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gojonanami · 14 hours

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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 ❞

❝ SATORU GOJO HAS LOVED YOU SINCE YOU WERE KIDS - HE’S GONNA MAKE YOU HIS ! ❞

✧ series: call it what you want (part one)

✧ pairing: younger!satoru gojo x reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo fell in love with you from the moment he met you at eight years old. and now, in his twenties, when he sees you again after you move back to be closer to your aunt and your cousin, suguru, he knows — he has to make you his by the end of the summer.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, eventual smut, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, fake dating, gojo is four years younger than you, rich boy!gojo, suguru is your little cousin, very fluffy, slow burn, like they don't even kiss, but they will :), love at first sight for gojo, naoya is your ex,

✧ w/c: 15,285

“Never thought we’d be doing this, did you?” Satoru muttered in your ear, breath fanning hot against your neck, “be a little quieter, sweetheart, otherwise Suguru might hear us,”

You whine, but his fingers drag against your kiss bitten lips, until the digits slide into your mouth, as his hips rut against yours. And you didn’t think you’d ever be in position with your cousin’s best friend — pressed to the doorway of your apartment where Suguru could walk in at anytime.

This isn't what you thought would happen when you invited him over to talk. This isn't what you thought would happen when you agreed to pretend to date him. This isn't what you thought about -- but how could you think about anything with the way his breath felt against your skin?

He loved you -- loved you since you were kids, and he couldn't let you go, not like this. Not when he had you.

Not that you even wanted him to.

You didn’t think you’d shiver as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck, tongue flicking against your burning skin. You never thought you’d want to moan his name, like you had, far too many times.

“You may have never thought about this, Princess, but I sure have,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, the wet sounds your skin slapping together, as he reaches around your body, pinned on your stomach to the mattress, to rub at your swollen clit, drawing a muffled cry from your lips, “far too many times,”

In fact, Satoru Gojo knew exactly the first time he fell for you. It was the day he first met you.

“Be my girlfriend!”

It was less of a question and more of a statement.

One declared in the doorway of your room, with flushed cheeks and flowers in hand. And they weren’t your cheeks or hands, but your baby cousin’s best friend.

The first time Satoru Gojo asked you out was at the ripe old age of eleven, but truth be told he had held this crush since the moment he saw you when he had come over to Suguru’s house for the first time, almost three years ago now.

Your fingers brushed his as you gently took the flowers, “Satoru, you know I care about you, but not like that. You’re better off seeing other people your own age, ok?” You smiled at him, the same way you always did, a slight pout on his lips as he nodded, saying nothing more.

And you knew you were right — there was no fucking question that you were right. He was eleven and you were fifteen — an age gap untenable and unreachable.

But now—

“Long time no see,” Satoru said, lips curled in an all too cocky smile that you couldn’t believe belonged to the same blushing kid who confessed so earnestly back then, “it’s been too long,” your name rolled off his tongue with a familiarity that was the same but all too different.

But he wasn’t a kid anymore — far from it. It had been over a decade since you had seen him, as the summer he confessed was the last one you had spent at your aunt and uncle’s home. And you and your family moved overseas shortly after that, and you didn’t return until now, four years after you graduated college, for a job offer you couldn’t pass up.

And you didn’t realize that so much time had passed.

But he did.

“Eh? What do you mean you can’t help me unpack today, Sugu?” you hold the phone between your ear and shoulder, as you rip open the tape on yet another box you had hauled into the proper room to unpack, “you told me—“

“I told you I’d help you unpack if I had time. But now, I’m stuck at work until the evening,” you heard your cousin sigh over the phone, “But don’t worry — you’ll have help—“

You’re too busy trying to rip the tape off as you rip into Suguru to notice the door creaking open behind you, “Suguru, I swear to god if you’re sending a total random stranger to help me—“

“Not a total stranger,” a voice says behind you, and your head whips around so quick, you nearly drop your phone, gripping it, “unless not seeing me for years makes me one,”

A mess of white locks and sunglasses tilted downward to reveal a hint of his cerulean eyes that you could never forget — but still, you barely recognize the man that has them. Even if the grin on his lips with the lilting sound of his voice told you that he very much recognized you.

“Satoru?” Suguru’s explanation falls on deaf ears, as Satoru’s eyes don’t bother to take in your new place, all too focused on you, hands slipping into his pockets, “you—“

He steps forward and plucks the phone from your fingers, “Yo Suguru, I told you it’d be better as a surprise,” and you gape at him, as his grin curls wider, “yeah, yeah, I didn’t take the phone to have you lecturing me — I get enough of that from my dad,” and Suguru says something that makes Satoru’s cheeks flush, and he hangs up, before his attention returns to you, “so, shall we unpack?”

A few minutes turns into hours of hauling boxes inside and then unpacking them. It’s relatively silent, surprisingly for Satoru. The silence was a far cry from the boy who couldn’t shut up for two seconds, telling you about the test he aced or something stupid that one of his classmates said or asking you about your day.

Instead you watch him haul boxes like they were filled with styrofoam and air from the truck outside, and then lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, a flash of his abs shiny with perspiration. Your eyes dart away, suddenly incredibly fascinated with the contents of this box of kitchenware you opened up, cheeks burning, wondering when did the little boy you looked after become a man?

“Princess, where do you want this?” Satoru lifts a box, and you can’t see the writing on it from the angle he picks it up.

“Do you still have to call me Princess?” The embarrassing nickname your aunt had given you still stuck — the one that Suguru would always tease you with, while Satoru’s decidedly lacked any malice, “my aunt only called me that because she wanted a girl so bad,”

“Is that why Suguru is growing out his hair now? Trying to fulfill her dreams?” You snort, as you walk over to him, “it still fits you regardless of the reason Princess,”

You’re close, even with the box providing glancing around the box until you find it scrawled on the box underneath his arm — his very…muscular arm, veins bulging and muscles tense underneath the weight of the box—

“So this is stuff for my bedroom, you can just leave it on the floor, it’s right over here,” you lead him over and he places down the box, “I think that’s mostly it, I’m sorry Suguru made you come down here to help,”

“You don’t need to apologize, I wanted to see you,” and you smile softly, “it’s been too long,”

“It really has,” and your neck strains a little with how he towered over you, “can't believe you’re the same little boy I used to babysit,”

And he rolls his eyes, “Suguru would say it’s arguable I could still use a babysitter,” and you chuckle, “I’m not so little anymore, but I wouldn’t mind if you were my babysitter,”

Was he? No. No, he wasn’t.

Right?

“Stop fucking around,” you shake your head, as you head into the kitchen, “do you want to wash up, and then maybe I’ll order take out to thank you?” You’re turning on the faucet.

You don’t notice the slight pout on his lips, one he schools into a smile as you glance back at him, blinking as you find him shirtless.

Fuck. How was it possible for a person to be this gorgeous? Sweat slid down his body, slipping between the dips of his chest and ridges of his abs until disappearing into the fabric of his pants, or somewhere hidden—

You look away — “I’d rather take a shower. Do you mind?” And you force your voice not to come out a squeak, busying yourself with washing your hands, just so you don’t have to look.

“Yeah, of course, the bathroom is just around the corner. There should already be fresh towels inside,” and yet his steps grow closer, as you glance back, “uh—“

He’s still fucking shirtless.

“Instead of take out, can we grab dinner somewhere? You haven’t been back to the area recently so it’s a good chance to show you around,”

“You really don’t have to—“

“I want to, Princess,” he cuts you off, reaching around you to grab a water bottle off the counter, “get ready while I clean up?”

And you bite your lip, “Okay, okay,” and he grins back, a glimpse of the little boy that beams at you when you’d praise him for a high mark on a test.

“It’s a date!” And he’s off, disappearing into the bathroom, and you’re left there, wondering — what had you gotten yourself into?

~~~

“So,” Satoru lifts a spoonful of his dessert — a fruit parfait with a sugar coma inducing amount of whipped cream — and you were almost relieved to see some things about him hadn’t changed. How many times had you scolded him as a kid not to eat so much sugar — and he still hasn’t kicked the habit. You bit back your chuckle, as he spoke, “did you get dumped?”

You almost choke on your drink, as you splutter for a moment, before glaring at him.

And yet the more they stayed the same.

“I see you’re as subtle as you were when you were 11,” you mutter, setting your drink down, as you wipe your mouth with a napkin. Satoru tilts his head, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“So you dumped him?” He leans back, “I didn’t know you had such high standards,” your cheeks burn, distracting yourself with becoming enthralled in the menu — Satoru had dragged you to a hole in the wall barbecue place (after your insistence that you didn’t want anything fancy after unpacking for hours).

“How did you know I broke—“ and you cut yourself off at the obviousness of the answer, slapping another piece of meat on the grill, the sizzle punctuated by your words, “I’m going to murder him,”

“Well, you’re in the right place to dispose of his body,” Satoru licks the spoon clean, before sticking it back in the whipped cream, “why did you break up with him?”

You shrugged, “I realized he was a narcissistic prick who only wanted me as a trophy,” and Satoru whistled lowly, “I’m done with dating losers. And dating in general,”

“I don’t think you should give up on dating just because you had a few bad experiences,” his voice grows soft, “you deserve to be happy and taken care of, even if you have bad taste,”

And you pout, “I don’t have-“ and he tilts his head, and you lift a few pieces of meat from the grill onto your plate, tongs clattering slightly as you set it down, “fuck, I do,” you groan, shaking your head, “that’s why I had to get out of there. Just needed a fresh start you know?”

“Sometimes that’s just what you need,” and your lips curl.

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” and his eyes flit up to yours, gleaming in the low light of the restaurant, cerulean irises catching the drops of light like comets across his gaze.

“Don’t know what you mean, Princess,” he busies himself with his parfait, and you scoff.

“Come on, half the girls in this place are glaring at me while I sit here, the waitress has been flirting with you, and now they had brought you out the biggest dessert that I’m starting to wonder if they even serve it here,” he spares a glance around, several gasps from giggling girls who avert their gazes, before his eyes are back on you.

“Jealous?” You roll your eyes — he wasn’t lacking for ego at least.

“More like wondering what a guy like you is still doing single,” and he sighs, leaning back, with a tilt of his head.

“You sure are curious about me,” and his gaze softens for a moment, while he picks at his dessert, scooping the strawberry off the top, “there’s only really been one person that I really wanted,” his tone grew more serious, lips in a bittersweet smile, “but she’s never really looked me like that,”

“Don’t tell me it’s one of those things where she rejected you and you have to have her now,” and he chuckles, shaking his head, gaze far too wistful.

His words are slow, as slow as the ice melting in your glass, “It’s more of if I don’t have her, I don’t want anyone else,” and your heart squeezed — would you ever have someone care so deeply for you?

“Then why haven’t you said anything?” you picked up another piece of meat off the grill, “anyone would be lucky to be with you,” and you meant it — he was blunt, but also kind, sweet, not to mention rich and you flushed as you thought back to his hiked up shirt — good looking.

But he only stares back at you, tilting his head — expression unreadable, an emotion you can’t grasp before it’s hidden under his gaze’s tempered waters, “Are you included, Princess?”

There’s a pause, as you almost chuckle, but your laugh dying in your throat at his expression — that same smirk, but the way he looks at you stops your mind in its tracks — only one word rolling around in your head: what?

And your brow furrows, your lips parting in a response you don’t have — only questions, ones you don’t get to ask as Suguru slides in beside you.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Suguru sighs, the moment broken, and you don’t catch Satoru’s expression, too distracted by your cousin, “got stuck in a staff meeting,”

“I told you academia is hell,” you elbow him, and Suguru rolls his eyes, as he shrugs off his suit coat, “were these meetings the reasons you got held up or are they just an excuse so you didn’t have to help me?”

“Who said it can’t be both?” And he earns a smack to his shoulder, your attention turning back to Satoru, his gaze fixed outside.

“You’re unusually quiet, Satoru” Suguru kicks him lightly under the table, “not like you,”

He looks at you first — and you grasp the emotion he had hid before — what was it? Sadness? Longing? — right before it’s gone again as he slides his mask back on, grinning as he always does.

“What can I say? The view outside is much better than your ugly mug,” and the two of them begin to bicker, and you lean back in your seat, a smile pulling at your lips, even as you glanced back at Satoru.

And now you wondered if you would ever get an answer to your questions. Or maybe, you sipped your drink, it was better not to have it answered at all.

~~~

Satoru Gojo was eleven years old when he fell in love with you. It was from the moment he met you.

And there hasn’t been anyone else since.

He supposed it was inevitable in a way — since Suguru was his best friend, and his first, and when his family finally decided to enroll him in school, instead opting for private tutors, for the social aspect of making connections, of course. Because what else was your eleven year old son good for then helping to make future business deals easier?

But Satoru made friends with the one person who couldn’t help their deals — Suguru Geto, one of the only scholarship students in the entire school. And Satoru’s want to avoid spending his days with servants or on the rare occasion, dealing with his dad’s lecture for getting in another ‘disagreement’ with one of his classmates (that ended with that classmate crying after Satoru evaded his punch and kicked him in the shin), ended up with him at Suguru’s place. A lot.

Then soon enough, he was spending most of his summers there too. And that’s when he saw you.

“You said your cousin’s here? Is she nice?” Satoru asked, taking off his shoes, as Suguru shut the door behind them.

“She is, except when she’s being a pain about homework. And when she gets mad, she reminds me of my mom,” Suguru grimaced, as he walked past him, calling out for you. You rounded the corner, book in hand, and Satoru’s eyes grew wide.

“Hey Sugu, you brought a friend?” You walked over, still clad in your high school uniform, before introducing yourself, and offering him a warm smile, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Suguru’s cousin,”

Satoru didn’t know what this feeling was — and he wouldn’t until a few more summers passed, and his hormones kicked in — but all he knew was that he would do anything to see you smile like that at him again. And he did — he would spend as much time as he could with you — talking to you about a test he aced, about something funny that happened at school, or even ratting on Suguru about what he was up to (earning him many knocks to the head by his best friend). But every time you smiled or laughed, it was worth it — worth every second he spent counting down the time to summer break so he could see you again.

But he didn’t know his seconds would run out so soon — and he only learned one random day going home with Suguru, from a snippet of a conversation he had with his mom.

“I know, I know she’s coming next week,” Satoru’s interest hadn’t been peaked by Suguru’s conversation until then, because he knew exactly who they were talking about. After all, you always came right at the start of break, and finally he could see you again — and maybe this time, he could tell you how he felt.

“I know, I know it’s her last time here so it has to be perfect,” and Satoru’s head snapped back to Suguru, last time? “I will,” and Suguru hangs up, a sigh on his lips, “my mom is being so annoying about my cousin. So what it’s her last time staying with us? It doesn’t mean we have to—“

“What do you mean it’s her last time?” Satoru kept his tone steady and slow, even as his heart thrummed against his ribs as if it was a xylophone, “she always comes every summer—“

“Of high school,” Suguru corrected him, “she is applying to university this year — most of them are abroad, and it seems likely she won’t be back in Japan, not for a while,” Suguru continued to complain on their way back to his place, but all Satoru could do was think about you.

It was your last summer with him. His last chance to make a move, to be something more than your younger cousin’s friend. His last chance to make you see him as a man, not a kid.

He had to confess, his fingers curled into fists, before the end of the summer. He would make you his girlfriend — one way or another.

And he did confess back then, Satoru thought, as he picked up a photo, wrinkled and yellowed at the corners, a picture that Suguru’s mom had taken of you and him the summer you had left. A candid of him and you looking at each other — one that Suguru’s mom had slipped to him with a knowing smile and a wink (one that had mortified him as a teenager).

He was always looking at you — no matter where he was, his eyes always found your form, a magnet to its opposite pole, and he didn’t know how to stop you from drawing him in. It had been over a decade and he still couldn’t.

He stared at your smiling face, the very same face that had looked at you with a smile fading to confusion this evening. He had gotten so close to asking you — to telling you how he felt — and he flips to the next picture, a scowl on his face as a picture of him and Suguru with his smug smile stared back at him. If only fucking Suguru hadn’t interrupted.

He shook his head, flipping back to his picture of you. This wasn’t the summer and he wasn’t a kid anymore. And you weren’t out of his reach, bound for another country across the ocean. No, you were here — only a short drive away.

And he made a promise to himself — he would get you to fall in love with him, before the end of this summer.

~~~

You hate first days.

“Did you see the guy waiting outside?” one woman whispered not so softly as you passed by.

“Yeah looks like he’s waiting for her,” the other’s lips formed a frown but only to hide her smirk.

From the time you were a kid, your first day of school was something you had all the time from your family moving around. You were always the new kid — the one who would be met with wide eyes and curiosity, only to be tossed aside a few days later.

But this was a fresh start that you had wanted — a new job far away from where you had started, with new responsibilities — a first day you had looked forward to, until it went so downhill.

And it was all your ex’s fault.

You texted Suguru — is it too early to quit on the first day?

He replies, well it’s been four hours, think you’ve lasted through one of my dad’s long winded stories longer than that. What happened?

You glanced outside towards the front of the building. It was more like ‘who happened?’

It was an innocuous enough morning, of introductions, trainings, orientation, and finally computer set up. You were rifling through your paperwork, trying to figure out what sheet looked the least daunting when someone called for you.

“There’s someone looking for you outside the lobby,” you saw a flurry of looks shared and smirks shot in your direction, and when you arrived downstairs you knew why.

What. The. Fuck.

You couldn’t help it. You bursted outside, “what are you doing here?” It was your ex — the very same ex who had started at the same overseas company after you both graduated and the one you had. And again, had chosen to follow you here.

“Waiting for you to change yer mind,” Naoya tilts his head, hands in his pocket, “and I know you will, because you love me,” he raises his voice to catch the eye of several passerby, and you grab his wrist, dragging him away.

“Fuck off,” you hiss under your breath, “I told you it’s over, and don’t you have a fucking job?”

“Did you forget? I’m rich, another reason ya can’t do better than me,” Naoya’s lips curl into that same grin, one you knew as charming once, until you saw past his pretty pink lips and glimpsed the sharp fangs behind them, “I took time off. Did ya think it was a coincidence we ended up at the same company?”

You gritted your teeth, “Naoya—“ and he breaks from your grip, instead his fingers dig into your wrist.

“All ya are is me. All that you have is me. And all you will have is me,” he dared closer, breath warming your lips, as he took hold of your other wrist and tugged you close, “the sooner you accept that, the better, doll,”

‘Doll.’ The term of endearment you had seen as precious to you. Something you always loved to hear roll off his tongue, the word you had learned to learned to reply to, even more than your own name. The one you regarded with such love had burned, burned until the flames licked your skin and knew what it really meant — a doll with strings, one he was meant to be the master of.

“Don’t call me that,” you rip your hands away, “leave. You’re embarrassing yourself,”

“Am I?” He tilts his head, jerking his head in the direction of your building where your offices had a clear view of this, “or am I just embarrassing you?”

You stared out the window for a moment and you knew he was still out there — judging but the way your phone was on the verge of suicide by notification, he was still very much there. And now, all people would know of you is the new worker with a crazy stalker ex.

I’m calling the police, Suguru’s text popped up, what’s your workplace’s address?

You think I hadn’t thought of that, Sugu? You sigh, he’s not doing anything. He’s on a public sidewalk. They can’t do anything to him.

Another text: when do you get out? You glance at the time, seeing another two coworkers whisper to each other, stealing looks.

An eternity — In another two hours.

I’ll handle it. Just wait in the lobby after work. And you frown.

Sugu, I can handle it. I don’t need you to come down here.

You always fought your battles. You didn’t need anything else to — or anyone else to pick them for you. Not even your baby cousin — no matter how sweet his intentions were.

Don’t worry. I’m not coming down. And you frown, staring at the text, before your phone rings, and you groan as ‘Assistant Director’ flashes on the screen.

You were so fired.

You weren’t — as you shut the door of his office behind you. However, he did advise you that this company had a strict no nonsense policy and did want personal drama to be dredged up in the office. And you were given the day to sort out your “mess.”

You scrub a hand down your face, but it wasn’t even your mess, and how would you fix it? He wasn’t going to listen to you. You sit at your desk, packing up your bag for the day. And your phone vibrates.

Come down.

You hesitate, But he’s still downstairs.

Just go.

Fuck. You sling your bag over your shoulder, piercing eyes digging into your back, vultures circling an already dead carcass, whispering still even as the elevators doors shut.

And you almost wish they never opened when you see what’s waiting for you outside.

Fuck.

You grit your teeth, stomach in absolute knots as if to brace yourself for the complete shitstorm you’re about to deal with.

“Satoru?”

Satoru Gojo leaned back against his expensive (likely imported) car, shiny as it was new, sunglasses glinting in the light, but not brighter than the grin he gives you. He holds out your favorite drink, a tilt of his head.

“Are you ready to go?”

You glance around, as he places the drink in your hand, “But what about—“

“Let go of me!”

Satoru’s lips curl, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, “Oh, I’ve gotten him handled,”

Naoya stood between two men restraining him, both in suits, as his face contorted in anger, veins bulging, eyes darting between the two of you, “Do you know who I am? I’m the heir to the Zenin Corporation — you cannot treat me like this. I’ll have you—“

“Heir? Really?” Satoru stepped forward, blocking him from your view, “is that right? I thought the Zenin hadn’t decided announced a successor yet,”

You furrow your brow — how does Satoru— but then you’re being put into a car with Satoru’s arm curled around your waist, as he opens the door and tucks you into the passenger seat.

And now you won’t know. At least not now.

Naoya scoffed, “And who are you to know anything about—“

“Have you heard of the Six Eyes Corp,” and Naoya’s eyes narrow, “you should have because we account for a large chunk of your business. And if that support were to disappear,” he flashes his blue eyes at him over the rim of his sunglasses, “I’d hate to tell them it’s because of this,”

“You fucking liar, like you could tell anyone anything—“

Satoru chuckles, “You’re right, I am a liar,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I don’t need to tell anyone. Except my father,”

Naoya’s sneer fades into confusion, his eyes narrowed, “Don’t fucking tell me—”

“Then I won’t,” he steps forward, hands slipping into his pockets, “but if you ever step in her presence again,” he jerks his head towards you in his car, “then I will, and you don’t wanna know what happens if I do,” he steps in front of Naoya, back blocking your view so you don’t see him grab Naoya’s wrist, blue eyes aflame with something far deeper than anger, “because it will much worse,” he squeezes Naoya’s wrist hard making him flinch as he grits his teeth at Satoru’s smiling face, “who knows? Maybe I’ll break your wrist next time.”

He turns around, waving off the guards, as he makes his way back to his car, sliding into the driver’s seat, smile fading to concern.

“Are you alright, Princess?” You’re watching those people drag Naoya away, his hateful gaze trying and failing to get a last look at you as the guard takes a hand to the back of his head to force his gaze forward.

“Where are they taking him?”

Satoru starts the car, the quiet rumble of the engine filling the silence of his pause, “just to the proper authorities. He won’t bother you again,”

You bit your bottom lip, eyes burning with tears — and you don’t know whether if it’s embarrassment or relief, “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” and your eyes slide to his, a soft smile on his lips, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about. Or to thank me for,” he cuts you off as your lips part, “is your wrist okay?”

You glance down and see the slight redness still lingered, a final parting gift, and your other hand closes over the wrist, “it hurts a little, but I’ll ice it when I get home,”

“We’ll go to a hospital to have it looked at,” and you’re shaking your head.

“I don’t want to sit—“

“Then I’ll hire a doctor to come see you,” and you stare at him, as he rolls to a stop at a red light…is that a pout? “I just want you to be ok, Princess, please,”

You bite back a small smile, and ignore the flutter in your heart, “Fine, you win, let’s go to a walk-in clinic,” and you spot his shoulders relax, “but it’s not really fair when you give me your infamous pout,”

He raises an eyebrow, “‘Infamous?’”

“You used to whip that out all the time on me and on my aunt when you were a kid — it did always work,”

“Not always,” he replies, as he turns into the parking for the walk-in clinic, “in fact, I remember a time that it specifically did not work,”

“And when was that?” You tilt your head.

And he smiles, “When I asked you to be my girlfriend,” and you furrow your brow, nearly forgetting the memory, until it hits you.

“Oh my god, the last summer I spent here,” you covered your mouth with the tips of your fingers, a chuckle on your lips, “you were very direct,”

“I could say the same about you,” and you roll your eyes.

“You were a kid. You were way too young for me, you know that,” you unbuckle your seatbelt, “plus now I bet you could get any person you want. That’s why I was surprised why you didn’t have a girlfriend,”

“Like I said, there’s only one woman in the world for me,” his eyes find yours, cerulean bathed in sunlight, light catching across his irises, “and only one woman I ever wanted to be with,”

Oh.

No, no, that couldn’t be it — you couldn’t be her, not after all this time—

You blink, “Satoru, you don’t—“

“Well our age difference isn’t a problem anymore is it?” Your brain is struggling to process, lips parting with no words, “Princess,” his fingers brush yours, gently grazing your hand, as your gaze finds his again, “when are you going to take me seriously?”

“Satoru—“

“Just don’t say no,” Satoru cuts you off, pulling his hand away, “don’t say no and think about it,” you open your mouth only to waver at the sight of the pout on his lips and you sigh.

It was hard to say no, especially right now.

“Okay I won’t say no,” you slip from the car, lips breaking into a wide grin, before sticking your head inside, “don’t smile like that. It’s not a yes,” you huff, cheeks burning and stomach erupting in butterflies.

“Not yet,” Satoru says as you shut the door, “not yet, Princess.”

~~~

“Huh? You did what?”

You loved your aunt. You really did. She and her husband had taken you in when your parents were too busy working to properly take care of you during the summers. But times like this reminded you—

—-she truly was her mother’s sister.

“Well your mother was telling me that you haven’t dated anyone since you’ve been back—“

“It's only been a month!” You had barely finished getting unpacked, and in fact, you still had at least five boxes still stacked up in the closet, “I’m not interested in dating, I’m trying to focus on work,” you rubbed the back of your head, “new topic, please,” as you sip on your drink.

And after the debacle Naoya had caused, you needed to — you had put up with the whispers and stares for a few days, but since Naoya had stayed away, the rumors faded with time. Now things had died down for the most part. Except for—

“Has Satoru still been picking you up?” You nearly do a spit take, but instead you choke down the water, coughing, “eh? Are you okay, honey?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” your cheeks burn at the thought of Satoru — he was always a bold kid, but you didn’t think he’d confess to being in love with you all this time. Especially now as a man — and not a kid, “yeah he’s still picking me up,”

When he had confessed to you all those years ago as a young teenager, you had thought nothing of it. Except that it was a crush on his best friend’s older cousin — something that would pass easily with time. You hadn’t even thought of it in all these years.

But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Especially when he kept showing up to pick you up from work. And now you were stirring other sorts of rumors.

After he had taken you to the walk-in clinic, he had driven you home, making sure to check if your place was secure enough, and that you weren’t too shaken up.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off to Suguru’s?” he had asked, crossing his arms, “I could also drag his ass here, he owes me anyway,”

“No, no I’m really fine,” you chewed your lip, looking down, “you sure he’s not going to come back?” and he leans down, forcing you to meet his gaze, as he tilts his head.

“Sweetheart, you think I’d even leave your place if I thought there was a chance of him coming back?” he offers you a smile, and you scoff softly, shaking your head, “trust me, he won’t be bothering you again, not while I’m around,” and he added, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

And you didn’t know what to do with the promise in his words. Because you knew he meant that — in more than one way.

But even so, he hadn’t brought up his confession — not once.

“He’s so sweet isn’t he? Suguru is always so busy but Satoru’s making time to pick you instead,” your aunt gushes, and you shake your head, your aunt did have a habit of being a little hard on her son, “by the way, would you mind stopping by the house today?”

“Why’s that?”

And well, how did you end up here?

You stood in front of the entrance to a very expensive looking building with a very intimidating doorman, with a large tote bag full of food that your aunt had insisted you drop off. She had given you his address, but by the time you arrived, you realized that you didn’t even have his number. And now Suguru or your aunt weren’t picking up their phones.

Fuck.

You were internally debating whether to talk to the doorman or to just go home and deal with this another time, when you heard someone speak behind you.

“Looking for someone?” You jump slightly, whirling when you see Satoru, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he lifts his sunglasses to meet your gaze, “didn’t think I’d find you hanging outside my apartment building, princess,”

“Well, you show up outside my workplace and I’ll be showing up outside your apartment building,” the words leave your mouth without much thought, as your cheeks burn at the implication, “I mean—”

“Is that supposed to discourage me from picking you up?” he grins, “Doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me,”

You roll your eyes, before holding up the bag, “My aunt asked me to drop off some dishes for you. She’s worried you’re eating too many sweets,”

He takes the bag from your hand, fingers brushing, as he shakes his head, “I shouldn’t have ever told her that I had cake for dinner,” and you snort, unable to hide your giggles, “what’s so funny?”

“I can see a lot about you has changed, but your sweet tooth is just as bad as when you were a kid,” and you see him scratch the back of his head, “is your favorite dessert still mochi?”

“You still remember that about me?” A smile pulling at his lips, and your cheeks burn, but you refuse to waver.

“Well, it’s hard to forget you threw up all over the rug when you ate too many,” You bite back a smile when you spot the tips of his ears burn red, as he gapes at you.

“Did you have to bring that up?” He mutters, a small pout on his lips, and you snort, as he can’t help the curl of his lips, “now, c’mon,” his fingers brush the small of your back.

“Satoru, where—“ but his hand is firm as he guides you towards his building.

