#quit after freshman year maybe
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chompe-diem ¡ 1 year ago
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also ik some ppl are not the most pleased abt some consistency things like sklonda already being a practicing lawyer but tbh 1) we have no idea how long it takes in brennan's made up fantasy world how long it takes to become a lawyer and 2) it's been several real life years. it's been months since sophomore year but in real life it's been like 4 years. go off i get it king it's not a big deal
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yuyusbabygirl ¡ 29 days ago
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Strikes and Spares (18+)
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pairing: bad boy!yunho x fem!reader
word count: 4.3k
content warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI, fluff, oral (fem receiving), yunho is whipped for reader
summary: you were minding your own business when your small town's bad boy came up and just declared he was picking you up for a date
Yunho was standing by his locker when you walked into school that morning. He watched as you opened your locker which was close to his own and took out your books. The look on his face wasn’t his usual scowl of annoyance that everybody in school knows and fears. Instead his eyes softened when he saw you and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red.
San was watching him and knew immediately who showed up by Yunho’s reaction. It had been like this since freshman year. He had to suppress a snicker at Yunho’s lovesick expression. He had always found it hilarious. The school’s bad boy who regularly got into fights, skipped class (except the ones he had with you, of course) and had gotten his first tattoo with 16 was hopelessly in love with a sweet innocent nerd. The best part? You had no clue.
Yunho was snapped out of his thoughts when San nudged his shoulder
“When are you going to stop staring at Y/N and simply talk to her?” San asked him.
Yunho rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been staring at her like a hopeless fool since freshman year and now it’s our senior year and you have not once asked her out,” San chuckled.
“Shut up,” Yunho grumbled and slammed his locker shut. He knew San was right. But you were… intimidating. He realized how that sounded coming from him but it wasn’t just how pretty you were and how you didn’t seem to be scared of him, it was also just something about you. He knew everyone saw you as a sweet and innocent good girl because you got good grades and liked to dress in feminine clothes but he saw how you suppressed your smile when someone made a dirty or dark joke, he saw the kind of books you read when you thought no one would notice, he saw what music you listened to. And then there was the fact that you always smiled at him despite his reputation because you were so fucking polite. And what does he do? He chokes. Every time. Like a goddamn loser.
He watched as you closed your locker and prepared to go to class. Fuck it. It’s now or never.
Yunho walked over to you which surprised San who thought Yunho was going to creepily stare at you like he always does.
He reached you just when you started walking. “Hey.”
Great going, Yunho. That was the most lame greeting ever, he thought to himself.
You were just about to go to your first class when you heard someone talking to you. You looked up and saw Yunho standing in front of you. You had to look up quite a bit because of the height difference.
“Hey”, you greeted him back and wondered why he was talking to you. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.
He put his hands in his pocket, trying to seem relaxed. “What class do you have next?” he asked you. His tone was softer than his usual tone and he could feel the curious stares from the other students around you. Along with the usual downcast looks in case he snapped at them.
“I have English next,” you grab your bag, ready to walk to class.
He grabs your bag from you and puts it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you,” he just states and starts walking with you to your class, ignoring your confused look and the hushed whispers around you as to why he was being nice to you.
You hurried along after him as he just started walking. You were incredibly confused why he suddenly talked to you and was now carrying your bag for you while walking you to class. You knew who Yunho was. He and his friends were the school’s bad boys which frankly you thought was a cliché title. But then again you lived in a smaller town and he does get into fights. It was maybe also the fact that he wore all black and always glared at people. Again, small town stuff. You honestly didn’t mind much. You had always found him attractive but you didn’t think he even knew your name. Both of you had different circles. He was always with his friends, smoking and you had even heard of them vandalizing stuff. Meanwhile you stuck to your two friends you had since freshman year, liked to stay inside and read and got good grades. The likelihood of him knowing you was small. So you thought.
He walked alongside you in the hallway and you noticed people moving out of your way while giving you curious stares. Great. You hated it when people stared at you.
You reached your classroom and he quickly moved to hold the door open for you. You gave him a confused look and walked into the classroom. Yunho put your bag down at your desk and you were so confused by his behavior you didn’t even question how he knew where you sat as he wasn’t in this class.
He turned to you and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he states and walks off.
You nod before realizing what he said.
“Wait- what? For what? Yunho!” you called after him but he just waved and walked to his own classroom. You sat down at your desk, still confused what exactly just happened. You decided to brush it off and simply focus on class.
Meanwhile, Yunho was freaking out internally. He just did that. He finally had the courage to make a move on you, the girl he’s been crushing on since the first day of freshman year. He sat down in his own class, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest. San who sat beside him gave him a questioning look but Yunho simply gave him a grin.
During the day you started to forget about what Yunho said that morning, brushing it off as a joke. He had not talked to you after and you were sure he didn’t even know where you lived. You simply went home and changed out of your skirt into a pair of jeans to take your dog on a walk.
While you walked you passed your elderly neighbor.
“Oh Y/N dear, how are you, sweet girl? Such a sweet girl as always, taking your dog on a walk. And I heard you got a good grade on that exam. Your mother must be so proud,” she chirped.
You smiled at her, internally wishing you could just keep walking. It wasn’t that she was unpleasant but she, like everybody else, assumed that because you did well in school you were sweet and innocent. Sure, you were polite and you liked to study. But innocent is not a word you would use to describe yourself except for the fact that your real life sexual experience was limited. The only people who knew what kind of books you read were your two friends and they regularly blushed when you gave them a recap of a book you recently read. You also liked alternative things and clothes but you were too shy to actually wear it. Nevermind the fact that alternative clothes can be expensive. So you stuck to your skirts and dresses, which you also liked but you were dying to experiment more. Truthfully, you were scared to do so. You knew how people talked in a small town and you just wanted to get this senior year over with before you went to college.
When you got back home you had completely forgotten about Yunho and his comment so you went up to your room and did your homework while listening to some true crime podcast.
At 6:50pm, Yunho parked his car outside your house. He knew he was early but he was nervous. He had this whole date planned out and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being late. He walked up to your porch and rang your doorbell. While he waited, he smoothed down one of his nicer black shirts and ran a hand through his hair.
You opened the door and gave him a confused look. “Yunho? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?” you asked him.
“I told you I’d pick you up at 7. Are you ready to go?” he chuckled at your expression, ignoring the other question. So maybe he had followed you one or five times. Sue him.
“You were serious?” you asked him incredulously. You noticed he was dressed casual in black jeans and a black shirt but you could tell it was one of his nicer ones as this one didn’t have any car grease stains on it. Not that you knew what his shirts looked like.
“Of course I was serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned at you and took in your appearance. He loved seeing you in your casual jeans and sweater. The sweater paws you had nearly undid him.
“I didn’t think you even knew where I lived. And I’m not dressed for going out,” you looked down at your jeans.
He chuckled and waved you off, “nonsense, you’re dressed perfectly. Come on.”
Still confused, you put on shoes and grabbed your purse. He opened his passenger door for you and waited until you were buckled up before getting into the driver’s seat. He looked over at you while he started his car and the sight of you finally sitting in his car on the way to a date with him made him as giddy as it made him nervous.
While he drove his hand itched to reach over and grab your thigh but he had to remind himself that this is a first date.
“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned as you looked over at him, trying not to look at his veiny hand gripping the steering wheel.  
He just grinned at you, “It’s a surprise.”
You huffed slightly but let him continue. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, you liked being prepared for things but you were trying to let loose a bit.
Yunho parked the car and as you looked outside you could see the neon sign of the local bowling alley. Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Yunho was out of the car and opened your door for you, holding his hand out for you.
You put your hand in his and Yunho’s skin tingles from the skin contact. He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk inside, going to the front desk to pick out your shoes. You told the clerk your shoe size and after getting your shoes Yunho led you to a bowling lane, putting his hand on your lower back.
“Have you ever been bowling before?” he asked while he put your names into the computer.
“Uh.. like once or twice?” you replied while tying your shoes.
“That’s okay, I can teach you,” Yunho smiled at you and you were once again taken off guard by how sweet he was being.
He gave you a bowling ball, one he knew would be too heavy for you. He chuckled when he saw your arms buckle under the weight.
“Looks like I have to help you,” he teased you and came up behind you, his chest nearly pressing into your back while he helped you hold the ball. You stood in front of the lane, feeling his body heat as he towered over you from behind.
He leaned in to speak softly into your ear, “Focus on the pins and try to throw the ball as close to the middle as you can. Don’t worry about the speed for now.”
You tried to focus on what he was saying, you really did, but his low voice in your ear, his hands helping you hold the ball and the scent of his cologne made you a bit dizzy.
Yunho himself was not faring any better. He was using this as an excuse to touch you but he had not anticipated that it would feel so overwhelming to finally have you this close. He could smell your perfume and the realization that you were so much smaller than him sent his thoughts into a spiral.
Together you threw the ball and six out of the nine pins fell down. The fluttering in your stomach got stronger as you felt Yunho peck your cheek, chaste kiss on your now burning skin.
“Very good. Now you can throw again.”
He let you go for only a moment before he came back with another ball and put it in your hands. His hands didn’t let go of yours as he stepped closer to your back again and walked forwards with you. He leaned down to your ear and whispered instructions to you, which fell on deaf ears, his warm breath hitting your ear and neck nearly making you drop the ball. You managed to compose yourself long enough to throw the ball again with his help.
Two out of the remaining pins fell down and you felt your feet leave the ground as Yunho picked you up and spun you around, a soft giggle leaving your lips.
He reluctantly put you back down and you turned to face him, your flushed cheeks tugging at his heart.
Fuck, he was so whipped for you.
He could hear San’s laughter in his mind as the thought this.
His hands shifted from around your waist to your hips as he looked down at you.
“Seems like you’ll lose, Jeong,” you couldn’t help but tease him.
“Awfully cocky for a beginner, princess,” he smirked down at you. “You sure you wanna test that?”
“Well, you’d have to let me go to actually do your turn,” you quip.
He raised a brow at you and chuckled, “You think I can’t do that with you in my arms? Watch and learn, princess. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing you to his chest and dragged you along with him while he picked up a bowling ball and then walked forward to throw. Your arms wrapped around his waist so that you wouldn’t fall, your feet dragging over the floor.
“Hold tight, tiny,” he chuckled and leaned forward to throw the ball, tilting you back. All pins fell down and he laughed as he tilted you upright again. He smiled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes. The urge to kiss was almost too strong to resist but he knew he had to. He wanted to do this right and not rush it. But fuck, you were making it hard with your eyes staring up at him, your body still pressed to his, the lipgloss on your lips looking so sweet.
He took a step back, his hands shifting to your hips again. The thumping in your chest took a moment to calm down as you both continued the game, with Yunho winning, of course.
After you both finished your drinks and put your own shoes back on, he grabbed your hand in his and walked with you to the front desk to return the shoes. He couldn’t deny that he felt pride being seen with you, holding your hand in public. He had thought of this since freshman year, watching you from afar, always wondering if you’d ever go for someone like him. Now, three years later he was finally on a date with you and, not to toot his own horn, but it was going quite well.
He lead you outside and you both slowly walked to his car. Once you reached it, he used his grip on your hand to turn you to him. You looked up at him, unsure of what to do now. You hadn’t been on many dates but you really did want him to kiss you. Your tongue swept over your lips for a second, his eyes following the movement.
“Fuck, I can’t…” he muttered and you didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant by that when you felt his hand cup your cheek. He leaned down and kissed you. Softly at first, relishing in the soft gasp you let out. His lips moved over yours, his hand caressing your cheek. You gripped his shirt, needing to hold onto something so you wouldn’t do something embarrassing like stumble or squeak. His tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance.
He was right. Your lipgloss is the sweetest thing he ever tasted. At least until you opened your mouth and his tongue dove into your mouth. He grunted and pushed you against the side of his car, the hand that was on your cheek going up to tangle in your hair.
One of your hands moved up to his shoulder, holding onto him as you felt his tongue move against yours. You could still taste the soda on him that he had earlier and, shit, it was the best thing you ever tasted and you didn’t want this kiss to end.
He used the grip on your hair to tug your head back, biting slightly at your lip. The moan you let out reverberated in his head and he desperately wanted to hear more. He thanked heaven, hell and whatever the fuck was in between that the parking lot was deserted because there was no way he could hold back the growl that left him as he felt your hand on his nape, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss, slightly breathless, his eyes dark as he took in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. That godforsaken lipgloss smeared.
“You know what this means, right? You’re my girl now,” he declared, his voice rough with barely held back desire.
You couldn’t deny that your thighs clenched at his words but you still said “No.”
His grip on your hair tightened.
“No?” he challenged.
“Ask me.”
You could tell he didn’t expect that. He looked genuinely confused at your statement.
“You declared you were picking me up for a date and I didn’t mind. But you need to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you tried to keep your voice steady. You actually didn’t mind his assertiveness but you still wanted to make him work for it.
You could see the shift in his eyes and how smile got a little bit darker, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Will you be my girlfriend, tiny?” he asked you, pressing closer to you.
“Yes,” you swallowed, this time not being able to keep your voice from breaking.
“Good girl.”
His lips crashed to yours again, pulling your hair and swallowing your moan. He pulled back before he could get carried away but your whine had him twitching in his jeans.
“I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted.
“Yunho,” you whispered.
“We don’t have to but, fuck, baby… can I taste you?” he asked and he was ready to beg if that’s what it took. Your small nod was all he needed to open the door to the backseat of his car and push you inside. He climbed over you, pulling the door closed.
His lips found yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair. His self-control was hanging by a thread at this point, finally having you under him, being able to call you his.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you…” he mumbled against your lips.
A small whimper escaped your lips and you pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, running your hands along his shoulder blades. You felt him grab one of your thighs and wrap it around his waist. The bulge pressing against you felt bigger than you expected and had you clenching around nothing.
Could you…? No, fuck… not on the first date.
Yunho’s fingers slipped under your sweater, barely grazing your stomach. He felt your muscles twitch under his touch, making him chuckle against your lips. In one swift move he pulled your sweater up over your head and discarded it onto the floor of his car. His eyes found your breasts, covered by a black bra with a little bow in the middle. A little present just for him.
His focus shifted back to your face as he felt you grab at his arms. He leaned back down and began trailing kisses from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Your pulse was racing, matching his own. He felt like he could drown in the scent of your perfume if you let him. His teeth sank into the skin on your neck, where he made sure to leave a hickey. He wanted people to know the girl everyone believes to be so pure belonged to him, the guy who regularly got into fights.
“Yunho,” you whined into his shoulder.
“I know, princess,” he grunted into your ear. His fingers found the button of your jeans, slightly trembling with anticipation. Once he had opened your jeans, he looked up at you with a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded.
“Use your words, tiny,” he demanded.
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Louder.”
“Yes, Yunho,” you whined.
He smirked at the neediness in your voice and began to pull your jeans down your legs. He threw them to the front seat of his car, his hands grabbing the underside of your thighs and spreading your legs to make room for his shoulders.
You felt slightly embarrassed that your panties did not match your bra but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“Take your bra off for me,” he commanded, looking up at you from between your thighs and you couldn’t help but obey him.
His lips parted as your boobs were revealed to him. He leaned up, his mouth finding your nipple and gave it a flick with his tongue. You arched up into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He growled and his hands fisting the waistband of your panties until you heard the rip of fabric. You looked down and saw him pocket the ruined panties, now completely bare before him. He shifted himself back down between your legs, both thrown over his shoulders.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” his voice was dark and heavy with desire. He ran a finger up your slit to your clit, a light teasing touch. He let out a moan and dove down to lick a stripe between your folds, closing his eyes at the taste. There was no way he could ever stop, no way he could ever let you go now. One of his hands held down your hips as you twitched underneath his ministrations.
One hand grabbed at his hair while the other flew up to hold onto the door of his car. You tried to keep your moans down but the feel of his tongue dipping into you made it impossible. Your thighs tightened around his head but it didn’t stop him, if anything it made him more eager to have you fall apart on his tongue. You looked down and saw his eyes looking up at you, watching your every reaction. He sucked at your clit and you pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, the vibrations of his voice making everything feel more intense. It had been a while since someone touched you and it was never this good so you could already tell you weren’t going to last long.
Yunho trailed one hand up to your breast, a finger rubbing softly over your nipple while his tongue alternated between flicking your clit and lapping at your entrance. Every whine and moan fueled his desire for you, wanting to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wanted. He could tell you were close when your thighs shook around his head. He focused his tongue on your clit and pressed a hand down on your stomach.
The pressure on your stomach and the relentless stimulation of your clit and nipple had you coming in seconds. Your fingers pulled at his hair while you moaned his name. Your thighs crushed his head but he didn’t let up. As overstimulation set in, your other hand also flew to his hair and you tried to push him away while you whined.
“Too much, please, Yunho, please…” you whimpered, words barely coherent.
He took pity and pulled his mouth off, licking his lips. His face shone with your juices and despite basically grinding on his face a minute ago you blushed.
He chuckled softly as he saw your flustered expression and slowly crawled up to your face, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him and it made your stomach flutter in need again. He pulled away and you tried to catch your breath.
“Are you okay?” he murmured softly while brushing your hair away from your face.
“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. He continued running his fingers through your hair, covering your body with his to keep you from getting cold. He helped you put your bra and sweater back on when you stopped him.
“Wait, what about you?” you questioned, looking up at him.
“You think I’m gonna taste the girl of my dreams and not cum in my pants?” he replied, his voice rough. He saw your eyes drop down to the front of his jeans, your cheeks burning red.
“So don’t worry about me, tiny. I wanted to make you feel good,” he reassured you.
He helped you put your jeans back on, minus your panties that he ripped and stole. Once you had buttoned your jeans, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. He let out a surprised moan and pulled you closer. His lips left yours reluctantly.
“Let’s get you home before your mom kills me,” he chuckled.
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mywritersmind ¡ 4 months ago
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OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4
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summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3
listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader
word count : 1017
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”
I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.
“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.
The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?
“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.
They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.
“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.
“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.
“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes
“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.
“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.
His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”
I nod, “I’m sure.”
“I could have sworn it was her room!”
I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”
“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”
I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”
He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”
“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”
He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”
I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.
The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.
“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.
I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.
He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.
“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”
“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”
He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”
“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”
“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”
I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”
“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”
“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”
Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”
“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”
“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.
“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”
Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.
“Good luck.”
The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.
I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.
I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.
Except when I open the door, no one’s there.
I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.
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I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.
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kamiversee ¡ 8 months ago
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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1 | Something about you
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.
❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…
But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 
Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…
Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.
Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.
“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.
And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”
You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”
“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”
You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”
“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.
“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”
“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”
At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.
Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.
Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”
“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.
“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.
You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“
“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”
You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”
“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.
You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”
He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”
Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.
He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Your brows lift, “Am I?”
Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”
“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”
The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”
You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”
“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“
“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.
“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.
You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”
He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”
“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.
There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?
Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ��nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”
You blink, “A name…?”
“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.
“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.
He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”
“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-
“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.
“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.
“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.
God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…
Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-
“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.
Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??
“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.
The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.
“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“
“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”
You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”
“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”
You hum, “Right, sorry.”
It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.
You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.
Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“
“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”
Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“
“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.
Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.
“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.
Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”
“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”
He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.
“Damn, really?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”
You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”
“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.
Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”
“Maybe you should,” He tells you.
A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”
The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.
“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.
Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“
Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“
“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.
“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.
Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”
“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”
You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”
“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.
“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”
“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”
“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.
Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”
His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”
You nod, “I see…”
“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.
You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”
Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”
The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”
“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”
Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.
“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.
Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”
“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.
“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.
“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”
Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”
You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”
“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.
“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”
“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”
Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Gojo hums.
“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.
“Anytime-”
Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”
Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”
You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”
“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”
“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”
“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.
Gojo frowns, “But-”
“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.
Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.
You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”
“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”
Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”
“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”
The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”
“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.
Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.
Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.
The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.
After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.
Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”
Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.
Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”
Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”
You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.
His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”
“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.
"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."
And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.
Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 
He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…
With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”
“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.
Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”
Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.
“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.
His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”
You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”
“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.
Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.
Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.
You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”
“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.
You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”
“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”
You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”
He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”
“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.
Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”
“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”
He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.
“Yeah, very.” You hum.
Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”
You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”
“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”
You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”
Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”
At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.
Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”
Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”
“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.
Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”
“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.
You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”
“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”
“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.
Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”
“Maybe,” You shrug.
His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.
All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”
You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”
Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.
He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’
Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”
Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”
He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”
“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.
Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”
You glance at him, “Debatable.”
He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”
“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”
Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”
Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”
“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”
Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”
“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”
You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”
“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”
“Away from you!” You call back.
He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”
Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”
Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”
He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.
You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.
You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.
So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.
When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.
That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 
Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.
Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.
“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.
“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”
He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.
“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.
Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”
You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”
He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.
You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.
“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”
Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.
He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“
“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”
Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”
You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.
After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”
“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.
You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”
Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”
“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.
“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”
Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”
Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”
You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”
“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.
Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”
Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”
He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.
You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”
Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”
“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”
“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.
To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”
He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.
Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.
Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.
Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”
You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”
He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”
Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.
Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.
Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“
“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.
You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”
He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”
You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”
And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”
“I’m hanging up,” You groan.
His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
You send him a look, “Are you?”
“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”
Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.
“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.
Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”
Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“
“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.
He shuts up again.
“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.
To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”
“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”
You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 
The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.
Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.
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hoshifighting ¡ 3 months ago
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i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz
thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33
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warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.
college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.
he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”
you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.
after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.
and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.
one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.
“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.
“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”
you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”
“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”
the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.
but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.
and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.
there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”
and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.
you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”
you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.
but then… spring party. fuck.
there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.
it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.
you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?
and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.
he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.
you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.
“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”
“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.
“wait a minute… are you jealous?”
the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.
“you’re ridiculous.”
“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”
“shut up, jeonghan.”
but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”
you blinked. “what?”
he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”
you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.
“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”
you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.
but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”
"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.
you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.
you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”
you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.
a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.
the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.
you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.
“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.
you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.
“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.
“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.
“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.
“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.
your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”
“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.
“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”
“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.
“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”
“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.
“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.
you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.
“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”
“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.
instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.
just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.
your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.
for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.
he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.
his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.
when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.
you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.
jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered
you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.
“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”
you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.
it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”
you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.
“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”
you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.
jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.
your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.
he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.
your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.
“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.
“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”
you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.
“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.
“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.
“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”
before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.
jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.
jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.
a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.
before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.
“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”
he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”
your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.
before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”
“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.
jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”
“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”
those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.
“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.
“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.
“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”
“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.
“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.
“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”
he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”
but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.
jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”
“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.
he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.
you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.
you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.
his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.
you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”
jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.
you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”
that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.
“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”
his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”
jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.
“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”
“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.
you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”
his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.
you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.
he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.
you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.
“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”
“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”
jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”
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nlovesbjh ¡ 1 month ago
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꒰ 마크 ꒱ ── cherry beer 𖥔 synopsis. . . mark would've never guessed that he'd spend his free time on some college party making out with a pretty girl
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𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑑 마크 / reader ៸៸ college au suggestive ⟡ ⌢ . making out drinking mark loves ass now is playing! . . cherry bomb by nct 127
𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. im so obsessed with mark the past week guys this is getting out of hand so i had to write it. also not proofread and everything is happening super fast in this im sorry lol
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mark wasn't used to be in a place like this, he wasn't a party typa guy at all to say at least, but there he was. he could spend friday night to study and maybe produce something for his next class, but his friends wanted him to go to that frat party so bad, they were annoying him for the whole week. now he was sitting on the couch, his ears hurting from the shitty music those frat guys were playing, couple that sat right next to him were touching each other and he almost spilled his drink on him. fucking perfect.
"hey, why are you here?" donghyuck comes to him from behind, wrapping a hand around his friends shoulder. why the fuck is he asking that, he was literally the one who drugged him there and then left to go get drunk with some girls that won't even look ar him for once. mark was annoyed. he could be in his room, watching new episode of his favorite show, but no. it was all donghyuck and jisung's fault.
"because you left me to get some pussy?" mark rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair when he stood up. he followed donghyuk even if he was mad at him, there was nothing else to do at that shitty party anyway.
"hold on a minute, you were the one who said you'd be somewhere in the house not wanting to talk to girls…"
"because they do not care about you or me. dude, you seriously think those girls, looking like they just came from 'mean girls' movie would care about you?" mark chuckles at his friend's naivety. that was just stupid of him thinking that they care. "have you seen how they were all over jeno? and now they're probably having a threesome or something.."
"gosh, why are you like that?"
"like what? not blind of someone's pretty facade that they built just to get rid of the nerds like us?" mark leaned back on the wall when they got outside, breathing deeply. fresh air helped him feel better, he wasn't feeling that bad now after he finally left that crowded room that smells like alcohol and sweat. nasty.
"you're too serious," donghyuck took a sip from his drink and waved him off before he walked away. mark saw jisung smoking at the backyard with some stoner guys from the campus he saw before a few times. obviously hyuck went there to get high like it would bring some fun into this event.
mark was staring at his phone, scrolling through his discord chat with other friends, seeing they were playing minecraft. he would play it too if he wasn't there. he couldn't leave this house without hyuck and jisung though, he wasn't a shitty friend after all. they were drunk and high and he didn't want anything to happen to them.
he didn't hear when the door opened and only when someone quite literally bumped into him and almost fell, he saw you. his phone almost slipped from his hand, but that didn't matter now. mark's hands quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall on the ground. "yo, are you alright?"
"yeah, thanks." you nodded, looking up to see who saved you from falling. trying your best to get your hair out of your face, you saw mark. you knew him because you shared one class together when you both were on your freshman year, after that you were only looking at him from time to time at campus. or in cafeteria. or when he was ordering his coffee in the morning before classes at the same coffee shop you always went to. "im bad at drinking, had one fucking beer and can't stand straight already.."
"why did you drink then?" mark asked. his hands still were on your waist, holding you in place with a gentle grip. he looked at you, searching your face and eyes, something about you were super familiar but he couldn't quite understand what. like he saw you somewhere before. and you were pretty. mark's gaze dropped to your lips, lip gloss looked so shiny he was wondering how'd it taste and how'd your lips look all swollen and messy… what the hell? why was he thinking with his dick right now, that's not mark lee. something about you just brought this side of him out and he couldn't help it. so stupid.
"because this party is fucking boring!" you rolled your eyes as you heard mark's question. in all honesty you came to this party to have fun and relax after a stressful week of studies and maybe hookup with someone, but music was shitty, guys were ugly and your friends decided to get high for some reason and you weren't feeling like it. you drank one cherry flavored beer and since you're not good with alcohol, it was enough for you to go outside to get some fresh air before you could've done or said anything weird that you'd regret later. "aren't you bored, mark? that's why you're outside, yeah?"
"how do you know my name?" mark's eyes widened slightly, now he tried so hard to remember where he could possibly see you that you even know his name. you. hot girl in those fucking jeans that were hugging your ass perfectly and low cut top, he felt like he was in some teenage movie where a popular cheerleader girl allowed a nerd like him to touch her and there'd be happy ending where they ended up together or something. some stupid shit his cousin would probably watch.
"we had art class together a few years ago, you sat right infront of me and i couldn't see half of the desk because of your big head," you explained, standing straight and making sure your hair and outfit looked presentable. even though you weren't about to fall anymore, you didn't want to escape from mark's grip on your waist. you didn't want him to let go either, it also seemed like he forgot that he was touching you.
"oh! sorry dude, my bad.. um," he finally let go of your waist, making you pout slightly which he didn't notice. his hand comes to the back of his neck as he rubs it awkwardly. "how'd you still remember me?"
"can't say i didn't like that big head of yours covering the view, so i asked your friend… ugh, what's his name?" you genuinely couldn't remember the name of the guy that you asked for mark's name. he looked like he was about to cry back then when you came up to him. "the emo looking kid."
"jisung."
"i guess? whatever. i asked him for your name, poor boy looked like he was about to piss himself." you both chuckle.
"wait, you asked for my name? why?"
"you're cute," you shrugged, looking up at him. the distance between you two was small, you could smell the mix of perfume and alcohol coming from him, his hair looked soft and the only thing you wanted to do right now was run your hands through it while you kiss him, leaving him all breathless and shy. "the reason why i haven't talked to you since then is because i thought you were too busy studying.."
"too busy for what?" mark interrupted you, his cheeks now flashed slight red as he noticed your gaze on him. and when you called him cute.. he just had to believe you, there was no sign that you were lying or anything like that, he thought you'd never make fun of him too. just felt right.
"dating? fucking? not sure."
"you wanted to fuck me?!" mark was shocked, he almost yelled so you had to cover his mouth with your hand to shut him up so nobody would look at you two.
"shut up, idiot. gosh, why are you so pathetic, that's hot.." you truly didn't mean for the second sentence to come out of your mouth, but by the look in mark's eyes you could tell he was more shocked and confused now. you put your hand down, clearing your throat as you looked away. "still do, by the way."
"what?"
"still wanna fuck you, mark."
oh, he wasn't expecting that. what was he supposed to do? or say? maybe he just needs to shut up and stay there quietly and wait before you say something? there was a lot of thoughts in his head, gaze flicking from your face to your boobs. yeah, he was still thinking with his dick.
"wanna make out?"
"what?!"
"are you deaf or something?" you rolled your eyes at him once again, turning your head to look at him and wait for his answer. yeah, you liked mark. he was cute, awkward and oh damn you loved nerds and he was the hot one, obviously you wanted to make out because you were at this party for that at the first place. and you were a little drunk, so why not? "if you won't answer i'll just kiss you.."
"i want to," mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking down at you. "what do i do?"
"oh my god, mark! have you ever kissed a girl in your life?" one of your hands wrapped around his shoulder while other comes to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. you couldn't wait, your mouth quickly covering his, tasting a strong taste of beer on his lips. mark closed his eyes, standing there and letting you do all the work. he didn't even know where to put his hands, honestly. he was afraid you wouldn't like him touching you even though you two were kissing. and he still couldn't remember your name. fuck.
you pulled away, taking a breath before smiling at him. your smile was so pretty, mark could've sworn he almost faint. "you can touch me, i can tell you want to touch my ass."
"are you s-serious?"
"cute." was the only thing you've said when you pulled him for another kiss. the hand on his shoulder slipped down his arm and you brought his hand to your ass, mark's eyes widened and he almost moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly more so you could slide your tongue inside. the wet sound of your messy kiss was making mark's head spin, his other hand moving up to your waist as he pressed his back to the house's wall. the contrast between your hot body, warm lips against his and the coldness against his back was definitely doing something to him.
mark felt kinda bad though. he liked kissing you, liked knowing that you were attracted to him, who wouldn't be happy if they were him? you — pretty girl from his university, hot as fuck as we speak, were attracted to some nerd like him? what a fucking win. he loved touching your ass too, it just felt right. so soft comparing to the rough fabric of your jeans, fits perfectly in his hand. but he still couldn't remember your name. he didn't want to become one of those jerks who's fucking a cute girl without even knowing her name and then leaving. yeah, you two weren't even fucking, but kissing you was nice and he liked that cherry beer flavor on your tongue when you licked his lower lip. so fucking hot.
he couldn't believe a girl like you could possibly like someone like him and that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to let go without remembering who you were. he wanted to take on a date? yeah. date you? maybe. damn, he doesn't even know you, but for him that was literally the last thing that matters right now. your lips were soft, the way your hands run through his hair and pulled them slightly… oh shit. when he felt your lips on his neck, teeth rubbing his gentle skin slightly as you pressed more kisses down his neck, mark was gone. down bad. in that moment he was pretty sure he wanted you all to himself and that right now he was the luckiest man alive.
"what's your name?" he choked out between kisses you shared, eyes still closed and his hand still squeezing your ass. you chuckled, finding his behavior adorable.
"y/n."
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taglist: @spacejip @peterm4rker
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bigification ¡ 4 months ago
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Prom King
"We want to welcome you back to Fairway High for your ten year reunion. Come catch up with some old friends and share all the amazing adventures you've had since you graduated! And stick around for a special speech from our Prom King and Queen."
Dan shuddered as he read the email. He had completely forgotten about the stupid reunion. It's funny, he thought, he used to imagine how he would show up to the reunion in a sports car with a perfect bod and high end clothes hugging his muscles. But that was back when he was the most popular football player in his town. Parents adored him, popular teens idoled him, and nerds feared him. Things have changed a lot for Dan since then.
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He stared at his half naked body, ravaged by the bad habits of an ex jock. His appetite stayed after he graduated high school, but the exercise didn't last long. He went off to study business in college, as any high school jock did. His time spent at football practice turned to frat parties and junk food, which quickly showed on his waistline. It really put a dent in his once untouched ego, especially once people nicknamed him as 'freshman' fifty. It wasn't quite fifty pounds, at least not in his first year. It sure was well over that by the time he graduated though. And in that time, his clean shaven body had been buried in thick dark hair from head to toe. Although he didn't entirely mind the more mature look, especially once his beard grew in, it complemented his growing gut. Though Dan took another sizable cut to his ego when he started to go bald at the ripe age of 20. Comb overs only lasted him so long, so he started shaving it when he was in his senior year.
He always said it built character, which to be fair, he was far less awful after graduating college than he was in high school. The email only made him remember how awful he was back then. He was the typical jock with his possy of suck up football players who had no personality and the most popular girls. He would torment anyone who was even slightly chubby, or even just smart, they were all beneath him in his mind. How were people gonna react when he shows up to the reunion looking 9 months pregnant and about to burst. It horrified him at the thought of them treating him how he treated them.
