#one of my friends told me that everybody in their school thought they were a cold intimidating bitch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ajortga · 6 days ago

Text

truth be told

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: when cairo catches herself falling in love, she also catches herself in lies that were destined to bite back in the end

word count: 4.3k

author's note: hi guys:)

Cairo Sweet wasn’t sure when she had started stalking you.

‘It’s not stalking, I just happen to know where she’s at’ she’d say, although at this point, she caught herself following suite wherever you went.

It began when she had the ability to start noticing. Of course she had noticed things before, like how Mr. Miller would tap his foot like a ticking time bomb, or how she’d know people were lying if their eyes flickered around too much.

But it was a different kind of noticing. Noticing how you would be styled in jeans and a top that was her favorite color. It was a coincidence, she had never acknowledged you enough to share that her favorite color was navy.

You and Cairo had gone through years of school together, yet you both had never come to a point where you became friends. It was strange, how you could know someone for such an obscure amount of time yet not enough to wave a hello?

Until, well, something had happened–you were both in Mr. Miller’s class, and Cairo’s wandering eyes had landed on you while you were writing words quickly on your paper.

She shouldn’t have found you blowing your bangs to the side so hot.

What. The. Fuck.

Cairo didn’t know what happened.

In a blink of an eye, you began to appear everywhere, why was it after her? To just notice it now?

It started off small; she’d pack up slower when the bell had rung, and once you slipped out of Mr. Miller’s classroom, she’d stay a modest distance behind you just enough to know what your next class was.

By the end of the week, she knew every single class you had. She found out you went to your film class and forensics workshop for office hours.

Suddenly, Cairo Sweet was chasing. Chasing you. God forbid how much she wanted to catch you, like you were some billion dollar auction to win.

And no matter how many fucking dollars someone bid higher than her, she would be the one to win.

You were a month younger than her.

You had an older sister.

You were vice president of your school’s class council.

You liked to read as much as her.

You went to the libraries on Wednesdays.

You went to sleep at 11:50 PM.

You woke up at 6:35 AM.

Your middle name is Y/M/N

Your father’s name is-

Yeah. It was like you were on Cairo’s board of interest. She was calculated, subtle.

The brunette knew that you were into literature just as much as she was. You more interested in the book assignments like she was the writing pieces.

So, she had stopped by Mr. Miller’s classroom one day after school.

A knock of the door, then a creak open as her platforms stepped inside.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said politely, in a clear voice, slinging her bag to one side as she approached Mr. Miller.

He gave her a polite smile, “Cairo,” he greeted, “You’re lucky, I just finished a meeting, so you’re not. Do you need something?”

Cairo skimmed through her bag, pulling out the book your class was reading. “A favor, I believe I’m slightly trailing behind on the work you’ve assigned on this book. It’s not my cup of tea, so it’s been hard to read. By chance, do you have someone that might be able to help me with explaining the book better?”

She had spent an hour coming up with what to say for all of her answers to eventually lead to you.

Mr. Miller had thought for a moment. “Well, I do agree that this isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, because of the writing style. I suggest you look online for a in depth summary of each chapter.”

Cairo waited patiently.

“But, if you do need more assistance, Y/N has been exceptional with her work based on this book lately. I could ask her if she could help you, only if she agrees, of course. I can ask her tomorrow after class.”

Bingo.

“That’d be perfect, thank you.” Cairo said, her nonchalant voice definitely differing from the smirk that dared to appear on her face.

Mr. Miller nodded slowly, noticing the slip of excitement in her voice as he cleared his throat, “I’ll have to ask her, she does have quite the extracurriculars.”

“Cairo Sweet?” You asked with a smooth voice as you entered the room, closing the door of the empty classroom with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You turn to the light switch, turning it off as you switched on another, causing the whole entire room to be lit up with fairy lights.

Y/N, founder of a non-profit organization, captain of the-

You slip into the seat beside her, the light cascading your face in a warm glow. She didn’t realize she was boring holes through your face until you glanced up at her, causing her to look away. “So, Mr. Miller told me yesterday that you’re not quite caught up in what we’re reading. Shakespeare not for you?”

Cairo scoffed lightly, “I’m not into sappy romance, unfortunately. It’s more of, half the time the characters aren’t speaking in modern English. More like the medieval times.”

She was tangling herself in a lie. A lie that might bite back at her later. For the most part, Cairo had absolutely no issue reading the play. She silently told herself that she’d tell you later on.

You pull out your books and notebooks, “I think that Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy more than romance. But I get what you mean. Here,” you point at your notes, “could you show me what you’ve written for each act so far? I’ll try my best to translate it to something you might understand.”

It was stupid, not being able to do nothing but nod. But at this point, that was all she was capable of.

The scent of Cairo’s bedroom was tainted with smoke as she took a hit from her blunt. She scribbled words on her journal that she didn’t even knew she would ever write.

Sinful, dirty words, about somebody she barely even took notice of.

A flutter of eyelashes, that’s all it took for her to unravel in your hands like putty.

Yet, she couldn’t seem to stop. She never thought how much she could write when she was inspired.

She was never a sappy person for romantic crap. She wasn’t like Winnie, who’d have a new crush every week, or end up with someone in her bed on Friday nights.

The weekdays weren’t dreaded anymore. Yet–she felt like she was turning into somebody so corrupted.

Cairo began to shift subjects during your study sessions, ‘accidentally’ brush her hand against yours when taking notes, asking innocently for your phone number so she could ask you questions.

You text her, sometimes. Respond to her texts, tell her little things about your day, like how you were working on your big science project that meant so much to you, maybe text her about the things that you do after school, as if she didn’t know already.

But gosh, you two had went back and forth one night till midnight. And, you had the audacity to send her a photo of your sleepy self with a messy bun and glasses on. Cairo had scanned the photo for a few minutes straight, how your cheeks were rosy pink from the salt lamp in front of you, your half-lidded eyes dazed with sleep.

Yeah, she had to send you off to bed after that.

Cairo knew that you were the person that could capture the eyes of anybody. You had straight A’s, you spent almost all your weekends volunteering, and you had never seemed to try hard to do what you were doing. You had won the science fair in your district and in the nation. Everyone was always excited for what you were working on now.

She’s seen you, you were that sweet girl, willingly offer somebody half of your home-made food if they were still hungry, pay for your friends food, you had even apologized to somebody who literally hit you straight into the face with a volleyball.

You were the person that people would take advantage of for your kindness.

It just seemed like each time she stepped closer to knowing you more, she’d tangle herself in little white lies. Lies that could’ve been prevented, like she was manipulating you with a persona she couldn’t even catch up with.

And every time, Cairo would take your friendly gestures in the wrong way. She’d savor every drop of the teeniest bit of attention you even gave her.

When she’d see you smile at her, with a crinkle around your eyes, Cairo almost felt her stomach twist in knots. She had lied about a lot of things.

She lied about not feeling well, crying so that you stayed with her during lunches. Cairo had told you that she had a sickness. She’d find herself putting an act as you were forced to abandon whatever or whoever you were currently with to sit next to her.

Each time she felt you grow distracted, she’d throw in a lie, to get pity, keep your worried, pretty eyes back on her. And the last thing Cairo would have never imagined herself doing, she had said her grandfather had passed away, from cancer. It was when you had told her you hadn’t been spending time with your family recently because of the three hour long tutoring sessions. Your friends either, Cairo had dragged you away at lunches.

You had knew how much her grandfather meant to her, you’ve heard about him a few times before. The feeling that Cairo was taking advantage of you scratched at her.

She was more than upset, she had other friends, but it made her frustrated. Cairo Sweet always won, she wasn’t going to let you start slipping away. The brunette didn’t even know why she did it, but after she feigned worrisome horror, it was too late. The web of lies keep growing.

“Oh Cairo, shit. I’m so sorry.” You murmured, your eyes looking guilty.

Guilty for her crying about something that didn’t even exist.

Cairo could see how worried you were for her, how you started calling your friends. It made her bite her cheek, eyes boring at the floor in shame.

Cairo Sweet was a liar. And it’d be back to snap back at her.

It made her sick every time after, lying to you, yet she’d find herself crawling back to jump again.

The truth always bit back.

You felt yourself becoming closer to Cairo. She’d invite you at hers almost every night, and you would try coming at least twice every week. Maybe you were slowly drifting apart from others, but Cairo made you forget all about it.

Most of the time, you’d talk, listened, shared. She was sweet, she was Cairo Sweet, after all. And everything she’d say, you’d lend an ear and believe it. You liked her, she’d always be there at the right time at the right moment.

You never knew how she did it.

Cairo found you beginning to lean your head on her shoulder, fall asleep against her, ask her to hang out on the weekends.

One day, she hoped it would be more. To have the title of a girlfriend.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

It was another typical day, she approached you as you closed your locker, “Y/N.”

The familiar voice caused your head to turn to her, your eyes crinkling as you smiled, “Hi, Cairo,” you replied, walking alongside her as you both headed to your next class, conveniently being Mr. Millers. “Hope you aren’t tired out today by the rain.”

You watch her as she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head as she looks back at you, “You wanna come over to mine and bake later? I’m supposed to be helping fundraise, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep some for ourselves.” The two of you snicker as you nod and head into Mr. Miller’s class.

“I’ll have to see, I was planning on working on my science project since I’m so close to practically inventing some sort of robot. I’ll have to show you, it’s been working so well with the programming lately-”

“Well, let me know, I’d be happy if you came.”

Somehow, it was the second day you ditched researching for your project. Maybe she should’ve let you keep working on it, whatever you were working on seemed really important to you.

By the time you two went back to her house, you both were stirring the batter of your cupcakes and cookies.

Cairo was having fun, she could sense that you were too. In the span of a few weeks, you grew comfortable with her, not having to prepare what you were going to say to her without making the conversation awkward.

You found yourselves laying on her bed as the goodies were baking, you were curled into her, yawning. It was peaceful for you, your quiet thoughts drifting. She feels you turn to observe her, hesitant.

“Do you miss him, sometimes?”

Cairo looked at you, propping up. “Who?”

“Your grandfather.”

It takes Cairo a few moments, you can see it too. You would say you were good at reading people. But something in her movements didn’t align correctly.

You would’ve thought that there would be a moment of sadness in her eyes, nostalgia, melancholy. Her eyes always spoke to you, shining, dimming. Yet, they didn’t share the feeling of grief. It was small, but you couldn’t miss the confusion, then full on flicker of panic in her eyes, before in a blink of an eye, it was gone.

Cairo swallows, picks at the skin at the edge of her nails, “A lot,” she forces, avoiding your gaze as she began to travel back to all the times she lied to you about her grandfather. Fuck. What did she talk about? She can’t remember.

Cairo can’t remember.

She sticks to being silent for a moment, “I think that he was the closest thing I had to a best friend when I was little. He always took me out to get ice cream, make secret treasure maps. I think a part of me, well, my whole family died when he passed away from his heart attack.”

She senses something, a shift in your form as you tense slightly. She turns and tilts her head, a question of what happened.

“I thought you said he passed away from cancer?”

Shit.

Cairo straightened, thoughts scrambling as her mind grew foggy. “I mean, yes, he did pass away mostly due to cancer. But the heart attack was.. Well, it was what was the reason it caused him to pass away so early.”

Please don’t ask anymore questions.

She had ran, ran away from her lies, but they started running faster.

Please let it go.

She could see the way you were studying her, the slight furrow of your eyebrows. She knew that something wasn’t adding up in her timeline. But after a short moment, your eyebrows fell and you leaned back. “Oh, I see.”

Cairo let out a long breath when you scooted closer to her and closed your eyes for a small nap.

You wrapped yourself further into your project, your room filled with notebooks of coding, engineering, and all of the information of your possibly new invention of a robot that could help the world.

It meant having to turn down weekend plans, small gatherings, meet-ups with Cairo.

Oh boy.

The timer for Cairo had ticked again.

She shouldn’t do it. This was something that was important to you.

It would only be till the span of the deadline and you’d be hers again. Hopefully.

But she couldn’t stop. She was already so close to snatching you.

Just this last time. She’d stop. She promised herself.

Like the broken promises she had made after each lie she told you.

She had gotten an idea. It wasn’t a good one. Well, it was genius for her. Perfect for her. But she knew that this idea would indefinitely break you and your relationship with her. She was putting it at risk a very high one. If you found out, Cairo knew that it would be over.

She was jeopardizing your relationship, your project, your future,

She would jeopardize you.

And if she ever saw the look on your face once you knew it was her, she’d never forgive herself.

She should stop.

Yet it wasn’t enough for her to stop.

In the morning, Cairo woke up jittery, biting the side of her cheek. The stirring feeling in her stomach stayed as she walked to school, slipping into the hallways.

It had to be quick; you had told her that you were going to drop off your project in Mr. Miller’s classroom and show it to him after class. Cairo couldn’t erase the thought of how proud you looked when you said it, your eyes saying it all.

Cairo breathed in deeply, shaking her head, pulling a strand of her hair as she cursed. This wasn’t a fucking game. Why couldn’t she just wait a few weeks?

You had spent months researching, building, adjusting. It would take Cairo statistically 8 seconds. Then she’d be out, and by the time she walks to class with you, she’d be hero again. She’d be the killer for 8 seconds, then the rest she’d be the hero long enough to forget about it.

Cairo knew that Mr. Miller would be out with Coach Filmore on Tuesdays, he’d leave the keys in the front office till the time they both came back, with some sort of black coffee.

The brunette was calculated, having a printed schedule she wouldn’t be using as she walked into the office. Nobody batted an eye.

The next thing she knew, her hands grazed over the doorknob that was under the words

J MILLER

Pressed down slightly, and pushed as she didn’t bother turning on the light. Her hands roamed around the solid, flat area of a wooden desk, searching. She squinted until her fingers hooked against the loophole of the keys and charms of what she was looking for. Holding it in her hand as it jingled, she rushed out.

It was at least 15 minutes before the bell would ring. She’d have 10 to make it back and return the keys.

Cairo’s eyes were trained on the building in front of her as she walked, keys jingling, her hands just in reach-

“Hey, Sweet.”

Your soft voice pulled Cairo out of the frenzy she was in as her heels spun quickly.

“Woah there. Goodmorning to you too.” You giggle, studying her unbelievably pale face. “Are you okay?”

You could read her expressions. You could read anybody in a blink of an eye. But Cairo knew that you could read her better than anybody else.

“Sorry, yeah, a little jittery. Too much coffee this morning. I really have to do something at the moment, but-”

“Coffee?” You ask, giving her a confused, lopsided smile before it almost shifts to a straight line. “I thought you said you were passing on coffee this morning because it made you feel all weird after lunch.”

Your tone was accusive, just curious, it sounded a little raw.

“Well, I guess I lied to myself,” Cairo tried to joke, she had 12 minutes. She really needed to get into that room.

Before you could say more, your friends waved you over, calling your name.

“I should go,” you say instead, eyes flickering back to her. You sighed, realizing that she had already fled into the building, the jingling slowly fading away.

Cairo rushed through the empty hallways, the sound of her footsteps following after her as the keys clinked together when she inserted it in through the keyhole and turned it.

The silent click of the light switch was all the noise Cairo had made–beside her breathing that shouldn’t be this ragged.

Her eyes scanned the desks, searching. She gripped onto the keys as she walks between the desks, feeling regret begin to pool in her stomach.

She had 6 minutes, it’ll only take 8 seconds.

Her plan was stupid. She didn’t know why she was going to do it. Cairo slowly took your robot lying so perfectly, untouched, and perfectly program on your desk, into her palms. She just had to snap it so it would be enough to snap wires, enough for you to be pulled back from her invisible string and cry while she comforted you.

Comforted you for her own wrong doing.

8 seconds, 4 minutes and thirty seconds.

Cairo felt the eyelashes caress her cheeks as she closed them, gripping onto your months of work. She breathed deeply, placing her hands on opposite sides.

She could just put it back.

Cairo began to bend, until she could hear the struggle of wires, the small chip of plastic, the door opening-

“Cairo?”

