#the roommates au has me frothing

[lysaisland]

living

“Hey, whatcha doin’ handsome?” You crooned from behind him — the sound light, with a touch of sleep.

Bakugo peered in your direction, gaze half-lidded, and a slight off-guard. Maybe, he was still groggy with sleep; he usually noticed these things, especially if things were to do with you. Though, lately, there were not many things going on in his life that he cared for. You were all that he could focus on these days.

The way you would always say ‘good morning gorgeous‘ whenever you saw him, never left his mind. It lurked. He made sure that he would roll his eyes just with enough exasperation, so you would say the phrase again the next morning — ‘who are you calling gorgeous, sweetheart?’ he would tack on the end with barely-there smile.

He was all harsh frowns and sighs when his friends came over, so desperate to get a glimpse of you. Endless questions, all centred on you. Roommate this, roommate that. Well, he was desperate too. He wanted to keep your bright self all to himself, but you don’t see him being such a whine about it. 

The two of you had been assigned as roommates at the beginning of term. Bakugo was not worried at the prospect. He shouldn’t have to be. He would live his life and his roomie would live theirs. Simple.

It turned out to be easy living with you, incorporating two lives into one space. Not the worst arrangement, in his opinion, as it worked. Better than it should have honestly. The pet names, from your end, jarred him a little, but he accepted them all the same. Afterall, he was no different, though he preferred to call them nicknames, dumbass. 

He liked the routine the two of you had. Bakugo found it almost comforting, when he knew that you would be home, typing away at your essays, when he came back from wherever he was. He enjoyed your company, and you surely enjoyed his as well.

He noticed how you would always look for him. For a strand of blond, a speck of red, you seemed to hyperfocus on the colours. His colours, he preened at the thought. Bakugo found that this thing you had was awfully cute. 

He was no better, in fact, he was perhaps worse. He could not exactly pinpoint when it happened, but he started to think about you, feel for you — a greed, a hunger. He wanted more. He wanted to touch, to ruffle your hair more than he usually did, and to caress your face with silent affection. He wanted to love you, give you as much as he could muster, because you deserved it.

He bit his lip, skin peeling. He needed to buy some lip balm.

He can’t believe that he needed to remind himself. Roommates. Friends at most; best friends if he was truly lucky.

You were sat, perched at the kitchen table, hand underneath your chin at a tilt. Perkier than anyone should be after waking up. Bed hair in whispers around your face.  

“Smells nice.” You added, when he took a little too much time to respond. 

His voice was even, low. “You want some sweets?” 

He hummed as you agreed, and he started to take out the plates. Share space, share time, forget all about sharing hearts.

That was all the two of you were — roommates. 

love a good pine.

masterlist

[shuadotcom]

Polaroid Love | KMG

Summary: The prospect of meeting Mingyu’s family has you feeling a new emotion that you’ve never felt with anyone else. 

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x GN!Reader

Genres & AUs: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship au, college au

Rating: PG15

Warnings: Profanity, a make-out scene, mention of something suggestive but otherwise just fluffy

Words: 4.8k

Note: This was supposed to be posted on Mingyu’s birthday, but life happened so here it is now! Thank you to my wonderful beta @playmetheclassics​​ ily Indi mwah! 😘 This banner took me like an hour to make in canva and I’m very proud of it thank you very much. Anyway I love Mingyu 🙂

Net tag: @kflixnet​​

“Please? It'll be fun!”

“No.”

“Please? You just have to show up and talk to a couple of my family members. It's not a big deal.”

“Mingyu, no.”

“Pleaseeee!”

“I said no, Gyu!”

A chorus of shushes is heard after your outburst, along with glares from the other library patrons. Bowing your head quickly, you whisper apologies while your boyfriend giggles from next to you. A light pinch to his thigh stops him, though.

“Ow!” Mingyu whines, rubbing the sore spot. “That hurt! You're always so mean.”

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you stare at your book again. “Don’t be such a baby.”

He’s about to respond when you’re interrupted by your best friend and roommate nearly colliding with your table.

“Did you guys hear!?” Jeongyeon is out of breath as she harshly whispers at you.

“Did we hear what, that you're in love with Park Jimin? The whole campus knows.” You laugh and dodge the pen she throws at you.

“No, smartass! We're going away for spring break.”

“Who is we?”

“All of us! You two, me, Soonyoung, Hansol, Junhui, everyone. Jeonghan was able to convince Seungcheol to help drive us all to the beach for the break.”

“How the hell did he accomplish that? I remember when we brought it up a few months ago, Seungcheol said he’d rather do a pop quiz every day over break before taking all of us anywhere.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. “Who knows? You know Cheol can never say no to Jeonghan.”

“How many vans do you think we'll need to get?” Mingyu asks, leaning over the table in excitement.

Jeongyeon taps her finger against her chin in thought. “Maybe two? There’ll be fifteen of us, so it depends on how many seats they have.”

“Oh, only fifteen? I would’ve thought Jimin would be coming,” you tease, watching her get flustered at another mention of her crush’s name.

“I - I don’t even know what he’s doing for the break.”

“Ask him and see if he’s free. Maybe if you're lucky, you guys will get to sit next to each other for the whole drive.” You watch Jeongyeon's eyes widen, and you can practically hear her mind running at full speed in thought. “Well, I'll leave you with that thought. I'm off to lunch.” You stand up and gather your books with Mingyu right behind you.

“Poor Noona. You’ve left her in there to stress about how she’ll ask Jimin-hyung on the trip," he chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

Rolling your eyes, you wave off his concern. “She’s fine, I promise. She’s been into him for about two years and frothing at the mouth for a chance to get closer to him. He likes her too if the way he practically drools over her whenever they are within a five-foot radius of each other is any indication. One of them needs to suck it up and ask the other out because they're torturing themselves.”

“If it’ll help, I can talk to Jungkook about it during class later and see if I can get him to mention it to him.”

“Good idea, Gyu,” you praise him, placing a kiss on his hand that’s dangling over your shoulder.

He squeezes your shoulder in response, pulling you closer to his body. “Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to worry about is picking out an outfit.”

Skeptically you crane your neck up to look at him, brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For my family reunion.”

“No.”

“Please?!”

“I said no. I'm not going.”

“But-”

“No.” You reach the cafeteria then and slip from Mingyu’s embrace. He has a class in the building next door, so you know he won’t pester you anymore for at least an hour.

“Baby!”

“See you later, Gyu!” You blow him a kiss and slip inside before he can say anything else.

The rest of the week is crammed with last-minute assignments, everyone making plans for spring break, and Mingyu bringing up the family reunion any chance he gets.

It's not that you don’t want to go because you dislike Mingyu's family or anything. You’ve never actually met them, which in itself is the real problem. What if they don’t like the way you look? What if they don’t think you’re good enough for Mingyu? What if they end up hating you completely?

You’re not usually one to worry too much about what people think of you, but the idea of anyone as close to Mingyu as his family not liking you fills you with an immeasurable amount of dread. You’ve been dating for nearly a year, and you care about him more than anyone else you’ve ever been with. You’re lucky enough to have been able to fall into his friend group so easily and get along with everyone, but his family is so much deeper than that. You’re not sure you can handle someone like his mom taking one look at you and deciding you’re not right for her son.

You have a few weeks before the reunion, so you figure if you can deny him enough times, he'll forget about it and stop bringing it up. So far, your plan is failing miserably, though, as every other day, he’s bringing it up in person or sending you message after message about it.