Then the horrifying thought hit him, "I'm the Prom King!" He shouted out loud at him in the mirror. Not only would he have to show his face, and gut, he would have to stand on stage in front of his entire graduating year and say a speech about being Prom King. He would be a laughing stock.
"I have to do something about this." He thought.
The reunion was still two weeks away, he could workout, or diet, or maybe buy some clothes that hide his fat. He did a frantic search online but everything just seemed like a scam. He scrolled through page after page of scam supplement and intense workout regimen until he found something interesting. A witch who lived nearby. A witch who specializes in body modifications. It was drastic, but could be crazy enough to work.
Dan contacted the witch with a request to make him into an absolute jock, the kind of man his high school friends would expect him to be 10 years later.
After a bit of back and forth, an appointment was set, and Dan went to bed happy.
The day of the appointment came in a flash. Dan threw on his classic base ball cap to cover his balding head, and dressed in some gym clothes that he thought would look sick on his new hunky body. He excitedly hopped in his car and drove down to the witches house. To his surprise, it was just a regular apartment in a regular apartment building. He was expecting some evil looking house, but seemed less intimidating anyway. He knocked on the door, and he was met with yet another surprise. A petite and nice looking woman wearing all black opened the door.
"Come in darling." Her voice was enchanting. "Sit." She continued in a soft but commanding tone.
Dan sat in a small chair in front of an antique looking table. The raggedy wooden chair creaked under his weight as the witch sat across from him.
"So... You say you want a strong, manly, and attractive appearance?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"Well for what it's worth, you're much more attractive than you used to be." A cold breeze blew past Dan as she spoke.
"Oh... Thank you." His cheeks reddened at the comment.
"I do have to warn you, there are some... dangers to this spell." Her tone darkens.
Dan just raised his eyebrows.
"There are people who feed off of a witch's magic. Now I know how to avoid them, but I will be imbuing this magic into you. So you may have a target on your back from people trying to steal your magic."
"I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Just don't draw too much attention to yourself." The witch warned. "Anyway. I'll get on with it."
She dipped her hands in a small bowl that was laid on the table. "Stand up." She commanded, and Dan followed. She walked around to Dan's side of the table, fingers wet from whatever was in the bowl. She pressed her fingers into his forehead, and it felt like all the tension in his body vanished in a split second. In fact, all feeling seemed to vanish in Dan's body, leaving him stood exactly still. Something about being frozen should have scared him, but he felt a strange sense of calm in the moment.
The witches fingers traced down Dan's face, through his beard and over his soft man tits. She lifted the finger and firmly pressed it back down into his chest. It was like the air was pushed out of his chest as the fat on his moobs collapsed in on itself, leaving his chest completely flat. She then pulled her finger outward, and his pecs grew as she pulled. The muscle swelled until two juicy pecs pressed hard against his tang top. Dan was shocked, he couldn't believe it actually worked, although he still couldn't move.
The witch then traced her finger down to his gut. She laid the palm of her hand against it and pushed, causing his belly to vanish in a second. And once again, she pulled her hand back to form a defined six pack over his flat stomach. She moved her finger around his side, melting away his love handles and giving him a thin waist.
She then suddenly sped up, as if she hit her stride. Her hands gripped Dan's soft arms, and suddenly definition appeared on his rapidly growing biceps. They grew to the size of melons as his shoulders broadened to match. Good thing he wore a tang top or else his sleeves would be in shreds on the floor. Her hands slid down his forearms, doubling their size in the process, and she held his hands, making them so massive they could completely cover his face.
She then bent down and grabbed his thighs, causing them to thicken to the point that Dan couldn't separate them anymore. She thickened his calves as she moved to his feet, making them burst out of his shoes as they grew to a monstrous size 20. As she stood back up, Dan realized the witch stood at eye level to his pecs when they used to be the same height.
The witch then wrapped her arms around Dan's hulking body and cupped his ass cheeks, making them expand into two thick globes of fat that threatened to rip through his shorts. One hand then came back and gripped Dan's dick, making it grow and thicken until it was a massive 10 inches and hanging down his pant leg.
Finally, her hand lifted up to Dan's face, making a few adjustments to match his body. A thicker beard, a sharper jawline, a slightly bigger head to match his much bigger body, and thick brown hair on his head.
Dan gasped as he regained control of his body. He teetered back and forth as he tried to get used to his new body. His legs felt strong, holding up his immense muscle mass with ease. He even struggled to move his arms around at first because it was difficult to move that amount of mass. His meaty hands took a moment to explore his expansive body; bouncing his pecs and his ass, gripping his cock, and even rubbing through the short brown hair that now covered his head.
"How are ya feeling handsome?" The witch broke the silence.
"Are you kidding me, I feel amazing!" Dan flexed, as if to show off his body like a new toy.
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"Well I'm glad you like it, now we should talk abou-" the witch was interrupted as Dan basically ran out the door.
"I'll be fine, thank you!" The sound of his voice got quieter as he shut the door behind him.
On his way home, Dan excitedly stopped by a retail store to grab some clothes that actually fit. He confidently strolled in with his tang top riding up his hairy six pack, and shorts that were clearly too small for him. He picked up a few clothes that were big enough to fit him, but small enough to leave little to the imagination about his physique. The clothes weren't exactly pretty, but nobody would care about the clothes when his hunky body was the one wearing them. He even flirted with the cashier on the way out, making his cheeks flush red.
He swiftly made it home and passed out like he had just had the workout of his life.
He woke up the next morning, feeling like he was still in a dream. He shot out of bed as if he'd had three cups of coffee already. This was how he spent every morning leading up to the reunion. Dan was more productive this week than he had been in years. His looks quickly got him a modest following on Instagram, and even on onlyfans after his followers pestered him enough. He reconnected with a bunch of his old friends from high school, just to build a rapport with them before the reunion. And he spent most nights partying and staying the night at some strangers house. By the time the reunion rolled around, it was as if he was the same person he was in high school. Hot, athletic, cocky as hell, and maybe just a bit nicer than he was back in high school. So much for 'building character'.
Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the reunion. He had been prepping for this all week, there was no way he could mess it up now. Dan was meant to be the Prom King. He wore a snug pair of jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a grey shirt that showed off his juicy pecs, and finally threw on the letter jacket he wore when he was Prom King ten years prior.
He pulled up to the reunion in his shitty, half broken down car and parked as far out of the way as possible just so no one could see the piece of shit he drove. He pushed open the door to the venue and walked past the crowd of people as if all eyes were on him, because they were. Everyone who was anyone knew who the Prom King was.
He strolled to the back of the stage, so he could get ready for his speech. He stood alone, in silence for a moment, trying to hype himself up. Even after the amazing week he has had, it was the same insecure fat ex jock under there who was scared that everyone would laugh at him onstage. But his moment of silence was interrupted when loud footsteps approached him from behind.
An older man strolls into the backstage, walking right past Dan as if he wasn't there. Dan grimaced as the man got close, seeing the man's large ball belly hanging out of his shirt, which seemed to have multiple buttons popped off. "What is this pig doing here?" Dan couldn't help but think of the old man. The old man promptly sat down in a chair near Dan, leaning back and pulling the shirt up his gut, as if to show it off.
"Who the fuck are you!?" Dan yelled as he got fed up with the old man's antics.
"Oh, you don't know who I am?" The man said as he continued to adjust himself in the seat.
"Why would I know some loser like you, are you the Prom Queens dad or something." Dan scoffed.
"I thought the witch would have warned you about me." The old man's demeanor became more serious.
Dan felt a jolt of fear run down his spine. How does he know about the witch?
"Oh I bet she did." The man started to laugh. "But all the attention online and the sex and the porn, oh the porn was so good." The man grunted as he rubbed his crotch. "You just couldn't resist being popular!"
Dan only grew more afraid as the man monologued.
"I am going to enjoy this." The old smiled as he got up from the chair.
"Enjoy what?" Dan questioned as he tried to back away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he back away. The old man grew closer and closer, but no matter how much Dan wanted to run, he remained frozen in place. The man placed his finger on Dan's forehead, causing a blue light to escape from his body and enter the man's body.
Dan watched helplessly as the man's arms grew to the size of melons, his biceps bursting through his sleeves. Meanwhile, all Dan could feel was his sleeves becoming looser as his arms deflated. The man's moobs shrunk into a solid pair of pecs as Dan looked down to see his chest swell until he was left with two soft man tits. The man's ball gut got smaller and smaller as fat piled into Dan's stomach, leaving him with a heavy gut that spilled under his shirt. The man's pants grew tighter and tighter as thick muscles filled his thighs and juicy fat perked up his ass. Dan felt weak as his legs became more fat than muscle, he even felt the bulge in his pants shrink as he watched a thick bulge appear in the man's pants.
As if that wasn't enough, Dan watched on in horror as the man's face ages down from 60 down to 30. His wrinkles melted away as Dans became dry and wrinkly, his face thinned out as Dan's became rounder and chubbier, and his hair gained a light brown colour as Dan's thinned out and became white. The man pulled off his shirt to reveal a forest of dark hairs sprouting all over his body as a bushy bread covered his face. Meanwhile Dan can feel his face go cold from the much thinner facial hair.
As the transformation came to an end, the man flexed as he felt the energy course through him.
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Dan once again let out a gasp as he regained control of his body, though this time his voice was much deeper and gruffer. Dan panicked as he ran his hands through all of the new rolls of fat on his body. He even stumbled back as he adjusted to the weight of his gut.
"What did you do to me!?" Dan yelled.
"Oh you did this to yourself buddy, y'know how easy it was to find you." The man responded, sounding almost exactly like you used to.
"You made me fat." Dan's voice breaks.
"Oh I did so much more than that, check the camera in your phone old man." The man smiled, as if he was containing his excitement.
Dan dreadfully pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.
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Dan shed a tear as he saw the fat old man staring back at him through his phone's camera. His gut was bursting out of his jacket and his hair was nearly as thin as it was before his initial transformation.
"And if you don't mind I'll be taking that." The man grabbed the letter jacket off of Dan and put it on himself.
The man confidently strutted towards the stage, ready to give his speech as Prom King, but Dan wasn't ready to give up that easily. His footsteps were heavy as he followed the man onstage and grabbed his arm.
"You're not gonna take this away from me!" Dan yelled.
This was followed by a moment of silence as the crowd went awkwardly quiet. Everyone's eyes were once again on Dan, but it didn't feel like before.
"Ooohhh, that was embarrassing old man." The old man whispered to Dan before approaching the mic. "I'm sorry everybody, my dad is just a bit jealous that I'm in my glory days and he's not." The man says to the entire venue, then turns to you once again. "Isn't that right, dad? " He said as he pressed his finger into Dan's chest.
Dan froze once again. This time, memories flooded into his brain. Memories of him growing old, never reaching the happiness and popularity he had in high school. He even had a son, and named him Dan jr. after himself of course. Though his son would grow to top him in all of his achievements, including becoming prom King back when he was in high school. Dan Sr. finally decided to swallow his pride and let his son have the spotlight. He slowly waddled off to the side and watched as his son gave his speech as Prom King.
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seungkw1 ¡ 5 months ago
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one last chance — bsk
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♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, smut [18+ MDNI] ♡ wc: 4.3k ♡ warnings: drinking, size kink, masturbation (m.), oral (m. & f. receiving), head pushing, face sitting (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (don’t do this), reader is down bad, sk is also down bad, quite a bit of whimpering from both parties oop ♡ a/n: back from my hiatus!! hope u guys enjoy this one <3
You’ve accepted that you’re never going to see your college crush again after graduation - but an unexpected invitation to a pool party might just change everything.
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Boo Seungkwan is many things: charming, witty, intelligent, athletic, and incredibly good-looking. There’s not one particular thing that stands out when you think about how in love you are with him - he is simply the most attractive person you’ve ever met.
You first met him freshman year of college, at a house party just before the school year started, when you drunkenly kissed him. To be fair, you kissed a few people that night, but you don't remember the others - only the cute guy on the volleyball team made a lasting impression. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you distinctly remember him being a very good kisser. 
You had a few classes together over the years. You quickly developed a habit of sitting at the very front of the classroom - if you sat anywhere you could see him, you would simply get lost in a daydream. And you really didn't want to fail your classes over some silly fantasies. 
But at a certain point, you accepted that the fantasies were, in fact, quite serious. You wouldn't consider Boo Seungkwan to be a friend, per se - but your social circles overlapped just enough to keep him on the perimeter of acquaintanceship. Though seemingly one-sided, you came to know him well, as if he was a longtime companion rather than a friend of a friend at best. You tried telling yourself that he just had that effect on people, being so gregarious and outgoing that everyone loved him by default. Which was true to a degree. But something about him - rather, everything about him simply captivated you
And that was enough for you to fall in love. 
You always felt a little insane about it. How could you be so in love with someone without having talked to them more than a handful of times in your life? You dated around here and there, a couple relationships serious, most not. But Boo Seungkwan was always in the back of your mind. Try as you might, you simply could not get over him.
Four years came and went. The ups and downs of college life are nearly behind you now. Everyone is about to get a big adult job, perhaps move cities, enter the real world. Aside from your closest friends, you probably will never see most of these people ever again outside of social media. They’ll walk the stage, and then walk out of your life for good. 
And so, disheartened, you accept that your chances with Boo Seungkwan will once and for all become zero. But purely by luck, the next day on your coffee run you bump into a friend of a friend who invites you to a pool party on the weekend. It’s a graduation party out in the suburbs, at a huge house owned by the parents of a well-known, popular student who happens to be in the same fraternity as Seungkwan. Normally, you would've declined - you've always found pool parties a bit awkward, especially when you likely wouldn't know many people there. But there was a pretty damn good chance that Seungkwan would be there - and you would be remiss if you didn't take one last chance to at least talk to him. So with cautious optimism, you agreed to go. 
You spend the next couple days before the party massively overthinking what you're going to wear. After much deliberation you land on a bright blue swimsuit with an oversized sheer coverup on top. Good enough, anyway. 
You intentionally arrive to the party fashionably late - no need to get there too early and get roped into small talk with people you hardly know. Fortunately, you spot your roommate from sophomore year - you're not close, but you still consider them a good friend. They wave you over and you join the group; the conversation is fine, but eventually a few of them get deep into a discussion on some indie film you've never seen. You zone out, eyes wandering around the party scene. Not many people are in the pool - still too early, apparently; one frat guy you vaguely recognize is busy at the grill making slightly-burnt hot dogs, but the rest haven't seemed to arrive yet. As if summoned by your thoughts, a group of guys enters the backyard, hooting and hollering with several giant cases of beer in tow. The party attendees cheer at the sight of alcohol. 
Then, a few moments after the arriving party has entered, you see him. 
Like a goddamn scene from a movie, Seungkwan walks through the gate - his warm brown hair flowing gently in the breeze, his skin shining in the golden hour sun. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and simple navy swim shorts, but somehow still looks ethereal. 
Someone in the group you've been chatting with waves him over. 
“Heyyyyy, now the party’s here!” the guy shouts at him. Seungkwan waves back to him, his eyes scanning the group, when he makes eye contact with you. After a few seconds you realize you've been holding your breath. You exhale. 
Relax, you tell yourself. He probably doesn't even remember you. 
Seungkwan joins your group. The frat bro who waved him over hands him a beer. He opens it and chugs a bit, the can looking particularly small in his large hands. You try to be normal and not just stare at him hopelessly, but it's easier said than done. 
A few minutes pass. Some of his fellow volleyball players were amidst the group, so they started talking about the sport. You’ve only been to a few volleyball games in your life (all of them being college games that you attended with the idea of watching Seungkwan in shorts in mind), so you do your best to follow along with the conversation, but it's not going too well for you. So you mostly just remain silent. 
After a while, you start thinking of excuses to get you out of this conversation. Not that you don't want to be around him anymore - but you're feeling too awkward for your liking at this point. You decide that you can probably just slip away without anyone noticing, so you turn to leave. 
“Hey y/n! Want a beer?”
You freeze in your tracks. Turning back around, you see Seungkwan in front of you, extending a Bud Light to you. 
“Oh, sure,” you say, smiling to conceal your nerves. “Thanks!”
“Of course,” he says with a soft grin. “So,” he continues, “I heard you were-”
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. 
Three of his fellow frat bros emerged out of thin air, cheering and shouting, grabbing Seungkwan and hauling him away. With a big SPLASH they throw him into the pool. 
As he surfaces he begins yelling at his friends. 
“What the hell!!!”
They all laugh at him - he pretends to be mad, but he can't help but laugh along with them. 
“Help me out, dipshit,” he says to the nearest friend. The guy reaches down to help him out of the pool, but Seungkwan pulls him into the water instead. The rest of them let out a loud OOOOOOOOH before jumping into the pool after them. 
You scoff at their stupidity, but you can't help but laugh too. 
“Wanna go inside, y/n?” your old roommate asks you. “I heard there's an air hockey table in there.”
“I’m terrible at air hockey,” you inform them, but you agree. As you step through the door to the house, you take one look back. Seungkwan and his buddies are now playing chicken in the pool. You swear you see him looking at you from atop his buddy’s shoulders, but moments later he gets whacked with a pool noodle and falls into the water. You roll your eyes as you go in the house. Idiots. 
But you secretly still hope you can talk to him again later. 
—
Your wish comes true - sort of. 
The sun is long set, and pretty much everybody is in the hot tub. You were chilling with a few others, but more and more people started joining in. It’s getting a bit crowded, but Seungkwan happens to be two people over from you. You’ve ended up between two different conversations, participating in neither, but listening along as he talks about the new music he’s been listening to lately. 
Suddenly, a massive uproar arises from indoors. 
“SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!...”
In an instant nearly everybody leaps out of the hot tub, whooping and cheering as they follow the drunken chanting into the house. 
Everybody but Seungkwan. 
He fixes his eyes on you - his eyelids slightly heavy from numerous beers, his red-tinted cheeks illuminated in the dim glow of the backyard string lights, his lips seemingly extra plush, soft, kissable… 
He has never looked more stunning than he does right now. 
A lazy smile spreads across his face. “No shots for you, then?”
You shake your head. “Nah, I'm okay.”
“Me too.”
A few moments of silence pass. He gazes at you as if he has something he wants to say, but he hesitates. Despite the lack of conversation, it feels… comfortable. Like you could sit in silence all night with him and not get bored - his presence is more than enough. 
“Can I ask you a dumb question?” he finally asks, the look on his face slightly sheepish. 
“Sure,” you respond, working overtime to maintain your calm exterior despite your heart rate rising. “Though - I'm sure it's not dumb,” you add affirmatively.  
He reclines, lifting his elbows and placing his arms casually along the edge of the hot tub. He looks up at the moonlit night sky, as if reminiscing. 
“Do you remember when we kissed that one time?”
You feel as if you've suddenly been electrocuted. You don't know what you expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that. 
He continues. “It was at the very beginning of college - before classes had even started. At a house party. We were both drunk, you probably don't even remember-”
“No I remember,” you blurt out. He turns his head to you again, a look of genuine surprise upon his face. 
“You do?” he responds, momentarily forgetting to contain his elation. 
“Of course,” you reply with a nod. 
“You must have a really good memory, then,” he says nonchalantly - but you can tell he hopes there's something more to it. 
“Not really,” you admit. His eyes remain locked on yours. He turns slightly, facing you. 
“I've thought about it often over the years. Thought about you.” 
Your stomach drops. 
He drifts a bit closer through the softly bubbling water, his eyes locked on you. “Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I’d ever had the courage to ask you out.”
You stare back at him, too stunned to respond. His lips curl into a smile. 
“What's that look for?” he asks. His big brown eyes are practically sparkling.
“I…” you start, but your mind goes blank. You're still trying to process his words. 
“I had no idea you felt that way,” you eventually manage to say. “Honestly, I didn't even know if you remembered who I was.”
“You're kinda hard to forget.”
“Oh,” is what manages to come out of your mouth. You feel dizzy.
“What do you mean, courage?” you ask him. 
“Hm? Oh, I mean you’re just so… out of my league.”
You let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. It’s Seungkwan’s turn to look confused. 
“It's true!” he proclaims. 
You gawk back at him. He laughs. 
“You look flabbergasted.”
“I am flabbergasted,” you concur. “You're the one who's way out of my league!”
He shakes his head. “You're crazy. But that's why I like you.” He drifts toward you even further, fully sitting beside you now. His shoulder brushes against yours. A rush of adrenaline pulses through your body. 
“That,” he continues, “and the fact that you're one of the smartest people I know. And kind. And funny. And…”
Gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his. 
“So beautiful.”
Without a further thought, you kiss him. 
He kisses you back, with such passion that can only be achieved by a prolonged period of yearning. He cradles your face in his hand, the other reaching for your waist under the water. You grasp his shirt in your fist, melting into the kiss you've been dreaming of for years. You slide your other hand underneath the drenched fabric of his tee, wrapping around to the small of his back, drawing him in even closer. He wraps both arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, squeezing your body tightly against his as his lips hungrily lock into yours. Your mind is completely devoid of any thoughts unrelated to Seungkwan - you only think of him, of his words to you, of the sensations of his figure touching yours, of the hardening form beneath his trousers pressing against your core. 
After what feels like a blissful eternity, your lips delicately part, your mouths lingering next to one another. You’re fully sat upon him now, straddling his thighs as he holds you tight in his arms. You slide your arms over his shoulders, shifting yourself upwards - ostensibly to position yourself more comfortably, but also conveniently grinding against the bulge in his swim trunks. He groans at the sensation.  
“Fuckkkkk.”
He looks up at you, longingly. You're both still somewhat inebriated, but sobered up enough from the adrenaline rush of physical touch. 
“What if we…,” you start, pausing to plant several kisses onto his soft cheeks. 
“...got out of here?”
His eyes light up with excitement. 
“We could head to my place-”
“Nuh-uh,” he interjects. “That'll take too long,” he  mumbles as he presses his mouth against your neck. You let out an involuntary noise. 
“I've waited long enough. I want you now.”
His voice grumbling in your ear makes your pussy ache. 
“I happen to be staying the night in the guest bedroom,” he tells you as he runs his fingers gently up and down your back. “Upstairs - third door on the left at the end of the halfway.”
You draw your face back, pressing your forehead against his. 
“Well that's convenient.”
He grins. “You go first. I’ll join you in a couple minutes.”
You quickly dry off, don your coverup, and enter the buzzing house. You worry that someone is going to see you heading upstairs and ask you what you're doing - but nobody even seems to realize you're there. They're all too drunk to notice or give a shit. 
Acting as if you belong there, you head up the large staircase. Upstairs you find a ridiculously long hallway - you approach the third door on the left, giving a soft knock in case anyone else has decided to use the room for similar purposes. Hearing nothing from the other side, you enter. The guest room is fairly large, equipped with the usual furnishings, with Seungkwan’s bag and things tidily placed in their appropriate spots. A king size bed with expensive-looking sheets and a plethora of pillows awaits. 
Before you can even start to overthink everything, the room is flooded with light from the door opening abruptly. Startled, you turn around to see the light extinguished as quickly as it appeared as Seungkwan shuts the door behind him and turns the lock. He arrived shirtless - which makes sense considering that his t-shirt would've been sopping wet due to him wearing it in the pool, but his unexpected half-nakedness certainly makes your insides jolt. Even in the dimness of the room, even with damp strands of hastily towel-dried hair laying disheveled across his forehead, he is strikingly hot. 
“That was fas-”
“Couldn't wait,” he says as he grabs your face, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You grasp onto the bulge in his shorts, squeezing lightly. He moans into your mouth as he kisses you still. You grab ahold of your coverup, starting to remove it, but his hands snap up to your wrists, stopping you. 
“Hold on,” he mutters, his lips barely separated from yours. 
His fingers delicately trace the swimsuit’s thin straps though the sheer outer fabric. He lifts his hand and cups your face in his palm, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. 
“I wanna watch.”
He pulls the desk chair out and sits down, his supple thighs spreading apart to accommodate what appears to be a thick fucking cock, still growing in size. 
You raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I’m only wearing a swimsuit, it's not gonna take long.”
“Take your time, baby.”
And so you make a show out of it. 
You caress your breasts through the sheer top, squeezing them gently. You run your fingertips over your nipples, causing them to harden and visibly poke through the swimsuit. Seungkwan moans at the sight of them, reaching his hand down to his cock and stroking it slowly through his shorts. 
You peel your outer garment off your body in slow motion, discarding it to the floor. You run your hands back down your body, hugging every curve; one hand returns to your breast, pinching your nipple, while the other keeps sliding down, finding your clit and massaging it lightly over the fabric. 
“God that's fucking hot.”
He reaches his hand into his shorts, letting out a pathetic whine as he touches himself. You feel your cunt throb beneath your fingers. 
“Take those off,” you plead.  
He gives a few more slow pumps before sliding his trousers off, tossing them aside. Your eyes widen as his length springs free, brushing against his stomach. He’s even bigger than you expected, not only long but fat. Genuinely, you're not sure how he could even possibly fit inside you - but that makes you crave it even more. 
Slowly you slide your swim top to the side, your erect nipple growing even harder in the cool air of the room. You run your hand over your bare tit, reaching across to expose the other. Seungkwan’s hand falls into a steady rhythm as he strokes his cock. He leans his head back, sinking into the chair, his eyes glazed over as they pore over your body. You continue, sliding the reminder of your swimsuit off and discarding it on the floor. He groans as his grip tightens, his pace increasing. 
You step forward. 
“Can I…”
You drop to your knees, sliding your hands onto his thighs, positioning your face in front of his cock. 
“Oh god, please,” he begs, nodding his head fervorously. 
You grab onto his cock, running your tongue from his balls to his tip. He moans, the sounds turning whinier as you begin to swirl your tongue around the head. By the time you take his entire length into your throat, he is full on whimpering. 
He places his hand upon your head, pushing down lightly. You slide your mouth up and down his cock, swallowing him so deep it makes you gag - but that only makes you wetter. He pushes your head down harder, pressure increasing more and more as his body writhes beneath you. 
“Oh my god baby,” he moans. “Fuckkkk y/n, ‘m gonna cum.”
His thighs begin to shake as he thrusts into your mouth, holding your head in place as he releases. Your eyes flood with tears as you choke on his size, hot spurts of cum deliciously hitting the back of your throat. His moans taper off as he comes down, his hand gently stroking your hair. You pull your mouth off his cock, looking up at him as you swallow all of his cum. 
“Jesus christ, you're so hot,” he praises as he catches his breath. After several silent moments of deep breathing, he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. His hands grasp your hips, pushing you toward the bed as he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste himself on you. You reach the side of the bed, the back of your legs bumping against the mattress; he swings you around, swapping places with you as he sits down. He plants a series of kisses on your stomach before gazing up at you, still high off his orgasm as revealed by his warm, glowing pink cheeks. 
“Will you sit on my face?”
You hesitate. You run your hands through his hair as you ask, “Are you sur-”
“Yes. Please.”
He lays down, resting upon the bed's many pillows. 
“You don't even know how many times I’ve dreamed of this.”
He pulls you onto the bed, on top of him. You crawl up toward his face, your pussy lingering in front of his lips. He grabs your hips again, pulling you onto his mouth. You cry out as he buries his face in your cunt, his lips and tongue traversing your soaked folds. 
“Fuck you're so wet,” he mumbles, refusing to remove his mouth from you any further. He begins to fuck you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit in a way that drives you fucking crazy. You grind your hips, the friction against your sensitive spot sending waves of pleasure through your body. You ride his face, hips bucking lightly as he eats you out like there’s no tomorrow. 
He drags his tongue up your slit, locking his lips around your clit, making you let out ungodly noises as he sucks on the throbbing bud. His arms wrap around your thighs, squeezing tightly as he holds you firmly against his face. He alternates between flattening his tongue against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it - the combination of sensations driving you over the edge. 
You grip onto the headboard, white-knuckled, as your legs begin to shake. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, looking down at the man whose face is buried in your cunt. He gazes at you, his eyes drunk with lust, taking in the sight of you moaning and losing your mind to his touch. “Seungkwan…”
Your orgasm takes over, riding out your climax upon his tongue. You clutch onto your breast, whimpering shamelessly, seeing stars as you cum all over his face. Time seems to stop as pleasure explodes through your whole being. 
His tongue slows as you come down, licking you softly as you brush your fingers through his tousled locks. With heavy breaths you climb off of his face, clinging to him as you lay next to him. Seungkwan quickly rolls over on top of you, his huge cock fully erect again - clearly extremely turned on by making you cum. 
You open your legs, aligning your soaked cunt with its head. 
“Fuck me,” you plead breathily. 
He slowly pushes his cock into you. As wet and ready as you are, nothing could have prepared you for his size. The stretch is instant, your walls forming around his thickness. You've never felt more full in your life. 
You let out a groan as he bottoms out, filling up your whole cunt. He begins fucking you, rhythmically pounding into you as his breath heaves with each thrust. You shift your hips, allowing him to go even deeper. He kisses you, pressing his lips against yours desperately, your moans unceasing but muffled against his mouth. Soon, he's fucking you hard - and it feels heavenly. 
“Harder,” you beg. 
His eyes devour you, his reddened cheeks glistening with sweat as he gives you every inch of his cock. His eyes close, his face scrunching up as his breathing grows heavy. 
“Gonna make me cum again, oh fuck…” he barely manages to get out before his moaning rises in pitch. He gets only a few more thrusts in before he pulls out; he grabs his cock and gives it several powerful strokes before he cums a second time, white ropes painting your dripping pussy and your stomach. 
With a deep exhale, he plops onto the bed right beside you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. His fingers graze over your body as he reaches for your breasts, squeezing them softly as he recovers, his chest rising and falling against you with heavy but slowing breaths. 
“That was…” he says as he strokes his hands softly against your cheek, turning your head to face him. 
“Wow.”
You let out a giggle, your head still spinning from getting dicked the fuck down. 
“Soooo…” he starts, shifting his body to lay comfortably on his side. “I promise I wasn't stalking you or anything, but I did hear that you got a job in the same city as me.”
You stare back at him, confused. 
“But I thought you were moving back to your hometown?” 
He smiles. “I was planning to, but at the last minute I decided to take this offer. I wanted to be closer to most of my friends. But - I happened to hear you'd be moving there too. And I’d be lying if I said that wasn't at least a little bit of a factor in my decision.”
Your eyes light up as you process his words. 
“Honestly, I only came to this party because I thought I’d never see you again,” you admit. 
He gives you a cheeky grin. “So you came here intending on hooking up with me.”
“No!!” you balk at him, but a smile spreads across your face too. “Well… maybe a little. I figured I had only one more chance to shoot my shot. And I knew I'd regret it if I didn't at least try.” 
He beams at you softly. “Well, I sure am glad you did.”
“Me too,” you beam back. 
“Though,” you add, “Now that you've rearranged my guts I think you should at least take me out to dinner.”
Seungkwan bursts out laughing. 
“You’re ridiculous,” he tells you, but he leans in for another kiss. 
“But I’d absolutely love to.”
—
taglist: @juyeonshour @bath1lda @miniseokminnies @myhimbomingi
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luvergirl-866 ¡ 16 days ago
Text
that’s so true
word count - 8.3k
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
c/w - language, toxic p/toxic relationship (situationship) (kinda toxic a too)? i guess you could call it angst? but it’s very unserious bc i’ve been doing too much serious stuff. fluff and happy ending. very dialogue heavy
a/n - i don’t usually like to incorporate music into my fics but the anon who gave this prompt specifically recommended it so i hope i did it justice! also, this takes place azzi’s freshman year so like 2021/2022, and i know this song didn’t exist then but this is fiction so i can do what i want 😛. hope yall enjoy!!!
They only have five minutes before they’re supposed to leave with everybody else to Ted’s. Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige Bueckers is very hot and also very much on top of her, and both of these things coincide to create quite the predicament: they can’t stop kissing.
It’s normal for them, lately. Kissing is easier than talking, considering talking has gotten harder since they started—whatever this is. Or maybe restarted is a better word, considering they did this same thing in high school. But back then, the kissing was a little clumsier, often fast and desperate, whereas now they’re older, mature (yeah, right) and they take their time with these things, often just making out for hours before they move on to other things, relishing in not having to worry about either of their parents or siblings barging in on them like they used to.
There’s also another difference—back then, they were dating. Like, introducing each other as their girlfriends, going on dates, holding-hands-in-public dating.
That’s different because today—and for the past six months—they’ve been decidedly not dating.
“We don’t need distractions,” Paige had said after they’d fucked, only a month after Azzi came to UConn. (They had both agreed to stay just friends—best friends—but nothing more. But then they had to live in the same building and watch each other get all hot and sweaty at practice and see each other in skimpy pajamas and who were they to blame, really, when they fucked in that club bathroom one heated but sober night? They had spent a year broken up, a year of being long-distance besties, FaceTiming and texting and posting each other on socials with captions like “happy birthday i miss you” and “come see me”. It honestly would’ve been wrong for them to not fuck.)
“Mm—Paige, wait,” Azzi whispers when they finally separate for air.
“What’s up,” Paige says, eyes roving over every inch of Azzi’s face. Her voice is a little raspy from lack of use and it does things to Azzi’s tummy.
“I—you don’t—we need to go,” Azzi urges, pushing at Paige’s shoulders. Paige, of course, just smiles at that, pressing her knee up in between Azzi’s legs. It’s really not her fault when she gasps a little.
Paige chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then between her eyebrows. “Do we?” she mumbles, pecking the tip of Azzi’s nose and the corner of her mouth. “Like, do we really?”