Your voice was soft, unsure, your hand trembling on the doorknob as you watched the fallen angel holding thousands of hours of work in her hands turn around slowly. Her doe eyes were like the one’s of a deer in headlights.

The room was quiet, the only noise was a buzzing sound signaling the failure of the robot in Cairo’s hand. And if you counted it, the loud, guilty beating of her lying heart.

She wanted to explain, tell her that her lies caught her in every reckless and stupid action she had done. Yet, the vocal chords of her words died in her throat.

Cairo Sweet was a manipulator of many things. Feelings, people, the truth. But, the only thing that she never wanted to manipulate was you. Yet, she had manipulated every part of you.

To have you catch her, even when she wouldn’t even fall.

The look in your eyes made her feel like she shoved a dagger through your heart. Yet, your voice was soft enough to make her feel like you'd still be the one to say sorry even if you were the one bleeding out.

“Y/N.” She paused, “How did you- I didn’t-”

You pull out a keychain, jingling it. “I heard,” you mumbled, voice much different than it was 5 minutes ago.

It was only 8 seconds.

You looked at her, trying to understand. And even though you never did, you still raised your hand up slightly to interrupt. “It’s okay, Cairo.” You murmur, she could hear the way a sense of hurt laid beneath, “Really. I wish you could’ve just told me you were here.”

You walked towards her, but you weren’t looking at her, you focused on your broken robot. The room was quiet as you slowly kneeled down, shattered pieces of plastic and glass on your hands. The ripped wiring was making a buzzing sound, and you felt your heart grow heavy. You were supposed to turn it in a week by now. The damage was too much to fix in that amount of time.

It was meant to get you a scholarship.

The way you stood silently somehow made her feel worse than if you were to yell at her. Your face was unreadable as you slowly began to get up.

You couldn’t see Cairo’s expression, but her eyes moved upwards when your voice came, quiet. “You didn’t have to do that.” You murmur, voice emotionless, yet, it sounded so bitter, so unknown. After all, you had never been like this with Cairo.

But you force to look at her, tilting your chin up. She could feel the string between you two unraveling.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

You were already biting holes on the inside of your cheek, “You didn’t mean to break my robot?” The tone in your voice was almost sarcastic.

“It’s just that you didn’t have time anymore and I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. You and me.”

“And you decided to break my fucking robot that I’ve spent months working on instead of just telling me?”

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry.”

You close your eyes, try to steady your breathing, your voice softening. “You could’ve just told me. I would’ve came.”

Cairo saw the way you were spiraling, your body trembling from how overwhelmed you were. She stepped closer, yet you stepped away. “I can’t even look at you right now,” you sniffed, turning away from her. It was only then that she realized that you sounded like you were about to cry.

You head towards the door, opening it. “I should go. Don’t bother coming after me, okay? I.. I need some time to think.”

Cairo stood in the empty classroom as the closing of the door had echoed through her surroundings. She could’ve stopped, yet her lies would always bite back.

The next few days, the brunette hadn’t heard anything from you; no more silly photos of you, sleepy voice messages, stupid memes.

cairo 1:24PM: can we talk, pls?

cairo 1:24PM: i just want to talk and explain about what happened

cairo 2:13PM: y/n

Please don’t do this to me.

Cairo Sweet had always been reckless. She would’ve been the one to flee, to leave. Yet, you never know how much someone really matters till they walk away–and only then did Cairo realize that for the first time, she wasn’t the one leaving. You were.

You would’ve always came back, but Cairo took advantage of it. Pried on it. Took too many risks that the truth had came back.

Now, her kitchen was quiet, lacking the sound of laughter. Passing periods were boring, peeking the corner where your locker was to find that you’ve completely relocated where you walked.

She thought she could bring you back to her, doing this. But she had never felt farther. She was so close. But you caught her.

And Cairo would have to live with knowing that she had broken the one thing she had wanted most.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet x y/n #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #tara carpenter x y/n

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ceesimz · 9 months ago

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We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff!

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh, yeah, she beat my ass."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #mariona caldentey #woso one shot #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot

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shelbgrey · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I request some Alex Karev smut? If possible? :)

Dr. Feelgood(Alex Karev)

Paring: Alex Karev x Fem!Reader

Summary: after being forced to plan a 'prom' at the hospital for Webber's niece, Alex and the reader decided to go together. They had nothing better to do, but their desire can't go unnoticed.

Warrings: SMUT, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, pull-out method, sorta public sex?

MasterList ML2

“Everyone goes to the prom!” Webber shouts. “Everybody!”

And that's when we become party planners instead of surgeons, well we became that after the LVAD wire cutting incident, but that's not the point.

And when you have someone like me who never went to prom and someone like Alex who couldn't give a shit to help plane, nothing could get done quick enough.

Camille's friends just wouldn't shut up. Alex groaned and put his head on the table. The girls continued to ramble about colors and lights and Alex groaned louder like they were stabbing him.

“we could go all white” one the girls said, but then stopped when Alex made more noise of anguish.

“are you having a Seizure?” I asked, more annoyed with his groaning than the teenagers yapping.

“Will it get me out of here?” Alex asked, setting up. “Fine. Let's go with seizure”

Then after a while George got Bailey to help. She got every decoration down to a Tee and got everything ordered. I just didn't want to deal with this lovey-dovey crap. I just broke up with Derek Shepherd because I found out he was actually married, everything was just getting to me. Even a dying guy like Denny proposed to Izzie.

I could tell Alex had had enough of everything too. He blamed Izzie for our intern group's suspension and put on decoration duty, he was just pissed. I couldn't blame him, others might but I always saw a side of him no one else was. To be honest he was my person as Meredith would say… even if he looks ready to punch someone.

I let go of an unclosed balloon full of helium, making it fly towards Alex as it deflates. “Are you serious?!” He grabs the balloon. He was very agitated.

“Calm down, I'm just messing with ya” I told Alex.

“No! Don’t mess with me, have you seen these girls? These decorations! And now this!?”

I shrugged, already accepting our fate. I looked around as the hospital slowly turned into some prom nightmare. My high school prom was hell… If I had one, guy asked me and I ever really got the full experience.

“I really don’t want to be here. I can’t believe Webber forced us to do this because LVAD shit” Alex complained.

“No one wants to do this, but it's for the chief's niece” I said gently.

“Yeah, I know, but he forced the whole hospital staff to attend is stupid as hell”

I shrugged. I didn't really care about most things these last few months because of the Derek and Addison crap. I don't know what possessed me but it turned towards Alex. “you wanna go together tonight? need to be around friends” I don't know how I felt about Derek, but I wasn't ready to see him at his damn prom with Addison.

Alex turned to me, surprised. Like he hadn't expected me to say that. He thought about it for a moment and shrugged “Sure, why not?” he said with a smirk.

“Great,” I smiled.

--------(3rd pov)--------

The prom went off without a hitch. Y/n looked up at all the lights and decorations as her and Alex slowly swayed to the music.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is nice” Alex said softly as his hands stayed on her hips, moving to the music. He was enjoying every second of this, all because of her. And he felt like he was getting back at Derek for hurting her. He felt good just being with her, seeing her in a beautiful dress instead of those blue scrubs. Even the decorations weren't pissing him off anymore, just being there with her ment everything.

“Yeah…” I looked away from Alex to look at everything around us, all the lights and colors.

“what's up?” Alex asked, she looked back at him with a soft smile. “nothing… I Just never went to prom before”

“Really?” he was surprised, in his eyes y/n was beautiful and a pretty smart doctor. He assumed she probably had a ton of guys wanting her. And he thought Derek was a complete idiot for losing her.

She shook her head. “no one really wanted to ask me…”

“I would have…” He continued to sway to the music, not breaking eye contact with her. Alex looks into her eyes. She had the prettiest hazel eyes he ever saw and the more he looked the more he could see himself falling for her. He couldn’t help but keep looking, they were like pools of honey. It was a nice way to get his mind off of work and the LVAD wire cutting incident. His eyes were locked into hers. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

“I was one of those nerdy girls no guy was interested in…” she said softly.

He put his hand on her cheek. She was just so beautiful, he had never thought about her like this before. And now the whole idea of her seemed so new to him and it was making him like her more. “That’s ridiculous. Look how beautiful you are. I don’t know why guys did not ask you out… I don't know why shepherd was stupid enough to lose you”

Her heart pounded against her chest when he said that. She hid her burning cheeks and rested her head on his shoulder as he moved to the music. “I got bumped up a couple of grades because I was smart… I played D&D… I was the weird kid because I didn't want to go out and get drunk”

Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing. He playfully chuckles as they slowly danced around oh... “oh, you were one of those geeks,” he said playfully.

Y/n scoffed playfully, resting her head on his shoulder gently “playing D&D isn't the geekiest thing in the world…”

Alex couldn't help but smile at her reaction. He rubbed the small of her back as they danced. “I was on the wrestling team… Who am I to judge”

“Wow, a wrestler” she laughed softly and playfully into his shoulder. “yeah... I was in marching band, school newspaper... All that nerdy stuff”

“Marching band huh?” he teased her, he lifted their arms up and he slowly spun her around before bringing her back to his chest. “you were a band geek, who knew”

“who knew you could dance” she teased back.

He smirked at her, holding her hand and continued to dance with her with zero embarrassment. “Shut up” he said playfully.

“ya know… If we went to the same high school, I would have been proud to go to prom with you.” he had a serious look on his face now. He was not messing around anymore. His friends would have made fun of him but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t care.

Her heart fluttered as she smiled, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the hair at the neap of his neck. “I would have been proud to go out with you too... All of my geeky friends would have been terrified of you though” she joked softly as we swayed to the music

He smiled softly and wrapped an arm around her waist. The other hand is still resting on her lower back. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck slightly. “I was always the scary one.” he whispered. “But you’re not afraid of me now are you?”

She ran her fingers through his hair as he nuzzled her neck. “I never was”

He smiled against her skin and kissed it gently. “Good.” he whispered before pulling back to look at her. His eyes searching hers for something, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what though. There was just something about her that he hadn't seen before, it drew him in and made him want more.

Y/n smiled as she stared into his chocolate brown eyes. Deep down she always knew there was more to him than him just being a surgery hungry asshole intern that slept around with nurses.

“Would you believe me if I said I always had a thing for nerds like you?” he said in a playful tone, he wasn’t joking. He genuinely liked her intelligence. She was beautiful and smart and that's what Alex liked in a woman.

“I don't know,” she said in a playful tone. Alex lifted her arm up and gently spun her around then pulled her back to his chest.

He leaned in to nibble on her earlobe softly, they both continued to sway to the music so their conversation didn't look suspicious. “I’m serious.” he whispered before trailing kisses down her neck. He could feel her pulse racing under his lips.

Alex smirked against her blushing skin. He loved how responsive she was to him. He lifted his head slightly to look at her once more. His eyes searching hers. "Do you want me to stop?”

She looked him in the eyes and shook her head. “N-no…” she said softly.

Alex's smirk grew as he felt her hesitation turn into desire. He leaned in once more, his lips pressing against hers with a soft yet hungry kiss, making her heart pounded against her chest . His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss as her hand held his jaw.

The loud music masked the small moan that slipped past her lips as Alex's hands slid down her back, gripping her ass. Alex pulled her even closer, his tongue slipped into her mouth, dancing with hers in a heated duel. He could taste the sweetness of her lips and it only made him want more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, they were barley dancing now and the 'prom' was forgotten.

Alex groaned into the kiss, loving how responsive she was. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, making him hard against her body. He pressed her closer to him, rolling his hips in a small motion, making a small moan get caught in her throat. Y/n slowly pulled away from the kiss and rested her forehead against his, trying to catch her breath.

Alex closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he felt her against him. He wanted her so badly but he knew they couldn't do this here. “We should go somewhere else,” he murmured against her lips before leaning in to steal another kiss.

“Let's get outta here,” she said quietly.

Alex's hands never left her waist as he led her through the crowd, making their way towards an empty examination room. Once inside, he locked the door and pushed her against it, forcing a moan to escape past her. She tugged on his hair as his lips crashed into hers again, his tongue slipping past her lips as he devoured her mouth.

Alex's hands roamed up her thighs, hitching her dress higher. He could feel how wet she already was and it only made him harder. He slid his hand between their bodies, rubbing against her swollen clit through her underwear. “Fuck,”

“Alex” she moaned, her head falling back against the wall as his fingers danced around her most sensitive area.

Alex growled low in his throat, slipping a finger under the elastic of her panties to slowly push them down her thighs as he fell to his knees in front of her. He replaced his finger with his tongue, lapping at her folds and tasting her sweet nectar. She let out another moan, tugging at his hair and arching her hips off the wall.

Alex hummed against her folds, loving the way she responded to his touch. He suckled on her clit, flicking his tongue over it as he circled his finger around her entrance. He groaned when he felt how wet and swollen she was for him.

Her legs got wobbly and she arched her hips, moaning. “A-Alex…”

Alex kept sucking and flicking her clit, driving her wild with his expert tongue. He hummed against her, loving the way she squirmed underneath him. He placed his hand on her thighs, squeezing gently. "Shh...I got you, baby.”

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest as felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. “A-Alex, I'm c-close” she moaned as her head fell back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut.

Alex wanted her to come undone for him. He lifted up her leg and set It on his shoulder and sucked harder on her clit, swirling his tongue around it as he thrust his finger deeper into her wet heat. “Come for me,” He growled, not relenting until she did.

“Alex!” she moaned louder, tugging at his hair as she came undone on his tongue.

Alex hummed around her clit, enjoying the sweet taste of her as she came undone. He kept sucking and flicking until he felt her muscles start to relax. “Fuck, Angel” he groaned, pulling away slowly and kissing his way up her body as her fingers trailed down his body.

Alex kissed her deeply, she could taste herself on his lips. He pulled her closer, grinding against her as he grew harder. “I need you,” he whispered against her mouth. He quickly pulled the zipper of her dress down, making it pool to their feet. He lifted her up, pushing her onto the examination table.

“Take me” she grabbed his tie, pulling him between her legs. He slammed his lips against hers, the kiss was messy and rushed as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

Alex looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. He positioned himself at her entrance and slid in slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered against her lips before thrusting deeper.

She moaned, arching her hips against his as the pain quickly turned into pleasure. “oh, fuck”

Alex groaned, feeling her walls clenching around him. He started to move faster, his hips slapping against hers as he took her hard and fast. “That's it,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Shemoaned against his neck, digging her nails into his back. “A-Alex!” she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside her.

Alex cried out, feeling her tighten around him. He lost himself in the sensation, thrusting harder and faster as they became one. His hips slapped against hers in a rhythmic cadence that echoed through the room. “God, you're so fucking tight,”

She tugged at his hair. “Alex, I'm gonna cum!” she cried out desperately and tugged at his hair.

Alex groaned, feeling her inner walls pulsing around him. He slammed into her one last time, she cried out and bit his shoulder. He slammed into her one last time before pulling out, shooting his hot seed across her stomach and chest. “Fuck,” he panted.

Alex collapsed on top of her, their bodies sticky with sweat and each other's fluids. He nuzzled into her neck, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “That was... intense,” he murmured with a chuckle.

“A-amazing” she moaned breathlessly.

Alex grinned against her skin before slowly pulling out of her. He reached down and gently wiped some of his seed off her stomach with his tie, chuckling softly. “You're a mess,” he teased as he knelt down and picked up her jumbled up dress.

“It's your fault” she teased as Alex helped her step into her dress.

Alex laughed softly, his eyes trailing down her curves as he zipped the dress back up for her. “I suppose it is,” he agreed as he placed a kiss on her neck. “But I'd do it again in a heartbeat.” He smirked, pulling his shirt back over his shoulder, before he buttoned it back up he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alex pulled back and smiled back at her, his gaze softening as he studied her face. “You're beautiful,” he murmured before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. He savored the taste of her on his tongue, wishing this moment could last forever.