You’ll be the first to admit that you have a problem opening up and talking about your feelings. You tend to bottle your emotions up inside, keeping them tucked close to you and have been that way as long as you can remember. Because of this, you’ve yet to tell Mingyu the real reason you keep turning him down, at least not yet, not until you can gather the courage to dive into your feelings more.

It’s been a week since you’ve been trying to deter the reunion conversation with Mingyu, at times even turning down hanging out with him completely to doge the topic, citing you being too busy with assignments, which is half-true. Running from your feeling is the other half of that excuse, but he doesn’t need to know that yet.

After your last class on Friday ends, you head to the library, hoping to finish your homework before meeting Jeongyeon for dinner and starting the weekend. While you’re on the last question of your sociology assignment, a noticeable shadow appears over your table. When you glance up, Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate, is staring down at you with a stoic expression.

“Yes?”

“Mingyu is very distressed.”

“And?”

“And you should fix it. He's been moping around our room all day and blowing up the group chat nonstop. He keeps whining about how you won't go to his family reunion and meet his family.”

“He's a drama queen,” you mumble. Wonwoo sighs and leans over the table in front of you. Wonwoo is probably one of the guys in your large group of friends you were closest with, besides your boyfriend, of course. The tall, dark-haired man seemed intimidating and cold when you first met, but his looks are deceiving. Wonwoo is nothing but sweet and funny and has proven to be a great listener when you needed to vent when Jeongyeon or Mingyu weren’t around.

“He really likes you, you know. He doesn't shut up about you when you're not around, and it kind of makes the rest of us want to strangle him.” Wonwoo lets out a laugh and looks back at you as you avoid his gaze.

“Look, he wants you to meet his family because he's serious about you. He's only dated three other people in his whole life, and none of them met his family beyond maybe his parents and sister here and there. He never even mentioned bringing any of them around his entire family, so think about that.” He stands upright after his words, giving you one more look.

“I don’t want to pry, so I won’t ask you to tell me why you won’t go, but just know it’s more important to him than he’s probably said to you.” With that, Wonwoo sends you a wave that you feebly return before leaving you alone in your corner of the library.

The thought of just how important the reunion is to Mingyu hadn’t been something you thought about. And the knowledge of you being the only partner of his to meet his whole family has butterflies taking flight in your stomach and dread washing over you. Something new and foreign stirs in your chest at that moment, which has your mind whirling.

Quickly, you stand up and gather your things, sending a brief text to Jeongyeon to bring dinner to your shared room because you have something very important to discuss with her.

Your dorm building is just as busy as it usually is when you get inside, with students kicking soccer balls in the hallways, leaving their doors open while they blast music, or loitering in the halls and chatting. You take the stairs to the second floor to successfully dodge Joshua, who you glimpse heading into the elevator down the hall. Wonwoo had only cornered you to give you a small lecture, but you’re sure Joshua won’t hesitate to bring it up and try to press a little as to why you keep turning Mingyu down.

When you round the corner of your hall, you spot Jeongyeon already there, hanging outside your room while conversing with one of the younger men in your group of friends.

“Beat it, Chan.”

“What?” A look of surprise flashes over his face as he looks between the two of you.

“You heard me. Leave.”

“But earlier this morning Jeongyeon-noona said I could eat dinner with you guys tonight!”

“Yeah, well, Jeongyeon and I have something very important to discuss, and you're not invited.” His intense pout instantly makes you feel bad.

“Sorry, Chan,” you sigh. “I just really have to talk to her about something that’s kind of an emergency. Can we take a rain check?” You soften your tone, hoping to lessen his disappointment.

Chan glances at Jeongyeon, who shrugs. “Alright, fine,” he relents. “But you have to buy me a snack next time for being mean.”

“Deal,” you roll your eyes at both him and the smirk on his face. “I think your boyfriend needs some company anyway. Bye!” He meets your gaze, chuckling at the face you give him, which you know is one of exasperation. You wait until he’s down the hall before turning to face Jeongyeon.

“I guess you weren't joking in your text about something ‘life-changing and imperative’. What's going on?” She asks as she unlocks the door.

“Well, I haven't told you something because I just wanted to keep it to myself because I hoped it would go away soon, but Mingyu is stubborn, so it hasn't.”

“Which is exactly why you two are meant for one another.” You shoot Jeongyeon a look and snatch one of the bento boxes from her hands.

“Could you hang back on the sarcasm while I talk? And just let me get it all out first.”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I'm all ears.”

You each sit on your respective beds facing each other, and you let the word vomit flow. You recount Wonwoo’s words about the family reunion to her and what he had told you about Mingyu’s past partners, and how much this all means to him. You also let out your feelings that you’ve been trying to keep to yourself - about your insecurities and worries about making a good impression and the guilt nagging at you every time you turn Mingyu down.

“This is just so important to him, and I can't even do this one thing! The thought of all of those people there judging me for my major or the way I look or the outfit I decide to wear, or literally anything about me! It's way too overwhelming, and every time I think about it, I go into panic mode, and I start to feel anxious and itchy. I’m terrified that they won’t like me, Jeongyeon.

“What if they try to tell Gyu to break up with me or something? What if we get there, and he sees me being weird and awkward, and I make a bad impression, and he decides that I’m not who he thought I was, and he wants to break up with me on his own? But then I’m so guilty about disappointing him and not going, and I feel like I lose whether I say no to him or whether I go and then fuck everything up. I just don't know what to do!” You let out a groan and flop backwards on the bed. Your forgotten dinner, now getting cold, jostles on the bed next to you.

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Jeongyeon speaks. “You love him.”

You sit up so quickly that your head starts to hurt. “What did you say?”

“I said you love him. That's why you feel so guilty and are so confused. I've known you since we were teenagers, Y/n. You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met. When you don't want to do something, you simply don't, and you don't give it much of a second thought. Of course, you consider doing things you don’t want to for me and your other friends, but this is different!”

Jeongyeon hops off her bed to sit next to you, offering you a comforting back rub. “You feel the way you do because you love Mingyu, and you’re scared that his family won’t like you, which will break your heart, and you don’t want to lose him.”

You don’t respond to her, so she continues.

“If you want my opinion, I think you should go to the reunion. If you want to stay with Mingyu and keep this relationship going, you’ll have to meet his family eventually. You can’t hide from them forever if you stay together. Plus, I’m willing to bet he feels the same. Mingyu looks at you as if you are an actual ethereal being and like you’re the center of his world. I don’t think you have to worry about his reaction when and if you decide to tell him the truth about everything you’re feeling.”

Jeongyeon’s expression is soft as she looks at you, waiting for your response and giving you time to process everything.

Do you love Mingyu? Sure, you love spending time with him. He’s the most attentive, sweetest, kind-hearted partner you’ve ever had. He pays attention to every detail about you, whether your likes and dislikes or silly, arbitrary things. Every day with him feels like a dream, and you often wonder how the hell you got so lucky to end up with a boyfriend as amazing as Kim Mingyu.

Being with Mingyu is the happiest you’ve ever been, and the idea of loving him - of him being the first person you’ve ever been in true, genuine love with is uncharted waters for you. The mere idea of losing him leaves a gaping hole in your chest - the hypothetical of that situation alone makes your eyes water. Not hugging Mingyu? Not holding hands or sharing laughter with him? Not seeing his beautiful, perfect face in the morning as he snores just the tiniest bit? You and Mingyu haven’t been together for that long, but any world where you have a Mingyu-shaped piece missing from your life isn’t one you ever want to think about.