“Yes, Paige, we do.” Azzi moves one of her hands down to Paige’s occupied thigh, trying desperately to separate the toned muscle from her aching core. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“Definitely not as much fun as this is.”
“Well, we can continue later, when we get home.” That gets Paige to move her knee back, offering Azzi both relief and leaving an ache between her legs. She does her best to flash a sultry smile. “It’s a weekend. We can stay up all night if we want.”
Paige looks at her skeptically. “I thought you were stayin’ sober?”
Azzi moves her head back and forth. “Might not.”
“For real?”
“Uh-huh.” Azzi winds her arms around Paige’s shoulders, then scratches a little roughly down the length of her back, something Paige has always been into. It works, Paige’s jaw dropping just enough to show the pink of her tongue. “I want it, too, P. We just can’t ditch the team again. I think they already suspect us.”
“What?” Paige makes a face and scoffs. “Nah, we’re sneaky.”
“You called me babe in front of everyone at practice.”
“That’s a friend thing.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and plants a kiss on her lips, as if to prove just how friendly they are.
“Nika saw you basically groping me the other day, too.”
“I never did that.”
“My apartment, the kitchen. Movie night. I was making popcorn and you came up behind me and grabbed my tits.”
“Hm. Don’t remember that.”
“You said ‘I wanna fuck you from behind right now,’ and poor Nika walked in and stared at us and said, ‘This doesn’t look like you’re making popcorn’.”
Paige groans, dropping her head into Azzi’s shoulder and effectively laying the entire length of her body on Azzi’s. “I did wanna fuck you from behind. You were wearing those jeans…”
“Paige!”
“Okay, whatever.” Paige is a little muffled now, buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Her breath tingles, sending hot shivers up the length of her arm. “I do that to everyone, Nika won’t think anything of it.”
“Oh, really,” Azzi says, tone dropping into something utterly unamused, and Paige’s head pops up when she hears it. “So you say things like that to every bitch?”
Paige’s eyes widen. “No!” she grapples for something to say, and Azzi just raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t—I meant—I just didn’t wanna admit you’re right, I wasn’t—baby.” Paige juts out her bottom lip. It kinda works. “You know I wasn’t thinkin’.”
This is another interesting thing about their current situation: because they’re not dating, they’ve never discussed where they stand in terms of other people. Sure, at the very beginning, they agreed since it was just casual sex, there was no reason for them to be exclusive. They didn’t want to get anywhere near that line of the all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school, and they figured seeing other people—or at least having the option to do so—would steer them clear of that. And it worked for about…two seconds.
But then somewhere down the line things got a little blurry and slowly but surely Azzi stopped thinking of them as friends with benefits and as more of a slightly complicated but also fun situationship. Because at some point they started kissing without the goal of sex or even third base, just little pecks here and there when they had a second alone. And then they started staying a little longer each time after they’d fuck—at first, they’d leave directly after. But then they would stay for some basic aftercare, and then it got to full-on snuggling, and then it got to their clothes in each other’s apartments from how often they’d stay the night with each other. And the most recent development which really cemented things for Azzi: Paige has started using pet names outside the bedroom, something she only ever did while they were girlfriends. It’s only been a few weeks since this started and Azzi was absolutely floored when Paige had picked up her phone call with a, “Hey, baby.”
And now here they are, late for yet another night out because Paige is very clearly scandalized at the mere notion of her seeing another girl—even though it’s supposed to be allowed—and Azzi has to be honest, she doesn’t love the idea, either.
“Aw, c’mon,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t reply. “Don’t be mad at me, mama.”
Azzi blinks up at her, officially not jealous and not overthinking about their complicated situation any longer. “You’re stupid,” she teases, scooting back and sitting up.
Paige follows closely, so that by the time Azzi is propped up against the headboard she’s on her lap. “You’re really stopping us?” she asks.
“We’re already late, I’m sure everybody left without us,” Azzi says, tapping Paige encouragingly on the hip, “so yes.”
Paige doesn’t yet move and doesn’t look like she’s going to until a sharp knock at the door makes both of them jolt. “Hey!” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. “Y’all cannot be taking this long to get ready.”
“I don’t…we just…” Azzi stammers as Paige scrambles off her, and they both get quickly to their feet, making as little noise as possible, “our hair wasn’t cooperating,” she says, reaching up to fix Paige’s tousled hair. “We’ll be right out!”
“You better be, we’re all waiting outside and it’s fucking cold.”
“Coming!” Azzi calls, letting Paige wipe some of her smudged lip gloss, rolling her eyes when Paige smirks at her and says, “Oh, you will be.”
She has no idea what Paige Bueckers is to her, but an annoyance will always take the top spot.
————————————————
When Azzi had claimed she’d stay sober with the other freshmen, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that she has a best friend who loves to party and who loves peer pressuring even more.
“C’mon, just a few shots,” Paige pouts, leaning in too close to her. Azzi glances around the bar, trying to see if anybody is watching them, but she can’t tell. There’s too many people.
“Nobody can hear us,” Paige assures her, placing her hands low on Azzi’s hips, pressing her into the wall of the corner they’re semi-hidden in.
Azzi swears this girl is horrible for her blood pressure. “Paige,” she hisses, removing Paige’s hands, “not here.”
“You shoulda let us stay home,” Paige says, and now that her hands are placed firmly at her sides her eyes do all the wandering for them, raking slowly down Azzi’s body and back up. “I woulda had you fucked out by now, I swear.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Azzi mumbles.
“You seem anxious, baby.” Bravely, Paige holds her again, though this time it’s at a more friendly place, higher up on her waist. Azzi tries to meet her eyes but they’re held firmly on her lips. “Fuck. I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“No, Paige,” Azzi says, as sternly as possible. She would rather like to kiss her too, but not here, not now, not when Paige is tipsy and Azzi is horrendously sober.
“Okay, I’ma go get me another dirty shirley.” Azzi swears she would marry that drink if she could. “And I’ma grab a couple shots for you while I’m at it. And then we’re gonna fuck in the bathroom.”
Azzi smacks Paige on the arm. “I’m done with public restrooms. Once was enough.”
Paige, still sober enough to have some sort of common sense, wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m still grabbing shots.” She smacks a wet kiss onto her forehead and with that, turns around to head toward the bar.
Azzi doesn’t get a second of peace before someone else is sidling up to her. Though when she looks over she sighs with relief when it’s just Caroline. “Hey, Carol.”
“You’re so lucky you have a girlfriend who’ll buy you shots,” Caroline says, looking wistfully in Paige’s direction.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Caroline side-eyes her. “Uh-huh.”
“She’s not. We broke up.”
“And then got back together.”
Azzi shoves her away before pulling her back, linking their arms together as she leads them towards their team’s section of seats. “Nope. We’re still exes.”
“Exes who are romantically involved.”
“Carol,” Azzi groans, urging her to shut up as they approach the rest of the girls. “We’re just friends.”
It used to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, lying to her closest friend, the one whose shoulder she cried on when she and Paige broke up. But after six months of doing it, she’s used to it. And it’s not like Caroline believes her, anyway.
“Okay,” Caroline says skeptically. “So if the guy that’s been looking at you since we got here asked for your number, you’d give it to him?”
They’re at the team’s booth now, and Amari perks up at the mention of the slightest possibility of drama. “What guy?”
“I haven’t noticed a guy,” Azzi says, which is the truth. As it usually goes, she’s only had eyes for Paige tonight.
“Over there,” Carol says, leaning against the table and gesturing subtly across the bar. “Muscle shirt.”
“Immediately no,” Azzi replies, not even looking for him in the group of guys across the room. But he must be actively searching her out because just as she’s about to look away she catches his eye, and even though she immediately looks away, she can still see him grin out of the corner of her eye.
“Uh-oh,” Amari mutters. “You engaged him.”
“Don’t make eye contact,” Azzi says, turning away from him to face her friends. “Make yourself unapproachable.”
Caroline turns away, too, and the two of them lean over the table.
Aaliyah looks up from the conversation she was having. “What’re you guys doing?”
“Hiding,” Azzi hisses.
Amari peeks around Azzi’s shoulder, then settles back in her seat. “He’s coming over.”
“What?” Azzi wants to look at him but doesn’t, instead inching herself closer to Caroline. “Save me.”
“Who is that?” Aaliyah asks, not-so-subtly staring at the guy.
“A man about to flirt with Azzi,” Caroline says, nudging her away.
“Oh, Paige is gonna be maddd,” Aaliyah sing-songs, and they all giggle like this is funny and not absolutely awkward and stress-inducing.
Azzi glares at them. “She has no reason to be mad.” And it’s true, she kind of doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.
“Oh, yeah?” Caroline asks, glancing behind them just as Azzi feels the man come up behind her. “We’ll see about that.”
And then there’s a tap on her shoulder, and Azzi takes a deep breath before turning around with a strained smile on her face.
“Hey.” Muscle shirt is standing a little too close for comfort, which she’s sure he’ll excuse by the crowded bar but is obviously just him being weird. “You’re Azzi, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, leaning back against the table.
“I’ve seen you around,” he continues, smiling cockily, obviously very proud of himself for being brave enough to approach her. “You come here a lot, right? To Ted’s?”
Azzi shrugs, looking casually to her side in the hopes that Caroline will rescue her, but to her astonishment she has slid into the booth next to Aaliyah and is now chatting happily with the rest of the team. “I guess.”
“Noticed you weren’t with Bueckers,” he says, and she winces. Not five sentences into the conversation and he’s already brought up her current situationship. “Thought it was a good opening.” He laughs. She doesn’t.
“How so?” she asks, a little nervously.
“I mean, she obviously doesn’t want anybody coming near you.” A girl squeezes past behind him and he takes it as an excuse to inch even closer to her. Azzi presses herself further back into the table. “Can’t even look your way without her looking like she’s gonna fight someone.”
“She’s just protective,” Azzi says. As if Paige would do that for any of their friends, as if that level of pure possessiveness is normal.
“Right.” He doesn’t sound fully convinced. “You didn’t ask my name.”
God. Why are men so…gross? “My bad.” He stares at her expectantly. “Uh…so…?”
“I’m Elliot,” he says, grinning at her. That muscle shirt is really not doing good things for him. “You want me to buy you a drink?”
“Um, actually—“
“She’s good.”
Azzi’s shoulders sag at the mere sound of Paige’s voice. She can’t help but smile when Paige approaches them, moving roughly past Elliot to sidle up next to her. She hands her two brightly colored shots before slinging an arm around her, firmly ignoring Elliot. “Gotchu these. Lemme know if you don’t like ‘em.”
Azzi nods, and usually she’d shy away from the physical contact, especially right in front of their friends, but now she leans into it, safe under Paige’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I took so long.” As if sensing her discomfort—which she probably can—she rubs her thumb soothingly over her shoulder. “They’re super busy up there. You okay?”
Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Elliot interrupts her. “She’s fine, dude. We’re just talking.”
Paige looks at him. “Aight. Well, you can be done talking now.”
Their teammates have gone mostly quiet behind them, and Azzi rolls her eyes when she hears them snickering.
Elliot scoffs, but he’s skinny and a little shorter than Paige, and when her arm tightens around Azzi’s shoulder he puts his hands up. “Damn, okay.”
Azzi breathes a sigh of relief when he’s gone. “Thank god. That was so awkward.”
“You shoulda called me,” Paige says, dropping her arm to turn around and face their teammates. “And y’all shoulda helped her out.”
The girls look up at them innocently. Amari smiles charmingly at Paige and says, “We knew you were gonna do it soon enough.”
Azzi shakes her head and downs one of the shots. It is as disgusting as it looks.
“You guys suck,” Paige says, pulling Azzi into her side once again. “Leaving my girl in the trenches like that.”
Dozens of eyebrows raise at that, and it’s then that Azzi smells the booze on Paige’s breath. She flushes, trying to pull away. “P,” she mutters.
“I know,” Paige says, holding fast to Azzi’s waist, setting her shirley on the table so she can wrap the other around her, too.
“Paige,” Azzi urges, pressed completely now into Paige’s chest and trying desperately to ignore the scrutinizing looks from her teammates. She hopes they’re all too drunk to think hard about Paige’s behavior.
“Yeah,” Paige says, her hand creeping slowly down Azzi’s back.
“Did you have another drink?” Azzi asks, trying to walk them away from the booth, but Paige keeps her feet planted.
“I might’ve had another shot.” Paige grins, and Azzi would easily admit she likes it a lot more than muscle shirt’s. “Missed you, baby.”
The girls are pretending not to eavesdrop, but they’re clearly listening, sharing furtive glances with each other. Which is just—great. Because tomorrow the girls are going to have questions and Paige will be sober enough for that to stress her out, which will in turn stress Azzi out, and there will be no saving face if she lets Paige continue on like this.
“Not now, Paige,” she hisses, trying desperately to push her back.
Paige pouts. Their faces are far too close together. “What, you wanna go back to that guy or sum’?”
Azzi knows she’s not serious, but it still annoys her, and she doesn’t feel quite as comforted in Paige’s arms anymore. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood.”
Paige scoffs, maybe a little more serious now. “Course you aren’t.”
Azzi blinks at her, and when Paige’s hands drop to her sides she takes a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I dunno.” Paige gestured between them. “Just that you never wanna be around me unless we’re fu—“
Azzi’s overstimulated and irritated, but she still has enough common sense to shove Paige hard enough to shut her up. “Don’t.”
Paige watches as Azzi drinks her other shot. “What? You really don’t want anybody to know, huh? You that embarrassed or something?”
Azzi shakes her head in disbelief, stepping back towards Paige so they can at least have this conversation too quiet for anybody to hear. “Are you dumb? You’re the one who wanted to keep this secret.”
“Because I didn’t want my teammates thinking I was distracted!”
“Our teammates, Paige.” Azzi gives her another little shove for good measure, and then she steps away again. “You’re acting stupid. Go chill out and come back when you wanna be normal.”
“Fine. I will.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. Azzi rolls her eyes at her hot-headedness. They’re both too stubborn for their own good, but Paige is ten times worse when she’s drunk and Azzi has always been more logical. Little, senseless arguments like this never happened when they were dating—or even when they were broken up—but now that they’re at this weird in-between, they’re becoming more frequent.
Hence why they prefer to kiss instead of talk.
Azzi plops down beside Amari, grateful when nobody questions her, and feels a little better when she thinks about how good the make-up sex will be later.
—————————————
There will be no make-up sex tonight. Or ever, Azzi thinks bitterly, glaring daggers at the girl Paige is currently feeling up.
Okay, feeling up might be an overstatement. She has a hand on her arm. But Azzi knows better than anyone that for Paige, hand-on-arm action might as well be foreplay. And the girl seems to sense it, too, if her batting eyelashes and twinkling smile have anything to show for it.
“She’s just doing it to make you jealous.” Once again, it’s Caroline, sidling up next to Azzi to study the tall blonde across the bar.
“I have no reason to be jealous,” Azzi all but spits out, and Caroline smirks.
“Pretend all you want, Az. But it’s impossible to not see what’s going on with you and her.”
“There’s nothing.” Paige’s fingers trail down the length of the girl’s arm and it’s almost like Azzi can feel it, too.
“Are you guys exclusive?”
“No,” Azzi responds immediately, too tipsy to be thinking straight, and when Caroline smiles proudly to herself, she backtracks. “I mean, obviously not. We’re not anything.”
“Well, if you’re not exclusive, she’s not doing anything wrong.”
Azzi hates this bitter reminder and turns her anger onto her best friend. “Shut up, Carol.”
“You two should probably talk about not seeing other people,” Caroline says, as wise and perceptive as ever. (She is also significantly more sober than Azzi is.)
“She can see whoever she wants,” Azzi seethes, stirring the ice in her drink. “I don’t care.”
Paige’s eyes flit from the girl’s face to Azzi. And then, with a little smirk, she leans in to whisper something in her ear, blue eyes never leaving brown as the girl giggles and grabs onto her arm. She smiles, too, and Azzi takes some satisfaction in the fact the girl has no idea she’s not the one Paige is doing this for.
She’s always been good at putting up a show. And Azzi has always been her captive audience.
Not tonight, Azzi decides as she looks firmly away. It’s about time Paige learns to behave herself.
—————————————-
It’s been a long night of drinking and trying not to watch Paige attach herself to this random girl’s hip when Azzi is approached by none other than random girl herself.
She’s gorgeous up close, but Azzi can’t help but notice her brown curls and crescent dimples, the way they’re the exact same height. It nearly makes her laugh.
“Hey,” the girl says, dropping into the bar seat next to Azzi.
“Uh,” Azzi says, vey tipsy and very irate. “Hey.”
“What’s that? It looks so good,” the girl asks, pointing to her drink. Her voice is soft and kind, nothing malicious gleaming in her eyes. Azzi hates it.
“Just a mango daiquiri,” Azzi responds, kind of unable to be snarky about it with the wide-eyed way the girl is looking at her.
“Oh, fancy! I’m definitely gonna cop that.” She smiles conspiratorially at her. Azzi can’t help but smile back. Okay, now she just kind of hates herself. She’s never been one to be rude to girls she’s jealous of. Especially not harmless, sweet ones.
“It’s so good,” she’s saying before she can help it. “And they come in all different flavors so there’s like, endless possibilities.”
“Stop,” the girl gasps.
“I know!” and then they both giggle like the tipsy college students they are. This is possibly even better than hating her, because it’s almost like a smack in the face: look at me, Paige, being the bigger person. Making best friends with your target of the night. How’s that feel?
“Hey,” the girl giggles, leaning her elbows on the bar. “You’re Azzi, yeah? You play so good.”
“Thank you!” Azzi gushes, flashing her dimples as the girl does just the same. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Haven,” she replies. Even her name is nice. Azzi thinks about how Paige must’ve thought the same thing when they met a few hours ago, but she doesn’t like the thought, so she pushes it firmly away.
“Hey,” Haven says, sounding suddenly hesitant. “Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. About…Paige?”
Azzi’s eyes snap to where the blonde sits at the team’s booth—she always seems to know where Paige is in a room, though she never remembers tracking her movements—before she quickly looks back to Haven. “What about her?”
“Well…that,” she says.
“What?” Azzi asks, stirring her drink casually.
“The reaction you just had to me saying her name.”
Okay, so Azzi apparently does not appear as cool and collected as she thought. “Oh, that was just—I mean, she’s my best friend.”
“Yeah?” Haven asks. “Because I kinda got the impression y’all were…”
“No,” Azzi says, trying to contort her features into something like disgust. “Ew. Never.”
Haven raises her eyebrows. “Never?”
Why is everybody deciding to clock Paige and Azzi’s shit tonight? “Okay, like, maybe at one point. But it’s over.”
“Really.” She does not sound convinced at all. Glancing over at Paige, Haven leans forward, as if she’s afraid they’ll be heard. “It’s just, she keeps looking at you and you keep looking back and she was all over you earlier, so like—“
“I wouldn’t say she was all over me.”
“She totally was.” Haven’s looking at her like she’s clueless. “I just…listen, Paige invited me over tonight.” Azzi’s stomach drops. So definitely no make-up sex then. In fact, Azzi might as well pack up her vagina right now because Paige has ruined everybody else for her, too. “And I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything,” Haven continues, completely oblivious to Azzi’s internal vow of celibacy, “especially nothing messy.”
“Yeah, no, I totally get that.” Azzi sighs heavily; considering their situation is exactly what one might describe as messy, Azzi figures it’s probably the right thing to do to tell this poor girl the truth. “To be honest, we kinda are…I dunno. I mean, we fuck.”
“Okay,” Haven nods, sounding not at all surprised.
“She stays over most of the time. I stay at her’s sometimes, but she mostly stays at mine.”
“Spare toothbrushes in each other’s bathroom?”
Azzi winces. “Possibly.”
“Yeow.”
“And, like, generally, we don’t see other people. We used to, at the beginning, but not anymore. We were just talking about it today, actually. Well, not talking about it—we don’t talk about stuff. We’re not serious enough for Paige to wanna talk about stuff.” Azzi is rambling now, and Haven is hanging onto her every word, and Azzi thinks she loves making fast friends with other girls then realizes this is the exact thing that happens every time she gets drunk. Perhaps she crossed over that line awhile ago.
The two of them have their heads close together now, the rest of the bar completely shut out. “But anyway, she said something and I was like, what, you say that to all your bitches? You know, mostly joking but not.”
“Of course.”
“And she was all, no, baby, I would never ever have other bitches, don’t be mad,” Azzi says, deepening her tone in a stupid caricature of Paige’s voice.
Haven gasps. “That was today?”
“Like ten minutes before we came here.”
“And then she was all up on me tonight.” Haven glares in Paige’s direction. “Damn.”
“I know. But like, yeah, we’re not exclusive or anything so it’s fine. But it’s not, you know?”
“Oh, for sure. That’s fucked up,” Haven says haughtily. “So, wait, how long has this been going on for?”
“Uh…six months?” but no, that doesn’t feel right. “Well, I guess, like, four years? But six months.”
Haven blinks at her.
Azzi sighs. “We were super serious in high school.”
Haven nearly screams, slamming her hand on the bar. “She’s your ex?”
“Yes!” Azzi cries, and it feels so, so good for someone to understand her situation. “We were so in love and shit! And then things started feeling weird the summer before she came here—because, like, I’m a year younger than her so she was gonna be in college while I was still in high school and I—I could tell she didn’t wanna be tied down by her lame hometown girlfriend so I ended things.”
“Girl!” Haven yells.
“I had no other choiceeee,” Azzi groans. “She woulda broken up with me if I hadn’t broken up with her.”
“You’re crazy,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That girl is down bad.”
“Stop,” Azzi says, waving her off.
“She is, horrendously.” Haven gestures over to Paige. “As soon as you got to UConn she wanted to start something with you, right? And then y’all have a little tiff and she’s doing the most with another girl just to get your attention?”
“She asked you to go home with her,” Azzi points out. “That definitely wasn’t for my benefit.”
“Um, I’m sorry, have you not noticed how scary alike we look?” Haven asks, and Azzi flushes. “She was definitely gonna pretend I was you. Which I’m not down for, like, at all.”
“She’s such a dick,” Azzi says. Because she may have been in love with Paige Bueckers since high school, but yeah, she’s still kinda a dick.
“Totally,” Haven agrees. “But…
“Don’t tell me you’re about to defend her.”
“Listen!” Haven places her hands on Azzi’s shoulder. “I think her heart’s in the right place. She wants you. She’s just a little…misguided.”
Azzi shakes her head. “She was the one who said we couldn’t be serious. She said we couldn’t have ‘distractions’.”
“And you didn’t stop to think that maybe she was still insecure and hurt by the fact you broke up with her and was protecting herself from getting hurt again?”
Azzi blinks at this drunk, genius girl in front of her. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. You know what, I’m starting to think maybe you’re both a little stupid.”
Azzi shoves her. “Don’t get so cocky, you could be wrong!”
“I could,” Haven admits. “But where would that leave you? With an asshole ex-girlfriend who messes with your head for fun?”
Azzi thinks maybe, if they didn’t look so uncannily alike, she could kiss this girl. “I love you.”
“Girl, I love you more.” Haven pats her arm and leans back on her barstool. “Now take Auntie Haven’s advice and give her the silent treatment for a few days. She’ll realize her mistakes and come running back real quick.”
“What if I don’t wanna take her back?” Azzi says, already knowing it’s bullshit.
“You do. But you gotta make her work for it. And then you have to communicate with her.”
Azzi makes a face. “Didn’t I already tell you we don’t like talking?”
Haven rubs her temples. “There’s your main fucking problem, Azzi.”
It’s then that Haven’s eyes trail to something over her shoulder and before Azzi can ask there’s a large, warm, all-too-familiar ringed hand on her shoulder. “What’re you two talking about over here?”
Azzi looks first at the hand on her shoulder, then slowly up to Paige’s face. Paige raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and then Azzi looks back at Haven, meeting her eyes.
And then they laugh.
“What?” Paige nearly demands.
Azzi brushes her hand off, still giggling. “Leave us alone, Paige.”
“I just didn’t know y’all knew each other,” Paige says, and Azzi delights at how confused she sounds. “Because you two seem pretty buddy-buddy over here.”
“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely,” Haven quips. Azzi giggles.
“Never said I was.” Paige moves from behind Azzi, going to stand beside them, studying them closely. “You two are drunk as hell.”
“So are you!” Haven and Azzi both say at the same time, and tears are forming at this point. Azzi holds on to Haven’s knee to keep herself from falling off her chair.
“Aight, yeah, I’m getting you an Uber,” Paige says to Haven, before touching Azzi’s arm, “And I’ma walk you home.”
“I can get my own Uber,” Haven says haughtily, but Paige already has her phone out.
Once again, Azzi bats Paige’s hand away. “I don’t wanna go home with you.”
Paige rolls her eyes, still navigating through her phone. “I figured, Az. But we live in the same building. Just lemme walk you.”
“You’re not sober enough to walk me.”
“I’ve been drinking water for the past hour, I’m pretty much good.” Paige shuts her phone off and looks at Haven. “You car’ll be here in fifteen.”
“Wish you were pretty much good a couple hours ago,” Azzi grumbles.
Paige’s expression becomes a little less nonchalant at that. “I know, mama, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
And that almost works. But then Haven sends her a warning glare and she straightens up. “No, thanks.”
Paige’s face scrunches up like it always done when she’s shocked, and Azzi hates that it’s still the cutest thing in the world. “Whatchu mean?”
“Exactly that,” Azzi says, standing from her barstool. Her butt is sore from sitting for so long. “And I’ll walk home with the rest of the team, thanks.”
Paige splutters. Haven gives her the middle finger.
—————————————
Later, when they are walking home—stumbling, more accurately—Azzi is leaning against Aubrey when she hears familiar footfalls coming up behind them and braces herself.
“Hey, Azzi,” Paige calls, catching her arm as she catches up. “Come walk with me.”
“I wanna walk with Aubrey,” Azzi says petulantly.
Aubrey looks awkwardly between the two of them.
“Bro, just—“ Paige stops, mindful of their audience. “Let’s just talk, okay?”
“No, thanks.”
“Azzi, c’mon.”
“I’m drunk and I’m cold and I’m mad at you. Leave me alone.”
Paige looks desperately to Aubrey for help. Aubrey just shrugs and says, “What’m I supposed to do? She said what she said.”
“Thank you,” Azzi huffs.
“Man, fuck this,” Paige says. Azzi feels very satisfied when Paige falls back, leaving her alone. But her arm also tingles where Paige had caught it.
Oh, yeah. This makeup sex had better be good for the trouble she’s going through.
—————————————
It isn’t until the next day that, during a car ride with Caroline, Azzi disovers it.
The two of them have always had similar music tastes, so when an unfamiliar song comes on over the speaker, she’s a little surprised. However, as she listens to the lyrics, she finds herself even more surprised at how much they resonate with her.
I could go and read your mind
Think about your dumb face all the time
Living in your glass house I’m outside
“Hey,” she says, “what song is this?”
“That’s So True,” Caroline answers, still staring ahead at the road. “By Gracie Abrams. Why?”
Looking into big blue eyes
Did it just to hurt me, make me cry
Smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life
“Oh,” Azzi says casually, “no reason.”
——————————————
It becomes very apparent there is a reason when, over the next week, the song becomes everyone else’s problem.
So apparent, in fact, that the team actually starts to worry about her.
“What did you do to her?” Aaliyah asks as soon as Paige walks into the apartment.
“You broke her,” Amari says.
“That stupid song kept me up all night and it’s your fault,” Aubrey continues, pointing menacingly at Paige.
“I didn’t do nothing!” Paige says, backing away from her angry friends.
“You better fix it,” Amari says. “Like, now.”
“Fix what?”
Oddly, they all go quiet at this. Paige is about to ask what’s up with them when music begins blasting from somewhere in the dorm.
“That,” Aaliyah says.
Paige scrunches her nose. “Bad pop music?”
“It is not bad,” Caroline says defensively, joining them in the entryway. When she gets judgmental looks from the other girls, she sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t bad. But Azzi’s been listening to it nonstop for a week and it used to be my favorite song and now I’m sick of it.”
“We’re all sick of it,” Amari adds unhelpfully.
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Paige says, but of course she’s lying. From what she can make out the lyrics are about a break up, maybe, something to do with jealousy and anger. With the way Azzi’s been dodging her this week (calls sent straight to voicemail, texts left on read, not even a hint of eye contact when they see each other) she knows she fucked up at the party.
It’s not like them to fight—really, it’s not. They’ve gotten into more arguments this year than they have in their entire friendship. Obviously, there’s a correlation there, something major signaling that this whole friends-with-benefits thing doesn’t work for them. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the whole best-friends-who-dated-then-became-exes-then-friends-with-benefits thing that they can’t do.
But either way—fights? Like, actual fights that Paige can’t talk (or kiss) their way out of? Those are rare.
She didn’t think their argument at the bar was that big a deal. Didn’t even think her flirting with another girl would make Azzi mad. (She’d been hoping for jealousy because dysfunctional as they may be, the sex is really good and it’s even better when one of them is all riled up).
She has a sneaky feeling this all has to do with that girl at the bar. Haven. The cute one who looked a lot like Azzi and seemed super into Paige until she turned around and became best friends with none other than Azzi herself. She should’ve known that would happen. Azzi always makes friends when she gets drunk.
She just wishes this bout of silence (and celibacy) between them would end already.
“You can’t be serious,” Amari says.
Paige shrugs.
“We all know you two are fucking, Paige,” Caroline says quite bluntly.
And, okay, the sheer panic that Paige feels at this is maybe a little ridiculous.
She never wanted the team—anyone, really—to know she and Azzi were back together. Because, well, they weren’t, for one, and there’s no good way to tell your parents, “Hey, you know how I was super emo about how the love of my life broke up with me before college? Yeah, well, it’s been a year and I’m not totally over it but I fucked her in the bathroom at a club and we’re going steady—as in, fucking—now!”
But the main reason she didn’t want anybody to know is because she was—is—so afraid of having her heart broken again. And if she keeps this to herself, then she gets to act like she doesn’t care if history repeats itself. Gets to move on and not think about it and use other people as rebounds without anybody batting an eye.
But it’s been six months of them going from friends with benefits to best friends who also kiss and have sex to best friends who kiss and have sex exclusively with each other. She may have gotten a little too cocky, may have thought they were finding solid ground, and may have not put so much effort into hiding it.
But Azzi hasn’t spoken to her for a week and she doesn’t even remember what solid ground feels like anymore so yeah, the notion of her friends knowing about them when they may be on the brink of ending is a little scary.
“Okay,” Amari says tentatively when Paige stares blankly at them, “don’t freak. It’s not a big deal. We don’t care.”
“No, I—I know,” Paige stutters.
“Seriously, P, it’s cool,” Aubrey says, patting her shoulder. “Just, you know, go fix it.”
That song has played three consecutive times since this conversation started. They may be right. Paige might’ve broken her.
Might’ve broken them.
“And while you’re at it,” Caroline adds, giving her a little push in the direction of Azzi’s room, “make sure you guys are official so we don’t have to deal with this again.”
Paige tries to plant her feet to prevent her advance towards Azzi, but Aubrey rounds to her front and starts pulling at her arms while Amari pushes and then she’s directly in front of a door with a pink ‘welcome’ sign hanging off the front. As that song thuds accusingly through the door, Paige doesn’t feel very welcome.
“Okay, stop being a pussy,” Aaliyah pipes up from behind them, “and go in there. Please.”
“Make it stop,” Aubrey says. She almost sounds like she’s about to cry.
Paige stares at them, wondering if they’re really going to make her do this. But they all nod at her before disappearing down the hall so it’s just Paige in front of Azzi’s door and she could leave, could just go back home but she’d never hear the end of it from her teammates. (And she might end up hating herself if she does that, too.)
So, with a deep, steadying breath, Paige lifts her fist and knocks.
“Coming,” Azzi calls. Blessedly, the song turns off and there’s some rustling inside before the door creaks open.
Paige expects a lot of things when Azzi first sees her—anger, upset, a door slamming in her face.
What she doesn’t expect is the satisfied smile that flits across Azzi’s face before she carefully fixes her expression into something more somber.
“Uh, hey,” Paige says. “Can I—“
“Come in,” Azzi says gravely, opening the door all the way to let her through.
“Uh, aight.” Nervously, Paige walks past Azzi, a little afraid that is some sort of trap based off the strange way she’s acting. Once she’s inside and the door’s shut, she faces the younger girl, though doesn’t quite look her in the eye. “So, I just…you know, about the other night. At Ted’s.”
Azzi nods. “Go on.”
“Well, I know I started that lil argument and I feel bad.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was just drunk and I wanted your attention so I acted stupid.”
Azzi crosses her arms impatiently. Paige wishes she had written this down and practiced beforehand or something.
“And with that other girl—“
“Her name’s Haven,” Azzi says sharply.
Paige blinks at her, surprised. “Yeah. Her. Well—“
“She’s actually really nice. We’ve been texting.”
Paige can’t help but scoff a little at that. “What, you gonna leave me for her or sum’?”
“We look related, so no,” Azzi says, raising an eyebrow. “And if I remember right, I thought it was you asking her to come to your place that night.”
Shit. So the two of them really did talk about everything. That’s not great for her.
“I didn’t mean it,” Paige says, which is very much true—she doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Haven had agreed to come over that night, but she certainly wouldn’t have kissed her. “I just, we were arguing and I wanted to make you jealous so we could, like, kiss and make up.”