He flashes you a grin as he signs you in with the doorman, “Do you think I’d let you come all this way without staying for dinner?”

~~~

“Do you want anything to drink?” Satoru’s penthouse was nothing less than immaculate — high ceilings, pristine floors, and an interior designed living space. You swore in some places it was still shiny — and you felt very out of place in your casual wear for the weekend.

“Just a water,” you reply, as he opens his refrigerator and you raise an eyebrow at the fully stocked compartments, “wow,” you murmur, and he’s pulling a water and a fancy looking juice out of it.

“What was that?” He raises a brow, and you stammer a moment, “c’mon princess, share with the class,”

“Just surprised your refrigerator isn’t just stuffed with just desserts, sweets, and ice cream,” and he hands you your water, before sitting beside you, spread out on the couch, as he always was.

“Oh it is, it’s just very well hidden,” and you snort, as he throws his arm over the back of the couch, “I may be an adult but I’m not going to be a boring old geezer like my father,”

“I don’t think I could ever see you becoming boring, Satoru,” you chuckle, and he tilts his head.

“Is that a rare compliment from you, princess?” And his grin only makes your cheeks warm, as you roll your eyes.

“More like an observation,” you reply, as your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out to check — who would be messaging you now?

Oh fuck.

“You ok there?”

No, no you weren’t. Because your lovely aunt had given your number to a prospective match, and now he was texting you. A lot.

“It’s nothing,” you sigh, shaking your head, putting your phone on ‘do not disturb.” You would have dinner first, and then you’d murder your aunt after dessert, “do you want me to help take out dinner?”

“You expect me to believe you don’t hire a chef to make these sides?” The food was spread out across the table, many of the dishes your aunt had made plated and presented, but along with sides that Satoru had made, “Suguru had made it seem as if the only thing you ever made was microwave ramen,”

“Well jokes on him, I burned it the one time I tried,” he grinned, “but I did learn to cook, I just never bothered to cook for Suguru,”

“And why’s that?” You take a bite of the pickled radish he had prepared.

“Because I’m not trying to impress him, am I?” And you nearly choke slightly, as you manage to swallow, “you should know I’m so much more than a pretty face, Princess,”

You sigh, “Satoru—“

“Have you thought about what I said at all?”

And you had. A lot more than you cared to admit. Especially after all he had done. Everything he had to Naoya to defend you. And just about him — how sweet he’s been, how protective, how kind, and how you’d like nothing more than to do the same for him—

But…

“I have, but Satoru, our ages—“

“We’re both adults. We both graduated. We haven’t seen each other in over a decade,” his leg brushes yours as he shifts closer, “are you telling me you don’t feel anything?”

You didn’t know how to answer that — not when you didn’t really know yourself. And you always knew the answer — you knew you wanted to study abroad, you knew you had to leave Naoya’s company, and you knew you wanted to live here — so why was this the one time you didn’t? And why was he the one thing you were unsure of?

You bite your bottom lip, “But, Suguru—“ and he scoffs softly.

“Are you really thinking about Suguru right now?” he asks, “or would you rather date the guy blowing up your phone earlier?”

Your eyebrows knit together, “How did you know—“

“Well I know it’s not Naoya, and I heard from Suguru that your aunt wanted to set you up,” fucking Suguru—and your lips twist into a pout, he tilts his head, not bothering to hide his smile, “if you dated me, you could get your aunt off your back,” he muses, leaning against his elbow, “she always did say I was family, and I’m not looking to be your brother,”

Your cheeks burn at his words, “Satoru,”

“Think about it, Princess, you don’t have to give me an answer now,” but his eyes flicker to your phone, “but I know you’ll find me once you meet any one of these guys your aunt sets you up with,”

You grimace at your phone, picking it up to see the messages from the guy your aunt had given your number to, “fuck,” you murmur, locking your phone before tossing it away, an image of you trapped at a dinner across the most boring man alive. And then you glance up at Satoru, still a smug smile on his lips, and then back to your phone.

“What’s your plan?”

~~~

“So, I heard you turned down the boy I gave your number to,”

Your aunt hardly pulled punches.

She never did when you and Suguru were growing up — she always knew what the two of you got up to, even if you were both sure she could never find out — she always did. Even the one time that the two of you had snuck out to get ramen on a late night, Suguru’s parents were in a dead sleep — but by the time you both snuck back in, she was waiting for both of you in the hallway. But this time, she wasn’t even leading with a wind-up before swinging.

And then she adds, eyes narrowing, “He said you declined because you’re dating someone,”

She was going for the kill.

She turns to grab the whistling tea kettle, turning it off, before pouring the hot water into two cups. You force yourself not to bite your bottom lip, the smallest tell was dangerous, even with her back turned, “Is there anything he didn’t tell you?” She’s placing the tea cups one by one on the tray, as if laying out her pieces on a board only to corner you.

Your aunt frowns, “His mother told me,” great, even better — he was a momma’s boy, and now you were starting to wonder just how many bullets did you dodge, “are you seeing someone?”

You were beginning to regret this plan — and you don’t know why you let Satoru talk you into it.

“You want me to do what?” You stared at Satoru as if he had suggested going diving with sharks, which is not far from what he was suggesting, “tell my aunt that we’re together. No way,”

“Aw, am I that embarrassing to date, Princess?” And you roll your eyes.

“Yes, for me,” and he’s tilting his head, “my aunt will immediately tell my uncle and Suguru — and I don’t know which one of them would kill you first,” your uncle wasn’t one for words or conflict, but he had a soft spot for you — and a fist for anyone that tried to come date you without his approval.

“Eh? Doesn’t Uncle like me?” And you snort, the one sided conversations that Satoru had with your uncle that usually ended with your uncle excusing himself to get away from that “annoying moron.”

“He doesn’t hate you but,” you choose your words carefully, “he doesn’t prefer you,”

Satoru scoffs, crossing his arms, “Well Auntie loves me, and I had a plan for this,” and she did, she had quite the soft spot for Satoru, ever since he was a kid. You couldn’t exactly blame her — he looked like an angel, even if the words that left his mouth made it seem like the contrary, his fingers brushing against a strand of your hair, “and soon I’ll make you love me too,”

Fucking cocky bastard, you thought to yourself, cheeks burning at the thought of the smirk on his lips, but you’re jarred back to reality as you hear the clattering of cups and spoons.

“I am,” you reply, and your aunt’s head whips around, the clinking of the glasses cutting through the pause, “it’s new,” you add, as she sets down the tea cups, placing the tea dispensers in each one, “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything,”

“Why wouldn’t you? This is wonderful,” she blinked, and her brow wrinkles, “unless it’s that Naoya—“ you flinch at the thought of him.

“No, I’m done with him,” you wave her off quickly, wrinkling your nose at the thought of that bastard, grabbing the tea cup, the scent of green tea wafting from the steam that warmed your face, as you blew air to cool it off, “it’s someone I reconnected with here,”

Your aunt raises an eyebrow, “So soon? Is it someone from work?” Again, is the word she implies with the sentence, a sharp tone that nicked your armor.

“No, it isn’t,” and she’s sipping her tea, and you take a sip only to burn your tongue, “but he is younger,”

“That’s not a problem if he’s not too much younger — how old is he?” and this was exactly why you hadn’t wanted to tell your aunt, it was more of an interrogation than a conversation.

“He’s about Suguru’s age,” and she’s tilting her head, “Suguru introduced us,” and that wasn’t a lie — it was true — both in the past and now.

“Really? And Sugu is okay with you dating his friend?” Your aunt may be gossip and a meddler, but she wasn’t a fool, your hesitation is your end, “and I assume you’re telling me all this to get me off your case and to ask not to tell Suguru,” she sighs.

“Auntie—“

“You know I don’t like lying for either of you—“

“But—“

“No, I can’t—“

“How about lying for me?” Satoru stands in the doorway, head tilted, a smile on his lips. And your aunt blinks before she slowly puts the puzzle pieces together, a mix of emotions crossing her expression — confusion, disbelief, and maybe a hint of joy, before she settled on a neutral

“Satoru—“

He frowns, “Auntie, you know Suguru will kill me for dating his cousin, please,” and then he does what he does best — pouting.

And your aunt breaks — with a one hit-KO.

“You must have been blessed by some needlessly annoying god,” you murmur as he walks you back to your place, sun gleaming as it gave off its last rays of light before setting for the night, “because I don’t know how you still get her to fall for that,”

“I was born blessed,” and you snort, as you catch sight of his smile out of the corner of your eye, “and speaking of which, when’s our first date?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” You stop walking, hands in your pockets, “Satoru—“

“Don’t tell me you’re about to launch into another speech about how you can’t date me,” he gives an exaggerated sigh, “I could go back to your aunt and tell her how you broke my heart and let her pull out list of aunties who have sons who are excited to meet you—“

“Alright, fine, a date, but one thing first,” you step close to him, making his breath catch, pretty blues finding your gaze, the very same he would love to get lost in, before they flicker down to your lips. And he swears you can probably hear his heart beating out of his chest, thumping at the bony bars of his ribcage, and he hates it, hates how you have him twisted around your finger without trying, “Princess—“

You reach for him, fingers nearly about to brush his cheek, his eyes fluttering, before you flick his forehead, “ow!”

“I was just going to ask when our first date is going to be, but if you rather I go on a bunch of blind dates—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing his forehead all the same, “then do you have any ideas?”

He grins, “Plenty, but there’s one in particular.”

~~~~

“An amusement park?”

He sat next to you, driving, hand on the console and you couldn’t help but brush your arm against his each time you moved — and you felt as if he did it on purpose.

He raises an eyebrow, stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye, “Uh-huh, got a problem, Princess?”

“No I’m just surprised, we went to plenty of these as kids,” you glanced at him, his eyes concentrated on the road, fingers curling a little tighter around the steering wheel.

You had raised an eyebrow at his choice, but now that you were here…it wasn’t a bad pick.

You hadn’t been to one in years — not since your summers with Suguru. The screams in the distance told you there was a rollercoaster not far off, the syrupy sweetness of sugar somehow emanated from every inch of air, and the park was filled to the brim with families and couples.

You glance at Satoru, a plain t-shirt and shorts, and somehow he still looked as if he stepped off a page of a men’s style magazine. He looked around, his eyes landing on a vendor selling cotton candy, and you hid your chuckle.

“C’mon,” you took his hand, leading him over without a second thought, and you’re grabbing a giant cotton candy for him, made into a flower by the vendor. Satoru’s practically vibrating with excitement, slinking his hand around to sneak the vendor money before you even had a chance, “I wanted to pay—“

“You think I’d make my date pay?” He takes a bite out of his cotton candy, sugar sticking to his lips even as he nearly inhales a petal, “even the arranged set ups should do that much,” but it’s hard to take him seriously with blue sugar all over his mouth, “what?”

You snort, grabbing a wet nap from your purse,“Well, you’d be surprised,” and you wipe his face, fingers cupping his chin, “some guys are a little immature,” and he stares back, and you swear you see a flush settle over his cheeks, before he turns away to wipe his lips.

“Not me,” he mumbles, tips of his ears burning red, and you bite your bottom lip, cute.

“Should we find a ride to go on?” he immediately grins at that, offering his arm this time, and you take it, a smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~

Oh you were wrong.

So wrong.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to get on,” and before you can leave a hand catches you by the wrist gently, blue eyes judging over his rimless sunglasses, “Satoru—“

“It’s just a rollercoaster,” just a rollercoaster? No, it was literally your death. You stared up at the contraption above you, the echoing screams growing louder as the line crept forward — akin to a rickety boat that Charon would wade you across into hell itself.

“No, I can’t—“ you shake your head.

“C’mon it won’t be that bad—“

“So you admit it’s going to be bad,” and he’s biting back a smile, “what?”

“I just never really saw you being scared of anything, Princess,” he sighed loudly, “I guess I’ll have to ride it all alone,” but that only serves to make many women (and men) stare at him as if to offer him their company.

“You have options,” and he shakes his head, his hand outstretched as the two of you enter the final stretch of the line.

“Like I said, sweetheart, there’s only ever been one option for me,” and your fingers graze his with several second thoughts, but when his fingers laced with yours, you knew there was no turning back.

“I didn’t know you could scream that loud,”

You grinned at a shaken up Satoru, throat probably raw and aching as he frowns, face turned away, “I’m not used to the speed, unlike you, from how I heard you drive,” and you bite back a laugh, as he fails to hide his flush from you, his ears burning red.

Your chuckle is a badly disguised cough, “Are you pretending to be this way to make me feel better?” You tease, and he’s crossing his arms.

“No way I’d let myself look so lame in front of you, I’m no better than Ijichi,” and you raise an eyebrow. Ijichi was a boy in Suguru and Satoru’s class when they were kids — one that Satoru loved to complain about being slow.

“You still think about him?”

“He’s my assistant,” and you snort at the thought of Satoru still hassling that poor guy.

“I hope you pay him well,” he’s officially pouting again.

“I didn’t know it would be that intense!” you tilt your head, as the two of you find a corner of the park that’s not so crowded and riddled with children running amok, and you watch him down a sugary soda drink he had bought from one of the food stalls.

“You act as if you’ve never been to an amusement park,” he’s quiet for a second too long, and your eyebrows knit together, “but Suguru—”

“You guys would go every summer, but it was when I had my prep classes on the weekends,” he runs his fingers through his white locks, “I would have skipped when I was older, but by the time I had stopped caring what my father thought of me, you had already gone to college and Suguru’s family stopped going,”

You frown — you knew Satoru didn’t have the best upbringing — yes he had every opportunity at his fingertips, all the money in the world that you couldn’t even fathom, but you could count the number of times he’s mentioned his parents on one hand.

“I was always so jealous when you guys would go,” he sighed, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “it seems silly now—”

“No, it’s not,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “you should have been allowed to be a kid,”

He chuckles, a noise that sticks in your chest, “Well, more than anything, I wanted to go with you,” his cerulean eyes find yours, a soft smile on his lips, “thank you for indulging me, princess,”

“Well, you’re the one doing me a favor, right?” you tease, getting to your feet, “c’mon we have plenty of other things to do — I saw a booth with candy apples not too far over there—” you point, and his fingers are already finding yours as he nearly drags you along, a laugh caught in your throat as you can’t help but smile at his excitement.

It’s infectious, you thought as the two of you got in line, Satoru nearly vibrating with need for his sugar fix, and you shook your head, biting back a laugh, just like him.

~~~

“You don’t have to walk me home,” the sun had long sunk by the time you both had left, staying to catch a glimpse of the fireworks before heading back, “it’s not that far from here,”

The two of you had opted to take public transport to the amusement park, knowing there would be next to nowhere to park or rather only the middle of nowhere to park. The cicadas were already beginning their symphony, filling the relative silence of the neighborhood now, except for the chatter heard from inside houses or outside in gardens.

“Who would carry your loot home?” and he tilts the giant plushie to show his unimpressed face, “you barely wanted to carry this at the park, even after you begged me to win it, and I did, in one shot,”

And he did, he had won you a giant polar bear plushie nearly as tall as you were in his hands, along with several bags of sweets he had bought on the way out, just to snack on tonight (and you seriously wondered if he ate anything that was not coated in mochi, chocolate, or sugar).

“I don’t remember begging you — I asked you,” you cross your arms, and you know he’s smiling behind the bear, using the plushie to hide his goddamn smirk, “i did! I just asked if we could try to win it—”

“And I remember the phrases ‘please’ and ‘i need it’ being involved in the conversation,” you felt your cheeks burn, “you still like these things, huh?”

“What do you mean?” and he moves the polar bear under one arm, the bags in the other so you could actually see his face.

“You always loved plushies, you had that one from your parents that you kept in your room with you all the time—”

“Panda, I was very original with that name,” you shake your head, before your gaze turns to him, his sunglasses gleaming on his head in the low light of the streetlamps, “I can’t believe you remembered that,”

“There’s barely a thing I’d forget when it comes to you,” and you bite your lip, heart squeezing at his words, “you look like you wanna say something, princess?”

You reached the outside of your apartment building just as night fell, humidity still clinging to the thick summer air. The light of the lobby spilling out into the sidewalk through the glass doors, just as the streets grew quieter.

And you do — you’re not sure if you should ask it — a question posed on a precipice of uncertainty that you didn’t know if you wanted to step off of. But you know you had to, at one point or another.

You could just go inside, brush off his question, and leave the day at that. But a nagging question had wriggled it’s way to the forefront of your mind, and you knew it wouldn’t leave your mind until it left your tongue.

You chew on your lip, “You say these things so easily when it comes to me, but how are you so sure?”

And he shrugs, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second, “I just know,”

“But how?” He’s shaking his head, stepping forward, until he’s a breath away, your eyes flickering from his gaze to his lips for a split second, your own air caught in your traitorous throat.

“Instead of wondering why I feel why I do, I think you should wonder why you’re so unsure,” and his fingers graze your cheek, tilting your chin upwards, his touch sending heat to the far reaches of your body, and he’s leaning forward. Your eyes nearly flutter shut, as his words nearly warm your lips, but no, instead they brush against your ear, “because if I was still just that kid to you that I was all those years ago, then why aren’t you pulling away?”

Your eyes blink open, as he pulls away, grin on his lips, as he hands you your polar bear plushie, “Satoru—“ and you don’t even know what you want to say — you want to argue, you want to say something, anything, but nothing comes out but his name.

“You shouldn’t let a guy get that close, Princess, especially not twice,” he sighs, lips still curled, “because if you let me that close again, I won’t be leaving without a kiss,”

And you could only stare after him as he left — fingers touching your ear he had whispered against, lips pursing, as you huff, cheeks burning as you step inside your building, burying your face in white fluff of the polar bear that looked a little too much like someone’s hair.

“Idiot.”

~~~~

You’re avoiding me.

Satoru wasn’t wrong. You were — but not exactly on purpose. Or at least you didn’t think so. It had been the third time you had turned him down in the last week. Although, today’s wasn’t intentionally so. You stewed in a corner of the bar, eyes glancing at your phone — what was really an appropriate time to leave a work-sanctioned event without looking completely anti-social?

It was never really fun coming to these events alone — but you knew if Satoru was here, you’d actually have a good time. You were almost surprised he hadn’t shown up at your place or your work to see you — all he had done is text you. And why did that almost disappoint you?

You checked the time again, met with the notification of Satoru’s message again before you swiped it away out of sight. But he wasn’t out of mind. He hadn’t been for days. You rubbed at your temples — you hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since your day at the amusement park, thoughts spinning in circles and it was all his fault. You had done everything to get him out of your head — minimize contact, not see him, even drag yourself to an event like this — but still, you stared at your phone screen again, the ghost of his words still warming your ear.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Fuck. What were you doing? You took a long swig of your drink, hoping the alcohol could erase some of that night out of your mind. The last thing you needed to be thinking about was Satoru Gojo.

“So who’s the guy who has been picking you up after work?”

You nearly choked on your drink. Really? You downed your drink, hoping you can ignore the question if you take long enough downing the searing concoction that the bartender had handed you, maybe they would let you off the hook. But as you finish the drink, you only find your coworkers staring back at you still. The hush that fell over this group of women was far too reverent for a conversation about a man.

“He’s my little cousin’s best friend,” you reply, ordering another drink — you were going to need it, and the women exchange glances, fake smiles plastered on their lips.

“He’s not your boyfriend?” and a strange twinge settles in your chest at the question, poking and prodding your tongue to say no, no he wasn’t, but you almost didn’t want to.

“No, he isn’t,” and the women grin amongst each other, “if you would excuse me—”

“Wait, wait, we just started talking, come on now,” you sigh internally, as they order another round of drinks as they corral you to their table, maybe after this you could finally leave.

~~~

“What’s got you so down?” Suguru slides into a seat across from Satoru — Satoru who couldn’t stop checking his phone to see if you had replied.

“What do you mean?” he sighs, he shouldn’t have sent that text earlier. He shouldn’t push so much, he’s already pushed enough with his comment. God, why the fuck did he say that? What if you thought he was a creep—what if you thought he was disgusting? What if—

“You look pathetic,” Suguru sips his coffee in his hand, scrolling through his phone, “who is it?”

Satoru sits up, locking his phone, tucking it away as if it would incriminate him — flashing your name across the screen like it was plastered over his mind, “what do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen you like this, you keep checking your phone — you barely can keep track of it most of the time,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I figured you must have grew a dick and started liking someone,”

“Look who’s talking — when’s the last time you dated someone again?” And Satoru catches the crumpled up paper Suguru tosses, “don’t get on your high horse if you don’t want the same thing back,”

“At least I’m not waiting like a lovesick puppy over my phone,” Suguru mutters, taking another sip of his drink, and that’s when a phone ringing cuts through the silence — that was your ringtone, the very one he set to know when you’d call — just so he wouldn’t miss it, “looks like your waiting by the door paid off,”

“Fuck off,” Satoru mumbled, walking off with his phone as he picked up, “hello?”

“Suguru!” Satoru’s brow furrowed at the sound of your cousin’s name leaving your lips, “can you pick me up plz—“ your words were slurred, sounds of chatter cutting through the background.

“Princ—“ you hiccuped, a small groan leaving your lips.

“You can’t tell Satoru, he’ll come here and my coworkers won’t stop asking me about him,” you sigh again, mumbling, “why does he have to be so—ugh, it’s not fair for someone to be that pretty—“

Pretty?

His cheeks burned, as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying and failing to bite back a stupid smile on his lips — it’s not fair for you to be this cute. He would have preferred ‘handsome’ or ‘perfect’ or ‘your boyfriend’ — but he could settle for pretty.

“Anyway!” You cut his thoughts off, “could you come get me?” And Satoru bit his lip, glancing at Suguru — he could tell Suguru to get you, he could, but the odds of you letting something slip to Suguru—- “remember you can’t tell Satoru—“

—was really high.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there, and I won’t tell him,” he adds, because you already had.

~~~

“How did you find out where I work?” Satoru didn’t know after so many years that there were still new things to learn about you still — and one thing he had learned tonight was that —- you pouted at him, stumbling slightly as he came to a stop in front of your building — you were really whiny when drunk.

“I picked you up there, remember?” he lightly flicked your forehead that only made you huff, “now do you have your keys?”

“Do you know how annoying you are?” And he has to bite back a laugh at your scrunched up face.

“I do, sweetheart, but I’d love to hear you tell me,” you scoff, crossing your arms only to immediately uncross to dig through your purse for your keys, tossing out several things that Satoru catches or picks up.

“You come to my work and pick me up, and act all swoon worthy, and perfect, and you look like that—“

“Like what?” he can’t hide his smile this time, and your brow furrows as you pull out your keys, lips opening and closing, until you purse them.

“Like that,” you grumble as you teeter on your feet again, before he supports you, and he swore he heard you mumble, “so disgustingly handsome,”

And he’s glad your eyes are half closed and focused ahead, otherwise he knew you’d smack him for the grin on his face.

“Oi, don’t—“ and you don’t listen, nearly falling over as you unlock your door, whole body weight leaned against it, but his arm slips around you, holding you up from face planting into your floor, “you’re gonna break your neck, Princess,”

“You wouldn’t let that happen,” You break from his grip and lean up close, your breath warming his lips, your gaze half lidded, “not when you love me,” and his heart thuds against his ribs, rattling his lungs and bones alike, “that’s what you said, right?”

You weren’t making this easy, not with your fingers now sliding up his chest, toying with the top button of his shirt, “I did—“

“So are you going to prove it?” And the floor feels as if it slips out from underneath him, and all he feels is you, only you — the brush of your fingers against his chest, the faint scent of lavender from your perfume that your aunt had gifted you, and the caress of your gaze against his lips, the same eyes he could easily lose himself in — if he wasn’t careful.

But he had to be careful — because it was you.

“But—“

“But what?” it would be so easy to kiss you, when you were only half a breath away, lips parted and gaze asking him to do so, to just lean in—but he can’t.

Not like this.

His thumb runs down your lips, your eyes fluttering shut, fingers sliding to cup your jaw, and he leans in — feeling your breath catch—

But he only flicks your forehead, drawing a soft yelp from you.

“I’d like you to remember our first kiss,” and he’s corralling you into bed after that, your body keeling over into the soft mattress, as he’s able to wriggle you under the comforter. Your body relaxes into the plush bed, eyes shut, as your muscles loosen and unwind, while Satoru stands over you, the exact opposite — muscles taut and mind whirring.

Fuck.

“You never make it easy, do you, Princess?” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he scrubs a hand down his face, “good night,” his fingers ghost over the swell of your cheek, before turning to leave—

And your fingers caught him around the wrist, eyes half open as you stared up at him, a pout on your lips but now for an entirely different, but somehow the same reason—

“Stay,” one word nearly had him crumble right there — and how pathetic was that? Maybe Suguru was right — he was no better than a puppy at your beck and call — waiting by the door for his master to return. And he almost didn’t mind — if you always came home to him.

“Princess, you have to go to sleep—“ he could easily break from your grip, fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist, but your grasp may have been very well made of iron with how you had pinned him into place — an entomologist pinning their butterfly in their display.

“Don’t wanna sleep alone,” a slight whine in your voice makes him waver again, but he had a problem with sleeping beside you—

He shifted in place, adjusting himself, a somewhat big problem thst wouldn’t go away — no matter how many times he thought about Gakuganji in his underwear — especially when you were looking at him like that, half dressed in bed with a pout on your lips and want in your gaze—want that he never thought would be for him.

“Please?” And that’s all it takes, his thumb rubbing against your fingers — because he could never say no to you.

~~~~

“Are you okay?”

Satoru was never left alone — not since he had managed to wander off alone when he was five. It took several hours and a dozen security guards to find him at a bakery, having his third piece of cake. And when he was brought home, he was told just how many ways that could have went wrong — what could have happened to him, and most of all — how badly it could have made his parents look.

After that, he couldn’t remember a time that his hand wasn’t clutched by a caretaker or escort — from school to home to anywhere else he wished to go. But he never wished to go anywhere, not with a stranger at his side.

It was only when he met Suguru that he was allowed to go out without someone hovering over his shoulder. But without warning — warning that if any incident would mean he would be stuck back in his daily life. But that meant when he got distracted in the pastry section of the supermarket — looking for the exclusive mochi he desperately wanted — he found himself alone, with you and Suguru nowhere in sight.

“Suguru?” Satoru called, head whipping around, chest thudding as the white noise of the market grew louder. His gaze falls, ears ringing with all that could go wrong, back to the life with no one at his side, only strangers—

“Toru?” Satoru’s gaze snaps up, your hands on your hips, your head tilted, “you okay?” And he’s quickly wiping away his tears, sniffling softly, your hand finding the top of his head, “i got you something,” and you hold out a mochi in front of him, and he blinks.

“You found it?” He’s blinking and your lips curve into a pretty smile.

“Anything for you, Satoru,” your fingers run through his hair, “Satoru? Satoru—“

His eyes flutter open, finding you leaning over him, your tousled hair in messy tangles, “finally awake?” And a soft chuckle on your lips as you speak, rubbing your eye, flinching as you rub your temples, “what exactly happened last night?”

“You mean besides you calling me pretty?” And your jaw drops, biting your lip, “and begging me to stay? Didn’t know you liked my company that much, Princess,”

You glare at him, “well with charm like that—“ you mutter, when it occurs to you, “why did you sleep on the floor? And with that?” You point to the polar bear plushie he used as a pillow last night.

Not his most preferred bedfellow.

Always full of surprises, his cheeks burn, and he only can hope it doesn’t show on his face, hidden behind a cheeky smile, “Didn’t know you were so eager to share a bed with me, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “I have to warn you, I have a tendency to cuddle—“ and you smack him with a pillow, he sighs, “someone wasn’t too keen on sharing her pillows with me, so this was the best I could do,”

You snort, as you take the offending plushie from him, “Did you do something to him?”

He tilts his head, “Eh?” And you hold up the polar bear plush, “what could I do to him?”

“Someone did threaten to toss him out into the ocean so he could join his family,”

“I can do a lot of things, but I can’t solve global warming, Princess,” and you bite back a laugh, “I was on my best behavior with him last night, even though he’s a shitty pillow,” and you didn’t have to know how he had slapped him a couple times.

But even so, you bite your lip, looking down as you toy with your comforter, “why did you come?”

He blinks, “what do you mean?”

“You could have sent Suguru, but you came, and you stayed, on the floor,” and he curls his lips.

“Well what kind of fake boyfriend would I be?” And you roll your eyes, still waiting for an answer, and his voice grows soft, “you know why, Princess,”

“I do, but I don’t,” you murmur, fidgeting with your blanket as you chewed on your bottom lip, “my coworkers couldn’t stop talking about you last night, they kept saying how handsome you are, how wonderful, how perfect—“

“Should I be less handsome or perfect? Because don’t know if that’s possible—“ and it earns him another whack with the pillow, but he only catches it, “you say that like it’s a bad thing,”

“It’s not, but I don’t know why after all these years, you still want me,” you sigh, words pushing past your lips, “you could have anyone, Satoru,”

“If I just wanted anyone, I wouldn’t have fell in love with you,” and you bury your face in your pillow, gaze peeking down at him.

“You say that with such ease, how do you know what love even is? I don’t know if I know what it is,” you add, mumbling under your breath, and his eyes can’t help but follow the way your fingers run through your hair.

“I don’t think I need to know when I feel it,” Satoru sat up, dangerously close to you, within reach yet so far out of it, “do you need to know to see the sky is blue? Do you need to know to feel pain when you burn yourself?”

“Didn’t know you were taking philosophy classes with Suguru,” and he snorts, shaking his head, “Satoru—“

“Like I said before, Princess, just give me some time,” his fingers reach for you, and your breath catches, before he slowly smoothed your hair out, “and I’ll win you over,”

Your eyes flicker to his, and god, he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss you, but he couldn’t. He had to be patient. He couldn’t push you — he wanted you to want him just as much. He would make you fall into his arms willingly, and you’d kiss him — not the other way around.

“Want some breakfast?” your lips curl into a soft smile, the very same smile that he had fallen for time and time again.

“You offering to cook me breakfast?”