She pulled away, smirking. “who knew Alex Karev was such a softie”

He let out an airy chuckle. “only for you” he smirked, kissing her on the nose.

#Alex Karev #Alex Karev smut #Greys anatomy smut #Alex Karev x reader smut #Alex Karev x reader #Alex Karev imagines #Alex Karev smut imagines #Greys anatomy

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plaidos · 3 months ago

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An experience i had that made me like 100% more cynical with the way people treat trans women is when one time i got harassed in public for being a trans woman and my theyfab friend cried because they felt bad for not sticking up for me and i watched as my other friends comforted them and not me lol

TME people would rather be the idea of an ally to transfem people than actually be there for us, because it makes them feel woke like an expression of their deep and tortured soul.

what you’re describing here is basically the final form of the most common trans experience with TME people — when i came out, somewhere between half a dozen and a dozen cis women & theyfabs that i knew (i didn’t know many men at the time but they do this too) told me, if anybody ever gives you a problem i’ll give them a black eye! i’ll be right there for you, sticking up for you! i was told it so many times i even believed it. of course, when i actually was harassed by older cis men when i was walking home from school all of them who were walking WITH ME just totally ignored him even thought they outnumbered him like five to one. every single one of them froze up.

everybody wants to be a hero. everybody wants to be patted on the back for being such an amazing ally to trans women. but it’s just tourism a more marginalised experience. they don’t actually care about helping us, just about tooting their own horns. incredibly common experience. i’m really, really sorry that happened to you. you deserve so much more.

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erule · 6 months ago

Text

Twice

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!reader

Summary: you and Peter have been rivals for a lot of time, until one day everything changes. But it’s the same old story: you love him, he loves you, then you die and he doesn’t have the chance confess his endless love for you. Or is it?

Warnings: spoilers from Avengers: Endgame, reader is Tony’s daughter, Peter and reader are 18+ here, fluff, a lot of angst, enemies to friends to lovers, happy ending though

Word count: 2084

A/N: Hi! I just wanted to write something after a long time. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think in the comments, if you want 

Taglist: @imawhoreforyou, @blankspaceblankday, @sarahcameronswife, @belovedholland.

Main Materlist: here.

Twice.

I believe that things in life happen twice, like getting a job offer or falling in love. For instance, I fell in love twice. The first one was in high school, with my classmate, but he didn’t want me. The second one was with Peter, but he didn’t want me either. I guess that some things never change. Sometimes, if you’re very lucky, things can also happen thrice, but it’s rare that some trains pass in front of you. This kind of fortune never really occurred to me, that’s why I still think that things in life happen twice. When you don’t understand the occasion, it comes along again for you to see it and finally take it. Maybe that’s why I died twice.

But let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?

Did it never happen to you to die in a metaphorical way? Like when you feel a pain in your heart that doesn’t go away, a deaf heavy brick onto your chest. So you try to breathe, but every rib hurts when you try to do so. Well, this happened to me when Peter told me that he kissed MJ. I was his best friend, I should have been happy for him, but I couldn’t. The reason is obvious: I was in love with him. Common, right? You’re probably thinking that. Our friendship didn’t begin like that, though. We were rivals at first, even enemies sometimes, because my dad preferred to work with him and not with me. I mean, I had Morgan, my younger sister, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed him to actually see me. Now I regret it. Anyway, before we grew closer, I couldn’t stand Peter and he couldn’t stand me. We used to bicker all the time, until one night. One single night.

“Hi”, I said.

It changed my entire life.

“Hey”.

“What’s up?”

“I’m just hungry”, he replied, while looking into the fridge.

“Wanna know a secret?” I asked him. He turned in order to look at me. There was a spark of genuine curiosity in his gaze, but I was staring at his half smile on his face, a ghost of something that he didn’t use with me.

“Shoot”.

“The best food is not in the kitchen,” I replied. “It’s actually in my room”.

He grinned at me.

“Wow Y/N, I didn’t know you were this naughty. I thought you hated me. Turns out you just wanted something from me”.

I laughed out loud.

“You’re mistaken, Spidey. I just wanted to be kind, but turns out you’re a jerk. Goodnight, I’m gonna eat my marshmallows alone”.

“Wait, are you for real? True marshmallows? I’m coming,” he said and I smiled at him, truly happy. I didn’t have many friends at school, so I was glad to finally have somebody to hang out with, even if it was my rival.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate Peter, I just wanted my dad’s love, that’s all. Besides, it was impossible to hate Peter: he was the light when everybody came into the room. He made everybody comfortable and he reassured who needed a kind word. I admired him. Today I wouldn’t have treated him like that.

“I actually have one request,” I said, when he sat on my bed, while looking around.

“I knew it”.

“Spidey-sense?”

“No, I just know you, I guess,” he said and I felt a knot in my stomach. “Anyway, anything for you. I’m so hungry!”

“What if I’d ask you something terrible?” I asked him, while giving him some marshmallows on a plate. “What if you were wrong?”

Maybe I wasn’t talking about him, but about myself. I was so concerned not to be Tony Stark’s perfect daughter, that somehow I acted like that just so people could be right about me. Maybe I was just worried to be an evil person.

But he shrugged. Peter ate a marshmallow, looked straight into my eyes and said: “You’re not what you think you are, Y/N. Trust me, I would know”.

“Because you know me?”

“No, because of my Spidey-sense, you silly little girl,” he said and I chuckled. Then, his face became so serious it almost scared me. “You know, Ned warned me about you once”.

“Oh, really? Why?” I asked, while sitting next to him.

“He said that you’re trouble”.

“Trouble?”

“Yeah, like staring directly at the Sun. It’s kinda dope, though. You’re more like the Moon, but still. The Moon is so pretty and strong”.

“Strong? Why?”

“Yeah, because it takes courage to stay in the sky without anybody in the dark”.

“Oh, well, but the Moon has the stars. They’re like soldiers: they protect her”.

Peter looked at me while eating another marshmallow, as if he was really thinking about what I said, then he nodded.

“I agree. I can be your star,” he said. “I’ll protect you. From now on, we’re friends,” he stated.

I smiled at him.

“Thanks, friend”.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Oh, what did you wanna ask me?”

I didn’t actually have anything to ask him. Maybe I just wanted some accompany that night, because I couldn’t sleep either. His words changed me, though. I wanted to return the favor in some way.

“One day, I’m gonna ask you to promise me something and you’ll have to keep your word”.

He brought a hand to his heart and swore to do so.

“Okay”.

And that was the night I fell in love with Peter Parker.

Some years after that, when we were at university, he broke my heart when he told me he kissed MJ.

“Why do I feel like you’re not happy about it?” He asked me.

How do you explain to somebody that you’re drowning in your own thought? In your own blood, in your own bones. It’s like you’re disappearing, but you really don’t. You just wish you could.

“Because I don’t really like her”.

“You’re kinda the same person, actually,” he said and it really hurt me.

“What?”

“No, wait, I didn’t mean to…”

“If you think that you can replace me with her, you can do it. It’s fine,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

“Y/N! I didn’t mean to say that! I just wanted… I just… I don’t know,” he sighed, then I heard him sitting on the floor, his back on the door and his breath so distant from my skin. He stayed silent for a couple of minutes, that’s why I thought he went away. I could still hear his heartbeat through the door though, since I was with my back on it like him. “You’re irreplaceable, to me. I just wanted to say that you’re similar to MJ, that’s it. You’re two black cats. I’m sorry”.

I remained silent for some time, then I sighed: it was impossible to stay angry at him for more than two minutes straight.

“That makes you a golden retriever, then?” I asked and he chuckled.

“I guess so”.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him then and that I had been for years, but the words wouldn’t come up to my mouth. Besides, he was in love with someone else. We were just friends and it had to be enough for me.

“Hey, Peter?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I learned that stars that shine the brightest do that because they’re dying. I shouldn’t do that”.

“Do what? Shine?”

“Die,” I said. “You’re not allowed to die. Okay?”

“Okay”.

I didn’t know it then, but I’d have been the one to die.

Thanos was… a lot of things. And Peter was a lot of things to me. So when I had to choose what to do, it was simple. My Dad didn’t want me to be there, but I was on the battlefield. I saw people fight, die give everything they could. It was terrific. But I was there to protect Peter, because I knew that he couldn’t do that alone, despite him being so strong all the time. Because he was like me.

“Y/N?” He shouted, when he saw me. He was surprised and scared at the same time. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“I should!” I said, while I was fighting with one of Thanos’ soldiers.

“If anything happens to you, I swear…”

“Nothing will happen!” I said, while he was winning against some soldier.

“Mr. Stark will be very disappointed!”

Yes, he was.

“He’ll understand!”

No, he didn’t.

“Why are you here?” Peter asked me, while he was close enough to put his hands on my shoulders. I had an armor, but it was useless when he looked into my eyes. I melted like a silly little girl.

“You know why,” I said and I prayed that he understood it. My heart clenched.

He gulped.

“I don’t”.

“You shine brighter than me. I can’t allow you to die,” I replied.

“This doesn’t make any sense, Y/N. I won’t leave you here. I’ll take you home”.

“You will,” I said. “You have to. You promised. Don’t follow me. You have to keep your word, remember? If Thanos kills me…”

“No, Y/N, no…”

“If Thanos kills me,” I continued, “you won’t look for revenge. Is it clear?”

“Y/N…”

“Is it clear?” I repeated, determined. He nodded. “Good”.

You’re asking yourself how I knew that, right? Well, I didn’t. But I knew Peter. I knew that he would have followed me anywhere, because I would have done that too.

Then, everything happened all at once. My Dad saw me from the distance. He called out my name, but I didn’t hear him. I was disappearing. Peter looked at me in disbelief, too astonished to talk. That was me dying twice.

“Remember me,” I said, while trying to hug him, but it was like my muscles were too tired to even embrace him. I was slowly falling asleep.

“Y/N? Y/N?” He called. “I love you! I love you!” He screamed, his voice a desperate heartbreak into the air. “I love you!”

When my dad reached out to him, it was already too late for me.

***

When Peter came back from the cemetery, he didn’t expect to see Tony Stark at his university, after five years. He knew that Y/N came to the battle just to protect Peter, so he hated him because if his eldest daughter died was his fault. But now he knew what to do in order to bring her back and he needed his help to do it.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said, surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you here”.

“It’s her death anniversary, I know, but I had other things to do,” he said. “I know how to bring her back, Peter, but I need you to come with me”.

Peter shaked his head.

“I don’t understand: I thought that you hated me”.

“Y/N always said that nobody could really hate you and she was right”.

Peter smiled at him, his lips trembling.

“I broke up with MJ the day before the battle. I wanted to tell her, but I never got the chance. I thought that she didn’t want me”.

Tony put a hand on his shoulder, a warm smile on his face.

“There’s not a world in which she doesn’t want you, I fear”.

That being said, they were coming back to the past with the other Avengers in order to save Y/N and the people who had died because of Thanos. Tony was the first one to see Y/N coming back from the dead.

“Peter!” He called.

Peter turned and he saw Y/N. It was like coming back from a dream. She was finally back into his arms and he wouldn’t have let her go, this time. He dipped his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. It was so real it made his heart ache. If he could have exchanged his place with her in all those years, he would have done so. He would have done anything to make her live a normal life. Being without her meant not living, but barely floating on the surface.

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I’ve been for most of my life, actually. Since that night we ate the marshmallows together”.

He saw her bring her hands on her heart, tilting her head with tears in her eyes.

“And you’re my light, Peter. You always have been”.

Then he hugged her again and it felt like coming home.

#erule's masterlist #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction

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takes1 · 3 months ago

Text

libero!reader confessing to aone takanobu

apologies if there's more grammatical errors in this than usual; i wrote and formatted it on my phone while rotting in bed in order to self soothe and ignore cramps

warnings. none, sfw

details. fem!reader / aone fluff / setting friends up together / forced crush confession / a squabble / aone is a huge / libero!reader / date tech girls' team!reader / aone being shy / reader being shy / a bit of comedy / 2.4k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests open.

It was after school, at the end of a long and tiring practice, when things started flying off the rails and spiraling out of your control.

"So, you know how you said you had a crush on Aone?" One of your teammates began.

Of course you remembered; your team basically forced you to say it aloud for the first time at practice yesterday. It was only by accident that they realized, but a stranger would have assumed you told them you had superpowers or something by how excited they all got.

It was a lot of commotion for a secret you were more than comfortable keeping.

"Well, we thought it would be good to tell him. The guys will be here in a few minutes, so you'll have the chance."

Your heart started pounding again, like you were about to get back onto the court- Was this a joke?

"What?" The word slipped from you, dumb and toneless, as you glanced back and forth between members of your team for the punchline that never came.

"No, I'm- I told you I'm not going to tell him. That's not happening." You shook your head, but nobody was looking at you.

They were all looking to each other, like you had ruined their plans.

Your team captain shrugged, "If you're not going to do it yourself, I'll have to carry you."

Your body automatically lurched away from her grab, mind elsewhere and racing, but stumbled back into a few of your other teammates. When you tried to hide behind them, they lunged at you and successfully grabbed three of your limbs to drag you towards the designated delivery woman.

Was everybody part of this? Surely somebody didn't agree with a confession of this nature.

"No! No, nonono, please-!"

A loud, uncontrollable squeak cut your own words off as you felt your body getting lifted from the floor by multiple teammates, legs first.

Upside down, you could see the boys team filing into the gym from the door. That meant he was here. That meant they knew, too. None of the guys were ever here for practice this early. A rush of adrenaline clouded your brain and strengthened your tired muscles.

"Help me!" You screamed to your fellow libero- to your horror, you found that she was giggling under her palm. Even she was in on it.

"Get off of me!" Your pleas were worse than ignored- they were laughed at.

Perhaps they were laughing at this position you got wrestled into, instead. You prayed none of the guys, filling up the other side of the gym, were watching.

She had half your thighs, half your hips in her arms, groin-to-groin and dragging you backwards like a tiny wheelbarrow while you used your hands to grab at smooth wooden panels. It was useless except for making a screeching, squeaky floor sound.

When you realized you were creating zero fight with your upper body, you settled on making the sound worse by simply flattening your palms and begging.

The gym filled with the noise of your hands dragging: SKREEEEEEEEEEECHHHH-!

Under it, you kept on, "Pleeeeeaaaaase! Please!"

Some teammates called to you. Versions of 'It's good for you,' 'You'll thank us later,' 'You need to put yourself out there,' all fell on deaf ears.

If this was really good for you, you'd be doing it by yourself. You just weren't ready to face him. Maybe you never would be, and you were completely fine with that. It wasn't their decision to make. Not in the slightest. Putting up so much of a fight wasn't necessarily intentional, but you hoped that it would at least make a statement.

"Shit- Somebody help me get her on my shoulder, I'm about to break my back," Your Captain grunted.

"I got it!"

"I'm comin'!"

You tried to take advantage of the quick softening of her grip, making a scurry-like attempt to crawl away, but only got grabbed by the ankles.

With three girls, and a lot of yelling, you were hoisted up onto her shoulder. She took your weight like it was nothing.

You grabbed the first person you could, which happened to be your setter, and tried to rationalize as quickly as you could:

"I would never do this to you!! I'm not ready! I can't do this- please don't make me tell him- I've never done anything--," Your clammy, clenched fingers were pried, one by one, from her jersey by three other teammates, "-wrong!! N-o!!!"

You swung forward and hit her back, eyes cast downward at the floor that was now multiple feet away. There was nothing to cling to anymore. You hung limp on your Captain's shoulder.

Your team trailed further behind so as to not get nabbed, in 'support' of the whole ordeal.

They stood a few feet away to watch when you were at your destination.

"Delivery! For Takanobu," Was sung sweet and evil, even more-so when she patted you on the butt before setting you back down.

The thought to retaliate again crossed your mind, but when she straightened back up to six feet, you felt like a deflated balloon. That was a lot of struggle already. You wouldn't even win a one-on-one.