Azzi crosses the room to sit on her bed, and Paige hovers awkwardly, wondering if she should follow. She decides on staying put. “I was jealous,” Azzi says. “But it just pissed me off.”
“I know, and it was a stupid thing to do.”
“I just—I thought we weren’t really, like, seeing other people.”
Paige freezes. This is completely outside of argument-at-Ted’s territory and it seems a little more like serious-talk-about-us time. Which Paige is just not prepared for at all. She should’ve made notecards for this.
“I mean—we aren’t—but, like…” Paige trails off, and she knows it’s bad how uncertain she sounds when hurt flashes over Azzi’s expression.
“Have you? Been seeing other people,” she asks, and Paige can tell she’s trying to sound nonchalant, putting on a brave face, but in reality she’s terrified of the answer.
Paige rushes to reassure her. “No, Az, no. Not a—seriously, not a single person. Not since that day at the club.” Not since the day Azzi came to UConn, if she’s being a little more accurate. But Azzi doesn’t need to know that.
Again, Azzi tries to act like it doesn’t affect her. But Paige knows her far too well—far too intimately—to miss the way her features relax, her shoulders lowering just a little bit. “Me neither,” she says softly.
Paige lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding at that. “Okay.”
“So…what does that mean?” Azzi asks tentatively.
Now that Azzi seems a little less guarded, Paige takes her chance to sit beside her on the bed, though not too close. “I dunno,” she says lamely, but when she’s met with a heavily annoyed silence, she sighs and tries desperately to think something up. “I mean. We can’t really be casual and exclusive. That’s not really how that works.”
“Yeah,” Azzi says.
Paige waits for her to pick up the conversation at least a little, but she doesn’t, and Paige is forced to go on. “I don’t—I think it’s not even something I want anymore. The whole casual thing.”
It’s hard, getting the words out, like each syllable is a barrier being broken, and maybe it is. Paige looks down at her hands, fiddles with them, anything so she doesn’t have to watch Azzi’s reaction.
“Paige,” Azzi says quietly.
And when Paige catches the hesitancy in her tone—the fear—she is suddenly too desperate and maybe even too in love to keep quiet just because it’s hard. Because she can’t do this, not again. She can’t watch Azzi walk away without at least putting up a fight.
“I know what I did was wrong,” Paige blurts out before Azzi can say anything else. She looks up, stares at the wall ahead, before turning to Azzi. She tries to detect the look in her eyes and what it may mean, but can’t. “At Ted’s. And I’m sorry. I guess I just—these past six months have been so—I mean, they’ve been good, but they’ve also been super fucking confusing and kinda scary, too. It’s like I’m always on edge waiting for you to end things, so whenever we get too close to how we were—before, in high school—I back out, no matter how hard it is. No matter how good it feels to have you again.”
Azzi opens her mouth, the beginning of a word escaping, but Paige’s heart races and she stands, stopping her. “But I’m realizing that I don’t think I can do that with you. I don’t think I can be just friends with you, or friends with benefits, or even whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing. Every day since you ended things I’ve been a fucking wreck, Azzi.” And it’s true. Her freshmen year had been hard, spent sleeping with random caramel-skinned, dimpled girls to try and fill the Azzi-shaped void in her heart. And the summer after was hell, too, reconnecting with Azzi long-distance and trying to become friends again, acting like they were never anything more. And the past six months has been the worst of it all, because having Azzi but not really having her, keeping her at an arm’s length and teetering on this edge of will she do it again and when will it happen proving almost painful.
Azzi stands, too, stepping in front of her, tilting her chin just slightly up to make eye contact like she’s always had to do. “I didn’t want that, Paige,” she says, almost as if she’s pleading. “I wanted—I thought you’d have more fun if you were single. I thought you’d resent me for, like, tying you down.”
Paige looks at Azzi for a solid few seconds, trying to discern whether she’s fucking with her. And when Azzi doesn’t laugh or tell her this was all a stupid prank she turns around, pushes her hand through her hair, and then faces her again. “Are you fucking for real?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says sheepishly. “I thought—I don’t know. I was also sixteen and stupid and insecure, and I just wanted to make you happy. I didn’t think about what I wanted.” She looks down at her feet. “Didn’t realize how hard it’d be.”
“Yeah, you were stupid,” Paige snaps, and when Azzi flinches, she takes a step towards her. “You really thought that I’d—what, not want you? Want to fucking break up so I could hoe around?”
“Kind of!” Azzi says, throwing her hands in the air. “Things already felt off that summer before you left—“
“Because I didn’t want to leave you!” Paige practically shouts, and she wonders briefly why they never bothered to discuss this before. “I had no idea what I was gonna do when we were so far apart, but you know what? We could have handled it. We could’ve handled a year. I wanted to handle it, if it meant we could stay together.” She takes another step closer, so they’re face-to-face now. “I thought you were bored of me or sum’, you know? I was so fucking hurt.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Azzi cries. “Obviously I wasn’t bored, Paige, or I wouldn’t have jumped your fucking bones the minute I got to school.”
“And obviously I didn’t wanna be single or I wouldn’t have let you!”
Silence washes over them, and Paige is sure she could hear a pin drop, almost as sure as she is that their teammates are thoroughly listening to this argument outside the door. But she doesn’t care. Not when she’s looking close-up at the girl she’s loved forever and seeing her for the first time in almost two years—inches apart without hidden hurt or secret regrets tucked between them.
They’re both breathing heavy, both affected by everything they’ve just said and everything that still needs to be said but it’s not a surprise that they hold each other’s gazes, both too stubborn to be the first to look away.
And when the eye contact becomes too much for Paige to bear, she decides she will not chicken out, will not let her trepidations hold her back this time. And she leans forward and kisses her.
They’ve kissed—a million times, probably. Maybe more. At this point, they’ve learned each other down to the last breath, the last hair on their heads. They know exactly where to put their hands, exactly how to tell what the other is feeling based off the way they move their lips, exactly what things to say in between kisses. But despite all that, this—this feels brand new. Gentle, and tentative, but excited, too, like they know it’s the mark of something different. Something better.
———————————-
A week later, when Paige appears at her doorstep with a nervous little smile and flowers to take her on their second-first date, Paige asks her about the ‘lame girly song’ she’d been playing on repeat. Azzi tells her the song is not, in fact, lame, and is actually really quite good. She doesn’t admit that she can’t listen to it anymore.
(And, because I know you’re all wondering—yes, the makeup sex was as good as Azzi’d hoped.)
394 notes ¡ View notes
mtheonott ¡ 1 month ago
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Are you serious? Not kidding?
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⌗ raw!reader, comf, declaration of love, drunk!TheodoreNott, party, jokes and banter, flirt
word count: 2.2k
note: I'm tired of writing this... but it seemed to work out fine.
Theodore, the smartest student at Hogwarts, stood at the classroom door, looking at the large and thick walls that had been cracked for a long time. The guy didn't like to think about time, it drove him crazy. He tried to look at his time at Hogwarts from a more positive perspective, even though he was doing poorly.
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The Slytherin noticed a human approaching out of the corner of his eye and turned around, "Ah... you're awake. I thought you were dead, sleeping beauty.", He grinned, keeping his hands on his hips.
A frail figure in a blue uniform was walking towards the guy along the empty corridor, clicking her heel, which was unforgivable for the Ravenclaw prefect. But we'll miss it. When you heard the greeting, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. A new day is a new batch of jokes and tricks. Nott just giggled at your reaction, waved at you and turned his head towards the classroom.
"Zabini suggested a drink after dinner. Are you with us?", He knew that you have a good relationship with a nice alcoholic. Standing next to him, you also looked at the closed doors. Transfiguration lesson. You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently stated, "I'll be busy." It is quite expected that a person like you will have things to do. But the guy's grin made it clear to you that he had come up with an interesting joke again.
"What's up? You didn't tell me. Have you found another boy who will make fun of you in the evenings?" You just sighed a little, "You're enough for me, nerd. I'm going to play chess with Potter."
Nott clicked his tongue, frowning. What an abomination, "Since when do you play chess? Are you trying to get closer to that ideal for half of Hogwarts?" You just giggled, slightly covering your mouth.
You've been in love with this Slytherin since freshman year and haven't looked at the other candidates. He is warmth and comfort. Calmness. Even though you don't want to admit it.
There was an orange landscape in the courtyard, which both Theodore and you liked, so your couple was in a better mood than the others.
"He offered, and I was just free. Nothing special," you said, looking a little more confident. Nott scratched his head, looking at his shoes, "You could have hung out with us then.", the guy sighed, "Okay. Come on, sleeping beauty."
He took your arm and led you to class. He took your arm. Took your arm for the first time. Your heart started pounding, literally trying to jump out of your chest. You followed him obediently, no matter where. All your thoughts were occupied by the fact that he was holding your hand.
The guy entered the office, which was filled with students. They were all waiting for the professor and watching another argument between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, not noticing Theo and you.
Nott came over to your desk, leading you along, "Hey?" he said, bringing you back to reality. You just looked at him absently and nodded. What for? You don't know. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."
The guy grinned, leaning towards you and resting his hands on the table, "Are you fantasizing about me? Baby, I can make all your dirty fantasies come true, just ask." He grinned and went to his friends, leaving you. You rolled your eyes and looked away. Idiot.
The girls have already taken you into their company, telling you about the latest gossip, and you were trying to distract yourself from thoughts of Slytherin. Just for a minute.
────────────────.✦
Basically, the day went as usual: boring lessons, Tarot cards (jokingly) at breaks, discussion of Daphne's outfit for the ball and Nott. Theodore Nott has taken literally every second of your time. Not just thoughts. The guy showed up at every break, at every meal, and at every free minute. It's fun for him. Maybe for you too.
In the evening, when Potter reported on important matters with "urgent questions," you still decided to go to Zabini. Why not?
Entering a noisy room, you waved to a familiar bunch of guys at the door, hugged your friends and only glanced at Zabini, who had already found a girlfriend for the evening. You'll say hello to him later. The main thing is different: Nott. He noticed you too and immediately stood up, inviting you to sit next to him, "Little witch, sit down.... It's good to see you."
Of course, sitting down with him is a bad idea. What if the jokes get to a physical level? Although, it's kind of good... nonsense. Okay, calm down. You sat down next to him, nodding at his greeting, "Potter is busy, I decided to stop by."
"Oh, so our hero is busy? It's a nuisance. Okay, here, ah... firewhisky and like... that’s all..." Nott looked thoughtfully at the table, remembering what else he could offer. Unable to think of anything, he turned to you and smiled. "You always have me, you can eat and drink me."
You raised an eyebrow and squinted in his direction, "Sorry, I'm on a diet. I prefer not to eat after 6"
The guy first blinked, trying to figure out your joke, and then grinned and nodded, "Yes, yes, I understand… I just, well..." He lazily pointed at a couple of bottles of alcohol. They were pointlessly empty on the table, almost shouting: "Nott is drunk out of his mind."
You nodded in disappointment, "Every time you're not in class, you're fucking around." Theo smiled brightly, closed his eyes and nodded confidently. Like a dog, which is not like him during lessons and Quidditch practice. "That's right. That's why I'm given a life here."
Sighing, you were about to get up, leaving the drunk guy, so as not to get any problems. You never know. But he stopped you by first pulling you by the arm, and then holding you by the shoulders with both hands. Nott made fake sad eyes and almost whimpered, "Heeeeey... stay with me, at least for a couple of minutes. You're always leaving in my dreams, and now..."
In dreams? What kind of nonsense is this? You tilted your head to the side and frowned, "Did you dream about me? What the..." Theo didn't let you finish. He put his finger on your lip, silencing you and leaned in, "It's a secret. It's better not to tell anyone that I have dreams at all. Suddenly, someone will get into my head..." he whispered, and then looked around. The guy met her gaze again and continued, "I heard someone here can do this."
Your surprised eyes slowly became irritated, "Nott, this is a story for children. Are you nuts?" The Slytherin laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling your collarbone. Your ears turned slightly red, which made you want to push him away so that no one would notice. But you didn't do it.
The guy said sleepily, "Did you know that you smell great? Patchouli, cedar leaves, bergamot... it smells like autumn." Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments like "Cool lipstick," "Wow, great styling," or "Cute boots." had no effect on you. But this description of your scent... Nott hugged you around the waist, breathing heavily, "You're right. I must be crazy to be in love with..." but he couldn't finish.
Blaze ruffled his hair, silencing him with his abrupt arrival and smiled happily at you, which made you feel calmer, "Hey! Did you come anyway? I see that the idiot is already drunk... keep an eye on him, and I'll leave with... uh... in short, with the pretty Gryffindor. Don't be bored."
You didn't even have time to greet him, let alone respond to his request. He disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone on that couch again. More precisely, there were people here... but they are not felt. Absolutely.
Nott looked out into the crowd, trying to spot his friend, but to no avail. Then he turned to you and grinned, drunkenly rather than cockily, "Would you sleep with Zabini?"
The question has brought you to a standstill. You stared at his alcohol-reddened face and blinked a little, "Well... you know, such questions shouldn't be asked. But I would rather answer no than yes." Theo nodded and rested his head on your shoulder again, which made your heart beat faster again, "And with me? Would you sleep with me, Y/n?" he muttered, closing his eyes.
You blushed again and swallowed, "You know... I'm not going to answer that question. This is unethical and uncivilized, Theodore Nott. "His hands were resting calmly, without movement, on your waist. He nodded again and sighed, "But I would with such a beauty." You are used to skipping such comments, it's not the first time you hear. But now your eyes were darting in different directions, nervously and touchily. You don't even understand why you're offended. Because he's drunk and says things like that? Maybe.
"Okay, Theo, let's go for a walk. Let's try to slow down the negative effects of alcohol's toxic substances on your brain." You gently helped him up, still holding him in your arms. Not because you wanted to, but because he wouldn't let you go. When you straightened up, he finally released you from his grip. Surprisingly, his drunken state still allowed him to walk and stand, but you still helped him get out of the noisy space.
The Slytherin common room was cold and empty. You quietly went out into the hallway of Hogwarts, holding his hand. Nott didn't take his eyes off you, smiling drunkenly. After looking around, you walked on, wandering through the already night-time corridors of the school. He was still holding your hand, now looking at the floor. The silence was pleasant rather than embarrassing. Quiet footsteps, rustling of clothes, faint wind and sighs. Nothing more.
After going out to Ravenclaw Tower, you went to the window overlooking the lake. The clean air allowed you to think clearly again. Theo leaned against the wall, looking up at the night sky, "Sorry about tonight. I... well..."
"You'll sober up and apologize, Nott. There's no need to annoy me again." you replied, still looking at the lake. His gaze fixed on you and he grinned, "That's what I like about you. So serious. Like you are ready to kill… This little walk brought me back to my senses a little bit, don't worry. Accept my apologies."
You still looked at him and nodded, "Okay then, nerd, I forgive you."
Theo leaned over to you, smiling a little brighter, "So you're ready to forgive me? Are you not indifferent to me?"
Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him in surprise, "You seem smart, but the train of thought is not logical... do you want me to feel something for you so much?"
The smile faded from his face and he nodded with a serious expression, "Yes. Why not?"
You shook your head and turned back to the lake. It stood out from everything else, which caught your attention. Like Nott.
The guy touched your cheek, silently forcing you to look at him, which you did. He bent down a little more and said, "Even though I'm drunk, but when I talk about love, nothing affects the words. I want you to feel something for me. Because I am. I... just, hm..." This time, he let go of his gaze. Theo stared at the floor, trying to find the right words.
You stared at him dumbfounded, trying to digest the words he said. Then you swallowed and replied uncertainly, "Well, I... feel... something." He looked up and stared at you hopefully, "Yes? You're not kidding? Fuck, I'm drunk, for sure..." The guy ran his hand over his face and looked at you through his fingers, "Are you sure you said that? Are you serious? Not kidding?"
You chuckled softly and shook your head, "Not kidding." Nott immediately pulled you by the waist, eagerly biting into your lips. It was as if he had turned one of his million bedtime fantasies into reality. You were stunned, but you accepted the kiss by hugging his neck.
The moonlight was spying on this moment, illuminating your faces. No, although you needed the kiss so much, it was rather gentle, warming you on this autumn night.
Soon you broke away from each other. Nott leaned back to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know... I don't remember why anymore. But I'm sorry." You nodded, also not knowing what he was apologizing for, "Okay. Anyway, I forgive you, nerd. You know... you have an insanely long tongue. Shut up already." You grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt and pulled him back for a hotter kiss.
You spent the rest of the evening walking around Hogwarts. Silently and contentedly. The wind contrasted with the warmth of his hands, leaving a pleasant feeling, like brownies with ice cream. And you don't need anything more. You will remember this moment for the rest of your life.
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reverieblondie ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Summer Vacation
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering. You and Miguel have to be sneaky.
Summary: College has been stressful and your finally off for summer vacation... But then you receive a surprise visit...
A/N: Ya'll thought I wasn't writing for Miguel anymore... oh how wrong you all are... If this dose well I will make it a mini series! Just let me know! Enjoy!
Word count: 3,242
So much for your plans for a quiet vacation…
It had been perfect in your mind. Your parents were out of town, and their house was so close to the beach that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a nice and relaxing summer vacation all to yourself. School had been hectic, and you needed some serious relaxing time lounging out under a shady umbrella, cutting down on your TBR list with a frozen drink at your side and maybe a summer fling on the other.
But now... that’s not going to happen, not with the little surprise visit you received…
As you had settled in last night, you heard the sounds of a slamming car door. Your first thought was your parents made a surprisingly short trip, but that’s when you saw him entering through the front door. 
Your brother? What is his goofy -
But before you can finish the thought, you saw him following in. You haven’t seen him in years, but as soon as you see those familiar eyes, you know exactly who he is. Miguel O’Hara, your older brother’s best friend. The last time you remember seeing Miguel was the summer before he and your brother graduated. Lots of people assumed Miguel was a grumpy jerk from his quiet nature. Still, you always found him funny and kinda charming. You especially loved when he gave your brother a hard time: Miguel was definitely your favorite out of all your brother’s friends.
In contrast, the others ignored you, where Miguel was always friendly and looked after you in his own way. Sure, he wasn’t stopping you in the halls to talk to you your freshman year, but you would catch how he would be subtly watching you, and without fail, every time you were doing homework at your dining room table, Miguel would slide in next to you to whisper what questions you got wrong. Okay, sure, you planned it out to be there when he came over, but could you really blame a girl? Miguel was top of his class, plus it also helped that Miguel was quite cute.   
You ended up developing a bit of a crush on him, but he was off-limits, and that was only a silly little freshman year crush. You are way past that. So, as you sit here lounging on your couch, watching him walk in looking taller, buffer, and undoubtedly cuter, okay, he’s actually sexy as hell now…
As soon as Miguel walked in, his eyes met yours. At first, he was equally surprised to see you, but his shock quickly turned to a smile, like he was actually excited to see you. Though the smile was short-lived, as when your brother turned around to grab his bag from him, Miguel went back to his ever-stoic look. 
After your initial surprise wore off, you told your brother about disrupting your plans. He was quick to assure you that he wasn’t going to ruin them as he walked over and ruffled your hair, “Don’t sweat it, sis. Me and Miguel won’t bother you too much.” 
“Too much?”
He laughs as he saunters into the kitchen, “Well, I am your older brother, and I can’t just not mess with you!” 
The audible groan you give only earns a laugh from your sibling. Older brothers… 
While your ruined vacation plans are flashing before your eyes, a clearing throat catches your attention. Turning around, you see Miguel looking down at you with a bit of a smile back to his full lips, 
“Guessing you’re not too excited to see us…” 
Well, if it had just been Miguel….that's a different story… “Let’s just say I had plans for a stress-relief vacation and can’t exactly do now with an older brother lurking around…” 
Miguel chuckles and quickly looks you up and down for a moment. His eyes go to your brother as he leans down and whispers, “You could… if you know how to be sneaky about it…” 
For a moment, you don’t think this is happening, but… is Miguel flirting? You look at him, confused but very intrigued… you haven’t seen him in forever, and this is how he acts? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it; Miguel always gave you homework advice. Perhaps this is just him doing that, but your horny brain is misinterpreting… But just in case….
You look into his eyes, seeing that once warm brown now, has a tinge of red to them. “How do I know you won’t rat on me to my brother? Get me in trouble?” 
“Let’s just say I can keep a secret… troublemaker.” 
Troublemaker? You could be a troublemaker if he’s going to be the one that’s going to spank-
No, No, No! Off limits! Brother’s best friend, I don’t care if he’s built like a god and has a nose that you would pay good money to grind against. You can’t be the one to stick your neck out. Maybe Miguel is just a flirt now; all talk, but it doesn’t mean it. Off limits!
While your brain can still form some rational thought, you rush off to bed before Miguel can notice the blush rising to your face. As you make it to your door, you think you see Miguel leaning back to look down the hall at you with a smirk. Being a sane person you quickly scramble through your door and slam it shut, you go and flop down in your bed, cursing your brother for having brought with him Miguel. Out of all his friends, he had to get the one who makes your insides scream. 
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Now here you sit, completely forgetting about the book in your hands as you stare at Miguel, looking so damn distracting! You know you shouldn’t be staring at him, but watching him running shirtless with his bulging biceps, massive chest shining in a sheen of sweat, and his flexing abs. Don’t even get started on his ass and legs in his swimsuit. You quickly slam your face in your book; stop sexualizing him… off-limits…off limits! 
Though you never were one to have good self-control. So, peering up from your book, you look at him. Sweat has never looked so good. 
Miguel just looked so effortless in his movements, and from the looks of the others staring, you’re not the only one to think this. Something in your chest tightens with that thought, the thought of him swarmed by admirers. For as long as you have known him, you have seen how people trip over themselves to fawn over him, but he always remained single from what you knew… you are sure he has had girlfriends before, but every time he was around you… he didn’t bring one up, he always was single, or at least appearing to be.
Then lost in your staring, his eyes meet yours.
You want to blame the sudden rush of heat to your face on the summer heat, but you know it’s from him… that same auburn gaze that always makes your stomach flutter and your insides ache. 
Miguel watches you as he pushes back his sweat-drenched hair before he lets a smile form on his full lips and gives you a slight wave. You work up the nerve to wave back, then quickly hide behind your book again. You’re stuck rereading the same line over and over, trying to hold onto the words, but that smile and those eyes…
Perhaps another peek won’t hurt…
Going for it, you take another look and see your brother, Miguel, and two pretty girls. The girls are all perky and smiles as they chat, something your brother is eating up, while Miguel has returned to being stoic—his ever-trustworthy defense mechanism. 
Looking away, you’re going through a swell of emotions. Well, more like one bitter emotion…
Jealousy…
You have as prided yourself on being a supportive girl; when you see a girl shooting her shot, you always wish silent good luck for them, but right now, seeing them talking to Miguel… It’s making you feel bitter. In no way is Miguel yours, hell he’s off limits for what you’re concerned, but watching this… hurts. This is ridiculous. Jealousy? Really? With a sigh you try to just forget it, though your skin is feeling hot, and you’re fighting the urge to stare.
To calm yourself, you place your book to the side and strip off your cover-up, the material that was once comfortable now irritating. You hadn’t planned on swimming or being out of your cover-up, so of course you make this the day you wear your smallest bikini. It’s funny how things always turn out like that. Stripping off the material, you instantly feel some relief. However, you have that distinct feeling of someone looking at you, watching you. 
With a glance, you see Miguel looking over everyone’s heads to make eye contact with you again…
Getting back to your book and swallowing down your jealousy, you keep your eyes on your book to keep yourself out of trouble. Finally, after a bit, when you're just getting lost in the text, there’s a nudge on your leg. 
“Uhhggg, please tell me you didn’t come here just to sit around.” Narrowing your eyes at the complaining source, you see your brother nagging you. 
You look down at your book, “You enjoy your time your way; I will enjoy mine my way.” 
Your brother rolls his eyes before grabbing his water bottle, “Goes to the beach and doesn’t swim or play soccer with her big bro. Are you depressed or something?” 
More like irritated… and frustrated… 
Before you can give your rebuttal, Miguel silences Your brother by bouncing the soccer ball on his head, “Stop messing with her.” 
Your brother, as dramatic as ever, holds his head and whines, “Ouch! When did you get so overprotective?” 
Miguel looks surprised and almost guilty for a moment before the mask comes back. “I’m not overprotective; just… let the kid relax like she wants.” 
KID?!
As soon as the words leave his lips, they are ringing in your ears. A kid? He’s older than you, sure, but calling you kid? What the hell? Is that how he sees you? You don’t know what’s the worst label: best friends little sister, or kid? 
Your brother pats your head, “Aw, got to be nice to the baby!” 
The words sting deeper. It’s not like you’re not used to your brother’s teasing; that’s actually how you two play with each other and show affection, but today…
You quickly stand, swatting his hand away. Your brother pauses and looks at you, confused. “Wow, what’s your damage?”
“I’m not in the mood…” You bite back, grab your bag, and walk off. 
“Where are you going?!” 
“None of your business!” 
You’re not even sure where you are going, but with your chest burning with embarrassment and annoyance, you just don’t want to be somewhere you’re labeled as a kid. 
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You ended up at the concession stand to get some ice cream. Okay, not precisely screaming, mature lady. But your irritation at the situation is reaching a peak, and you need a nice cold comfort snack to cool you down.  
A kid… he sees you as a kid, you’re a woman in college, and he calls you a kid… and here you thought he was staring at you. Fooling yourself to think he’s interested. Looking down at yourself, you feel worse, wearing this bikini revealing your body secretly hoping to grab his attention. Ugh! Maybe you should go home, hide in your room till they leave… And why is this line moving so sl-
Suddenly, the feeling of a giant hand grabbing you close startles you. You’re pulled into what feels like a brick wall. Looking up at the sudden grabber, you see that familiar strong jaw and that dark wavy hair, but not his gaze. No, Miguel is looking off at a nearby table at a group of guys who are visibly avoiding eye contact and sweating bullets. 
You look between them for a few more minutes before you ask the million-dollar question, “What are you doing?” 
Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off the group, “Just... keeping an eye on you…”
This only seems to piss you off more; now he’s watching over you like you can’t handle yourself.
You push yourself out of Miguel’s hold, getting his attention to your huffy face, “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t need a babysitter!” You bite back. 
Miguel furrows his eyebrows at you, “I didn’t say you did!” he says, equally frustrated.
“Then stop treating me like I’m some kid!”
Miguel looks at you, confused, before he remembers what he said. “Look… I didn’t mean it like that.”
Before Miguel can finish, he’s being pushed past, you’re doing your best to show how thoroughly pissed off you are. You ignore him the best you can as he walks after you. Trying to ignore how his voice makes your skin tingle as he says your name. But right now, you can’t focus on that. You’re just wanting to slip away and hide! What you were not expecting as you slipped into one of the colorfully painted private changing sheds was for Miguel to follow behind you.
Miguel locks the door behind himself, and you groan. “I was trying to get away from you.”
“Will you at least listen to what I have to say? And stop acting like a brat?”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now I’m a brat!”
Miguel continues to get irritated with you, and you’re not listening, so he has to listen to your ranting. You go one about how you're not a kid, how they ruined your summer vacation, and what was the deal at the concession stand.
Miguels finally had enough. If you won’t listen to you he will just have to take the risk and show you.
So, during your rant, you feel two large hands gently grabbing your face. The gentleness of the touch sends currents of desire through your body. His eyes are steady on yours as he watches you lose your words, and your anger die down. Slowly, his thumb moves from your jaw to trace over your lips softly.
“Can you pause for a minute so I can kiss you?” 
You didn’t have to say yes; all you had to do is close your eyes and stand on your tiptoes to let him know you want it as badly as he does—to kiss him.
Miguel touches his lips to yours; their soft fullness blurs your thoughts. All that tingling turns into a back-arching static as Miguel guides you through the kiss. The intensity of the kiss grows with every second, with every careful caress, and as Miguel finally presses his warmth against you, you’re fully lost in him—lost in each other.
The feel of Miguel’s hands dropping to your hips makes your lips part with a gasp, allowing Miguel to slip in his tongue. The taste of him was completely intoxicating, making your thighs tighten and your pussy get wetter with every pass of his experienced tongue.
 Before he can completely lose himself in your kiss, he quickly turns you around so his chest is pressed against your back, and his hard cock is against your ass.
Miguel brings his lips to the shell of your ear, his warm breath softly panting over your skin, making you lean into him. Reaching behind you, you grab a hold of his dark hair between your fingers.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you again.” he whispers in your ear.
Miguel slowly moves his large hand to the hem of your bottoms, his fingers teasing the material,
“Then... I’m forced to look at you in this tiny thing, which is driving me even more crazy.”
You can hardly think coherently as you let out a trembling whine, “Crazy…”
Miguel lets out a low purring hum as he slips his finger under the material, his fingertip softly teasing your slick folds. Tempting you to beg. How badly you want to beg... but the feeling of his rough fingers on your soft flesh as your hips slightly rolling against him. It’s all the begging Miguel needs (or that he can handle...) before he finds your slit and starts to tease your opening.
You can’t help but squirm, sick of the teasing and needing to feel him. With a shuddering pled, Miguel finally gives in to his lust, and your lust, and he sips in his finger. The stretch makes you rise to your toes, and your breath gives, the feeling of that curling pressure making you want more. Miguel presses his lips to your neck, his erection growing harder the deeper his digit goes. Miguel can’t help but grind his clothed cock against your ass as he whispers sweet words into your skin. Then right as your pussy is adjusting to his thick finger, he adds another, pushing in deep, all the way down to his rough knuckles. Your sticky arousal dripped down his thick fingers and pooled into his palm.
A sheen of sweat forms on your skin that Miguel eagerly licks up from your neck. Your core is starting to burn, and right as you think you can’t take anymore, his other hand comes down and starts rubbing your clit. Your legs tremble, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling. Miguel’s breath matches your own as you start to approach that eye-crossing pleasure…
You feel yourself clenching on him, your whole body quivering. This feels like a dream: Miguel, the man you have been silently pining for, is touching you... kissing you... something he has equally wanted as much as you. The girl who was always so close... but off limits... Though now, you both couldn’t take it anymore how you needed each other…
Right as your bottoms are dropping to the floor and a moan is breaking from your throat, Miguel’s lips are on your rapid plus... then a ringing...
You both pause, gazing at each other, then at your bag thrown in the corner during the start of your rant. The ringing continues. You both knew who it was, but you didn’t want to leave this moment. At this moment, you two didn’t have to hide your wants, but if you didn’t answer, your brother would come looking.
Begrudgingly, you two part, with an irritated groan from the both of you. Bottoms back on your reaching for your bag, but your wrist is caught by Miguel before you can pick it up. Looking up at him confused, you see that classic stoic look,
“Wha-”
“I don’t want this to stop here.”
You’re completely dumbfounded. Here he is, the man you want saying the thing you want. “What if...” You don’t finish the sentence or want to think of any possible consequences.
Your Phone is still ringing, but you’re too entranced by him. Miguel leans his forehead against yours, “Be sneaky with me, trouble...”
Your summer plans might not be completely ruined after all…
“Think about it... and get back to me... Miguel gives you a chaste kiss, and before you know it, your bag is in your hands, and he exits the changing room. 
In your Miguel daze, you answer your Phone, reassuring your brother that you’re no longer mad and that you and Miguel are on your way back.
604 notes ¡ View notes
atxxzist ¡ 5 months ago
Text
spring in our hearts | c.s
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summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad
pairing: choi san x f!reader
genre: angst, slice of life, slowburn, romance, fluff?
word count: 21.4k
pink.
everything outside is turning pink. the petals fallen from the cherry blossom trees sweeping the streets as the wind carries it away with the cold chill, making the arrival of spring feel so much more real.
pink has always reminded you of love though your best friend tells you to not think about it often. he believes you're horrible at it and has a shallow view on it.
you wouldn't say you're horrible if you don't exactly have the experience for it, your only romantic relationship ever was freshman year of college with a boy from english who found you cute but broke it off after only 3 months because he thought you weren't interested.
yeosang still brings it up occasionally because only texting a boy when they texted you and telling them you could only hang out once a week isn't the way to show someone you do like them.
you thought it was quite the statement coming from yeosang because he wasn't much of a prize either before his current relationship that finally managed to last longer than 6 months.
but he think he has finally found the one. he's sure of it. and maybe he's right about you being horrible to some extent because you wouldn't understand or know the feeling of when someone is just right.
you still don't get how your uncle was willing to move halfway across the country for the 'love of his life', leaving everything he knew behind in hope of making it work, or how your mother married your father against her parents wishes although you know him to be a great man.
even the compromises both yeosang and grace have to make can be hard to wrap your head around, but yeosang always says every time that once you meet that person, you will understand.
"this seat taken?"
your thoughts are broken and your neck snaps away from the window and its petal shower to the voice beside that takes your breath away momentarily because though he's just standing there in his morning hair, grey hoodie, and sweatpants, he looks absolutely out of place in this small cafe.
you shake your head, a knot forming in your throat the longer you stare at this stranger.
"i'll take it, if that's okay with you."
"go ahead," you assure, no idea why you're so captivated by this stranger you've known for less than a minute, eyes unable to leave as he removes his backpack to place in the seat next to him and finally takes the seat across from you.
you clear your throat, scanning the surrounding and just noticing how packed it has gotten within the few minutes you were out before looking back down to the half finished sketch on the table.
