bed only to realize she’s still heavily under the influence. She tries to wanders the hallway in the dark, pretty sure she’s familiar enough with the layout to find her way.

She’s wrong.

Opening a door she walks into Quinn’s room, who’s just walking out of his ensuite bathroom toweling his hair, naked.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” she slaps a hand over her eyes, “I was looking for the bathroom and this is the one I’ve used the most.”

He lightly chuckles, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“That’s true,” she opens a crack between her fingers and peeks through.

“That wasn’t an invitation to look Lux,” he tinges pink before thumbing towards the open door, “bathroom’s free.”

“Oh right, I’ll be a second then out of your hair.”

When she comes back out, Quinn is sitting on his bed, the side that used to be hers. She can feel hot tears boiling in her eyes and tries to make a quick exit.

She trips over nothing, her faculties still not her own, and finds herself flopping her legs out and leaning against his dresser. Admitting defeat and letting herself cry.

“You okay?” Quinn gets up and takes a seat on the floor next to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“For falling down?”

“No for us. I’m sorry I cut you out and didn’t tell you how I felt and was just a shitty girlfriend.”

“You weren’t a shitty girlfriend.”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, Lux flinches at the contact before relaxing into the familiar warmth.

“I didn’t know what I wanted and I let get in the way of a good thing,” she kicks her legs like a kid having a tantrum.

“You’re 21, unlike the weirdo Hughes brothers it’s pretty normal to not know what you want Lux.”

He gives her a little squeeze, “I also think us not being in the same city or even country for almost our whole relationship didn’t really help either.”

They sit in silence after that, they’ve always been good at reveling in a quiet moment.

But his hand is so warm on her arm and Lux can’t revel, she can’t hope, she can’t pretend that there’s more to this than just Quinn being nice. And that means fighting her drunken thoughts that are telling her to kiss him or tell him she loves him.

“Samantha seems nice.”

“Yeah?” He looks towards her, trying to hold back a smile as they make eye contact for the first time.

“And it’s nice to see you so happy, I like happy Quinn.”

“I like happy Lux; I have a feeling she hasn’t been around much.”

“No,” she squeaks out, trying to keep the dam of tears together, it doesn’t work for long.

“I’m not dealing with the breakup as well as you.”

“It’s okay,” he pulls her into his chest and lets her cry.

“I’m dealing with it a lot better than I thought I would, and I’m the one who broke up with you,” his voice sounds pinched but Lux doesn’t dare look, “and you’re gonna be okay, I’m not that great.”

Lux gives him a little slap at that comment.

“When you do finally figure out what you want, there’s going to be no stopping you.”

Lux pulls back and kisses the corner of his mouth. There’s no romance in it; it’s a goodbye to what they were.

“I wish we could have worked out, but I guess I’m dodging a bullet by not becoming a Hughes,” she lets out a laugh.

“There’s the Lux, I know,” they’re both grinning like idiots.

He gives her hand one last squeeze as she leaves, hands slowly parting until they’re too far away to touch. It doesn’t fix everything, her heart isn’t completely welded back together, but it’s a start.

[mozukumi]

it's a wummer wum-derland

Phineas is going through a bout of seasonal depression. His friends are there to help him out.

1K words. Read on AO3 or under the readmore. Comments much appreciated!

Phineas doesn’t know when this winter got so bad for him.

It wasn’t a problem when he was younger. He had always preferred the summer, but he didn’t hate winter or anything. He would still make the most of every single possible day.

Last year, though, things started to change. He doesn’t remember when it started then, either, but he began to feel a lot more lethargic and depressed during that winter. He didn’t think much of it, though. He was in his first year of high school - it was only natural for him to have been a bit moody, wasn’t it?

He didn’t think it was going to happen again this winter. It started out great, after all! He began December by celebrating Hanukkah with the Garcia-Shapiro family, which he greatly enjoyed. Next were his final exams for the semester, which… yeah, those weren’t fun, but it was a necessary evil. That finally led to the roughly 14 days of winter vacation which fell between Christmas and New Year’s – each of which were the best day ever.

The change had to have happened sometime in January, then. That’s the logical explanation. But he can’t remember when it started; maybe this wasn’t the sort of thing which started, instead being a gradual decline.

He supposes it doesn’t really matter how he got here, exactly. What does matter is this: it’s a Saturday morning in February and he doesn’t want to do anything.

He can barely believe himself. The whole day is ahead of him, just waiting to be seized! Yet he’s still wasting away in his bed. And that sort of thing is fine every once-in-a-while (the do-nothing day is a yearly tradition he quite enjoys). But it’s not like he’s choosing to relax and take it slow. He desperately wants to carpe his diem.

But he just can’t do it.

He’s snapped out of his wallowing by a knock at the door. It’s Ferb, peeking his head in. An is eyebrow raised and a question is implied: what are we gonna do today?

“Sorry, Ferb, I’m - I’m not really feeling up to anything today,” he admits. And he hates himself for it, because he really should just push through this. All of his friends were available to hang out today - and with their busy high school schedules, that was getting so much rarer. He wishes he could take advantage of it.

Ferb nods, then walks over to his bedside. He tilts his head ever-so-slightly, and if Phineas is reading his body language correctly…

“You’re right, it has been a rough couple of weeks for me,” he says. “Not like anything happened, it’s just, ah…”

“You’ve got a case of the winter blues?” Ferb suggests.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right,” Phineas says. “I don’t want to keep you - say hi to the gang for me, okay?”

Ferb gives him a thumbs up, although Phineas didn’t need any confirmation from his brother. A reminder that he could count on Ferb was like a reminder that water was wet: completely unnecessary.

-

A couple of hours later, his phone began to ring. It was one of his customized ringtones – a 8-bit version of Gitchee Gitchee Goo – which meant the caller was…

“Isabella,” he says, hoping he didn’t sound too groggy. He had just woken up from his nap minutes earlier. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good! But I was really calling to ask about you. Are you feeling well enough to come down to the backyard for a few minutes?”

He thought about it. He was feeling a little bit better. Not enough to participate in a Big Idea, but well enough that he could come say hi and see what his friends were working on. “Yes, yes I am. I’ll get changed into my snowgear-”

“No need,” she interrupts, her tone a bit forced. “It’s… it’ll be fine! You don’t need to get out of your pajamas. Just come on down.”

“If you insist,” he says. He’s sure it’ll make sense soon. “I’ll be there soon.”

With that, he hangs up his phone and makes his way downstairs. It isn’t a long trek, but it’s just enough time to make him consider what the gang is up to. It can’t be anything open to the general public, since they told him not to bother changing. So it had to be a more personal project.

By the time he reaches that conclusion, he’s already at the front door. He steps out into the backyard, and -

It’s warm and it’s sunny.

That’s the first thing he notices. After all these months of overcast weather, the feeling of heat on his skin was almost alien. There was still snow on the ground, but it didn’t freeze his bare feet. Instead, it was just pleasantly cold. All around him, his friends begin to sing a familiar tune:

It’s a Wummer Wum-derland Unusual and grand Yeah, it’s anything but bland Because it’s Wummer (Bum bum, bum bum) Talkin’ ‘bout Wummer (Bum bum, bum bum) It’s so Wummer (Bum bum, bum bum)

Their cheer is infectious, and pretty soon Phineas is grinning from cheek to cheek. His eyes begin to water. “You guys, this is so… you’re the best friends ever, you know that?”

“Yeah, I am pretty aweso-”

“Do not ruin this moment, Buford,” Baljeet says under his breath, but Phineas can still very clearly hear him. Did he think he was being discreet…? Well, he’s not going to point that out.

“You always do all this amazing stuff for us, Phineas,” Isabella says, her voice soft. “Like, it’s pretty ridiculous how much you do. And I love- I mean, we love all that you do for us. But we want to take care of you too sometimes.”

“Since light therapy is an effective treatment for Seasonal Affective Disorder, Buford proposed that we rework a classic idea in order to cheer you up,” Baljeet says.

“Wait, Buford?

“Hey, I was at S’Winter! It was a non-speaking cameo, but I was still there!”