You were spun around, given only a moment to fully realize how big Aone was up-close. You never got within 20 feet of him before. Sure, you watched their games religiously and tried to sneak in some staring in class, but since confession was never your goal, there was no strategic advantage to being anywhere near him.

'Oh my god.' Was ghosted under your breath while she introduced you.

"--And she has something to tell you."

A little nudge before she backed away.

Your big, terrified eyes trailed up his big form, but instead of collecting yourself like you intended, you found ten other guys behind him watching, muttering to each other and snickering.

This was like an intervention, or at least planned out behind your back like one. Did everybody know? Did Aone know?

"She's- hahaha- so- Ha! Teeny-tiny!" From Koganegawa, who didn't try to keep quiet like the others.

That specifically bothered you, because he was just a big, dumb freshman who couldn't even set right. Your face grew warm and you wouldn't have been able to speak, even if you wanted to.

"Could you be quiet?"

Aone's voice was a shock not only to you, but everyone. He wasn't mean with his request, though his face would indicate he was immensely upset at his junior.

Futakuchi quickly ushered away the rest of the guys' team- yours followed suit, now aware of how meddling and rude they were, disinclined to be subject to another rare and firm sentence. It felt like everyone was beginning to be normal again and you were left dazed at how many conversations they must've had during the past 12 hours of your crush being public knowledge.

You had to skip the pleasantries since they had already been completed for you.

"How much-..." You cleared your tightening throat and gathered your courage again, "How much did they tell you?"

He had such strong, masculine features. You could see the way his lips naturally curled into a permanent frown, and how his mouth tightened more into a straight line when he was thinking.

"Not... too much," Was a quiet, empathizing response.

With his hands clasped politely in front of himself, he took a lot of his intimidation factor away. Unfortunately, it didn't help why you were nervous, now.

"Can we go outside?" You threw a glance over your shoulder to the giant huddle, 20 feet away, desperately still trying to listen to your conversation, "It's a little stuffy in here."

Aone nodded immediately and walked side-by-side with you out of the gym. It was cooler, and you felt less pressure to say anything now that you were completely alone.

That meant that it was silent, for at least a few minutes. You both strolled into the grass to get away from any threat of being listened to or watched. You stood watching the sun dip lower into the evening sky, listening to the birds, appreciating the quiet to gather your thoughts.

"I've liked you for a long time." You sighed.

You weren't looking at him, so it felt easy to let it go. He turned to you, and you braced yourself for the possibility of a polite rejection.

"I can't hear you," Aone said over the small breeze.

You hung your head with a grimace- great. You had to repeat yourself.

When you turned towards him, began your admission again, he made a face so you stopped short.

That's when he crouched down- your hands flew to your mouth to stop yourself from making too big of an expression. It was silent for just a moment before you both started giggling.

Aone was really cute when he smiled, and his laugh was even cuter- unrestrained, small but boyish and crackly. You tried your best to remember it well.

"I-," You sighed, hands rubbing together in front of you, "Really like you. I've liked you since freshman year."

Your confession didn't bring as much surprise to his face as revealing how long it had been going for.

"You're a second-year, right?"

You nodded, squinting a little at his oddly-timed question.

He looked past you, thinking again. As he did, his pale face grew redder and redder. You tried to keep yourself from smiling at how obvious it was when he was blushing.

Now he was quiet, "I'm sorry. I didn't know who you were before today--,"

It didn't hurt your feelings the way he implied it might. That was the point in dodging him for so long, so you felt validated in your efforts to keep it so lowkey.

"But-," He took a second to really look at you, all of you, making you hold yourself a little straighter, "I wish I had paid more attention."

You squirmed at his words and under his firm gaze. He made it really obvious where he was looking at all times, and his thoughts made perfectly clear with as few words as he could spare. If he didn't like you back, he would've said so already.

"I- would like to take you out, if that's not too forward," He quickly looked away, the color returning tenfold across his entire face.

Aone was still looking down as he gently proposed, "I know a cafe a few blocks from here we could go to. They have great croissants."

His voice was so even and low. He spoke slowly and quietly, like he'd scare you off if he sped up or said something with too much inflection.

After your whole episode inside, you didn't blame him for thinking you were twitchy.

"That sounds amazing," You covered your mouth with the side of your hand before you could smile too wide. Every word was a little breathy, since this whole conversation left you struggling for air.

"I'm sorry I never noticed you before," He mirrored you unintentionally, a hand rubbing lightly over his warm cheek, "...You're very pretty."

Your heart was beating so hard. Too hard. Your hands were trembling violently, the vein in your neck was pumping the way it did before a match. When you looked away from the ground, it was blurry and you felt warmth running down your face.

"Oh- I didn't- I'm sorry?" He reached out a little, but realized he didn't know what to do and took it back.

"I-I'm so sorry-," Your voice was conversational, but you sniffled and blinked, and all of a sudden tears were flooding over your face.

You laughed, looking around but not identifying much more than shapes and colors, "I don't know why I'm crying-!"

Aone laughed with you, confused but glad you were okay and supposedly in the same boat as him.

"You just make me so nervous," You confessed. It sounded tad too pitiful.

The statement made him sink a little into the grass. He felt guilty for making you cry and tried to mend it by using his jacket sleeves to help wipe your tears away.

"I know I look scary, but I promise I'm not--,"

"Ohh, no," You sniffled again, face still burning at his gesture, finally drying up a little, "It's not because of that. I don't think you look scary."

Your vision was returning to you enough to watch his interest pique. He looked confused, and you had already put everything on the table, so you began to explain.

The chance was fleeting, though, because a mixed crowd of both of your teams had stormed outside, surrounding both of you in a few quick seconds.

"Hey, you big brute! Back off my libero!" Your captain was loudest among them.

Aone stood up right away, but his confusion was worse now.

"Why're you making her cry, man?" Was Futakuchi from his team. "You told me you were down!"

The girls quickly circled you and cut you off from Aone. It was a different vibe entirely than what they had done minutes earlier.

Many hands were drying the rest of your face before you could say anything, pinching, grabbing affectionately and telling you to come with them to get away from here.

The guys were pushing on Aone, specifically Futakuchi, who seemed the most upset.

"What are you doing-?" You questioned, only able to resist the pushing so much.

If there was anything you had learned from today, it was that your team was full of incredibly strong women.

There was so much chatter, so many people talking over you and a lot of conversation you couldn't quite hear from the guys.

You barely caught Aone explaining, before you pieced together what was happening.

"We're going on a date tomorrow!" You shouted.

Everybody stilled.

Your eyes met Aone's in the midst of the quiet. You called it a date.

Now it was loud with celebration- your friends shook you, leaning down to show you their giant grins and tell you how proud they were. Confessing didn't feel good, but the payoff seemed worth it now.

You called it a date? You hoped that was okay.

The shoves from the male team were friendly now instead of malicious. They tried to pick him up, all shouting and chanting, but quickly abandoned the idea when they realized they would need more -and bigger- guys for a task of that nature.

You called it a date. Was it a date?

It had to be. He called you pretty, afterall.

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

#takesone #x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #aone takanobu #haikyuu aone #aone x reader #hq aone #aone takanobu x reader #takanobu aone x reader #takanobu x reader #aone x reader fluff #aone x reader hq

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spidybaby · 4 months ago

Text

Seat 332

Summary: The seat he always reserved for you, it's now hers.

Warnings: cursing.

Part two

You hug Aurora as the two of you jump happy.

"I'm so happy." Aurora says, tearing up a little bit. "I'm sorry, I need a moment." She says, walking out of the room.

You turn to face Gavi. He has the biggest smile anyone could ever have. He opens his arms, walking over to you.

You carefully hug him, head between his neck and shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, Pablito." You say.

He tightens the hug, kissing your forehead. "I'm happy too." He says. "I can't wait to be on the field again."

Gavi got the green light to start training on the training camp, not like the others, but finally, he's able to run, to juggle the ball, to be out.

"And maybe I'll be able to play against Sevilla." He smiles, a smile that might hurt later. "I can't wait."

You separate from the hug, grabbing his cheeks. "I'm going to be there for you, I'll be the loudest on the stadium when I cheer your name." You smile at him.

He moves his hand and places it on the back of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss. You don't waste one second and return the action.

"I kinda like having my own cheerleader." He smirks. Giving you another peck.

You laugh at his tone, grabbing his hand, walking with him to the living room. His parents and Aurora have smiles and tears.

Finally, after so long and after everything Gavi went through, he was able to go back to the field and do what he loved the most, play.

"We are so happy, mijo." Belen says, hugging him. "You are going back to play."

His father joins the hug. They were telling him how happy they were about his return, even when it was just to training.

It was a big step for everybody. After the times when Pablo didn't want to see anyone and used to cry himself out of the frustration of being in bed while his friends played. Horribly but played. (Don't fight me on this, last season was bad)

His family was grateful for your support to Pablo. You have known him since school, and your support was very important to him and to them.

You and pablo were friends, even when you looked like the typical couple. You never officially become anything other than his friend, and tell people that you were fine like that.

"Let's go out to eat." Pablo Sr. says. "We need to celebrate this big moment."

Pablo pulls you to the front door, intertwining your hands. Pablo asked you what you are eating. Naming you different things off the menu.

"I want a piece of cake." He says, opening the door for you. "Want to share?" He asks, passing his arm around your shoulders.

You nod to him, giving him a kiss. You were careful with the picture and places. You know that since you two aren't labeled, you don't want to deal with the fans.

You were fine letting people think you were Aurora's friend. You were thankful to have some pictures with them from when you were kids.

Fans have seen that and thought nothing of it. So they didn't really care when you were with Aurora at the games.

"We are going to Sevilla this weekend." Pablo says. "Want to join us?"

You shake your head no. "I have a lot of work to do." You explain.

He rests his head on your shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." He says, sighing.

Gavi's parents ask you about college. They were happy that it was going well for you. You wanted to be a physiotherapist.

They wanted you to succeed. They have known you since you were a child, and when you went out of your way to help Pablo during his recovery. They got closer to you and got to know you better.

He contacted you over Instagram. You two began talking, and then he invited you to a game. You, as a cule, said yes immediately.

You became closer to him because you two reunite at a common friend birthday party, it was after not seeing each other for a few years. You told him that you moved to Barcelona to study.

Since then, you got closer and started a small fling. You never cared that it was an in and out situation. He was an old friend and he liked you.

Pablo and you excuse yourselves. He has training in the morning, and you were going to help him with his therapy routine.

"Do you want me to help you with your exercise?" You ask, checking on him as he does what his physio instructed him.

He shakes his head no, trying to act tough and uninterested. "I'm almost done." He says.

You enjoy the show he's pulling. His face went from normal to a red one as he refused to ask for help. All that only to look cool for you.

You can't help but laugh at how his arms are shaking thanks to the effort he is putting into the exercise.

"Pablo, let me help you." You say, getting up and walking up to him. Grabbing the weight he's using. "Let's do it together." You say, kissing his temple.

You work out with him. Doing it slowly and helping him take the proper rest in between sets.

"You see?" You ask him. Leaving the weight on the floor. "A little help won't hurt you."

He chuckles, giving you a kiss. "Want to shower with me?" He asks, hiding his sweaty face on your neck.

You nod, grabbing his hand and walking upstairs with him.

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"Have you noticed that we are always placed in the same seats?" Aurora asks, walking with you around the now empty stadium.

"We do?" You ask, confused. "How do you know that?"

"I was checking the seating on the last few games. Don't ask me why cause I just did it out of boredom."

You turn, looking at where the seats are located. "Never noticed that. We can ask Pablo why is that."

"Ask me what?" Pablo says. He was behind you.

He grabs your arm, pulling you against his chest. You laugh at his roughness. "Pablo!" You say in between giggles.

"Pablo, careful." Aurora warns him.

Pablo shush Aurora, giving you a kiss. You feel him wrapping his arms around you. "What do you wanna ask me, guapa?" He whispers to you before returning to kissing you.

You separate. "I don't even remember anymore." You say, making him chuckle. "Ready to go?" You ask, making him nod.

You were taking them to the airport after the game. Even when he isn't ready to play, he wants you at the games.

He says that it's for you and his family to get used to him playing again. You love it when he includes you into his plans.

"Let's go, lovebirds." Aurora says, walking away from you. "We don't want to hit traffic."

You walk to the car, thanks to the wait in the stadium, there was not much traffic. You needed to pick something at Gavi's house before the airport.

"I'll be quick." Aurora says, running to the house.

Gavi was singing some song he had on the playlist of his recovery. He was focused on his phone.

You then remember what Aurora told you about the seats. You want to ask him, so you turn the music down.

"I just remembered what I wanted to ask you." You tell him, bomping his nose with your finger.

"A ver, dime."

"Aurora pointed out that we always sit in the same seats." You explain. "Why is that?" You ask.

He smiles, getting closer to you and giving you a small kiss. "I memorized where the seat was." He explains. His fingers combing your hair. "That way, when I scored, I know where to look. I know that you'll be there."

You can't help the big smile that you have. He was looking for you after every goal. After every asist, he knows where to look to find you.

"Seat 332" He says. "That's the one I always ask for."

You were about to say something, but Aurora joined the two of you in the car. She apologizes for the inconvenience of having to stop at Pablo's house for her makeup bag.

"Let's go!" She says happy. "I can't wait to be home."

You smile, happy that they got to go home. The rest of the drive consists of Pablo singing every song that plays and Aurora asking you to change the song because Pablo was ruing it.

When you got to the airport, Gavi helped his sister with the luggage. Telling her that he will carry them for her.

"I'll call you when I'm back." He says, putting his head inside the car. "A kiss goodbye?" He makes duck lips.

You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Have fun, bye."

pablogavi added to closefriends

You liked Gavi's story. Answering his dm. He let you know that he was still in Sevilla and that he was having fun.

You forgot to answer him. You were busy with some paperwork you were procrastinating. You needed to finish if you want to see him after he come back from Sevilla.

You tell him that you will be out of the radar for a few days, and when he comes back you will text him when you are free.

You spend your days working and going to uni. You had to study hard if you want to pass with a good grade.

Aurora told you that she gave your greetings to your abuelita and that she sent you something with Pablo.

You thank her and tell her that you'll talk to Pablo to get whatever she sent you. Going back to the books and the studying.

You spend more than you should without reporting you. Gavi went missing in action, too.

You didn't even notice, your phone was running in low battery from all the working and studying you are doing.

You were going back to your place, happy that you finally get to relax and to be free from all the books, all the papers and all the sleepless nights.

You find a very known car parked in front of your house. You get down of your own car, passing beside it like you didn't know.

"Hello, señorita." Gavi says, smiling with such pride. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."

"Oh, hi Mister." You follow his act. "Can you describe this person to me?"

"She's pretty." He began, taking his glasses. "Very pretty. She's a very smart girl, with beautiful hair and a very pretty shiny eyes."

You blush with his words. You love it when Gavi talks about you like that. It makes you feel some type of way.

"I might know her." You answer shyly.

He laughs at your red cheeks. He exits his car, walking over to you and hugging you. "I missed you." He whispers in your ear. Leaving a kiss there.

"I missed you too," you say to him. "Let's get inside. It's really hot." You wave air with your hand.

You grab his hand and open your door. You noticed he has something in his hands. You look at him with a doubtful expression.

"Your abu sends you this." He hands you the bag. "She mentioned to me that you need to open it and try it."

You thank him for bringing you what your grandma sent you. You even thank him for going to see her and spend time with her.

You spend the rest of the day with him, cuddle on the couch, and watch his favorite movies. He was telling you about his family reunion, his trips around Sevilla. Everything.

"What if we go out to eat?" He asks, kissing your hair. "I know I shouldn't break the diet, but I just want to go out with you."

You nod, kissing him and going to freshen up. You fix your hair and brush your teeth. Apply more lip oil and reapply perfume.

He drives to your favorite restaurant, he asks for a corner table, not wanting to he spotted or bother when he's with you.

You tell him about your last few days, how stressed you were, and why you didn't answer any of his texts.