"you go there?"
the question pulls your head back up, meeting eyes once again with this stranger who has now comfortably seated himself, confused as to what he's talking about until he points with his chin to the sweater you're wearing that has your school logo plastered all over it.
you let another second of silence slip through before answering in your most friendliest tone because you don't usually get people trying to start conversations often, or at all.
"oh, yes," you say. "it was a shirt my friend didn't want."
you regret the words as soon as they leave, feeling like you wanna smack ur head onto the table because you don't know why you needed him to know that.
you really are not big on school spirits or whatever, but yeosang had offered it to you after he bought a size too small.
and this stranger is probably able to sense your nervousness just now that he attempts to giggle it off, dimples emerging from his cheeks all of a sudden that you can't keep your eyes off of.
you've seen a fair share of good looking guys in your lifetime, but this dude might just be at the very top and you're thinking the only obvious reason he'd even wanna sit with you is because all the other seats were taken.
"well that's nice of them," he says with a warm smile. "it's a well designed shirt."
you nod slowly at that.
"i guess so."
"i just transferred the beginning of this year so i just thought it was cool to run into someone alike."
"oh?" your pitch piques with a unique kind of interest. "y-you also go there?"
"yes. junior, going onto senior next semester. you?"
"same..." you answer, fighting the tiniest smile that wants to break out because what were the chances the two of you are the exact same age, and it's not like you plan on seeing him after this, but to hear how big the possibilites are is a little crazy.
he chuckles, one hand running over his disheveled hair as you're sure the same thing is also going through his mind.
"and then what?" yeosang asks, after you finish the retelling of your encounter with the incredibly cute and kind boy from the cafe.
"what?" you repeat, one eyebrow raised.
"what happened after?" he states, as if asking the obvious while spinning around in the computer chair that belongs to his girlfriend.
"i had to go to class," you answer, unfazed and oblivious much to yeosang's frustration which is why he wanna facepalm right then and there.
"you didn't even ask for his number?"
you shake your head. "no."
"i bet you don't even know his name," he says only sarcastically but he would be right.
"i don't."
you watch in bafflement as yeosang continues to sigh and complain before grace comes bursting through the door with the two boxes of pizza.
"you won't believe what your girl just told me," yeosang opens his big mouth and tells on you the second he can, prompting grace to hum in curiosity because she's just as equally nosy.
"what happened?" she says, placing the boxes on the stand next to the door.
"little miss over here had a cute boy actually talk to her and didn't even ask for his number nor his name," yeosang spews, accusation in his tone like you just committed a crime. "and worst of all, she lost the pen i got her for christmas."
grace gasps in response and plops down next to you as her weight makes the bed sink.
you roll your eyes, dismissing the last comment but going on to defend your name, "okay. you're being dramatic. it's not like i want him to be my boyfriend. i just happened to meet someone pleasant and i'm okay with the idea that nothing more will come from it."
your best friend shakes his head in disapproval and mutters, "you anti-romantic."
"and where did you meet this boy again?" grace asks.
"the cafe i usually go to."
"maybe you'll run into him again." she shrugs.
"maybe," you utter lowly. "but it's ok. like i said, i just thought it was a nice encounter and had to tell yeosang about it but if i knew he was gonna make a big ass deal, i would've just told you."
"excuse you," yeosang chimes in, "i was just looking out for you. you need to get yourself a boyfriend or at least a friend of your own so you won't be cockblocking all the time."
"first of all, i did get myself a friend," you say, your voice a type of snarky, "but you had to go and make her your girlfriend."
yeosang scoffs, the topic making rounds once again and proceeds to stop spinning himself to churn out another comment to annoy you.
"well maybe she became your friend because she was always meant to be my girlfriend."
you met grace as soon as you stepped foot onto campus given she was your literal roommate, and it only took a couple days to become comfortable with each other because the girl was so friendly and welcoming unlike anyone you've ever met before.
it wasn't until a week later that you considered the two of you actual friends, taking in the fact she was someone you saw yourself sticking by even in the far future.
but it only took another month for yeosang to see what you saw in her and snatched her away, recalling how fast their relationship went from friendly to romantic, you were so annoyed with yeosang because if anything went awry, it would've costed you the first friend you've made besides him.
but here's to them going on 2 years and a half so you really hope yeosang doesn't fuck it up because you think with his track records, you're in the right to have some doubts.
ignoring his response, you go on, "and second of all, your bitch ass invited me so how am i cockblocking?"
grace lets out half a chuckle and stands up to head for the boxes earlier, turning to the both of you.
"you both are hangry. pizza?" she offers.
yeosang takes a slice while you shake your head, telling her you're not hungry right now.
"my point is," yeosang continues, "it was the perfect chance and you completely missed it, but it's whatever now. i summoned you today because i've only seen your hermit ass like three times ever since the start of the term."
"well, yes. i wanted to focus on my studies."
"you need to learn how to relax once in a while," he says, with actual sympathy this time, "which is why i think you're gonna love what i have to say next."
but it just mellows out into an almost sarcastic-like tone, as if he knows you're gonna hate the idea but he's still persistent to go through with it.
"what?" you say, unamused.
he adjusts himself in the chair and puts the barely bitten pizza on standby as grace stares in anticipation because you're sure she already knows exactly what he's gonna say.
"so like, remember yunho?" he squeaks.
it takes a raised brow and maybe two seconds, but you manage to remember, blurting, "jeong yunho?"
"yes!" he nods way too excitedly.
all you really know about jeong yunho was that you've met him probably only twice and had less than a conversation when you did, though not failing to recall how soft-spoken and kind he also was.
"it's his birthday... well, technically his birthday already passed, but he's gonna be holding a late party to celebrate it and i might've maybe told him you're gonna come," yeosang announces, ending the ment with a stupid goofy smile like that's gonna lessen the impact.
"what the fuck, yeosang?"
you scowl, and grace jumps in, "i told him not to but he didn't wanna listen."
"it's a great opportunity!" he cowers back, high-pitched and all as he tries standing his ground.
"you know how much i hate parties!" you yell back just as loud.
"you've been to one!"
"one too much!"
"oh come on, y/n!" he slumps back in the chair staring at you like a disappointed parent. "you only have a year left after this semester. do you really not even wanna have some fun?"
"no. i really don't," you deadpan, much to an eyeroll and sigh from him while grace just sits by idly watching.
"it's not gonna be one of those crazy weird frat parties, i promise. just a house party with close friends, yunho said. plus, there's gonna be plenty of cute guys there."
"good for you. maybe you can find someone there," you say unseriously much to a giggle from grace but to an unamused yeosang because he seriously mean it.
he wants you out of your comfort zone at least just once and go and talk to people you might potentially like, having stayed in your own bubble for so long.
"please?"
the desperation makes you fight the urge to give in but you're losing, only huffing in annoyance.
"what happened to 'you're horrible at this romantic shit'?" you cite him word for word, throwing it back in his face.
"that's cause you really are. plus, you were being annoying at the time. but still doesn't mean i don't want you to try."
you think you're gonna regret. you know you're gonna regret it, but a part of you want to do it just for your best friend so you cave.
"i'll go. but if someone pukes on me again, i'm making you clean that shit with your own mouth."
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the party starts at 7 p.m. sharp but yeosang's late birthday gift run leaves you guys almost an hour late, lightly knocking on yunho's door at 7:54 p.m. expecting for the house to be flooded with even more people you don't know but you're surprise to see a couple familiar faces in the background when the door comes apart.
"hey!" the tall birthday boy greets all of you, a lady by her side and arm wrapped around his who you can only assume to be his girlfriend sends a friendly smile the same time.
"come in, come in," he ushers, the three of you stepping inside to the much humble and comforting interior, nothing alike a stereotypical party setting and it's already managed to be the better party you've attended.
it's homey, a bit classy, and you should've expected it because the house is also in a relatively safe part of the neighborhood.
"you guys made it!" yunho welcomes again, his voice loud and excited, eyes traveling between your friends before it eventually stops on you.
"y/n, right?" he says, your name almost foreign sounding coming from him.
you nod in response and the taller boy smiles in relief, not typical of him to forget names but also not wanting to mess up and offend you.
"glad you could make it. i was afraid you couldn't because yeosang went on and on about how much parties scares you."
you narrow your eyes at your best friend and his habit of oversharing before a loose chuckle escapes.
"did he now?"
"he did," yunho says, also a small giggle out of him as if trying to ease the mood and make you comfortable. "but don't worry about it. it's not gonna be crazy, i'm sure of that."
"i appreciate it," you thank him, touched by the kind gesture of assurance although the man barely knows you. "i'll try to enjoy myself."
again, you've only seen yunho on two occasions before this and you can barely even recall the second one, only seeing him in passing along with others currently at the party when you'd go seek out yeosang inbetween classes.
yeosang smirks from beside you, happy and impressed from how you're already easing yourself into the situation, clearing his throat and deciding it's his turn.
"this is for you, birthday boy," yeosang says, presenting the gift in his hand proudly as if he didn't panic just almost 2 hours ago when you brought up if he was gonna get yunho something.
"appreciate it, man. i'm gonna put it with all the other gifts to open later."
he takes it into his hold, attention shortly pulled away by another knock at the door.
"i'm gonna get that. you guys make yourself at home," yunho says, excusing himself with his lady still at armrest.
"see, that wasn't so bad," yeosang takes the first chance he gets as soon as yunho's out of earshot, nudging you by the shoulder much to an eyeroll in return.
"don't speak so fast, we haven't even made it past 10 minutes."
"it's gonna be awesome," he states, convinced of his own words. "you, grace, and all the other girlies can hang out or something while i'm gonna go chat it up with the boys."
a visible annoyance paints grace's expression as she huffs, "if that's the case, i'm coming with. you seem to get stupider with every party."
a couple minutes later and a banter between the lovebirds about how reckless yeosang gets when he's drunk, you wind up in the downstairs bathroom of yunho's house, regretting that you didn't take grace's advice of peeing before coming.
at least the bathroom's nice but you don't wanna have to go out of your way and look for your friends in midst of all staring eyes. you already had enough of those making your way here.
the two had said they wouldn't leave you and it's best you guys stick together, but when you finally spot yeosang, he's already chatting it up with someone new when he was talking to wooyoung before--someone you also don't know well except the fact he's loud and extroverted the last time you met him.
grace is nowhere to be found and you're thinking whether you should just go look for her or insert yourself into the conversation yeosang and this stranger who's only visible from the back of his head, is having.
you don't get to make a choice because yeosang is quick to make it for you, sneaking over this person's shoulder and locking eyes with yours, one hand in the air motioning you to come as if you're his pet while his other is now occupied with a red cup.
you can hear him spewing from a distant as you make your way there, telling the person before him, "oh right, san, this is--"
"--strawberry peach?" the voice not belonging to yeosang says, so strange but familiar and recent at the same time, it stops you dead in track once you meet his eyes.
"strawberry peach lemonade?"
you pick your head up at what sounds like a question, following his gaze to your drink on the table, answering a mere, "yes."
"you came to a cafe to get lemonade?" he tease, delivery a type of amused that would've offended you if not for the smile on his lips.
"what's wrong with that?"
he snickers lowly and shakes his head before going back to his book and muttering, "nothing."
"oh?" yeosang is as confused as the both of you. "you two know each other?" because very rarely do you ever know anyone before he does.
"we met the other day," san tells your friend, your lips tight and body too in shock to answer properly. "at a cafe. she got the strawberry peach lemonade."
"oh. oh!" yeosang's volume turns an octave, a realization hitting him and making the corners of his lips go up because this is the guy you were going on about who was so cute and left such an impression you had to tell him when he knows you to not even look twice a guy's direction.
"thank god," you friend says. "i was afraid she went by some alias on the internet i wasn't aware of."
the comment makes both you and san freeze in place before a chuckle comes hurling out of him though he was fighting to bite it back.
you don't blame him because why would you when your best friend just implied he thought it was your possible camgirl name.
"you're fucking stupid," you hiss, a mix between laughing it off and feeling extremely embarrassed in front of the sole person you didn't think you'd ever meet again and this is how you're officially reintroduced.
"well," yeosang exhales, quick to brush off the remark because he has other things in mind, "i'm gonna go look for grace."
you knew it was coming and that he was gonna try to get the two of you alone but you didn't think it'd come this fast, your palms already starting to sweat and your feet feels like it's gonna make a run for it.
"i'll catch you guys later. you two have fun," yeosang bids goodbye as san returns one while you're just standing and thinking of all the ways to get back at him if this doesn't go well.
"a bit crazy, isn't it?"
that soft, melodic tone pulls you away from yeosang's walking figure and to his eyes that could almost melt you on the spot, that strange sensation settling in the pit of your stomach from his lingering gaze.
"definitely a bit crazy," you manage to say after composing yourself, because you do wanna talk to him and not scare him away, but you're feeling a lot more self-conscious than usual.
but whereas you cave easily under stressful situations, san treads through them with confidence, breaking the ice by asking a question.
"that guy, yeosang, you guys together?"
and if you were in the middle of drinking something, you would've spat it right out at such question.
"definitely not," you deny passionately, though it wouldn't be the first; you and yeosang getting the accusation from time to time because you two happen to be of opposite sex and are actually just friends.
"i'd rather lose an arm before picking to settle with him," you add.
you love your best friend, you do. he's always there for you when needed and has been with you through everything, but he's also messy, lazy, and probably the most disgusting person you know.
grace is a soldier for putting up with it for almost three years now and you don't know how she does it.
san chuckles at the response and the pure offense on your face.
"why not? sounds like an overall decent dude."
"i've known him since middle school. he's more a friend than anything and sometimes like a brother. plus, he has a girlfriend, grace."
"ah," san coos, "so you're the friend. he did say he came with his girlfriend and a friend but he thought his friend was trying to hide."
you shouldn't have expected any better from yeosang but you still wanna kick when you do see him, opting to calmly explain yourself, "was just taking a while in the restroom, that's all."
though you're not sure if it was necessary to address that, your cheeks burning a light pink after that san takes notice to.
he giggles it off and you're glad it made him smile at least.
"if i knew i was gonna meet you here, i'd bring your pen, but i don't think neither of us were expecting such coincidence."
your eyes swell a kind of surprise, almost stuttering when you finally speak, "you got my pen?"
you had quickly packed all your things, afraid you were gonna be late for the next class and you were so sure you got everything. it wasn't until you got back to the dorms that you noticed the stylo sketch pen yeosang got you for christmas was missing.
it didn't take long for it to be considered lost forever because there wasn't much hope of finding it even if you went back, but you didn't think it'd wind up in the hands of the boy you met that day.
"yeah, sorry if you came back looking for it. i had noticed you left it and thought it was rude if i didn't do anything. maybe that's why fate sent me here today," he says, snickering at the last comment, though at this point blaming it on fate doesn't seem so crazy.
"thank you," you tell him quietly, moved by the consideration but volume falling behind the progressing loud music though he can still make out your lips.
"no problem." he smiles.
and you don't know how it's possible but he looks even better than last time, the black attire and slicked back hair a contrast to the other day but when you speak to him, it all still feels the same... the slightly mischievous but easygoing personality turning away your initial worries and nervousness until you can't even remember why you had them.
the only thing left to weigh heavy is his usage of 'fate', the impression that you two meeting today was because of destiny and something already set in stone, but you might be overthinking.
"do you wanna go outside?" he asks, practically shouting at this point because the music has completely drowned out his voice.
he can tell you didn't hear him by how you confusingly squint your brows and unintentionally lean closer, to which he returns, whispering into your ear that shouldn't have sparked whatever it did.
you pull away to nod hesitantly and follow him out the backdoor, your throat clogged and body almost frozen if you weren't walking, glad he isn't looking because never in your life has a man smell that good before.
it's probably not the best idea to be away from your friends with someone you barely know, but you also don't have any reasons not to trust san... for now.
the spring air hugs your skin and you shiver slightly, only a thin cardigan to protect from the cold that makes san second guess coming out here.
"if it's too cold, we can go back inside. i just thought maybe you'd prefer somewhere where we could actually hear each other."
you shake your head but throw in a small smile to show you appreciate the consideration.
"it's okay. it is definitely way too loud inside there."
"yeah," he agrees, "and whoever's phone is connected to the bluetooth has a horrible taste in music." the now muffled audio a rock song you cannot make out the lyrics to even back at the house.
you laugh at the remark, the both of you staring into nothingness but yunho's backyard fences, yet it feels nice. safe. comfortable.
"i bet it's yeosang. he puts on the shittiest songs," you talk bad behind your friend's back, getting a giggle from san that makes it worth it.
"by the way, what did yeosang say your name was again?" he asks, turning to you with his full attention after realizing this whole time he doesn't even know your name.
"y/n," you tell him, locking eyes and ignoring the sensation in your stomach again from being this close and alone to someone who looks like that.
"y/n." you listen to him repeat your name under his breath. "you definitely look like a y/n."
the comment makes the corners of your lips turn, telling him he sounds so silly.
"it's san, right?" it's your turn to ask, sure you got it correct because yeosang's voice is loud, annoying, and hard to miss.
"yes," he confirms. "san choi, or choi san."
"choi san," you mumble, "it definitely has a beat to it."
and you're both laughing together the next, it doesn't feel real how easy being with him is. how, you were so hesitant about showing up and not being able to talk to anybody and now you're actually enjoying yourself, the state of your friends completely forgotten.
you don't usually wanna know many people but you wanna know more about san, every expressions he makes and any words he says paid attention and listened to carefully, you hope you won't scare him off just yet.
the conversation taking place after feels never-ending from him telling you about the transfer process to sharing majors and learning he specializes in math, you don't even realize you've both been standing in the cold for a while until a voice calls out to you.
"y/n!"
you look over your shoulder to find grace standing there, only half her body out the door and moving her eyes from you to san, the slight surprise when she sees you're with someone.
"there you are," she says. "i thought you had left without telling us."
you're now fully facing her with san following, watching from the side as you two carry on.
"what happened?" you ask.
she sighs before telling you it's yeosang, not to anyone's surprise.
"he's stupid drunk already and picking fights," she adds, getting second embarrassment again just thinking about how mad her boyfriend had got when he found out wooyoung had gotten yunho the same gift.
it wasn't anyone's fault; yeosang just loses half his braincells when he's under the influence.
you shake your head unamused and swipe san a glare, apologizing and telling him you have to go.
"wait," san stops you before you could completely leave him standing alone in the cold. "your pen. can i still give it back to you?"
you're standing there almost starstrucked-like and nodding your head, stuttering at the fact he wants to see you again.
"y-yes."
"perfect." he smiles. "how about the cafe again? we're both familiar with the place."
"that'll work," you say. "this monday?"
"this monday."
"cool. i'll see you then, san."
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"what? no way!" grace yells, after you finish telling her about san and how crazy the coincidence is.
"yeah... i didn't really think i'd see him again," you say softly while settling down on the edge of your bed with grace across in hers, your heart doing a turn just thinking about the exchange between you and san again.
"you're blushing," grace snaps you out, meeting her gaze and batting your lashes.
"what? i'm not," you deny, adjusting yourself in the seat like that's gonna make her less suspicious.
"no. you are." she giggles. "you like him."
the bold statement makes your eyes go wide, shaking your head and denying the accusation on the spot because you can't possibly like someone you just met.
"i don't even know the guy," you tell her, trying to convince her as much as you are to yourself, hoping she won't catch how tense you're sounding at just the mere topic of this guy.
"so?" she shrugs, leaning back with her hands to the sheet. "you can't know a person within one night. finding out about the person is all part of the journey to eventually, a relationship."
you just learned the guy's name and now she's already bringing up the possibility of a relationship.
"believe me, y/n." she sits back up, intensely locking eyes with you and voice stern as if schooling a child. "the almost 3 years i've known you, i've never seen you look at anyone like that."
"you're being dramatic," you say, but the girl is still persistent, repeating herself and assuring you san is special.
"you're meeting him monday, right?"
"yes." you nod, a part of you still nervous but also excited to be seeing him again.
"tell me how it goes!"
when monday rolls around, you don't wanna think grace is right, but from how your heart is pitter pattering in your chest and you even glanced an extra time at the mirror before coming, you're afraid she just might be.
you don't have class till noon, and though he didn't specify the time, you just assumed it was around the same as last time, making yourself comfortable and occupied by scrolling through your social feeds.
the opening of the cafe door is missed and you don't fully comprehend he's here until a small 'hi' pulls you from the screen, looking up as he smiles down at you and you're reminded of why it's so hard to look away from this man.
"hey," you greet as calm as your nerves allows you to.
he takes the seat across and settles his backpack the same as he did before, the smile on him never having left his face the entire time.
"no drinks or what?" he says, the slightly teasing tone lightening up the atmosphere.
"i wanted to wait till you get here," you tell him. "i thought it would be rude if i ordered ahead of time."
he chuckles and shakes his head.
"no worries. i would've understand, but i appreciate the consideration." there's a split second of silence before he continues, "tell me what you want, i can go order."
you hum and think as if you don't get the same thing everytime; san jumping in when you can't seem to make a choice.
"strawberry peach, right?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.
"strawberry peach," you confirm, reaching for your bag to give him the change. "here's--"
but he kindly interrupts you, waving it off and assuring he got it
"are you sure?" you ask, a kind of worry in your voice because you feel slightly bad he has to pay for your $3 drink.
"of course. i'll be back."
and he goes off with a smile; you catching the dimple poking out of his cheek before he left and you think it just might be your favorite thing about him... not that you're keeping track of others.
you thank him quietly when he returns, mind suddenly empty when it comes to topic although you two were just talking a few days ago like you were never gonna run out of things to talk about--then you remember.
"right... so my pen," you bring up, hoping it's not too straightforward but you really wanted to say something.
his face lights up, the realization hitting him as well.
"oh, right right. give me a sec," he says, pulling his backpack and digging through it before pulling out the sketch pen yeosang got you almost two christmas ago. "your pen."
he hands it to you and you accept it with the sincerest 'thank you' you could let out, playing with it in your hand because you did think the old thing was lost for good.
"don't forget it this time," he teases; your head picking up to let out a snicker.
"i won't."
he nods, staring at the pen you've still yet to put away and thinking back to what you were doing the last time you were here.
"you're an artist?" he asks, the question casting your eyes with a twinge of shyness at such wording.
you've never considered yourself an artist. if you did, you think it'd be an insult to actual artists.
"i draw and major in arts but i'm not an artist," you tell him with a shake of your head and a dry snicker this time.
"then you're an artist," he says, shrugging with the most nonchalant expression painting him.
you chuckle, continuing to deny such bold claim.
"just because someone cooks that also doesn't make them a chef."
"that's fair," he agrees, thinking the logic makes total sense. "but i'm sure your arts are amazing."
here's to sitting with probably the cutest guy you've ever met, and he's telling you you're amazing at the one thing you're passionate about and you're not sure how to feel about that.
"you haven't even seen my work," you say, the mischievous tone in this back and forth feeling more like a banter at this point.
"no. but i saw a glimpse," he defends, really set on the fact he thinks you are totally good at what you do even if you are correct about him not having seen the whole thing, "and i'm sure the actual work is amazing."
you reframe from rolling your eyes and bite at your lips instead so the smile doesn't slip, moving the discussion along because you're more interested about him than your unsatisfactory artist journey.
"so what do you do with you know... math?" you ask, trying to not sound ignorant on the topic but that's exactly how it came off.
thankfully, he finds it cute and laughs it off.
"i went into it because the people around me said i was good at it," he says, a bit unfazed and dull. "that's pretty much it, i guess." and ending it with a smile when he catches your gaze again.
"but do you enjoy it?"
there's a quick silence and san tilts his head slightly, quirking his lips to the side before answering.
"it's not bad. if anything, it's been easy, so i'm glad for that at least."
you nod, smiling in return.
"that's good. only one more year and we'll be done."
"yeah," he says, letting out a loose chuckle after. "i can't wait. there's something i want to do after, but for now, we'll have to see what happens."
and you wanna ask him more about it; what is it that he wants to do after and just more about him in general, but you have taken notice of the clock sitting behind him and the fact you only have 20 minutes to get to campus.
you kindly thank him again for returning the pen as well as the drink, and in the midst of all turmoil and conflicted feelings because you don't know how to ask if you're gonna see him again, he's the one who fortunately suggests you guys exchange numbers.
you leave the shop with one last wave to him and his handsome smile ingrained in your head for the rest of the day.
but you're still not sure you like him just yet. not until summer.
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after almost six hours, a few rest stops, and long stretches of desert roads, the heat of the much southern california is felt along with the sight of palm trees spread out everywhere.
"we've arrived, ladies," yeosang announces, finally parked into the hotel's parking lot after missing at least two turns before he found the place.
as soon as you step out, the summer air is annoying and you wish you hadn't wore long sleeves. but you like summer because it always marked the end of a semester and then the beginning of a new one--the fact you're so close to almost graduating.
you were planning to not do anything all summer, just eager for some rest and break away from the stress that came with school and your part-time job, but yeosang was quick to scrap all plans and make some of his own.
said his friends were gonna go down south and out of town for a whole week and invited him, and he wanted you and grace to come along since it would be the last summer break you all would share before graduating.
you told him you would come as long as he would be driving and he didn't have any problems. he thinks you and grace are terrible drivers though you would say otherwise.
"and who are these friends of yours again?" you ask, taking your luggage out of the trunk and staring up into the hotel you guys would be staying at, amazed at the amount of floors the building holds.
"you know," yeosang replies, shutting the trunk after he's made sure nothing's left behind, "yunho, wooyoung, and some others at the party."
you hum at the vagueness of the answer, following both your friends to the hotel's lobby that has a mix of modernness but also slight tropical and beach vibes, the color scheme a combination of white, woodsy brown, and green.
after being given your room keys, you don't wanna do anything but lay down and rest for a bit though yeosang should be more tired than you, he still has enough energy to roam the rest of the hotel when grace asked.
your room is a single queen bed and has almost the perfect view to beach if not for the huge palm tree that happens to sit in front.
yeosang and grace had initially wanted just one room together to save on cost but you didn't wanna be that person, and especially the third wheel to everything, so you cut your losses.
it's gonna be hefty on your wallet but it's only for a week, and plus, you get your own privacy and space away from the eyes of your friends.
the late preparations and long drive left almost no free time, so instead, the night is spent on the rooftop restaurant of the hotel where grace wanted to eat at, and after finishing your meal, you excuse yourself to go shower and sleep first because you want to wake up early for breakfast.
--
you wind up in the dining room alone at 7:30 in the morning because both your friends moaned and groaned about it being too early.
your breakfast consists of two pancakes, scrambled eggs, a banana, and a cup of coffee; choosing to settle on a table in the far corner.
you watch the many guests go in and out of the dining room, also keeping yourself occupied with your phone while eating hoping to finish fast enough so you'll be able to go back upstairs to do your makeups and pick out an outfit since your friends want to go sightseeing later.
and you were doing pretty good keeping your eyes to the entrance of the dining room, but you must've missed their arrival, because as you go to shove a piece of pancake down your throat, the slight tap on your shoulder makes your head turn.
"san..." you say his name so naturally, it just instinctly rolling off your tongue.
you haven't seen him in a while, but now he's standing in front of you although you're almost 6 hours away from home.
"hey, y/n," he greets, the smile you also haven't seen in a while making all of that strange sensation come back as he takes the seat across from you.
"hey," you say, your shock now morphing into actual joy at the fact he's here. "what are you doing here?"
"wooyoung invited me," he answers, nodding off in a direction that your eyes shoot to, seeing wooyoung, yunho, and a couple others from the party just as yeosang said, huddled around an area of the room you can't believe you missed.
"oh," you mumble, as if all of this should've been expected and it's no surprise san is here too.
"and where are your friends? what are they doing to be leaving you alone like this?" his voice a mix of teasing but also concern, it's hard to tell which one is louder.
but you laugh, telling him your friends stayed up way too late last night and didn't wanna get up this early.
"i see." he nods. "well, good thing i found you." he smiles again, every single time making your heart strangely tight.
you didn't see san much after the cafe meeting, or at all. the both of you busy with either school, work, or other responsibilities, most of the interactions were limited to texting, and even then, it was hardly a daily occurence.
though you guys did exchange instagrams and he poked fun of you because your profile picture was a digital painting you did of yourself and you had 3 posts only--all of them also of art works, he at least complimented you.
said you have an amazing gift and all that even if you're still trying to believe it yourself, you appreciate the kindness.
"yeah," you say. "kind of crazy we were going on the same trip and didn't even know it."
the realization makes the both of you giggle in sync, the conversation and atmosphere so easy flowing, it's hard to believe you haven't talked to him face to face for a few months now.
"but again, we were kind of occupied with our own thing and all that," he tries reasoning. "but i'm glad you're here. it will be fun, you know. wooyoung they're all a little loud but i'm sure you got a friend to match the energy."
you nod, a smile on your lips almost the whole time and your food going cold because san just said he's glad you're here.
"oh for sure. we will fit just right in with yeosang."
it was a night where you and san texted for much longer than usual when he told you how him and wooyoung became friends. the boy younger than him by a few months but so much more extroverted and chaotic in every other way.
nonetheless, he said wooyoung is a great friend to have and he's grateful for the wonderful people he's met through him.
you were mostly focus on the initial surprise and shock of seeing san here, you didn't even realize he's sat down with you the entire time before he's even got anything to eat.
"you should probably go grab something," you tell him, your tone sweet and concern even if you've yet to really become close to this man.
he briefly checks over his shoulder to find his friends still occupied and not seated, shaking his head.
"i'll wait for them. besides, if i go, i'm afraid you're gonna try to run away."
you can't help the squint that takes over one of your eyebrows, the line between teasing, being friendly, and flirting blurring into one and you feel you're giving yourself too much credits for even thinking of the possibility of the last one.
but before you can say anything, a rather familiar and nice-sounding voice beats you to it.
"hey, y/n!"
it's yunho, face and body language as kind and welcoming as ever, and with his girlfriend wrapped around his arm who you've also learned from san, prefers her korean name, jiwon, over her american given one.
"hey!" you try to be enthusiatic as much as you allowed yourself to without the help of yeosang. this is usually his field of expertise.
they ask about your friends whereabouts the same as san, and you give the same response as they hum and nod in understanding.
"well it's perfect we ran into you here then," yunho beams. "we're thinking of hitting the pool this evening, you guys care to join?"
you're probably the worst person to ask out of your group, swimming not really being your thing and all, but you give yunho your words that you'll ask yeosang and grace first, guaranteeing the fact the two are gonna say yes.
they eventually excuse themselves and bid you goodbye, the process catching some of the other guys attention as they take notice to you and give out small waves before disppearing to get breakfast.
"awesome. i guess i'll see you then."
san snaps you back, meeting his gaze and throwing a smile that could melt you on the spot.
"we'll see," you mumble.
"i should probably leave you to finish your food then. you leaving soon?" he looks down at your plate and you follow, feeling almost embarrassed at the mess that you've only half ate.
"yeah. i think i'm good for breakfast." you chuckle lightly.
he pretends to pout, quirking one side of his lips.
"aww i'm sorry for distracting you. yeah i really should get going."
"oh no you're good. i'll just be on my way."
"alright. i'll see you later?"
"yeah, i'll see you later."
and with that, after watching him walk away as he bids one last farewell, you clear your table and head back upstairs; the encounter heavy on your mind as you start rummaging your luggage for an outfit.
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"no no. you don't understand. you need the perfect swimsuit!"
grace's voice ring throughout the tiny store at the beachfront and you're regretting telling her san's gonna be there at all. because now, she's dead set on impressing san and making sure you wow him tonight.
currently, she's trying to convince you to give in to a black two piece that has the bottom hiked so high up your waist with barely any coverage for the buttocks, you think your father would disown you if he sees you in it.
yeosang distracts himself by the glass and hat sections, leaving you girls to talk amongst yourselves, though he doesn't shy away from passing snide remarks because he knows you even better than grace and that you're shopping way out of your comfort zone.
"girl, i'm looking for clothes to swim in, not to seduce him," you say annoyingly when she won't give up.
"you don't know that!" she squeaks, giving the two piece another once over. "you're gonna look totally hot in it!"
"then buy it for yourself." you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. "i'm not wearing that in front of like what? 8 or something guys."
she frowns before dropping a loud, "fine!" placing the piece back on its rack and turning to you to mimick your posture. "you are such a pick me."
the comment makes you scoff, rolling your eyes at your best friend's antics.
"excuse you. just because i'm a lot more reserved and hesitant doesn't mean i want to be different or whatever society wants to paint us more shy girlies."
"yeah yeah," she brushes you off, waving in the air. the topic one you two already had one too many times. "but i won't need it for myself because i already brought a cute swimsuit from home."
"well that's great. then maybe we can just head back to the hotel," you say, delivery a type of sarcastic to play along but she clearly isnt very amused, pouting and scoffing at you the entire walk back.
"i don't wanna be the only one in a swimsuit!" she yells at you in the comfort of your hotel room, having came down a few minutes ago because she wanted to know what you're gonna wear.
but you dismiss and excuse her complaints with a roll of your eyes. "you'll be fine, grace. and even if, more power and attention to you."
little did you know you'd end up being the odd one out, finally showing up to the pool with your friends and seeing everyone in appropriate attire while you're out with a pair of gym shorts and a black t-shirt, having told your friends you're probably not gonna swim.