“Just wondering what would shut you up the quickest,” and he has half a mind to reply with ‘your lips,’ but he decides against it, “pancakes?”

~~~

“I can feel you staring,”

Even with your back turned to the stove, bowl in hand as you whipped the batter with the whisk, hoping your laser focus on the pancakes would help you distract yourself. But it did little when you could feel his gaze sticking in your back, spotlights on every little movement — something that wouldn’t have bothered you before — but after last night—

This was why you never drank.

You covered your face with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, as you placed the bowl down, what had your life become?

“C’mon you can’t just let a guy like that go,” one of the women from work nudged you — you couldn’t remember if her name was Kanae or Kanao — handing you a refill of the drink you had gotten, “he certainly seems into you from the way he looks at you,”

“If he isn’t, I’d take him off your hands,” Saki slurred, nearly spilling her drink, “he seems to like you. Is there really nothing between you two?”

“Not really,” you sipped your drink, if confessing to you after over a decade was nothing, “he’s just a friend,” and he was — a friend who was your fake boyfriend.

“You know with how you started, I thought your love life would be a lot more interesting,” Kanae sighed far too loudly, as she took another long swig of her cocktail.

“Well we’ve talked a lot about what you guys are but we haven’t asked how you feel,” Saki grinned, sloppily drunk yet somehow masterful with her questions, “how do you feel about him?”

And how did you? If someone asked you a few weeks ago, you would said he was just your little cousin’s best friend, a childhood friend — and you wouldn’t have thought twice. But now, he has given you so much to think about. Would you be this hesitant if you two haven’t met as kids? If he wasn’t Suguru’s best friend? If he didn’t seem so far out of your league?

Maybe. But you were never good at going for things you wanted — or accepting things as they were. Even with Naoya, you knew you should have broken up with him — you knew he was toxic, and yet you stayed — because it was easier.

And maybe it was easier to push Satoru away than to face how you felt.

Fuck, you were too drunk for this — you needed to get out of here, “excuse me,” you manage to slip away into the bathroom, washing your face, leaning over the sink.

You held your forehead, steadying yourself against the cold porcelain, fingers digging into the rim of the sink — eyes burning as your head throbs, a wave of nausea pulsing through your stomach. Fuck, there was no way that you could get home alone.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled — who the fuck would you call? The only people you knew were your family and…

Nope. No. Not an option.

You found Suguru’s number and tried to text, only to find your eyes blurring, and you knew if you sent a message he would be holding over any typos or fuck ups over your head forever.

You found his name, your head spinning as you clicked and called.

He didn’t pick up.

“Fucker,” you mumble, trying to hit his name again, your head spinning, and finally someone picked up—

And then you woke up in bed. A soft groan fell from your lips, knives prodding at every inch of your brain, memory blended and choppy as you drew into consciousness. You were home, your eyes fluttering open to sunlight illuminating your bedroom, a dull stiffness in your muscles that makes you stretch, turning on your side only to be met with a sight.

Satoru Gojo. Asleep on your floor, cuddling the plush polar bear he won for you. You stared, blinking, wondering if blinking away the sleep would somehow blink away Satoru too (it did not unfortunately). So you did the only other thing you could think of — take a picture.

As you glanced from the image to him, bits and pieces came back — from your drunken ramblings on the phone to the ones in person, your cheeks burning as you buried your face in your comforter before staring down at him. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? You were really testing those limits.

But even so, as you watched him sleep on top of the plushie, the only thing you could wonder was why had he stayed? He could have left after you fell asleep, or even before that, there wasn’t much you could have done to stop him. But he stayed, even on the floor, rather than anywhere else.

“So?” you didn’t need to turn from the stove to know he was grinning, “can’t I enjoy the show, Princess?”

“If you’re enjoying it so much, how about you become part of it and help?” you offer him a spatula, as he makes his way over, leaning over you, his body brushing against yours, but you ignore it all the same, eyes focused on the task instead on the warmth blooming from his touch, “I’ll spoon and you flip,”

The two of you work in silence, as you spoon batter onto the griddle and he flips the pancakes — and it’s only when you’re both just about done that you glance over, and his lips are curled, “What are you smiling about?” and he shakes his head, as he flips the last of the pancakes onto the stack, “Satoru—“

“I just never really have made breakfast like this before, or had someone make it for me,” he scratches the back of his head, “my parents always had chefs or maids or someone make me all my meals, and even when I moved out, I always cooked alone or bought my meals out,” he shrugs, as he turned the stove off, “it reminds me when you’d make me and Suguru instant ramen after we came in from playing outside,”

You snort, “You remember that?” You would get stuck making ramen for the two of them, tossing some seasoning and sauces into the mixture along with an egg, “I always put too much black pepper. I thought you hated it,”

“But I always finished,” he added, and he did, even if his cheeks were burning red and eyes watering by the end of the bowl. Your lips curl at the memory of him at the age of twelve downing an entire glass of water and spilling it all over the front of himself.

“Well I can make a lot more than instant noodles now,” you have Satoru set the table while you start to clean up, turning on the sink. You hear the clink of plates and utensils behind you, as he sets them down on the table, but you can feel his gaze fall over you even as your back is turned.

“I’m going to need some proof — there were a few times you almost burned those noodles,” and you pout, turning with your hands on your hips.

“Oh you want me to prove it now?” You turn, running your finger discreetly up the side of the used mixing bowl, finger full of batter as you walk up to him, hands behind your back.

“And how’re you gonna do that, Princess?” the corner of his lip quirks upwards, as you step close up to him, and god, he’s fucking tall — and it kind of pissed you off — all these boys shoot up like fucking weeds, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t knock him down a bit.

“Close your eyes, and find out,” he raises an eyebrow, suspicious, but still he obeys — good boy, the praise runs through your head to the tip of your tongue, but you bite it and the words back alike. And you’re so close, you can see his snow white eyelashes fan out against his cheeks, and he’s so unfairly pretty,

For now.

You’re so close, you nearly feel his body warmth radiate your skin — and you swear you hear his breath hitch — and it would be so easy to lean forward— “Princess — what—”

And then he gasps when you smear pancake batter down his cheek, a snort leaving your lips as he gapes at you, mouth ajar. He blinks, his hand reaching for his cheek, before he stops when his eyes flit to your batter caked finger, “You—”

You’re giggling, trying to stop yourself from doubling over at his expression, “What? I just wanted to give you a taste of my cooking before you tried it,” and he frowns at you for a moment, before his lips curl deviously, tilting his head.

“Is that right?” and his fingers run through the smeared batter, caking his finger tips before he’s stepping towards you, “then it’s fair, if I make you taste it too—“ and you’re trying to back up, giggles leaving your lips, but he catches you by the wrist.

“Satoru—“ you whine as you’re trying to squirm away, “let go!” but he only pulls you close, your body nearly bumping against his — and it was your turn for your breath to catch, cerulean irises stealing the air from your lungs as you drowned in them, “hey—“

“Just how much are you gonna tempt me, Princess?” and you should step away, but his fingers around your wrist send warmth blooming down your arm, straight to your chest, and you can’t bring yourself to step away.

“And how am I doing that?” His fingers tug you closer, thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist, before he leans close.

“You know exactly how,” and your glance flickers from his gaze to his lips, and back again, resisting the urge to shut your eyes — but you don’t have to, when he smears the batter all over your cheek.

“Toru!” You stare at him, and he’s laughing, as you grab at him, only for him to slip away, “I’m gonna kill you—“ and you move towards the sink, batter covered bowl still inside, “oh just you wait—“

But your beeline is cut short by his grip, arm darting around your middle, as he pulls you back. You gasp, struggling in his arms in vain — fuck his stupidly toned arms, “you shouldn’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” his words are said against your ear, but they rush down your body in almost a shudder.

His lips are an inch or two from yours, you would barely need to lean to reach them — the words of your coworkers ring in your ears

“Who said I wasn’t?” His eyes find yours, his fingers tilting your chin ever so slightly, when your phone rings.

You jerk slightly at the sound, your eyes flickering to the name across the screen and see Suguru’s name flashing on the screen.

“It’s Suguru,” and Satoru lets go of you, as you make your way to the phone, and you swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?” you don’t pick up the phone but a few texts come through anyway.

“Nothing,” he scratched the back of his head, “what did he say?”

“He’s asking if I wanna come over for dinner tonight, said you’re gonna be there too?” And you raise an eyebrow, as Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and glances at it.

“Apparently I am,” you turn on the faucet, cleaning your face off, offering Satoru a damp tissue. “Guess this won’t be the last meal we’re sharing today,”

“Guess not,” his fingers brush yours when taking the tissue, trying to clean the batter off his cheek but only spreads the mess. You snort, as you take the napkin from him holding his face by the chin, “so how’re we gonna play it?”

“Play what?” You toss the napkin away, both of you taking a seat at the table.

“Did you forget?” He stabs a pancake and places it in his plate, “we told your aunt we’re dating — and that we’re hiding it from Suguru, and you just agreed to dinner with both of them,”

Fuck.

✧ a/n: hi it's been quite a while T_T. sorry work has been so busy. i haven't had a moment to post, and now i had to split this up because it just got too long lmao. part two will come later, i'm going to be prioritizing my kinktober fics. thank you to @coffee-and-geto for betaing :)

✧ taglist: @satorusmochis , @celestialgojo , @sugurubabe , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @strawberryfanatic01 , @cira273 , @sobbangchan , @hiraethwrote , @peppertoastuniverse , @dreamtardisspace , @redmangotango , @h4ru-h4ruu , @anpacax0 , @theshylittleelfgirl , @hyori2 , @elliesndg , @maddietries , @roses-can-be-deadly-too, @vernasce-blogs , @mrsoikawa17 , @spider-fan72 , @haoxiaoxi , @horchatacow , @lovemoreworrylessv, @maybe-a-bi-witch , @missroki , @rubyarerosies ,, @ranatherealestsigma , @svt-backup , @catsgomurp , @sakurastorm , @forest-fruits-jam , @lemonpoppy-seed , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @notgoodforlife , @johannakhalafalla , @fushitoru , @kentosbutterfly , @augustwinesworld

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo fanfiction #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fics #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk smut #satoru gojo fluff

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fastandcarlos · 1 day

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Best Nurse Ever : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: after a nasty crash over the weekend, lando is relying on you to help him get better again

As the door shut and you waved goodbye to Oscar, the smile on Lando’s face disappeared. Laid out on the couch, leg upright, Lando couldn’t help but stare with envy as the two of you walked through your apartment with ease, Oscar free to go outside again, whilst Lando was stuck within the same four walls.

When he injured his leg you knew he wasn’t going to take it well, bedrest was the worst scenario Lando could’ve dreamt of, and now here he was, barely able to move himself off of the sofa without screaming in pain.

The figure before you was one that you didn’t recognise, all his energy and enthusiasm had gone and was replaced by frustration and desperation. You were trying your best for him, doing what you could to help Lando’s recovery, but it was going to be a long way to go before he was back to his usual self.

You walked through the apartment, sitting on the end of the sofa as you placed your hand against Lando’s foot, making sure that you were careful to not catch part of the foot that would end up causing more pain for Lando.

“Everything good?” You asked, offering Lando a faint smile.

His head nodded as he wore a weak smile, but you could see straight through it. Recovery was already proving to be a lot harder than Lando could have ever imagined, he was used to living life at two hundred miles an hour, and now he was barely moving at one.

“Shall I give you some space?” You offered as Lando remained quiet. You could tell he was trying to keep it together, and with you clearly more able to move than Lando, you didn’t want to sit somewhere that you weren’t wanted.

Lando’s head shook as he tried to encourage the smile on his face to grow, not wanting you to ever feel as if he didn’t want you around. He loved having you there, even if he hated the fact that you were having to run around after him.

You could tell he was lost in thought still, his eyes staring down at the floor debating whatever was going on in his head to himself. “It’s going to get easier you know Lan, each day you’re already starting to make good progress.”

“I’m not used to just sitting and doing nothing,” he sighed, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “These exercises are killing me, usually they’re like a tame warm up for a workout.”

“I know it’s frustrating, but that’s what’s helping you heal,” you reminded him, reaching out to take a hold of your hand. “Everyone is here to help you; they care and want to see you get better.”

“I hate it,” Lando huffed, “I’m the one supposed to be taking care of you.”

Your head shook as Lando spoke, “we’re a team and we take care of each other. It’s far from ideal to be injured, especially with how fast paced you usually are, but we’ve just got to crack on. Sure, it’s a little bump in the road, but it doesn’t mean everything just comes to a stop.”

“How do you manage to make even this sound positive?”

“Because we can’t change it,” you chuckled, moving closer towards Lando. “There’s no point sitting and dwelling on something you can’t change; we’ve just got to try and be positive about what comes next.”

“Thank you,” Lando whispered, stretching his leg out slightly to try and wake it back up again. “I know there are some pretty cool nurses at the hospital, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best nurse ever.”

Your eyes rolled at Lando’s compliment, nudging your hand against his other leg. He chuckled back at you, knowing exactly how you were going to react before he even said anything, never failing to catch you out with his cheeky remarks.

“You’re going to heal and be alright Lando,” you assured him.

“I know, I just wish I could be alright now, not weeks down the line,” he frowned, squeezing against your hand. “I need to remember to walk before I start running though.”

You nodded in agreement, “you need to stop being so hard on yourself, these things happen.”

Lando knew that you were right, despite how stubborn he was. He didn’t ask to get injured, but there was very little he could do about it now. “The first race is on Saturday; do you think we could do something? I don’t feel like sitting and watching it knowing that I can’t be there to complete.”

You immediately nodded, anticipating this from Lando. As the build-up for after the summer was starting, Lando was finding it harder to listen to the headlines and watch the videos knowing that he wasn’t able to be there and be part of it.

“What sort of thing did you have in mind for us to do?”

“I was thinking cuddles and pretending that only we exist.”

“We can do that,” you laughed, watching his eyes light up. “I’m sure that Oscar would still like to know that you’re cheering for him though. The constructors is still on, and regardless you’ve been a part of getting the team there.”

“I’ll text him,” Lando promised you, “but I can’t bring myself to watch knowing that someone else is driving my car. I only want to be involved in F1 when I can be part of it, I don’t want to watch it knowing that I’m just going to sit here feeling jealous of everyone else.”

A sympathetic smile appeared on your face, “let’s spend that time focusing on your recovery instead and getting you back there even quicker.”

“I’d like that,” Lando mused, watching as you stood up, moving to sit beside Lando instead, allowing your hand to brush through his messy hair in front of his face.

“I’m proud of you for handling this so well, I can’t begin to imagine how tricky this is,” you told him. “I’m going to be right here with you getting you through the next few weeks, you’re going to be sick of the sight of me nagging you.”

Lando’s head shook in protest, “I could never get sick of the sight of you, being at home with you is the only pro of having this stupid injury.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled, as Lando nodded, assuring you that that was how it was intended. “I can’t believe an injury is what it’s taken for me to get you all to myself.”

“I’m always right by your side,” Lando assured you, “only now it means that I get to annoy you much more than usual.”

“You’re right...you are pretty annoying,” you teased.

Lando’s eyes went wide, “hey...I’m injured, you’re supposed to be being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you Lan.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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cameronsprincess · 2 days

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KINKTOBER DAY ONE: BDSM w/ Rafe

CW: bondage, gagging, slapping, pussy slapping, praise and degrading, unprotected piv sex, dom!rafe, sub!reader. 18+ ONLY!

kinktober masterlist — rafe cameron masterlist

𓆩♡𓆪

“that’s it, you’re doing so fuckin’ good, princess. takin’ my cock like the good little whore you are.”

you yank your hands downward, pulling at the ropes that bound your wrists to the bed and making them tighten. a loud, muffled whine escapes you, drool spilling down past the ball gag that sits in your mouth and down your chin.

rafe slows his hips, stilling inside you before landing a harsh slap on your sensitive cunt. “stop yankin’ your arms, alright? unless you want me to keep slapping this pretty face and pussy.”

tears spill past your bottom lashes as rafe continues his brutal assault on your cunt. his hips smash harshly against yours with each inward thrust.

he slaps your pussy again, the sting sending an ungodly amount of pain and pleasure jolting through your body. his large hands tightly grip your hips, lifting your ass up off the bed as he continues rutting his hips into yours.

the room is filled with your muffled cries and the lewd sounds of your wetness as he pounds himself inside you. relentless, brutal thrusts have your toes curling, and you yank at your bound wrists again. the rough material of the rope digs into your delicate skin, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises, but you’re too far gone to care right now, in fact, you enjoy the marks left behind when rafe fucks you like this.

rafe removes his right hand from your hip, running it up the length of your stomach, breasts, and neck, reaching your face. his long, ringed fingers grip your cheeks tightly.

“the fuck did i say about yanking your arms? huh? you disobeying my orders? does my little slut not want to cum tonight? hmm?” slap. the force of his hand across your cheek has more tears spilling from your eyes, and you try to cry out a response. nothing but drool and muffled words fall from your mouth. rafe chuckles at your pathetic attempt at talking. “shut the fuck up, you don’t speak unless i say, you sound dumb trying to talk with this ball gag in your mouth.”

rafe releases his left hand from your hip, letting your body fall onto the mattress with a thud, his cock slipping from you in the process. he reaches forward and undoes one of the knots from your wrist before moving to do the other. he repeats the actions with the knots that bound your feet to the end of the bed. you blink once. twice. confused at what he’s doing, but you know better than to ask. he slides his hand under your back and effortlessly flips you onto your stomach. grabbing your right wrist, he ties the rope back around it and then secures it to the bed frame, repeating his actions with your left.

once he’s satisfied with the tightly tied ropes, he lifts your ass up and into the air, giving him a perfect view of your slick folds. “my pussy is so perfect, so fuckin’ wet f’me and begging to be filled with my cock.”

a muffled scream escapes you when his hand harshly slaps your pussy, causing your hips to jerk forward. rafe chuckles, slapping your pussy again. and again. and again.

after multiple slaps to your now red and sore cunt, he pushes himself back inside you without warning, filling you to the hilt. you can feel him in your stomach from this position, each slow, hard thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“so fuckin’ pretty.” thrust. “all fuckin’ mine.” thrust.

that all too familiar tightening in your lower belly begins to build as your pussy clenches around rafe’s cock, sucking him in deeper, begging to milk him for every last drop of cum he has to offer.

his hands make purchase on your hips, using them as support to fuck himself into you harder, faster. “your pussy is squeezin’ me baby, does my girl wanna cum?”

you arch your back more in response, your head falling forward. a series of muffled whines, moans and curses slip freely from you as your pussy continues to squeeze around rafe’s dick. he gives two hard thrusts, the swollen tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot and sending you over the edge.

you bite down on the gag in your mouth, screaming out for him as your body convulses. you try and yank your arms free from the ropes that bound them to the headboard, but it only tightens them, biting into your soft flesh and straining your shoulders from the position you’re in.

“that’s it, such a good girl. makin’ such a mess on my cock, princess.”

your chest heaves up and down, your breathing erratic as rafe fucks you through your high and chases his own. you know he’s close when you hear him panting behind you, the loud slaps of his balls against your pussy bounce off walls. his dick swells inside you and he cums with a groan and call of your name.

“fffuck! such a good fuckin’ girl. my good fuckin’ girl.”

𓆩♡𓆪

#kay’s kinktober🖤#kinktober 2024 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #dom!rafe

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darilarostarg · 2 days

Text

day two, creampie + breeding kink

Day Two - Thursday 3rd October - Creampie + Breeding Kink

Pairing: Cregan Stark x female!reader

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: SMUT, this got a very slow burn vibe for my smut?, dirty talk, rough-ish sex, implied size difference, breeding kink, creampie, nervous reader, spit, sex w/ a condom

Summary: Day Two of Kinktober - you can view the masterlist here.

This is all odd. Very, very odd.

If she had to describe their marriage in one word it would be uneventful. Cregan was quiet, a solitary man that didn’t speak much if there was no cause for it. They spend most of the days apart, him carrying out his duties and her doing the same, briefly meeting for lunch at midday, before going their separate ways again.

He would call her to his rooms two, sometimes three nights a week, quickly get his duty over him before returning to his role as the young, stern Lord of Winterfell. Not that she minded, she was treated better than most of her sisters were by their husbands. He ensured she didn’t want for anything, he was polite when they did speak and he was not aggressive in the marriage bed. Never once had she felt uneasy or frightened in his presence. Until now.

He had never called on her this late, nor after a feast. He had asserted that after a long night of eating, drinking and entertaining his vassals, bedding would be the last thing she would desire. That was his plan for this evening, once the winter feast was over, he would walk her back to her chamber, kiss her hand and leave. Like they had done, time and time before… but then she picked up the babe.

Lady Umbers’ latest boy. A squealing, happy little thing that caused her arms to tremble slightly under his weight as she picked him up onto her hip. Cregan hadn’t noticed at first, too engrossed in political talk with Lord Umber himself. But once Lord Umber excused himself to briefly speak with his wife, Cregan’s eyes following him to where she sat beside the Lady, gently holding his little arms in her soft hands as she blew into his stomach, smiling brightly as the boy wiggles and giggles hysterically in her arms. And for a moment he imagined it was her babe. Their babe. He imagined her sitting at the next feast, proudly showing off her own chubby babe to any Lady that would give their ear to her. He imagined her wrapping them gently in the countless blankets she spent her evenings embroidering. He imagines her swollen belly poking out from under all her pretty dresses and her waddling around the Great Keep. Then his cock twitches violently in his breaches, and he is gripping the table until his knuckles turn white.

So here she was, standing in just her thin, lacey lilac nightgown, all shy eyed and confused, his grey eyes staring intensely as he sits on the end of the bed, naked chest heaving gently as he tries to maintain his composure. Men have urges, my mother said. Maybe the ale has gotten to him tonight. She shuffles slightly, bare feet cold on the slate floor, jumping slightly, head turning towards the door when the guard that was sent to get her closes it behind him.

“Take it off.” Her head whips back towards him at a low sound of his voice. He is still sitting at the end of the bed, eyes not moving from her. Her mouth opens a little, as if to speak, before closing again, thinking better of it. She shuffles her weight again, slowly raising her hand to the tie at the front of her dressing down. Her fingers tug on the soft silk of the tie loosening it, the fabric dropping slightly. Just do what he wants, he has been nothing but kind to you. Just do what he wants. Cregan’s eyes are still locked on her, face unmoving and emotionless. Her cheeks flush softly as her hand moves to the strap of her left shoulder, pushing it down her arm, before doing the same to her right, allowing the soft silk that was covering her frame to fall to the floor, puddling at her feet. Cregan’s already painfully hard cock twitches again against his clothing as his eyes fall to her breasts, nipples peeking instantly under the cool air of his chamber.

“Come here,” He hums, voice rough. She pads gently towards him, slotting herself in between his spread thighs. She looks down, unable to look to his face, swallowing harshly when her eyes spot the straining bulge in his breeches. Gods…

Cregan hands reach out to hold her waist, coarse hands running down to her hips, before ghosting over her flat stomach. He grunts softly as his thumbs run along the smooth skin, hips jutting off the bed a little as he feels her stomach move up and down softly with her nervous breaths. He leans in slowly, softly placing wet kisses where his thumbs just left. He closes his eyes as he thinks about it, her stomach swelling with his seed, getting large and heavy, before letting out a huff and moving away from her, standing up.

“On the bed,” He says, not unkindly. Her eyes flick up to his face for a moment trying to get a read on what he wants, but she gets nothing. His blank face staring down at her. She looks down again, face flushed and uneasy, soft body brushing past his as she moves towards the head of the bed, to lie her back down, head against the plush pillows, “No. Not like that.”

She’s not even made it to the end of the bottom of the bed when his voice stops in her tracks. Her head remains in the direction she was walking in, not daring to look back around. The removal of routine has thrown her off. She does not know what to do. She jumps softly when his warm hand incases her elbow, gently pulling her back to the end of the bed, positioning her so close her thighs are pressed up against the mattress. His hand removes itself from her arm, quickly finding its way to her lower back, knuckles running up her spine gently before his hand splays out in the middle of her back and pushes her forward. She moves with his hand, stomach flattening against the cotton sheets, arms flat at her sides, heat rising to her cheeks at the new position. Oh…

Cregan huffs softly as she flattens herself against the bed, using both his hands to direct her to lean on her forearms, propping herself up a little. Once situated, he moves one hand to her hip, forcing her to stand straight on her feet as the other hand pushes softly down on the centre of her back, causing her back to arch for him. Once his puppeteering was complete, he stood back slightly, admiring his work. Admiring her. Her long smooth legs, the round of her ass, sweet like cunt that he can see has a small, wet sticky spot that is forming. Ready to take him. Take his seed. Desperate to be filled up and swell with his child. His hands move to his breeches, thick fingers clumsily fumbling with the laces, so needing to be in her after hours of picturing it in his head.

She wiggles her ass softly, not so much out of desire but more out of nervous tension, as she waits for him to do what he has planned. She closes her eyes, expecting the usual. A gentle prod of his fingers on her cunt, testing if it’s warm and ready for him. If it isn’t, he will spend some time playing with her pearl until he unlocks the sweet honey, fingers diving in once produced, gently prepping her for his cock that soon followed. It was the same every time, performed quickly, dutifully and without much fuss. A kiss was placed on her forehead and she was sent back to her chambers, her handmaids cleaned her up and she went to bed.

She thinks about the routine of it, comforting herself that tonight will be no different. He just wants you in a different position, that's all. The other way has gotten stale. Boring. She is snapped out of her thoughts when something wet hits the top of her cunt. Did he just? Her eyes open wide as she feels his spit drip down between her cunt slowly. Her breath hitches when the head of his cock follows in the opposite direction, catching on her pearl as he runs it along to reach the wetness both provided by both of them.

“Want to put a babe in you tonight,” His voice murmurs behind her, free hand resting on her hip as he runs his thick cock up and down her cunt. She lets out a breath at his words, pushing her flushed face into the bed as he pushes his head into her hole, a soft squeak leaving her as he pulls it back out again and runs his length along her cunt once again. The hand on her hip slides around to her stomach, pressing his hand against it, whispering as he pushes his length into her completely. “Want to make it swell here with my seed.”

Cregan’s hips start to roll, with each thrust his cock nearly leaving her before plunging back in, pounding harder and harder, bottoming out each time. After a few moments, once the shock had worn off, a constant string of moans and softly little grunt began to leave her mouth, wide and pressed to the bed leaving a little wet patch of drool beneath her. Both his hands move to grip her hips, gripping so tight the skin under his fingers begins to lighten.

“Perfect girl, will let me fill her up with my seed, won’t she?” She immediately clenches tightly around him at his words, never herding such filth leaving him. Her tightening cunt earning her a harsh grunt from his chest, one of his hands moving to her ass cheek, engulfing it as he grips it softly, pulling at the flesh so he can get a better look at himself splitting her open. “You want that too, don’t you, hm? Want to be full of my seed? Carry my pup?”

“I–,” She cuts herself off with a low moan as his other free hand reaches under her to pinch at once one of her nipples. She can’t form a coherent sentence, only moans and gasps leaving her mouth, too overwhelmed by all the new simulation and pleasures. His moments slow slightly as he bends over her, head coming down to rest on her shoulder, grunting as he places a wet kiss on her shoulder.

“Would you like that?” He whispers against her skin, slowly dragging himself in and out of her, as his heavy body pushes down on hers, one hand still playing with her nipple, the other now sliding to her stomach. He holds it flat over the soft skin, imagining how soon it will start to swell and get harder under his touch. He groans lowly. “Would you like me to fuck a babe in you?” Yes, yes, yes, yes….

It was a hypothetical question, they both knew she would be taking his seed either way. Not waiting for a response, he rises from her, his thick fingers shift down from her nipple to rub quick circles on her swollen pearl, the other gripping her hip. Silky wet walls clamping tightly down on him, tears beginning to fall down her redden cheeks, soft squeaks and moans leaving her dry mouth as his pace picks back up, driving his cock into her with no restraint.

Then her cunt begins to clamp in quick succession, loud gasps and moans leaving her, pushing herself pack against his cock as her orgasm rips through her entire body, back arching up and her toes curling, fisting the cotton sheets below her so tightly she may rip them. Cregan continues to thrust into her squelching cunt, fucking her through her orgasm, loud groan leaving him as her cunt tries to milk him.

Once she is done, he slows a little, removing his hand from her pearl, sure he can last a little longer, planning to let her recover a little before taking what he needs. But then he hears her small little voice, desperate and broken, mumbling softly into her sheets below them.

“Please… please… give me a babe,”

Before he can even think, Cregan’s balls tighten, a loud string of grunts leaving deep within his chest as he spills his seed inside of her. He continues to thrust softly as he rides out his own high, once hand to soothing stroke her lower back. Finally he stills within her, sighing softly as he pulls his softening cock from her. With their disconnection she goes to crawl forward, in need of the water jug by and bed and rest, but he tightly grips her hip, keeping her in place.

“Wait.”

Cregan’s eyes are glued to her sweet little cunt, all swollen and glimmering with her juices, watching as his seed slowly makes its way out, slowly dripping down towards her pearl. He reaches a finger towards her, connecting with the glop of seed before it can drip onto the bed, causing her to jump slightly at the simulation. He collects it on his fingers running it back up her cunt, gently pushing it back into the hole, pumping his fingers in and out slowly.

“Can’t let it go to waste, can we?”

Authors Note:

Day two! They will not all be this long, I was hoping to keep most to under 1K, but I simply just got lost with this one and i'm not even sure i like it that much lol.

Coming up next on Saturday; face sitting with the Realms Delight 😈

Taglist: @ilikechocolatemilkh @velathaheigeros @anthonys-viscountess @multiversemayhemme @bobaprint @madalos24 @ohhdearmargot @vastseamind @halloweenmyst @themoonwithprophets @nebulamorada @gojosgoddess @rainydazesublime @supaheroes @piper570 @yn-jackson

My masterlist can be found by click here!

Add yourself to me kinktober only taglist here.

You can add yourself to my general taglist here or ask in the notes!

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strawberryblue-blog · 3 days

Text

The way I look at you

—Jude Bellingham.

summary: Being Jude's Spanish teacher and having a secret relationship with him makes you feel insecure after a situation.

warnings: yes. +18. friends to lovers, smut, explicit content, unprotected sex, p in v, discomfort, angst, etc.

words count: +2.9k

The chill of the night hit your body as you stepped out onto the balcony of the hotel dining room as you felt suffocated by so many people around you. You sighed as the nerves prickled in your belly and you pushed the ideas out of your head. It was the end of the year party that the Real Madrid team gave for their players and so on, it consisted of a thank you and toast with the delivery of some awards to the players and that. It was your first time here and it was also the first time in your life that you felt so insignificant.

The people in there were nothing like you, well yes there were some worthwhile ones but most of them were rich and important people compared to you. With high ranks in their positions, famous, exemplary and recognized and of course, the players of the team with their families.

Being Jude Bellingham's Spanish teacher and agreeing to come here as his "casual date" had been a disaster. Especially since he had been introducing you to everyone as his "friend", only his good friend. You don't even know why you had agreed to come tonight in the first place, it was obvious that you and Jude were not in a serious relationship and you were just friends. You felt disappointed and confused.

"Y/n?" he asked peeking out the door as he saw you with your back turned.

You turn your body to see Jude walk out and close the door as behind the doors people chatted, laughed and toasted.

"What are you doing here?" he insisted at your half smile. "Here" he took off his jacket and rested it on your shoulders.

"Thank you" you murmured slowly with kindness.

"Everything okay?" his hand slyly caressed your waist. You nodded barely smiling slightly at him.

"I just needed air" you tilted your head and hugged your body.