He loves hearing you talk about your day, even when it was just a ramble of two things or about the same thing over and over but in different situations.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks.

You shake your head no. You want to even unbutton your jeans because of how full you feel. Even breathing makes you feel fuller.

"Then let me pay, and we are on our way." He says, calling the waitress to pay.

You two walk out of the restaurant. Gavi has a hoodie that he had in his car. He asks you if you want to walk around, you say yes.

"Mom says that when she's back, she will teach you how to make that cake you loved." He smiles, hugging you by the waist. "That way, when you learn how to make it, you can make it for me."

"I will make it for you whenever you want to." You kiss his cheek. "Stay with me tonight, yes?"

He nods, tightening the grip he has on you. You two pass a man selling single roses. Gavi bought one for you. Handing it to you and stealing a quick kiss.

yourusername has added to closefriends.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Alexa, your friend, asks you.

"I can't. Have something to do." You lie.

That thing you had to do was Pablo coming over to stay inside with you. He called you earlier and asked you to be home.

He was getting food for the two of you and wanted to see this new movie that he was too busy to see.

"Okay then." She shrugged. "If you change your mind, we are going to be at La Bodega. Text me." You nod, saying goodbye.

You drive home, listening to your shared playlist that Gavi created for you. That way, when you were together, the songs you liked were going to mix.

As soon as you get home, you clean the small mess you have in the living room. You take a shower to erase the sweat from the weather.

You decide to watch your show while you wait. Making time for Gavi to get out of whatever he's doing.

After a few episodes, you realize that Pablo was later than what he usually is. You check your phone to see if he texted you or something.

Nothing.

You sent him a text asking if he was okay. You want to make sure that it was just him being late, or maybe he got caught up doing something else.

After the first five minutes, you thought < maybe he's busy >

After ten, you started to worry. < what if during recovery, he hurt himself? >

After more than an hour, you decide to call him. The beeping of the line and the authorized voice of his voice mail made you even more worried.

You tried again. Nothing.

You calm yourself, maybe he got busy with something and couldn't come. Maybe he's in a meeting and you were interrupting.

You continue watching your show, trying to leave the worry away. He was fine. He has to be.

You get up and prepare yourself some instant Ramen. Your plans of waiting for Pablo are now long forgotten.

You didn't understand, but you didn't make it bigger. Two missed calls and a few unread texts were everything you did, and it was enough.

At one time, you turn your tv off. Walking to your room and getting into bed. You check your phone one last time, confirming that Pablo read your texts but didn't answer them.

He was going to explain himself later. It was all okay.

But... was it?

Pablo took not one day or maybe two. It took him five days before he showed up at your door.

You might think that after the texts, the missed calls, after you basically were dead worried about him.He was going to explain himself.

Thar he was going to give you the resume of what happened for him to be ignoring you like that.

But no, Pablo didn't do that.

He even asked you why you were blowing up his phone. HE was confused.

"Gavi, you told me you were coming and when you didn't. I got worried." You tell him, sitting next to him on the coach. "I even thought that maybe something happened to you during recovery."

He opens his eyes. "No, don't say that." He chuckles. "God, no."

"Then what happened?" You ask, hand on his cheek. "Tell me."

He thinks for a while, not sure what to tell you to calm you down.

"Aurora and Javi got into a fight." He says. "And I needed to be there for her. You understand that my sister was in distress and I wasn't going to leave her alone. I'm sorry I got busy, I really am."

You calm down, believing his dumb story. "No, you did the right thing." You say, caressing his skin. "I just got worried, that's all."

He pushed your head towards him. Giving you a kiss. "I'll make it up." He smiles, not worried Bout a single thing. "Now, why don't we watch that movie I told you about?" He asks, kissing you again.

You nod, letting the whole thing slide.

Oh boy, you were wrong for that.

After letting Pablo get away with that, he started to act differently. You blame it on him being stressed about the Sevilla game. Maybe he wanted to train extra hard and be prepared for anything.

You call him out for that. He apologized and invited you out. Insisting on going to dinner as a way for him to apologize.

He asked you to meet there since he was going straight up after training. He told you that the Mister decided for training to be in the evening.

You got yourself ready. Got your makeup on, your pretty hair well done. You got your nice perfume on.

All of that for him to be more than an hour late.

"Hey!" You say calling the waitress attention. "Can I get the check?"

She takes a look at your table, the empty bottle of soda, and your sad look was enough for her to feel bad.

"It's okay." She smiles. "It's on the house."

You thank her, already feeling too embarrassed to fight her for the check. You left some money for her, as a thank you.

You drive home, mad that you let this happen. You were expecting more from him, only to be let down by your own expectations.

You log into social media, trying to forget about your anger at him, only to find out a picture of him from only like thirty minutes ago.

gavirafan06

Liked by 763 others

gavirafan06 Gavi with a fan tonight.

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ferminxgavi wait is that the girl they are talking about on twitter?

gavirafan06 apparently they were out with his sister and his mom 🤔

masialover10 they say her user is @/antogmz but her account is private tho

He was out with someone else, and his mom and sister were with him.

You were waiting for him, and he didn't even have the decency of calling you and canceled the date.

You throw your phone to the bed. Went to the bathroom and did your skincare. You feel down, Gavi wasn't like that. Not with you.

You give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was a fan who was casually in the back or someone else.

You don't want to make assumptions. You want him to explain himself. Even when you already decided that he was innocent.

Aurora called you the next day. Asking you if you wanted to go out and have some lunch together. You agreed to meet her.

She asked you to pick her up, thing that you agree with, too. You got ready and drove to her brother's house.

You want to talk with Gavi, ask him why he didn't showed up, but you don't want to look pushy or like a bother.

You ring the doorbell. After a few seconds, you are greeted by Belen. She got happy to see you, hugging you and pulling you inside the house.

You make small talk with her, she mentioned how much she wants you to come over so you can learn those food recepies you always ask her.

"I promise that I'll make time to come sometime around this week." You say, waving goodbye at her.

Aurora and you walk out. She was happy to see you and be able to talk to you. You were happy too, she was an amazing friend to you.

"Are you coming tonight?" She asks casually.

You look at her, confused about what she's talking about.

"What's tonight?" You ask. "I've been busy, and I've been forgetting things, sorry." You say, pretending to understand what she meant.

"Pablo is hosting a barbecue. His friends from Sevilla are in town, and he wants to celebrate with them." She exolains to you. "You remember now?" She laughs.

You nod, smiling at her. You feel your stomach turning. Gavi got the friends you two have in common, invited them, and left you out.

"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" You ask her.

"You just did." She jokes, making you roll your eyes as you chuckle. "Go on, ask me."

"But, promise me you'll be honest with me." You say, frown in your face.

She stops eating to look at you with a serious face. "Of course. What is going on?"

You think the question a few moments. You don't know how to deliver it and make it sound like a doubt, and not like a desperate thing.

"Is Gavi seeing anyone?" You finally ask.

She starts coughing. Lifting her hand for you to give her a moment. "Sorry, I ate too quickly." She lies.

You hand her the glass of water, trying to help her pass the food. "You okay?"

She nods, gaining composure. "Sorry, yes. I am." She says, drinking water. "Why are you asking me that?" She asks back.

You shrug. "He's been kind of ghosting me." You explain. "And I don't want to hurt myself and think that maybe what we have is going to work and then find out that he is seeing someone else."

She softened the expression on her face. "Y/n." She sighs. "Pablo likes you more than he cares to confess." She says, grabbing your hand. "Believe me when I tell you that he only thinks about you."

You smile at her. Happy with her answer.

"He's been busy." She excuses him. "With all the training and him wanting to be as ready as possible for the match, I think he's been out of the blue."

You nod, understanding that he was worried about his comeback. Busy with his own life and trying to make it out as if.

"Well, I'm calmer now that you tell me that." You smile at her. "Thank you." You say, squishing her hand.

You go on with your day, the bright smile you have on your face was something nobody was taking away.

You drive Aurora home, asking her to tell her mom that yoh will be back to learn everything she wants to teach you.

You then drive back home. You need to finish some projects. You texted Gavi, letting him know that Aurora told you Bout the barbecue and asking if he needed anything.

He only texted that he would come over to talk.

You don't pay mind to that. Finishing with your homework and even using the free time to do some upcoming projects.

You don't notice the time passing by, until someone knocks on your door. You check the time. It was 5 pm.

"Hola," you smile at Gavi. Moving to the side to let him in. "Before you say anything, Aurora already told me that you've been busy and very tired and I totally understand why you forgot about dinner."

He frowns, not even understanding what you meant by that. "Okay." He says, shrugging. "Talking about Aurora, you told me she invited you over tonight?" He asks.

You nod happy. "She did. That's why I was asking if you needed me to bring something."

He scratches the back of his neck. Trying to find a way to say what he was about to say.

"Are you oka-" You were asking, until you got interrupted by him.

"You can't come." He says. The serious tone of his voice makes you shiver.

You frown. Looking at him not understanding.

"What?"

He sighs. "You are not invited." He says, looking annoyed. "Aurora wasn't supposed to invite you, and frankly, I don't want you there."

You feel the knife stabbing you in the heart. He didn't want you there. You stayed silent for a few minutes.

He's trying to read your blank expression, but he can't.

Your vision becomes blurry. "Oh." You whisper. "Okay."

He feels bad about hurting your feelings.

"Y/n, list-"

"You should go." You interrupt him. "It's getting late, and you'll have people over." You say, walking to the kitchen.

You don't want him to see you cry, but you can't help the sob that scapes your lips. That makes him feel even worse.

"Preciosa, listen." He tries one more time.

"No, Pablo." You turn around mad. "You need to leave." You say, stern tone. "Now!"

You clean your tears. You refuse to cry in front of him. You don't want to show him how much this situation is affecting you.

"Why are you so mad?" He asks, exasperated. "You act as if you are my fucking girlfriend." He shouts.

You pass from the sadness to anger in one sentence. Your fight mode activates.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, trying to hide the angry sob that scapes your lips. "I'm sorry that I act as if I'm someone you treat me like. I'm sorry I'm crying because I genuinely thought that you cared about me, and now I'm realizing that you don't. "

He rolls his eyes. That only makes you feel so much fury.

"I do care about you." He says. "But fuck, I never told you we were a thing. You assumed things up, and now you are blaming me for it."

You let out a laugh. "I assumed?" You ask. "I assumed things up when you called me all those nicknames? Huh?" You start pointing out. "I assumed things up when you held my hand, kissed my lips, slept over in my bed? Huh?"

He's silent, knowing that there's no going back from here. "Liste-"

"No!" You shout. "Did I assumed things up when you were fucking me?" You ask, the bitter tone is evident. "I gave you everything, Pablo. And you can't even give me a decent excuse. Are you really blaming me?"

"Did I asked you to give me all that?" He asks.

That simple question makes you understand everything. Your energy got all down. You don't even want to keep talking.

"You are right." You nod. "You can leave now, message received."

He stops the hard frown that's on his face. He softens his look. What he just did was not what he wanted to happen.

He wanted for you to understand that he never wanted something serious, but he let it go for more than he should.

And even when he does like you, he can't be with you like he wants to. He needs to keep his distance, and you are making things more difficult than it should be.

"Go, please." You beg, trying to hold the tears. "Enjoy your party, and I hope you enjoy playing again."

You walk away from him. If he wanted to stand there, you weren't going to see it. You slam the door of your room.

You place a pillow on your face, yelling the frustration on it. Shutting the scream that your heart was letting out.

Gavi left, slamming the door on his way out. He cursed everything that was on his view radar. Blaming himself and his stupid boy mind. But not enough for him to turn around and do the right thing.

You cry into your pillow. You are hurt and confused about why he was acting like that.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who brings you flowers just because.

He wasn't your Pablo, the one who takes you out on dates and walks after training because he misses you. Even when he saw you before training.

He wasn't your Pablo.

But not even Pablo was your Pablo.

You feel tired and falling asleep during the crying process.

When you woke up with a headache and puffy red eyes, you know it wasn't a dream. Gavi just told you that he doesn't see you the way you see him.

You got up, walked to your bathroom, and washed your face. You shrugged and decided to take a shower.

Your day began good, you even had some fun time with Aurora. Who would've thought that I was going to be the last time you did that.

You slowly do your night routine, trying to feel better. As if that's what you need. You order take out and decide to eat it while watching your show.

When you get tired, you open your Instagram. The first post is a story Gavi posted. You click on it and enter his profile, unfollowing him.

You think for a second. Angerly deciding that you were not only going to do that but also blocking him in the process.

You went then to your feed, refreshing it after a while. It didn't have anything good for you to engage.

You move to Twitter. The first thing you find is a tweet about this girl named Antonella. She apparently was Gavi's new fling.

You read through the tweets, finding out that she was the girl that the Instagram comments were talking about.

You read that someone mentioned her Instagram account. Deciding that it wasn't enough pain for one day, you went back to Instagram. Searching her.

You click her profile, noticing something very interesting. She follows you. You clicked on "follow back" requesting to follow her.

You don't have to wait that long after she accepts your follow request. You go straight to her posts, stalking her like a crazy fan.

You find something very interesting. Gavi liked and commented on her posts. But that didn't really surprised you.

It was Aurora's likes and comments on her page. Commenting like she knew her from all her life. You were closed to the two of them, and you can't remember anyone with that name or that looks.

You click on her story, only to find out why Gavi didn't want you at his barbecue.

antogmz has added to her story

You know Pablo a little too much to recognize him. And even if you have a little doubt about it, the background gives you all the answers.

He was at his house. He threw a party with all the friends you thought you two shared. But they aren't your friends if they know he's with someone else and decide to hide it from you.

You block your screen. Tired of going out of your way to make Gavi someone so on top of everything. You can't keep putting him before you. Not anymore.

What hurt you the most was that Aurora knew about it.

You can't blame her for siding with Gavi. She's his sister, so it was obvious that she was going to prioritize him over you.

But when you asked her if Pablo was seeing someone else, she denied it. Telling you that he likes you and that he only thinks about you.

She lied to you, giving you fake expectations.

You blink the tears away. You don't want to cry. You already feel dumb enough to keep humiliating yourself for him.

After a while, you open your phone again, you don't want to think about him. You start to see the insta stories of your friends.

That's when you see the one from Aurora.

aurorapaezg has added to her closefriends.

You see the tags on her story. It was everyone. The only one who wasn't invited was you. And you can't get mad, the sadness overpowering every feeling.

You tried to distract yourself, checking your feed again to see what's happening. Maybe finding a funny video or something. But no.

You click on that one picture even when you know it was going to hurt.

gavixpedri

Liked by 2,284 others

gavixpedri New picture of Gavi and his alleged girlfriend @antogmz in his Barcelona home.

There's rumors that she's going to be at the game against Sevilla. If that's true, then this will confirm their relationship.

Gavi and Anto have been linked up since a few weeks ago. People from Sevilla mentioned that he was seen with her on different occasions.

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gavilover9 I thought aurora's friend was his girlfriend

gavixpedri No 😭 she's only a friend after all

barcamessi10 this is the hardest launch I've ever experienced 😭😭😭 he was in recovery a few weeks ago and now he has a girlfriend

gavixpedri I knowwww 😔 we missed a lot of chapters. I stayed at the one where Y/n and him were allegedly a thing 😭

This was from the same night that he left you waiting on the restaurant. He was with her.

You try to stay as low profile as you could. Gavi tried to contact you over text and tried calling. You left all his messages go to voice mail and made sure to mark as read all his texts.

You were coming back from Uni when you found that particular car parked in front of your house. You take your keys out, walking without stopping.

You were about to walk inside your house when you felt an arm pulling you away from the door.

"Just give me five minutes." He begged.

"No!" You say, stern tone. "Let go off me." You order him.

"Four?"

"Let go off me, Pablo." You say again.

"Only one, please. I'm begging you." He beggs.

Those stupid puppy eyes he has are making the devils work. You can't say no to that, and he knows it.