As if sensing you deep in thought, Jeongyeon gives you a final pat before leaving you alone. She grabs the rest of her dinner, letting you know she’ll be back later and mumbling something about “finally having a breakthrough and needing to take care of something.” You bid her farewell with a simple nod, reaching for your bento box to quiet your grumbling stomach. Eating in silence, you try to sort through the jumbled mess in your head, digesting the new thoughts and feelings you’re experiencing, all for the first stressful time.

You stay holed up in your dorm room the rest of the weekend, thankful now more than ever that you managed to get a schedule with only weekday classes.

Mingyu, being the caring boyfriend he is, knows something is wrong on Saturday morning right away. When you wake up, you have a few texts from him, asking to see you and take you out.

His desperation to check in with you and see you are obvious, even through written words, which makes it hard to turn him away.

[Y/n] I want to be alone this weekend, okay, Gyu? I’m not feeling very social.

[Gyu💖] Are you sure? Is everything okay?

[Y/n] Yeah, I just want alone time, okay? 🙂

[Gyu💖] 🥺

[Gyu💖] Okay, baby. Whatever you want ❤️

You can practically hear the pout in his text, and it feels shitty to turn him away, but you need more time. Since Friday night, when Jeongyeon had planted the seed in your brain, you decide it would be best to avoid Mingyu just to get your thoughts in order.

Jeongyeon passes along the message to the rest of your friends that you’re fine and just need some alone time. It’s the only thing that quiets your phone and stops your various group chats from continuing to go off. Everyone is kind enough to respect your wishes though, allowing you to spend the two days drowning in your thoughts and eating almost half of your and Jeongyeon’s instant ramen stash. It was probably dramatic to hide away all weekend, but it helped you wake up on Monday with a clearer head.

“I hope you plan on talking to Mingyu today,” Jeongyeon says as you get ready for your Monday morning lecture. “I saw him yesterday when I was eating lunch, and he looked like a lost, sad puppy without you there bossing him around. All he needed was a rainstorm and a choreography routine, and he would’ve looked straight out of an early 2000s break-up song music video.”

The image makes you laugh just a little before frowning and feeling bad for leaving him hanging all weekend.

“I am, I promise. I just needed to get my shit together.”

The two of you head out across campus to your shared lecture hall. Mingyu has class is in the building on the other side of campus, so you won’t have to see him for a couple of hours, giving you plenty of time to calm your nerves.

That idea is dismissed when you get inside and spot him by your classroom door. Mingyu’s long legs allow him to reach you in an instant, gently grabbing your arm and whisking you around the corner and into the stairwell. You can already tell he’s unhappy just by the look on his face.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Is the first thing out of his mouth.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re breaking up with me. I know you said you needed time alone, and Jeongyeon told us all the same thing, mentioning that you were just taking a couple of mental health days, but does that mean that you’re breaking up with me and were just taking time to think about doing it?”

“Mingyu, I-”

“Is it because I keep pressuring you to meet my family? You don't have to!”

“It's not that I just-”

“Am I too annoying? I swear I won’t bring it up again! And if there’s anything else that I do that’s too annoying or immature,  just tell me, and I'll change, I promise!"

“Mingyu, you don't understand. I just need to-”

“No, you don't understand! I really like you, okay, Y/n? I like you more than anyone I’ve ever dated. Just going two days without being around you killed me! That, on top of the fact that I couldn't even call you or see your face, made it so much worse! I just wanted to break down your door and come in and hold you in my arms even though you'd probably be yelling at me the whole time. I just hated the thought of you being unhappy, and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Mingyu looks almost near tears as he takes in a big breath.

“I don't care if you say that it's too soon, but I just need to say that I think I'm in love with you! You don't have to feel the same yet or say it back, I just needed to say it. Even if you think I'm foolish or that I don't know anything, and-”

“Kim Mingyu, I love you too!” You yank the front of his shirt and pull him closer.

“What did you just say?” Your forehead rests against his, his brown eyes wide as he gapes at you.

“I said that I love you too. That's what I was doing this weekend. I needed time to think about my feelings and figure out if I was in love with you, and I am. I felt bad about saying no to meeting your family, and I felt like such a terrible partner, and I couldn't figure out why, but I was able to think about it, and goddammit, I love you. I love you a lot, and it scares me because I don’t think I’ve ever truly been in love, but I know that I love you.”

You barely have the chance to catch your breath from your speech before Mingyu is leaning down and stealing the air left in your lungs. He presses you against the wall as your arms wind around his neck, and you sigh into the kiss, indulging in the familiar, comforting taste that is Kim Mingyu. He drags his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately grant him. The kiss easily deepens as your tongues intertwine, and his grip on your waist gets tighter. If you hadn't needed to breathe, you would've spent the rest of the day exactly the way you are.

Mingyu pulls away, allowing you to breathe, both of you panting, flushed, and smiling like idiots at each other.

“You love me,” Mingyu whispers.

“I love you.”

“Say it again,” you roll your eyes at the wonderful, wide grin he shoots you but repeat yourself, punctuating it with a quick kiss on the tiny mole on his nose.

“And I love you too.” Mingyu murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours before capturing your lips once again. Your hands move to his hair, fingers grabbing at his soft strands.

“Ahem!” A sudden voice makes the two of you spring apart. When you glance to the doorway, you see Jeongyeon waiting, her face serious and her arms crossed. “Hey, so this is cute and all, don't get me wrong, but we have a lecture to get to like now, Y/n.”

Groaning, Mingyu peeks over his shoulder at Jeongyeon. “Fine, I'll let go.” When he turns back to you still in his arms, a different expression clouds his features. “But this evening, after your last class, I'm coming to your room, and you're all mine.” His words and the look in his eyes make your face heat up, already knowing what you have to look forward to tonight.

“O - okay,” you croak, clearing your throat. Mingyu gives you one more kiss before slipping past Jeongyeon and waving at you both down the hall.

“Ugh, please don't tell me you guys are going to have sex in our room. What about me?!”

You snap out of the trance your boyfriend left you in and side-eye your best friend. “What about you? Why don't you go do the same with Jimin while we're busy? I may have barricaded myself in our room, but I still have a way of knowing things. Like how Professor Ok caught you two making out and having quite the heavy petting session in the back of the cafeteria yesterday.” Jeongyeon’s jaw drops as her cheeks begin to turn bright red.

“How did you know that?!”

“I have my ways.” You smirk as she follows you into your lecture. Even though you were a recluse all weekend, you still checked your phone from time to time. A celebratory message from Seungkwan in your group chat with a few other nosey friends confirmed the news and everyone was relieved to finally have confirmation that Jeongyeon and Jimin had admitted their feelings for one another.

“All I know is, it's about damn time.” You practically skip to your seat, leaving Jeongyeon stuttering out an excuse behind you.

“I'm not moving this van until you all have your seat belts on.” Seungcheol eyes all of you in the rearview mirror and waits until he hears the click of seat belts to pull out of the campus parking lot.

After much debate, all of you decide to spend the week in a hotel near the closest beach to you. Winter has officially left, and spring is now in its place, with weather warm enough for shorts and tank tops. You had all chipped in to rent a fifteen-passenger van and are leaving campus at eight in the morning, thanks to Seokmin’s nagging about getting the best spot on the sand.

Once the van starts to move, Jeongyeon turns around to the row of seats behind her and lays her head on the back of the seat. You look up from your phone to meet her gaze, already knowing what she’s going to ask.

“So, how was the reunion? I didn't get a chance to ask you since you guys got back.” You and Mingyu had gotten back from his parent's house the night before when Jeongyeon was asleep, and with the excitement of getting ready to leave this morning, the two of you hadn’t gotten much time to talk about it.