"hey guys!"
the voice just now belonging to hongjoong, who you recognize and remember the few occasions you happened to see him with yeosang. he's a year older and already graduated but is definitely the backbone of the group, yeosang said.
everyone already there greets all three of you, friendly smiles and welcoming body languages, the amount of people is quite overwhelming but you try your best to hide it, returning the gestures with a smile of your own.
some's sprawled on the lounge chairs, some already in the pool, and some sitting idly in the hot tub.
but you don't see him anywhere.
you didn't come for him in particular (if you did, you would've bought the two piece your friend so hard tried pushing). you came for your friend and the kindness of his other friend group, but your eyes do naturally search for him and you notice his absence immediately.
but you don't wanna ask. it just doesn't feel right to.
"well don't just stand there! get your butts in the pool!" wooyoung splashes the three of you as you flinch and instinctly try to protect the sketchbook you brought along in case your friends get pulled away by their extroverted activities and you don't have anything better to do.
"jung wooyoung! i'm gonna get you for that!" yeosang shouts, the boy's teasing doing exactly what he wanted as your friend jumps in the pool and chases after a giggly wooyoung.
grace chuckles beside you, pulling you by the wrist. "come on, let's go." but you're quick to stop and tell her you're gonna sit for a bit first.
she sighs but lets it go, threatening to get you wet and soak the sketchbook if you don't get in after a while.
you watch your friends and even if you're not the one having all the fun, the fact they look like they are makes you happy enough, shaking your head and giggling when you see grace and yeosang attempt to do a breath-holding contest or tries submerging the other's head into the water.
you made sure to choose the chair furthest from the pool because you don't want yeosang pulling anything funny.
a couple doodles and swimming competition between wooyoung and yeosang for the 4th time, the sudden voice in your ear makes the hair on your skin raise, flinching slightly to turn and meet his gaze.
he goes from expressionless to a smile that you almost want to poke his dimples for having the guts to show up this close.
and when he pulls away, asking what you're doing, you barely register his words because you're too busy trying to not drool over this man being shirtless and looking like the best art you've ever seen, making anything you've ever created pale in comparison.
but fortunately (or unfortunately), you don't get to dissect him for too long because you're more curious who the lady standing beside him is and why you haven't seen her before.
she's in a ruffle yellow swimsuit with sunglasses and a sunhat that goes perfectly with whatever aesthetic she was going for. and you think she looks like what grace probably had in vision for you when she wanted you to wow san.
"san! ashley! get over here!" you all snap to the call of hongjoong as he waves in the air from the pool, the water stopping at his armpit.
ashley.
"you coming with us?" san asks, his tone welcoming and inviting, but you're gonna sit this one out.
"i'm good," you answer with a small smile, and he quirks his lips to the side at that, dropping his shoulders at the answer before nodding.
"alright," he says. "but you can always join us whenever. if not, i hope you'll have fun," he refers to the sketchbook in your hands and you feel it sinking deep into your chest, a bit embarrassed by the fact but he just laughs it off.
"i'll see you," he bids, making his way to the others and guiding the new girl (to you) by the small of her back.
and you really try to focus on the sketch, your inspirations drawn from people, places, and things around you. the current sunset absolutely beautiful in its orange hue, but you can't miss the laughters and fun san is sharing with the new girl, and you don't miss how the more you're with this man, the more a type of longing blossoms.
how, everytime he's in sight, your eyes just naturally follows him. settles on him. like you just wanna look at him all day.
you shake the thoughts off, which becomes quite easy once yeosang and grace along with a couple others decides they're done for good, and seonghwa, the oldest of you all, suggests to end the night by sharing dinner together.
it's on him and hongjoong, he said.
the rooftop restaurant feels different this time in the company of others. you stick close to your friends and observe everyone else like a lost little puppy when you have nothing better to do.
it's loud and chaotic and you're struggling to keep up with everyone and everything, but you manage to catch the smile of san when grace starts going off about something embarrassing you did in freshmen year as revenge for not getting in the pool.
you shout and defend your name and dignity but it doesn't help much with yeosang jumping in, leading to a long night of teasing and bullying from your friends in the face of everyone as they laugh at the 'endearing' friendships you guys share.
and by the end of the night, you almost forgot about san or the fact you guys barely interacted. not until you're fresh out the shower and recovering your social battery that you get the first text from him in a while.
san: it's true the story your friend told?
you can't even help the chuckle that escapes, catching yourself and going on to reply.
y/n: 😭 i hate grace lmfao
san: it's okay😅 we all just casually poop our pants in the middle of the night
y/n: 🙄
san: kidding 😁
san: hey. i was thinking if you'd like to get breakfast together tomorrow?
san: im sorry we didn't get to talk a lot today. you looked so uncomfortable during dinner 😅
the comment flusters you, thinking about the fact san was watching and saw how out of place you really looked.
y/n: just not used to big crowds lol
san: i can see that
san: but it's okay. it'll just be us tmr 🙂
y/n: won't your friends be there?
san: nope. they dont like the food lol
san: how about urs? will they be coming?
y/n: most likely not. those two don't wake until almost noon
san: perfect lol. i'll see you then?
y/n: maybee 😀
and he probably didn't push too hard because it's almost like he knew you're gonna be there; waking up before it's even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.
his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn't feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.
"hey!" he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.
"good morning," you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can't see them because you wonder what he'd think.
"how you'd sleep?" he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn't even think it was possible.
"good," you manage to answer with composure. "and you?"
"alright." he shrugs. "wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night's dinner."
a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. "well i'm sorry to hear. i hope today will be better."
he nods. "hopefully." then realizing you haven't even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, "don't tell me you were waiting for me."
"i was," you say. "don't worry about it. i'm not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty."
"if you say so..." he lingers a bit before continuing, "should we go now?"
"sure."
you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they've switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.
"well, i really only eat korean foods," you tell him. "i'm not too fond of anything else besides what's on my plate right now."
"ahh. so you're a picky eater?"
"somewhat. that's why yeosang hates going out to eat with me."
san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don't read into.
"you talk about yeosang a lot... does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?" he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.
the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can't hide the fact the question flusters you a little.
"well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while... even before grace, so she understands that we don't see each other like that at all."
san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.
"why?" you speak again. "do we give out that kind of vibe?" you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn't get rid of.
but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.
"just wondering," he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can't quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san's answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.
"and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?" you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know... not for any reasons deeper.
"she's a friend," he answers fast and casual. "i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot."
"i see," you mumble, a light smile anyone would've missed because you don't wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.
but it doesn't cut it with grace.
"that's what they always say!" she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.
but you don't have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don't think it's fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn't really your man.
"for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors."
"grace!" you yell your friend's name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.
"sorry," she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.
"i just don't want you to be hurt in the end," she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn't even know you need.
because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons... but you don't feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.
you're not with him and you still don't even know if you wanna be with him.
“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”
and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.
how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.
the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.
yet, you don't let what your friend says get to you. or at least you try not to, but it's loud and it bothers you through the day... if someone as likeable as san would be able to hurt you.
if he could lie and deceive you and not even feel bad about it.
but when he pops by your side at night; yours and his friend group having the want to go clubbing, and he stays with you almost entirely, neglecting the girl grace said you should be worried about, you can't even remember why you doubted him in the first place.
not when he'd ask questions about you all night long as if he really wants to know you, so interested in the arts and work you do and accompanying you when everyone else is busy enjoying themselves.
and especially when he'd get breakfast with you every morning until the trip is over, a part of you glad but another saddened by the fact because you know you won't get to see him everyday anymore.
you'll have to go back to the old routine of working and assignments, no more butterflies or feelings of tightness in your chest and stomach, uncertain when you're gonna even get to see or talk to him again.
but one thing you know for sure, is that by the end of summer, you're positive you like choi san.
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you're positive you like san, because every time your phone rings with a notification, you can't help but wish it's him--replying to a meme you've sent a few hours ago, or asking how your day has been.
that when grace commented on how your art style has changed, as if they've been pulled and inspired by someone or something, she wasn't just trying to tease you.
grace also being the same person to explain the feelings in your chest and stomach, and why your breath is taken away each time whenever you see him.
even if she was skeptical a few months ago and yelling in your face he's gonna hurt you, seeing the way he is around you has calmed her mind to some extent.
the way he actually treats you with interests and and respect, listening and nodding when you talk and asking you about everything, managing to convince your friend somewhat he might take a liking to you and that you won't come out of this wounded.
he's even become closer with yeosang; the craziness of just how different but also alike these two are, able to carry a conversation on for hours and making grace and you feel forgotten.
"so you guys are coming, right?" san asks the three of you in a corner of the library, quick to associate the spot with you and your friends after asking about your whereabouts one day.
"uh--"
"of course!" yeosang beats you to it, both you and grace narrowing your eyes at the boy in the middle. "we wouldn't wanna miss it."
grace sneers and throws yeosang another look.
"right, because the other two parties where you made a clown show of yourself wasn't enough." she shakes her head and lowers it back to her notebook, mumbling under her breath, "i'm not babysitting."
yeosang pouts immediately, putting on an act and a voice to go with it that makes you wanna throw a punch his way.
"babe, please..."
"no."
"it'd be the last college party before we graduate."
"no."
then he turns to you and hopes you'll take pity.
"y/n?"
you fume under your nose and follow grace as you start scribbling so he gets the hint, because you also don't wanna go to this party. even if wooyoung's the one throwing it and you're all gonna be graduating soon.
you'd rather just end your college career in peace.
"san's going so you're already automatically going anyway," yeosang says, losing his patience and throwing you under the bus to be petty, receiving a kick to his ankle from under the table in return.
"you really should think about coming," san brings it up one more time on the walk to your next class, after leaving the lovebirds in the library to talk it out between them.
you come to a stop when you've both reached the building, standing before him with your textbook curled in your arms and quirking your lips to the side.
"i'll think about it, but if grace don't wanna come, yeosang probably won't."
"why not come by yourself?" he suggests, like it's the easiest thing in the world. but he knows you well at this point, adding, "i know it's probably scary going without your friends, but trust me, you won't be alone. i'll be there so you won't ever have to worry about it." he smiles.
and his words. his body language. his smile. they all come off so sincere and genuine, you just wanna believe him and everything he says.
that he won't ever hurt you. make you feel inadequate and question everything about yourself, because liking someone isn't supposed to feel painful and it isn't supposed to make your heart ache.
but when you show up to the party without your friends, the people you recognize doesn't do anything to ease your anxiety, especially when the number pales in comparison to people you don't recognize.
and by now, you're more than sure you like san because despite his efforts to make you feel welcomed and comfortable amongst the sea of strangers he knows scares you, it doesn't matter when the girl beside him makes you feel uneasy all night.
when butterflies and a beating heart are replaced by the wish to run, liking someone is no longer fun.
"what! you are such a liar!" ashley squeaks with a giggle, pushing san's shoulder lightly in a friendly banter. the kind that makes you feel like you're intruding and disrupting something confidential by following san all night like a lost puppy.
"no! i'm forreal," san defends himself from the girl's teasing, his cheeks flushing pink even in the bad kitchen lighting.
"you were messing with her!"
he chuckles and you're wondering why you're still even here--or how the conversation of san and another girl not you or ashley even started.
"i promise, we were just friends," he says.
ashley shakes her head, smirking the same time she drinks from the cup in her hand, and when she looks san in the eye, she isn't just the girl san's friend with anymore.
because if grace were to yell in your face again about this girl and all the reasons you should be worried, you would agree with her.
even if you still don't feel justified... you like san now, and you can't help but think she's a threat.
"cute, isn't he?" she turns to you, her gaze burning and making you feel small on the spot. her confidence something she walks with proudly and with an aura you hate yourself for even admiring, "but unfortunately a hard one to tie down."
her words and tone cryptic, you can only blink as you try to digest what she said just now and if it was meant to be a dig at you.
you clear your throat, not feeling any bigger with the volume but excusing yourself either way to use the restroom.
just sit in there and think of any excuses in order to get out of here, regretting not staying with yeosang and grace to watch alice in borderland for the 5th time while eating wingstop.
because if you did, you wouldn't be feeling this way. out of place and with the boy you like slipping right by the palm of your hand.
your phone buzzing in your lap takes the moment away, looking down to see the one person you wanna hear from, even if he's also responsible for the doubts in your head.
san: hey. you good?
san: im outside the bathroom. i don't wanna knock though bc im scared it might not be you in there lol
you don't respond, instead going to open the door even if you should be contemplating about a valid reason to go home, chest and face nearly knocking into him, you can only gulp.
"hey." he smiles.
"hey," you mumble, wondering if he can even hear especially with the amount of bodies littering the hallway, but he does judging by the reaction.
"you okay?" he asks, voice concerned the way it always is.
"yeah..." you answer, your stance so awkward. "just needed some space." you try laughing it off, to which he returns one much to your relief.
"i see. well, should we go somewhere quieter? with less people?"
"actually..." your volume simmers, afraid he's gonna take it the wrong way. "i was thinking of going home."
he stares at you a second too long before responding with a simple "oh." the wheels going off in his head until an idea comes over. "that's fine. i can take you home."
"no, you're good. yeosang said he'd pick me up when i'm ready."
"no, let me. i want to. plus, i invited you so it's only fair."
and you weren't gonna argue with him; not when he was already pulling out his keys and telling you to follow him out the house and into his car.
"aren't you a little drunk?" you tease, after watching him pull at the seatbelt.
"a little." he smirks, turning to you. "but i'm good for the most part. i didn't drink that much."
right. because he was mostly engaged and immersed in conversations and banters that you weren't a part of, with the girl you're still wondering what happened to.
"where did your friend go?" you ask, as casually as possible.
"ashley? she got pulled away by some pool table game wooyoung they wanted to play."
you just nod, though the many unanswered questions about this friend bothers you, moving to look ahead and admire the size of wooyoung's house the same time san starts the engine. and that's when you realize, this might be the first time you and san are actually alone.
without hotel guests, nosy friends, partygoers, or people that frequents the cafe, but more importantly--without being behind the screens of your phones.
"the university's dorms, correct?"
"correct."
as he drives you back to the place, he can't stop asking questions.
"how'd you like it there?"
"pretty good. i have all i need, and the best part is i get to room with grace, so."
he sends a small smile your way in midst of driving, and you think he looks so attractive doing so. his hands on the wheel and his relaxed stance as he listens attentively like the boyfriend you never had.
"that's great," he says, coming to a stop at a red light, looking your way immediately. "that's a nice outfit by the way. i can't believe i didn't tell you earlier."
and you really wanna blush and grow shy at the fact he pays you this much attention, but you really just giggle instead.
"well thanks. you look pretty great yourself."
he steps on the gas at the green and scoffs but the corner of his lips pulling into a small smile.
"you're just saying that to say it."
you wanna tell him he don't even know how much you mean it. how unbelievable it is-- the fact he just walks around looking like that all the time.
but you chuckle it off and you're sure he's just playing with you, the drive weaving through the fall weather and city lights as an air of fresh and relief come over, you can't believe you were so apprehensive not even 40 minutes ago back at wooyoung's party.
"here we are," he says, pulling into the dorm's parking lot you had to help him find.
"thanks," you tell him. "i appreciate it."
"no problem," he replies, a silence lingering after and an expression on his face that something's clearly bothering him. "hey..."
"yeah?"
"i'm sorry about tonight... if anything made you uncomfortable."
you only smile, though the reminder makes your heart heavy with today's events, you're happy he noticed and care.
it seems to just be how he is; eyes and ears always attentive and sometimes a little too curious.
"it's okay," you assure. because even if you are upset, it doesn't feel like you have the rights to. as if you're just making all of this up in your head to ruin the night. "i think it was mostly because yeosang and grace wasn't there," you lie.
"i understand. would've been a lot better if they had made it."
"yeah, but it's okay. you going back after dropping me off?"
he nods. "i have to, unfortunately. wooyoung would want me to."
you hum lowly in acknowledgment, your legs closed together and your throat tight all of a sudden.
"well i hope you'll have fun the rest of the night. i'm sorry i couldn't stay longer."
"i'll try to," he says, a quiet giggle leaving. "won't be the same without you but probably should've picked a better place, you know."
"it's all good," you say with a smile, head whipping around to the darkly lit dorm building and its entrance. "i should probably get going."
"should i walk with you?"
you look at him while unbuckling your seatbelt, shaking your head. "i got it. i'd rather you get back to your friends."
he opens his mouth to say something but quickly takes it back, trying again.
"hey," he says so softly, you can almost melt into the look in his eyes, staring at you with blinking lashes.
"yeah?"
"so i thought this was really nice, you know... the car ride and all." he stops for a second to find his words. "i was wondering if you'd like to do it again? i think the cafe's nice, but this is a good change of scenery."
and you wonder if san can hear the beating of your heart especially in the quiet of his car, but you quickly pick yourself up to answer, "i'd love to do this again." you smile, and san returns one.
"perfect. i'll text you."
"i look forward."
which is why even if you didn't have the greatest of time; most of the night spent in self-doubts and regrets, you also don't beat yourself up for what he could be doing after he dropped you off.
what he's doing at the party or who he's having fun with, because afterall, he asked you out.
said it with a sweet look in his eyes and a tone to match, you'd rather look forward to what went right than what didn't; sleeping under your sheet in the dark of the night, sacrificing any uncertainty for restful sleep.
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"these fries are way too salty."
you listen to san complains, his posture relaxed but face scowling at the fast food he just shoved down his throat a few seconds ago.
a laugh bubbles out of you and you shake your head, munching on the fries you protested on getting, but san way too stubborn to convince otherwise.
"you're right. maybe we should've gotten burgers," he says, looking at you and placing the food back in the bag. "never again."
"maybe," you mutter with a quiet giggle.
san had texted you exactly two days after the party, the reminder cracking the biggest smile on your face that grace took notice to and immediately wanted to know the cause of.
"it's totally a date!" your friend says, squealing after you tell her of why you wanna blush just now.
"it's not a date."
she sighs and rolls her eyes, prying your phone right from your hand that gets you up from the bed to fight her.
"he even put a smiling emoji. what else would that mean!?" she continues squeaking and dodging your attempts, until you manage to snatch it back.
"i think he's just being nice."
he picked you up, asked for suggestions on what to eat (and didn't listen), and paid for everything before pulling into the parking lot of a store opened 24 hours.
"so..." he starts speaking, hands cleared of salt from the fries and now looking at you through his car's lighting. "excited to graduate soon?"
you nod. "of course. and you?"
"for sure," he answers, attention pulled away to the front merely before meeting your eyes again. "any plans yet?"
"not much luck. kind of figure i'll think about that after," you answer with a dry chuckle. your bleak future not something to laugh about, but it's a way of coping. "you?"
and you asked out of pure curiosity and interest, but at the way his face falls, you would've thought you insulted him. watching his eyes go dark and almost nervous, the atmosphere shifting when he just sits in silence for too long.
"sorry," you mumble apologetically, bringing light to his eyes once more when he just shakes his head.
"no, you're good. i'm sorry. i was just thinking."
"it's okay," you assure, "if it's still something you're thinking of."
"yeah." he smiles, the act almost forced, but you try to not linger on the thought. why he tends to shut down when you ask too many questions and want to know too much... the same he does to you.
"hey," he attempts to revive the atmosphere he was responsible for killing. "can i ask you something?"
you tilt your head slightly at that, placing the empty bag of fries back where it came from and nodding in response.
"we talked about this briefly, but i really wanna know how you felt about the party. you didn't look like you enjoyed it at all." and it wasn't because yeosang nor grace were there.
you swallow, unprepared for the topic to make it back around, but answering with honesty to the best of your ability; just slightly leaving out what really shattered your confidence that night.
"it's just hard for me in general to really enjoy myself in that kind of setting." though you tried and was having some fun, until you weren't.
"i understand, and i appreciate you for trying. i just still feel bad for pulling you along when it was clearly out of your comfort zone, so i have to make sure."
it's the way he speaks and acts, always asking about you and caring about your wellbeing more than he should--that makes it hard to want to be upset when he doesn't want you to do the same in return.
when he closes himself off, always with the invisible barrier you shouldn't cross because he doesn't wanna tell you more than what you should know.
"it's just more so i also didn't really know anyone there. everyone else were occupied, and you were uh... talking to your friend," you say, mumbling the last part because you think you might be pushing it, but san doesn't seem fazed. he just shifts in his spot.
"yeah," he answers coolly, "hard to get her to stop talking once she starts." a light smile curls up at his lips and you try to not let it bother you.
but it's like he can read your thoughts; knows exactly the concerns running through your head and the apprehension overtaking your face when he spits the next sentence, "there's nothing going on between us, if that's what you're wondering. when i said she's a friend, i mean it."
and you don't know whether to be relieved or embarrassed he knows you a little too well.
"though she did like me at one point, that's the past," he adds, searching you for any signs of a reaction, and he gets one he also knows too well.
when your lips goes into a pout and your eyes swell with a type of curioisity in them, eager to poke your nose where it doesn't belong.
"and did you... like her back?" you ask timidly, knowing it isn't your ground but unable to help it.
san's snicker leaves you in confusion, and even more when he just shrugs.
"we're better off as friends. that's what matters."
the answer doesn't lessen the knot in your stomach nor does it bring you any form of relief, even if san doesn't particularly owe you any.
"what's with the face?" his voice snaps you out of your thought and to puppy eyes and blinking lashes staring right back almost mocking you as if he knows exactly what's making you so upset right now.
"nothing," you say, faking a smile. "just thinking."
but there's a shift in atmosphere again, whether you and san wanna acknowledge it or not. something tense that makes you a little on edge, but in a way different from before--the food and drinks and being parked in a public space forgotten at this point.
"have you ever been in a relationship before?" he asks abruptly, the question making you swallow the tension as you try your best to keep the composure.
"i've been in one," you answer, not disappointing him when you return the question, "how about you?"
he smirks, one eyebrow raising when he simply says, "two."
"two?" you repeat, voice raising like you don't believe it. "you look like you'd have a lot more experience."
the comment makes him laugh, his body falling and head thumping against the car seat while his gaze never leaves you.
"what makes you think that?" he says, the smirk once again creeping to his lips as he stares at you in amusement, the scene and tension having switched up so fast, you don't even remember when it ever felt like this in the presence of san.
when all friendliness and formality were gone and replaced by something else that makes you wanna be bolder and get closer to him.
you shrug lightly. "guess it's the way you carry yourself." that makes it so hard to believe.
"either way, if i'm gonna get into a relationship with someone, i have to know them well first and i'd have to be sure it's something i want."
you nod in agreement, though san never particularly striked you as the type to think so much about these kind of things... but again, you feel he's also just barely letting you into a certain part of him he haven't ever.
"that's fair. i would agree," you say, only to a chuckle from him that makes you squint in confusion. "what?"
both his hands are now behind his head and he's looking so entertained for whatever reason.
"you just seem more like the kind to go out of your way to avoid any romantic interactions," he says, giggling after with dimples you can't even admire because you're more flustered by the comment.
"it's more like... i find those things hard unless i'm attracted to someone," you clarify even if you know he's right to an extent, "and it's not often i am attracted to someone, so."
and how funny that when you finally are, he's sitting right across from you with a smirk and unaware of how he's making you feel just being in the same perimeter--or so you think.
"the first guy i was with, i always found intimacy difficult... especially kissing," you add, unsure if you're stepping over the line but you and san are old enough for this.
you're sure he even enjoys it, if the mirth in his eyes and the widest smile on his face says anything.
"maybe you didn't like him that much?" he suggests, tone thrilled like it's some form of fun guessing game. "or he was probably just a sloppy kisser."
"no, like... he was good but i was the one who couldn't kiss for shit," you defend your ex's name, feeling like you have to because he wasn't a bad guy.
"i see," he mumbles, the smirk settling into a soft smile. "at least it was enjoyable for you."
"yeah," you answer, the conversation getting so much more awkward for you. "how was your first kiss like?"
"it was okay." he was anticipating such response by how fast he replied. "it was both of our first time and i did it at the time because i really thought she was the one, but funny to think about it now."
there's a quick silence after as you just stare, the next question already at the tip of your tongue.
"and did you also thought the same for your second relationship?"
he nods to it, gaze now locking yours right back and the even longer silence makes you think he's gonna kiss you. with only the two of you in the car and the moon high in the sky, it's the perfect setup.
but instead, he takes you back to the dorms after moving on and forgetting about the whole conversation and drops you off with a sweet and friendly smile.
he doesn't kiss you. not this time or any others when he could've.
even if it would've been nice if he did. if he was sure it was something he wanted, and that you were the one. but it's okay, because you've convinced yourself that being with him is enough.
happy and content he still sends good morning texts, and still wants to hang out once in a while. that he still comments under your instagram posts that happens once in a blue moon, and he still sends you stupid memes.
because you're just the slightest afraid that if you try pushing your feelings onto him, he might not wanna do any of those things anymore.
so you keep him close; even if not in the way you really want, he's still beside you. that's what matters.
"he likes you, y/n!" grace preaches while pacing back and forth.
you were just enjoying your day off and with a book in your hand when your roommate and best friend came back from a date--with the first thing on her mind somehow being you and san.
"he doesn't," you answer, annoyed at this point and already having put down the book after losing your place at least three times due to her.
"no." she pouts and plops down on her bed facing you. "i've seen the way he looks and act around you. my instinct has a 90% accuracy."
seen how san's eyes would always linger on you whenever you're in the room, and having caught the smiles that would usually decorate his lips when you do something clumsy or endearing.
going above and beyond to do and say things that if yeosang was to do and say to another girl, she'd drag him by the ear and make him sleep outside.
but the statement's only met with an eyeroll from you.
"your instinct said san and ashley were fucking and they weren't, so?"
"that was the other 10%," your friend yaps, calming one second after. "i want you to just trust me on this one. if he doesn't like you, he wouldn't do what he does for you."
but you just can't help but to grow more irritated even if it's done out of good intentions. you're already frustrated and confused and grace isn't helping.
"maybe because he's just a nice person in general," you tell her, never having witnessed san be rude and unkind to anyone ever.
your friend sighs, her shoulders dropping but still wanting to encourage and give you some form of hopes because she knows how much you like san. how much you wish he'd ask you out.
"he might be just as scared of rejection or messing up the friendship," she says, then pauses because it's gonna be out of your comfort zone but you have to try. "why don't you ask him out?"
your eyes go wide and you cringe at even the thought of it, telling your friend she's crazy for even thinking of it.
san doesn't like you and you're sure of that.
if he did, he probably would've told you by now, and he would've kissed you all those times when he had the chance. when it was just you and him in his car, in your dorm room, and back at the restaurant.
so you didn't plan on telling him, because you didn't think you could like san even more than you already did.
like him so much to the point that keeping it in was actually painful; when it felt like the only form of relief was to tell him.
at least not until spring again.
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"what are you doing?" san's voice pulls your eyes from the sketch and to his face as he stares at you amusingly, your posture incredibly funny to him since you're trying to hide what you're working on.
feet planted on the cushion of the cafe's chair and elbows on your knees with your sketchbook just below your eyes, gawking and peeking at him for the last hour or so.
"i'm making art," you tell him, a giggle bubbling out after that san shakes his head to.
spring has returned. the petals once again fallen from the cherry blossom trees with the wind carrying it away in the streets as the cold chill from winter quiets down even if you still shiver and need a sweater.
you and san are seated at the same table in the corner and he's currently watching the spring show, his eyes following lone petals when they're still attached to the root until they become nothing but scatters on the streets.
his grey hoodie and sharp features a sight to see, especially when it's next to a big glass window with a view to match, though you think san is more beautiful. more than any spring blossoms or art.
feelings of butterflies and a fast heartbeat now replaced by something else--not that you still don't get them once in a while, but everything feels more natural. comfortable.
you find yourself caring for him in ways you usually didn't before. whether he ate, slept, or is genuinely feeling okay--you wanna know and hear all about it.
when he's happy, you're happy with him. but when he's sad or dejected, you also can't help but to feel the same. the last couple of months a ride of events that really tested just how strong the bond and friendship between you and san really is; never would you have predicted you'd grow to care so much about anyone else besides yeosang and grace.
"you shouldn't really be doodling. instead, use the time wisely to really think about what you wanna submit for the exhibition," he says, arms now crossed and eyes away from the window.
"don't worry. i already got an idea," you assure, a playful smile on your lips.
among other things san has helped you with, he was the biggest advocator in you entering the student art exhibition that will be taking place shortly just after the end of the semester.
you've always felt self conscious putting your work out, always choosing and picking carefully even when it came to posting on social media. and even then, your account is privated so only those close to you could see.
art is the only thing you've ever felt truly good at, letting your creations define you more than necessarry, and you're so afraid you'll be told one day that what you do and love isn't good enough.
"i want to but i'm also really not sure," you say, in the peace of the library with san across; the distress and conflict on your face as clear as day.
"why not?" san frowns. "i've seen your work. they're good enough to go in a museum, y/n."
the compliment makes you roll your eyes the same time you let out a scoff. "you're just saying that."
he shakes his head. "i'm so forreal. you're the best artist i know."
"i'm the only artist you know."
"that's not true. i also know uh... leonardo da vinci."
you laugh at that. "but i don't have an artwork worth at least 800 million, so unfortunately i am not better."
"i really don't think the mona lisa's all that great. any of your work would blow it out of the water easy."
there's a second of silence before you start laughing again, prompting san to giggle in return, but he starts, "i'm serious. you should really do it. plus, you'll be graduating soon. i think it's a great opportunity."
"when is it again?" he ask.
"june the 18th," you say, placing your sketchbook and pen down. "you'll be there, right?"
he nods at first, a simple smile settling on him. "of course," he answers, "i'll be there. i promise."
and as the day goes on, sitting in the comfort of the cafe with san as you continue the sketch you started and he occasionally switches between sipping his coffee and the assignment on his laptop, it gets harder to ignore the even stranger feeling that encloses you almost completely.
when the blooming of flowers and trees are fresh, along with the soft, gentle breeze of spring--you think you might be in love with san.
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it seemed like it was just yesterday that you were talking graduation with yeosang and grace, but not even a year later, it's become a reality with your cap and gown sitting on your bed and the graduation ceremony merely a week away.
you think, even if with barely any plans after but to move back with your father and see where life takes you, you're still excited.
excited for the next step and for what's to come.
but san on the other hand, never seems too thrilled whenever you bring it up.
you know him to be an open person, always willing to talk about anything and everything; not a single mean bone in this man, except when it comes to talking about himself.
who he really is and who he wants to be after... he never wants to talk about it, so you try to not push it. be understanding and figure that maybe he isn't ready, yet.
that when he wants to tell you and wants you to know, he will.
but it's been a year since you've known him, and with each passing day, what you feel for him only grows gradually; so much that being friends just doesn't cut it anymore.
the feeling of love both exciting but also suffocating, you didn't even know.
you don't mind being friends with him, but staying that way means stopping what could be, and for some reason, the confidence that san feels the same also grows with every moment spent with him.
you didn't use to think so. dismissed grace's "instinct" and all that, chalking it up to san's natural personality to be kind and treat everyone with respect. but you started to see what she was talking about a while ago. you'd like to believe it.
how he's been a lot more touchy and sentimental these past few days; a look always in his eyes like apprehension that you can't quite read into but know something's on his mind. like he wanna say and tell you about it but can't.
then when he texts you the day just before graduation, asking if you two can talk later on in the evening, you certainly feel like this is it.
that he didn't do all of those things for you just to be nice or to be a friend. why else would he had asked to talk if it isn't something significant that he couldn't annouce through text?
you enter san's car that evening with a beating heart and a tight stomach, feeling so nervous and sick, you feel the food you ate just an hour ago coming back up.
and though it's a scene you're all too familiar with--you and san in the parking lot of the university's dorm building, there's an air in tonight's meeting you can't quite gauge.
something tense that makes the both of you sit in silence for a few seconds too long, nervousness gnawing at you once more while you start to doubt if the same is what's causing the current discomfort on san's face.
"hey," you start, trying to lighten the atmosphere that has gotten so awkward already, and you haven't even confessed. "how has your day been?"
he finally lifts his head up to look at you, his hands off the steering wheel and settling on his lap as he try to smile forcefully, you can tell.
"it was good, yeah..." he answers, tone dull and tired, you wonder if maybe he didn't get enough sleep. "you?" he asks in return but it doesn't sound like any other times.
like he didn't ask because he's genuinely interested, but because he has to.
"it was also good. yeah..."
you swallow down the knot in your throat, another long silence engulfing the car as you and san listen to footsteps and chitters of students having just arrived.
"i have something to tell you," you both say and turn to each other at the same time, the scary coincidence of the timing has both your eyes wide as echoes of giggles let loose temporarily.
despite the unpredictability of the other person and the possible turmoil after, you both can laugh for now.
"you go first," he says, nodding his chin your direction and sitting with a beating heart just a tad lower than yours that to you, fills your ears and the entire car.
you take a deep breath, your fingers naturally finding each other in moments of distress and finally uttering the words you've been wanting to tell him for a few months now.
"san, w-we've known each other for about a year now and i know this might be dramatic of me, b-but you're probably the best thing to happen to me," you speak so fast, another habit of yours when under pressure, barely looking him in the eyes to even notice the look in them, "and, and... i think what i wanna say is i like you. i really really like you and i wanna tell you that."
and when you finally level his eyes again, so relieved it's out now, but when you only see the cold, indifferent reaction, nothing like you predicted, you fear the worst.
and when san breaks your heart for the first time, you know you messed up majorly.