Phineas decides to not ask any clarifying questions - Buford said stuff like that all the time. Better to let it pass.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s really not enough. The two words are hardly enough to express his gratitude at the gesture. But for now, it’ll have to do.

[miss-tc-nova]

Wonderful Mess - Trey Clover x Reader

Another one of those "I found this song. I obsessed over song. I wrote with song on replay for hours." Which usually turn out to be some of my best work. Well, the start of this is a bit rough, but I do like where it goes. Enjoy!

Premise: Trey asks for help with baking, but slips up

Words: 1,655

Music Inspirations: Unlonely - Jason Mraz

~~~~~

               Plopping onto the cafeteria bench, I sigh. All will to exist drains from me, taking my head to the table with it.

               “I take it your test didn’t go that well?”

               Head rolling, I peek up to see a familiar green-haired young man taking a seat beside me.

               “Oh I totally failed,” I huff.

               A reassuring pat meets my back. “You sure? You might surprise yourself.”

               “I studied chapters eight and nine.”

               “Yeah. We went over them together. You were pretty confident.”

               “The test was on chapters six and seven.”

               “Oh…”

               There’s a beat of silence.

               “Well at least you’ll be prepared for the test on chapters eight and nine.” He’s trying so hard to be the optimist.

               “That doesn’t stop me from failing this test, Trey,” I growl.

               “I’m sure it’s not that bad. And you know Professor Crewel has that extra credit assignment every semester. You can still pass.”

               “I guess, but does it even matter?”

               “Hey now, there’s no need to be existential. Everything’s gonna be fine,” Trey says, standing up. “Why don’t you come back to Heartslabyul and help me work on the pastries for tomorrow’s unbirthday party.”

               Dragging my face off the table, I look to the junior, trailing his arm to land on an offered palm.

               “Only if you want to.”

               I don’t really need to think to answer that question. There’s no doubt I’m going to accept his offer, if only for my own sanity. Trey has this knack of making things feel alright, even if they’re not. He’s the safe space of Night Raven College and I could use a little peace right now.

               “Not like I have anything better to do.”

               My palm plops into his, yet far gentler does he take hold. Careful and steady, he guides me to my feet—the ease with which he does so sends a flock of goosebumps across my shoulders.

               “Great.”

               To the Hall of Mirrors and straight through to Heartslabyul does Trey lead, telling me all about the pastry he intends to make—with my assistance of course. A handful of terms he uses go right over my head, but he seems excited and I can’t fault him for that. In fact, he doesn’t really stop chattering until we get into the kitchen and he plops a paper onto the counter.

               A finger trails the ingredient list.

               “Okay, will you get the cold ingredients from the fridge while I grab the rest?”

               “Um, okay. Is this going to be enough for everyone at the party?” I ask.

               He hesitates. “Oh, no. We should at least triple it, so grab three of everything.”

               My head shakes, even so a simper tugs my lips. “Yes sir.”

               Trey steps away, leaving me to the task of math before I endeavor to collect food stuffs from the fridge. Triple the ingredients is actually quite a lot; next thing I know, I’ve got an armful of milk, butter, a couple different fruits, cream, and eggs. It’s just on the verge of considering two trips, but as the door closes and I turn away, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it.

               Towards the work station I take a single step. Just as I do, the eggs atop the pile wobble. Every muscle freezes until the poultry orbs cease their wiggling. This process repeats itself, making my trip to the counter painfully slow. The entire ordeal turns out be nigh fruitless when—not two steps away—one of the eggs finally bails.

               “Oh shi-!”

               Crack.

               Shoulders slump as I set aside the rest of the pile. “Ugh.”

               Of course this is when my supervisor reappears with a large silver bowl in hand.

               “You okay?”

               “Yeah,” I sigh, reaching for a hand towel. “Just dropping things. Careful not to—”

               “Woah!”

               Too late.

               Suddenly, Trey disappears in an eruption of white.

               As the dust literally settles, I can only stare, mouth agape. It all happened so fast I had no time to react. Sitting up, he looks akin to the Ramshackle ghosts, his entire front completely coated like a freshly powdered beignet. Not even his glasses were spared the onslaught, now windows of white rather than any sort of useful viewing glass. Only when he hacks up puffs of ivory and the flour in his glasses dislodges do I finally break.

               “Thanks for the concern,” he grumbles, slipping the dusty lens from his face.

               “I’m sorry,” I manage to say between laughs. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

               The clean towel in hand has a new purpose as I take his glasses to wipe down.

               “I hit my elbows but, other than that, I think I’m fine. The worst is probably all this wasted flour.”

               My lips clamp shut, trying not to let the giggling slip, but a snicker still manages to sneak out. Dead pan, he stares at me with a brow quirked, a slight squint to his eyes.

               “Really?”

               “I’m sorry!” I crack. “You look like a Ramshackle ghost!”

               His eyes roll and I pass back the eyewear. Meanwhile, I’m done. He looks ridiculous and though my sides are beginning to ache, I cannot stop laughing.

               “Hey.”

               Wiping a tear from my eye, I look, only to be immediately assaulted with a face full of powder. It’s my turn to cough up clouds, but fire surges to my ears at the sound of laughter.

               “Did you just…”

               Palms expose in a harmless farce. Trey replies, “In my defense, you caused this mess.”

               Fingers dig into a stray pile of flour to fling in his direction, however this time, Trey doesn’t take the onslaught lying down. Within seconds, flour floats through the room, disturbed by vengeful silliness. Yet even amidst war, the sound of fun fills the air.

               Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in months. Being thrust into an entirely new world has definitely brought both its ups and downs, but there has been no moment like this where I felt whole. There’s no worry, no stress, my chest is light and full, and there’s no wiping the smile from my face. I needed this moment and it’s all thanks to Trey.

               My enemy covers his head, leaning back. “Okay! I give! I give up!”

               What flour remains in hand I flick at his chest. “You shouldn’t start wars you can’t win.”

               “Did I lose?” A sneaky smirk stokes the coals beneath my skin. “Or are you just as messy as I am?”

               He’s got me. It’s all over my clothes, in my hair, smeared across my face. There’s no difference between my appearance and his and now we’re both powdered disasters.

               The glower I put on falters in the face of his grin. More laughter floats between us, softening to a comfortable solace until it’s just us, staring back at each other, smiles slipping away.

               Before I realize it, Trey’s face is so close I feel his breath ghost my skin. Not a single thought passes through my brain as my chin tips in anticipation. The pounding of my heart thrums in my ears, those coals threatening to ignite. Air catches in my lungs and though the suspension might just kill me, my eyes flutter shut.

               He’s so damn sweet. Cautious, careful, he barely moves initially, likely assessing my reaction. I, on the other hand, lean so hard into this moment I might as well be floating on cloud nine. That bliss guides my movement, demanding more from the Heartslabyul vice housewarden, who complies with no complaint. If I thought I felt whole before, I’m fit to burst from the euphoria of this moment. Things may have been okay since I arrived, but this feels right, maybe even more than anything before I got here. He made me feel comfortable, even in the insanity that seemed to follow me around. He was the rationale that kept me from going insane on the worst days and the encouragement I needed to face every challenge that came. Trey and I have always gotten along, but somewhere along the way that changed and now I can’t even imagine anything different than this infatuation that has me on the verge of shoving him to the floor. And I know he’d let me.

               His shirt is snagged by my fist. However, before I can act on any urges, Trey drops the kiss. Breathless gasps seize the moment though neither of us back away.

               The corner of his lips quirk in the slightest. I’m almost certain there’s a pink tint hiding beneath the cover of all that flour.

               “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

               “Oh yeah?” I chuckle. “What took you so long?”

               His head shakes while shoulders shrug. “Guess things were going so great I just kept getting caught up in the moment.”

               Hopefully my flour camouflage is just as strong, fire creeping across my nose.