"I'm counting, so you better start talking." You say, lifting your arm to see your watch.

He let go of your arm. "I'm fucking sorry I ever spoke to you in that way." He says, words coming out of his mouth as if he was rapping some Eminem song. "You are someone I find really important to me, and if I ever gave you the impression of liking you is because I really do. I just don't want to hurt you." He pauses to take a break.

You pull your arm down. "Ironic, cause you did hurt me." You say, trying not to sound so harsh.

"And I really regret everything. You are my friend and I shouldn't have played you like I did. I really want you back in my life. I just don't know how to work as a partner. That's why when you never asked me to label our relationship, I was fine with it because you were too."

"Did I ever tell you I was okay with that?" You ask, interrupting him.

He shakes his head no. "I'm sorry."

"Fine, apology accepted." You say. "Now, your time is over. Have a nice day, Pablo."

You were about to turn, but his hands stopped you. "I have this for you." He says, handing you a pass.

"What is this?" You ask confused, not taking it in your hands.

"It's a pass for tonight's match." He smiles. "I'm finally playing, and I want you there. You helped me in my recovery, and I can't thank you enough." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I know I'm an asshole, I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please, please come to the game." He says, begging again.

You look at the pass in his hand, not sure if you should take it or not.

"Please, at least take it and think about it." He says.

You nod, grabbing the pass from him. You then turn back and walk into your house. You close the door after you.

You look at the pass, it says your number and your seat. < Seat 332 >

Just like always.

You left the pass on your table. Not quite sure if you should go. What if his friends and family looked at you weirdly over you coming to his game?

You shake that idea out of your mind. Gavi's family loved you. Maybe not as his partner, but as the girl who helped him during his worse times.

And that was something nobody was taking from you. Ever.

You try to not think about the pass. You clean your house, you cooked lunch, you watch your show.

You even take a shower, something refreshing.

When you open your closet, you see the jersey. Mayne ut was a sign. Maybe you should go.

You take it as a sign for you to go. You changed into something appropriate for the game. You apply some light makeup and walk out to the stadium.

You were late, and you got into the stadium thanks to Gavi's pass. He asked beforehand for you to be allowed to get in, even if it was only a few minutes left of the game.

A security officer walks you to the vip section. You thank him for allowing you in, he just nodded and left.

You walk into the vip section. Standing over at the doors of the door that's dividing the seats from the lobby.

You noticed that Gavi was about to get subbed in. Everyone on the section was standing and clapping for him.

You can hear people chanting and screaming his name. Everyone was happy about it.

They were all too excited that people didn't really take a seat during the last eleven minutes of the game. That's all that Gavi played, including extra time.

People clapped at the fact that Barca won five to one. You can feel the tears in your eyes.

The longest eleven months of your life. At the same time, those months were short when it came to helping Pablo recover.

Pablo was looking over at the section you were in. People are still up, slowly seating down because it is the vip section. People don't just walk away.

Then the people that left are gone, and people are seated back. You were about to walk into your seat but you noticed something.

She was in your seat.

You look back at the field, finding his eyes on you. You move your eyes from him to the seat. Where she was waving her hand trying to get his attention.

You feel your vision getting blurry. Understanding that it wasn't your seat to take anymore.

It was hers.

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 🤍

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anonymousewrites · 11 months ago

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Prologue

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Summary: Saiki gives everyone the rundown on his "bothers," including (L/N) (Y/N).

Mouse Note: Welcome to A Not-So-Disastrous Romance! I am very excited to share this story with everyone, even if this fandom is very old. Truth be told, I wrote 11 chapters like three years ago, so the first few chapters don't have the level of writing I have now, but I ended up finishing this story and wanted to share it. For another point, I know that people view Saiki as asexual and sometimes aromantic, but I feel an affinity for him being asexual but demi-romantic, so I play it slow-burn. That being said, terrible beginning writing aside, I really hope everyone enjoys. Let me know what you think, commenting helps me keep writing, and I love interacting with people! Welcome to the story!

Quick Key: "Hello" -Saiki speaking telepathically Hello -Saiki thinking "Hello" -regular people talking out loud Hello -regular people thinking

Saiki teleported to the roof to avoid Teruhashi and Nendou. One was troublesome enough. Two was insupportable.

“Where’s Saiki? Huh? What’s going?” wondered Teruhashi, confused.

I teleported without thinking. Saiki looked down at the crowd below him. People around me didn’t seem to notice me, but naturally, Teruhashi thinks something is strange. Well, Teruhashi, just think I was an illusion and forget about it.

“Nendou!” remarked the pretty blue-haired girl upon seeing him.

“Oh, wow, Teruhashi!” squeaked Nendou, blushing.

“Have you seen Saiki?” asked Teruhashi.

“What? My pal? No, I haven’t.” Nendou was too startled to think.

N-no way…did he disappear? thought Teruhashi, Is it possible that I was the one seeing an illusion? She recalled what she had assumed of Saiki: “You’re so much in love with me that you see illusions of me, huh?” A light blush spread across her face. Don’t tell me I’m…No! I can’t be… She clutched her heart. Oh, no…What’re these feelings? Is it possible…that I fell in love…with Saiki?

Oh, wow, thought Saiki as he deadpanned. This is not how he wanted things to go.

He sighed and teleported to a nearby, empty alleyway. Sighing, he decided to go for a coffee jelly. With the new problem he had just acquired, Saiki decided he might as well enjoy a little bit of peace. He walked quickly in the opposite direction of Nendou and Teruhashi, even if it took him on a long route to Café Mami. For once in his life, he was lucky and didn’t bump into anyone on the way there. His luck ran out, however, as soon as he entered.

“Saiki!” called a teenager with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. They were grinning and waving.

He couldn’t avoid them now; it would draw attention to him for being rude. He sighed and sat down across from them.

This is (Y/N) (L/N). They’re another troublesome person who complicates my life. They even call me their friend and insist I use their first name. The worst part is I can’t read their mind. They aren’t dumb like Nendou, though. Do you see those earrings?

(Y/N) had simple, metallic studs in their ears.

They’re made of germanium, which apparently keeps me from seeing through them with my X-ray vision or hearing their thoughts with my telepathy.

He had only realized this after he saw them during school and on the weekends and the only thing that was the same between the outfits was their earrings. Saiki wished he could get his hands on some germanium. Hearing everybody’s thoughts was tiring. That being said, (Y/N) being unreadable was…disconcerting.

“Nice to see you, Saiki. Are you here for your usual coffee jelly?” asked (Y/N) cheerfully.

The pink-haired psychic nodded. Yare yare…Why do I hang out with you?

“Oh!” They brightened. “I guess since you’re kind of like my guest right now, I should treat you!”

Saiki’s eyes widened in excitement. Ah, I remember now. (Y/N) treated him to, well, treats. That made them more tolerable than other people.

Seeing his expression, (Y/N) laughed. They knew what he was excited for. “You’re more excited to see the coffee jelly than to see your friend.” They didn’t mind, though. They knew Saiki wasn’t one for being open or friendly, but they’d spent enough time with him to know he’d just leave if he really didn’t like him.

He wanted to say that they weren’t friends, but even he had to admit, he thought they were pretty tolerable compared to most of the people who crowded around him. Sure, their bright optimism was sometimes exhausting to Saiki, but for the most part, they were pretty low-maintenance and understood he was an extreme introvert and liked time to himself. Plus, although they were energetic at times, but they understood when things were too much for Saiki. And, to be completely honest, he didn’t mind getting to be around someone he couldn’t hear the thoughts of. He could act like a relatively normal person.

Saiki would never say all that, though. No way. No, the only thing he’d say was, “Coffee jelly is really good.”

“Can’t argue with that,” admitted (Y/N).

Their server, who coincidentally was Mera (probably trying to make money as usual), approached their table. She took their orders and headed to the kitchen to alert the chefs.

“You look more annoyed than usual, what happened?” asked (Y/N).

Saiki sighed. They unfortunately pay attention to me and can read parts of my emotions. It’s weird. Maybe they’re an empath. “I ran into Teruhashi.”

(Y/N) laughed. “The only guy immune to her charms.”

“She brings too much attention.”

“You’re friends with Nendou and Kaidou. A bit of attention is inevitable,” teased (Y/N), leaning on their hand and grinning.

“They’re not my friends.”

“Uhuh, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” chirped (Y/N).

Mera brought their orders. Luckily, she hadn’t stolen a bite from either of the coffee jellies.

“Mmmm,” hummed (Y/N) and Saiki contentedly at the taste.

Peaceful relaxation with (Y/N). Just the way I like it. Saiki sighed happily.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

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sigma-alpha-writer-chad · 4 months ago

Text

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four

[CHAPTER THREE]

Italics = Events taking place prior to the "present day" of the story!

It had been a quiet day, so far. That morning was easily one of the best I'd had in who knew how long. Everybody had been leaving me alone. I was grateful for the peace and quiet, though I couldn't relax fully. Somebody had to be planning something. Despite the thoughts, I wanted to have a good day.

I really wanted to have one good day.

The cafeteria was big. Rows of long, rectangular tables were filled with middle schoolers chatting about their day and eating their lunches. Some had home packed lunches filled with goodies they could trade off for something better or in exchange for cheating off homework, and some children had the school lunch. It was pizza today. Square pies with cubes of pepperoni on them. Many people didn't like them but they were always one of my favorites.

I looked around me. I couldn't see anybody who would've wanted to pull something on me.

I couldn't see Josh.

It had been years since anyone else had done anything to me without him participating or sort of approving it. If he wasn't at school that day, I would be free for the day. It was the only explanation I had that day for the lack of terror I'd faced.

I stood in the line for the pizza and spotted my cousin, Chris, and his friend Ashley. I called for them, and they allowed a bunch of kids in front of them to move towards my spot in line.

"Hey, cousin," Chris greeted me. "Last year of lunch together, huh?" He was one year my senior, meaning next year he would be in high school, a building separate from mine. "Is that why you seem to be in such a good mood?"

"Yep, you keep saying," I responded as a grin grew across my face. "Poor Jordan, without her big cousin around. Whatever will the humble 8th grader-to-be do?"

"Celebrate?" Ashley chimed in. "No more Josh, right?" I smiled wider and nodded. Chris made a face at Ashley for bringing it up. He obviously wanted to say something, but didn't. We moved forward in the line.

"I can't wait to have some peace," I admitted. For a moment I wondered what it would be like. Would the teasing and pranks really stop, or would they just be exacted upon me by someone else? I shook the thoughts from my head, but not my smile.

"Josh isn't that bad," Chris defended. "He's my best friend. Why are you so mean about him?" My expression faltered slightly.

"Why is he so mean about me? Why are you always on Josh's side?" I retorted. "You're no better, really. You're just my less mean cousin." I crossed my arms. Day ruined. "I'm tired of always being the one who is upset and ruins everything when you guys are the ones who upset me in the first place." Chris's face turned red in embarrassment and frustration, and I could tell he felt guilty, as well. He pushed up his glasses.

"They're just jokes! It's not my fault you're just a cry baby 7th grader and nobody likes you." I frowned, hard, and my appetite was no longer.

"Where is this coming from?" I asked, tears brimming my eyes. Chris was always sensitive yet defensive in 8th grade, quick to bite if he felt cornered. I tried to remember what my mother had told me about when people are mean to you for no reason - that they feel bad about themselves. I could see Chris's expression drop when I started to cry. At that point, though, it'd meant nothing. Time and time again he or Josh or someone else would make me upset, he would feel bad as soon as I started to cry, and then do it again the next week.

I left the lunch line and made a beeline straight for my homeroom class. Mr. Brown would allow me to just sit at my desk during lunch if I'd wanted, so oftentimes that's what I did.

He greeted me as I entered, but said nothing else as I went to sit down. He was the only teacher who seemed to understand I didn't like to talk about the pranks pulled by my peers, especially because the school would do nothing about it anyways.

"Somebody left something for you in your desk," Mr. Brown said. His expression was soft and mildly worried, likely due to the obvious tears I had running down my face. "Should we look together?" My lips pressed into a thin line as I nodded and my heart rate picked up. He stood up and made his way towards me.

"Who left it?" I asked warily, standing up as to not be trapped if water sprayed out of the desk.

Again.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "They were in and out pretty fast. Had a hood up." He placed his left hand at the edge of my desk, where he could lift it up. "Ready?" I nodded, and he slowly lifted the desk.

It was a flower.

Mr. Brown and I stood completely still for a couple of seconds. I sniffled and slowly moved my hand away from my chest to reach for the white flower. It was a daisy. My favorite? Mr. Brown's eyebrows raised and gave way to an expression of delight as I picked up the daisy to show him.

"Is there a note?" He asked, peeking over the wooden top of my desk.

"Uhm..." I leaned forward to look back into the desk. There was a pink piece of paper folded about a million times to be as small as possible. This failed miserably, the paper being too thick to even stay closed. "Yeah, I think so." I took it out and observed the parchment.

"A secret admirer!" Mr. Brown gasped dramatically. It suddenly occured to me how nosey and curious my teacher was. My face grew hot as I opened up the pink letter. "What does it say?" I shot him a look. He put his hands up and backed away. "Ok, I get it." He teased and went back to his desk with a small smile on his face. I looked down at the pink note in my hands as my heart pounded in my chest. Was it really a secret admirer? Or another dumb prank?

The handwriting was atrocious.

'Jordan, I saw this flower outside and I thought it was pretty and maybe I heard one time it was your favorite so I picked it for you. Don't get the wrong idea because this isn't a secret admirer and nobody likes you that much, especially not me.'

I was taken aback by the note. What kind of a note was this? I thought back to one of the animes Chris likes that he'd made me watch. There was a really mean girl who was very mean to the boy she liked to hide her feelings. Was this the same? I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration, confusion, and flattery. I would have to show Chris later. I put the daisy inside the letter and waited for the day to be over.

---

Chris and I sit on the floor of my bedroom, chatting about his previous trips to the lodge and what it would be like.

"A lot of drinking. Like, so much. Josh and I usually pass out at least once," Chris babbles excitedly. Even though he seemed very hesitant at first, he'd quickly come around to my invite. "I'm actually really happy you're coming. The twins are stoked, y'know?" I smile at him, and he continues on. "They're the ones who started the idea. Everybody comes up and spends a few days at the lodge and we all just party. This will be the second or third year without parents though, I think."

"I feel like that's a safety hazard," I sigh, laying on my side and propping myself up with the palm of my hand. "What if someone gets hurt or goes missing?" Chris shrugs.

"Then we do what we can and we call the police," he states. I shrug as well. I wasn't satisfied with that answer, but I understood that no parents meant more freedom and fun for us young adults. I scoot a little closer to him, a mischievous smile creeping across my expression.

"So... No adults, at all?" Chris side eyes me suspiciously, not bothering to turn his head.

"No... Why?" I know he knows what I'm about to say.

"No reason, just... Y'know, Ashley." He smacks both of his hands over his face in embarrassment, his face growing redder by the second.

"Oh, my God, Jordan, not you too," he sighs in annoyance. "I really like Ashley, I really really do but can't we talk about anything else for once?" I smile wider and shrug.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Josh," My smile immediately fades. Chris shifts to match my position, laying his chin on his hand and laying on his side. "Let's talk about Josh."

"Why do you want to talk about Josh?" Chris has a small smile on his face as he shrugs, mocking my previous body language.

"I was surprised when he took you to the bathroom," he admits. He rolls over into his stomach, his jaw on both hands now as he kicked his feet behind him like a gossipping school girl. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah, I think he was just high, though," I say, chewing my lip. I can feel the tips of my ears redden. "You saw how he acted immediately afterwards, didn't you? The daggers he was glaring when I got invited to the lodge were sharp, man." I raise my eyebrows and move to mirror Chris.

"Daggers... Of love." He wiggles his eyebrows and makes a kissy face. I roll my eyes so hard it hurts.

"Ok, you watch too many soap operas or something," I laugh. My cousin sighs and rolls his own eyes. "Would you stop copying me?"