“It was really fun, actually. His family was super nice and accepting. He threw a fit at one point because his little sister and one of his cousins were attached to my hip. His mom threatened to show me any and every embarrassing picture of him she had if he didn’t stop acting like a baby and that worked.” You let out a quiet snicker, glancing at Mingyu, asleep on your shoulder.

“She was seriously so sweet, though. And the only time I embarrassed myself was when we were going into the house to help her with some of the food, and she said something along the lines of ‘When you two get married,’ which made me trip, and Gyu had to catch me before I ate dirt.”

Jeongyeon stifles a laugh, covering it with a cough. “Well, hey, at least she likes you! You were worried over nothing.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But oh! I take it Jimin had other plans for break?”

She flushes, nodding. “Yeah, he already had a trip booked with his friends, so he couldn’t come. We have a date planned for when we both get back to school, though, so I’m excited about that.” A dopey smile plays on her lips, and you coo at the gesture.

“I’m so glad you two finally admitted that you like each other!”

“Me too!” Soonyoung pipes up from next to Jeongyeon. “Do you know how annoying it was to hear Jimin gush over you in dance class every week? I swear, every time we were partnered up, his first questions were always about how you were doing and if you were seeing anyone. I can only answer back ‘fine’ and ‘no’ so many times before I lose my mind!”

“Shut it, Soonyoung! I thought you were asleep!” He ignores Jeongyeon and turns in his seat to face you.

“I hope I don’t have to hear him talk even more about how great she is! I don’t think I can stand fifty minutes of him running how mouth about how much he likes her and all the dates they go on and how good she is in bed and -”

Jeongyeon sucks her teeth, snatching his tiger plushie from his hands and hitting him over the head with it a few times. “You know all about running your mouth, don’t you?! Stop talking about my relationship!”

“I’m sorry, stop it! Y/n, get her!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Popping your earbuds in, you gesture to your now occupied ears, dramatically shrugging at your friends.

Mingyu stirs next to you, and you can’t help but brush away a stray piece of hair from his face. The commotion barely phases him as he adjusts to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into your neck.

Aside from Jeongyeon threatening Soonyoung’s life, everyone else is either chatting quietly with each other or sleeping, the energy low from getting up so early, but you’re nowhere near tired, still feeling full of warmth and admiration for Mingyu’s family and how well they treated you. Instead of trying to sleep, you settle for laying your head on top of Mingyu's and simply enjoying the warmth of your boyfriend the man that you are wholeheartedly in love with.

[gay-caveman]

I have a lot, so buckle up:

Off The Field by t_time

it's EVERYTHING to me. it kind of reminds me of 'rules don't apply' by Menocchio. it's another soccer au but it's 90s lawrusso and they're both teachers. sososo much chemistry.

Diagnosis Avoidance by narcissablaxk

it's short and sweet. daniel is a doctor and johnny is head over HEELS. it's very romcom-esque. def one of my favs.

dog walker wanted by narcissablaxk

another romcom-esque fic by the same person. it's probably my favorite fic to ever exist. again, 90s lawrusso. meetcute. it's tagged "anti-frat boy" MUST I SAY MORE.

camp triple pine by mind_writing

angst. smut. summer camp. sexual tension. platonically smacking your rivals ass (it'll make sense). it's a lot, it's amazing, and the vibes are astronomical. we need more 80s lawrusso summer camp fics.

Anti-Hero by pinkgrapefloyd

it's the misunderstandings trope done right. it somehow balances comedy with serious writing in the best way. also I'm SUCH a sucker for outsider povs. the fic is told from Robby's pov instead of Daniel or Johnny's which just adds to the comedy. dramatic irony at its finest.

don't break hearts (destroy them) by icedin

just to let you know, it is unfinished THOUGH it's so original and honesty another one of my top fics. it is a 90s lawrusso ORCHESTRA fic. how amazing is that, seriously. again, the vibes are off the charts.

Mambo Italiano by theremin

it is SO CUTE. 50s highschool au where Daniel teaches johnny to dance and johnny unexpectedly falls for him.

Be Kind, Rewind by BackinBlack_80

ANOTHER one of my favorites LMAO. all of the characters are so amazing. another 90s lawrusso fic (I think I have a type) but this time they work at blockbuster. it's on the light side when it comes to angst which I love. I can't recommend it enough.

Dancing In The Fire by FuckYeahChilton

it's a really interesting crossover/fusion fic. its a crossover which includes characters from the outsiders, karate kid, and stranger things. it's set in nyc in the 1980s and daniel is a dancer just trying to follow his dream of being in broadway. him and johnny are roommates and it is just soso good. (ALSO it's a wip).

For Richer, For Poorer by LulaMadison

daniel and johnny get married for robby's sake. it is so funny, so cute, and I've reread it many times. I cannot recommend it enough. (also, we get more of johnny flopping on dates which is just amazing.)

Stunting by GoldStarGrl

okay, so I admit I haven't fully read this one BUT it's too good to not include. I mean, johnny does CHEERLEADING!!! i literally do not know what else to say besides that. I think that's compelling enough on its own.

Les coeurs affames by Flightless_corvid

I am such a slut for niche au's. they're rivaling chefs in this one. it's tagged "annoyed at first sight". going crazy. going insane. frothing at the mouth. it is so amazing but terrible for my sleeping schedule.

Single dads united by Wolf___Spirit

they're both single parents. it is so aaaaaaa. I love this fic so much. (can you tell I am getting exhausted from typing so much. the things I put myself through for lawrusso,,,,)

for the small weird loves. by poetdameron

a character study inspired by Richard Siken. going insane. going crazy crazy crazy. sobs. I cried a lot while reading this one. (it has a happy ending)

OKAY I think that's it. for now. (take that as a threat)

ive probably read most of them or literally share it as a favorite but:

who wants to comment their favorite LawRusso fic and contribute to my mental illness?

[kyosmommy]

You overhear two customers talk about needing a third roommate and you're the perfect fit. A barista and two late night workers, what could go wrong.

This chapter contains: SFW for now, Roomate AU, Barista!Reader, AthleticTrainer!Iwaizumi, Funeral!Employee!Matsukawa

Coffee Stains masterlist

"Thank you, and have a wonderful day!" The doorbell jingled as he waved his goodbyes. Sunlight bathed the now-empty tables in the warm afternoon glow. "And with that, rush hour is over everyone." As you finished cleaning cups, you laughed at everyone's relieved sighs. The crew hated rush hour, especially the poor kid who cleaned the tables.

“What is this!?!? Can adults not drink properly! There’s coffee on the seat, are you kidding me! I hope your ass has coffee stains now too” He kept mumbling under his breath as they all enjoyed his antics.

It's incredible how much your little coffee shop has grown in the last few years. The little café is perfectly located in the corner of the block between office buildings and the apartment complex you live in. And what seems like a dream come true to some is your financial nightmare. Being a walking distance from your business means no commute so no gas money, but with building expansion comes the ridiculous inflation of prices. Your one-bedroom flat is now worth the same as some houses which you simply can not afford on your own. So your journey to find a new place started about a month ago and has led to nowhere.

“I'm going to the back real quick. Just gonna grab some new bags for the afternoon brew.” You shout over your shoulder on the way to the back room. Fresh coffee was brewed twice a day. Once in the morning for the early crowd and once in the afternoon for your evening customers.

Choosing one of your sweeter blends you head back to the front prep station. Already a new group of customers has lined up and started ordering.

“So much for a break, huh boss?” Mandy bumps you in the shoulder.

“Ha, yeah.” You rest your head on your best friend's shoulder for a second before heading back to work. You keep making drinks and warming up baked treats in the baby blue ovens you found too cute not to purchase for your café. Scooping the blend into the machine you give it a few minutes to brew and then continue serving and frothing drinks.