               “Well don’t wait so long next time.”

               “I have no say in the matter.” His nose brushes mine cheekily. “Sometimes you’re so cute that I get lost staring.”

               Okay, yeah, I’m burning alive on the inside.

               “Only sometimes?” I retort, trying to cover the mush he’s turning me into.

               “Yep, other times I’m busy cleaning up your mess.” A flick of his fingers creates a little flurry of flour.

               “It’s not my fault you didn’t listen to my warning.”

               “Slips like that are how you get lawsuits.”

               “I was literally in the middle of cleaning it up!”

               “Well we’ve definitely got a mess to clean now.” Getting to his feet—dropping flour with every move—Trey helps me up and surveys our predicament. “Riddle’s gonna have our heads for this mess.”

               “Only if he finds out it was us,” I hum, not entirely sure where to even start.

               As if summoned by our misdeed, a shout comes from the kitchen entrance.

               “What in the world happened here?!”

               I jerk Trey’s sleeve. “He found out!”

               “Ho boy…”

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[everybodyshusband]

🛏️ 🦷 for the ask game

Happy new year Felix :)

happy new year moth :)) <33

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

honestly i'd love love loooooove to try and write a proper fluffy, mushy, silly meet-cute...

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

not for any specific reason but the next chapter of uni ghouls has been kicking my entire ass for months and months because it doesn't want to be written no matter how hard i try lol i've got a snippet i can share though, so for those who want to read a bit of it (900-ish words), it's under the cut !! :) and not at all edited lol please be nice

As he reads through the overview section of the first chapter, Aeon notes that it’s nothing too difficult for the most part—not yet at least. There are some harder biological topics in this chapter specifically, but it all looks manageable enough so far. And if it’s not, then maybe Aeon can ask Aurora while they figure out the note-taking capabilities of his well-loved tablet; she’s always had more of a head for science and maths than him, ever since they were children.

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by Swiss coming over to place his drink and muffin down in front of him. “Hitting the books early, huh?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he smiles, and with a deep breath that his head tells him is unnecessary, he tries for a joke. “Just lightly though, wouldn’t wanna scare away your customers with my powerful displays of intense masculinity…” He laughs awkwardly as he finishes speaking, hoping that Swiss understands his attempt at humour.

It takes a while, but soon enough, recognition lights up in Swiss’ eyes and his mouth splits into a grin that he so desperately tries to fight in an effort to carry on the joke. “This cafe welcomes people from all walks of life,” he chuckles. “You feel free to hit those books as hard as you want. They deserve it for what they’re about to put you through…”

“Oh no,” Aeon groans. “That bad?”

“I can’t speak from personal experience, but yeah. Dewy was whining about that General Sciences textbook all through the first semester last year.”

Dewy… “Dewdrop took General Sciences last year?”

Swiss nods. “Uh huh. All you science-y people have to, no matter what degree you’re doing. I’m studying music, I have no idea how you folk manage to do all that. Over half of my grade is performance based, I don’t do shit. It’s fantastic.”

Aeon sighs dramatically, heaving his shoulders. “Fuck, maybe I should switch degrees,” he jokes. “Screw my ten-year plan, I wanna study music with you if it gets me out of textbooks and exams.”

Swiss tilts his head, a curious glint in his eyes. “You play?”

“Barely,” Aeon snorts. “I picked up guitar a couple years ago, but I’m not very good.” He purposefully neglects to mention that the only reason he plays guitar even a little bit is because his therapist from high school encouraged him to pick up a casual hobby to keep himself entertained and his hands busy whenever his mind starts racing.

“Hey, that’s fine,” Swiss reassures him. “You’ve still got plenty of time to learn! And hey, if you ever want a teacher…” He trails off, wiggling his eyebrows at Aeon and not so subtly pointing to himself, “then let me know. If I like you, I won’t even charge you.” He cements his joke with a wink and Aeon tries his best not to blush. He’s not sure he’s very successful in his attempts.

“Anyway,” Swiss continues, clearly remembering he’s at work and should be helping his coworkers and actually doing his job. This theory of Aeon’s is proven correct when he glances over to the coffee machine and spots Rain glaring at Swiss from behind the register, holding up a pile of order tickets that they need Swiss’ help with. Aeon pointedly does not think about the stormy expression on Rain’s face, nor about what he would do if it were trained on him instead. Luckily for the sake of Aeon’s dignity and his clean pair of shorts, the barista’s smile immediately brightens as they spot him. He tries not to make a big deal of it as they place the pile of dockets back onto the counter to wave at him with both hands, another thing he fails spectacularly at—how could he not, when Rain looks like he’s made their day just by showing up? Aeon wonders if that’s what Rain looks like when they smile at Dewdrop… Fuck, he needs to stop.

“Earth to newbie,” Swiss calls, carefully waving his hand in front of Aeon’s face, effectively blocking his view of Rain. Aeon does his best not to pout. “Down bad, huh? Don’t worry, we all are,” he whispers, smirking. He raises his voice back up to a normal volume when he speaks again. “I hope your hot chocolate hasn’t gone cold from how long I’ve kept you from it. Let me know if it has and I’ll make you another one,” he smiles warmly.

Aeon nods and manages to murmur his thanks just before Swiss continues speaking.

“Maybe after I help Rain with that mountain of orders though. I don’t even wanna think about where my body would be found if I didn’t help them… But if I do remake it for you, I won’t be giving you extra marshmallows like Rainy did, okay? You’re lovely, but I’m not as obsessed with you as they are,” he winks yet again.

As he pretends that his whole worldview hasn’t been shattered by the notion that Rain might like him back, Aeon can’t resist the opportunity to tease. “As obsessed?” He smirks as Swiss splutters in mock outrage, the man’s faux annoyance melting into laughter as he begins to slowly walk away from Aeon’s table.

“Alright, alright. Enjoy your drink, newbie!” Aeon just about hears Rain’s “his name is Aeon” over the whirr of the coffee machine and blushes into his hot chocolate as he takes a sip. Despite his chat with Swiss, his drink has miraculously stayed relatively warm and it’s just as delicious as when Rain had made it the other day.

[awkward-tension-art]

Remain By His Side Chp.7 Taxi

Chap.6 (Smut) Chapter.7

Leon's week to spend back home was over, and now you waited for the taxi with him.

Heyo! this one is shorter. my motivation for writing has been shot b/c of my allergies lol

Warnings: More slow burn, leon needs a hug, he and reader are both kinda sad, brief mention of sibling death, Leon ignoring his feelings

“When will you come back?” You asked him, looking into his eyes. Leon was leaving back to military training, and a taxi was already called.

He’s been…quiet towards you. Ever since he told you about Raccoon City in detail. Ever since that night, he hasn’t looked you in the eye. 

“I…don’t know.” He mumbled, “But I’ll come back. Unless you move. Or kick me out.” 

You snorted, “That's not going to happen, I like our apartment.” It was a good location. You were close enough to your medical school you could practically walk there. Once the semester begins in a couple months, you’d be grateful for the short commute, “Besides, even if I got a new place, I’d send you a key.” 

Leon’s grin seemed…empty, hollow, “I haven’t annoyed you yet?” 

“Not at all. Besides, you’re Mocha’s favorite person, I wouldn't kick you out.” Your teasing was lighthearted, but the smile on your lips was bittersweet, you always hated when Leon left. He’s become a part of your life you didn’t want to give up. Friend didn’t seem like a strong enough word, but you couldn’t think of any other word. 

“Oh, I see. You want me to stick around for the cat,” He gave you a tender laugh, though it didn’t meet his eyes. 

What happened? Did I do this? You thought to yourself. Maybe you forced him to open wounds he would rather forget. It's only been a few months since Raccoon City fell. Perhaps you should have waited before pressing him for details of that horrible night.

You covered your worry, “Well, she does deserve everything she wants.” 

He laughed again at your words, “Even when she wakes us up at 5am.” Leon snorted before putting a hesitant hand on your shoulder, “Take care of yourself ok?”

You felt…warm whenever he touched you. In any proximity. You felt warm, safe and cared for. In response, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, “You too. I’ll make sure to write every week.” 

He nodded as you pulled back. 

You kept your eyes on him, and your hands were on his chest. Under your palms, you felt his heartbeat. Strong, steady, but rapid. Like he was nervous. 

Leon nodded, now unable to meet your gaze. He seemed…flustered under your touch. 

Your frown wasn’t missed by him. But he didn't comment. After a moment of silence you sighed, “Did…Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes widened and he looked at you surprised, “What? No.”