"Would you stop copying me?" I go straight faced and stare at him, hitting my swinging feet on the ground with a thud. He does the same, and a staring contest ensues. I squint. There's no way I was losing this. Time slows down, but luckily for me, I could already see Chris's eyes begin to water. I'm tempted to reach for his glasses slowly and take them off his face when his phone rings and he instinctively looks away, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Technicality," he groans as he stands up.

"A technicality is still a win," I gloat. I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. "Who is it?"

"It's your boyfriend," Chris teases.

"My abusive boyfriend," I snort. "What does he want?" he puts his finger up in a gesture to wait as he answers the phone.

"Hey man, what's up?" I mouth to Chris telling him to put the phone on speaker. He glares at me and mouths 'nosey,' tapping himself on the nose. I sigh dramatically and wait. "Yeah, I'm just at Jordan's house... Uh huh. Yeah. No, I'm spending the day with -" Chris sighs in frustration. "I'll ask her." I perk up. "Do you want to get pizza with Josh?" my eyebrow raises in suspicion and look Chris up and down. He rolls his eyes. "He only wanted me to come but I told him I'm not leaving you and so he's extending the invitation."

"Does he promise to be nice?" Chris puts the phone on speaker.

"Josh, do you promise to be nice?" he asks. There's silence before Josh laughs. A smile tugs at my lips, though I'm not sure why.

"Yes, Chris, I promise to be nice to Jordan." Chris looks at me, waiting for my response.

"Fine," I sigh dramatically. Chris smiles and gives me a thumbs up.

"Niiice, see you soon." Josh hangs up. A silence hangs between Chris and I. He sets his phone down and looks at the ground, twiddling his thumbs as if he's nervous, like he's about to say something he shouldn't.

"He doesn't hate you, you know," he says. I look up at him, but he doesn't meet my gaze. "I'm... I'm sorry, for... betraying you so often when we were kids." This takes me by surprise. Chris had changed, being kinder to me as we grew older, but I never expected an apology.

"I forgive you, Chris," I smile and stand up, giving him a hug. He hugs me back tightly and he lets out a breath he had been holding. "Don't apologize for Josh, though. He's not sorry."

"Still, Jordan, I meant it," Chris takes a step back, putting his arms to my shoulders and bending down slightly to look me in the eyes. "He doesn't hate you." I didn't know what to say.

"Chris, I don't know what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything. Let's just go get pizza. It's within walking distance."

"But it's cold outside."

"You have a coat." I groan dramatically as we start to leave, grabbing my coat.

---------

Chris opens the door for me as we walk into the pizza joint Josh had told us to meet him at. It was a homey, diner-like place with booths lined up against the walls for seating, bar stools at the bar, and a few circular tables for larger parties. In front of the bar was a sign that read 'seat yourself.'

"Looks like we beat him here," Chris mumbles. "Where do you want to sit?"

"A booth, by the window." I answer, walking ahead of him to take a seat at an empty booth near the back. Chris sits across from me and I furrow my eyebrows.

"What?" He asks. I don't want to tell him I'm worried Josh might sit next to me, so I shake my head and tell him nothing. A waitress comes to the table and lays a menu down. "Oh, we'll be a minute, we're waiting on somebody."

"Okay, hon, sure thing," she winks at Chris as she walks away. Chris shrugs off his thick coat to fall around his waist.

"Bro she wants you so bad," I say. Chris sighs, but he's smiling. "Hubba hubba." It had been an inside joke since our teenage years that every waitress or waiter wanted him. Of course, they didn't usually wink.

"Dude, guaranteed wife." He says, running his fingers through his hair dramatically, shaking his head. Suddenly the seat next to mine sinks, someone taking a seat next to me. Chris's eyebrow twitches in surprise and amusement.

"Hey, fellas," Josh grins, rubbing his hands together. "Pizza time? Did you guys order?"

"No, we waited for you, dude," Chris says. "I'm thinking just pepperoni, personally."

"Can we add some bacon on this bad boy?" Chris agrees, and both he and Josh look to me for an answer. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me rather intensely and gulp.

"Yeah, that sounds good." I smile. Josh tilts his head as if to see my face better and I feel my face grows warm with confusion and embarrassment. I ignore him, though I can tell he notices my flustered state by his wicked grin. I look at my cousin across the table, and his expression is that of surprise and curiosity. The waitress comes back, and we order.

Josh and Chris talk about the lodge. Past years, plans for this one. I feel a tinge of nerves and excitement. Everyone included talks so much about it, I don't know if I've ever done anything so hyped up. I'd never been to any huge events before, nor small, fun sleepovers with anyone other than Chris.

"So, Jordan," Josh snaps me out of my thoughts, bumping into me with his shoulder. I look at Josh, keeping my head tilted down shyly as I look up at him. He looks back at me, and I can see something in his expression I can't quite name. "Do you drink, or are you lame in that aspect, too?" He laughs and bumps me again. I frown.

"It's not my thing. I don't like being... Compromised?" I furrow my eyebrows, trying to find the words to explain myself. "I don't... I don't want there to be any opportunity for me to be taken advantage of in any way." There's many meanings to this for me. Someone could easily pull a cruel joke on me, film me vomiting and post it online, take me to the bedroom. Josh's smile fades.

"Is there anyone in particular you don't feel safe around?" He asks. I see Chris's eyebrows raised in surprise as he listens in, his eyes moving between Josh and I quickly as if anticipating what would come next. I'm surprised, too.

"What do you mean?" I ask, shifting in my seat uncomfortably.

"If someone is making you feel unsafe they're not invited." Josh states. His eyes are widened slightly and He's staring at me with an intensity I've never seen before. He's dead serious. I scan his face quickly. "Just say the word, Jordan, and it's done." I gulp.

"I-"

"Here you go, kids. Pepperoni and bacon, fresh out the oven! Be careful not to burn yourselves," the waitress says. She's very peppy and beautiful, a heavyset woman with curly brown hair draped over her shoulders and lipstick that was much too red for most, but perfect for her. We offer our thanks as she walks away. I glance back at Josh, who seems to have completely forgotten the intensity he was just showing me at the mention of my discomfort. Chris looks just as surprised as I am.

The pizza looks and smells amazing. The pepperoni was still sizzling, the grease popping. Chris, Josh and I are drooling and I realize just how hungry I was. It seemed torturous now to have to wait for it to cool down to avoid injury.

"Anyways, Jordan," Josh starts. I look at him again. "You don't have to drink, or whatever, even if it does accentuate your... your lameness." I frown again. "But no matter what, if anyone makes you feel unsafe please let me know... I've got no tolerance for that sort of thing."

"Do you promise not to prank me over the trip?" I ask, moving so that my body is facing him as much as it can in the booth. He does the same, straightening his posture as our knees touch. He doesn't move away from me.

"What?"

"Because that's my biggest concern, Josh, honestly," I admit. He seems taken back, glancing at Chris as if for help. "I don't want to wake up with my mattress in the woods or with a snake in my bed or rats in my coat pockets." I try to sound stern. Josh makes eye contact with me and doesn't look away. I almost shy away, but I hold. His eyes scan my face, for what I'm not sure. But it makes me nervous.

"Guys, you're freaking me out," Chris gulps. "Can we please just eat the pizza?" Josh's lips form a thin, straight line and he sighs, finally looking away from me.

"If it would make you feel safer and more comfortable and have more fun," Josh starts, placing his right hand over his heart and raising his left. "I will not pull a single prank on you." Chris's jaw drops. I open my own mouth to say something, and Josh puts some pizza into my mouth. It was hot, but just cooled down enough to eat. "Now eat." His face is darker, a light red dusting his cheeks. As I take the pizza from Josh, Chris and I lock wide eyes, the both of us shocked.

"Thank you," I say. Josh shrugs, his expression one of frustration and mild embarrassment.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't think too much into it," he sighs, his head turned away from me in an attempt to hide his expression. "Just don't want you to freak out and ruin the mood for everybody else." Instead of my normal frown, I smile to myself. This time, I had the feeling that he really was just trying to hide that he cared about me just a little bit - even if it was solely because I was his best friend's cousin. The number one sign that this was the case was still evident as I glanced under the table at my thighs.

Our knees were still touching.

-----------

Hey y'all, thanks for your patience waiting for the update. I work a LOT and on my one day off I'm busy, too. I try to have at least 3k words per chapter, so it takes a bit longer. Anyways, thank you!

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest

#josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x you #joshua washington #until dawn #until dawn x reader #x reader #fanfiction #this is an x reader just didn't want to write “y/n” a lot

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sabsturned · 7 months ago

Text

M. Sturniolo - Three Doors Down

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comment on this post to be added to my taglist :-)

pairing: matt x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of a drinking and smoking parent, crying

summary: you and matt used to be best friends. you were closer to him than anyone else you know, and you’ve always secretly had a crush on him. the day you told him, you guys stopped talking. tonight was prom night, and you had no guys or even friends to go with. all you could do was sit in the corner and watch him dance with his girlfriend, sofia.

a/n: first fic!!! i’m rlly excited about this one. it’s based off of the song ‘three doors down’ by joy. this was my shit in 2022 and i don’t get why it wasn’t talked about more. ALSO I HAVE A QUESTION: what are anons??? also please leave requests for fics!! i’m literally out of ideas. THATS IT!! enjoy the fic :))

key: matt y/n sofia

and i’m in the corner

dying of boredom

catching light from the shine

of his girlfriend’s tiara

me and matt were best friends. me and the boy three doors down. i mean, the best word to describe us was inseparable. we hung out all the time—at school, at home, over the weekends, at parties—everywhere i went, he went, and everywhere he went, i went.

it started when we were both eight years old. i was trying to avoid my mom at all costs because when she drank, she got mean. i went outside, picking all the small white flowers out of the ground. maybe if i gave my mom flowers, she would cheer up, and she wouldn’t hurt me. at least that’s what i thought.

i picked a yellow dandelion, adding it to my bouquet of flowers when i saw a boy around my age riding on a skateboard. he was riding it on circles in his driveway. suddenly the only thing my eyes were looking at was his curly brunette hair. his eyes were a beautiful color of blue. not as deep as an ocean, but not as light as the sky. all i knew was that they were perfect and they consumed me. his cheeks were a shade of red, probably because of the humidity. i’ll never forget the way he looked at me for the first time; the way his eyes lit up, the way his smile widened, showing off the dimple on his left cheek, the way the world around us faded.

his hand slowly moved up, waving at me. my smile grew. i waved back.

whenever my mom started drinking, i just went outside, where he was every afternoon on his skateboard. he tried teaching me to ride it, but i wasn’t very good. we played in his backyard with his brothers and their dog, trevor. sometimes they brought out their sprinkler on a really hot day, and we all just played like kids. i would give anything to be a kid with them again.

when we were in the same homeroom for third grade, we were both ecstatic. we were always partners in group work, always played together at recess, always ate together at lunch. everybody always made fun of us, and assumed we were dating or something. but we didn’t care.

everything was perfect. up until eighth grade. ever since me and matt met, i’ve always kind of liked him. i never really had the courage to tell him, up until the day before our eighth grade dance.

i confessed my feelings for him. i didn’t say much really. i just told him i liked him and asked if he wanted to go on a date. but i don’t think he felt the same.

he said he was busy.

all contact was cut after that. no more late night calls, no more weekend sleepovers, no more study sessions after school.

and it’s all my fault. i ruined everything. if i wouldn’t have said all of that, we wouldn’t have been here. we would have still been friends. we would have gone to prom together. we would have been falling asleep on call together. we would have still been as inseparable as we were when we were kids.

all of this was my fault.

now i’m at prom. the speakers blasted a pop song i don’t know the name of. all of the kids in the room were dancing, jumping around, making out in the bathroom, but i was sitting in the corner.

i would have gone home, but i was trying to avoid being near my mom at all costs. so i was just there, dying of boredom.

i caught a glimpse of her tiara. the plastic gems glistened in the dim light of the room. how was sofia able to wear cheap plastic on her head and still manage to look absolutely beautiful.

i’m so jealous of sofia. she’s a cheerleader. she’s skinny, she’s pretty, she won prom queen, and worst of all, she was matt’s girlfriend. we have had some interactions before, and i hate talking about her negatively because she is so incredibly sweet. like i’ve never met a popular girl so nice. it made it harder to hate her the way i wanted to.

her silky straight hair ran down her back, and her wide smile could light up a whole room. her dress was fabulous too. it was a really pretty shade of lavender, and it was sparkly. it complimented her figure so well. i mean, she looked like an absolute goddess.

her hands were wrapped around matt’s neck as they danced to the slow music playing. it hurt so bad. i should be over matt by now, i mean, it’s been four years. but i wasn’t over him. i wasn’t over his curly brunette hair, his beautiful blue eyes, the dimple that appeared on his left cheek whenever he would smile. i wasn’t over our late night phone calls, our weekend sleepovers, our study sessions after school. i wasn’t over him. and i never would be.

watching them dance together made me sick. the eye contact, how touchy they were. i decided to go get some punch to distract myself. i wanted to go home so bad, but a broken heart was less noticeable than the burn mark of a cigarette.

the loud music drowned out the sound of the punch splashing into the red cup. i turned around to go back to the corner i was sitting in, when a tall figure bumped into me. thankfully, i didn’t spill any punch on my dress.

“oh, sorry. i should have been watching where i was-“ my breathing stopped when i realized who i had just bumped into. his curly brunette hair, his beautiful blue eyes. matt.

“that’s alright-“ he stopped talking when he saw me. “oh, um, hey.” he said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“hi.” i responded.

“you look.. amazing.” he complimented.

“oh, thanks. you too.”

“are you having fun?” no. not when she’s the one you’re dancing with. not when i’m still thinking about you even after all these years.

“yeah, just hanging out with my friends. a night to remember.” i lied.

“yeah.” he laughed.

there was a moment of silence where we just looked at each other. the first time i’ve looked in his beautiful blue eyes in years. the first time we’ve had an interaction in years.

“hey baby, they’re playing my favorite, c’mon!” sofia ran over, grabbing chris by the arm, giving me a small wave before dragging him back to the dance floor.

“nice seeing you y/n.” he voiced, before him and sofia continued dancing together.

i tried to say something back, but nothing came out. i forgot how to speak, i forgot how to breathe. before i knew it, the tears were already falling out of my eyes.

i needed to leave. thankfully, i only live a few blocks from the school, so i could just walk home. the only thing i could think about was how i just needed to be anywhere else but this school.

i shoved open the doors, walking out into the cold rain. it was pouring outside. normally, i really liked rain. me and matt used to lay in the rain together. it’s where we had our most meaningful conversations, and shared our deepest thoughts. but i wasn’t enjoying it right now. every drop felt like cupid pulling an arrow out of me. i rushed home as quick as i possibly could, the rain soaking my hair, and the tears rushing down my face. i actually couldn’t even tell if i was crying anymore. the rain made it hard to tell.

i was able to sneak past my mom so she wouldn’t see i went out. i ran up the stairs and into my room, quietly shutting the door behind me. i let out loud sobs into my hands, my rain soaked body dripping rain into a puddle beneath me. i looked up and saw the picture we made in fourth grade art class together, my sobs growing louder. i looked next to it. a signed baseball from a game we went to together sat on the shelf, along with a scrapbook of our seventh grade summer. suddenly, my room was filled with memories of us. i need to destroy it all.

i took the canvas off of the wall, grabbing my scissors and stabbing it until you couldn’t see the picture anymore. i took the scrapbook off of the shelf, ripping out the pages, cutting them into small pieces. i grabbed the baseball, opened my window, and threw it. i didn’t see where it landed. i was just glad it was out of my sight. i ripped the cards and gifts he made me for my birthdays, and christmas, and valentine’s day, ripping and cutting them up. then the stuffed bear he got me. my favorite animal. i cut that open, ripping out the stuffing. until nothing else was left. i sighed, my sobs growing louder.

i looked down and noticed my heels, stained with punch. the rain should have washed it off. the punch reminded me of him. i must have missed when it fell out of my cup and onto my shoes. i kicked them off, throwing them under my bed.

i looked down at my dress, noticing the color of it. it was the same shade of blue as his eyes. his beautiful blue eyes. i groaned out loud, ripping my dress off and throwing it in my closet. everything reminded me of him. the clothes i wore when we hung out, the sheets we laid in, the desk he sat at while we talked for hours, the rug we sat on when we played board games, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the window, everything. it was like he was a memory that i couldn’t get rid of.

but maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. maybe we aren’t meant to have late night phone calls. maybe we aren’t meant to have weekend sleepovers. maybe we aren’t meant to have study sessions after school. maybe we just aren’t meant to be. maybe he belongs with sofia. maybe we aren’t supposed to be together, me and the boy three doors down.

angst is one of my favorite things to write. it’s so therapeutic to me. so i hope you enjoyed this and please give me your feedback in the comments! :D

- thanks for reading!! with love, sabrina 🤍🎀

taglist:: @muchloveforhacker @saartjuhh @anonymousmfs @mylove4lana @chrissfavhoe @sturniolo101 @h3arts4harry @hereforthwtripletsfr @pepsixchris @ch3rrywine-reposts @amaliarosewood @gwennybenny @memea32221 @urfavstromboli

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bugboysgf · 2 years ago

Text

Me?