His gaze quickly darts inward and you assume he's checking to make sure no one is watching and when he sees no one is paying attention, he moves towards you and kisses your forehead softly as he hugs your shoulders.

Your belly flutters as you feel his warmth on you but the urge to cry threatens. You hate not being able to hold his hand in public, hug him or kiss him. You hate having to say that you're friends, that you're just his Spanish teacher and that you have nothing more than a good, professional relationship.

You don't want to worry him but the urge to go home doesn't leave you alone. You know that if you leave now he will want to come with you and you don't want to leave him without telling him either but you don't feel part of this place anymore.

"I think I'll go home" you mutter somewhat exhausted.

Jude looks at you, pulling away a little. He nods, patting your arms.

"Okay, let's go" he says taking your hand to guide you. But you stop him before he can move forward.

You don't want him to leave because of you. It's barely past midnight and you feel a little guilty that he's leaving so early, even though he doesn't really like parties, this is his chance to get to know his classmates better.

"You don't have to come, I can take a cab" you tell him kindly.

Jude declines.

"I came with you, I'm going with you" he mutters amused.

You nod with nothing else to do. You know it's not easy to convince Jude and he won't let you go home alone. You accompany him to greet his classmates and elders, staying by his side while they finish talking.

"It's been a pleasure, sweetheart" says Maca, Lucas Vazquez's wife. The other girlfriends and wives greet you animatedly as you say goodbye to them.

When you both finish saying goodbye and greeting, you walk to the parking lot in complete silence. The ride home is silent, Jude even tries to ask you questions but you just answer with the necessary.

When you arrive home, Jude accompanies you to the door but this time you walk hand in hand, together and quietly. Your heart aches but you don't want to ask, you don't want to sound distant or ruin whatever it is you have. Though doubts begin to fill your head, tonight Jude has proven that you two have nothing serious and maybe it was only you who saw it differently. Maybe you thought you two could become something and you weren't.

As you pass the key in your door, Jude stands behind you and you turn to see him.

"See you tomorrow, Jude" you greet with a smile, taking off his jacket to give it back to him.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asks teasingly with a chuckle.

You deny with a smile.

"Then let me in" he points out and you scurry to let him pass quickly apologizing for your distraction.

He was so beautiful. His gaze stays glued to yours and your heart expands in your chest. His expensive black suit is delicately pressed, the white shirt is marked on his body so strongly. How could he be so handsome and gentlemanly like that?

His fingers caress your once arms up your cool skin. His face comes close to yours and before he kisses you, you take his hand and walk inside the house. You can tell he's surprised and probably confused, you haven't let him touch you since you got back but you honestly don't know what you want. Or what's right.

You take off your shoes and Jude sheds his walk a little following you around the house as you arrange things.

"There's something wrong" he mutters when you stop in the kitchen. His hands rest on his waist and he looks at you curiously.

"What are you talking about?" you ask pretending to be oblivious.

You set the glass of water down on the sink after drinking and offer him something but he declines.

"You look weird" he says as you walk back to your room to change. "Like you're upset or angry" he insists behind you.

"Nothing like that, Jude" you deny walking towards the bathroom in your room.

You remove your makeup with a damp towel and wash your face, finally combing your hair. Jude snorts sitting on the end of the bed as he continues to watch your every move. When you return to the bed, Jude is still there, waiting for you. You walk over to him and position yourself between his legs, cupping his face. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you closer to him as you gently kiss his lips in a simple, warm touch.

His large hands slide down your back until they reach the zipper of your evening gown, his fingers grope the area and he begins to unfasten the garment. His lips have never left yours as his hands take care of pulling down your straps and the bluish colored piece that covered your body, disappears from his vision and is left lying adorning the floor.

You cannot refuse, you are bewitched under his control. Jude is delicate and careful with you that makes your heart wallow with love. You can't be angry with him, you can't reproach him for anything, you can't help but feel special when his hands touch you, his eyes see you or his lips are on yours.

Your hands cradle his face as they pull away from his kiss, Jude's chest is heaving and yours is heaving with happiness, his smile is marked when he sees you in front of him, naked and ready for him.

"Tell me what it is, please" he murmurs as his eyes look deep into yours.

"It's nothing, Jude, don't worry" you say again with a small smile and he denies.

His face moves to your chest and he leaves a chaste kiss between the hollow of your breasts, starting to move over one of them and down to your belly. His hands outline your waists gently as his lips continue to place small kisses on your skin, making you gasp and try to hide them.

"You don't have to lie, I know you, Y/n" he insists against your skin, making you bristle.

You sigh in surrender. He really does know you and he knows something is wrong, despite your lazy effort to hide it.

"I felt overwhelmed, that's all" you barely say and he looks back at you with his eyes waiting for you to keep talking.

You don't want to keep talking, somehow you're a little embarrassed to admit that maybe you were your ideas and what you two had was casual or he really saw you as a friend.

The look in his eyes was still confused and his expression on his face invited you to keep talking.

"Lying about us... it makes me feel insecure like we're really nothing and.... I can't stand it" you shut up right away noticing how you exploded.

It sounded like complaining and you didn't want to reproach him. And maybe you're asking for too much but you don't want to keep feeling this.

You're in love with him, from the first moment you two met. It was two years ago when Jude had just arrived in Madrid. You became his Spanish teacher after your friend got you the job through an acquaintance, you started giving him classes, teaching him the basics and everything he would need.

Jude was a good student, he was smart, quick and patient but most of all he was a good man. Attentive, caring and brilliant, how could you not fall in love with him? And yes, you understood that you had at first only a professional relationship, after a while you had become good friends but now it was different.

You started to understand each other, to share moments together, to go out, to stay at home after classes and things like that. You got used to each other and he was the first one to ask you on a date, a romantic date where he kissed you and you started dating.

You knew you couldn't make it official, Jude was very well liked by the fans and a romantic relationship was the last thing they expected from him, either for publicity or for his performance on the field. So you decided to keep it private. Or at least whatever you guys had, it only went from the door in. You were going slow and testing but you were still his teacher and you still had to do your job, so you used to see each other from time to time.

You had never talked about it but you were fine. You started seeing each other more often, you went out to eat, he stayed at your house, you kissed, you spent the nights together, you did the typical couple things without having a title and it didn't bother you. Until today.

Tonight you were hoping that he would be able to recognize what you had and introduce you to everyone as more than just his friend and teacher. That wasn't the case though and so you were somewhat disappointed. Not with him, not with you, but with the situation. And with yourself.

"But it's okay" you say again trying to downplay it.

You didn't want to aggravate him now with all this reproach It wasn't even his fault, it was his decision and maybe you expected something else.

"No, it's not" his hands help you sit on his lap. "I should have asked you what you wanted, I just assumed we were fine like this but clearly we're not" he says concerned.

"It's nothing, Jude" you deny with a smile. "It's just stupid stuff from me, it's not your fault" you pat his arm.

His eyes look up at you shining and you smile at him reassuringly. Jude shakes his head and takes your face.

"I don't want you to think that, you're important to me, you know that?" he questions and you nod in relief. "You're my girl" he mumbles something and of course.

You laugh caressing his skin as he smiles towards you.

"You think they don't know, Y/n?" he asks laughing flirtatiously with his amused expression. "No one takes a woman as beautiful as you to one of those dinners just because she's your friend, do you think?"

Now his hands run down your body again and down to your back to grab you and turn you over your weight. With a squeal, you remain underneath his muscular body and you smile as you watch him lick his lips.

"They know very well that friends don't look at each other like that..." his eyes roam over your face admiring it in detail.

"Not the way I look at you" he continues to whisper as his hand runs down your leg, past your thigh and belly but his eyes never fail to meet yours.

It is an extraordinary connection, the way he makes your world spin, the way your heart pounds as you listen to him, the way his gaze penetrates yours with such dedication, admiration and praise. The stars can be seen in the deep, dark sea of his eyes and you are sure they reflect yours as well. He is really seeing you, not just looking at you, he is observing you, analyzing you, studying you, contemplating you.

At this moment you feel bad for having doubted Jude at first, it's obvious you were just overreacting but you can't help it when he's by your side. He is a gorgeous, polite and confident man. You are in love with every part of him and you were afraid you were the only one in the relationship.

With every touch from Jude, your skin would crawl, your heart would race and your chest would burn with excitement. Jude was the only person who had ever made you feel this special, made you feel full of joy and freedom. He was the one person you wanted by your side, that you wanted to kiss and love.

"You are the most precious thing I have" he says coming closer to your face. A smile appears on your lips and you hold his face warmly.

"And you are mine, Jude" you whisper sincerely.

Without another word, his lips impacted with yours and this time, there was no gentleness in his kiss. It was solid, hard and wild. Like a desperate, needy, longing kiss. His body was perfectly positioned between your legs and his hands began to spread over your body, caressing every bare corner of your skin.

His clothes were a problem just now and quickly your hands found the buttons of the lucid white shirt and began to detach one by one as you continued to eat your mouth. Literally. It didn't take long for him to detach your bra and throw it somewhere in the room with his shirt. Your hands contoured every hard muscle of his back and chest, tracing lines on his skin, on his juicy and soft skin.

Your tongues battled together, caressing each other as your hands couldn't reach out to touch each other where they could, feeling your fingers burn across his skin. You don't know how long you spent kissing but you know it was enough to make you both hot, needy. Your crotch ached and your erect nipples begged to be licked, caressed by his tongue with every movement, you wanted Jude in every way possible.

The grown bulge rubbed against your lower belly as you tried to unbutton his dress pants but your fingers trembled with pleasure as his kisses drifted to your breasts, kissing them in greeting and then taking one with his mouth, kissing it. Your hands held his back as his gasps echoed on your sensitive skin, you wanted him to touch you. And Jude knew it, his strong hands spread your thighs beneath him and his fingers slipped into your crotch, moving closer to your center, where he began to knead over the fabric and at the same moment his mouth bit one of your nipples, making you squeal. Your back arched and the tips of your toes compressed as you cried out his name.

"Fuck, Jude" you moaned sobbing.

He did it again, this time stroking your wet lips, up and down, helping you to spill your own juices over your center. He caressed your clit with his fingertip, while his lips continued to maul your erect and pink nipples. Your fingers had become anchored in the sheets, crinkling them as you sought to hold back from something as the waves of pleasure lapped at your body. When he groped your hot spot, a moan escaped your lips and you bit your tongue silencing yourself as his fingers made room in your hole. Wet, hot, tight. Again you pressed him against you again, needing his touch as his fingers began to pump inside you, in a torturous, overwhelming thrust in and out.

You were so sensitive, that at any moment you would come and even though you needed it, you wanted to end up with his cock inside you. With your hand you stop him and Jude quickly understands, pulling away from you to sensually pull your panties down your legs. A smile appears on his lips as you are completely at his mercy, your legs spread wide, your wetness dripping and your heart leaping.

He stood up a little to remove the last of his clothes that were also left on him and positioned himself between your legs again. Your fingers dug into his back as his crotch brushed against yours, seeking some relief from so much need but you both knew you didn't need just that.

His palms covered your breasts, which fit perfectly into them and he squeezed them hard making you squeal, streams of pleasure hit your wetness and you could feel how much of a client you were down there.

You wanted to feel him inside.

With a single thrust, you climbed over his body, sitting on his hard belly. His muscles tensed and he watched you from below, you on his body, hot and ready to take him. He bit his lips as your hands caressed his bulge, gripping it and squeezing it a little. A choked gasp came from Jude's mouth as you continued to move your hand over his swollen crotch.

After helping him remove his underwear, you went back to sitting on his lap as he straightened up to sit with you. You cupped his delicate face, kissing his lips patiently and softly. His full lips were your undoing, you would never tire of kissing those luscious lips as delicious as Jude's.

His hands roamed up and down your back as you took his member and positioned it at your entrance, playing a little at your center with the warm wetness of your pussy. Slowly you began to lower yourself down onto your cock, sinking down as you both had in unison as you felt yourselves fill. Your walls tightened around it as you began to move slowly over it, up and down to, smooth and deep, taking all the time to feel it deep inside you.

"Too wet and tight, baby" he moaned as he went all the way inside you.

He grunted holding his breath as you moved slowly and consistently. This was heaven itself, the way you guys fit together perfectly. How his cock slid inside you rhythmically, how his fingers held your body and his eyes kept seeing you.

Your hands cradling his cheeks as your gazes were connected as if you needed each other, talked to each other, loved each other. It was so intimate and exciting. Your hips kept moving with the help of his hands that had dug into your skin, that there would probably be marks tomorrow but you didn't care. It was proof of his love.

You didn't want to stop seeing his black eyes, shining in front of yours but you needed to kiss him. Your lips take his and it's a soft, romantic touch. His hands continue to control your movements on his cock, as you move over him. Up and down, side to side, in circles and in reverse.

The atmosphere feels tense, sticky, hot. His sweaty body, his stifling moans, the dirty noise of his sex, it was perfect.

It was wild but still had the intense, delicate touch of their love, enjoying every drop of pleasure that coursed through their bodies. Their mouths devoured each other as his hands circled your breasts and played with your hard, needy nipples. Your hands buried in her back, trying to hold you as your movements became erratic, digging your nails deep into her skin.

"Yes, shit!" you screamed as the world faded away between you.

You wanted to scream, to get it all out of your chest, to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, just you and him. Clawing at his back, screaming his name desperately, his body beneath yours as his teeth dug into your shoulders and his fingers left red trails on your skin. You wanted to love Jude, private or public it didn't matter to you but he hated that word.

Friends. You weren't friends, he'd said so himself. Friends didn't look at each other that way. The way you looked at Jude, the way Jude looked at you. With love. With hope, with illusion, with fascination. As if you depended on each other, as if your hearts were tied together, as if he was your air to breathe, as if you were his reason for existing.

Everything about Jude enchanted you. You loved him. Like you had never loved anyone, like you had never wanted anyone. Because you were born to be together, you found each other, you met, you knew each other, you fell in love, you felt each other, you belonged.

"Look at me, baby" he whispered in your ear as you kept moving sensually over his body.

You were ecstatic in a dimension completely out of the ranges, feeling how your whole body joined Jude's, how your hearts beat in tandem, how your breaths got lost in each other's skins.

You could barely open your eyes, you could barely move but you couldn't stop. It was overwhelming, the desperation to feel more united than before, in body and soul, in being and consciousness.

"You are my whole life" he whispered in his perfect accent that melted you.

Your eyes smiled as your mouth couldn't shut up and your hips couldn't stop moving, hard and fast, his cock buried deep in your core, hitting exactly the right spot.

"I love you, princess" he whispered again as his hands held your face in front of yours.

"I love you, Jude" you said before receiving the surges of pleasure through your system.

And you exploded. He exploded. It was glorious. The way you both climaxed together as you told each other you loved each other, the look on his face as he spilled inside you, as you received him, tight and hot. How your hearts toasted from your breasts and wallowed in ecstasy.

The desperate gasps and your bodies trembling as you fell surrendered on his shoulder and Jude gently embraced you. Your skins glistening with sweat and your breaths heaving for air.

You never said that word to you before. Maybe you were too excited and had imagined those words but you are sure you had said them. It had come out loud and clear from your mouth. More than from your mouth, they came from deep inside you. You loved him and you didn't want to hide it anymore.

"Shall we make it official?" he asks as your bodies fall limp on the bed.

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest. The words get stuck in your mouth, is he really serious?

"You don't have to feel pressured, I was just overreacting..." you try to say kindly, feeling guilty about earlier.

"No, I want to" he says firmly. "I want them to know that you're mine, that we're together" he insists and your chest vibrates.

You bite your lip as you hide a gasp.

"Come on, it's just you and me" he begs again with his sparkling eyes and that enchanting smile. "Do you really want to do this?"

A smile tugs at your lips and you nod as you feel your belly roar. Butterflies begin to flutter and make you sigh at his gaze.

You move closer to him and when your lips are almost brushing against his, you smile.

"Of course I do, Jude" you reply before crashing your lips against yours again.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fluff

312 notes · View notes

kurooh · 15 hours

Note

Hii sweetie, hope you're having a great day! Can I request some make up sex with Suna or Osamu?🤲 Thank you sm, I love your works btw<3

FUCK IT BETTER ☆ HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. apologies after an argument aren’t usually spoken in words with miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurou, or suna rintarou.

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, everyone is timeskip, rough sex, pussy slapping, choking, public sex, creampie, mild bondage, prone bone, edging

xoxo, juno ★ thank you so much!! i hope you’re having a great day too & i enjoyed writing this very much lol <3

— MIYA ATSUMU

“wanted ta run yer fuckin’ mouth, didn’t you?” you tearfully gasp at atsumu’s words, body jolting as his palm comes down briskly against your sobbing cunt.

“t-tsumu, i’m sorry,” you whine, mouth falling open at the second slap. your clit stings, pain and pleasure coursing through each and every one of your veins. “please, please let me cum.”

he practically barks out a laugh at your pathetic request, “ya expect me to give ya what ya want by bein’ that fuckin’ quiet?”

here you are, legs spread and aching from how long it’s been being countlessly denied your orgasm. earlier on, you and atsumu had gotten into a spat, shouting at one another over a simple misunderstanding. he’d tried to help you understand the issue before it had escalated into a shouting match, but you had been too stubborn to hear him out. now, hours later, you’re laid out on the bed, paying the price for all the shit you’d said to him.

“use your words,” atsumu bites, jeering you on with another merciless slap. when he lifts his hand, a glossy string of wetness connects your pussy to his palm. “‘m listenin’, baby. speak now or forever hold yer orgasm.”

“haa, fuck,” you curse, hips jerking lamely. “i’m sorry for earlier, i really am! b-but please, it hurts so bad.” the corners of his lips curl into a wicked smile at the way your voice desperately cracks.

“can’t hear ya,” he shrugs, ghosting his fingers over the tender skin of your inner thighs with an annoying huff. “gotta be louder for me, mhm.”

you’ve got no other choice.

“atsumu, please,” your voice is entirely choked and nothing but feeble as you beg, “i need to cum on your tongue, i-i really do..”

“that’s a good girl,” the praise rolls off his tongue and he smirks at your submission, then carefully lowers his head to your quivering cunt. you’re nothing less than soaked, ready to make a mess all over.

“just like that,” your back bows off the bed, eyes rolling back into the depths of your skull. “ah, ah shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

vibrations resonate through your entire core when he chuckles against you, sucking on your clit while he nudges two large fingers against your hole. “gonna open up f’me, baby?”

“always,” is your blissed out answer, hips lifting in an attempt to get some more stimulation. atsumu’s rock hard and rutting into the bed every now and then, but he ultimately decides that making you cum or not is more important.

“that’s my girl,” he coos as he stretches you out on his fingers, pushing into your g-spot and pulling whines from your lips. “this what ya wanted?”

“‘s not enough, tsumu, i need you to fuck me.”

“oh, really?” atsumu purrs, spitting right onto your clit, satisfied as he watches the glob roll down your cunt and onto his slick fingers.

“yes, really,” you cry impatiently, and he finally gives in. just the first heady drag of his tongue against your clit timed with the curl of his thick fingers ignites heat throughout your entire body. your tired legs tremble, wanting nothing more than to give out and collapse inwards — instead, you throw them over his shoulders, thighs squeezing on either side of his head.

brown eyes open and atsumu looks up at you while he lavishes your cunt with attention, cheeks pink and shiny in the low light of the bedroom.

“perfect, ‘s perfect, tsumu.”

slowly, you card your fingers through his blonde hair and nudge him closer, hips lifting and chasing his tongue.

“easy, easy,” his voice is low and smooth as he drinks you in like he hasn’t had water for days, “soon enough, ya brat.”

your heart thrums in your chest, practically bouncing around your ribcage as heat courses through your body and pools in your tummy. tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your breath comes in quick, little puffs.

“mmm, tsumu,” you whimper, thighs clenching around his head; he only speeds up his pace at your tone, knowing what’s sure to come next. “o-oh, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m so close,”

the unspoken please fills the space between each of your frantic words, and atsumu nods against you, eyes locking onto yours. he thinks you look nothing less than beautiful coming apart on his tongue and thrashing on the bed, his name falling from your lips like a sacred prayer.

“‘m cumming, ‘m cumming!” one last lick and you’re letting out a sob as you finally fall over the edge into sheer ecstasy, body completely jackknifing as you sit up and fully bend forward, leaning over him.

“tsumu, tsumu,” euphoric tears cascade down your face, gathering at your chin before they fall onto the back of his neck. he’s still licking and fingering you through it, pumping into your spasming cunt now rather than curling his fingers deep.

“ah, shit,” you gasp sharply, your high lost and replaced with the mix of pain and pleasure from overstimulation. quickly, you scoot your body back, legs falling away lamely as you pull yourself backwards

“nuh uh,” you hear, and you know he’s fully pussy drunk by the way he grips the skin of your ass so hard you can feel the crescent indents you’ll see tomorrow. atsumu looks up, face covered with slick and dripping. “‘s just the first, baby. ya thought i was done that fast?”

— MIYA OSAMU

“wait, samu, i—” your protests fall on deaf ears as osamu pushes you forward and flips up your skirt to reveal your damp panties. he slips a finger beneath them and snaps them into your pussy, pushing you down when your body jolts.

“no, ya fuckin’ started this. now yer gonna finish it, angel.”

“i didn’t mean to be to pushy, i-i really didn’t! osamu, we absolutely cannot do this here!”

you’re bent over the front counter of onigiri miya, minutes after osamu decided to close early on account of a petty spat between him and yourself. you’d been hounding him about closing early or at least leaving the place to his capable managers so you’d be able to spend more time together over the weekend, but he’d stubbornly refused. it got to the point where it would come up in conversation while you were helping around the restaurant, or when you two were home together, and it all came to a head this evening.

after the last customer walked out, osamu kindly dismissed the staff, letting them know that onigiri miya would be closing early tonight and that they could head on out. when he’d flipped the open sign to the closed side, you’d been holding all your stuff, ready to leave, but he’d kissed you hard and manhandled you behind the counter until he was pushing you over. from where you’re positioned over the center of the counter, you can see the road and passerbys across the street, even though it’s a little dark outside.

“anyone could see us! let’s just take care of this at home, i mean it.”

“stop talkin’, i mean it,” osamu grunts, yanking your panties to the side and smacking your ass so hard it stings for a while. “ya pissed me off on purpose, y’know. all that arguin’ ‘nd grabbing me whenever ya could.”

“it was supposed to be encouragement—”

“encouragement my ass!” he exclaims with a laugh, and you can hear him spit just before he pushes two slick fingers inside your tight cunt. your body subconsciously shifts, pushing back against him with the need for more. “yer just a damn brat, and i’m not letting ya get away with it this time, angel.”

you moan as he scissors his fingers in and out of you, the sound of your pussy growing louder and wetter. osamu smirks as he fingers you open; you’re so eager despite all your complaining earlier, aren’t you? clearly, he’s not the only one who’s been dreaming of fucking you in the restaurant after hours.

“hurry up ‘nd cum f’me,” he hisses, impatience driving him to move faster and harder. you only whine and bury your burning face in your arms, hands balling into fists in front of you. sweat accumulates on every inch of your skin, under clothes and across the unclothed slopes of your body. you’re not sure if it’s anxiety from the prospect of being caught, the intensity of the orgasm rising in your belly, or the thrill of it all.

“samu, feels good,” you mumble faintly into the countertop. he swoops a hand under your chin and lifts your head up.

“don’t get all shy on me now. go ahead ‘n tell me, what was that?”

“i said ‘s good, samu,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut as your cunt starts to spasm on his thick fingers.

“good girl,” he praises, using a free finger to rub at your swelling clit and chuckling at the way your body thrashes, hips banging into the counter as you start to pant. “there’s no one else in here, want ya to be loud for me. ya hear me, angel?”

“yes, yes i do, samu, just don’t stop—” each muscle in your body contracts as you cream all over his fingers with a loud moan that echoes through the dining area and bounces off each wall. osamu marvels at the ring of white at his knuckles before he tugs his fingers out of your clenching pussy and sticks them into a mouth before letting them go with a pop.

“alright, ‘s my turn now,” osamu huffs, painfully hard and throbbing. his mouth is full of your sweet aftertaste, head full of the sight of you cumming on his fingers. he won’t be able to get the picture of your arching back out of his mind for months.

“y-you’re too big, samu, i can’t take it just yet,” you cry, fingernails scraping against the countertop. he bottoms out quickly and gives a few sloppy, experimental thrusts.

“yes you can,” is his only response before he’s lifting your hips and pulling you back to meet each buck of his hips. onigiri miya fills with nothing but the sound of skin clapping against skin, along with your shared moans.

this is nothing short of intoxicating, all too rough and yet so fulfilling. osamu’s cock fits inside you perfectly, stretching you out and filling you up just enough — his heavy balls slap against your already sensitive clit. your toes uncontrollably curl in your shoes, body jolting each time his cock kisses your cervix during the occasionally extra intense thrust.

“so fuckin’ tight, shit. yer squeezing me like ya want me to cum already,” osamu comments, lips parting around a moan of your name.

“yes, please,” your back arches and you push backwards off the counter, offering him a better angle for him to fuck you at. your eyes roll all the way back into your head, and a breathy gasp leaves your lips as you feel yourself start to tense. “oh, oh my god, ‘m gonna cum again, i-i—”

his own groans cut you off as he reaches his own high, spreading your legs and rather mercilessly yanking you back onto his cock. osamu buries his cock as deep as he can and shoots ribbons of white into you, warmth filling you up while the excess spills out.

“oh, shit! get down, samu!” you say, dizzy and practically cross eyed; the sound of a knock on a window not far from where you both are wipes the bliss away immediately. you push off the counter and into him, and he falls right onto his bare ass and stifles a curse as you land on his lap. his cock is pulled from you and you’re dripping cum onto his lap behind the front counter while a customer tries to pull on the front door with a closed sign. the post nut clarity hits him and he leans in close to your ear.

“angel, that was amazin’, but the restaurant isn’t the place for this.”

“i said that earlier! this was all you!”

he remembers what you’re talking about but doesn’t want to acknowledge how wrong he was. “no, no ya didn’t. ya said it would be fine and i trusted ya.” when you try to protest, he cups a hand over your mouth and says you can’t talk about it right now because of the customer.

— KUROO TETSUROU

“just shut the fuck up, yeah? spread your damn legs.”

there’s nothing you can do but bury your face in the duvet; it’s stained from the drool dripping down your chin and the mix of mascara and tears that stain your cheeks.

“i said, spread em. did i fuck you dumb or something, doll? doesn’t seem like you understand what i’m saying, huh?”

“tetsu,” you whine, his name drawn out as it leaves your bitten lips. “‘s too much, i can’t take it anymore, tetsu!”

tetsurou yanks on his tie, pulling your bound hands back towards him and your head up. “aw, that’s too bad,” he grunts mockingly, “i don’t care. you can, and you will.”

he punctuates each word with a harsh thrust, your asscheeks rhythmically clapping against his thighs and slightly echoing around the room. tetsurou savors the weak moans that leave your lips and the pathetic little cries you can’t seem to stop letting out. you’d decided to prank him on the wrong day; he’d had a terrible day at work and was on thin ice, and when you’d been snarky with him as a prank, he’d snapped back.

instead of taking a moment to pause and assess the situation, then apologize, your tempers had both flared, leading to a nasty argument. tetsurou had repeatedly warned you that he’d needed some time to himself to shower and relax before getting into bed, but you’d been all too insistent in pissing him off. challenging his every word with sultry innuendos and bratty confidence had him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before dumping you onto the bed in a heap.

“i already came, tetsu, ‘m too sensitive,” you push, tits bouncing as he only yanks your hands back harder. some of the fabric audibly tears and he curses under his breath, changing up his once methodical pace.

the thick tip of his cock punches into your g-spot again and again, only going deeper and harder with each stroke. your cunt spasms and you moan lowly as you cum on his cock for the nth time; you’ve entirely lost count and tetsurou certainly doesn’t care to help you keep track.

“shittt, that’s it,” he praises, closing his eyes as a few beads of sweat roll down his temple from exertion. “i want you to cum over ‘n over, until you can’t fucking move.”

his balls clench and he gulps as he holds back another pesky orgasm, tensing his cock until the feeling finally goes away. it’s physically hard to keep it going, with the way your sticky walls are quite literally milking him and begging for his load.

“tetsu,” you whisper, voice small. it’s not like he’s discreet — you can feel him holding back inside you, prolonging this round because he’s gonna end up falling asleep afterwards. “cum in me, i need it bad.”

“what’d i say about asking the right way?” tetsurou groans, smacking your ass hard and startling you. it’s a mistake, because you clench hard on his cock and suck him deeper; you’re so hot and tight and he’s so fucking close to giving in.

even though you’re entirely fucked out and exhausted, soreness setting into every muscle, you’re still devious and absolutely determined to make him break.

“tetsu,” you whine, biting your lip as you push back against him, “want you to fucking ruin me, cum inside me ‘n fuck it deep, please,”

“s-sluts don’t get to make requests,” he chokes out, feeling a strong orgasm hurtling towards him. it’ll be more than difficult to hold this one back and he knows it. you do, too. the telltale twitch of his cock in your pussy means you’ve won this.

“c’mon, stuff it full,” is your next request, paired with the spreading of your legs and an insistent push back into his cock.

“you don’t deserve it,” he bites into his lower lip, resolve slipping away as he folds like paper. “ughhh, fuck, we’re not done yet— shit, ‘m cumming..”

and with that, plus a choked moan, he finally lets go, cock spurting white deep into your awaiting cunt. tetsurou’s way too tired to fuck it in until the cum’s pouring out, and lets go of the tie, falling on top of you with a gasp.

“shit, baby,” he bites into your shoulder, still not over the argument from earlier. “can’t move.”

“how do you think i feel? you’re crushing me!”

“it’s okay,” he hushes you, planting a sloppy kiss to the side of your face. “we can help each other over to the shower in a little while..”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you’re mine and i’m yours. don’t forget that again, pretty baby.” rintarou’s hand smooths over the tender skin of your throat just before he lightly grabs it, pushing you back against him.

“did you hear me?” his fingers squeeze at the sides of your throat and a gasp slips past your lips as you desperately nod your head, straining to speak.

“y-yeah rin, yes i did.”

“‘s just what i wanted to hear,” he rasps lowly, hips slamming into your ass and filling the room with the sound of an applause.

outside of the bedroom you both snuck off to, the party rages on, people whooping and shouting to the dance music. your cheeks are just as hot as his, your head spinning from the effects of drinking until you became quite tipsy.

rintarou had been sitting on a couch, tossing back shot after shot to show off to his friends and a few others how high his tolerance was. you’d watched wordlessly as a few girls flirted with him, trying to feel him up and coming back every time he pushed them away. he’d just shoved a girl off his lap and onto the floor when he turned to see you disappearing into the crowd.

rintarou found you with a full cup of vodka at the liquor table, and when he’d tried to pull you away to let you know his concern, you’d shouted in his face and doubted his loyalty, questioned your importance to him. he’d been quick to take you away and lead you to an empty room upstairs; in his haste to prep you and push inside, he’d left the door wide open.

“my baby can be a bit dumb sometimes, no?” he coos into your ear, hand falling from your throat as he gets you in a loose headlock. his forearm flexes against you, strong and muscular from all his working out.

“if you were me you would’ve felt the same exact way—” you utter, still frustrated, and he shushes you.

“gotta be a littleee stupid to think you don’t matter to me, pretty,” rintarou huffs, brows furrowing as beads of sweat race down his forehead and gather around his nose.