“Table 4 needs their drinks”

“I got it, I’ll take table 7s too.” You grabbed the orders and headed out to the floor, making sure you didn't spill any.

Approaching table 4 you heard the conversation that would single handedly change your life. “Nah man, we need another roommate. The rent can’t keep going up like this, it’s too much.”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s a fucking townhouse not some rich guys pyramid scheme. That bastard is like 80 anyways what’s he renovating? ”

“That's not how pyramid schemes work dumbass.”

You picked the now empty plate and placed the ordered coffee down. “Sorry I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard you mention you're looking for a roommate?”

He hums back, nodding appreciatively, “No worries hun, we actually are. The tenant wants to renovate so the damn rent went up.” He sips his cup taking a second to think about how cute the heart you made with the foam was. His mood instantly changed when the drink hit his tongue. His sour expression softened into a more satisfied one. “Wow this is good.”

“Thank you, I just made it! So um do you guys take applications or…”

“If you can make coffee like this all the time then consider yourself in.” He flashes you a toothy grin, his lengthy curls seemingly match his fun smile. Piercings littered his ears and face. Everything about him completely contrasted to how he was dressed. Black ironed slacks to match his tie and a crisp button up shirt. He seems too well dressed to not know what pyramid schemes are.

“We can start with checking out the place, see if you like it. Then we can start talking about rent and moving arrangements.” Then there was the one with cropped pin straight hair that seemed to pair with his endearing scowl. Shorter in stature but definitely made up for it in muscle. Casual polo, brightly colored sports joggers and the only similarity they have were the matching gauges on their ears and even those were different colors. Total opposites, yet they were perfectly comfortable with each other.

“Gosh I'd appreciate that a million times over! Thank you!” You pulled a page from your order booklet and began scribbling your information. "Just let me know when and where you want to meet! I’ve been looking for a new place for a while, you guys are amazing!" This was the perfect solution to your housing problem and it practically landed at your feet. It didn't hurt that your solution included two coffee-loving sweethearts.

“Could we get more coffee over here?” A nearby table called.

“Yes of course.” You stuffed the booklet back into your apron and quickly rushed off.

They watched you hurry admiring the way you made a food covered apron look so good. Turning to each other they gave a quick look before racing to grab the note. Just like you said, it had your name and number, but right at the end you doodled a little heart.

Taglist: @waka-chan-out @cirigiri @antique-remains@milf-hunterpedia

[daisys-gard3n]

Okay…. But Bruno who gets what glimpses he can of you from afar as you’re getting changed, getting into the shower, touching yourself… but who also has to try so hard not to cum in seconds when he finally gets to have you because none of his sketches or models or animations were as good as the real thing. He’s murmuring out how you’re so perfect, so much better than he ever could have dreamed, nothing has ever felt as good as you feel, he adores you…. You get the picture 💖 — Laur

Hnnnnnng pls

Bruno is such a fucking voyeur. He takes any chance he can get to see me naked or in some revealing clothes. Taking advantage that I don't lock doors to peak on me in the shower (that's glass door). Practically drooling at the sight of my body - especially if i decided take extra time in the shower with my sex toy and try to fuck myself with it before I get out. He's so hard at the sight, taking secret sneaky pics to get references for his next sketches. Or peaking on me when I buy my next haul of lingerie, seeing the pretty pink cloth and skimpiness I parade in front of my mirror has him frothing - its all he can think about when he sees me next, what kind of pretty and see through panties am I wearing.

He can't help when he gets so hard from drawing out the sex scenes of me and him, having to take a break to jerk off and cum in his hand because he couldn't take it anymore.

I guess we're roommates in this au, but i guess we decided to get lit with drinks and I complain that I can't find a guy - and then talk about how i'd probably scare them off with how not vanilla I am. One things leads to another, and I'm on the couch with my face pressed against the cushions and my ass in the air as Bruno's grip on my hips is so tight as he rails into me. God, I felt better than any pocket pussy he bought. Feeling how hot and wet I was for him made him want to cum so hard, he almost came in his pants from just eating me out. He finally gets to touch every curve and every surface he eyed for some time now. He's in a drunken state of adoration, chattering on about how beautiful and perfect I am, he never dreamed of this happening in real life, how he wish he could never wake up if this was a dream, and how nothing compared to the real thing. He probably has to keep quiet about his hobby, but I find it hot when I snoop on his computer. I might teasingly call out that I knew he was watching me those time I masturbate in the shower. Prompting a mutual masturbation session. I'd probably act out any sort of kink he drew out and fantasize just to see him so fucked out and draining his balls <3

[get-shiggy-with-it]

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

[mythrilhusk]

Our World - Chapter One

Technoblade-centric; obligatory Greek Pantheon/The Office AU, No shipping, Not RPF

2.4k words, slightly funny (maybe?), AO3 Link, 

Features ND/Schizophrenic!Technoblade  - (Written by myself, an actually schizophrenic/neurodivergent person... Neurotypicals/Non-psychotics should not attempt this.) 

CW: Intrusive thoughts/visions/urges, auditory hallucinations

Elysium's smallest company branch rests unobtrusively in the town Oneiros, buried in some backwoods county. Technoblade reads through the list of employees once more as his taxi weaves through a mountain pass. His equipment sits on the seat beside him, while the rest of his luggage bounces in the trunk. 

Elysium's CFO, some guy named Eret, hired Techno on the spot when he came to the interview. Seemed kinda desperate, but eh, so was Technoblade. 

H's not entirely sure why they would only hire one guy to do this job. Eh, work is work, and they sure pay well enough. They're providing an apartment, too. An actual roof over his head will be nice, for however long Techno can keep the job. He bets a week, tops. 

The narrow road crests over the top of the mountain, revealing the town beneath sprawling in the valley. The Elysium office building juts out of the south side of the town, an ugly block of concrete and glass. Technoblade wrinkles his nose in disdain, silently agreeing with chat as they mock the displeasing aesthetics.  

When his taxi pulls up into the parking lot, Technoblade piles his luggage and equipment on the sidewalk before paying the driver. He adds a tip, too, though he can barely afford even that much. The driver's pale cheeks stretch in a nervous smile as he clutches the money; he's too afraid to protest the miniscule tip. Techno doesn't make an effort to smile back, too busy ignoring visions featuring the bloody crunch of the man's neck between his thirsty teeth. 

The taxi peels away, leaving Technoblade alone in the chilly mountain air. With ringing ears and a heavy huff, Techno gathers his stuff and heads into the building. 

The receptionist plays on his phone, ignoring Technoblade even when he raps his knuckles atop the boy's shaggy brown hair. "Tubbo," He grunts, recalling the appearance from the employee list. 

Tubbo starts, staring up at Techno with wary intensity, like a tiger cub encountering a wild boar for the first time. Techno smiles wryly at the boy, who must still be younger than eighteen. Chat clamors for blood, urging him with the weight of his knife, but Technoblade doesn't entertain them. 

"Technoblade." Tubbo regains his composure and holds out a hand. "I'm so glad you're finally here, big man, we've been waiting." 

"Why the rush?" Technoblade snorts, ignoring the proffered handshake. Physical contact irritates him. 

Tubbo drops his hand. "We just really like documentaries about ourselves, yeah?" 

"K." It's not his place to question a gig, although chat goes wild with suspicion. "Where am I staying?" 

"Oh, right, you'll be staying with Philza. Heh, try not to piss him off. Or do, it'll be funny." Tubbo waves to the rest of the wide room. "Phil! Your roommate's here!" 