Your hands stayed on him, “Ever since you told me about Raccoon City, you’ve been…acting different. I was afraid I might’ve forced you to talk about it before you were ready.”

“It’s not that.” Leon had both hands on your upper arms, “You didn’t do anything wrong. It's…it's just me. That's all.” He looked away, facing the street. As if he prayed the taxi would come sooner. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You pressed slightly, hoping he’d give in. you really didn’t like pushing Leon to do or say something he didn’t want to do. 

Lord knows his free will has been taken enough.

He shook his head, “You shouldn’t worry, everythings fine.” he lied. He was a terrible liar. Why was he lying to you?

You didn’t know what else to do except hug him. His strong arms wrapped around you in response, “Whatever is going on, I’m here for you.” reluctantly, you pulled back and looked at him. 

“Please…I…” He mumbled, looking at the ground, “Look, it's not important, ok?”

You held your tongue, debating with yourself before you said your next words, “You're important to me,” your words were honest, “and I want to make sure you’re ok…”

Leon swallowed, finally looking at you. His lips twitched slightly in a frown, before he swallowed. He spoke quietly, “I’m…just gonna miss you.” His response surprised you. You expected more from him. Still, you knew he was hiding something.

He’s usually so honest…

Your frown was obvious. But you didn’t push for more details, “I’ll miss you too.” you responded, just as the taxi was arriving. 

The two of you hugged again before he stepped away.

“I’ll see you later.” Leon smirked, but still, his blue eyes betrayed his smile. 

“See you later.” your words were not a goodbye. You’ve found out that after your brother's death, you couldn’t say ‘goodbye’. Not anymore. 

You watched the taxi drive away, out of sight. With a sigh you returned to your apartment. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about how lonely your home felt again.

[jaket-fanatic-gvf]

You Belong With Me (Part 2)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Summary: Part 2 of the duology! Read Part 1 here

Warnings: Mentions of sex, otherwise pretty fluffy

A/N: This was later than I said I'd post this (oops), but it's here now! I mildly edited this, but we're just going with it!

Word Count: 5.7k

- - -

You don’t normally dream, but when you do they are extremely vivid. Laying in bed this morning, you can picture the whole thing clearly. Sam laughing. Sam with his arms wrapped around you. Sam’s lips on yours…

Of course, none of it is real. Sam is with Madison and you’re all on your own. Sighing, you reach for your phone to read the time. 9:32 a.m. The football game isn’t until 2:00 today, so you have plenty of time before you need to be in the band hall to pick up your trumpet. 

When you get out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your roommate, Andrea, is already at the table studying with a full mug of coffee next to her. She looks up when you shuffle into the room.

“Hey, babe, the coffee just finished so it’s pipin’ hot.”

“Thanks Annie, awful early in the weekend for homework, no?” You query. 

“Ya, but I have a big test on Monday and I think tomorrow I’ll be too hungover to think properly,” she sighs.

“Going partying?”

“Uh.. ya,” Annie takes a sip of coffee, “I assumed we’d all be going out tonight. I feel like it’s kinda become a tradition.”

That was true. You, Andrea, Sam, and Daniel had been going out pretty much every Saturday this semester; sometimes joined by others, but sometimes just yourselves. Annie knew about your crush on Sam, and has tried to get you to tell Sammy; but that’s just as likely as Annie telling Danny about her crush on him. Which is to say, not likely at all.

“Okay, ya… so, um… I need to tell you about last night.”

“Oh my god!” Annie exclaimed. “You guys admitted your feelings for one another?”

“What? No,” you frowned, “obviously not. Because one, I’d die from embarrassment if he ever found out. Last night proves that. And two, he has a girlfriend, so he doesn’t have feelings for me.”

Annie gives you a skeptical look. “Danny and I don’t think they’re endgame. We want Sam to be happy, and he’s just not happy with her.”

This causes you to raises an eye brow at her. “Danny and I?” You repeat back to Annie. “We?”

“As, like, friends.” Annie tries to hide the fluster, but is extremely unsuccessful. She clears her throat before doubling back down on you. “What happened last night, Y/N? Don’t change the subject.”

“Right… so… I accidentally called Sam pretty.” You cringe as you admit this outloud to your friend. It doesn’t help when Annie throws her hands in the air and squeals.

“Yes! Finally! What happened? I need all of the details, ‘nd don’t skimp on me. Even the ones you think are insignificant!”

You fill her in on the whole night. She squeals again when you tell her that he called you pretty back, but you make sure to add on that he probably felt obligated to return the compliment. She rolls her eyes and has you continue on. Once you finish, she takes a couple seconds to get her thoughts in order.

“He really needs to break up with Madison. I just really don’t like her.”

Sighing, you can only reply, “Well thats not really up to us.”

“I wonder if he has said anything to Danny,” she ponders and starts looking for her phone. You reply quickly.

“You can’t ask him, Annie! He can’t know about how awkward last night was or he’ll never let me live it down. I think he already kind of knows about my crush on Sam.”

“Y/N,” she deadpans, “you can’t be serious.” When you only reply with a confused look she looks up to the sky almost as if she were praying to God. “I think the only person who doesn’t know about your crush on Sam,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “is Sam. Don’t make that face, Y/N, it’s fine. I think the feelings are mutual.”

“Annie, he has a–” you start, but she cuts you off.

“He has a girlfriend, I know, but like I said before, I don’t think they belong together. Things are changing, I feel it in my bones.” she states matter-of-factly.

“Whatever, I don’t think I have the mental capacity to talk about this any longer.” This back and forth reall has drained you. When you look at the time again, you notice that only about 45 minutes has passed. “I’m gonna go shower and then maybe do some studying too.” Annie waves you goodbye and on the way to your bathroom, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: Partying is a go for tonight

You: Annie is studying already so I think she’d kill me if we don’t go

Sam replies instantly.

Sammy: Great! Pregame at our house? I’ll make Dan cook us supper :)

Sammy: You can come over whenever, we’re not going to the game

You are a bit disappointed in that news. Even if you couldn’t sit together, you always sit on the edge of the band, and Sam and Danny try to sit as close to you as they can get so you can still talk to each other. 

You: Okey doke, let us know if you need anything before we come over!

Sammy: 👍

Since it’s the weekend, you take your full shower. Afterwards, you feel like a brand new person and decide to continue on with the self care. You paint your nails for the first time in months and decide that you have enough time to start a new book before you have to go. You quickly get sucked in, and when your alarm goes off signalling that it’s time to leave, you briefly debate bringing the book to the football game before you decide against it.

The game actually goes quicker than you thought it would. It’s probably good that Sam didn’t come to the game because Madison is very obviously flirting with a few members of the football team. She doesn’t even stop when she catches you watching her. She just glares at you and seems to amp it up. Honestly, the nerve of her. When the game its over, you practically sprint home. Annie left you a note on the fridge saying that she already went over to the boys’ house and to go over as soon as you’re ready.

You change out of your school shirt and jean shorts, and opt for a denim shirt, a crop top, and your tride-and-true chuck taylors. Right before leaving, you circle back to grab a sweater because it’ll probably be cold once you leave the party.

You text Sam saying that you are on your way over and in true Sam-fashion, he’s waiting for you on his front porch holding the door open for you. He’s wearing a crewneck sweatshirt from your school and short shorts. God, the short shorts. You’re staring at his thighs as you walk up to him and just hoping that he doesn’t notice. When you get closer to him, you meet his eyes, and you think he could definitely tell you were checking him out from the little smirk he wore, so you decide to play it off.

“Isn’t it a bit late in the season for hoochie mama shorts, Samuel?” you scold him without any real intent.

He throws his head back and barks out a single laugh. “Says you! It’s a cute outfit, Y/N, but it’s not going to keep you warm,” he quips back.

The outfit might not, but the blush from his compliment sure will. You try to laugh it off and reply meekly, “I brought a sweater.”

Sam laughs again. “Love, that sweater is so hole-y that’s it’s practically just a clump of yarn, it’s not gonna do shit,” he replies a bit condescendingly, “A for effort though!” Sam ushers you through the door and you can smell whatever it is is that Dan is cooking, and it smells heavenly. Down the hall, you hear Annie’s laugh and soft music playing. Even though this isn’t your house, this place truly does feel like home.