"i'm sorry," he mumbles, almost murmuring and keeps his head down as if ashamed to say such thing, "really really sorry."
messed up by letting feelings get in the way of a wonderful friendship with a wonderful person, and let his act of kindness get to your head because how could san ever possibly feel the same?
"no. i'm sorry," you say, volume barely above a whisper and voice between crying and staying strong in front of him. "i-i shouldn't have said that."
"no. it's okay. don't feel bad," he tries assuring in his usual calm and collected tone, but even he knows you don't believe him. but he means it, because he has way more to feel bad and be sorry for. "it's just..."
he can hardly look you in the eyes, your expression of heartbreak and guilt something he should be going through instead.
"i'm gonna be leaving in two days."
it suddenly feels like the world stopped at the drop of those words. your chest constricting and your breath hard to catch, the rejection nothing compared to the realization.
the hard reality that you're gonna be losing san. one moment as if he's right in front of you, you could almost grab him, and the next he's slipping right out of your grasp. just like that.
loving someone is such a horrible, awful feeling.
"w-where to?" you ask, the crack in your voice makes san wince and he can't wait for the night to be over with. for him, and for you.
"seoul, south korea," he answers lowly, pausing before adding, "that's what i wanted to tell you tonight."
and suddenly, everything makes sense. like having found pieces of puzzles you couldn't ever; it all hits you at once.
the first time you met him.
“i went into it because the people around me said i was good at it,” he says, a bit unfazed and dull. “that’s pretty much it, i guess.” and ending it with a smile when he catches your gaze again.
“but do you enjoy it?”
there’s a quick silence and san tilts his head slightly, quirking his lips to the side before answering.
“it’s not bad. if anything, it’s been easy, so i’m glad for that at least.”
you nod, smiling in return.
“that’s good. only one more year and we’ll be done.”
"yeah," he says, letting out a loose chuckle after. "i can't wait. there's something i want to do after, but for now, we'll have to see what happens."
the party.
“cute, isn’t he?” she turns to you, her gaze burning and making you feel small on the spot. her confidence something she walks with proudly and with an aura you hate yourself for even admiring. “but unfortunately a hard one to tie down.”
and all those times he'd dodge your questions and never want to answer anything concerning what it is he actually wants to do, or even how he grew up.
simply because san never planned to stay.
he was always meant to go after... even if he got to know you. he never wanted to be anything more with you.
you can't help the sense of betrayal that blooms from deep within, never wanting to have any ill feelings toward san but the hurt is so strong, you don't remember a time in your life you've ever felt this way before.
being mislead for so long and kept hidden in the dark. but even then, you can't seem to bring yourself to hate him.
a tear pricks your eye and you attempt to wipe it away, voice hoarse when you speak again, "that's what you always wanted to do, right?"
san just nods, unable to see him clearly through the tears multiplying and his gaze that has turned away.
"hey," you say, a soft call that san responds to, his fox eyes staring back that you're gonna miss. "i hope it goes well." you smile, a mixture of bitter and sweet.
"i know it will," you say once more, swallowing the knot dying in your throat and searching san for any reactions.
maybe you don't know who he was before or who he's gonna be after, but you know him right now. the boy you met a year ago and made you feel so many things; butterflies down to heartbreak--who, you're still so madly in love with, you don't even have it in you to wish him anything but well.
why would you wanna keep him in the small palms of your hands when there's a world out there much bigger waiting for him. a world that could make him so much happier and content.
you would never be upset about that.
when it looks like san isn't gonna say anything, his mind continuously in thought but lips unable replicate, you're the one to break the tension yet again, figuring he just needs time.
even if he's had time... to prepare all of this and for what he was gonna say, yet he's drawing nothing but blanks in the actual presence of you.
"i should uh, i should probably go," you announce when the silence sits for too long. "graduation is tomorrow and grace wants to wake up early in preparation."
he nods just as he's done cowardly before.
"i'll see you there?" your voice squeaks slightly for the first time tonight; some kind of hope and excitement in them.
you don't know whether he nods or hum, or if he even answers. just a vagueness to his expression that you take for a yes, because why wouldn't he be.
but if you knew at the time, that when you go to search for the familiar head of black in the crowd during the ceremony and you wouldn't find him, you would have said more
if you knew that even during the celebration after; a restaurant across the streets your friends wanted to go to, that he still isn't gonna come, you would've stayed longer last night.
tell him everything and wish him all the good in the world... if you knew that was the last time you would see him.
act like you're not constantly checking the door of the restaurant in hope he'd show up even for one last time so you won't feel so dejected and have all of yeosang, grace, and wooyoung look at you with pity.
say you're just tired and continue acting like your heart didn't do a flip at the drop of his name when yunho asks about his whereabouts and wooyoung tells the group he's busy packing for tomorrow morning.
none of them seem to be aware he was leaving, besides wooyoung and your friends (for obvious reasons).
hold back your tears and attempt to not crack when you finally get wooyoung to yourself, telling him if he could give something to san.
something you've been planning to for a while but wanted to wait till it was finished, and when it was, you kind of forgot about it. until suddenly.
assure wooyoung it's okay when he tells you he's told san on plenty of occasions he needed to let you know.
and finally, when you get back to the dorms, you allow yourself to cry in grace's arms but also assuring her you're gonna be okay and she doesn't need to stay up with you
when it's past midnight, hugging your knees on edge of your bed in the dark watching as the trees sways outside the window, you wonder if this was how your uncle and mother felt.
why your uncle decided to move halfway across the country and leave everything he knew behind just for love, and why your mother still married your father despite everything against them.
a part of you finally starting to understand all the sacrifices and compromises yeosang and grace makes.
love is so strange.
you give into the events of today and curl up in bed, pulling the blanket over and closing your eyes.
before the blooming of flowers and trees, and the soft, gentle breeze of spring could even pass, san leaves you.
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a month later
"don't be so nervous. you look great."
grace turns you by the shoulders to the mirror and you can hardly recognize yourself. the short black satin dress hugging your body and skin adorned in jewelries that doesn't even belong to you, nor are the heels on your feet.
you really didn't even think you'd be going, let alone have your work accepted for the exhibition among hundreds of other submissions.
have your work out in the open and on display for people other than your friends to see and judge. it's nerve-racking, but grace think you should at least dress for the occasion.
"yeosang said he'll be here in 15," she tells you.
you're nervous just sitting around, and even more so on the way to the gallery, the awful music yeosang has blasting not helping a bit.
"cookie points to whoever finds y/n's art first," grace says from the front, her lips turning upward as she challenges her boyfriend.
"that's easy. we can probably see the watercolor and blue from a mile away," he teases, prompting grace to smack him lightly by the arm; his comment making a scoff leave your mouth.
they don't know what you submitted. you didn't want them to, saying you wanted to really surprise them and get an honest opinion as it was the piece you probably took the longest on and put the most thoughts to.
the arrival doesn't make you feel any better, more cars than you predicted lined up at the front and in the parking lot, you have to take a deep breath.
"hey," yeosang says, his head peeking over the car seat with a small smile, "tonight's gonna be great. you go in there and get familiar with everyone and we'll meet you soon?"
you nod, unbuckling your seatbelt and undoing the wrinkles on your dress, ready to head out.
"good luck!" grace squeals just before you're out the car, waving to your friends as they grow further away to find parking.
you've been here a couple times before but never for your own work, of course. making way inside and glad that the first face you see is one of your professors from a class you had, his smile welcoming and you keep yourself close until it's time for the showcase, your natural tendency to stick close to people you know.
you finally spot your friends halfway into it, the two shamelessly standing in front of your work and shooting you looks they know is gonna make you flush in embarrassment.
the night goes on and that feeling of nervousness and anxiety easing the more other students also talk to you and compliments your work with you doing the same in return because everyone here is truly talented.
each and every artwork telling a different story and probably held closely by the artists themselves.
"see! that wasn't so bad," grace says, having ran to you the second you're free from the circle of students and professors, pushing you playfully by the shoulder and getting a giggle in response.
"i guess so."
"by the way, love the art!" she squeaks, so much happier and excited than you.
"and it definitely wasn't because your name was written on top that we knew, but your style is just too distinct," yeosang adds, "only thing different this time is it's pink."
you smile, the process of having to come up with something you'll be okay with everyone else seeing all coming back. how, it took a while, but once you knew, you wanted it to be as perfect as possible.
the pink cherry blossom tree next to a body of lake and the field next to it decorated in countless dandelions, all painted in the style you're best at--the watercolor really bringing life to the picture.
it's not often you can say you're proud of your own creations, but you can say you really like this one.
"well thanks, guys," you tell them, a laugh bubbling out at the end. "really appreciate you two coming out tonight."
"well, duh." grace rolls her eyes dramatically, her lips turning to a smile after. "we know this means a lot to you."
"for sure," yeosang says, checking the surrounding briefly before continuing, "you should probably finish up things here with everyone else first. me and grace are gonna head out to a shop nearby and we'll come pick you up when you're ready?"
"yeah. i probably should." because seeing the rest of the students and professors stuck in conversations, it doesn't seem right to just up and leave. you need a proper farewell at least. "i'll let you guys know."
you spend the next couple of minutes out of courtesy attempting to talk to anyone you could until the place mostly start clearing of visitors.
saying one last farewell to the professor you're most familiar with, you turn a corner to head out with the plan to call yeosang when you're stopped in your track by a figure suddenly emerging from the walls and now in your way.
when you meet his gaze and take in the fact he's dressed for the occasion, the suit he's wearing clad onto his body too perfectly (though when does he not look good in anything), you almost want to be angry it looks like he planned to come here tonight.
"san..." his name falls off your lips. a name you haven't said since a month ago and didn't plan to any time sooner.
"hey," he greets, awkwardly and quietly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit pants that shows off his legs you didn't even realize were so long.
but you're mostly just thinking and wondering why he's here. he isn't supposed to be here. he left a month ago to go chase his dreams, so why is he all of sudden standing in front of you in such a small gallery.
"w-what are you doing here?" you ask, no anger or pain in your voice though he thinks there should be; only curiosity the way you always sound.
"i promise i'd come, remember?"
“when is it again?” he ask.
“june the 18th,” you say, placing your sketchbook and pen down. “you’ll be there, right?”
he nods at first, a simple smile settling on him. “of course,” he answers, “i’ll be there. i promise.”
he did. but he also left.
you feel you might be going crazy, like this is all a dream and he's only a figment of your imagination because he wouldn't come back just for this. not for you.
"san," you say, a knot on the horizon, "you left. you left a month ago." like you have to remind him of the fact as if speaking to a ghost.
"i know i did..." he hangs his head in shame and you can only stare, the situation so unreal, you wanna try slapping yourself to see if you'll actually wake up. "and i want to apologize for doing so."
such words bringing upon a web of emotions, both you and san still standing smack in the middle of the public gallery and you're trying to keep your composure.
heck, you're still trying to process the fact he's really here.
"can we talk about this outside?" you say, voice soft and timid, alluding to the current scene that san takes a hint to. the walk out the most quiet and awkward as you both try finding some form of seating, settling on a bench not too far from from the entrance.
a couple seconds that feels like an entire minute passes before you start again, san's heartbeat loud and hammering from beside you.
"you don't have to apologize. you went after your heart, why would i be mad about that?" you mumble, but the volume still loud in the quiet night, the air of spring about to be summer soon.
san exhales in preparation, his chest rising and falling to what he knew you were already gonna say because that's just how you are. all of what makes you so likeable and easy to fall for. though right now, he doesn't need forgiveness or even an ounce of your kindness.
he doesn't deserve any of it.
"because i lied to you," he breaks it, straight and clear, and the reminder throwing you back to the month before that you wanted to forget so bad.
you don't wanna cry and you didn't plan to cry tonight but the tears you're currently trying to blink away says otherwise.
"you didn't lie... you just kept things from me," you try justifying, part of it to console your own self. because you'd like to think that though san omitted details, he never said anything that wasn't true.
"and that makes it any better?"
there's a quick, uncomfortable silence before you speak, eyes down on your lap. "i'd like to think so."
it would be a lie if you say you don't think back to that night often. the conversation and then the awful realization in the car that gave you one of the most most awful case of a heartbreak. nothing in comparison to your mother's death, but a different kind for a different lesson.
how, you've tried so hard to not linger because the longer you did, the more sick it made you, creating doubts in your head that you were certain could never be answered because san left.
but you do think about it. if san simply struck up a friendship with you and did everything he did knowing you were exactly the kind he could never develop romantic feelings for.
that the reason he never seemed to really want any of that, or even gave into advances from other girls was only because he was leaving. but if he wasn't, would he have given any of them a chance? would he have given ashley a chance?
but you don't really wanna ask him any of that.
"so, are you visiting, or? what really brings you here?" because you don't believe that he came back just for this. just for you.
he told you leaving was what he always wanted to do, and now he's suddenly back here, and you can't think of any good enough reasons to do so only after a month of being gone.
he takes a deep breath and for the first time after sitting down, you turn and look at him, even if he's avoiding your gaze to look ahead into nothingness.
"you know, i probably moved more in the span of 4 years than you have in your lifetime," he speaks, face in eternal concentration, you just wanna listen. "i don't know. it's complicated i guess... but it was difficult to really feel like i belonged anywhere." he shrugs, the same time the bittersweet smile at the corner of his lips is visible.
"wasn't ever that close to my family members and i try to not stick with the same people for too long. ashley and especially wooyoung were just more persistent than your average person." he pauses, then continues almost hesistantly, "because i knew if i did, i'd end up hurting them."
and how funny and hypocritical of him because you're the person he ended up hurting the most. the one he completely shut out and gave no closure to, because he didn't think he'd grow so attached to you in the matter of just a year.
"but that's just how it works, right? there are things you have to sacrifice in order to find happiness," you say, at this point still trying to excuse his actions although you still remember feeling hurt and betrayed not that long ago.
"but i wasn't happy over there." he squeezes his eyes shut and his lips curl together in frustration, as if trying to get through you because you're failing to understand the point. "i came back because i was the happiest while i was here. i came back for you."
he knows it's selfish. how beyond hurt you must've felt when he left, and now all of a sudden showing up asking for a chance, the turmoil of mixed emotions you're probably going through at the confession.
just a month ago, he literally ghosted you. and just a few months before that, he made you think he was gonna kiss you... when it was not kissing you that he had a hard time with.
he wanted it be as quick and painless as possible, and kissing you was only gonna do the complete opposite. if he kissed you, he would've wanted to stay. but given how everything turned out, he should've just not pushed the friendship at all.
should've never texted you, never invited you out, and he especially should've never talked to you to start with. but again, he's a bit selfish by nature and couldn't help but to be intrigued by you when he shouldn't have.
but he especially shouldn't have opened the door to wooyoung that night of the graduation, still able to recall the exact outfit he was wearing as the boy glared at him with a certain look of disapproval before he could even say a word.
"y/n asked me to give you this," wooyoung says, sounding tired from the day or maybe he's still just mad at san and doesn't really wanna talk.
san sighs and hesistantly takes the pink envelope, wooyoung's gaze burning into his before the boy says his final farewell.
"you know, you're really an asshole."
and it was almost like wooyoung showed up at 1 in the morning after a long day just to give it to san out of spite in hope he'll feel guilty, and it worked.
because the content in it played a big part in san ultimately deciding to come back, the sketch of him that day in the cafe with his grey hoodie watching the petal shower along with a short note attached to it haunting him day and night.
Because of you, I had one of the best years of my life. I hope things are better in Seoul, and thank you truly for being the greatest inspiration - y/n
so he came back for you, and he means it... though you don't look like you believe it the slightest and he doesn't blame you. he's done nothing but fed you doubts.
he hears a hard swallow from you that he finally turns to, your eyes glossy and lashes fluttering to hide it.
"san, you shouldn't be saying things like that. you know how i feel about you," you say, sniffing due to a clogged nose because you're not doing very good at not crying.
san's scooted next to you, his leg brushing yours and hands on your jaw as you look up at him, never this close or intimate before, butterflies in your stomach that you wish wasn't there.
"it's true. i mean every word of it. i've liked you for so long, you have no idea."
he's not sure when he started liking you, his guess is probably during the summer trip. but he remembers looking forward to your texts and thinking how pretty you are and how he wanted to get closer to you, even if he shouldn't have.
"then why did you leave?" you ask, your eyes vulnerable and lips pouting that he wanna kiss and soothe.
you understand him chasing his dreams, but if he liked you; if he came back afterall, why did he leave in the first place?
"because i'm not used to staying in one place for too long." his thumbs drawing circles and tending to your cheeks. "i want to travel. i want to see the rest of the world... find a purpose in life and see what else is out there waiting for me."
you open your mouth to say something but it's like he already knew, cutting you off before you could even start doubting again, "i don't see it as having to make sacrifices in order to find happiness, more so just putting it off for the time being. the rest of the world can wait because right now, i want to be happy with you."
he can still be happy with you and achieve his other dreams when the time is right. he don't wanna have to choose one or the other when he can make both work with efforts.
"so you don't have to think about it now, but when you do, i just want you to know i like you. really really like you, and i'd love to give it a shot if you're willing. only when you're ready, of course."
and yes, the man quite literally ghosted you and broke your heart in such a short amount of notice, you could barely process it at the time. but you also can't deny the way he makes you feel.
how, whenever he's near, your stomach still feels funny and your heart wanna do flips. and with him this close, you definitely still wanna kiss him.
it's not possible to get over such a man in just a month, but you were healing slowly and ready to accept the fact you won't ever see him again. and then he comes back and is inches away from your face, telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear.
the sudden sound of your phone going off at a notification makes the both of you jump as san pulls away and clears his throat.
you quickly search your purse for your phone and see a text from yeosang on the screen.
yeosang: u ready?
"it's yeosang,'' you tell san, locking eyes with him briefly and awkwardly. "he wants to know if i'm ready to be picked up."
san nods, the air going quiet until an idea comes over. "i can take you." and when you don't answer, he tries testing if he can lighten the atmosphere even if just a bit. "i am renting the car so just don't make a mess."
but when the silence drags on and san can't read your expression, he thinks you don't want anything to do with him at this point, and rightfully so.
"yes," you say, the response picking san's head up to see a small smile you're trying to fight, "yes we can give it a try, and yes, you can give me a ride."
there's something shy but also daring in your tone, san sees the blush raising to your cheeks that brings out the widest smile from him, jumping in your arms to give you the biggest hug.
when he finally pulls away, the look of surprise on your face has him apologizing but you only shake your head with a smile.
"thank you," he whispers, "for giving me the chance. i promise i'll make it up to you."
you nod to his words, the smile still on your lips but unable to say anything due to the overwhelming (good) feelings.
then he goes to scratch the back of his head, a look of awkward and hesitant crossing him before finally saying it, "can i uh, can i kiss you?"
"yes," you actually answer, a giggle that cannot be contained leaving shortly.
and when he does kiss you, his lips just as soft and gentle as you imagined, the kiss even better than you had in your head, you're glad that your friend's instinct was right.
that san does indeed like you and everything he did wasn't just out of kindness and respect.
when you're both pulling away and indulging in a fit of laughter after and shaking your heads at the turn of events, you know he kissed you because it's something he wanted. because he thinks you might be the one.
when the blooming of flowers and trees are fading, along with the soft, gentle breeze of spring that finally passes, you're still in love with san and you're sure he feels the same way.
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sunshineyuyu ¡ 25 days ago
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gravitational attraction (k. ys)
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★ summary: you’re taking intro to physics late as an upperclassman, but thankfully there’s another student in the same predicament–kang yeosang. the two of you end up as lab partners, and as the semester goes on, you become friends and maybe something more. ★ pairing: yeosang x gn!reader ★ genre: college, fluff ★ word count: 3.4k ★ tags/warnings:  college soccer player!yeosang, no y/n, physics lab partners to lovers, intentionally lowercase, platonic (or is it?) bed sharing/cuddling, this is all fluff :3 ★ notes: i know yeosang is actually really smart he'd probably be helping ME with physics in reality ! as always, beta'd by @starhwas-bunny ♡ ★ masterlist | read on ao3
you meet him during your first physics lab.
you’re a junior sitting in a class of mostly freshmen, all buzzing with that excited hum of making it through their first syllabus week. while you click your pen aimlessly, you think about the several ways you could’ve avoided taking introductory physics this semester: you could’ve manned the fuck up and gotten it out of the way freshman year, but you’d been scared off after doing poorly in high school; you could’ve taken it sophomore year, but that you would’ve had to take physics and linear algebra in the same semester; you could’ve switched your major entirely!
but unfortunately, you’re not sitting in the quad with your friends, leisurely throwing a frisbee while nursing a cold beer. instead you’re sat at a lab station, waiting for the teaching assistant to give instructions, and cursing yourself for arbitrarily choosing 2:30-5:30 on fridays as your designated weekly lab time.
you glance around, noticing how the other lab stations are filled with at least 2 people already, most of them chatting quietly. it’s not that you mind working alone―in fact you usually prefer it―but you’re shit at physics and you’re hoping for a budding astrophysicist to choose you as their lab partner.
instead, right at the moment that the TA clears his throat to introduce himself, the door into the lab creaks open and a chocolate-haired boy steps inside, calmly but a little breathlessly. he pinpoints the only seat still available (the one next to yours) and makes his way over. he moves with a kind of shamelessness that tells you he’s definitely not a freshman.
he’s lowkey jacked, you notice as he sits down beside you. his shoulders are solid and prominent, and you can see his biceps flex as he grabs a pencil out of his backpack. his hair falls over his forehead and just barely into his eyes, but he runs a hand through it to sift it out of the way. he’s attractive, your brain supplies uselessly.
right next to physics in your mental shelf of things you’re bad at is talking to pretty boys.
and oh, he is very pretty.
over the next hour, you learn that although your lab partner is quite beautiful, he’s also quite dumb. as nervous as you’d been about physics lab, this first one is simple enough, and you end up having to coach the boy sitting next to you through basic kinematics.
“thanks,” he says, scratching the side of his neck with the back of his pen. “i missed a couple lectures.”
“it’s the first week,” you say. “you’re already skipping classes?”
“the season just started and my sleep schedule is still a little wack,” he winces. you don’t blame him though―lecture for this class is at 8 am.
“season?” you say.
“soccer,” he says.
“oh,” you say. “that’s why you’re so…” you break off before you accidentally tell him that he’s jacked to his face.
he just hums in response.
thankfully, the two of you manage to finish the lab in less than two hours, and you note with a decent amount of satisfaction that there’s at least five other groups still working. you scribble your name at the top of your lab report, before trading to fill in your name on his sheet.
you glance over at his name.
kang yeosang, it reads. his handwriting is neat and thin.
“uh, so see you next week?” he says, as you exit the classroom together.
“yeah,” you say.
⋆⋆⋆
it takes fifteen minutes for the two of you to find the study room, which cuts into the two hours you’d reserved the room for. you’ve worked up a sweat while frantically walking around the third floor of the library, from both embarrassment and the presence of yeosang, who hovers over your shoulder as you lead him on a wild goose chase. you finally unlock the room and walk inside, only to be met with a whiteboard covered in phallic drawings and a questionable stain on the chair you happen to choose.
while you wrinkle your nose at the stain and tug on the hem of your shorts so that you can avoid any direct skin contact with it, yeosang settles into his chair and begins taking out his laptop and notebook. 
“how many problems did you get done?” you ask, mirroring his actions with your own things.
“bold of you to assume i started,” he says without a note of shame. he lays out his notebook and pen and calculator and looks up at you expectantly.
“yeo-sang,” you say. “it’s due tomorrow!”
“tomorrow at 11:59 pm,” he says. “that means i have all of tonight and all of tomorrow.” he pauses while you finish pulling up the assignment on your browser. “and i have you to help me.” he smiles at you smugly.
“bold of you to assume i’ll help you,” you retort.
he pouts, which creates an interesting contrast against his strong, muscly college-athlete figure.
“at least try every problem before i give you the answer,” you mumble, because you could never refuse kang yeosang. you cross your arms across your chest, but yeosang is smiling again. “you know if you don’t actually do the homework you’re not going to do well on the exams.”
yeosang hums in response, and you sigh.
over the next half hour, you walk him through the first few problems that you’d managed to finish relatively easily. he honestly picks up material faster than you give him credit for, and he’s never shy to ask even the dumbest questions. as you draw out a free body diagram to explain a question on potential vs. kinetic energy, a shiver runs through your spine. while the blasting ac had been welcome at first, you’ve always been sensitive to the cold, and your body is starting to reject the cool breeze. you can feel goosebumps on your arms, and your legs shake slightly.
of course yeosang notices.
“are you cold?” he asks.
“it’s one of my things,” you say, teeth chattering and waving a hand to brush his concern away. “i’m always cold and i cry at everything.”
“i’ve never seen you cry,” he says.
“hmm,” you say. “i cried during the midterm.”
he narrows his eyes. “you got an 84.”
“i thought i failed!” you say. “anyway.” you turn back to the diagram, adding extra arrows and labels. “so do you see how the potential energy becomes―”
“here.” yeosang shoves something at you, navy blue and soft. you blink at it until he unfurls it for you. it’s a hoodie. an official university athletics branded hoodie. 
“i’m fine!” you say, and with the rush of heat in your face from kang yeosang offering you a jacket, you honestly don’t feel the chill anymore.
“it probably smells kinda bad but―here, take it. you’re shivering.” a light pink dusts his cheeks, and he avoids your gaze. to save him the embarrassment, you take the hoodie from him. you stare at it in your hands, before finally pulling it over your head.
it’s so soft and warm, and you almost immediately feel your body temperature evening out. 
“thanks,” you say softly, burrowing into the neck of the hoodie. it does smell a little interesting―cologne and aftershave trying their hardest to mask the smell of sweat. but you don’t mind, because it smells like yeosang.
“not a big deal,” he mutters.
the two of you keep working on the homework for the next hour, and you manage to finish 13 out of the 15 questions. the last two are the hardest and longest, and it’s already nearing the end of your reservation for the study room.
yeosang yawns and rubs the heel of his palm into his eye.
“i can ask ryujin for help,” you say, knowing that yeosang’s strict athlete’s schedule means he should already be in bed by now. “and we can work on the last two problems tomorrow?”
“sounds good,” yeosang says. “i’m so tired.”
you pack up in silence. the two of you manage to find the elevators without much hassle, and the ride is likewise quiet, punctuated by yeosang’s occasional yawns. you stare at your hazy reflections in the elevator doors, eyes running over how his hoodie sits on your figure. you hate how much you like it.
you return the key for the study room to the front desk, and you walk out of the library together.
“i’m heading this way,” you say, gesturing in the opposite direction of the parking lot. “gotta meet up with ryujin to get that help.”
“thanks, again,” yeosang says. “i owe you.”
“good night, yeosang,” you say.
“see you tomorrow!” he calls, yawning again and turning to trudge away to his car.
he doesn’t ask for the hoodie back, and you nestle into it even thought it’s warm outside.
later, while you brush your teeth, sleeplily getting ready for bed, you catch a glimpse of white text in the mirror and you contort yourself to read the back of the hoodie. in thick square text is his last name kang and his number 8. you flush, realizing that you’re not only wearing his hoodie, you’re wearing his name and number.
⋆⋆⋆
you brush pale green crumbs off of your practice exam, scowling at yeosang seated next to you, munching contently on a stick of matcha pocky.
“stop making such a mess!” you complain, sending your shoulder into his to give you some space while you read over the last free response question.
“i don’t get this at all,” he says, peering at the question too. “i’m totally gonna fail this midterm.” he groans and drapes himself over the back of his chair, letting his head hang back dramatically in despair.
“with that attitude, yeah,” you say. you rummage with the foil packet of pocky, finding it disappointingly empty. “did you seriously finish all of the pocky? that was my last bag!”
his head swings back up to give you a sheepish grin.
“you owe me,” you mutter, reaching over the desk to swipe his still unfinished bottle of calpico. he doesn’t fight you, but watches quietly as you unscrew the cap and take a deep drink of the thing.
“there,” you say. “we’re even. actually―” 
you tilt your head back and raise the calpico to your lips, draining the bottle.
“there,” you say, slamming the now empty bottle onto your notebook with a satisfying plastic crunch. “now we’re even.”
“you didn’t waterfall,” yeosang chooses to comment. you whip around to stare at him.
“so what? do you have cooties?”
he hums instead and tugs the practice exam out from under your hand.
“so you’re totally gonna have to walk me through this whole problem.”
the sun sets, and the natural light seeping in from your large windows fades from white to orange to red to nothing. in the thirty minutes since the room has plunged into semi-darkness, neither of you have gotten up to turn on your ceiling light. instead the two of you sit crouched over your desk, illuminated by your desk light and the rotating rainbow colors from the LED lights that wrap around your walls.
“i’m going to fall asleep,” yeosang finally announces, throwing down his pen and collapsing over the desk, eyes shutting and forehead thumping against the wood.
“we still have three practice problems!” you say, nudging at his shoulder. it’s surprisingly taut under your finger, and you flush thinking about the amount of muscle packed into his body.
“i’m too tired,” he whines, muffled.
you consider his statement.
“why don’t you take a power nap?” you suggest. “chaeyoung does it all the time. she takes, like, fifteen minute power naps and feels loads better and just keeps studying.”
yeosang perches his chin on the desktop, peering at you through half-lidded eyes.
“how does that even work?” he says. “i don’t think fifteen minutes is enough.”
you shrug.
“she sent me an article once.” you begin pushing him towards your bed. “i think there’s science behind it. just―nap. i’ll finish the problem we’re on and then we can switch for the next one.”
it’s a testament to his fatigue that you’re able to maneuver him out of his chair and onto the bed behind you. you think vaguely of a different context for you to be pushing him onto your bed, but you dismiss those thoughts quickly. your biggest concern right now is making it through this practice exam, especially when one of your friends had mentioned how much the professors like to reuse old exam questions. and you aren’t going to do it alone. after you’d helped yeosang through the last five homework assignements, he’d promised that he’d work through the practice exams with you, and you aren’t about to let him flake on you when it’s only 11:30 pm.
“fifteen minutes,” you say, setting the timer on your phone and showing it to him.
he’s already made himself at home on your bed, wrapping himself in your soft blanket and grabbing your favorite cat plush to sandwich between his arms.
“don’t squeeze her like that,” you complain.
“shhh,” he says. “don’t make me waste my fifteen minutes.”
you huff, but you drop it, heading back to your desk to decipher the question you’d left half-finished. 
five minutes later, yeosang’s soft snores are the soundtrack to your struggles through the next problem. you’re tempted to check the answer key, but after preaching to yeosang the consequences of just looking up answers without doing the work, you’re caught in your own high standards.
eventually, your phone chimes to indicate that fifteen minutes are up. you swivel around in your chair, intent on tormenting yeosang but you find him still sound asleep, snuggled deeper into your bed. he’s tucked your plushie under his chin, his grip looser around the stuffed animal’s round body. vaguely, you think you might be a little jealous of that inanimate object.
you’re so fucked, you think numbly, evaluating the situation.
you have a midterm in two days, and a slumbering hot athlete in your bed.
why on earth did you think convincing yeosang to take a nap in your bed would be a good idea?
you shut off the alarm when it becomes clear that nothing will rouse yeosang from his slumber. you figure he needs his sleep, and you’ll wake him up when you finish the practice exam.
an hour later, yeosang’s still sound asleep and at the rate your yawns keep increasing in frequency and length, you’re heading in the same direction.
you’ve managed to finish two out of the last three questions, but the final problem is so convoluted and scary that you betray your own principles to just copy off of the answer key. 
you clean up your desk and shut off the desk light, shuffling towards your bed. you poke and prod and whine at yeosang to wake him up.
“yeosang,” you say, focusing your attacks on his shoulders. it’s the one area of his body you allow yourself to touch. anywhere lower and you think that you’ll be picturing exactly what is beneath your hand, and anywhere near his face will make you want to kiss him stupid.
“yeosang. yeosang. yeosang,” you chant. “wake. up. stupid.”
he finally stirs, shifting onto his back and exposing a small circle of darkened fabric on the pillow case where his mouth had been seconds before.
“you drooled on my pillow!” you shriek.
“shhh,” he mumbles. “i’m sleeping.” his voice is deeper, shrouded in sleep, and oh, it sends a tingle down your spine.
“no!” you say. “you’re leaving. go home. i finished the practice exam so i’ll just go over it with you tomorrow. you owe me big time.”
“but it’s so comfy,” he says, his eyes still shut and voice still husky. “my bed isn’t this nice.”
“it’s memory foam,” you mutter.
“mmm,” he says, and then suddenly you feel a hand, a large and warm hand wrapping around your waist and tugging you down. you tumble onto yeosang, face positively on fire as your hands go out to catch yourself and oh―
your cheek is pressed up against his chest―his very firm chest―and your hands are grazing the sides of his equally firm abdomen.
“hm this is nice,” he says, the arm around your waist tightening. you feel his chin brush against the crown of your head. 
“go home, yeosang,” you say, but without any of the conviction you’d had before. you’re cuddled up against your insanely attractive crush, and even you understand the need to take advantage of situations handed to you on a platter.
“nah,” he says. “too tired to move.”
you laugh quietly into his body.
“at least let me get under the covers.”
⋆⋆⋆
he confesses under the illumination of the numerous string lights strung along the porch of your favorite burger joint. it’s a chilly december night, and yet you’d been craving a birthday cake milkshake, and like always, yeosang had obliged.
“you know i like you, right?” he says, licking at the bit of pink shake dripping over the edge of his cup.
you freeze, quite literally, since you have always been sensitive to the cold. the milkshake hits your head in a splitting brain freeze, just as a particularly strong breeze ruffles through your hair.