your chest heaves, tits bouncing in your clothes, shirt hanging off your shoulder. you’d both been focused on only getting the lower halves of your body stripped naked. rintarou’s hair brushes against the side of your face as he tucks his face into your shoulder and rocks his hips harder. he feels it now, the liquor — he definitely doesn’t have a high tolerance, it’s just slow to kick in.

“all mine,” he chokes out into your skin, taking in your smell and the taste of salt from the exertion of the night. “mine, mine, mine,” he grunts repeatedly, pulling back and cumming shallowly inside you.

“rin, ‘m so close,” your voice is whiny as he pushes through the euphoria and slides his cock out of you, then yanks your panties up. “why—why’d you stop?” you sound close to tears.

“oh, baby,” rintarou sighs, the flush high on his cheeks. “for now, i want you to keep it inside, soak in it a little. when we get home, you’re really gonna be in for it.”

warmth spills from you and into your panties, spreading all over your pussy as you move to find your lost clothes with a gasp.

“that’s not fair, i—”

“don’t care,” he shrugs dismissively, tossing you your shorts. “if you wanna be a brat like earlier you’ll have to get yourself off. got that, pretty?”

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 day

Text

Road Trip

Mean!Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Watersports, power dynamics, humiliation, degradation, desperation, emotional manipulation

Authors notes: I need Mean!Mommy!Wanda to tell me when I can and can't go

The car hummed along the highway, the gentle rhythm of the tires against the asphalt doing nothing to soothe your growing discomfort. You shifted in your seat for what felt like the hundredth time, biting your lip as you stole a glance at Wanda. Her eyes were fixed on the road, her grip on the steering wheel firm. She looked as calm and composed as ever, completely unbothered by your squirming beside her.

You had refused to go to the bathroom at the last rest stop, stubbornly insisting that you didn't need to. But now, a few hours later, you were regretting that decision. The pressure in your bladder was becoming unbearable, and every bump in the road made you wince. You felt as if she was doing it on purpose. Swerving more to hit the potholes rather than avoid.

"Mommy, I really have to go..." you finally whispered, your voice shaky.

Wanda didn't even glance at you, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh? Now you have to go?" Her tone was mocking, her eyes still focused ahead. "I told you to go earlier, but you insisted you didn't need to. So, you'll just have to hold it."

You whimpered softly, your thighs pressing together as you tried to find some relief. But it was no use. The need to go was overwhelming, and Wanda's cold refusal only made it worse. You couldn't help but squirm in your seat, desperate for any kind of reprieve.

"Stop moving so much," Wanda snapped, her tone sharp. "You're distracting me."

You froze, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you tried to stay still. But it was so hard. The pressure was building, and you felt like you were going to burst.

"Please, Mommy..." you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda let out a sigh, finally glancing at you with a look of mild annoyance. "Fine," she said after a moment, her tone clipped. "But you'll have to wait until the next rest stop. And if you complain one more time, you'll have to hold it even longer."

You nodded quickly, relief washing over you despite the lingering discomfort. You'd just have to hold on a little longer. But as Wanda's attention returned to the road, the minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, each second a test of your willpower. You were desperate, but you knew better than to push Wanda any further. All you could do was hope the next rest stop would come soon.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You shifted again in your seat, trying to ease the unbearable pressure, when suddenly you felt Wanda's hand leave the steering wheel. You froze, heart pounding as her fingers brushed against your thigh, creeping up until they hovered just above your bladder.

"Wanda, please..." you whispered, your voice shaky with desperation, but she ignored your plea, her eyes never leaving the road.

A wicked smile played on her lips as she pressed down firmly on your bladder. The sudden pressure made you gasp, your body instinctively jerking forward as you clamped your thighs together, trying to hold back the flood.

"Stop squirming," she commanded, her tone icy as she kept the pressure steady. "This is what happens when you don't listen, darling. You wanted to wait, so now you can suffer the consequences."

You bit your lip, tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to keep still, every ounce of your focus now on holding it in. Wanda's hand didn't let up, the relentless pressure pushing you closer and closer to your limit. She seemed to enjoy your helplessness, her smirk growing wider as you whimpered and trembled beside her.

"Is it too much, sweetheart?" she teased, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell you to do something. Or maybe..." She pressed down harder, making you cry out softly. "Maybe I'll just keep you like this for a while longer. Teach you a proper lesson."

You couldn't even find the words to respond, too overwhelmed by the desperation and the cruel pleasure she took in your suffering. All you could do was endure, praying that she would finally take pity on you—but knowing deep down that she was far from done playing with her little toy.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

When Wanda finally pulled into the rest stop, relief flooded you. The sight of the building made your legs tremble with anticipation, but the feeling was quickly squashed when Wanda placed a hand on your arm, stopping you from getting out of the car.

"Wait a moment," she said coolly, reaching into the backseat to rummage through one of the bags. You watched with growing anxiety as she took her time, finally pulling out something and slipping it into her purse. She didn’t say a word, just nodded towards the restroom with a smirk, her eyes glinting with something that made your heart race.

You followed her, your steps hurried, but Wanda kept a steady pace. She didn’t seem to be in any rush, and the way she sauntered towards the restroom only heightened your desperation. Finally, you both entered, and you made a beeline for the nearest stall, but as you reached to pull down your pants, Wanda's firm hand grabbed yours, halting you.

"No, baby," she said, her voice low and authoritative. The words sent a shiver down your spine. "Go just like that. I grabbed an extra pair for you."

Her command echoed in your ears, the weight of it pressing down on you as you stood there, frozen. You were too desperate to argue, too desperate to even think. The pressure in your bladder had reached its limit, and your body ached for relief.

"Go on," she urged, her voice softer now but no less commanding. Her eyes locked onto yours, daring you to disobey.

With a trembling breath, you nodded, the tears finally spilling over as you surrendered to her will. The humiliation washed over you, but the desperation overpowered everything else. You couldn’t hold it any longer, and with a soft whimper, you let go, feeling the warm wetness soak through.

Wanda’s gaze never left you, and as you finished, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "Good girl," she whispered, her tone dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you’d do as you were told."

She pulled back, reaching into her purse to retrieve the spare pair of clothes. "Now, let’s get you cleaned up," she said, her voice calm and composed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "We still have a long drive ahead, and I expect you to behave."

#ley writes #ley writes one shots #leys kinktober writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #mean!mommy!wanda maximoff #mommy!wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy wanda #sub!fem!reader

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p4p1l0nn · 2 days

Text

that nerd is mine.

aus. enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, etc. wc: 21.5k

pairing: nerd!haechan x cheerleader!reader

content warning: 18+ locker!room sex, smut/pwp, oral, degradation, switch!haechan!reader, several smut scenes, etc, mdni.

notes. didn’t plan for this to be so long, but it kinda got away from me. it’s slow at first, but i promise it picks up. this one’s for my fullsun enthusiasts <3

“you're gonna have to do something about that,” karina said casually, her arms stretched above her head as she rolled her shoulders. the soft crack of her joints sounded in the otherwise busy gym.

you don't have to ask what she means. your latest algebra grade had just been posted, and it wasn't looking good. you stare at your phone, the red numbers glaring back at you.

“i know,” you sigh, tucking your phone away and running a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the knot of dread building in your stomach.

your friend glanced at you as she bent to touch her toes, barely breaking a sweat from the warm-up routine. “i'm serious. if you don't get your gpa up, coach will bench you—or worse.”

“i'll figure it out,” you mumbled. you weren't just worried about passing algebra anymore. it was bigger than that now—your spot on the cheer team, your future, all of it felt like it was hanging by a thread.

karina straightened, eyes narrowing in your direction. “you better. last thing we need is you off the team.”

“yeah, yeah, save the motivational speech for someone else.”

the cheerleader huffs, clearly unimpressed. “uh-huh. i'm sure your algebra teacher's gonna be real charmed when you—”

“we're starting in five! hydrate yourselves well!” the cheer captain's voice cuts through the chatter of the gym.

the gym is a mess of movement. cheerleaders are scattered across the floor—some stretching, others practicing lifts, while a few attempt shaky flips that end in laughter and encouraging cheers.

on the far side, the basketball team runs drills, their sneakers squeaking loudly against the polished wood with each quick pivot and pass. the steady thud of basketballs hitting the floor mixes with the chatter of teammates calling out plays.

you reach down into your bag, searching for your water bottle, only to come up empty. a groan escapes your lips as you stand up abruptly from the bench, catching karina's attention.

“where are you going? we're starting in five,” she asks, watching you with raised brows.

“forgot my water. gonna grab some from the fountain real quick,” you say over your shoulder, already making your way toward the door.

you weave through the crowded gym, dodging cheerleaders and basketball players alike, your mind already half focused on the looming algebra test. in your rush, you don't notice the person bent over at the water fountain until you slam right into him, knocking him off balance.

“shit, i'm sorry!” you blurt out, stepping back quickly, eyes widening when you notice the familiar jersey number. it's na jaemin.

he doesn't acknowledge you at first, still bent over the water fountain, casually drinking like nothing happened. you stand there awkwardly, heart racing, until he finally straightens up.

he turns to you, sweaty from practice. his arm muscles glisten, his jersey clinging to his toned chest in a way that makes it hard to look away. you force yourself to meet his eyes, but he's already looking at you, that warm smile lighting up his face, his eyes sparkling like they always do. the smile that gets you every time.

“it's okay, don't worry about it,” he says, his voice easy. he nods toward your empty bottle. “refilling?”

“yeah!” you answer, a little too quickly, your voice coming out louder than you intended. you cringe inwardly, wishing you could dial it back. what a fool.

jaemin chuckles softly, reaching for the water bottle in your hand. his fingers brush yours, and a flurry of butterflies explodes in your stomach.

and just like that, you've lost your cool. again. right in front of na jaemin—the college's star basketball player, and the guy every girl (and most of the teachers) seem to fawn over. it doesn't help that you've had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, making moments like this even more unbearable.

you want to keep the conversation going, to say something clever or at least not completely embarrassing, but nothing seems to come out right. the words are stuck, swirling in your mind but refusing to form. so, instead, you blurt the first thing that crosses your mind.

“you . . . you didn't bring your water this time?”

as soon as the question leaves your mouth, you regret it. out of all the things you could've said, that was what you came up with?

jaemin finishes filling your bottle, tightening the cap with a twist, though he doesn't hand it back right away. he's still holding it, that easy smile never leaving his face.

“a team player who was in charge of bringing our stack of water forgot to grab it.” he shakes his head lightly, clearly amused by the situation, not at all bothered by the blunder. “we're all running on empty until someone does a water run.”

“i see . . . nervous for the game, aren't you?” you ask, mentally kicking yourself again. really?

jaemin's lips twitch into a smirk, “nah, we always win,” he lets out a soft chuckle, leaning in just slightly. “maybe it's also because of your cheering in every game.” he adds.

“so, you do know?”

you're grateful that this awkward conversation has turned into something more enjoyable. jaemin's conversation skills have a way of making everything feel effortless.

a flicker of hope stirs in your chest—maybe he likes you back? it's a thought that feels daring to entertain, but for now, you push it aside. just being able to talk to him like this is enough; it's the longest conversation you've had with him, and it leaves you feeling giddy.

he opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out, a high pitched voice interrupts from behind you.

“coach is calling for you, nana!”

a sigh escapes your lips, and you roll your eyes, already knowing who it is without even turning around. of course, it's him—your overly enthusiastic rival, always bursting into conversations at the worst possible moments. just when you thought you might finally get to have a real moment with your crush.

lee donghyuck (aka haechan), the top student on campus, the kind of person everyone admires for his perfect reputation and spotless grades. while you and haechan share the same level of popularity, the similarities end there. to you, it feels like a joke. he's got everyone wrapped around his finger, effortlessly charming every teacher and student alike, while you're just trying to juggle cheer practice and your sinking gpa.

you, on the other hand, are the cheerleader with loud pom-poms and even louder laughter. you thrive on the adrenaline of routines and the camaraderie of your team, but academically? you're more of a mess. you're passionate and energetic, but that often leads to your grades slipping as you prioritize practice over homework. while everyone else finds haechan endearing, you find him utterly annoying.

“pom poms!” he yells, his voice playful and teasing as he approaches, flashing that infuriatingly perfect smile. it's the nickname he loves to throw at you, a jab at your cheerleading persona, and it's enough to rile you up.

“sorry, not sorry,” he says with a little too much satisfaction in his voice, “i'm gonna have to steal mr. star here because he's got a more important thing to take care of.” his eyes trail over you deliberately, and you catch the way he looks you up and down, lingering for just a second too long.

your arms cross over your chest instinctively, and you shift your weight to one leg, tilting your hip in a way that screams sass. “eyes up here, perv,” you snap, raising a brow at him. “shouldn't you be revising for your school work or something? what are you even doing here?”

it's a fair question—haechan isn't on the basketball team, and he's definitely not the type to be caught dead near a gym. he's more the 'top student with his nose buried in textbooks' type. you don't even know how you know that, but somehow it feels like common knowledge.

“why, pom poms, you keeping tabs on me?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “i'll be going now.” you say, your tone clipped, already done with haechan's nonsense.

but just as haechan reaches out to snatch the water bottle from jaemin's hand, you're quicker. you grab it back before he even gets the chance to touch it, yanking it close to your chest with a sharp glare.

“it's mine, dumbass,” you mutter. you barely spare him a glance, turning back to jaemin with a softer smile. “see you around, jaemin.”

haechan lets out an exaggerated gag, clearly disgusted by the shift in your tone. “gross. why do you sound like a lovesick puppy with him but turn into a drill sergeant with me? it's disgusting!”

you ignore him.

“what about mark?” karina whispers next to you, barely looking up from her notebook.

“no. the guy laughs at everything. i'd be trying to solve for x, and he'd be cracking up over how the letter looks like two crossed legs. i'd fail even harder.”

karina smirks, scribbling something in her notebook. “okay, so you don't wanna pay for a tutor, and i've gone through almost every possible name on campus. you keep rejecting them all. except one . . .”

she pauses dramatically before adding, “last chance . . . haechan.”

your hand freezes mid-note. karina's got to be joking. “tsk, einstein?”

she nods, a mischievous glint in her eye. “yep. he's great with numbers, algebra's basically his second language. plus, he's used to tutoring.”

you groan, resting your forehead on the desk. “yeah, but it's haechan. i'm not friends with him, and you know that.”

“or,” karina drawls, tapping her pen against her chin, “he'd help you pass. your choice.”

you avert your eyes to the front row, where haechan sits, laughing along with his friends. look at him, you think, watching as he gathers his things, perfectly at ease with himself as the class prepares to switch. you're still glued to your seat, your thoughts swirling around what your friend just said.

“wish me luck for my presentation. i'll see you during lunch, bubble pops.” karina blows you a kiss and strolls out of the class, leaving you to sit there, contemplating. as much as you hate to admit it, she's right. if anyone could help you pass algebra, it's haechan. his reputation speaks for itself, even if he is the most annoying person you know. and as much as it pains you, you really, really need to pass.

before you know it, your feet are moving on their own, chasing after him.

“haechan!” you call out, catching up just as he's about to leave the classroom. he stops, clearly surprised to see you running after him.

“you got a minute?” you're practically blocking his way out, standing your ground as he gives you an unimpressed look. without a word, he moves to shove past you, but you sidestep to stay in his path.

“i need a tutor,” you blurt out, the words tasting foreign and awkward in your mouth. “and you're my best pick.”

“no thanks.”

did he just reject you?

your mouth falls open in disbelief as he walks right past you, out of the classroom, without a second glance. panic sets in, and you rush to catch up, your legs working double time to match his annoyingly fast pace.

“state your numbers. i'll pay,” you offer, the words flying out before you can think better of it. if karina heard this, she'd probably be on the floor, wheezing from laughter.

“i'm busy.” his tone is dismissive, and he doesn't even slow down. you stop dead in the middle of the hallway, staring after him, utterly speechless.

is he really blowing you off like that?

but you're not about to give up that easily. gritting your teeth, you jog again to catch up, slightly out of breath now.

“listen, einstein,” you pant, pointing a finger at him as you try to keep up with his ridiculous long-legged stride. “a little birdie told me you used to tutor people. and let's just say, i need some serious help before i fail this stupid class. so, are you really gonna leave me hanging?”

he finally stops, turning his head slightly to look at you, one eyebrow raised. there's an amused smirk playing at his lips, but no sympathy. “and why exactly should i care?”

you huff, barely able to catch your breath. “because if i don't pass algebra, i'll have to repeat the semester. and then, i'll still be here, haunting you for another year.”

haechan eyes you for a moment, clearly enjoying your desperation far too much. “so, your whole plan is to annoy me into tutoring you?”

“pretty much,” you deadpan. “now, are you in or not?”

“fix my computer.”

you give him a confused look, furrowing your brow. “huh? what does that have to do with me needing a tutor?”

“everything,” he replies, smirking. “you help me with my homework, and i'll help you with yours. i can't have my computer malfunctioning while i'm trying to ace my classes, right?”

“wait, so you're saying i have to do tech support in exchange for algebra tutoring?” you can't help but roll your eyes, trying to suppress a smile despite your annoyance.

“unless you'd rather face the possibility of failing your class, then yeah.”

“okay okay. but if i end up breaking your computer instead of fixing it, don't come crying to me,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly.

“deal,”he replies, that infuriating grin still plastered on his face.

“well? aren't we gonna exchange phone numbers so we can keep each other updated?” you cross your arms, annoyance creeping in as you stand in front of him, desperate for this to end.

haechan chuckles softly, shaking his head as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “my place tomorrow. room 304.”

you quickly punch in your number, eager to wrap this up. just as you're about to leave, he adds, “see you tomorrow, pom poms.”

“i have a name, einstein.”

“so do i. now scram.” he waves you off dismissively.

“rude ass.” you roll your eyes and turn away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a second glance.

the sound of your sneakers squeaking against the gym floor fades as practice wraps up for the day. it had been a long practice, but it was nothing you weren't used to. what you weren't used to, however, was the fact that tonight, you'd actually be going to his dorm for tutoring.

the very idea makes you groan inwardly.

you've already had to reschedule twice because, apparently, his “winning streak” on some game was more important than your need to pass algebra. the guy might be top of the class, but he's also annoyingly good at avoiding commitments that don't involve him showing off his skills—whether academic or in gaming.

“see you tomorrow, coach!” you call out, waving as you head out of the gym, your duffel bag slung over your shoulder. karina, having already left, had wished you luck earlier, teasing you the whole time about spending your night with haechan.

tonight. you sigh, mentally preparing yourself. you're going to his place for tutoring, and you'll have to put up with his smug face, his constant teasing, and probably his video games blaring in the background.

when you get back to your dorm, you shower, eat, and stare at your phone for a full five minutes. the time you'd agreed upon was closing in fast, and even though you didn't want to, you text him anyway.

you: still on for tonight?

the response comes almost immediately.

einstein: still winning. gonna be a little late.

you roll your eyes so hard they could fall out of your head. of course, he was. it takes another two rounds of coaxing, using what little patience you have left, before he finally agrees to wrap up his game and “be ready” in fifteen minutes.

fifteen minutes, your ass. but you grab your stuff and head over anyway.

as you approach the door to haechan's dorm, you hear faint shuffling sounds from inside. not just one set of footsteps—two, maybe three. voices murmur, laughter filters through the door, and you pause with your hand mid-air, hesitating.

he couldn’t have brought his friends over, right?

you frown, knocking firmly. there’s a beat of silence, then the door swings open, revealing haechan leaning lazily against the doorframe. his hair is tousled, like he’s been lounging around all day, and he’s wearing a hoodie and shorts. of course, he's still clutching a game controller in one hand, looking as if he’d just finished a match.

“you’re late,” he grins before you can even get a word out, the cocky look on his face making you grit your teeth.

“you’re the one who kept postponing,” you shoot back, arms crossing automatically as you stare him down.

he shrugs, unbothered. “well, do come in.” he steps aside, allowing you to pass, but the way his eyes flicker with mischief makes you uneasy.

the moment you step inside, you hear it—the distant sound of voices from the back of the dorm. not the muffled hum of a tv, but actual people, talking and laughing. you pause mid-step, glancing around.

haechan’s dorm is surprisingly clean, given the fact that he’s a notorious gamer. but the voices make it obvious that you’re not alone.

he shuts the door behind you with a soft click, watching as you scan the room. “oh, yeah,” he says casually, noticing the way your eyes narrow. “got some company.”

“you invited your friends?” you ask, irritation creeping into your voice. this was supposed to be a tutoring session, not a social gathering.

“well, johnny lives here.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “and, uh, a couple others came to hang out. no big deal.” he waves it off like it’s nothing, moving back to his gaming chair, settling in like this is just another day for him.

from down the hall, you hear someone calling out, followed by the unmistakable sound of johnny’s laugh echoing through the small dorm. great, you think to yourself, so it’s not just a tutoring session—it’s a tutoring session with an audience.

you sigh, glancing back at haechan, who’s already grabbing his phone, probably to check if he missed any messages from his friends about another round of gaming.

you roll your eyes, dropping your bag onto the floor near his bed. “you’re lucky i need to pass this class, or i’d be out of here.”

“oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” he quips, still grinning like he’s won some kind of victory. he tosses his phone onto the desk and stands, stretching lazily. “alright, let's get started before the gang decides to invade.”

but before you can open your textbook, the distant voices grow louder. footsteps thump closer, and johnny’s tall frame appears in the doorway, grinning when he sees you sitting on haechan’s bed.

“yo, what’s up? didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” johnny says, his deep voice carrying a teasing edge, though there's a warmth behind his words. it's the kind of tone only someone like johnny could pull off—your senior, technically, and definitely the more responsible of the two roommates.

you resist the urge to groan, flashing him a polite smile as your eyes flick to haechan. he's still lounging lazily on his chair, unbothered. of course. haechan meets your gaze and just shrugs, as if to say what can i do?

“just trying to get this one to study,” you say, nodding toward haechan with more than a little sarcasm dripping from your words.

johnny chuckles, shaking his head. “good luck with that. kid's got the attention of a squirrel on caffeine.” he folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe, towering over you both with the signature father-like aura he seems to carry with him effortlessly. “say, we're setting up a game in the rec room. you should join us. it'll be fun—better than babysitting him.”

there's a laugh in his voice, but you catch the sincerity too. johnny's cool like that—casual, chill, but respectful in a way that makes you reluctant to turn him down. still, you know if you say yes, it'll be game over for any chance at getting this tutoring session started.

“thanks for the invite, johnny,” you say, smiling, “but i really need to get this done.” you glance over at the said kid, who is now suspiciously quiet, his expression is unreadable as he messes with the controller in his hand.

“suit yourself. you know where to find us if you change your mind.” he pushes off the doorframe, giving haechan a knowing look before heading down the hall, his laughter echoing behind him.

the door clicks shut, and you turn back to haechan, who still hasn’t said a word. you narrow your eyes, already sensing the gears turning in his head. he’s always scheming, always got some half baked plan to get out of doing anything remotely responsible. sure enough, he leans back in his chair, stretching with exaggerated effort, like he’s been hard at work all day instead of procrastinating the tutoring session for the third time this week.

without warning, haechan starts rummaging through the mess on his desk—papers, textbooks, and crumpled wrappers littered across the surface. you watch as he digs through the chaos, mumbling to himself, before finally pulling out a battered notebook. he flips through it quickly, tears out a couple of papers, and then—with absolutely no warning—tosses them toward the bed where you’re sitting. the pages land in front of you in a messy heap, some of them sliding off the edge of the comforter.

“here,” he says, like he’s just handed you the holy grail. “you can read my notes. you’ll get it when you see it.”

you blink, staring at the papers now scattered on the bed. his handwriting is barely legible, and the equations are written in a way that only he would understand. he’s expecting you to catch up by just reading this? you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“that’s it? you’re serious?”

haechan, now fully reclined in his chair, looks entirely too pleased with himself. “yep. my notes are solid. trust me, my technique’s way easier than the textbook. just follow the steps—it’ll all click.” he smirks, kicking his feet up on the desk like he’s done his good deed for the day.

you pick up one of the papers, squinting at the chaotic scrawl of numbers and symbols. “right. and i’m supposed to figure out all of this without any help?”

he shrugs nonchalantly. “look, if you need anything,”—he pauses for dramatic effect—“please, hesitate to ask.” his grin widens as he flashes you a fake, overly sweet smile, and points to the door. “i’ll be with the boys. good luck, pom poms.”

before you can even argue, he’s already halfway to the door.

“haechan,” you call, frustration lacing your voice as you drop the papers back onto the bed. “this isn’t tutoring. i didn’t come here to just– look at your handwrit– i can’t understand a single thing?!”

he stops at the door, one hand on the frame, turning just enough to give you a quick, disinterested glance over his shoulder. “you’ll figure it out. you’re smart enough, right?”

you open your mouth to retort, but he cuts you off with a lazy wave of his hand. “don’t stress. if it gets too hard, just scream. i might hear you over the game.”

and with that, he walks out, leaving you alone with nothing but the mess of barely decipherable notes and the distant sound of laughter coming from the other room.

you stare at the papers, annoyance bubbling up inside you. he’s unbelievable. you didn’t come here to sift through his half hearted attempts at teaching. but still, part of you knows he’s not coming back anytime soon, and if you want any chance at passing this semester, it’s probably going to be up to you.

one thing’s for sure, you think, shaking your head as you pick up the notebook again. this is going to be the longest semester of my life.

the school gym was alive with excitement. students packed the bleachers, decked out in school colors, waving banners and signs. today was the big tournament against the neighbouring school, a rivalry that stretched back years.

the first half of the game had gone effortlessly in your school’s favor. every basket was met with cheers, and your team moved across the court with smooth, calculated ease. it was like they’d been born for this moment, and the energy in the gym mirrored that confidence.

your squad was on fire, too. each cheer landed perfectly, each chant igniting the crowd, and as a flyer, you knew the stakes were high every time you were launched into the air. but you nailed every move, trusting your team as they caught you mid flight. the adrenaline surged through your veins, pushing you to perform with a precision and power that matched the basketball team’s energy. the crowd roared with each flip, lift, and toss, and for a while, it felt like you couldn’t lose. everything was falling into place.

until it wasn’t.

the neighboring school rallied in the final moments of the game. what started as a comfortable lead for your team slowly evaporated as their players found their rhythm. shot after shot, they closed the gap, and in the final few seconds, they sank a three-pointer that sealed the game.

the gym erupted into a mix of cheers and groans. you, like everyone else, could hardly believe it. one moment, victory had seemed so certain; the next, it had slipped through your fingers.

you wiped the sweat from your forehead, heart still racing as you made your way back to the locker room with karina at your side. she was fuming, muttering under her breath about how the referees missed a foul call in the last quarter. you didn’t have the energy to argue. your legs ached from the constant jumps and tumbling, and all you wanted to do was collapse on the bench in the locker room and breathe.

“do you want cold water?” karina asked. you glanced at her, but before you could answer, your eyes caught something—or rather, someone—over her shoulder.

haechan.

he stood just a few feet away, talking to some of his friends, and for a moment, it was like time slowed down. the gym’s noise—the chatter, the footsteps, even karina’s voice—faded into a distant murmur. his eyes locked onto yours, and it was like the world shrank to just the two of you in that split second. your heart gave an involuntary lurch, a mixture of frustration and something you didn’t want to name bubbling to the surface.

you fumed inwardly, your breath hitching. the memory of his words from weeks ago came crashing back, stinging more than it should. it took everything in you not to glare.

“i’m good,” you said flatly, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to karina. “i’m gonna head to the locker room first.”

without waiting for a reply, you made a beeline for the door, the need to escape his presence outweighing everything else. your chest felt tight, anger simmering beneath your skin, but you pushed it down as you entered the locker room.

inside, the rest of your cheer squad was already there. some of the girls were sprawled out on the benches, half-heartedly stretching while others chattered excitedly about the game.

“the refs were a joke!” one of the girls was saying. “chenle got pushed so hard, i thought he was gonna snap.”

“jaemin should’ve gone off on that guy,” another chimed in. “no way mark kept his cool. did you see him? he looked ready to fight.”

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you listened to them. this was a normal occurrence in the locker room. no matter if it was basketball or football season, the girls were always talking about the same thing—the guys. it was as if every game turned into an analysis of who got hit, who looked the best sweating it out on the court, or who they thought was going to snap first. and honestly? you couldn’t blame them.

being a cheerleader meant you got front row seats to all the action, and let’s face it, being able to see the most popular athletes up close wasn’t exactly the worst thing. whether it was jaemin’s focused scowl or mark’s calm but ready-to-fight aura, the girls never missed a chance to comment. sometimes, you wondered if half of them joined the squad for the eye candy alone.

the chatter bounced off the walls, filling the space with laughter and banter, but you found yourself tuning in only half heartedly. normally, it was easy to get swept up in the conversations, joining the girls as they dissected every glance and gesture from the players like they were breaking down the final moments of a rom-com.

but today? today, it just felt like background noise.

minutes later, karina walked into the locker room, still tossing you the water despite your earlier refusal. “figured you’d need it anyway,” she shrugged, sitting down beside you. her expression softened as she watched you take a sip, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

“did you two fuck?”

her voice sliced through the quiet, blunt and unfiltered. you choked, coughing as you set the water bottle down on the bench. the locker room suddenly felt too small, like the air had thickened around you. you blinked at her, trying to gauge whether she was serious or just being nosy.

karina leaned in, eyes gleaming with curiosity. her expression was one of genuine innocence, though. she didn’t know. not really.

you sighed, slumping against the cold metal lockers. it’s been weeks since that first and last tutoring session with haechan, and despite how much you’ve tried to forget about it, his words still hang over you like a shadow.

why did i think this was ever a good idea?

your thoughts began to wander, taking you back to that night. the tutoring session that was supposed to help you salvage your failing algebra grade. the session that turned out to be the last one. it had been weeks since then, but the memory still stung as if it were fresh.

twenty minutes. that’s all it took for you to realize haechan wasn’t even trying. you sat there, flipping through the pages of his notes, trying to make sense of the chaotic scrawl of equations and half solved problems. but nothing clicked.

so, you decided to leave.

but instead of just leaving, you felt compelled to find him and at least say goodbye. maybe even confront him about why he’d been half-assing the tutoring sessions.

you followed the sound of voices from the game room down the hall, but before you could push the door open, you heard them.

“since when did you start tutoring?” one of his friend had asked.

“i've been tutoring for a while,” haechan had replied casually. “started again because she's desperate.”

you had stopped in your tracks, just out of sight, heart sinking as the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“well, technically speaking, you’re not exactly doing your job?” another voice chimed in, laughter following the remark.

haechan snorted. “yeah, well, i don’t want to tutor her. it’s a waste of my time.”

you’d felt sick to your stomach, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. he went on, his voice dripping with arrogance as he called you a “typical cheerleader,” saying you cared more about your reputation than actually learning, and that teaching you was “useless.”