When you walk into the kitchen, there truly is a sight to behold. Annie and Dan are standing only inches away from each other and you can tell right away that they were about to kiss. You just freeze, but Sam bumps into you, and they immediately notice the movement in the corner of the room and practically leap away from one another like they both got burned. It takes everything in you to not jump for joy right there. You can’t stop the shit-eating grin that comes to your face though.

“Oh I’m sorry, we’re not interrupting, are we?” You ask sweetly…Too sweetly.

Annie looks mortified, but fixes you with a glare and replies just as sweetly, “Oh not at all! Wow, Y/N, you look very pretty.” She makes sure to emphasize the word pretty, and you can take the hint. However, she doesn’t stop there. “Doesn’t she, Sammy?”

Obviously, you start to blush, and it deepens when you look at Sam right as he squeaks out, “Yeah, she always does.” He’s looking a bit rosy now too, so now it’s just the 4 of you standing awkwardly in the kitchen, all blushing in various shades like idiots.

Daniel is the one to break the silence, forever the mediator. “So, supper is ready! Can someone grab plates?” Once the tension is broken, you all quickly set off to do different tasks. Danny and Annie bring the food to the table while you grab the plates and silverware. Sam goes off to grab drinks for everyone. The rest of the meal goes off without a hitch, and as soon as you’re all done eating, the boys clear the table and start setting it up for beer pong.

For the next couple hours, the 4 of you just hang out and slowly get more tipsy as you consume more alcohol. Eventually, the same bottle tequila from last night is getting passed around and you’re all just taking swigs. When you guys leave for the frat houses down the road, you are feeling pretty toasted. You and Annie walk hand in hand down the road and the buys follow behind you.

Since you are feeling pretty good at the moment, you lean into Annie and whisper (although not too quietly), “I’m sorry I interrupted your kiss earlier. It would’ve been a good one.”

Annie shushes you and giggles, “Be quiet, they’re right behind us.”

“But I’m whispering!” you exclaim, most definitely not whispering anymore, and Sam chuckles.

The frat house is crowded when you get there, and this time, you let the boys lead so they can make a path through the crowd. You get drinks and suddenly, Annie and Dan are gone. Sam has his hand on your arm so you two don’t lose eachother in the crowd, and you eventually make your way to one of the couches. There is a couple making out on the other end, but you’ve both seen worse things, so it doesn’t stop you from occupying the left over space. 

You didn’t recognize the song that was playing, and you you about to tell Sam that you weren’t a big fan of it, but he beat you to it.

“They should let me DJ. My music is way better than this.”

Smiling, you reply. “I agree, although I see why they chose this. It’ll be good to dance to later.”

Sam smirks at you. “Oh, it’s a dancing night? You must be pretty drunk already.” Sam taps the tip of your nose with his beer bottle, and if you had been sober, you probably would have been flustered, but Sam was right. You’re pretty drunk.

“Sammy, we drank like a whole bottle of tequila before we got here and then some. Of course it’s dancing night!” You started to get up, but Sam pulled you back down while laughing. You ended up more in his lap than next to him, and when you try to scootch off of him, he wraps his arm around your waist holding you against him securely. Again, if you were sober, you definitely would have reacted differently, but you just settled into Sam’s lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Let me finish my drink first, antsy pants,” he whispers into your hair.

You could have stayed like this forever. Sam smells so good and he’s rubbing his thumb against you. You can also feel his heartbeat and you swear it’s going a bit fast, like he’s nervous. You’d ask him about it if you weren’t so content where you were. Soon enough though, Sam is shaking you from your reverie.

“Come on, love, let’s go dance. I actually know this song!” Sam stands up before you get the chance to move and you’re impressed by how easy it was for him to manuever you around. With Sam holding your hand, you make your way to where the music is the loudest, which is in the basement. You’re happy you put your hair up earlier, because the lower you descend down the stairs, the hotter it becomes. 

“I guess your outfit choice was the right call,” Sam yells back to you. The music is so loud now that even though he’s right in front of you, you can barely hear him. 

“And so are your hoochie mama shorts!” you tease back.

He gives you a big lopsided smile and replies, “Oh but you like these shorts. I already knew they were going to be a good idea.”

You didn’t quite understand that, but you gave him a shrug back anyways. And once you reached the basement, the conversation didn’t matter anyways because you were sucked into the crowd to dance. It seems like you two have been dancing for hours by the time you’re ready to call it a night. You thought you would’ve run back into Danny and Annie at this point, but you never did. It doesn’t really worry you though, some nights were like this, and you guys would get separated. The boys always made sure to never leave one of you alone though.

Sam is watching you, and without you having to say anything, he knows you’re ready to go. He really is perfect, and you have the mind to tell him so. So you do.

“You’re perfect, Sammy,” you stare up at him. It’s pretty dark in the basement, but there ae colorful lights dancing around the room illuminate his face just enough to show you the confusion there.

“What did you say?” Sam yells back. Suddenly, you feel very sober as the realization hits you of what you just said.

“Nothing!” You shout. “I’m ready to go!” You turn around and make your way for the stairs before he can say anything else. You feel his hand find yours and he pulls you to a stop just long enough for him to move around you so he can lead the way. As soon as you step foot outside the house you feel the chill and gasp.

“No! I forgot my sweater at your house!” you whimper. You wish you still felt more of a buzz. Your houses are only a few blocks away, but it’ll be a chilly couple of blocks.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you can take my sweatshirt.” Sam pulls his crewneck off with ease and when you don’t take it right away he adds, “Seriously, I’m still hot from the basement, it feels really nice out here.”

With that confirmation, you take the sweatshirt from his hands and slip it on. It smells so much like him that you have to resist the urge to hold it to your nose and inhale a deep breath.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Of course, love, that’s what friends are for.” He smiles and nudges your shoulder with his arm. 

Feeling like you’ve been doused in cold water, you sober up once again. Friends. You feel embarassed as you remember parts of the night. You definitely weren't being a strictly platonic friend tonight, and if Madison had seen you, she could have been justifyingly pissed. What had gotten into you tonight? What had gotten into Sam? Thinking back on it, the flirting definitely hadn’t been one-sided. If anything, Sam had been progressing it. As much as you didn’t like his girlfriend, you still respect her enough as a person to not want to be a homewrecker. 

The two of you start walking back in silence, but it’s a content one. There is a little park on this block and Sam grabs your arm to redirect you down the path through the park instead of taking the stright way home. When you come up to the first bench he plops down unceremoniously and looks up at the stars.

You sit down on the other side, hugging yourself for warmth, and do the same thing. Since you’re in the city you really can’t see any stars, but you like to pretend you can anyways. The breeze is light tonight, but you can feel it on the backside of your legs through the wire bench and begin to shiver.

“Are you still cold?” Sam rolled his head to the side to look at you. 

“A bit, but I’m fine.” you chatter back.

He looks unamused and opens his arm up, giving you the opportunity to tuck into him for warmth. You wish so badly that you could, but you know it wouldn’t be right to Madison.

“Sam… that’s probably not a good idea. I don’t want Maddie to hate me more than she already does.” He tries to reply, but you keep going. “No, Sam. I’m so sorry for being so flirty with you today; the alcohol really got on top of me I guess.”

He just looks at you for a couple of seconds before saying, almost hesitantly, “Were you only flirting with me because of the alcohol?”

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You reply as quickly as you can, “Yeah, Sam. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have been. Although you were flirting right back, so you must have been feeling it too.”

Sam huffs out a laugh without any humour in it. “Yeah, something like that.”

You wish you could get rid of the awkward tension. What can you say though? ‘Break up with your girlfriend, Sam! I’m in love with you!’ Ya, that wouldn’t go over well. Suddenly, the thought of how to ease the tension rushes to you.

“Oh! Oh my god, what is going on between Andrea and Daniel?!”

It’s like a switch has been flipped and Sam sits up quickly with a huge grin on his face.

“He’s been dying to kiss her for months and I think we ruined it for him. He’s got it bad for her, but don’t tell him I told you that.”

You make the motion of zipping your lips and throwing out the key. “Okay, as long as you don’t tell Annie that I’m telling you about her massive crush on him. This is perfect! I think they’d be great together; I’m always telling her that.” You leave out the part where she always replies saying that you and Sam would be perfect together as well.