"Fuck off, mate, I told you bastards, I don't want a fucking roommate." Techno recognizes the man who speaks as the dude in charge of customer relations: Philza. His golden hair glints with hints of fire, setting off his blue eyes, as merciless as the stars. 

Chat froths, raging for blood, blood, blood, but Techno mentally bats them away. "K, welp, I was promised boardin' with this gig. I don't really care where; just get me a place to stay." Technoblade shrugs, baring his teeth in a smile that's just south of friendly. 

Philza smiles too, showing off his fangs. Tubbo holds up his hands, saying, "Woah, woah, here. Phil, it's your turn. It's not gonna last long, anyway." 

"Heh? Turn?" Technoblade chuffs, even as the cacophony that is chat hisses, technodead, technodead, lmao, RIP- Shut up, chat, we are not dead yet. 

Philza's grin widens maliciously. "Oh, did Eret not tell you?" 

"That dude told me the bare minimum, man, I dunno, I dunno what you expected." 

"You're not the first film crew he's hired," Tubbo says with a faux apologetic shrug. Before Technoblade can protest the use of crew to describe one man, Tubbo continues with the barest hint of a smirk. "But the other ones died, just like you will." 

Technodead, technodead, EEEEEE, RIP, RIP, F, EEE, lmaooo, F, rainbowchat- "Get outta here," Techno drawls, narrowing his eyes. Not for the first time, he wishes chat had a physical embodiment he could punt. "Technoblade never dies." 

"We'll see," Philza muses, his eyes twinkling with the apathetic amusement of an ancient god toying with mortals. Hazing, that's all this is. Phil hands Technoblade a business card. "Don't be late." 

Techno scans the card, appreciating the flaming torch insignia etched into the bronze-inked paper. Ares, god of war... Chat hisses the allusion, seeming in awe of this man who has taken a god's symbol. Techno flips it over to find the address, and then raises an eyebrow at Phil. "What time?" 

Philza picks up a stack of papers from the massive copy-printer and strides back to his desk. "Before evenfall." 

Welp, that's that interaction over with. Technoblade notes how all the other office workers are studiously ignoring him. He turns to Tubbo. "Where's the boss?" 

Tubbo puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Are you, are you going to complain to our manager, mister?" 

"Yeah," Technoblade plays along. "I'm giving you a three star review." 

"Oh, that's not bad." 

"Out of ten." 

Tubbo's visage darkens, and Techno gets an uneasy feeling like a hurricane is about to hit. The feeling passes, though, as Tubbo pouts. "I deserve more than that, man! Give me six stars, at least!" 

"Tell ya what, if you show me where the regional manager's office is, I'll raise my review to seven stars." 

"Done!" Tubbo cries, and points to an inconspicuous pair of doors on the other end of the room. "One leads to Manager Puffy, the other leads to Manager Schlatt. Choose wisely, good sir." 

Techno hums approvingly, then draws out his pad of stickers from his coat pocket. Tubbo's eyes widen and he gasps, bouncing excitedly as Techno sticks a sparkly gold star to his forehead. "Good work, nerd." 

Tubbo just stammers, plopping back into his chair with a blissful expression. Heh. Stickers work every time. Chat begs for stickers of their own, beg to be called nerds, beg for even a little taste of blood, but they don't deserve any rewards after being so bad all day. 

Techno strides over to the managers' office doors. Each has a whiteboard on the front, with various scribbles over them. One has a fluffy sheep, and says in swirly script, //The captain is IN//. The other has various dicks doodled on it, and the only word written is, //Candice//. Chat breaks down in immature giggles. Technoblade opts for the former. 

He knocks politely. A woman's voice replies, "Enter." 

Opening the door, Technoblade scans the room. There's a full bookshelf covering one wall, and a low bureau across the opposite. A bay window sheds light across the manager's desk, tinted by the grey-green curtains. 

A woman rises from her chair, her expression hidden by the sunlight behind her. Her waves of hair-- half brown and half silver-- sparkle with the dewdrop diamonds haphazardly woven in. 

"District Manager Puffy?" Technoblade bobs his head to her. 

"Call me Captain Puffy," Puffy replies, and her teeth glint in a wild smile as she tosses her head. "You're the new film crew Eret hired?" 

"Uhh, apparently." Technoblade appreciates that she doesn't hold out her hand to greet him. "He never specified what kind of film he wanted, though, so-" 

"Don't worry about that," Puffy tuts, "I'll give you instructions when you're settled in." 

"K." Technoblade can respect this kind of person. Chat has been subdued and pouting for the past few minutes by his refusal to give them any sort of attention. He takes mercy on them and stares at the model ships on the bureau, letting them coo over the complexity and aesthetic. 

"Uh, Mister Blade?" Puffy's voice intrudes on his appreciation of the ships. 

"Just Techno is fine." Techno refuses to look away from the ships, since they're keeping chat happy for the moment. 

"You'll be assigned a desk tomorrow, and you'll be given tasks around the office to, to acclimate and get to know your coworkers. Later, you can start filming random candid moments. We want a sort of documentary detailing our office lifestyle." Puffy hands a paper flyer to Techno. 

Glancing through it, Techno frowns. "What exactly does Elysium sell?" 

"We need a better PR team, which is why we've hired you. Elysium strives for the betterment of lives and the strengthening of minds." Puffy completely fails to answer the question. Chat calls her a sussy baahka, and Techno shoots a pointed glare at the bookshelves. He's definitely not giving chat any stickers tonight. 

Puffy seems ready to dismiss him, so Techno bobs his head once more to her and opens the door. A strange noise, like the crashing of waves against a rocky shore, resonates through the air, halting him. Her eyes snap wide, glittering with something cold and unforgiving, yet somehow comforting and protective. "Pray to your god for mercy and it shall be given." 

Technoblade chuckles, smothering the fire lit behind his eyes. "I'm kinda an atheist, Brizo; if there are any gods out there, they'll be begging me for mercy." He realizes too late that his extensive knowledge of the ancient Greek religion has escaped his tongue. Chat screams with excitement as they put together the allusions to the referenced spirit, Brizo, patron of sailors and prophecy. What a bunch of nerds. 

Captain Puffy stares at him, her smile twinkling: sun rays piercing through storm clouds. "Of course, Hades." 

Technoblade smiles back at the retort-- he's always been partial to the god of wealth-- and he bobs his head in deference to her once more. Any fellow partaker of old stories easily gets put in his good book. Puffy bows back, and Technoblade takes that as his cue to leave. He closes the door behind him.  

Spotting the break room, Techno makes his way towards it, weaving through the desks. He pulls out his last, wrinkly dollar and slips it into the vending machine, then selects one of the bags of cookies. Sitting down with it, he inspects the coworker who's followed him in. "Tommy, right?" 

The youth-- the sole employee in HR-- scowls, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing with scorn. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Technoblade??" 

"Heh?" The teen's aggressive tone sets him on edge: hands itching and teeth aching and eyes burning for blood, blood, blood- no. No more of that. "Tommy, I just, I just got here? What are you upset at me for?" 

"I'm just askin', Techno. Who do you think you are?" Tommy juts his chin out challengingly. "There can only be one boss man here." 

"You wanna be the boss?" Technoblade rips open the bag of cookies. 

"Well, obviously." 

"Best me in single combat and we'll see." Technoblade is only jesting, of course. Even if the kid agreed to the fight, it would be unfair. 

"Yes! Meet me in the parking lot in thirty minutes, idiot, and I'll fuckin' wipe the pavement with your ugly face!!" Tommy whoops and skips out of the break room before Techno can explain he was only joking. 