you hadn’t expected much from him, sure. you knew you two didn’t get along. but hearing it out loud? it hit differently.

and then he hit you with the final blow, the words that still echo in your head late at night: “yeah, right. she’s smart, but girls like her? they use their brains for one thing. she’s just trying to get close to us. i’m just the stepping stone. once she’s done with me, she’ll latch onto one of you guys. classic cheerleader playbook.”

you’d stood there, frozen in place, tears burning the back of your eyes, the embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. haechan had reduced you to a stereotype—a shallow, manipulative girl who only cared about attention. and the worst part? he actually believed it. he believed that was who you were.

karina nudges you, snapping you back to reality. “you’re spacing out. so? did something happen between you two?”

“the tutoring didn't go as planned.”

karina raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your vague response. “did he say something?”

you didn’t want to talk about it. not again. but the words spilled out anyway. “he’s a jerk. and i let him get under my skin. that’s all.”

“gah damn—”

“i know.”

“no, no, no, i mean, gah damn!” her eyes widened as she pointed behind your back. the sudden squeals and gasps from the other girls in the room quickly followed. confused, you glanced over your shoulder, already knowing the cause of the excitement.

there, just outside the girls' locker room, stood jaemin.

he wasn't inside, of course—he was leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, basketball jersey still clinging to his frame, his cheeks flushed with a shy smile. luckily, the girls had all finished changing, so it wasn't as if he was walking in on anything. still, the sight of him sent the locker room into a frenzy.

jaemin. why was he here?

he pointed, and it took you a second to realize he was gesturing toward you. blinking, you glanced around before pointing to yourself. “me?” you whispered.

the star player nodded, still smiling, his eyes meeting yours.

before you could react, karina nudged you with a knowing smirk. “go. now.”

you could feel the girls watching, but your feet carried you forward, slipping past jaemin and out of sight. once you were both out of view from the prying eyes of the locker room, you turned to face him, still caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

“you can't just casually walk up here, peeping tom,” you said, hoping you hadn't sounded too rude.

jaemin chuckled, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “i wasn't peeping, i promise,” he said, his smile disarming. “i came to invite you and the girls to dinner tonight. you know, celebrate the season.”

he shrugged, eyes flickering with an almost embarrassed look. “we lost the game, but we're still gonna celebrate.”

you blinked, processing his words. “oh . . . dinner?”

“yeah,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “figured it'd be fun for all of us to unwind, win or lose.”

“sure,” you said casually, trying to suppress the smile creeping up on you. “the girls are probably gonna be excited.”

but not you—not with einstein likely there too. you'd just ignore him, right? just like you'd been ignoring his texts. easy.

you forced yourself to focus on jaemin, who was still smiling at you in that soft, effortless way that made your pulse skip. “i'll see you tonight?”

“i'm looking forward to seeing you tonight,” he replied. that simple sentence sent a flutter through your chest, and you suddenly felt a little breathless, like you were falling headfirst into something you couldn't quite grasp.

you waved goodbye, and jaemin did the same, his smile lingering as you both turned to leave. the moment you stepped back into the locker room, though, the atmosphere was completely different. it was almost electric, like a charge in the air, and you didn't need to be a mind reader to know why.

the girls were suddenly very occupied with whatever they could find. one was aggressively retying her already perfectly tied shoes. another was staring way too intently at her phone, scrolling through what looked like her home screen. a few were casually adjusting their hair in the mirror, glancing at each other with barely concealed grins. it was obvious—too obvious.

you bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag from the locker. “i'm guessing you guys heard that?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “we're invited.”

the reaction was instant. the fake nonchalance crumbled as the room erupted in cheers and high pitched squeals.

“i knew it!” one of them shouted, clapping her hands together.

“oh my god, jaemin asked us?!” another girl practically bounced in place, eyes wide with excitement.

you couldn't help but laugh as the girls swarmed around, chattering about the dinner plans, talking over one another in their excitement. it was like watching a bunch of kids on christmas morning.

karina sidled up to you with a smirk. “so, how long before you and jaemin become a thing?”

“don't start.”

“i'm not starting anything!” she shot back, hands up in mock surrender.

you shot her a look, but before you could respond, one of your teammates chimed in, “you two wanna come grab some ice cream with us?”

karina didn't hesitate, “oh, absolutely!” she turned to you with an expectant look.

“i'll catch up with you girls later,” you said, glancing down at your still unchanged clothes. “i need to get out of this uniform first. is it by the café near the park?”

“yeah, that's the one,” your teammate nodded before waving. “see you later!” she headed out with karina, who gave you one last knowing glance before following.

as you started to change, you heard karina's voice echo from the door—

“oh, and by the way, that water earlier? it was from haechan.”

and with that, she was gone.

──

school. practice. repeat.

that's the cycle you find yourself in now. with the weekend having passed in a blur, you're back with your usual routine. the celebration from a few nights ago was a blast—friends reuniting and sharing stories. you had fun, even managing to dodge haechan throughout the night (sticking close to karina or jaemin—though the latter didn't offer much conversation either, thanks to his friends constantly interrupting). haechan made a few attempts to talk to you, but you expertly averted your gaze, pretending to be deep in conversation with someone else.

now, as cheer practice wraps up for the upcoming big football game, you find yourself in the girls' locker room. of course.

“are you coming?” karina asks, glancing back at you with an eager smile. ice cream has become the cheer team's favorite hangout spot after practice.

“nah, i'll stay back. find me at the library if you need me,” you reply, pulling off your top and tossing it into your locker.

“ugh, what encyclopaedia are you reading nowww?”

“actually, it's the history of mathematics,” you shoot back, trying to sound nonchalant.

karina bursts into laughter. “wow, you really are a nerd! i can see it now—”

you roll your eyes, chuckling at her exaggeration. “algebra test on thursday. better start studying.”

“gosh, you're starting to sound like mr. einstein over there.”

you shoot her a deadpan look, but before you could come up with a witty comeback, she's already sprinting toward the exit, calling back over her shoulder, “wish you luck, bubble pops!”

one by one, the girls had filtered out, leaving you alone to finish up. you pulled the hair tie from your ponytail, letting your hair cascade down over your shoulders.

turning to your locker to grab your shirt, you caught a glimpse of a silhouette by the exit out of the corner of your eye. curiosity tugged at you, and your gaze followed the figure, and—

“haechan! what the fuck?!” you exclaimed, spinning around. you quickly grabbed your shirt, holding it in front of your half naked body while trying to angle your back toward the locker. in your rush, you accidentally slammed the locker door shut behind you, realizing you'd left yourself awkwardly exposed.

haechan’s eyes shot down to the floor, his ears glowing red. “s-sorry! didn’t mean to walk in on you,” he stammered, looking everywhere but at you.

“what are you even doing here? perv much?”

“i’m not a perv! i came to talk to you,” the latter said defensively, raising his hands. “you’ve been ignoring all my texts!”

“you barged into the girls' locker room just to ask me about that?!”

“well, what else was i supposed to do when you’re acting like i don’t exist?” he finally looked up, his gaze flitting nervously between you and the floor. "thought you might actually answer if i showed up in person.”

“you could’ve waited outside! normal people do that!”

“i didn’t plan on walking in on you half naked!”

he fired back, still clearly flustered, but standing his ground. “but i couldn’t wait anymore. we need to talk.”

you rolled your eyes, still fuming but aware of the absurdity of the situation—standing half dressed in front of him while he tried to explain himself. “yeah? well, now’s not exactly the best time for a chat.”

as you turned to finally open your locker, you barely had time to blink before haechan grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you back around. your back hit the cold metal of the locker with a soft thud, and suddenly, you were face-to-face with him. his hands stayed firmly on your shoulders, pinning you in place as his breath ghosted over your skin.

“gosh, you never listen, do you?” he growled through gritted teeth, leaning in closer. “always got something to say, running that mouth like the brat you are.”

the words were meant to bite, to provoke—but they did something else too. the intensity in his voice, the way he had you trapped between him and the locker, made your heart race for reasons you didn’t want to admit. you hated him—or at least you were supposed to. yet somehow, his ability to talk you into corners, the way he wielded his frustration, was working you up more than you'd like.

you scowled, trying to mask the fact that your pulse was speeding up for all the wrong reasons. “and you’re pissing me off, so fuck off!” you snapped back, though it came out breathier than you’d intended.

“how am i pissing you off, huh?” his voice dropped, almost taunting. “all i’ve been trying to do is talk to you, and you’re the one avoiding me. so tell me, how exactly am i pissing you off?”

your mind blanked for a second. the more he spoke, the closer he got, until his face was just inches from yours. you could see the constellation of moles dotting his tan skin, perfectly aligned, and suddenly every coherent thought you had vanished. why was it so hot in here? you struggled to find your voice, but all that came out was,

“everything.”

haechan’s lips curled into a slow, teasing smirk. “everything? you’ll have to be more specific.” he tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement, like he knew exactly how to push your buttons. “i don’t get it. what about me pisses you off so much?”

you clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your composure. the way he was looking at you, the smugness in his tone, it was driving you insane. he knew he was getting under your skin, and the worst part? he was enjoying it. you could feel the words bubbling up inside you, frustration building like a dam about to burst.

“you!” you spat out, your voice rising. “you piss me off by always getting in my way with jaemin! you’re always there, acting like you own the damn place!”

with each word, you inched closer to him, the anger fueling your every step. your noses were almost touching now, the heat of his breath mingling with yours. haechan didn’t back down either—he pushed himself forward, lowering his head just enough to stare you down, his gaze dark and intense.

“go on,” he muttered, his voice low, challenging. “say it.”

“you’re smug, you’re cocky, and just seeing your face annoys the hell out of me—”

your heartbeat quickened, a mix of frustration and something else entirely as you pressed forward, your chest brushing against his. you were toe-to-toe now, and before you realized it, your breasts were firmly pressed against his chest. the contact jolted through you like electricity, and for a split second, the air between you both shifted—awareness creeping in, making the moment heavier.

that’s when it hit you. you were still in your bra and cheer skirt, practically half naked, standing so close to him that you could feel every rise and fall of his breath. his gaze flickered down for the briefest moment, noticing the way your bodies were pressed together, but then his eyes met yours again, burning with something that only made your skin tingle more.

still, your pride refused to let you falter.

“y-you . . . you piss me off just by being h-here,”you said, though your voice had dropped, losing some of its venom as you felt his body heat radiate against you.

“you sure that’s what’s pissing you off?”

“fuck yo—”

suddenly, his hands were on your face, pulling you in. his lips crashed into yours, silencing your words with a fierce, angry kiss. it wasn’t soft or sweet—it was rough, almost desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long.

his lips tasted faintly of something sugary—popcorn, probably from the match he’d just watched—but there was also a hint of salt, the mix making your head spin.

before you could even process it, his hands slid down your body, boldly cupping your still covered breasts. his touch sent a shiver down your spine as he pushed you back against the locker with more force than before. his lips pressed harder, swallowing the soft moan that escaped you, the kiss becoming a battle for control neither of you were willing to lose.

your hands, almost instinctively, moved to his chest. through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the taut muscles underneath—harder than you expected. since when did a nerd like him work out? you wondered, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned chest. the realization only made your pulse quicken, your mind spinning with questions you didn’t know you had about him.

“i’m taking this off,” he said, breathless, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. his hands ghosted over the clasp of your bra. “can i?”

you could only nod, words failing you in the heat of the moment. in a swift, practiced motion, he expertly snapped the clasp open, the ease of it catching you off guard. what other surprises does he have? you thought, momentarily stunned by how fast he was.

before you could dwell on it, his mouth latched onto your breast, warm and wet, while his free hand kneaded the other. the feeling was instant, sending shivers down your spine. you instinctively reached up, fingers tangling in his soft brown hair, which smelled faintly of citrus and something woody.

a groan rumbled through him at the tug, his breath hot against your skin, and it sent a pulse straight through you.

his other hand, no longer content to just hold, drifted down to tease circles on your stomach. goosebumps broke out along your skin as his fingers traveled lower, finally cupping your core with a harsh grip that made you hiss.

“you don't have to be so rough, jerk,” you managed to grit out. his response? he sucked harder on your breast, making you gasp, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain.

“oh, but you like it,” haechan muttered against your skin, the smirk in his voice so clear it made your blood boil. his mouth never left your chest, teasing and toying with you as his fingers pressed harder against your core, rubbing through the fabric.

“yeah, but i didn't say you could be a cocky asshole about it,” you sigh, hips arching into his touch.

haechan let out a breathy chuckle, clearly amused, but you weren't going to let him get away with it. you tugged his hair sharply again, a little warning. his reaction was instant—eyes squeezing shut as he groaned at the sting. it was satisfying, seeing him react to you like that.

“don't push your luck,” you muttered, a smirk tugging at your lips. but before you could gloat any further, he pressed a last, teasing kiss to your breast and sank to his knees.

his hands gripped your hips firmly, almost gently, like you were something delicate. when you reached for your skirt to take it off, he stopped you with a quick look.

“leave it.” he muttered, his eyes dark as he ducked underneath the fabric, getting beneath your skirt in a matter of seconds.

you barely have time to react before his mouth is on you, tongue flicking out and hitting your clit with no hesitation. it's so sudden that you have to bite down on your lip, refusing to make any noise that might give him the satisfaction. you can handle this. or at least, you think you can—until he licks you again.

the way his tongue moves, teasing with soft strokes and little flicks, has you gripping the locker behind you, your body betraying you. you fight the urge to moan, swallowing it down, but he's relentless, not giving you an inch of control.

he pulls back just enough to say, “already so wet? you're loving this, aren't you?”

his finger slide into you as if proving a point, the stretch making your thighs tremble.

you grit your teeth, hating how easily he's getting to you. one finger pumps in and out, and another pumps in, curling just enough to make your body jerk, and you feel like you might explode right there. you can't believe how a nerd like him is quickly working you up.

“f-fuck,” you hiss under your breath.

as his tongue keeps teasing your clit, a sharp wave of pleasure hits, and you gasp, louder than you intended. your body tightens around his fingers, but you still refuse to fully let go. you're not giving him the satisfaction.

but haechan notices. he always notices.

“you trying to hold out on me, baby?” his voice is cocky, and it only fuels your irritation.

“funny how the girls were right . . . guys really do suck at giving head,” you taunt. “and you're just proving their point.”

it's a low blow, and you know it. but it does exactly what you want.

haechan stops mid-movement, his tongue pausing against your skin as he looks up at you, his expression darkening. the absence of his touch makes you shiver in frustration.

“if you're gonna be a brat,” he says flatly, his voice lower now, more serious. “i'm not gonna make you cum.”

your breath hitches at his words. is he serious? he can't be, right? but the look on his face tells you he's not bluffing. a wave of embarrassment washes over you because as much as you want to defy him, the idea of him denying you like this . . . turns you on even more.

before you can respond, he moves away from between your legs, standing up as his hand moves to his zipper. with deliberate slowness, he pulls it down and frees his length, fisting it lazily. his eyes stay locked on yours, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips.

you can't help it. your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, his hand stroking himself as if you're just there to watch. the heat between your legs only grows worse, the ache pulsing through you, and you're caught between being turned on and pissed off. that dark, smug stare of his makes you feel small, powerless. you hate how much you want him right now, how badly you need the release he's withholding.

you're losing this game.

“hyuck . . . p-please . . .” the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, voice shaky, desperate. “need to cum . . . it hurts . . .”

he lets out a short, humorless scoff, shaking his head. “look at you,” he murmurs, the amusement clear in his voice. “acting all tough, but now you're begging?”

his hand continues its slow, steady motion as he strokes himself, and your stomach clenches at the sight.

you don't care about pride anymore—you just need to feel something. anything.

“you don't deserve it yet, baby. not until you stop being a brat.”

desperation wells up inside you. “please, i'll be good! i promise, just . . . just make me cum,” you plead, your voice shaky and breathless.

“are you my little princess? 'cause i could just leave you like this . . .” there's a hint of seriousness that makes your heart race.

“i'm sorry . . . please, hyuckie . . .” the way you say his name feels like a plea and a promise all at once.

a smirk spreads across his face as he removes his hand from his aching cock. “you're gonna be my good girl, hm?”

“yes! i'll be your good girl,” you reply eagerly, heart pounding with anticipation.

without wasting another moment, haechan doubles his efforts. his fingers slip back inside you, moving in a way that makes your head spin. meanwhile, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking and teasing with just the right amount of pressure.

“a–ah fuck, ngh! i'm gonna cum! can i please?” you gasp, panting heavily as the pleasure builds.

he hums in response, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core, making you see stars. it pushes you over the edge, and you cum hard, your thighs shaking violently as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

“cat got your tongue?” his voice is smug, and it makes you want to roll your eyes, but you're still coming down from the high, your body spent.

you let out a small laugh, breathless. “i need to breathe,” you joke, your chest still heaving. but then something dawns on you.

he hasn't cum yet.

“wait, w-what about you?” you ask, your gaze dropping down to his crotch, confused.

he smirks again, completely unfazed. “i came, see?” he gestures down to his boxers, and your eyes widen as you spot the sticky mess in the fabric, cum staining the material.

“seriously?” you ask, incredulous. the idea of him getting off just by watching you cum is a bit shocking. “you came just from that?”

he shrugs casually, pulling up his pants as if it's nothing. “what can i say? you looked hot.”

“you're just now seeing that, nerd?”

you run a hand through your hair, tugging at the strands to make yourself look halfway decent. adjusting your clothes quickly, you try to shake off any trace of what just happened. the last thing you need is for anyone to catch on, even though the gym's empty. the chances of someone hearing you and haechan earlier are slim to none, but still, the thought nags at you.

the silence stretches between you two, but it's different now—less tense, but still heavy with everything that's just happened.

haechan breaks it first.

“sorry.”

haechan's voice cuts through the room so suddenly that it stops you mid-motion, halfway through putting your shirt back on.

you shrug, pulling your shirt over your head, trying to play it off as if nothing happened. “forget it. i didn't mean anything by it.”

“no, seriously.” his voice softens, catching you off guard. “i didn't know you were that serious about jaemin.”

you feel your face heat up and quickly look away, fumbling with your clothes. “i-i'm sorry too, okay? i wasn't thinking straight,” you mutter, stuffing everything into your bag.

it's awkward now, the air between you both feeling heavier. you're about to reach for your bag when haechan casually grabs it, slinging it over his shoulder like it's nothing.

“i'll walk you home,” he says, his tone too easygoing for the tension still hanging between you.

“b-but someone might see us,” you stammer, glancing around nervously.

haechan smirks. “they know me as your tutor, pom-poms. relax, we're not gonna get caught.”

“right. good point . . . and uh, about that . . . sorry i've been ditching our sessions.”

“i'll make sure you don't pull that stunt again. we had a deal, remember?”

“yeah, well. i'm not actually going home, though.”

haechan frowns, confused. “where are you going then?”

“the library,” you shrug.

he stops in his tracks, turning to you with a teasing grin. “you? the library? since when do cheerleaders read?”

“what, a cheerleader can't have hobbies? i'm allowed to read, nerd.”

“damn, baby, i must've knocked something loose in your brain earlier. you're slowly becoming more like me.”

you shove him playfully, rolling your eyes. “gross.”

his grin only widens. “touché. what kind of books are you reading then?”

“just some literature.”

haechan's eyebrows shoot up, his expression shifting from playful to downright perplexed. “literature? like actual books with more than ten pages? you're telling me you're reading something that requires even more brainpower than i have?”

“see, cheerleaders aren't all airheads.”

he mock gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “you're telling me you're more of a nerd than me? literature is like, the ultimate level of nerd—so many pages, so many words.” he's rambling, clearly caught off guard, but then his face shifts, like he's putting the pieces together. “wait, wait, wait . . . let me guess—are you a literature major or something?”

you smile sheepishly and nod. “guilty.”

the boy blinks, genuinely surprised but impressed. “damn, i didn't see that coming. you're officially nerdier than me. you're not just out here reading, you're studying literature? and i thought i was the brainiac between us.”

“you're not the only smart one, you know.”

“yeah, i see that now. you might just be rubbing off on me with all this reading stuff.”

you raise an eyebrow. “me? rubbing off on you? you've got it backwards.”

he laughs, nudging you back. “okay, fine. but seriously, a literature major? that's pretty cool. what's your favorite book then, miss smarty pants?”

you pause, thinking for a moment. “right now, i'm stuck on the catcher in the rye. it's intense, but in a good way. you'd probably like it. it's about this guy who thinks he's too smart for everyone else. kinda like you.”

he groans, rolling his eyes dramatically. “oh great, so i'm that predictable, huh?”

you grin. “pretty much.”

“you do know how to flatter a guy.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “yeah, well, i'm also studying for my algebra test, so it's not all fun.”

“i can stay with you if you want. help with the studying part, i mean.”

you hesitate, not sure if you want to spend more time with him or if that would make things more complicated. “uhh, if you want to, i don't see a problem with it. maybe you can help me with some . . . equations?” you offer, half joking but also kind of hoping he says yes.

he reaches out and pats your head lightly. “of course, pom poms, that's why i'm here, remember? now come on,” he grins as he starts walking ahead of you, your bag slung effortlessly over his shoulder, like he's done it a million times.

but something nags at you, a knot tightening in your chest as you watch him. “um, haechan?”

he stops mid-step, adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder as he turns to face you. “yeah, princess?”

there's a flutter in your stomach at the way he says it, the nickname rolling off his tongue with such ease that it almost sounds affectionate. you clear your throat, trying to steady your voice. “uh, earlier . . . it was just casual, right?”

haechan stands in front of you, calm, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other gripping the strap of your bag. his face is unreadable for a second, but then his eyes—those deep, warm eyes—catch the light, and something in them flickers. it's fleeting, but it's enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

you've never really looked at him like this before. he's always been the teasing, arrogant nerd who got on your nerves, but right now, standing there with his messy hair and that calm, steady gaze . . . he's beautiful. and you wonder, with a sudden pang of regret, how you've never noticed it before. how much you've missed, blinded by your irritation.

but you panic, realizing the silence between you is stretching too long. “i mean—” you stammer, the words tumbling out too quickly, like you're trying to catch up with your own thoughts. “i wasn't expecting anything or . . . hoping for anything from you or-i-it's just . . . i just felt like i needed to clarify, you know?”

you're blabbering now, and it feels stupid, like you've just dug yourself into a hole you can't get out of. your heart is pounding in your chest, and you're painfully aware of how awkward you must look, fumbling with words that aren't coming out right.

haechan doesn't laugh. he doesn't tease. he just stands there, looking at you in that way that makes your insides twist. and then, with a small nod, he says softly, “of course.”

it's so simple, so calm. but there's something in his tone that you can't quite place.

for a second, you wonder if maybe-just maybe-he's not as unaffected by what happened as you thought. but he's already turning away, leading the way out of the gym, leaving you standing there.

“come on, pom poms, don't wanna fail that test, do we?”

there's the haechan you know—playful, always teasing, the jackass who can't help but have something to say. but as you watch him throw a lazy grin over his shoulder, you notice a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before. a small smile creeps onto your face, and your heart feels just a little fuller.

it hits you how easy it is to be around him. even with all the teasing and his cocky attitude, he makes everything feel lighter. as much as he drives you crazy, you kinda like it. you kinda like him—this annoying, nerdy tutor who, despite all the nonsense, seems to actually care in his own weird way.

even if he's a jackass half the time, he's your jackass—and a soft one at that.

──

you aced it. within three days, you managed to catch up on everything in algebra, and you might actually be starting to like the subject—or maybe it was just because of your tutor. thanks, haechan.

thursday classes rolled by quickly. you could barely remember what you learned in each period; all you could think about was the algebra test. now, you're walking to your last class with karina, chatting and laughing about random stuff.

“seventy-nine percent! miss smarty over here!”

you roll your eyes, a grin breaking through. “one good test doesn't make me a genius.”

“pfft you used to fail everything,” she counters, nudging you with her shoulder. “at this rate, you'll be tutoring me by the end of the semester.”

“don't count on it. it was just one test!” you laugh, shaking your head as you approach the classroom.

as you both enter the classroom, your eyes dart to haechan, who's sitting in his usual spot at the front. you give him a quick smile and mouth a silent “i passed.” his response is a cheerful thumbs-up that makes your heart flutter just a little.

you settle into your usual spot at the back, but suddenly, you hear a commotion nearby.

“what the f— haechan!”

“i call dibs!” he yells, playfully pushing karina aside.

you blink at them, confused. “why are you two fighting over a seat—”

“it's my seat!” karina protests, hands on her hips, glaring at haechan.

“not anymore,” he retorts, plopping down in the chair beside you with a satisfied grin.

“you think you can just swoop in and take my seat like that?”

without a word, she reaches out and tugs on haechan's hair, causing him to yelp dramatically.

“ow! what the hell!” he winces, rubbing the spot she pulled. “okay, okay! in exchange—i'll give you jeno's number. fair?”

karina pauses, pretending to consider it, but then her hand goes right back to his hair, tugging even harder this time.

“ow, ow! okay! i'll hook you up with him! or i'll ask him to approach you—whatever you want! just let go!”

“just making sure i get something out of this.” karina winks.

the poor boy winces, still rubbing his scalp. “jeez woman—”

“but seriously, can you ask him to sit with us during lunch? i mean, he's so cute, and i want to get to know him better.”

haechan looks at her with a mock—serious expression, pretending to think hard. “hmm, that might be a bit of a stretch. i'll need to pull some strings. i'll see what i can do.”

“i'll hold you to that,” karina says, flashing haechan a devilish grin before dramatically marching to his usual seat at the front.

you stare at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted, wearing a confused expression as he unpacks his things like he's right where he belongs. he puts on his glasses, the ones he only uses to see the board from far away, and adjusts them casually before turning toward you.

“hi,” he says with a grin.

“hello to you too?”

haechan's hand suddenly squeezes your thigh, as he whispers, “face the front, or you're gonna get in trouble.” his fingers glide away slowly, teasingly, and you can feel your pulse jump, repeating his words in your head.

or you're gonna get in trouble.

your lips curl into a mischievous smile. so this is how you wanna play, huh? you straighten up and turn toward the front as the professor begins the lecture, but focusing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. your thoughts are racing, already plotting your next move.

you sneak a glance to your side. sure enough, haechan is jotting down notes in his notebook. his glasses have slid slightly down the bridge of his nose, and his head is bent, fully immersed in whatever the professor is saying. his lips, those soft plush lips, are gently puckered as he concentrates. the sight makes your stomach flip. god, i want to ruin him.

you're not even pretending to pay attention anymore. his woody scent fills your senses, his very presence making everything around you buzz. your pulse quickens as your mind fixates on one thing: i want to ruin him.

you crave his attention, his reaction—anything that will make him take control again, just like he did in the locker room. without thinking, you slowly bring your hand up, resting it on his thigh, your fingers brushing lightly over his pants.

you wait for a reaction, any sign that he's affected by your touch—but nothing. not the slightest flinch, not even a glance your way. is he that good at hiding it? you wonder. or maybe he thinks you're just being casual. either way, it's not the reaction you're looking for.

so, you push a little further.

your hand inches higher, testing the boundaries. it's only then that you feel his body stiffen. his breath catches for just a moment, and you glance over to see his face slowly turning a shade of crimson. his jaw tightens, and for the briefest second, his gaze flickers down to where your hand is-hidden under the table, but doing things it definitely shouldn't be. he swallows hard, then looks up at you, eyes flashing a silent warning.

you meet his gaze with an innocent look, wide eyed and all too knowing. it's a look that always works, and you use it shamelessly. you pretend you don't know what he's warning you about, all while your hand moves higher, edging dangerously close to where he's most vulnerable. the higher your hand goes, the redder his cheeks become.

and then, without breaking eye contact, you squeeze.

his whole body tenses, a barely suppressed gasp slipping from his lips. you feel a rush of power surge through you, like a predator who's just caught their prey. the way he's struggling to keep it together—god, it's intoxicating.

despite how tense he was, how his breath seemed to catch every time your hand moved, he couldn't find it in himself to tell you to stop. the thought of how close you were to his crotch, the slight brush of your fingers, only made him harder.

just as the professor turned to scribble something on the whiteboard, you sneaked a quick glance under the table. his bulge was unmistakable, straining against his pants. you couldn't help yourself-you traced a slow, teasing circle on his inner thigh, deliberately avoiding his growing erection but grazing close enough to drive him mad.

it was working.

he's trying so hard to act unbothered, but you can see it-the way his grip on his notebook tightens, the way his jaw clenches.

“b-baby,” he whispers, so soft it's almost drowned by the noise in the room.

“yes, hyuckie?”

his expression said everything—eyes half lidded, brows drawn together like he was barely holding on. he looked like he was suffering, like he needed you to touch him more, right here, right now, in the middle of class. his lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. just the look on his face was enough to tell you how badly he was craving your touch.

you felt his thigh tense under your palm, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his desk. his need for you was written all over him, and you could feel the heat pooling between your own legs, your body reacting to how desperate he was.

“p-please . . .”

“we're in the middle of class,” you whispered.

“i know but, baby, please, do something,” he whispered, desperation lacing his words as he shifted in his seat, trying not to let the heat between you both distract him.

you pulled your hand away, pretending to be innocent. “w-what? y/n, please!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with need. you had him right under your spell.

“shush, eyes on the front,” you said, mimicking his earlier tone. the groan that slipped from his lips caught the professor's attention.

“mr. lee? is there something the matter?” the professor asked, looking over his glasses with a raised brow.

startled, haechan straightened, trying to play it cool. “um, n-no, sir,” he stammered.

“very well then.” the professor turned back to the whiteboard, and just then, he called on haechan again. “mr. lee, can you explain the significance of the treaty of versailles?”

"uh-y-yeah?" haechan replied, his confidence wavering.

“surely this question is easy for you,” the professor pushed, expecting a solid answer.

you couldn't resist. as haechan struggled to focus, you reached down, groping his bulge through his pants. his breath hitched, and he fought to maintain his composure, his eyes darting nervously between you and the professor.

“uh, the treaty of versailles . . . was in 1919?” he blurted out, his voice shaky.

you continued your teasing, stopping just short of the tip.

“uhh . . .” he mumbled, clearly struggling to think. “it-uh, it . . . imposed reparations on germany?”

“mr. lee?” the professor prompted again, not buying haechan's floundering.

his breath quickened as you kept your movements steady, your fingers pressing down a little harder. “yeah, uh . . . that's right!” he stuttered, but all you could focus on was the way he squirmed in his seat, desire clouding his judgment.

“good job, but can you elaborate on that?” the professor asked, clearly expecting more detail.

“y-yes,” he said, but the words were barely a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, pleading for more of your touch.

“the. . . the reparations,” he stammered, “put a huge financial burden on germany . . . which, uh, led too . . .” his words trailed off as you gave him a teasing squeeze right at the tip of his cock.

“come on, you dirty boy, you're the top student, right? answer him.” you mumbled.

“led to . . . resentment and uh—”

the professor raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by haechan's lack of composure but nodded. “correct. but i expected more detail from you, mr. lee.”