“That’s a deal!” Sam grabs your leg just above your knee and gasps, “I wonder if they left us to go kiss somewhere. What if they are already back home? If they’re fucking in my house I’m coming over and sleeping on your couch.”

You cackle and Sam continues on with his theories. He looks more at peace now than he has in weeks. His smile is huge, and you can’t help but think to yourself how easy it would be to be with him. The two of you just click; there isn’t a better way to explain it. You know in your heart that he is the person for you, you’ve known it for years. And who knows, maybe someday he will think so too, but today is not that day.

“Okay Sammy, can we keep walking? I’m getting tired.”

He smiles sweetly at you, “Of course, love.”

The rest of the walk back home was filled with your normal laughter and jokes. It felt good to be back to normal with Sam. When you got closer to your houses, you could see the lights turned on at Sam’s place. He noticed at the same time as you and stopped walking.

“Yeah, we definitely had all of the lights turned off before we left.” He looks down at you with an amused grin. “Right?”

You giggle, nod your head, and continue to walk. “I’m going to come get my sweater.”

“You just want to spy on them!” Sam calls after you which just makes you giggle more. 

“Maybe!” you sing back and bound up the stairs of his porch. You try to peer in the window while Sam is fishing his keys out, but when he turns the handle of his front door, it’s already unlocked. He quickly shushes you before opening the door and immediately closes it again.

At the swiftness of it all, you just stand there startled. Sam turns to you and whispers, “They are definitely fucking.”

“What? How do you even know? Oh my god, are they in the living room?”

Sam is blushing and replies while locking the door, “No, thank god… but Annie’s panties are.”

You couldn’t stop the bark of laughter if you tried. Instead of trying to shush you again, Sam just picks you up and carries you off the porch. 

“Sammy, put me down!” you laugh, and he doesn’t concede until you’re across the street. You get to your door, unlock it, and let Sam inside. 

“I fucking called it!” Sam says giddily. “I’m gonna give Daniel so much shit for this,” he grins lopsidedly and its adorable.

“Well, I’m happy someone is getting lucky tonight,” you reply while continuing to laugh. “I’ll grab you a pillow and some blankets.” You run into your room and grab a pillow off your bed and 2 of your extra blankets. When you return to your living room Sam is already laying on the couch with his eyes closed. You crouch by him and your knees pop in the process, but his eyes remain closed. He’s always been quick to sleep, but you think this has to be a new record.

“Sammy,” you whisper, but he still doesn’t wake up. His hair is falling in his face and you reach to move it away, but stop midway remembering that you shouldn’t be too touchy with him. It’s perfectly friendly to move someone’s hair out of their face though, right? You think if it were Danny or Annie sleeping on your couch here instead of Sam. You would move their hair out of the way for them. With that, you tuck the lock behind Sam’s ear and he sighs contently in his sleep.

You leave the pillow on the ground next to him and lays the blankets over him. Right before you turn to leave, you run your hand over his hair one more time. Someday, you think. Someday maybe he’ll see that you belong together.

- - -

When you wake up the next day, Sam is already gone. You know he has to work on  Sundays, but you thought he’d stay for breakfast. However, when you look at the clock and see that it’s just about noon, you are quick to forgive him. Annie doesn’t come back until later that afternoon which gives almost just enough time to finish your homework. She walks in the room wearing one of Danny’s shirts and you practically scream.

She rolls her eyes at you, but you still catch her subdued grin and the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh, shut up, Y/N. I know for a fact that Sam slept here last night too, so don’t be too cocky. And you’re still wearing his sweatshirt!”

“Ya, but only because he walked into his house to see your underwear on his living room floor!” you scoff back at her, then quickly add, “As they should be, by the way, I’m so happy for you!”

She smiles a knowing smile, for what you have no clue, and replies, “I’m sure your panties didn’t end up in the right place either.”

“What?” you state simply. “I can assure you that they did.”

Annie seems taken back by this statement a bit and takes a moment to reply. “Wait… did you guys not have sex last night?”

“Oh my god, Andrea, no. I don’t like Madison as much, if not more, than anyone else here, but I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Annie looks even more taken back by this statement and just asks blandly, “What?”

“I know I don’t like Maddie, but I would never be a homewrecker. I can’t believe you would think that I would,” you frown and then remember all of the flirting from last night. “Actually, you know, that’s kind of justified. I was so flirty with him yesterday that I actually apologised to him for it.”

“Babe, wait, hold on,” she’s talking over you slightly as you try to explain. “He didn’t tell you?”

That question makes you stop your rambling. “Who didn’t tell me what?”

“Sam?” Annie starts and waits to see if you know where she is going with the statement, but you don’t have a clue. She huffs out a breath.

“Babe, Sam broke up with Madison yesterday.”

The world buzzes for a second and you think you heard her wrong.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sam broke up with Maddie, Y/N. He told Danny and I yesterday while you were at the game. He was supposed to tell you last night.”

There are so many thoughts running around your head at this moment that you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of them. A bit of time must have passed because Annie snaps her fingers in your face to bring you back to the present.

“Did he really not tell you? We even told him that you’d be ecstatic with the news.”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Um…” Andrea cringes a bit and rushes out, “Okay, you can’t be mad because we knew it would work out in your favor, but Danny and I told Sam that you like him.”

“What!” you yell, but she continues on.

“And he was so happy, because he really likes you. I know this for a fact because he told me, Y/N. Listen to me.” Annie grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes, which are still blown wide from everything that she has just admitted to you.

“Sam likes you, Y/N. I think he needs to explain it to you himself, so I won’t say anything else, but please just believe me.” She stares at you until you nod your head. Then she finally lets you go and sits down next to you.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell you. He was so confident when we left for the party. The flirting was going so well.”

As soon as she mentions the flirting you understand. “I told him I was only flirting because of the alcohol.”

“What?”

“I apologized for flirting with him last night and blamed it on having too much to drink. He even asked me to clarify and I said that I wouldn’t have flirted with him if I wasn’t drunk.”

She covers her face with her hands and when she speaks again its muffled. “Oh my god you two are impossible.” She drops her hands and turns to face you. “You know, Danny and I have liked each other for a lot less time and we got it figured out by ourselves.”

You just roll your eyes.

“You need to go over there right now, babe.”

“What? To Sam’s house? He’s at work.”

“No he isn’t. I left when he got back, they were overstaffed so they sent him home.”

 She stands back up and grabs your hands to pull you up too.

“Go, Y/N! I can’t stand this anymore.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You push Annie back down to the couch and she laughs. Your heart is racing, but she’s right. You can’t stand this anymore. Rushing to your room to find your shoes, you pull out your phone to text Sam.

You: I’m coming over.

When you pass the mirror by the door you give yourself a quick runover. There are wisps of hair falling out of the bun you slept in and there is still a bit of mascara under your eyes.

“Shit.” you say to yourself.

Annie hears you though and states, “Oh stop, he always thinks your pretty. Plus, I can already see him waiting by the door for you. If that doesn’t prove to you right there that he likes you, nothing ever will.”

“Shit, okay.” Your heart is pounding. By the time you cross the road you’re surprised it hasn’t fallen out of your chest. The panic must be evident on your face because when you walk up to Sam he looks concerned.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened?”

How do you start this conversation. To ground yourself, you stare at Sam and focus on his appearance. His hair is pulled back today in a low bun and he is wearing clothes that don’t match at all. You’d think that it would look bad, but he can really pull off outfits like this. Looking back at his face, you can tell that he trimmed his facial hair this morning too. He's frowning slightly and his honey brown eyes are filled with concern.

“Y/N? What hap–”

“I like you,” you blurt out. Wow, okay. Smoothe. 

Admitting this to Sam is like going back to your first middle school crush. Standing on the playground with your hair in pigtails and braces freshly on your teeth. It was the most nerve-wracking moment of your life at that point in time. With so many butterflies in your stomach that it felt like you were going to puke them out. This moment with Sam is exactly like that, although hopefully this boy won’t be grossed out and state with disgust “girls have cooties.” All you can do is take a deep breath and continue on.