“huh?” you manage.
“i like you,” yeosang continues, casually. he’s taken off the plastic cover of his shake and he’s digging at the shake with a spoon. “i feel like i’ve been pretty obvious about it, but i figured it was about time i confess for real.” he takes a spoonful of his strawberry shake into his mouth, savors it and then swallows. “especially since you’re going home soon so i won’t be able to see you in person for, like, a month.”
he hums around another spoonful of milkshake, while you nearly drop yours in surprise. your mind moves in fast forward until suddenly it cuts to complete emptiness. you stare at yeosang, mouth agape and head absolutely empty, no thoughts.
“what?” you shriek.
this causes an actual reaction in him. he jumps a little and turns to you, eyes slightly wider and spoon hanging out of his mouth.
“you like me?” you say, voice shrill.
“yeah,” he says, a little incredulously. “i thought you knew?”
“i- you- you thought i knew?” you say.
“it was obvious?” yeosang says.
“how was it obvious?” you ask.
“i dunno,” he says. “like i gave you my hoodie. isn’t that a thing boyfriends do? and i tease you all the time? and i slept over. we cuddled.”
“that- it- it wasn’t- it was purely platonic!” you hiss, ripping off your thick scarf so the cold can combat the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your forehead.
“oh,” he says. “so does that mean you don’t like me back?” he peers at you, almost void of emotion, still sucking on that stupid spoon.
“what makes you think that?” you say, breathless now.
“you said the cuddling was platonic,” he says.
“that’s- that’s because i didn’t know how you felt,” you say.
“and now you do,” he says.
“and now i do,” you parrot.
“and?” he prods.
“and―” you gulp. “―and i like you, too.”
“hmm,” he hums. “good.” he’s smiling now, this stupid shit-eating grin that you’ve only ever seen a handful of times. yeosang’s not one for big expressions, but this―
this is how you know he’s not joking with you.
“good?” you repeat faintly.
“yeah,” he says, setting down his milkshake and spoon onto the table. “so, can i be your boyfriend?”
“boyfriend?” you say.
“i thought i was the dumb one in this relationship,” he says.
“relationship?”
“seriously?” he sighs. “alright, how about this.”
he surges forward then, hands cupping your jaw. his lips slot over yours and suddenly you’re kissing kang yeosang. closed mouth, but substantial, and oh his lips are so soft.
yeosang pulls back, but his hands stay on your face, thumbs rubbing circles into your cold and slightly numb cheeks.
“oh,” you say.
“yeah,” he laughs. “you get it now?”
“yeah,” you say. “yeah―you can be my boyfriend.”
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humansofnewyork ¡ 7 months ago
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“People see it as a fake sport. Whenever you tell someone you play Ultimate, it’s like: oh, is that where you throw a frisbee in a basket? Or is that the one where you throw it to a dog? Whenever I’m talking to someone about it, I just hope they’ll ask me enough questions so that I can talk about UNC Ultimate. That was probably the most special experience I'm ever going to have in my whole life. I was on the team for five years, then I came back and coached. My freshman year we were really, really bad. But at the moment UNC Chapel Hill is triple back-to-back-to-back national champions. And I got to be part of that trajectory. But even though the team kept getting better and better, I kinda stayed at the same level. I never became the elite player that I wanted to be. I have a lot of ‘stick-to-it-ive-ness.’ I’m capable of working really, really hard. And part of me always believed that would be enough, which is the part that burned me out. Because after working so hard, for so long, I reached a plateau. It was physical stuff. I'm just not quick enough. When I play defense I can’t keep up with the fastest offensive handlers. They're going to score, and that's a problem. I ended up getting cut from the elite women’s club team I was on. I switched over to mixed, but ended up tearing my ACL a couple years ago. It’s been my life for ten years, but now I’m at a place where I don't know if I'm ever going to play again. I just don’t know if my body can handle it. I don't want to have another, like massive orthopedic surgery. And frisbee takes up so much bandwidth; there’s so many other things I want to explore. The list is infinitely long. I’m asking myself: could I be happy playing on a mid-level team where the commitment wouldn't be quite as high? Or will I only feel satisfied if I'm exceptional? That’s an unhealthy connection I have in my head, I think. That love is something you need to earn. And being exceptional will make me worthy of having connections with people. It would be great to become a version of myself where I no longer feel that way. And maybe we'll get there someday. We’re working on it. In the meantime, at least I got to talk about UNC Ultimate.”
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joequiinn ¡ 10 months ago
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 3
[chap two] | [all chapters here] | [chap four]
Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
Warnings & Notes | fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
Author's Note | The response to this series has already been so wonderful and unexpected, so big thanks to everyone who's been hyping me up! The next couple parts of this story have kinda a mellow pace, but I'm literally such a long-winded person so idk how to write without adding a tooon of narrative meat lol. Nonetheless, hope everyone enjoys!
Taglist | @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @rach5ive @sav12321 @steeldaisies
WC | 3.5k
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Chapter Three
Arriving at school on Monday morning, you had almost forgotten about your little meeting with Eddie the day prior. It was such an odd and different encounter that it briefly slipped away from you - after all, it wasn’t everyday you asked someone to be your fake boyfriend. But once you arrived on campus, the sight of Eddie’s van at the far end of the parking lot brought the conversation back to you, making your heart jump in remembrance.
And suddenly, you were nervous. This plan was ridiculous and there were so many damn opportunities for it to go wrong, so many damn holes that could be poked in it. You’d give Eddie a piece of your mind if he managed to fuck this up.
Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you at your locker, your customary meeting spot since freshman year. Whether intentional or not, you knew you were the pseudo-center of the group - you were certainly not the leader, that was Amelia and her brash personality, but it always seemed as if you were the swing vote, the middle ground, the deciding factor. Janet was the most agreeable of you three, generally avoiding confrontation and trying to maintain the peace as best she could amongst your crowd - you figured it was because of her strict upbringing.
As you approached the duo, you felt the conflicting comfort of familiarity butting heads with the frustrated part of you that didn’t want to see them ever again, the part of you that just wanted to run from them. Being a teenager was complicated in that way - as much as you cared about these girls, you also wanted absolutely nothing to do with them anymore.
Amelia and Janet were huddled together, sharing a magazine and excitedly talking about whatever it was that they were reading. Probably some insignificant article about the latest fashion trends of fall (which you secretly were interested in knowing, but you didn’t need to tell them that). Eventually, they heard the close click of your shoes on the linoleum floor, causing Amelia looking up to greet you as Janet continued to skim the page.
“So, feeling old yet?” Amelia teased, leaning back against the locker next to yours as you put in your code.
“Incredibly.” You answered dryly, although there was at least a hint of humor in your tone. It’s not as if you could completely cut them off overnight, that would be an impossible task to ask of anyone.
They both laughed, Janet putting away her magazine while Amelia leaned over your shoulder to check her makeup in the mirror you kept inside your locker. You nudged her out of your way once you had the book that you were looking for, giving her a harsh look out of the corner of your eye.
You knew that, although not perfect, Amelia and Janet weren’t so bad that you needed to be this cold to them - yes, Amelia was unapologetically abrasive and Janet was too agreeably submissive, but you still felt that your attitude towards them was maybe a little unwarranted. But at the same time, your heart and your mind weren’t on the same page. Your head said that they weren’t as bad as you made them out to be, but you could just feel that this friendship was no longer working, that something about it was terribly off and couldn’t be corrected.
As the two began discussing an assignment from a class that they shared, you mulled over your thoughts and feelings about this slowly ending friendship. Neither seemed to notice that you weren’t mentally present to their conversation, that you were somewhere in your own head instead.
After a short while, a duo of football players that you were somewhat familiar with came over to join the conversation. One of them was blatantly flirting with Janet, who seemed absolutely smitten, while the other served as wingman, trying to keep both you and Amelia engaged in conversation. You gave him the coldest shoulder he’d ever encountered, quickly turning all of his attention to Amelia instead.
Paying little to no attention to the group’s conversations, you began to look up and down the hallway absentmindedly, the myriad of conversations drowning each other out, making it easy for your mind to wander. If the group noticed your inattentiveness, they didn’t bring it up. You could have, and maybe should have, just walked away, but you weren’t sure where you’d wander off to until it was time to head to class. You’d have to find a way to get everyone to stop treating your locker like the go-to hang out spot at 7:30 in the damn morning.
As your eyes continued to wander, brain zoned out, your gaze passed over a small cluster of boys about ten feet away. Normally, they wouldn’t have crossed your mind, but today you had to do a double take, realizing that amongst them was Eddie. A friend of his had a locker not far from yours, you remembered at that moment, but it had never mattered before. But it sure mattered now, because you realized Eddie was looking right at you and probably had been for a couple of minutes, just waiting with amusement for you to come out of your reverie and finally noticed his stare. Once you two made eye contact, he smirked and shot you a playful wink.
Despite yourself, it flustered you just a little. You blinked and looked down in surprise, but mentally kicked yourself for the reaction - you could not let Eddie Munson make you nervous, especially when you weren’t actually interested in him in the slightest. You were simply taken aback, you reasoned with yourself, unprepared for the almost genuinely charming look on his face. So, you took a breath, looking back up to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on you. Was this going to be his flirting tactic? If so, it was pathetic, and you hoped that the look on your face told him as much.
You stared at one another for a few long moments, silently challenging each other, testing to see who would do something first. Eventually, Eddie pointed to the corners of his mouth, dragging his fingers up his cheeks while smiling aggressively wide and crossing his eyes as if to make a point, to visually tell you to at least act interested in him. You refrained from rolling your eyes - as challenging as it was - and forced a flirtatious smirk onto your lips, hoping your eyes weren’t saying something your face wasn’t. You weren’t exactly one to put on false airs, so you hoped that you were convincing to anyone that might see you.
Amelia, Janet, and the boys seemed to forget you were there, considering you hadn’t been engaging in the conversation this entire time. But eventually they must have expected you to chime in on something that was said, as they all looked at you expectantly when you didn’t reply right away. Seeing your eyes elsewhere and a hint of a smile on your lips, their brows furrowed and they quickly looked over their shoulders. It was simultaneously exciting and embarrassing to know that they would spot who exactly you were making eyes at.
They didn’t immediately realize it was Eddie that you were looking at, their eyes searching for maybe a familiar acquaintance or someone more stereotypically attractive, someone more to their liking. But then Eddie turned his gaze to them, winking as his grin widened before his eyes returned to you. In the same breath, Amelia and Janet whipped back around to face you with bewilderment while the football players shared a look of confused, judgmental annoyance.
“Don’t tell me you’re making eyes at Munson,” Janet started in disbelief.
“Yeah, what gives?” Amelia chimed in, taking a small step closer to you as if to avoid having the conversation overheard, making it seem like the most dire thing in the world.
You shrug, eyes still trained on Eddie for a moment longer as you tried to hold back your amusement at everyone’s reactions. You were proud that you seemed to actually appear interested, if their reactions were anything to go on.
“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”
It appeared that your tone was also as convincing as you were hoping for, because both girls pulled faces at your reply. The football players lingered awkwardly, but didn’t dare chime in on the conversation; after another few tense moments, they said their goodbyes and disappeared quickly down the hall.
Janet dared to briefly look over her shoulder at Eddie again, who now appeared to be in conversation with his friends. But it’s as if he knew he was being watched again, because his eyes immediately flicked up, a grin teasing at his lips as he met Janet’s gaze. She quickly turned away from him as a surprised sound escaped her lips.
Amelia simply made a sound of distaste, her eyes locked on you, “Ew,” She started, “in what world is that freak cute?”
“He is pretty weird…” Janet added, her tone not nearly as harsh as Amelia’s, although you could nonetheless hear her obvious trepidation.
You roll your eyes, a harsh and mocking look on your face, “Jan, you think Anthony Michael Hall is cute.”
Your tone is a touch nasty, and you can see Amelia smirking at the jab despite herself - she and you were in agreement that said actor was not attractive.
“He is!” Janet insisted, looking between you both, “You guys saw Sixteen Candles too.”
“Yeah, and he was a total geek in it.” Amelia responded, a harsh smirk on her lips.
Your gaze drifted back to Eddie, who had finally looked away for a few moments as he conversed with his little gang of nerds. Choosing defiance, you decided to antagonize your friends a little, a mean smirk ghosting over your lips.
“Eddie’s cuter than Anthony Michael Hall, that’s for damn sure.” It felt so wrong to say his name and not just refer to him as “Munson” or “the freak,” but you figured it would make a stronger impact on them if you used his first name.
Both Amelia and Janet made offended sounds in unison, their expressions critical.
“You feeling okay?” Amelia asked, not with concern, but rather with judgment, “I didn’t think the break-up was that hard on you.”
Frustration flared up inside you at that remark - that felt like a personal jab even by Amelia standards. You couldn’t help the sharp look you flashed at her, eyes narrowing, “It wasn’t. Duncan doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”
As if compelled to confrontation, Amelia couldn’t help but respond in disbelief, “Sure, whatever you say. Munson’s a pretty pathetic excuse for a rebound, though. You could do better.”
You were so damn tempted to continue arguing with her, as you were never one to back down, but seeing motion in Eddie’s direction stopped you from saying anything. Your eyes flicked up to watch as he and his friends started to walk down the hall, coming in your direction. As the group passed you, Eddie came to a halt, taking an exaggerated bow, his eyes locked on yours almost as if he knew what was going on.
“Ladies…” He taunted with a glint in his eyes. As he straightened back up, he looked between the three of you, a goofy smile plastered on his face. As he walked away, he gave you one final, obvious wink.
“Ugh, what a creep…” Janet said while you watched Eddie disappear down the hall. Realizing the time, you abruptly walked off without saying goodbye to either Amelia or Janet. 
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Aside from briefly saying ‘hello’ to one another in math class, you didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day; and even something as simple as that greeting turned the heads of a few of your classmates. Sure, you may have passed each other in the hall or spotted one another at lunch, but otherwise your schedules didn’t seem to allow for much of each other. That’s something you two would have to figure out once you got deeper into this little scheme of yours.
As your day ended and you made the drive to the ice skating rink, you pondered how exactly you and Eddie would pull this off. Should you be more up front, more assertive? Or should you let Eddie take the reins on that? How quickly should you move things along? Would you really keep this going until graduation? It seemed that you needed to find some time to discuss all these finer details with Eddie, and soon, or else your cover would definitely be blown.
Come Tuesday, your morning started off differently than you expected. As you walked up to the front doors of the school, Eddie seemed to appear out of thin air, slinking up alongside you. Before you realized who it was, you were about ready to tell them to back the hell up, but you caught the words on your tongue once you realized it was him. The sight of Eddie took you by surprise, your face inevitably saying so, as he shot you a playful grin in response.
“Morning, princess,” He greeted, bumping you with his shoulder. Despite wanting to glare at him and his insistence on breaking the oh-so-holy fake dating rules, you held back, instead giving him what you hoped was a coy look.
“Munson,” You answered simply, feeling strange having a conversation with him in the middle of all your peers, all out in the open like this. When you reached the front doors, Eddie held one open for you, which was a pleasant surprise. Once you’d both entered, Eddie remained at your side, a simple look of contentment on his face as you asked dryly, “What grand gestures do you plan to do today?”
“Oh, I’m going to sweep you off your feet,” He begins playfully, seeming to enjoy the occasional glances shot at the two of you, “You’ll be absolutely head over heels by the end of the afternoon.”
You find his humor both mildly amusing and mildly stale, but you nonetheless give him a slight, doubtful smirk, “I’m sure.”
Eddie looked you up and down while cracking another smile; you weren’t sure if he was trying to turn up the charm for show or if he was trying to win you over just a little, “So, when I ask you out, you want a whole show of it? Flowers, balloons, the whole nine yards?”
“Maybe you should drop in from a helicopter, make it really interesting.” You responded coolly. The contrast of your sense of humor versus your monotonous delivery was perhaps a bit jarring and hard for some to get used to, but Eddie nonetheless seemed amused by it.
“So high maintenance.” Eddie chided, to which you gave him a sideways look. You two continued towards your locker, acting as if you didn’t notice people’s glances; you figured Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you, and you definitely wanted to see how they’d react to you and Eddie this morning.
For a few moments, you two walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence, a small reminder that you didn’t actually know each other at all, that this was all make believe. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you as if he were deciding how to best engage with you in this school setting.
“Just looking at you yesterday was enough to set your friends off.” Eddie finally spoke up again as a wide grin spread across his lips, “Should I flirt a little more aggressively? Really get them worked up about it?”
You also couldn’t help but smirk a little - Amelia and Janet’s reactions were better than you could have anticipated, so much more dramatic than you expected. You were still miffed at Amelia thanks to her comment about Duncan, but you were sure that today she’d act as if nothing happened. Or at least, she’d try to, until seeing you with Eddie.
“We keep going at this rate, and Amelia and I might be in a cat fight by the end of the week.” You gave Eddie a wicked smile, which he didn’t expect, but he nonetheless looked back at you with just as much amusement.
“Maybe I need to step it up a little, then,” He responded as you two rounded the corner, your locker just down the hall. You immediately spotted Amelia and Janet there caught up in conversation, oblivious to you watching them from amongst the crowd of other students. You briefly paused as you studied them, Eddie following suit as he looked between you and them, “Should we go pay them a visit?”
You glanced up at Eddie through your lashes, similar fiendish glints in your eyes; you were wondering the exact same thing as him, debating whether to approach them or breeze on by as if they didn’t exist. Both were equally devious, and you momentarily felt pleased that you chose to make Eddie your fake boyfriend for this plan - in some ways, such as this, maybe you two were actually on the same page.
And then, the deciding factor just so happened to be heading in your friends’ direction.
Duncan walked down the hall with a quiet sort of confidence, and you absolutely loathed him for it. A few friends were with him as he stopped to chat with Amelia and Janet, and even from here his relaxed smile made you want to slap him. You hadn’t even realized you were clenching your jaw until Eddie spoke again.
“Get it together and let’s go over there.” He instructed, looking between your eyes and your tight jaw. He leaned forward a little with a wicked grin, “Come on. This is what you wanted me for, right? Let’s go get a reaction outta them.”
You chose to ignore the mild suggestiveness of Eddie's phrasing, although you did briefly narrow your eyes at him - you weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but hate that he was already doing his job well. He had a point, so you put on your best poker face and walked with confidence in the direction of your locker, Eddie right there alongside you. You made an effort to walk closer to him, to convey some kind of comradery, hoping that everyone would buy your bullshit.
Janet, always the most aware of the bunch, spotted you first, her expression shifting with worry. It wasn’t until you were practically on top of the group that the rest of them noticed your arrival, and everyone’s faces fell into various expressions of confusion, annoyance, and loathing. God, they were all so dramatic.
“Excuse me.” You said to one of Duncan’s friends in the bratty tone that most of them were used to, as he was blocking your locker. When he didn’t move right away, your brows shot up in threatening impatience, prompting him to quickly step aside. Eddie’s eyes followed the guy just to make him more uncomfortable as you opened your locker, intentionally letting it swing loudly against the one beside it.
“You lost, Munson?” Duncan questioned in a challenging tone, stepping forward with his gaze trained on Eddie. You turned, prepared to make some quick retort in defense of your fake boyfriend, but he beat you to the punch.
“Do I look lost?” Eddie put on a false look of confusion before a wild grin broke out across his lips. His response caused you to snort out a small laugh, Duncan looking back and forth between you two with skepticism before his eyes finally settled on you.
“Are you serious?” His tone was accusing as he took a step toward you. You kept your face calm and your eyes cold as you rooted around in your locker, hoping that your supposed nonchalance would really get under his skin.
“About what?” You taunted, the corner of your mouth barely pulling up into a smirk. You shut your locker, finally looking Duncan in the face to find him gazing at you with bafflement. The whole group was watching with similar expressions, but you paid them no mind, “This is my locker. If you don’t like what you see, go somewhere else.”
You looked back at Eddie, who seemed to be eating this up, not afraid of showing his amusement plainly across his face. You figured that that was also doing an incredible job of getting under Duncan’s skin.
“Walk me to class?” You prompted with a flirty tone, to which Eddie smiled. It was a look that could have convinced you that he was actually interested if you didn’t know any better.
“Lead the way.” His fingers ever so slightly grazed the small of your back as you walked between him and Duncan, leading him away from the group without looking back at them, as tempting as it was. Eddie followed right behind you, his shoulders nearly brushing yours as you maneuvered through the crowd. Classes hadn’t even started yet, but already you were enjoying this day far too much.
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snowysosturn ¡ 5 months ago
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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 21
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29
Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.
Warnings : THESE WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS!!!! MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of car accident/reader in accident, aftermath of accident, trauma as a result of accident, memory loss, mentions of cheating
Finally get to tell you where the inspo for this fic came from now that it won’t give away any spoilers. (all my Irish girlies stand up 🫡) I’d fully forgotten about this song this song until July, and when I listened to it it sparked the little ideas for me, and that’s how I came up with the main plot <3 I've been going through a break up (which was nearly a 10 year relationship) during the time of writing this so ive poured my heart and souuuuul into this ( i also want to note no themes of the story relate to me maybe only mentally clocking out bc of a bare minimum bf, do not fucking cheat on anyone) . this fic has been my baby and im so thankful to anyone who has read so far <3 p.s if you ever go back and reread this you’ll notice the little pieces of lyrics here and there lol
The world came back to me in fragments - blurred lights, muffled sounds, and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. As I fluttered my eyes open, the harsh brightness of the room made me wince. My head pounded with a dull ache, and my body felt heavy, as if it wasn’t quite mine.
I slowly turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings, and there he was. The man I loved, sitting by my bedside. His face was a mixture of relief and something else, fear, maybe? His eyes met mine, and I felt a flicker of familiarity in the chaos of my mind.
“Alex..” I whispered, my voice weak and strained.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Try not to move too much,” Alex said softly, his hand reaching up to gently stroke my face. His touch was warm, comforting, but something about the way he looked at me sent a ripple of unease through my chest.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely audible, as panic started to rise within me. My thoughts were jumbled, trying to piece together how I ended up here. The last thing I remembered was.. was.. I couldn’t even grasp it.
“You got into an accident” Alex explained, his voice steady, but I could see the worry etched into his features. “But you’re going to be okay. You just need to rest.”
An accident? My mind raced, and instinctively, I tried to move, only to be met with sharp pain that made me gasp. “What about my injuries? When can I skate again? I have qualifiers for the Olympics soon!” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic rush, driven by a fear that I couldn’t quite place.
Alex’s face twisted in confusion, and he hesitated before answering. “Y/n.. you haven’t skated in years.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, refusing to believe what he was saying. “What? No.. that’s not true. I.. I’ve been training. You know that.” My voice quivered with desperation.
Alex exchanged a worried glance with the nurse, then looked back at me, his expression pained. “Y/n, You stopped skating when I was a freshman.. I’m a junior now..”
His words echoed in my head, but they didn’t make any sense. UCLA? Sophomore year? It was as if he was speaking a different language. The last memory I had was waiting anxiously to see if he made the Bruins team, both of us so excited about the possibility of him making it big with football.
“No… no, that’s not right,” I muttered, shaking my head as if it would somehow clear the fog that clouded my thoughts. “Did you get onto the Bruins team?” I asked, clinging to the one thing that made sense to me.
“Y/n..” Alex’s voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of the truth I wasn’t ready to accept. 
The room spun around me, and I felt like I was being thrown into a different universe. Everything was wrong, nothing made sense. My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and I felt like I was drowning in confusion.
The female nurse stepped forward, her expression calm and professional. “Alex, could I speak with you outside for a moment?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Alex squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, his eyes lingering on mine with a look that made my chest tighten. He nodded and followed the nurse out of the room, leaving me alone with the student nurse who had been quietly observing from the side.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, trying to ground myself in something familiar, something stable. “Can someone tell me how long I’ll have to be in here for?” I asked, my voice trembling.
The boy hesitated, looking a bit uncertain. “I’m not too sure, Y/n. We’ll have to wait for one of the staff to give us results first” he said, trying to sound reassuring as he reached out and cupped my hand with his two.
His gesture was kind, but it only added to my confusion. Why was he holding my hand like that? Was he one of those compassionate doctors who went the extra mile for their patients? My mind struggled to make sense of his actions.
“Can’t you ask someone since you work here?” I asked, hoping for some clarity.
He blinked at me, clearly taken aback. “Work here?”
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and the female nurse reentered the room, followed by Alex. There was a heaviness in the air, a sense of something unspoken. The nurse’s eyes met mine, and I could see the concern etched into her features.
“Ms. Y/l/n” she began, her voice gentle yet serious, “I need to explain something to you. After the accident, you sustained a significant concussion, which has led to a form of memory loss known as post-traumatic amnesia..”
“Amnesia?” I whispered, the word foreign and terrifying on my tongue. My gaze darted between her and Alex, hoping for someone to tell me this was all a mistake.
“Yes” she confirmed softly. “From what we can gather, you seem to have lost your recent memories from about two years ago onward. It’s possible that these memories will return with time, but for now, you’re not going to remember much.”
My world shattered with those words. Two years? How could two whole years of my life just be gone? My breath quickened, and the room began to feel smaller, more suffocating. I glanced at Alex, hoping to find some reassurance, but his expression only mirrored my panic.
“Two years?” I asked again, trying to wrap my mind around it. “What happened in those two years? I don’t remember any of it..” My voice trembled as I spoke, my heart sinking deeper into despair.
“That’s okay, Y/n” Alex said, stepping closer to me. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll help you remember.”
But something about the way he said it felt off. There was a tension in his voice that made me uneasy. I looked back at the boy who had been holding my hand, trying to place his face in the context of my life, but nothing came to mind.
“Who.. who are you?” I asked hesitantly, turning my attention to him. His expression faltered, a mixture of pain and something else flashing across his features.
“Y/n, it’s me.. Matt” he said, his voice tinged with a sorrow that cut through me like a knife.
I stared at him “I- I don't know who you are..” I didn’t recognize him. I didn’t remember anything about him. It was as if the two years that had vanished had taken him with them.
Before I could say anything else, the tension in the room exploded.
“Okay man I think it’s time you leave” Alex snapped, his eyes narrowing at Matt, his voice dripping with venom. “You have no right to be here, especially after what you did.”
“What I did?” Matt shot back, his voice rising with anger. “You’re the one who’s been sat here lying to her! You cheated on her, Alex! Don’t you dare act like you care about her now.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My head spun, the room tilting as I tried to process what was happening. Cheated? Alex cheated on me?
“You’re full of shit, Matt” Alex retaliated stepping closer to him, their faces inches apart. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been lying to her this entire time!” Matt shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done? You think she won’t find out? I won’t let you keep doing this to her.”
“Stop it!” I screamed, my voice cutting through their argument like a knife. Tears streamed down my face as the overwhelming stress consumed me. “Just stop! Both of you, get out! Get out!”
The room fell into a stunned silence. Both Matt and Alex turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of shock and regret. But I couldn’t take it anymore. The confusion, this talk of betrayal, the loss of my memory - it was too much. I felt like I was drowning, and I needed them to leave before I lost myself completely.
“Please.. just leave.” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm in its request.
Matt’s face crumpled with pain, but he nodded slowly, backing away toward the door. Alex hesitated, his eyes pleading with me to understand, but I couldn’t even look at him.
One by one, they both left the room, the door closing behind them with a finality that left me feeling utterly alone. The silence that followed was deafening, the emptiness in my heart growing with every passing second.
I collapsed back onto the bed, my body trembling as I sobbed, the weight of everything too much to bear. Two years of my life, gone. The man I thought I loved and a stranger. The man who claimed to love me and a liar. The situation infront of me confused me as to which one was which. The memories I needed to make sense of it all, vanished.
I was lost in a world that no longer felt like my own.
Matt’s POV
I walked out of Y/n’s hospital room, the door clicking shut behind me like a hammer hitting the final nail into a coffin. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline from my argument with Alex still coursing through my veins, but it was nothing compared to the fiery dread settling in my stomach. Every word I’d said to her, every desperate attempt to break through her confusion, seemed to hang in the air like a suffocating fog.
I made my way to the waiting area, my feet heavy, my mind numb. The bright, white lights overhead did nothing to chase away the darkness consuming my thoughts. We approached the row of  cold plastic chairs and Alex sat down, his elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. I could feel the tension radiating off him, but I was too consumed by my own torment to care.
I dropped into a chair two seats away from him, the hard plastic pressing against my back, and let my head fall into my hands. My thoughts spiraled, chaotic and disjointed, but always coming back to one image - the moment she was hit.
The screech of tyres. The blinding headlights. The sickening thud as Y/n’s body crumpled under the car’s impact. I could still hear the scream that tore through me as I watched her fly through the air, time slowing to a crawl, helpless to stop it. It played over and over in my mind, each replay more gut wrenching than the last.
I should’ve been faster. I should’ve told her how I really felt. I should’ve… My fists clenched in my hair as I tried to choke down the guilt that threatened to swallow me whole.
What was I even doing on that balcony? Watching her run out of the house, pacing back and forth. I should’ve gone to her instead of just standing there like an idiot, too lost in my own confusion and pain to act. And then when I saw the car coming down the hill, everything in me froze.
"Y/n, get off the road!!" I had shouted, but my voice felt so small, so powerless against the force of what was about to happen. But it's too late.
In a split second, the beam of headlights blinds her. The screeching of tyres fills the air as the car tries to stop, but the impact is inevitable. I watch in horror as the car hits Y/n. The sound of the collision is deafening, and time seems to slow down.
She’s thrown backward, landing hard on the pavement. I can’t breathe, my legs feel like jelly as I race down the stairs, stumbling and pushing through the crowd.
When I finally reach her, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I kneel beside her, tears streaming down my face as I try to make sense of the horrific scene before me.
Y/n lays there on the ground, her face contorted in pain, her body not moving. The car speeds away into the night, leaving behind a scene of devastation. The people around us have began to scatter, some calling for an ambulance, others standing in shocked silence.
I gently cradle Y/n's head in my lap, my hands shaking uncontrollably. "Y/n, stay with me" I pleaded, my voice choking with emotion. "Please, stay with me."
She blinks slowly, her eyes meeting mine with a look of pain and resignation. I can see the life fading from her, and it feels like my world is collapsing around me.
The sound of sirens grows louder, and I can hear the distant honking of emergency vehicles approaching. I try to stay strong for her, to keep her conscious until help arrives, but my heart is breaking.
"I’m so sorry" I whisper, tears falling freely. "I’m so sorry for everything."
As the ambulance pulls up, paramedics rush to our side, taking over the situation with practiced efficiency. I’m left standing on the sidelines, my heart shattered as I watch them work to save her. I know that nothing will ever be the same again, and the weight of what just happened is almost too much to bear.
Now she was in that hospital bed, her memories shattered along with my heart. She didn’t even recognize me. My face, my voice - nothing. I was just a stranger to her now, a distant memory from a life she couldn’t even recall.
And then there was Alex. The guy she “loved”, the guy who’d betrayed her. He sat there just a few feet away, but it felt like a canyon stretched between us. I knew he was going to see this as an opportunity to weasel his way back into her life. She didn't remember any of it, him cheating, the way he treated her like an option. And now this was his free pass, to get her back like nothing had ever happened. I wanted to punch him, to scream at him for all the lies he’d fed her, for making this even more unbearable than it already was. But what good would that do? None of it would bring her memories back. None of it would undo the damage that had been done.
I glanced sideways at Alex. He was still in the same position, as if he were trapped in his own private hell. Good. He deserved it. But the satisfaction was fleeting, replaced quickly by a wave of exhaustion and despair.
All I could do was sit there, replaying the accident in my head, the look of panic in Y/n’s eyes as she realized what was happening, the way everything went silent just before impact. It was a moment I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life, one that no amount of apologies or explanations could ever make right.
All I wanted was for her to be okay, to wake up and remember me, remember us. But even that hope felt distant now, buried under the weight of the reality we were in.
I let out a shuddering breath, forcing myself to look away from Alex and focus on the dull hum of the hospital around us. Waiting, that’s all we could do now. Wait and hope for a miracle that seemed less likely with each passing second.
The door in front of us opened, and in came Nick, Madi, Chris & Emily. I had gone to the hospital with Y/n in the ambulance, and the paramedics contacted Alex as he was still down as Y/n’s emergency contact. The news of what happened tore through the party fast, but getting out of the place was hard to do so with the amount of emergency services on scene. 
“God Matt is she okay?” Nick asks frantically. 
“She’s awake Nick.. she’ll be okay.. But she doesn’t remember anything.” 
“Oh thank god she's okay, maybe it’s for the best that she doesn't remember the accident happening.” Nick says, trying to make me feel better.
“No, Nick. She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t remember me, she won't remember you, she doesn’t have any memory of the last 2 years at all.” I said, tears outlining my eyes.
Nick stood there with a horrified expression on his face. “You love her don’t you?” Nick whispers, so low that only us can hear.
“More than anything Nick, more than anything I know.”
 “Do you think I could go in and see her?” Nick questions.
“If you want, but she’s stressed out at the minute.. Just try your best not to make anything worse.” I say, as Nick nods at me, getting up to gently knock on the door to Y/n’s room.
I take my eyes off Nick and lock eyes with Emily.
“Can we go outside for a minute for some air?” I asked her, knowing I'm about to have a conversation that I should’ve handled differently nights ago.
a/n: sorry.. again..
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