“y-yes sir. sorry,” he managed, but his eyes were glazed. he was holding on by a thread.

haechan let out a shaky breath, leaning forward with his head resting on his arms, trying to keep it together. his voice was barely a whisper, just for you. “i'm gonna cum . . .”

his whole body was tense, and his hand gripped the edge of the desk, trying to keep from making too much noise. he was watching your hand through hooded eyes, the way you palmed him through his pants, the pressure making him lose it. his hips jerked a little, needing more of your touch, and he looked at you with a desperate kind of hunger.

but just when he was right on the edge, his breathing uneven and his muscles tight, you pulled your hand away. his eyes widened in disbelief, and before he could beg you to keep going, you leaned in and kissed his shoulder quickly. your voice was soft and teasing when you whispered, “after class.”

he groaned softly, burying his face into the crook of his arm as he sat back up. there was no arguing with you now. he had no choice but to wait.

the minutes dragged on endlessly. haechan could hardly sit still, shifting uncomfortably as the pressure in his pants only worsened. every second felt like an eternity, and he kept stealing glances at the clock, praying for the class to finally end. he couldn't focus on anything, aching for the moment when the bell would ring.

when class was finally dismissed, you quickly gathered your things, offering a quick wave to your friend across the room.

“i'll see you around, babes!” you called out to karina, your voice carefree as you headed toward the door.

he scrambled to grab his stuff, still moving slow because he was trying to hide the obvious bulge in his pants. he was walking awkwardly, trying to stay calm even though he was still ridiculously hard. you were already a few steps ahead of him, and he watched as you glanced around before spotting an empty janitor's closet.

you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind you. he stumbled in after you, groaning as you practically dragged him along. “fuck, baby, that was so hot,” he said, leaning against the wall.

“shut up and just kiss me already,” without waiting for a response, you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss.

the boy melted into you instantly, his hands sliding to your hips, pulling you closer as he let out a long, relieved moan into your mouth. his body reacted on instinct, grinding against your leg, desperate for any kind of friction. you felt the way his hips moved, eager and needy, and you couldn't help but smirk against his lips.

“humping that cock like the desperate nerd you are, huh?” you teased, pulling back just enough to catch the frustration on his face. his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, and a soft whimper escaped him. his wide, pleading eyes locked with yours, already completely at your mercy.

“words, hyuck,” you command. “i need you to use that pretty mouth of yours.”

haechan's grip tightens on your hips, his breath coming out in short gasps against your neck.

“i-i'm too dumb to even talk . . . p-please,” he pleads, voice trembling, his body pressing into yours desperately. the tension makes your head spin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs, wetness already soaking through your underwear.

slowly, you start stripping, teasing him with every move. his eyes never leave you, dark with desire, his lips parting slightly as he breathes harder. you shimmy out of your top, then your bottoms, leaving nothing but skin between you. he's biting his lip now, unable to look away.

“fuck,” he breathes out, eyes roaming over every inch of you.

“come here,” you whisper, reaching for him. he practically stumbles into you, arms wrapping around you like he needs to hold onto something solid. his lips move urgently over your skin, kissing, nipping, and leaving a trail of warmth down your neck and shoulders. his breath is uneven, little whimpers escaping him as he tries to steady himself, but his body's already shaking with what's about to come next.

you giggle softly, but it catches in your throat when his cock brushes against your thigh, hot and hard. a gasp slips out, and you feel him press closer.

“god, you're so wet,” he murmurs.

at this point, the both of you are completely naked, bodies pressed against each other as the heated makeout session stretches on, your breath mingling with his. your lips part just enough to breathe out, “put it in, hyuck . . . i wanna feel you.”

his eyes darken, and he gives you that teasing smile. “you gonna let me fuck you raw, baby?”

you nod frantically, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you look around the small janitor's closet. it's cramped, the shelves packed with cleaning supplies and barely enough room to stand, which leaves no other option. your back is pressed against the wall, the cold surface contrasting with the heat of your skin, making you shiver. the scent of bleach lingers faintly in the air, but all you can focus on is the way his body feels pressed up against yours, the tension building as you wait for him to move.

“y-yes, yes please,” you plead, your voice soft, breathy. “touch me, do whatever you want.”

the sight of his cock, thick and long, makes your mouth water. you can feel your thighs clenching. slowly, he lines himself up, his tip brushing your entrance before he starts to push in. you both moan in relief at the same time, the sensation overwhelming. he's big, stretching you inch by inch, and your body tightens instinctively around him, making him groan deep in his throat.

the sweat on his face glistens under the dim light, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose as he presses into you. haechan pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his jaw clenched tight as he tries to hold back. you're so tight, your walls clenching around him, and the stretch makes your legs tremble. your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, eyes squeezed shut as you try to breathe through it, your lips parting with little gasps.

he leans in, his lips brushing softly against your neck, peppering kisses all over your exposed skin as if to comfort you.

“fuck, you're perfect,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as his hips slowly begin to move, dragging his cock in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes.

each roll of his hips has you gasping, fingers digging into his back as your body clings to him.

haechan's hips still as he looks down at you, concern softening the lust in his eyes. “you okay, baby?”

you blink your eyes open, barely able to focus with how full you feel, but then something hits you. glancing down between your bodies, you realize with a rush of need that he's only halfway in. the sight makes your stomach clench, and a greedy want pools inside you. you're so full already, but you want more.

“'m okay,” you pant, your voice trembling slightly. “g-go deeper.”

that's all he needs to hear. a low groan escapes his lips as he leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours for a second, and then, slowly, he begins to push further in, stretching you even more. your legs tense around his hips, your hands flying to his shoulders as he sinks deeper, inch by inch. the feeling is intense, overwhelming, and your breath stutters in your throat as his hips finally meet yours, flush against you.

his cock fills you completely now, reaching places that haven't been touched in so long that your body practically sings from the sensation. the pressure, the fullness, it's almost too much, and yet not enough all at once. a broken moan escapes your lips as you try to adjust to how deep he is inside you.

your body is still adjusting to the overwhelming fullness when an idea flashes through your mind. without even warning him, you push lightly against haechan's chest, just enough to create a little space between you. his brows furrow in confusion for a split second before you lift one of your legs, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder.

both of you gasp, his breath hitching as he sinks even deeper into you. you feel the stretch, as he presses right against your core. it's like he's filling every inch of you, hitting spots you didn't even know could be reached.

“fuck, so deep,” haechan groans. his hands grip your thigh where it rests on his shoulder, keeping you steady as he draws back slowly, only to thrust back into you even harder. the new angle allows him to hit deeper with every stroke, the head of his cock pressing insistently against that sensitive spot, making you cry out.

his pace quickens, hips snapping against yours with a bruising intensity. you almost lose your balance, your fingers scrambling for purchase on his arms as his thrusts become more relentless. the slapping sound of skin meeting skin fills the cramped space of the janitor's closet, mingling with the slick, obscene noises of your bodies moving together.

“baby a-ah . . . you're so w-warm,” his voice rough now, nothing like the sweet tone from earlier. the tightness of you wrapped around him is clearly driving him insane, his eyes half lidded with lust as he watches you struggle to keep up with his brutal pace.

“a-all for you,” you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your voice shaky as the pleasure overwhelms your ability to think straight. you're practically cock drunk at this point, each thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. you can barely form a coherent thought, let alone worry about how loud you both are.

haechan leans in, his lips brushing against the skin of your calf resting on his shoulder as he grinds into you even deeper, chasing the high that's building between you both. his glasses are fogging up, slipping down his nose, but he's too lost in the feeling of you, the way you're clenching so desperately around him, to care.

there's a sudden shift in haechan's eyes as he glances down at you—taking in the sight of your flushed face, the little drool pooling at the corner of your lips, hair plastered to your forehead, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

you, on the other hand, can feel the tension in the air shift, the intensity in his gaze making you squirm. it's like he's seeing right through you, stripping you down to nothing but raw desire, your most vulnerable self on display for him alone.

he snaps.

without a word, his hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but controlled as he presses you harder against the wall. he stretches your leg higher, folding you almost painfully, making you feel every inch of him buried deep inside you. his rhythm becomes more frantic, hips slamming into you with an erratic need that has your moans growing louder, desperate. the small space feels suffocating, the hot air thick as your breaths come out ragged, and you struggle to keep up.

“my princess,” haechan breathes out, his voice dark and low, each word rolling off his tongue slowly, possessively. “this cunt, all of it, it's mine, right? only for me?”

he doesn't wait for an answer, leaning in to lick into your mouth, swallowing your gasps as his lips move hungrily over yours, leaving sloppy kisses between his words. “taking my cock so well, baby. like a fucking good girl.”

you can't even think straight, your body trembling as the pleasure builds higher, every nerve ending lighting up at his rough words, his ruthless pace.

“need to cum, hyuckie,” you whimper. “please . . .”

his eyes darken at your plea. “then cum for me,” he growls.

the moment the words leave his lips, you're gone. your orgasm crashes through you, head falling back against the wall as your body seizes up, a muffled cry escaping your throat. haechan tightens his grip on your neck, muffling your sounds, keeping your pleasure a secret between the two of you in the tiny space. he fucks you through your high, each thrust prolonging the waves of ecstasy until you're completely spent, trembling and gasping for breath.

he pulls out, barely able to hold back, stroking himself furiously as you drop to your knees, mouth wide open, ready for him. the sight of you like this—eyes glossy, lips parted, waiting-pushes him over the edge.

“my dirty baby,” he groans, his voice wrecked as he spills into your mouth, hips jerking as he releases. you take it all, swallowing greedily, looking up at him with an innocent gaze that has him nearly collapsing above you.

with one final kiss, haechan helps you stand on shaky legs, both of you still giggling like kids caught in the act as you help each other get dressed. haechan tugging your shirt back into place and smoothing the wrinkles while you busy yourself wiping the fog from his lens, exchanging playful glances.

he fusses over your hair, combing his fingers through the tangled strands. you let out a sudden laugh, catching him off guard.

“what, baby?” he tilts his head, amused by your sudden outburst.

“does my hair look like i just got fucked in the janitor's closet, or does it look normal?” you ask, eyes sparkling with mischief.

haechan grins wide, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before chuckling. “nah, you look like a witch.” but even so, he gently fixes some of the more stubborn strands, tucking them behind your ear. “there, better.”

“thank you,” you say with a soft smile, running your fingers through his hair next, trying to neaten it up. “now that's the nerdy haechan i know.” you giggle, and he watches you with this soft, almost dazed look.

he bites his lip, hearts practically shining in his eyes as he looks at you. “we should celebrate. ice cream? maybe?” he suggests, his voice all of a sudden way too excited for someone who just finished what you did.

you blink at him, momentarily lost. “huh?”

“for passing your test. it's a good start, don't you think?” he grins, and that funny feeling in your stomach stirs again, catching you off guard.

“oh . . . right.” you laugh, still surprised by the change in pace. “yeah, sure, why not?”

“i'm free this weekend. you can come over to my dorm if you want,” he says, his excitement infectious. “and don't worry, i'll have the ice cream ready before you get there.”

“that'll work,” you reply, smiling.

haechan beams, his smile so genuine it makes your heart skip a beat. he leans in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, leaving you speechless and flushed as he pulls away. “i'll text you, baby,” he murmurs softly.

you swallow, the warmth spreading through your chest as you nod. what is this feeling? you can't quite place it, but it lingers long after his lips leave yours.

“i'll go out first, or . . . ?”

“you go first,” you reply, still trying to process everything.

he peeks out of the door, scanning the hallway before slipping out like nothing ever happened. the door shuts softly behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts, heart racing.

for a moment, you just stand there, replaying the whole thing in your mind, a smile tugging at your lips as you adjust your clothes one last time. something has definitely shifted between you, but whatever it is . . . you can't help but feel warm all over.

maybe this is just the beginning.

──

the weekend finally rolls around, and as you head to haechan's dorm, excitement bubbles in your stomach. to your surprise, haechan is already there, leaning casually against the doorframe with that signature grin.

“hope you don't mind, but the boys are here too for a movie night,” he says, hands tucked behind his back like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't.

“that's alright,” you reply, curiosity piqued about who else is here.

haechan opens the door wider and ushers you inside. as you step into the living room, you scan the space, your eyes landing on a familiar face—jaemin, with his bright smile, and sitting next to someone you don't recognize.

“oh, hey, y/n! didn't know you'd be joining us! come sit!” jaemin gestures for you to take a seat beside him.

“y/n! come join us!” johnny chimes in from the other side of the room.

as you move to sit down, you notice haechan's expression shift when jaemin lights up at your arrival. a hint of annoyance crosses haechan's face before he seems to shake it off. jaemin doesn't know about you and haechan yet; he didn't get the chance to tell him.

you take the spot next to jaemin. haechan quickly slips between your legs, settling in a crisscross position. it's sweet, but you can't help but feel a bit self conscious with everyone watching. you adjust your sitting position, inadvertently brushing shoulders with jaemin.

this is your second time at their dorm; most of your tutoring sessions with haechan take place in the library. you've tried to avoid his place, not wanting to remember the hurtful remark he made about you to his friends—the "typical cheerleader playbook."

now, sitting here surrounded by his friends, you feel a wave of insecurity wash over you. do they really think you're like that? the thought gnaws at you, filling your mind with a barrage of what-ifs. what if they know about your secret hookups with haechan? you feel small and out of place, the weight of their potential judgments pressing down on you.

what if they believe you're just using him? the notion makes your stomach churn. if that's the case, then what does haechan really want? everything seemed perfect between you two, but now that one question lingers at the back of your mind—what do you want? and what does he want?

you're on the verge of spiraling when jaemin's voice pulls you back to reality.

“y/n?”

“wha—yeah?” you blink, a little dazed.

“everything okay? you looked kinda lost there.”

“yeah, everything's fine. were you saying something?”

“i offered you a blanket. wanna share?”

you feel haechan shift uncomfortably under you, but you manage a small nod.

“sure, thanks,” you say, your voice softer than usual. maybe it's the proximity of jaemin's face or the guilt gnawing at you because haechan's by your feet, and you can't seem to give him the same attention. it's like you're trying too hard to hide your secret hookups with haechan, but in doing so, you're overcompensating with jaemin.

jaemin smiles at you—that cute smile that makes his eyes sparkle—and it makes your stomach twist. it's the same smile that makes you feel sick with guilt. he reaches for the bowl of popcorn beside him and offers it to you. “popcorn?”

before you can answer, haechan cuts in, his voice sharp.

“she won't be eating that—here, this is gonna melt if you don't eat it.” he hands you a tub of ice cream, the one he promised you days ago. you look at him, feeling the corners of your mouth tug up into a soft smile. you're not sure if it's because of the ice cream or the way haechan's trying to remind you of your connection.

“it's fine. i'll have some later,” you say to jaemin, feeling a bit guilty. you don't want to reject his offer entirely, so you add, “would you like to share?”

haechan deflate under you, his eyes narrowing as he rolls them and mutters something under his breath, clearly annoyed. he even mimics what you said, quietly mocking your words. it stings him to see you so quickly offer to share something with jaemin, especially after he went out of his way to bring you ice cream. the thought festers in his mind—you'll share with jaemin but not me? seriously?

you're too focused on keeping up appearances to address haechan's annoyance directly, though. sitting next to jaemin, with haechan's head resting near your legs, it feels like you're trapped in some weird balancing act. you hope that sitting next to jaemin is a good enough excuse for why you can't let haechan coddle you too much. you can't think straight with him so close.

less than half an hour into the movie, jaemin's getting a bit too close for comfort. his shoulder brushes against yours every time he moves, and his knee presses into yours thanks to the cramped space on the couch. it's all subtle, but enough to make you notice, especially with haechan's eyes flicking your way every few minutes, pretending not to notice—but you know he does.

suddenly, haechan speaks up. “do you guys want a refill?” he points at the two empty bowls of popcorn sitting on the table in front of you.

johnny jumps in, “yeah, and grab some sodas while you're up.”

haechan stands up, and his eyes land on you, holding your gaze for a moment longer than he probably should. “come help me,” he says, though the tone of his voice suggests it's more of an expectation than a suggestion.

you hesitate for a second, then nod. he's clearly looking for an excuse to get you alone, away from jaemin's attention, and you can't blame him. you follow him out of the living room and into the kitchen, feeling the slight weight of the tension between you both. it's quiet at first, the only sound being haechan grabbing a fresh bag of popcorn and loading it into the microwave.

leaning against the counter, you watch him as he fiddles with the microwave, neither of you speaking.

finally, he breaks the silence. “what was all that about?”

you blink, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

he doesn't look at you, just keeps staring at the microwave. “you and jaemin,”

you feel a flicker of defensiveness but try to keep your voice calm. “we're sitting on a couch, hyuck. it's cramped. i wasn't doing anything.”

he finally turns to face you, eyes searching yours. there's something in his expression that's hard to read—irritation, maybe?

“it didn't feel like nothing,” he says quietly.

you feel a sudden rush of anger rising in your chest. what the hell is he mad about? you think to yourself, frustration bubbling up.

“first of all, there's no 'me and jaemin,' if that's what you think.” your voice is sharper than you intend, but you can't help it. “it's just a casual hangout, right? and second—why are you being such a dick to me right now?”

haechan scoffs, running a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “me? that's on you, y/n.” he pauses, eyes flicking to yours. "i thought we—”

“what, haechan? what did you think?” you snap back, rubbing your temples as a headache starts to creep in. you're tired. between school assignments piling up, nonstop practice, and the sheer weight of everything going on in your life, this confrontation is the last thing you need right now. you're starting to regret even coming here if it's all going to end in a fight over something that doesn't even make sense.

haechan exhales, his voice rising with frustration. “goddammit, y/n, i fucking like you, okay? why do you think i invited you over tonight?”

his words slam into you, and suddenly, everything goes quiet inside your head. you freeze, your heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at him, wide eyed. no, you think to yourself, your pulse speeding up. not again.

“i wanted to confess, but here you are all over star boy.” his voice is bitter, cutting through the air. you don't know what hurts more—him assuming the worst or the fact that he's saying it like it's all your fault.

“you told me it was to celebrate—”

“i like you, y/n,” haechan repeats, his voice softer this time, stepping toward you. “and i assumed you liked me too . . . right?”

he reaches out to grab your hands, but instinctively, you take a step back. your mind is racing.

“you're sure about that?” your voice wavers, but you force the words out anyway.

“you're sure you want to be with someone who's just 'using you to get into other people's pants'?”you quote his words, throwing them back at him, your heart shattering as the memory of his careless comment floods back.

fear spreads through you, twisting up in your gut. “are you sure you want to be with the 'typical cheerleader' you warned your friends about?”

haechan's face falls, his eyes widening as the weight of his words sinks in. the realisation hits him—you heard everything he'd said about you. “no, no-baby, i didn't mean—” he steps closer again, but you pull away further, your voice breaking now.

“do you still want to be with me?” you ask, choking on the words as tears blur your vision. “when you think i'm just using you to get closer to your friends? that i'm going to break your heart?”

you can't hold it together anymore, and before you know it, you're sobbing, the pain and confusion tearing you apart.

his expression softens immediately, the frustration melting away, replaced with guilt and panic. “baby, look at me” he pleads, his voice gentle now, desperate.

he reaches out, trying to pull you closer, but you step back again, your heart too shattered to let him in. “y/n, princess, i didn't mean any of that, i swear.”

he moves closer, his hands trembling as he gently takes your face between them, forcing you to meet his gaze. “i don't care about what i said before. i was an idiot. i don't care about what anyone else thinks. i want you. just you.”

but it feels like the damage is done. you pull away, stepping back from him, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to hold together the pieces that are already starting to crumble.

“then why would you say that about me?” you whisper, voice broken. “why would you ever make me feel like i'm just another girl to you?”

haechan's face crumples, and he looks at you like he's seeing the full impact of his words for the first time. “i don't know,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear. “i was stupid. jealous. i thought . . . i don't know what i thought. but i didn't mean any of it.”

you wipe at your eyes, trying to catch your breath, but it feels impossible. everything hurts, and you can't stop the sobs from breaking through. you want to believe him, you really do, but the sting of his words is still fresh. too fresh.

“give me some time to think—”

“i messed up so badly. i don't even know where to start. i hurt you, and i can't take that back, no matter how much i want to. you didn't deserve any of it-none of the things i said, none of the ways i treated you. i was too caught up in my own bullshit to see you for who you really are. i had this twisted idea of you in my head, and i let that poison everything between us. and now i've ruined it. i'm sorry . . . i'm so fucking sorry. i don't expect you to forgive me, but i can't stand the thought of you walking away thinking that i didn't care, or that you were just another game to me. you were never that. you were never that to me.”

this time, you didn't pull away as he gently wiped the tears streaming down your face. the warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with the pain still gnawing at your heart. “i wouldn't blame you if you think i'm a bad person . . .”

“no, y/n, you're not a bad person. not even close. you're—”he paused, searching for the right words, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours. “you're the sweetest angel i know. you have this way of making everyone around you feel special. i've always admired that about you.”

“haechan . . .”

“and you're funny too,” he added, curving into a smile. “a little careless sometimes, but that’s not the point.”

he took a deep breath, his expression softening. “you make it so easy to fall for you. you’re smart—okay, maybe i’m smarter, but—”

“haechan,” you interrupted, unable to suppress a laugh as you lightly hit his arm. the playful exchange began to ease the tension.

“what? just speaking the truth,” he replied. then he looked at you, his expression a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“do you . . . like me too?” he asked, fidgeting slightly, as if the question itself was a fragile thing.

in that moment, you felt as if you were drowning in a tidal wave of emotions. the weight of your feelings threatened to pull you under. it annoyed you how easily you wore your heart on your sleeve.

“i do,” you admitted, your voice trembling a little. “i really like you, lee haechan.”

his smile was bright and genuine for a heartbeat, but it faltered just as quickly.

“but like i said, i need some time to think.”

he took a deep breath, his expression softening again as he continued, “take as much time as you need. i’ll always be here waiting for you. i will wait for you, poms.” his gaze drifted to your lips, lingering for a moment, but he held himself back.

“see you around, hyuck,” you said, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside.

“yeah, see you. take care,” he replied as you turned to leave.

with one last look, you slipped out of the dorm, careful not to draw attention from the other boys. the moment you stepped outside, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the rain pouring from the dark sky.

you walked and walked until you couldn’t muffle your cries anymore, and all that escaped was a sob.

it felt like goodbye.

──

days blurred into weeks, daylight faded into dark skies, but it felt like forever since you last spoke with him. the silence between you wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. you figured this was the best way to give yourself some space to think.

of course, you’d seen him around. glances shared in passing, a fleeting brush of eye contact. you could feel him holding back, giving you the distance you needed, though his presence always seemed just within reach. like some strange law of the universe, it felt like the more you tried to avoid someone, the more they showed up in your life.

there he was, at every corner, and in every room.

now, sitting alone outside the convenience store, the neon lights flickering above you, you stared blankly into your cup of ramen. the steam curled into the cool night air, disappearing as quickly as it rose. it was a small ritual, something you’d found comfort in lately—a temporary escape.

the noodles had gone soft, but you didn’t care. it wasn’t really about the food, anyway.

the soft ding of a bell pulled you out of your thoughts, signaling someone had just stepped out of the convenience store. you didn’t bother to look up, figuring it was just another passerby.

“y/n? hey there!”

the voice startled you, and when you looked up, there he was—jaemin, flashing his usual bright smile as he spotted you.

he looked genuinely happy to see you, and for a moment, you almost forgot about everything weighing you down. “oh, hey,” you mumbled, trying to muster a smile in return, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

jaemin took a few steps closer, eyeing your sad cup of ramen before sitting down beside you without hesitation. “thought i'd run into you eventually.”

jaemin had that way about him—light and easy, like he could chase away the heaviness with just a few words. but even that didn’t take away the sinking feeling in your chest. not tonight.

even his usual playfulness dimming a bit when he noticed the distant look on your face. “you good?”

“yeah,” you muttered, swirling the noodles around with your chopsticks. you didn't know what else to say.

he raised an eyebrow, letting out a breathy laugh, the kind that signaled he wasn’t buying it. “you know, this feels way too familiar,”

the boy glanced at you from under his lashes, stirring his ramen like it was no big deal, but you could hear the teasing in his voice. “it's like deja vu. i swear i asked you the same thing the other day, and you gave me the exact same answer.”

you paused for a second, realizing he was right. you’d been dodging the same question every time. you had brushed it off then, just like now, pretending nothing was wrong when everything felt wrong. busted.

a quiet laugh escaped your lips, the kind that comes from recognizing something too familiar. “yeah, i remember.”

jaemin nudged your arm lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “haechan told me everything,” he said, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity. “how’d it go?”

the moment his name left jaemin’s mouth, a sharp ache twisted in your chest. it didn’t take long for the pain to spread, and suddenly, it felt like the walls were closing in. your heart raced, breath hitching as you fought to keep your composure. but it was no use; you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus. everything crashed down all over again.

jaemin's smile faded when he saw you breaking right in front of him. his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. “hey, hey,” he said softly, trying to offer comfort. but that only made it worse. the warmth of his arm, the concern in his voice—it broke the dam.

tears fell faster, and before you could stop them, you were crying into his side.

“this is embarrassing,” you muttered, laughing weakly between sobs as you wiped at your face. “i’m sorry, jaemin. i’m all over the place right now.”

“hey, no, don’t apologize,” he gently said, rubbing your arm in small circles. “it's okay. i’m all ears. whenever you're ready, i’m here.”

jaemin stayed quiet as you took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts, wiping the last of your tears with the back of your hand. once you started talking, though, everything just spilled out—things you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back.

“i don’t know what to do,” you confessed, your voice shaky as you avoided jaemin's eyes. “i like him so much it scares me. i’ve never let anyone get this close to me this fast. and i just—” you stopped, your chest tightening as you tried to find the right words. “i can’t stop thinking about how much it’s going to hurt.”

jaemin’s eyes softened, but he stayed quiet, letting you continue.

“because if i let myself be with him . . . i know i won’t ever want to leave. and that’s terrifying. i’ve been here before, and it always ends the same way.”

you sniffled again, voice cracking with emotion. “i’ll end up breaking his heart—before he even gets the chance to break mine. not because i don’t care, but because i’m scared. scared i’ll ruin everything just because i can’t deal with my own fears.”

you felt your throat close up, and the weight of those words sat heavy in the air between you and jaemin. you hadn’t meant to spill so much, to admit to things you barely let yourself think about. but here you were, the raw fear and confusion hanging on your every word.

“i’m scared,” you whispered, finally looking up at jaemin. “i’m scared i’ll ruin everything because i don’t know how to just . . . let myself be happy without worrying about it all crashing down.”

jaemin was quiet for a while after you poured your heart out, his eyes never leaving your face. you could see the wheels turning in his head, absorbing everything you had just laid bare, taking it all in. he leaned back a little, letting out a slow breath before finally speaking.

“i get it,” he said softly, his voice careful, measured. “i get why you're scared. it’s natural to want to protect yourself. but . . .” he paused, looking at you as if he was searching for the right words, something that would cut through the fog in your mind.

“haechan’s a good guy, y/n. you know that.” his tone was soft but firm. “he’s one of the few people who would never hurt you intentionally. and i think that’s why you’re scared, isn’t it? because you know how good he is—and how good he could be for you.”

his words hung in the air, the truth of them settling deep in your chest.

“and listen,” he continued, leaning in a little, his gaze intense but gentle, “the fact that you’re scared, that you feel this much—it’s not a reason to run. it’s the reason to stay.”

you blinked, his words striking something raw in you. stay?

“if you didn’t care this much, if you didn’t feel so deeply, then yeah, maybe it’d be easier to walk away. but that’s not the case, is it? you do care. and that’s exactly why you shouldn’t leave.”

you felt your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in. he was right. every feeling you had, every fear, every bit of confusion—it wasn’t a reason to run. it was a sign that you were in too deep, yes, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing.

jaemin’s voice softened, his hand resting on your arm. “look, you’re afraid because this is real. because you’re letting yourself be vulnerable, and that’s terrifying. but haechan . . . he’s worth it, isn’t he?”

you nodded silently, the lump in your throat growing. he was worth it. and maybe that’s what scared you the most.

“i can’t tell you what to do,” jaemin said, his voice gentle now, “but i can tell you this: if you walk away now, you might save yourself some pain in the short term. but you’ll miss out on something real, something that could actually make you happy. and in the end, that’s the kind of regret that sticks with you, you know?”

his words hit hard, the truth of them cutting through the noise in your head. he wasn’t pushing you. he wasn’t telling you what to do. but he was laying it all out there, clear as day. and you realized, in that moment, how right he was.

you nodded again, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “i’m just scared,” you whispered.

jaemin smiled softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “being scared isn’t a bad thing. it just means it matters. but if you care about him as much as you say, then maybe it’s time to stop running from it. maybe it’s time to let yourself have something good for a change.”

he leaned back, giving you space, but his eyes never lost their warmth. “whenever you’re ready,” he said quietly, “he’ll be there. just don’t let fear make the decision for you.”

you swallowed hard, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “you’re right . . . thank you, jaemin.” the words came out quieter than you intended, but they were genuine. then, almost shyly, you asked, “c-can i hug you?”

“bring it in, pom poms,” he said, haechan’s playful nickname for you slipping out as he opened his arms wide. you couldn’t help but laugh, diving into his embrace, letting the warmth of the hug settle over you like a blanket of comfort.

“jaemin?” you asked softly, barely letting go of him.

he hummed in response, waiting.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

he didn’t need to ask why. the understanding was written all over his face, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—a longing, a hope, something unsaid that hung in the air like a fragile thread. but he quickly masked it, forcing a smile that felt more like a shield.

“all good, y/n,” he said, his tone gentle yet heavy with the weight of what was left unspoken. “it lasted short, but i’m happy i got to spend some time with you—even if it was just as a friend.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, sending a ripple of guilt through your heart. it didn’t feel like it could ever be enough to cover the complexity of what jaemin had just quietly endured. your apology felt like a band-aid over a wound that needed more than just a quick fix. you were grateful for his kindness, for his patience, for the way he seemed to understand without needing anything in return. he had always been there, a steady presence, never demanding more than you were able to give.

but it wasn’t enough. it could never be enough.

“go get your man,” he teased, his grin softening the tension in the air.