“Sam, I have liked you pretty much ever since the day we met, but I thought you’d never feel the same way about me, so I tried to hide that fact. But here’s the thing, I’m sick of pretending like you’re not my absolute favorite person in the world, and I’m tired of hiding my feelings away. 

I feel like I understand you in a way that no else could ever know. I’ve always been in your corner and I’m pretty sure I always will be. I love the way I feel when I’m with you, and I love knowing everything about you. I know your favorite songs, your favorite places to stargaze, your love for your family, your opinions on which types of lettuce taste best, and I know all of your hopes and dreams. And I think I know where you belong, Sam.”

At this point, you meet Sam’s eyes. They are blown wide open and his mouth is a little agape. However, you can see a bit of awe in his eyes which gives you the courage to continue. You look down at your hands and fiddle with your rings because you can't bear the thought of looking into his eyes if he rejects you.

“Sam, you belong with me. I’m really hoping you feel the same way, otherwise please just forget I said any–”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to Sam’s and you see that they are still filled with awe, but also warmth and love and hope.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Sam’s mouth closes in on yours in an instant and the rest of the world melts away. His hands cup the side of your face, and when he starts to pull back you grab the sides of his sweater and hold him closer to you. His tongue ventures into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and you swear nothing has felt more perfect in your life. 

When you finally break apart, both of your lips are a bit swollen and you’re out of breath. Sam is still holding your face and he rubs one of his thumbs over your cheekbone. 

With foreheads pressed together Sam whispers to you, “I have wanted to do that since I first saw you, Y/N. I didn’t think you saw me the same way.”

Giggling, you reply, “Are you kidding? I practically have hearts for eyes when I look at you, Sam. I never even got a hint that you might like me back though.”

“I didn’t want to scare you away. You’re my best friend, Y/N. I was content to have you in my life anyway I could. I just wish we could have figured this out years ago.” He chuckles against your lips as he kisses you sweetly once again.

Across the road you hear your door open. “Get a room!” Annie yells and then cackles and starts walking across the road. Right then, Dan walks out his front door.

“Annie!” He scolds. “We were going to give them space!”

She waves her hands in a dismissing motion as she bounds up the steps of the porch and crashes into Danny’s arms. He puts one over her shoulder and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Oh please, if they wanted personal space they shouldn’t have been making out on the front porch.”

Sam moves behind you while she talks and wraps his arms around your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder in the process. Hoping this is a new normal, you tilt your head to the side to nestle up against Sam’s. This time when you breathe in his cologne, you take the full opportunity to bask in it.

He grabs the material of the sweatshirt you have on and you can feel his smile take place on your shoulder. "You look cute in my clothes."

"I'm glad you think so because I'm going to keep this," you tease and he lets out a single breathy laugh.

“So,” Annie interrupts and shoots you both a wide smile before asking, “Double date tonight?”

[amandamgsblog]

Chapter 8 - Rain and care - Part 2

Amanda's POV

We arrived at the coordination office and asked the receptionist if any of the Languages coordinators were there.

— There's only Priscilla. What's the problem? I can put her on. - Cláudio says.

— Well, one of my colleagues deliberately stepped on my foot, which is already disabled, and almost broke it. It's been half an hour and some people saw it.

— This is very serious. You can go in, she's in her room at the end of the corridor.

We thanked her and found Priscilla.

— Hi, are you the other coordinator? I'm Amanda and this is Ross. We're first-year students and something unpleasant happened just now.

— Sit down and tell me about it.

— Help me out here, Ross, it's throbbing…

Well, I was walking back to the entrance of the main auditorium of 43, and a colleague was leaving at the same time, but she grabbed me by the shoulders, stared at me and stomped on my foot, hard, with hatred. And what's worse, it was the foot that I have a birth defect in. And it's not the first time she's picked on me, because she's been bullying me since the first day I joined the course.

— Wow, I'm going to call her in private and we'll sort this out. This is very serious. Do you know if she has a reason for such aggressive behavior?

— Can I say something? - Ross asks. — I've witnessed situations where Ariana has made fun of Amanda's disabilities and she picks on Amanda because she likes me, and Amanda and I have been very close since we met.

— Well, nothing justifies that. I'm going to give her a warning and a two-day suspension. If anyone else does anything to upset you, Amanda, come and talk to any of us, understand?

We smiled and thanked her. We left and Ross hugged me.

— I told you everything would be fine. You were scared for nothing… - He says and I laugh.

— Thank you, handsome.

— You're welcome, beautiful. And your foot?

— Throbbing less. Let's go back and I'll put it up a bit. - I take his hand and we talk. A couple of times, I had to put my arm around his neck and walk on one foot. We laughed at the height difference. — Do you think you'll be all right tomorrow? It rained a lot and I'm worried.

— I'll be fine. I'm so happy that girl is going to be punished… - He stops and stares at me. —And I meant it when I said that you're strong and that you shouldn't listen to the shit she says.

— I know. I don't believe I'm pretty, but I know the rest. - I laugh and Ross stops me and grabs my right cheek. He closes his eyes and kisses my other cheek a few times and I smile, feeling my heart race.

We walk back and watch the rest of the lessons. In the evening, I put on some pain cream and put my foot up and it got better.

Ross' POV

I ended up not feeling well the next day. I woke up with a runny nose, a lot of nausea, a scratchy throat, coughing, a sore body and, worst of all, I have an exam today. If I don't take it, it won't be until the end of the semester and there's a good chance I'll forget I didn't take it.

— Awn, son, why don't you stay home today?

— I have exams today and tomorrow. I can't miss it. One of the exams is from the teacher who expelled me. - I say, frowning, remembering.

— So you're not driving today. You look like hell. - My father says.

— Geez, I'll improve faster.

I take a nap in the middle of the morning and get a hitchhike. The exam is in the first period of the day, so I'll just have to survive a bit until the exam is over.

I kept coughing and my friends realized I was sick.

— What happened? - Alice asks.

— He got rained on yesterday, he got soaked. - Amanda strokes my back.

I finish the exam and get a headache, my vision blurs, and I put my head down.

— Ross, are you feeling sick? - Duda, one of Ariana's nice friends, asks. All I can do is nod.

— I'll take you to the doctor's. - Amanda says and we leave.

— I don't want to. I'm going to faint… - I say weakly.

We walk carefully to the cafeteria and Amanda sits me down.

— I'll get you a snack. Hi, what have you baked? It could be a pão de queijo.

She comes back with the snack and a juice, but I don't feel hungry.

— I'm not hungry, sorry.

— You have to eat or you won't get better. Just a little. For me…

What do I not do for her?

I eat the bread and feel like lying down on the sofa over there. There was no air conditioning today.

— Will you lie down with me, Amandita?

She laughs and sits down on the sofa. I lay my head on her knees. So warm and cuddly. My day is made.

I feel her stroke my hair and we fall asleep. I wake up and decide I'd better go to the medical center inside the college because I have a fever.

— I've improved… a little.

— But you still have a fever and a cough.

We get there and I lie down on the stretcher.

— What a cold place… - I say shivering. Amanda, once again, takes another zippered blouse and puts it over my body. Every gesture she makes to take care of me makes me fall more in love. I'm not going to deny it any longer.

I wait for the doctor to arrive and explain the situation. He gives me some fever medicine and we wait for my temperature to drop a little. I feel a bit better to attend classes and I go home.

— Mom, dad, I'm really falling in love. But I'm scared… I don't know if it's good or bad…

— Son, you'll never know if you don't try. - My dad says and I nod. Even though I'm exhausted and sick, I smile, getting some ideas.

[infatuatedheloise]

ok forgive me for my less active posting, finals are next week and dead week is absolutely killing me this semester 😭

anyway! I said I'd talk about this later and then never said anything lol so here I am

on my close friends insta story, I talked about past experiences with older men trying to go after me and mentioned a classmate I had last semester who was 48 and just generally kinda weird

I went to abelard's office the next day basically to say thank you for dealing with my anxiety the other day about my outfit and I said "I know I probably crossed a couple lines.." and he shook his head and said it was fine, then said "it was incredible...you say things that--you can be so quiet, but then you say things about things that might be weird and I don't think I could do that" which he's told me something similar before but it was interesting to hear it again