Summary: You transfer to KISS for the the semester to be closer to Kitty but somebody catches your eye….

AN: I just finished xo kitty an hour ago and looked on tumblr for fanfics but i couldn't find any so i wrote one myself. (kinda rushed so don't judge)

“Okay we should share this room together” you look up from your phone to see Kitty sitting on the bed.

“Okay cool.” you huffed. You were so nervous you've never been miles away from your home before.

“Be happy your parents let you go this semester, it's a big deal.”

“I know…. I just don't speak Korean and I'm here. You've been here for one Semester already and you basically know everybody I transfer in the middle of the year.”

“But you were sad that you couldn't come to korea with me and my family now you are here coming to school with me.'' Kitty tried to get you to look at the bright side.

“Okay fine, so when can I meet your friends?” you asked

“Right now actually I'm pretty sure Min Ho, Q and Dae are at the dorm. You already met Julianna and yuri.” she grabs your hand and leads you to the boys dorms.

Your heart was beating the whole time, you had trouble making friends at school. Last semester you were all alone. Kitty was in Korea and she was your only friend. You were happy that you could be together now.

Kitty opens the door of the dorm and you both walk in.Then three pairs of eyes were on you. You kept your head low avoiding eye contact.

“Kitty! Your back!” a guy with curly hair hugs her. When they stop hugging he looks at you.

“Q this is y/n.”

“Hi nice to meet you.”

“Hi” you gave him a small smile. You notice another guy hugging her and you could tell who it was straight away, it was Dae.

“Good to see you in person and not a photo.” he smiles.

“Good to see you too Dae.” you said

“Please tell me you're not annoying like kitty is.” you look at the guy talking, he must be Min Ho, he's the only one you haven't met.

“I- l- don't think i am?” you say more as a question. The first thing you noticed was how attractive he was, you knew you couldn’t like him, you promised not to focus on boys. You look at a Kitty and you can tell she's on it already. She knows, she always knows.

“One thing I can say for certain is that you're prettier than a Kitty.” he looks at the Kitty with a shit eating grin.

“Haha, so funny.” Kitty glared at him “and don't flirt with my friend.'' Kitty flicks him off as he walks back to his room.

“He wasn't flirting with me” you came to his defense.

“He definitely was.” Q said.

“Sadly she doesn't know what flirting is, the last guy that flirted with her she said he was being nice but he was checking her out and telling her how pretty she was!”

“He was just being nice!”

—-

It wasn't a secret that you knew nothing about guys or how to talk to them. The only thing you knew about love was reading Harry Styles fanfics in the 6th grade. But Kitty knew everything she was a love expert and she only had one boyfriend. She makes you believe that the right one could be anywhere you just have to believe.

“Okay i'm ready.” you came out of the room. Kitty looks at you and frowns.

“Yea no. You are not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with it?” you look down at your outfit. You thought it looks good for the welcome back party.

“Did you forget that Min ho is going to be there? You can't show up with that on. You need something that makes a statement.”

“I've only said like three words to him, he doesn't like me.”

“Oh trust me he does, i've never seen him look at somebody like he does with you. Now change into this.” she hands you one of her dresses. You hold it up in the air, you couldn't say no to kitty she doesn't take no for an answer anyways.

—

“I can't believe I'm wearing this and I look good.” you said fixing your dress.

“Told you. He's here…look!" Kitty pointed to Min ho. “I'm going to leave now” Kitty got up from her seat when Min ho started walking towards you.

“Kitty what, no.” you tried to stop her while she was already walking away. You started to panic how were you going to talk to this attractive guy, that is way out of your league.

“Is anybody sitting here?” Min Ho said.

“Here? Oh no. no one. Sit.” you said a little too quickly, you were shaking your leg to try to calm down.

“Are you okay?” he put his hand on your thigh, you didn't answer, you looked at his hand on your thigh then looked back up at him. Your eyes were wide, heart beating faster than it was before.

“Oh sorry” he took his hand off of your thigh “So why did you come to kiss?” He continue talking like nothing happened.

“To be closer to Kitty she's like my only friend and also she said it was nice here so…”

“I mean it is, if you ever want me to show you around i could.” he offered. You shook your head and laughed. “What is it?” you could tell he was sort of offended.

“Nothing Kitty just told me you were a pain in the ass, but you're actually nice.”

“Of course, nice to pretty girls like you.” he smiled. Kitty told you that he thought he was the hot shit, and you hated that in guys but for some reason you just found yourself attractive to him.

“Thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” you nudged him

—

2 weeks later

“First A+ of the semester.” you danced with kitty.

“And we did it together.” kitty said “hows you and Min ho by the way, you haven't been talking about him”

“Nothing, I think we are just friends but I don't really know when somebody likes me.”

“I see it he definitely does just go for it i mea-” kitty stops talking when she sees you looking at a text on your phone “your smiling it's him!”

“I have to go tutor Min ho bye.” you grab your backpack and open the door.

“Remember what I said!” Kitty yells.

“I will!”

—

“Done” Min ho hands you a paper. You look at the paper and realize most of the answers are wrong.

“Min ho you forgot to subtract.” you told him, you've been telling him this for the last 3 days and he keeps forgetting.

“Sorry I keep getting distracted.”

“Is it your phone? Turned it off.” you reach for his phone but he grabs it before you can.

“No it's this girl.”

“A girl?” you look up at him not sure what to say next.

“Yes this girl, i want to ask her on a date but i'm not sure if she likes me. She gives me mixed signals. What should I do?” he asks.

“Oh um.” you know right now you need to not sound jealous. “Just ask her out, if she says no then she's missing out.”

“Alright… will you go out with me?” you look at him stunned.

“Me. why?” you say confused you're not sure what to say, nobody has ever asked you out before.

“Because I like you.” He says like its so obvious.

“Me? You like me? Is this a prank?” you look around to see if people are looking at you but nobody is.

“No? Why would it be a prank? Do you not like me back?” “I do.. I've just never been on a date before.” you confessed.

“Then i'll be your first.” he smiles and holds your hand.

#min ho #xo kitty #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #Netflix x reader #xo kitty x reader #netflix #why is he so hot I can't

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testrella · 9 months ago

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CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 |CHAPTER TWO : rare sighting.

NEXT… CHAPTER THREE : just..friends!

“you scored a 0% on a true or false quiz,” you slide the paper across the desk towards megumi. “which…came to a surprise to me as you don’t usually score this low. but it’s been happening so much i decided to pull you aside.”

you sat quietly at your desk, it was time for school dismissal but regardless you stopped megumi before he could leave. you watched his gaze be fixed onto the floor as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“a 0%..? a few more of those and i guess i’ll have to be kicked out of this sch-”

you interrupted him, “if a person wearing a blindfold were picking answers on a true or false quiz at random, do you know what score they would get?”

megumi’s eyes flickered down at his paper and back at you. “..50%.?” he remained silent until it finally clicked for him, “w-wait wai-”

“exactly, which means the only way to get all the answers wrong,” you write a 100% on what used to be a score of 0% onto his paper, “is to know what answers are right.”

megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly out of embarrassment, and looked away from you. he had some nerve trying to fail your class on purpose.

you soften your tone before speaking again, “you want to give up but i’m not going to let you.”

megumi finally built up the courage to look you in the eye, his expression was a mix of guilt and shame. “it’s just a stupid quiz miss. l/n..” he muttered.

“megumi fushiguro, i will not allow you to fail. you have potential, so use it.”

megumi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie to properly fit his collar, as he recalled one of the earliest memories of you. it was about the third time he’s ‘fixed’ his bowtie, only for him to undo it and try again.

the elegant dining hall in the hotel was full of live music, soft murmuring from the people attending and clinking of silverware. there were government officials, professional sport players, and well known clans from all of japan. a small dinner hosted by gojo that was only supposed to be a sign of his gratitude turned into an elite party posted on all the newspapers.

despite his nose being filled with smells of his favorite dishes, and his ears listening to his favorite band perform downstairs, he couldn't help but be nervous. you were told it was going to be a small dinner but there were news reporters outside the hotel. there were the regular common folk outside the gates as well, hoping to get a glance of the life of being an elite. no matter how prepared you thought you were, you weren’t prepared enough.

you sit across your friend from her dining table. the both of you attended the same university back in the united states. the difference is that you were majoring in education while she was getting her doctorate within two years as a foreign exchange student. to say her strive for excellence consumed her entire life was an understatement. it had been so long since the two of you had a chance to reunite, with her busy running a hospital at 26 and yourself being busy settling down in japan.

“so i have dinner tonight with one of my students' guardians,” you mentioned as you took a bite from one of the side dishes provided to you. her home was no doubt worth over 90 million ¥. the floors were a clean and white marble and the walls seemed to stretch so high it could reach the clouds. it almost looked like a hospital, how ironic.

“i’m really excited since the dinner is to be hosted in the grand hotel in central tokyo.” you mentioned.

suddenly, the servants that rushed from point A to point B stopped, your friend dropped her fork into her soup and the dogs stopped barking. it goes dead silent and the only noise heard was your slow chewing.

“y/n.. did you just say you’re having dinner at the gojo grand hotel? you know, the one everybody in japan has been talking about?!” shoko whispered-yelled.

“uh- yeah, mr. gojo invited me to-”

a servant puts herself into the conversation, “the gojo satoru personally invited you to attend?? how do you come across him so casually! they say he’s japan’s bruce wayne, never seen in public unless its-”

“unless it’s for business. someone like you would’ve never come across him! neither of us would except ms. shoko..” another chimes in. by now everyone is looking at you and whispering comments. with the limited information provided, you assume mr. gojo was a rare sighting, like bigfoot.

“do you not know who satoru is? do-does she not know?” shoko asked around, slightly laughing at the confusion written all over your face. shoko takes a sip from her wine as she rubbed her nose.

“you’re going to the gojo clan’s resort dressed like that?” she teased and everyone around you let out a muffled giggle.

you looked down at your casual attire. “what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”

shoko grabs you by the arm, pulling you out from the dining room. “come with me. you’ll thank me later but you cannot go looking like that.”

you find yourself going in and out of her walk in dressing room, and being rated how how flattering the dress fits you.

as you’re changing out of one of many dresses, shoko mentions gojo again. “you know, him and i go way back.”

you turn to her, “mr gojo?” you suck your stomach in as she tightens the back of another dress. “i’ve never heard of him.”

“of course you haven’t, you foreigners know nothing about japan’s elite.” you watched her from the mirror in front of you, her eyebrows knit together when she’s tying the back of the dress.

“japan’s elite?” you questioned.

“satoru is from the gojo clan, one of the richest and old money family in japan. his family owns like half of

japan,” your mouth slowly gapes open as she reveals this information. “they say when you stand next to satoru, you’re nothing but an ant compared to him.”

shoko pauses to admire you. the dark navy floor length dress flattered you in all the right places. it was certainly something out of your tax bracket.

“he’s apart of the most influential family ever.” she whispered. in a way, she wanted to warn you of what you’re about to step into. it’s a different world than the one you’re living in.

“how do you know him then?”

“we met back in high school. he’s the only reason i was able to attend school overseas.”

you looked back at her, “what do you mean?”

“he paid for my tuition.” she smiled.

your face goes pale. if it weren’t for your full ride scholarship, there wasn’t a chance in the world you’d be where you are now. standford wasn’t exactly the most affordable option.

suddenly, your stomach starts turning and flipping in ways you didn’t want it to. it was nerve wracking.

“y/n, don’t be nervous about attending the party. sure, he has a shit ton of money but he’s still a humble guy deep down.” you snort at the last comment. how could someone as rich as him be humble?

“i think i’ll feel a lot better if you came with me shoko.” you face her as she cups your face with the gentle care you’d give a wilted flower.

“i guess seeing that blue eyed freak won’t be too bad.”

as the car pulled up to the main entrance of the hotel, your heart started pounding rapidly fast. you continue to wipe your sweaty palms against your seat before stepping out the car. the valet takes the keys from shoko before greeting you.

“you look amazing, y/n. don’t stress. you belong here just as much as anyone else here.” she whispered some words of encouragement before you spot a familiar jet black haired boy.

“megumi!” you exclaimed excitedly. relief came washing over you as you spotted your student.

megumi, dressed in a black and white tux, gave you a soft smile before walking up to you. he extends his arm as he offered to escort you inside.

“ms. l/n! i’m really happy to see you. i know this was supposed to be small but gojo got caught up with his business.” he continues to hold onto your arm before letting go when the both of you enter, allowing an attendant takes your coat from you.

he guides you through the lobby and, into the ballroom that is covered in marble floors and crystal chandeliers. all of it scream luxury as you admired the family portraits and spotting a familiar white haired male as a baby.

megumi finds gojo across the ballroom before you do since you’re too occupied on viewing the art. “gojo has a habit of making things a lot bigger than it needs to be. i’ll leave you in his care.”

from across the ballroom, gojo observed megumi guiding you through the room with an unusual feeling of anxiety. he had always been confident, some may say overly confident, in meeting new people or greeting them. introducing himself to others was something he knew like the back of his palm. he was charismatic and witty; people loved him.

but tonight felt different the moment he laid his eyes on you. the blue gown, that coincidentally matched his tie, caught the eye of not just himself but every other man in the room. he was around the presence of the most important figures yet he felt a twinge of nervousness in his stomach build up as you got closer and closer.

‘seriously? out of all the nights to feel this way it just had to be tonight?’ he thought.

he glanced around the room, desperately trying to maintain his composure, but his thoughts were going 100 miles a minute. it felt like he was back in secondary school and had a schoolboy crush.

gojo felt a surge of warmth as you presented yourself in front of him. you looked even more breathtaking up close. you had his full attention. before you could see through him, he quickly puts up his business facade. “ms. l/n! it’s a pleasure to see you tonight.” he said in his infamous charismatic manner.

you shake his hand that he extended out. “the pleasure is all mine. although, i was told this would be a small dinner between you, megumi and myself.” you joked.

he chuckled a bit before leading you into a private room upstairs. the conversation on the way up flows naturally, starting off how the day was going for the both of you.

“wait wait wait, let me get this straight. you had no idea who i was before you shoko? and you know shoko too?!” the two of you were a few drinks in. a slight blush was spread across his cheeks.

“well i am a foreigner, i wasn’t aware how prominent your family is.” you giggled as you took another sip of wine.

laughter bounced off the walls as the two of you dined together the entire night. he found himself captivated by your intelligence, kindness and how naive you were.

and for the first time in gojo’s life, he felt truly engaged in a conversation. nothing business or family related, only a genuine conversation between two people.

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moonlinos · 1 year ago

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Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat.

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.”

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable.

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day.

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch. When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless.

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

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