Great. He's going to be fired for challenging a coworker to a fight, now. This will officially become the shortest job he's ever held, beating his last record by three hours. Technoblade munches his cookies and refuses to listen to chat as they bully him for making such a mess of his last chance. 

When he's finished his cookies, Technoblade goes down to the parking lot, figuring that if he's going to be fired, he'd better do it in style. 

Tommy waits for him, the breeze whipping through his blond hair. "No weapons, no magic, just me an' you, Technoblade." 

"K." Technoblade shrugs, not seeing any point to telling the teen that magic doesn't actually exist. It was probably a sort of ironic joke, anyway. 

Tubbo stands on the sidewalk, cheering for Tommy. Another teen leans on the wall behind Tubbo, seeming paler than should really be healthy, with a mop of black hair covering their ears. 

"En garde!" Tommy cries and leaps to punch Techno.

Swaying to avoid the blow, Techno jabs Tommy in the gut with his knuckles. The youth staggers back, face distorted in pain. Technoblade remains relaxed, raising his hands. "Feel free to back out any time." 

"Fuck you!" Tommy roars and charges, fists flailing. The picture of waves recklessly dashing themselves against an implacable cliff comes to mind. 

Technoblade deflects the first fist and takes the wrist of the followup, twisting his arm behind his back. Tommy shrieks in rage and attempts to rip his arm away. Techno releases him and steps forward. "Sorry, but you ain't winnin' this." 

"I will fucking end you!" Tommy once more flies into the fray. 

Technoblade decides to go slightly harder on him. He sends Tommy stumbling with a single smack to his shoulder. When Tommy tries to flail fists at him again, Techno trips the boy. Tommy's back slams into the pavement, air whoofing out of his lungs. 

"Y-you fuckin'-" Tommy wheezes for air. "I will not lose to you-" 

"Looks like it's too late for that," Technoblade chuffs, watching the boy as he struggles to his feet. 

Tommy sneers at him. "I, I'm feeling fuckin' merciful today. I won't kill you this time." 

"I suppose I can return the favor." Technoblade smirks. He turns his back on Tommy to rub in how little of a threat the teen is. Not that Tommy will understand the gesture, but it boosts Techno's ego and makes chat jeer. 

Tubbo and the other youth, a sales rep by the name of Ranboo, stride over. "That was sick!" Ranboo cries, eyes aflame with hero-worship as he stares at Technoblade. 

Tubbo smiles implacably as he pulls Tommy to his feet. "Win next time, big guy. I lost five dollars to Ranboo on that." 

"Fuck you, Ranboo," Tommy snarls, clinging to Tubbo's arm even as he's standing. "Bet on me, next time!" 

"But you lost! I think that's pretty funny." Ranboo glances back up at the windows of the office. Several pairs of eyes seem to be peering down. Great. An audience to Technoblade's last few moments of employment. 

Tommy grumbles as he storms to the doors, "I'll fucking beat you next time, Techno, see if I don't!" 

The phrasing seems odd, in that it implies Technoblade isn't about to be fired for beating up his teenage coworker. 

[txtdiaries]

Dear No One - One Shot

SUMMARY | All your life, it always felt like something was missing. Every single day, in every action you did and in every place you went, it just always felt off. But maybe, just maybe, you aren’t the only one feeling this way...

PAIRING | Soobin X Reader

CATEGORY | soulmate au, distance, sadness, loneliness.

WORD COUNT | 2.6k

WARNINGS | none

SONG REC | Dear No One - Tori Kelly

I like being independent Not so much of an investment No one to tell me what to do

From a young age, you had always been on your own. From childhood to adulthood, it had always been that way. It wasn’t all bad, though, it was just something you got used to over time. It aided your independence, made you work hard and focus on things you needed to work on, and made you stronger. It was easy to get things done without distractions, and while all the other kids on the playground played tag with their crushes, or sat in the grass sharing secret pecks with eachother, you were inside, nosed buried in a book.

Being on your own was simple. No one controlling you, or annoying you with their demands. It was easy.

It was lonely sometimes, of course it was, but it was easy to push the feeling aside when you got older. When the longing feeling started getting easier to recognize, when it got easier to dismiss it.

It got easy to ignore it, but it was never easy to forget it.

I like being by myself Don't gotta entertain anybody else No one to answer to

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Your best friend asks you from the doorway a final time, watching you cross-legged on your bed, texbooks sprawled out in front of you.

“I’m sure.” You say, still highlighting a passage from your literature book.

“But... it’s the winter dance. And I heard Mark’s gonna be there!” She squeals, fixing her shiny lip gloss in her tiny phone screen reflection. It was just a middle school dance, and you could see right through it’s false appeal.

You just shake your head. You knew the feeling all too well. The guilt, the feeling of rejecting boys because as much as you tried, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t be with them. Because, at the end of the day, it never felt right. They weren’t it. Nothing more to say about it.

“I hope you have a nice time,” You give your friend a small smile, “Slow dance with Mark for me.”

Your best friend gives you a sad look and then she’s off, brightly colored outfit flashing through the doorway. Your gaze lingers on where she just was, and then it drops back down to your work, your heart shattering noiselessly in your chest simultaneously. 

But sometimes, I just want somebody to hold Someone to give me the jacket when its cold Got that young love even when we're old

“What are we doing to celebrate passing the calculus test?” Your best friend of countless years asks you, turning left down her street a bit harshly. She had barely passed her drivers test and was still learning that you were supposed to break before turning. It was a work in progress. The ache in your shoulder from being thrown against the inside of the car door countless times reminded you of that.

“Dunno, we can do whatever,” You answered honestly, “Maybe a movie night-”

“Oh my god, why is Mark in my driveway?” She shrieks excitedly, braking extremely hard before throwing the car in park, stumbling out of the car before you’re even able to catch your breath.

You watch from inside of the car, that familiar feeling growing inside of you all at once. Just when you think it may be gone - it returns - unwelcome and frothing at the mouth.

Their words are muffled, but you don’t need to hear them in order to know what is going on. 

They’re happy. 

They’re all wide smiles and entangled limbs as they pull eachother closer, and for a second you wonder if it’s supposed to be like that. Like loving someone so much you can’t physically stand to be apart from them that much. Like it’d kill to even be an inch apart. You wonder if that’s what it would be like for you.

You watch them kiss from inside the car, and you can physically feel the difference in atmosphere. You watch quietly as your best friend kisses her boyfriend, the one she’s able to confidently call hers after liking since the early age of twelve, before pushing the feeling down relentlessly. 

Without another word you step out of the car and walk past them, muttering a, “I’ll see you at school.” Before you’re gone.

But the thing is - you’ve already been miles away. Even when you were in the car with your best friend, and even when you’re right next to her. Because that’s always what you are. Far far away.

Yeah sometimes, I want someone to grab my hand Pick me up, pull me close, be my man I will love you till the end

“You aren’t going to find a boyfriend by sitting inside and reading romance novels all day,” Your best friend comments, putting the finishing touches on her mascara before fixing her hair in your bedroom mirror, “Just saying.”

You bite back the urge to roll your eyes, and instead lock your gaze on the passage you’re reading.

“You already know how I feel about relationships.” You say quielty, not looking up.

She slings her jacket over her shoulders. Black leather, color matching the short, tight dress she adorns over her thin figure.

“If I’m going to get Mark to take me back, he needs to see that I’m happy without him,” She explains, even though you didn’t ask, “Then he’ll realize what he’s missing.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” You ask, eyes still scanning the lines of the book in your hands.