anyway, then he was like, "I'll ask something that is maybe inappropriate" (I was like😲😲😲 🤨🤨🤨 what is he gonna ask??) he lowered his voice and asked "who is this guy that-" (asking about the classmate I had mentioned)

I explained that he def didn't know him, and then I explained the whole story/my experiences with this guy (don't really wanna retell that here rn) and abelard was grimacing and cringing at all the stuff that this guy did. I finished talking and he said "at least it's good fodder for a story" and when I didn't really react he said "is that inappropriate to say?" I said no it was fine to joke about it lol

Since we were on the topic, I told him about my experiences with a coworker I once had and again abelard was totally disgusted by the stuff this guy did/said.

Then he said, "Well, I'm glad you never had any experiences with our colleague" I asked who he meant and when he told me I said "oh..hm, yeah" which obviously made him curious so I explained that this other professor had given me weird vibes, I caught him staring at my chest a lot, and he once said something to me about my face/appearance when I didn't wear a mask to class, so nothing serious but I just had a feeling. I said, "it's really good to know that [he has a history of being gross with students] though"

I also told him a joke that I like to make after these experiences with the coworker and classmate: "my ability to pull middle aged men is insane" and he laughed so hard at that like threw back his head laughing hahaha, then I told him the joke like "i thought 39 [coworker's age] was bad, god said try 48 [clasmate's age]" which he also thought was funny.

he said "But we're in the clear now?" I said "yeah, no middle aged men trying to go after me" then he said, "yeah, any 50 year olds-" and stopped himself to ask, "Is that ok to say?" because not only was he joking about me being harassed by older men, but also joking about the progressing age gaps LOL I thought it was so funny

Also I was a little embarrassed during this whole convo because 1. I have a crush on him 2. he is an older, middle aged man and here I was talking about older, middle aged men harassing me 😭😭😭 he thought it was fine though and didn't mind talking about it

[osp-originals]

Sympathy Sick

TW: emeto

———

It was 11 PM on a normal Tuesday night and Raj was getting ready to go to bed. He saw that the sign was flipped to “occupied” on the shared bathroom door in his dorm.

Oh, Julian must be in there.

He decided to brush his teeth, not thinking anything of it.

A minute later, he heard a loud retch come from the other side of the door. He froze. His stomach was already turning from the sound.

Oh god, is he getting sick?

Raj tried to spit out the toothpaste so he could get out of there as soon as possible, but he was too late. His roommate heaved loudly again and liquid splashed into the toilet.

Raj barely had time to brace himself on the counter before a bit of his dinner made its way up his throat and into the sink. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it.

Julian vomited again and Raj’s stomach followed, bringing up a mouthful of sick. It sounded like Julian was throwing up everything he ever ate with the intensity and length of the splashes.

Jesus Christ. I hope I don’t catch whatever he’s got.

The thought of himself being that sick made his stomach jump. His roommate let out a sickly burp and then more liquid. Raj puked up another puny amount of his food in response.

Julian, please, just stop, he thought. He would never say that out loud, though, because of course, that’s not how sickness works. He can’t stop any more than I can. Wait, can I…?

The next time Julian threw up, Raj tried to forcefully stop himself from following suit. He successfully swallowed down the liquid that came up his throat at first, but then it just came back with a vengeance seconds later. The second gag was much more violent and painful than the first and brought up much more vomit.

That didn’t work at all. I guess if it was that easy, no one would ever be sick.

“Raj?” Julian said from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Raj responded.

“Are you sick, too?”

“No, I just…” He paused, knowing that even saying these words out loud would turn his stomach. “I always throw up when somebody else throws up.”

“Oh, you’re a sympathy puker?”

He had never heard it in those words before, but now that he did, it definitely applied.

“I guess so.”

“Well, sorry,” Julian apologized.

“It’s okay. I just wish you would’ve told me you were going to… y’know… so that I could stay in my room.”

“I’ll try to text you next time, if it happens again.”

“Thanks. Are you okay, by the way?”

“Yeah. I mean, I feel like shit, but I’m fine.”

I sure get that.

He washed the evidence down the drain and went back to his bedroom, hoping and praying Julian wouldn’t be sick again. Just in case, he texted him:

Let me know if you need anything.

Luckily, it turned out to be a one-time thing and he didn’t need anything.

———

Yeah this is really short lol. Just a fun intro to Raj as a sympathy puker tbh.

Here are some notes/background about Raj if you’re interested:

He and Julian have known each other since high school, but they weren’t very close in high school. They happened to have a couple of classes together in their first year at Uni, and since he was the only person Julian knew in those classes, Julian talked to him and they became better friends. Raj’s parents immigrated from India when he was in preschool and Julian’s parents immigrated from South Africa before Julian was born, so they bonded over their shared experiences with that. They started rooming together in their second semester because they got along so well.

This interaction is set in their fist semester rooming together, so their second semester at Uni.

Julian is now one of the few people Raj is comfortable talking to at Uni. Raj doesn’t talk much to or around people he isn’t close friends with, but he talks freely to Julian. He has always been a pretty socially anxious person, and he has undiagnosed selective mutism.

Usually Raj would avoid sick people like the plague (literally), but he cares enough about Julian that he wants to make sure he’s okay no matter what. He’ll still avoid him when he’s actually throwing up though. He’s not emetophobic, but ofc he doesn’t enjoy throwing up.

They’re both straight btw.

[juiceboxerr]

finding out i was aromantic (aroacespec to be exact) was probably the most drawn out discovery i’ve had about myself.

junior year of high school i observed everyone in my grade and mentally picked out a guy i thought was cute near the end of the school year.

fast forward to senior year, the boy i picked ends up being one of the three people who i become friends with. we get closer i forget i literally picked him out of the crowd the year before and trick myself into thinking i like him (mind you i started “liking” him on day one of senior year), but i was never interested in doing anything about it.

we graduate and contact between us becomes more and more rare, but that’s fine because the minute i didn’t see him five times a week for 6-7 hours the feeling’s disappeared in the blink of an eye. i think nothing of it besides “oh well, must be normal, it happens.”

it was, in fact, not normal. i didn’t realize this is not what most people with a crush usually feel; that for most people, feelings don’t disappear the minute you don’t see the person anymore. so because i never brought it up, nobody told me that isn’t how it normally works, so i never spared a thought as to why since i didn’t know any different.

for the next couple of months after that i changed labels multiple times, wondering why none of the sexualities or romantic orientations i tried to use fit. it took me a year after i graduated high school, which included almost two semesters of college, to finally stumble upon the aromantic spectrum. i researched and thought about it for weeks before i felt like i could bring it up to one of my friends, i thought things might be different and it took me some time to come to terms with it, but in the end nothing changed. i’m still me, i’ve always been this way, the only difference is that i found out what it’s called.

now, it’s been almost a year since i figured it out and told someone. since then, i’ve been able to research more and read posts from likeminded people, i’ve been able to figure out who i am outside of the outlook that “i’m falling behind in the sexual and romance aspect of life.” that i had for so long. it’s taken a while and a lot of trial labels to get here but now i can actually explore who i am and what i want from life, there are so many things outside of the whole nuclear family i was raised to believe was the end goal in order to have a successful and fulfilling life.

being aromantic is something i’m happy with, it was the puzzle piece i was missing. i get the freedom to figure out what i really want, and i don’t have to change anything about me so others might find me attractive. everything i do, the clothes i wear, the way i act and present, all of it is for no ones benefit but my own. i get to exist for me, i don’t need anyone to be my “other half” in order to feel complete. i can choose what aromantism means for me, and i get to figure out what life and happiness means for me, and only me, not based off of what anyone else says or what is expected of me.

i’m aromantic. nobody gets to decide what that means for me besides me, and i can spend as much of my life as i want figuring that out.