“Are you seriously trying to give me relationship advice like that, especially when you’ve never even-” You cut her words off.

“I’m just trying to help.” You say, finally snapping your book shut.

Your friend shakes her head at you before grabbing her purse.

“Well, I know what I’m doing. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says before exiting the room quickly. You hear her car roar to life and pull out of the drive way after a little bit, and the pounding of her music grows more and more muffled as she gets farther away, the sound finally dissappearing after she pulls away from the street.

You take a look at the book in your hands, and the dread claws its’ way up your throat.

Before you know it, you’re using all of the force you can muster to throw the book across the room, feeling your heart snap in two.

Without a second thought, you turn your lamp off and bury yourself under your piles of blankets, shutting your eyes tightly.

Because that’s how it goes. This feeling you’ve grown to resent. What was once an aid in helping you achieve things you needed to, now latched onto you, like an annoying scar or weights attached at the ankles. This was your burden to carry, and no one could help you. Not even yourself. It was your life sentence - a life without love. A life of longing. It was yours, and nobody else’s. You could wish that it didn’t have to be this way, that maybe timing was just wrong, but you knew better. You always knew better. So instead, you did nothing. 

Nothing but lay there, tears streaking down your face silently, as despair resonates in the pit of your stomach, sending you down a dark, spiraling hole, causing you to wonder if you’ll ever be able to surface again. 

So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', for my future someone

“College is the time for new beginnings!” Your mother cheers as she watches you pile your belongings into your small, old car on your own. 

You nod at her gently, giving her a gentle smile, “I’ll make sure to call every other day.”

She wipes at her eyes and pulls you in for a tight hug, “Just update me when you can. And don’t live in your dorm room either, make some friends!”

I have friends, you wanted to say, but singular does not count as plural, so you choose to nod at her instead, agreeing to empty promises before her very eyes. 

In a whirlwind of emotion, and a lot of tears, you’re on the road, merging onto the freeway.

The radio plays softly, and the lyrics resonate deeply within your chest. You let out a long sigh and sing along to the lyrics, trying to ignore just how empty the passenger seat next to you looks and feels, almost mocking you silently.

Because what else could you do? All you really had was yourself in these moments, you knew that by now.

You sing along, a single tear falling down your cheek.

“Cause when the time is right You'll be here, but for now Dear no one, this is your love song.”

I don't really like big crowds I tend to shut people out I like my space, yeah

“It’s one party,” Your roommate of two weeks explains, looking down at you pleadingly, “It could be fun?”

You run a hand through your hair and yawn tiredly, “Thank you for the offer but parties and me? We don’t mix.” 

She gives you a sad smile and nods understandingly.

“I have my key so don’t worry about waiting up. Have a good night.”

And then she’s gone. Leaving you alone, with the softness of your music flowing through the small dorm room. 

College will be different, you tell yourself, as if it hasn’t already started yet.

It will be different. It has to be. Or else, what are you going to do?

But I'd love to have a soul mate And God will give him to me someday And I know it'll be worth the wait

Of course you got asked out at first, everyone did. Everyone you talked to did. And some people took up the offers, your roommate especially. She was classified as a social butterfly, and it showed. 

Spending nights in was your thing, and spending nights out was hers. And that was fine. It was fine. Neither of you minded the other, and you had a stable friendship. You just had different habits.

“So who’s your date tonight?” You ask curiously, furiously typing on your laptop to complete the essay that was due the next time you had your literature class. You spot her in the mirror, applying a thick layer of eyeliner, before your eyes find your screen again.

“Some guy who got set up by his friend, “ She chuckles, “It’s a blind date. His friend told me that he needed to see someone or else he’d go crazy. His words, not the date’s.”

You nod at her words, barely listening as you focus on your word structure for the essay. You did think it was nice that the friend was trying to set his friend up at least. You hoped your roommate had fun. After a few more minutes of the two of you exchanging small talk, she slipped her coat on and gave herself one last look in the mirror.

“What’s his name?” You ask, finally saving your essay as you look over at her.

“Huh?”

“The blind date. Don’t you have to know his name to know who he is?”

“Oh right,” She shakes her head, “Soobin. His name’s Soobin.”

So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', for my future someone Cause when the time is right

You'll be here, but for now Dear no one, this is your love song

“Worst date of my life.” Your roommate groans into her coffee cup, causing a library worker to glare her way. You grin at her before tilting your head. 

“That bad?”

“No, he wasn’t bad,” She explains, “We were just so different. Which is sad because he was cute. Like, cute, cute.”

You shrug at her, “Oh well, you’ll find a cuter guy who you actually relate too and it’ll be fine.”

She smiles at you and then catches sight of something in the distance. You furrow your brows.

“What, who is it-”

“No one.” She hisses, grabbing your arm to get you to look at her again before she hides her face.

You pull your hand back and try to hide your laughter. Your roommate was very over the top, and she had no problem showing it.

“I need to go look for a book for my lit class, I’ll be back.” You announce, your laughter finally dying down.

“Hurry please, I wanna get outta here.” She answers back, slipping her phone out of her pocket. You nod and dissappear down one of the aisles quickly. 

The shelves are piled high with hundreds of books, and the quietness that engulfs you is calming. 

It is moments like this that you appreciate. No miserable feeling - no lonely feeling. If anything it feels lighter in this moment than you can ever remember it feeling, which is new, but you don’t dare question it.

Sometimes, when it’s not as heavy, you can almost tolerate it. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life. Granted, the distractions you need to keep the emotions down are endless, almost obsessive, but it’s better than the alternative. Being utterly and completely alone.

Because no one wants that. Not even you.

With your newfound peace, and a small grin on your face, you reach up to grab a book from one of the shelves, fingers barely grazing it.

“Oh!” A deep voice let’s out, and suddenly you’re losing your balance and falling to the right.

“I-”

“I’m sorry!” The deep voice apologizes quickly, grabbing your wrist to stable you.

Dear no one No need to be searching, no

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking.” You say suddenly - and then your words are stolen from your lips, forcefully pulled from your mind.

The boy, now directly in front of you, is still holding onto your wrist, and for a second you think that maybe he’s got something wrong with him or maybe something on him because he’s touching your skin and it is tingling under his touch. And that can’t be normal.

You look down to see nothing but long slender fingers holding onto you and then back up. The boy notices and retracts his hand, covering his face in embarrassment.

“I didn’t see you, I really am sorry.” He says quietly, round glasses reflecting the bright lights above the two of you as soon as he lets his hands drop from his face. His eyes are a dark brown behind the frames, and you look down for a moment.

Your heart is beating in your chest, against your ribcage agonizingly, and you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t know what is happening.

You study the way the boy’s dark hair covers his forehead when you look back up, and his dimples curve into his cheek deeply as he bites his lip nervously. 

And in that moment, somehow, everything clicks.

This boy in front of you, the feeling of his touch still lingering on your skin.

It feels like he’s been like this, facing you for your whole life, and you don’t know how it’s ever been any different.

You blink multiple times in shock, and he’s staring at you like he knows what you both do, like he feels the exact same thing.

“I’m Soobin.” He says briskly, like it’s the only thing he needs to say in the moment, even though you didn’t ask for his name.

“Y/N.” You mutter, staring into his eyes.

He nods softly, knowingly, at your words.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says, and then horror flashes in his eyes as if he’s just heard his confession.

He knows. He definitely knows.

Because soulmates always know. And this isn’t any different.

“It is,” You say before he can overthink it too much, and because your heart is pounding so fast you feel like you need to say something before you combust.

“Finally.”

Dear no one This is your love song