you let out a real laugh this time, feeling some of the heaviness lift. “thank you, jaemin,” you said again, the words carrying more weight now, more meaning. you gave him one last squeeze, holding on a little longer, trying to convey everything you couldn’t say in words.

with a smile and a final glance back, you walked away, ready to find your way back to haechan.

──

“he's out right now, but he should be back soon.” johnny stood by the door, gesturing for you to come inside. he gave you a reassuring smile. “make yourself at home. i'm heading out anyway—hope you don’t mind being here alone.”

“oh, no, it's fine.” you hesitated, glancing around the familiar space. “but are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

johnny chuckled, grabbing his keys. “poms, you’ve been here before. don’t worry. i’ll catch you later!” he gave a casual wave before shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet dorm.

you sat down on the couch, feeling the weight of the silence. minutes passed, and still no sign of haechan. you started fidgeting, glancing at the door every few seconds, wondering if you should just leave. the longer it stayed quiet, the more your thoughts spiraled. what if he didn’t want to see you anymore? what if he changed his mind?

your stomach twisted as you stood from the couch, deciding maybe it was better to come back tomorrow when it wasn’t so late. you reached for the door handle, ready to leave, when you heard the sound of keys jangling outside. the door creaked open, and—

there he was.

haechan stood in the doorway, looking completely caught off guard. no polished outfit, no sharp looks—just him in an oversized hoodie, glasses, shorts, and sandals, and yet somehow, he looked just as irresistible.

“y/n?” he said, eyes wide.

“haechan?” you stammered, feeling your heart race.

“y/n?!” he blinked, as if still processing the fact that you were standing there.

“that’s me!”

before either of you could say anything else, you threw yourself into his arms. haechan caught you instantly, his arms wrapping around you as if he’d been waiting for this. your lips met in a soft, yet eager kiss. it wasn’t rushed or desperate—just two people who missed each other. his lips molded perfectly with yours, his hand sliding to the back of your head to pull you in closer, while your arms tightened around his neck.

you could feel him smile into the kiss, like he was still processing that you were really here, in his arms. when you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet, warm moment.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, his voice soft, filled with affection. like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

“believe it,” you replied, eyes locked on his, voice steady despite the rush of nerves. “because i’m staying.”

before you could say another word, he attacked you with light, fluttering kisses all over your face—your cheeks, your forehead, down to your neck. you squealed, trying to scold him, but the ticklish sensation overpowered any attempt at seriousness. your laughter spilled into the room, filling the quiet with warmth.

“say it, baby,” haechan murmured, pausing just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze holding an entire universe of emotion, as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.

your heart swelled, and with the butterflies still dancing in your stomach, you whispered, “i want to be with you.”

“i wanna be with you too, poms,” he replied, his voice soft yet sure. his eyes glimmered in the dim light of the room, catching the glow of the streetlights filtering through the window. to him, your face was like the soft glow of the moon—steady, calm, and beautiful in a way that made his heart race.

“does this mean you’ll be mine?”

you giggled, unable to hold back the joy bubbling inside you. “i think i’ve been yours for a while now, nerd.”

the look on his face was pure joy, like he couldn’t believe his luck. his eyes sparkled, wide and excited, as if he’d been waiting for this moment forever. but you barely had a second to take it all in before he leaned in, his lips crashing against yours again.

this kiss felt different—deeper, more intense. it wasn’t just a kiss anymore; it was a need, a rush that made your heart pound and your knees weak. you could feel him pulling you closer, like he wanted to melt into you, and suddenly, words didn’t matter. it was all about the way his lips fit yours perfectly, like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

when you finally pulled back to catch your breath, a flicker of doubt washed over you. that familiar voice of insecurity whispered in your mind, making your chest feel tight.

“you'll lead me, right?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

the fear of the unknown tugged at your heart, but before you could say anything else, haechan’s lips were on yours again.

he didn’t answer with words—just kissed you again, gentle but firm, as if trying to reassure you without saying a thing.

you pulled back slightly, eyes searching his for something more. “what if i mess this up?”

kiss.

what if i don’t know what to do?”

another kiss. this time slower, deeper, like he wanted to kiss away the doubt building inside you.

“what if—”you couldn’t even finish the sentence before his lips were on yours again, cutting off your thoughts, as if telling you that there was nothing to worry about.

“i’ve got you,” he whispered between kisses. “i'll always lead you.”

haechan didn’t let go, not for a second. his lips stayed pressed to yours as he walked you through the house, one hand firmly on your waist, the other reaching out, fumbling for the bedroom door. when he finally found it, he pushed the door open and walked you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. he pulled away just long enough to lay you down gently, his eyes scanning over you, filled with awe.

“my beautiful angel,” he whispered.

your cheeks burned as you started to pull off your clothes, and haechan followed suit, though he kept pausing to watch you. you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips when you caught sight of him—his thick length, standing proud with its pretty pink tip glistening from his arousal.

your thighs instinctively squeezed together at the sight.

“fuck,” he rasped, eyes dark with desire. “i’m never letting you run away again.”

you spread your legs wide open, feeling eager and ready for him. haechan didn't waste a moment; he dove in, pressing a hot kiss to your sensitive clit, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a wet pop.

“you taste so good. i can't wait to have you, beautiful,” he murmured.

his sweet words had you floating, even though your body was practically screaming for him. how did he manage to sound so soft when things were about to get so dirty?

“hyuck . . . please–”

haechan brought his hands to either side of your head, your faces just inches apart. he looked into your eyes, before bringing one hand down to align his cock with your entrance.

“breathe, baby,” he said softly. with that, he slipped the head of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your wetness as he brushed past your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

with a soft sigh, he finally pushed the tip past your folds, looking deeply into your eyes as he paused, waiting for your signal to continue.

your muscles suddenly clenched at the entrance, and your hands shot up to grip his shoulders.

“you okay, baby?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“yeah, just—” you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, then softened your grip.

“why do you feel so . . . big?” you asked, a hint of disbelief in your tone. last time had felt rushed, but this time, you were fully aware of him stretching you, and your pussy was tight.

haechan chuckled softly. “you're taking it so well, little champ.” he held his hips still, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i'm gonna go slow.”

you nodded, letting your hands relax to rest on his chest, feeling his heart race beneath your fingertips. the stretch of his tip had settled inside you, and you could feel the pressure easing around him. you couldn't shake the thought that he was huge—you always knew he was—but you didn't remember it feeling quite like this. and honestly, you loved every bit of it.

painstakingly slowly, haechan shifted his hips, sliding his cock into you. your mouth fell open, first in a silent scream, then letting out a choked moan as your wetness welcomed him deeper.

when he finally bottomed out inside you, the feeling was overwhelming. he pressed soft kisses across your open mouth, each one igniting a spark of warmth that spread through your body. this felt different from before—so much more intimate. you might actually consider this your favorite experience yet.

it was soft, tender, and filled with a sense of love that made your heart race.

“you like my cock inside you, baby? does it feel good?”

“yes— fuck, feel so good inside me. please—please move,” you breathed, the words spilling out in a desperate whisper.

“look at me while i fuck you,” he commanded, his gaze locked onto yours. he slowly pulled himself nearly all the way out, then slid back in, a steady rhythm building between you.

each thrust had you feeling more and more overwhelmed, your body responding instinctively to him. you could feel the sweat beading on your brow, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, and the way your shallow breaths began to crescendo into soft whimpers.

your heat was unbelievably tight around him, drawing him closer to the edge faster than he wanted. haechan's eyes darkened with desire as he lifted his right index finger, bringing it to your clit and rubbing slow, careful circles around it. the sudden sensation forced your back into a strained arch, your toes curling in response. the heat radiated between you, and you pressed your chest flush against his, feeling the hard peaks of your nipples stimulate against his skin, heightening every sensation.

“just like that, baby,” he murmured. “you're so tight. you gonna come?”

tears brimmed in your eyes as an orgasm more intense than any you'd ever felt threatened to spill over the edge. you felt that familiar tightening in your core, building pressure that was almost overwhelming.

“f–fuck, i'm gonna cum— ngh!” you moaned, your voice trembling.

“you know what to do. cum,” he urged, his tone both commanding and sweet.

a stinging sound rang in your ears as the fireworks in your stomach finally went off. your hands gripped the bedsheets, and your head fell back, letting out moans that matched haechan's rhythm as he thrust in and out of you. the pressure kept building, but his finger on your clit stopped moving, making you grind against him even though the sensitivity was almost too much to handle.

“come inside me, hyuck . . . 'm on birth control,” you panted, your breath coming in short gasps.

as soon as you gave your permission, he came hard and fast inside you. his thick cock pulsed, filling you with warmth, and his hips stuttered through the end of his climax. you could feel every twitch, every spurt of him deep inside, and it sent another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

once he was finally empty, he collapsed on top of you, your chests pressed together, slick with sweat. “you're fucking perfect, so, so good for me.”

you hummed softly in response, nuzzling your nose against haechan's neck, making him giggle. was this really the same guy who had just made you cum so hard?

he suddenly pulled away, excusing himself to check his phone on the nightstand. his expression went blank as he stared at the screen.

“hyuck? everything okay?” you asked, a hint of worry creeping into your voice.

then, without warning, he erupted into laughter, his whole body shaking. he pointed his phone at you, and you leaned in to read the text.

it was from johnny, asking him to let him know when you two were done fucking because he had left his wallet in the room. you stared at haechan, bewildered for a moment, before you joined in on the laughter, both of you collapsing onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

after the laughter died down, you sighed, the comfortable silence between you settling in. but not without a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up. you exchanged quiet smiles as you wiped each other off and returned to the bed, curling into one another under the covers. his warmth was familiar, comforting, and it felt like home.

haechan pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and letting out a soft, content sigh.

“hi, girlfriend,” he said, like he was testing out the word for the first time.

you tilted your head up, meeting his eyes as a small smile played on your lips. “hi, boyfriend.”

for a moment, the room was still, just the sound of your breathing filling the space. then haechan spoke again, his voice even softer now, as if he were speaking a truth he'd always known but never said aloud. “i guess we found each other.”

you felt your chest tighten in the best way, the warmth of his words wrapping around your heart. “we fit each other,” you whispered back, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.

“like a nerd and a . . . well, maybe not the smartest girl,” you teased.

he chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “nah, baby, you're smart where it counts. i'm the brains, and you're the— uh . . . everything else,” he said with a grin, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

“whatever you say,” you laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

with him, everything just fit.

masterlist.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct hard hours #donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #lee haechan smut #nct dream #nct 127 #nct #haechan

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fullsunstrawberry · 2 days

Text

Falling for the Enemy- PREVIEW

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, having sex while someone is watching, and more (will be stated in the actual fic)

Word Count: estimated 18-20k

Preview Word Count: 2.8k (even the teaser is long wtf)

Release Date: October 5th (Saturday)

Taglist: comment or send an ask :)

A/N: This was requested by one of my lovely anons!! 💚anon I hope you enjoy it. I did stray a little bit off the request because what haechan and yn isn't technically yn cheating but it's still spicy lol.

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you missed your friend that was long gone.

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends who hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would over think and feel bad.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Haechan.” The barista called out.

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.

But for now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior, for better or worse, would have to wait.

#falling for the enemy #haechan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan angst #haechan fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream haechan #haechan nct #nct haechan #haechan x you #haechan x y/n

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jji-lee · 9 hours

Text

pt.1

nerd!jeno didn't think anything could be better than fucking you. well he was wrong. now he thinks nothing could be better than the taste of your sopping cunt.

he was hesitant at first, he'd never done something like this before. but as his face neared your core, skin warm as he wrapped his arms under your thighs, he thought he had seen heaven.

your breath was heavy as you stared down at him, your lip between your teeth as he gently stuck his tongue past your folds, getting a feel for your taste. he let out a moan as the first drops of you landed on his tongue, the sweetest candy he's ever tasted. the vibration made you sink back into the pillows, fingers gripping onto the sheets. jeno sunk into your core, nose gently prodding at your clit as he lapped at your wet hole, desperate for your juices.

"oh my- jen baby, fuck, feels good, right there."

your hands abandoned the sheets moving to grip at the strands of jeno's hair. he hummed into your core, not listening to a word you were saying. it was just him and your pussy, nothing else mattered. he moved his mouth up to latch onto your clit suckling gently as he brought his fingers towards your entrance, sliding two in gently. you moaned at the feeling thighs coming together to close around his face. he backed away from your core, removing his fingers from inside you to push your thighs apart.

"don't move, you're gonna break my glasses."

he straightened his glasses on his face before diving right back in, tongue lapping at your clit and his fingers deep inside of you. you swallowed down a moan hands quickly coming down to hold your knees apart. one thing jeno didn't play about was his glasses. you watched as he continued his ministrations on your core, glasses fogged up and pushe uncomfortably against his nose as he pressed his mouth deeper into you. he let out a groan,

"i can't, i can't fucking see you with these on."

he took his glasses off, throwing them somewhere on the floor and he focused back on your cunt.

"hm, still looks so pretty even when it's blurry."

you giggled at his comment calling him an idiot before gently shoving him back down onto your core. he happily complied lips latching onto your clit, his tongue swirling around the bud. his fingers slowly slid into you, this time remaining knuckle deep. he dragged the pads of his fingers along your walls, looking for that one spot. you let out a loud moan as he finally found it, a grin on his face at your reaction.

he stuck to that spot fingers prodding and rubbing at it as he focused his tongue back onto your clit, pressing on it gently. your back arched off the bed, legs coming together to close around his head as you felt your orgasm wash over you, strings of jeno's name leaving your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut. you pushed his head back as he kept sucking on your clit, overstimulation taking over your body.

"jen, jen, that's enough baby, too much."

he moved back to look up at you, cheeks flushed, his lips and nose wet with your juices. his eyes slightly squinted as he tried to focus on you, vision blurred by his lack of glasses.

"if you think about it this is a real safety hazard. tasted so good i almost forgot to breathe."

you giggled as he got up to hover over you, face now inches away from your,

"finally i can see you, my pretty girl."

note to self : nerdy guys are the best in bed.

#nct dream #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct drabbles #jeno #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno smut #jeno imagines #nerd jeno #🐶

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saythenametotheworld · 2 days

Text

Backburner | k.mg (18+)

There is a rule of thumb for casual relationships: do not fall in love with the other. Yet with Mingyu, it felt easier to watch the world burn than to stop yourself from falling for him.

Prologue

Genre: friends with benefits, smut Pairing: Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader Warnings: angst, explicit content (18+) Notes: 21k words. Part 2 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Backburner by NIKI. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Backburner by NIKI, Say Don't Go by Taylor Swift, Another You (Another Way) by Against the Current Taglist: @scoupsjin @iarayara @gaslysainz @silvermist002 @ssmebody @katfaceu

It was midnight, and what was usually a quiet evening was shattered by the persistent ringing of your phone—tucked inside the drawer of your nightstand. You shifted from your comfortable position on the bed, laying on your back to stare at the ceiling, your ringtone still playing and making the nightstand buzz faintly.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, groaning as you moved to grab your phone. The backlight made your eyes sting. Squinting at the words on the screen, you recognized the unique caller ID: ‘R18+++’

One week of nothing and here he comes, calling you in the middle of the night. The audacity.

You shouldn't pick up. You were mad at him after all. But what if he had something important to say? Even if he didn't, would it really hurt if you pick up?

Not you trying to justify the desire to talk to him.

“Hello?” you answered, against your better judgment (or not).

“Hi…” said Mingyu from the other line, his voice more dragged out than usual. Deeper. Lonelier. “Did I wake you?”

He did. “No. Not at all.”

He hummed on the other side. “Can't sleep? What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing important,” you sighed, sinking deeper into your soft pillow. “What’s up with you?”

“Me? I was just working on this paper,” he replied. You could hear him groaning as if he was stretching his limbs. “This course is kicking my ass.”

“Professor Jung?” you asked, remembering how he often complained about the same professor.

“Yeah. He’s the worst,” he chuckled but there was no humor in it. “I’ve been staring at this screen all night, trying to make sense of it. You know when you read the same line over and over, and it still doesn’t click?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, shifting on your bed. “Sounds like every assignment I’ve ever done.”

He let out another laugh, soft and hollow. “Right? This one’s on some theoretical nonsense. I keep typing, hoping something’s gonna make sense eventually, but it’s like... whatever. I’ll probably just wing it.”

You could hear the faint tapping of keys on his end as if he was still half-distracted by the work in front of him. But something felt off, and somehow, you knew exactly what it was. He didn’t really want to talk about the homework, he was just stalling. The words were just filler—something to pass the time, to keep the conversation going.

“Maybe I’ll just email the professor and tell him the universe swallowed my homework. Think he’d buy that?” Mingyu joked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Probably not,” you replied with a soft smile of your own, but your mind was elsewhere now, sensing the unspoken heaviness behind his casual complaints.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he chuckled followed by a soft groan and the sound of him falling back on his bed.

Another pause settled between you, and this time you didn’t wait for him to fill it with more empty chatter. “Wanna come over?” you asked instead, and he was quiet for a moment.

“Well… yeah, I’d love to. I mean…” he paused and then chuckled. “If it’s alright.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, it’s alright. You'd always taken it in stride when he ghosted you and returned like nothing happened. Sometimes you wonder if he was genuinely oblivious or pretending not to know. “Sure. You know where I’ll be.”

After hanging up, you let the phone slip from your hand, staring at the ceiling. You weren’t supposed to do this. Mingyu was someone you should’ve been keeping at arm’s length, a complication you couldn’t afford. The smart thing would’ve been to ignore his call. But you didn’t. No matter how much you tried to keep your distance, you would always find yourself waltzing back towards him.

You thought about how easy it would be to send a quick message, tell him not to come, maybe even block his number if you really wanted to make a clean break. You should. A single text, a few words, and it would all be over. Your fingers hovered over the screen, but you didn’t type anything.

Then the knock came, gentle but firm, and you abandoned all protests, tossing them aside as easily as you tossed your phone back into the drawer. You didn’t hesitate as you crossed the room, your hand already reaching for the doorknob.

When you opened the door, there he was—tall, tousled hair, a lopsided smile, as if he wasn’t entirely sure you’d actually let him in.

“Hey,” Mingyu said softly, standing in the doorway like he’d been there dozens of times before—he had.

“Hi,” you replied, your heartbeat picking up pace, louder now that he was here, standing in front of you.

Without another word, he stepped inside, scooping you up by the waist like it was a habit, crashing his lips into yours. For a split second, your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, but your body betrayed you.

You kissed him back, letting yourself sink into the feeling. His hands moved to your back, pulling you even closer, and any remaining hesitation crumbled as the tension between you both sparked to life.

He was completely unaware, lost in the moment, and you let him be—because pretending felt easier than confronting the truth. It felt easier to let him kiss you like this, to let him believe everything between you was simple—as if you weren’t standing on the edge of something much heavier.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a grin. “Is Mina here?” His voice was teasing and light.

“You wouldn’t be here if she is,” you replied, breathless, your words barely forming as you watched him tug his sweater off, the urgency in his movements sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

For a moment, you stood there, watching as his sweater hit the floor, your heart racing against your better judgment. Here you go, again. You could stop it right here—send him home, tell him you don’t want to see him again even if that was a lie. Again, you didn’t. You reached for him, pulling him back toward you, his lips meeting yours with a kind of hunger that made you forget everything else.

The door clicked shut behind him, and with it, any resolve you thought you had.

“Wait, hold up. Let me just—” You made a rolling gesture with your fingers, trying to gather your thoughts. “—roll it back a bit. I think I went straight to the intense part.”

Seungcheol’s calm demeanor didn’t budge. He leaned back. “Didn’t feel intense to me.”

“Yeah, well…” You shifted in your seat. “I should’ve started by telling you how we met, right? Or how we even ended up in… this kind of arrangement.”

He nodded. “Context would help.”

You paused, sipping your water. “Okay, so… I first met Mingyu in freshman year. Second semester, to be exact. We had one class together—gen-ed history. I was late the first day.” You smirked, remembering how rushed you’d been, shoes squeaking against the floor as you slipped into the back row, heart pounding from running across campus.

The only available seat was next to Mingyu. You didn't notice him at first because the room's quietness was the first to catch your attention.

You tugged his sleeve. “Hey, sorry to bother you.” You told him your name. “I just came in. Did I miss anything important? I feel like I did.”

He glanced at you, brows slightly raised. He looked half amused, half confused. “I'm Kim Mingyu. And… yeah, you missed a bit. Professor gave us five minutes to pray for the diagnostic test.”

“Pray?” you’d repeated, your disbelief clear, eyes wide as you stifled a laugh. “How hard could a gen-ed diagnostic exam be?”

Very hard.

You cringed at the memory of that test and how you didn’t know the answers for most of it. Mingyu was grinning beside you, walking in easy strides. “Still think you didn’t need those five minutes to pray?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no bite to it. “Alright, fine. I’m humbled. But you don’t have to be so smug about it.”

He chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’m just teasing. Anyway, don’t worry about it. The test won’t affect your grades or anything.”

Before you could respond, another classmate who overheard had stopped to join your conversation. “Actually, it does count. It goes straight into your record.”

Mingyu snorted, clearly doubting it. “No way. It’s just a pre-assessment.”

“The professor said so herself. You probably didn’t hear because you left too soon.” She looked at you with a sympathetic smile. “But hey, I bombed it too, so… you’re not alone.”

You felt a strange sense of closeness with her, but mostly, you were trying to process what that meant for your grades. “Great,” you muttered, but you weren’t sure if you were saying it sarcastically or just in defeat.

“I'm Mina,” she said, offering her hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you,” you chimed, shaking her hand and telling her your name.

“I know. See you around!”

When Mina walked away, you expected Mingyu to say something mocking, but instead, he just laughed lightly. “Guess I should’ve prayed too.”

Over the next few weeks, Mingyu became someone you interacted with mostly during class. You’d sit near each other by default—mainly because the two of you are often the last ones to arrive, you being late most of the time. You exchanged quiet jokes when the professor wasn’t looking and sometimes teamed up when group discussions were required. But outside that lecture hall, you led entirely separate lives.

In the hallways, you'd pass by each other every now and then. He’d nod or smile—never stopping, never lingering. Just a brief acknowledgment as you walked in opposite directions. Sometimes, you’d give him a quick wave, or he’d send you a lazy salute with his fingers.

During class breaks, when the professor let everyone stretch their legs for a few minutes, you’d talk. Mingyu liked to complain about how boring the lectures were, though his grumbling always seemed exaggerated, more for humor than actual frustration.

“Think I might pass out,” he’d groan, letting his head drop to the desk dramatically. “I don’t know how anyone stays awake for this.”

“You’d stay awake if you actually took notes,” you’d tease back, scribbling in your notebook as you spoke.

“Ah, but see, that’s what friends are for,” he’d reply, flashing you a playful grin. “You can lend me yours later.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” you’d retort, shaking your head with a smile.

But that was it. When class ended, he went his way, and you went yours. He wasn’t someone who crossed your mind outside of that classroom, and you suspected it was the same for him. Mingyu wasn’t a constant presence in your life, just a classmate who made lectures slightly more tolerable.

There was a comfort in that distance. He was easy to talk to, someone you didn’t have to think too hard about. No expectations, no complications. Just small moments of shared boredom, passed with lazy smiles and half-hearted complaints.

For a while, that was all he was—someone who filled the pauses between lectures. That is until the night of your first off-campus party for the semester.

The music pulsed around you, louder than it needed to be, vibrating through the floor and into your chest. You were seated at the edge of the crowded party, a half-empty cup of something strong in your hand, watching as your ex-boyfriend paraded his new girlfriend around like she was a shiny new toy. Every touch between them felt like a jab. You couldn’t care less about him, not really. But watching him be all giggly and touchy with her after he’d cheated on you with her, no less—yeah, that was annoying.

You took another sip from your drink, trying to keep your irritation in check. It didn’t help that they were standing close enough that you could hear snippets of their conversation—his low, stupid laugh and her breathy giggles.

“Someone’s pissed.”

The voice came from beside you, startling you out of your thoughts. You turned, finding Mingyu standing there with a half-smile, hands tucked in his hoodie pockets as he glanced over at your ex and his new girlfriend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, though your sarcasm was clear.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, amused. “Come on. I’ve seen you shoot daggers at them from across the room.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and staring into your cup. “I’m not pissed. Just... annoyed.”

His eyes flicked over to the couple again, then back to you. “I get it. Ex-boyfriend?”

You hesitated but nodded. “Yeah. Not that it matters. We broke up ages ago.” You bit your lip before adding, “But he cheated on me with her. So, you know... watching them be all gross together isn’t exactly fun.”

Mingyu winced in sympathy. “That’s rough. Sounds like he’s not worth the headspace, though.”

“He’s not,” you said quickly, and you meant it. “But it’s still annoying.”

He snorted. “I don’t blame you. If it makes you feel any better, they look like a bad reality show couple.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, they kinda do.”

Mingyu shrugged, leaning a little closer, his voice dropping. “If it’s bugging you that much, want me to help you take your mind off it? We can head somewhere else, or... just stay here and make fun of them quietly. Your call.”

You hesitated, glancing at your ex one more time, then back at Mingyu. The idea of staying here, stewing in the background while they flaunted their new relationship, made your stomach turn. Maybe leaving was the better option.

“Actually,” you said, standing up and finishing the last of your drink, “let’s get out of here. This party’s boring anyway.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised but pleased. “Alright. Lead the way.”

The two of you slipped out of the crowded party and into the cooler, quieter night. The noise faded behind you as you stepped outside, the crisp air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the party. You hadn’t really thought about where you were going, just that you needed to leave.

“Any place in mind?” Mingyu asked, falling into step beside you, hands still casually tucked into his pockets.

You scoffed. “I don’t know. This was your idea.”

He shrugged, glancing at the sky briefly before turning back to you. “We could walk a bit. Sober up.”

“I barely drank.”

Mingyu nodded. “Okay, fair. If you want, I’ve got some soju and beer at my place. Not much, but it’s better than whatever was in that cup you were drinking.”

You glanced at him. There was no pressure in his tone, no hidden motive—just a suggestion. Still, something about the idea of going to his place made your heart beat a little faster.

“Exactly how many ulterior motives do you have right now?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him in mock suspicion.

A grin spread across his face. “For now, zero,” he replied, showing a zero with his fingers.

“For now?” You rolled your eyes. “Better keep it at zero.”

Mingyu winced with a mock-hurt expression. “Do I have to make promises too? Man, this is a lot of work.”

“Kim Mingyu!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, raising his hands. “Come on. It’s this way.”

The walk to Mingyu’s apartment wasn’t long, but the conversation between you was comfortable. He was funny, as always. By the time you reached his door, your cheeks were red and slightly hurting with how much you were laughing.

His place was a studio, small and cozy with a few mismatched pieces of furniture. It was tidy, except for the couch, which was covered in a pile of unfolded laundry.

“Oh, crap,” he muttered, laughing awkwardly. “I forgot about that. Let me just—”

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind at all,” you said, waving your hand dismissively.

“Nah, there’s nowhere else to sit,” he insisted, kicking off his shoes and quickly tidying the couch.

While he put his clothes into a basket, you took a moment to look around. The tidiness of his home was unexpected. You rarely judge people’s living spaces but it was surprising for a man to be this clean. Then again, that was just the stereotype speaking.

Mingyu grabbed two beers from the fridge, tossing you one as you settled onto the now-cleared couch.

You raised an eyebrow, inspecting the can. “You promised me soju.”

He chuckled, opening his own drink. “Well, you told me to keep my motives in check, so soju is out of the table.”

“You’re no fun.”

As you sipped your drinks, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about class, made fun of the test you’d failed, and joked about the people at the party. But somewhere between the laughter and the quiet moments, the atmosphere began to shift. The space between you felt a little smaller, the eye contact a little longer. It wasn’t forced, just... there.

At some point, Mingyu’s arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. You didn’t move away. Instead, you leaned into him slightly, the warmth of his presence comforting.

“I think you should go,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Wow, okay. There’s no need to shoo me away. I’ll go,” you scoffed, offended. You stood up instantly, reaching for your jacket but he grabbed your wrist.

“No, I don’t mean—” he paused, sighing as he looked at your annoyed expression. “I’m sorry. Come sit. Don’t go.”

You didn’t answer, instead, swatted his hand away and put on your jacket. Mingyu stood up, taking your hand and squeezing it.

“Please,” he sighed, holding your gaze.

You were exasperated. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting so confusing all of a sudden?”

There was a glint of hesitation on his face. “Can I be honest?”

You retracted your hand and crossed your arms over your chest. Then you raised an eyebrow, urging him to speak.

Mingyu leaned back slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I have at least six ulterior motives.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Six? What are they?”

“Are you sure you want to find out?” he asked back, but it didn’t seem like a question to know how curious you were. Somehow, it sounded as if he was asking for permission.

You held his gaze, feeling the warmth radiating from him, the air around you charged with an intensity you couldn’t ignore. Time seemed to slow as you considered his question.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steady but low. “Yes.”

Before you could think about what came next, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. There was no hesitation this time, no second thoughts. The tension that had been building all night finally found its release as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

You kissed him back, slowly at first, as if testing the waters, but it didn’t take long before the hesitation melted away. You know where this was going—but whether it was just the alcohol, the moment, or something more that drove you to do this, you didn't know. But for now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way Mingyu’s lips felt against yours, the quiet hum of desire building between you as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

Your fingers drummed rhythmically on the table, eyeing Seungcheol as if trying to gouge out his thoughts. His head was tilted slightly, thinking about your question: ‘What do you think happened next?’

“You became friends with benefits,” he said with certainty.

Your fingers stopped abruptly. “Really? You didn’t think we’d started dating after that?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Did you?”

“No,” you replied sheepishly. “But you seemed so sure that we were gonna be friends with benefits.”

“I had a hunch. It didn’t seem like your connection was building up to a romantic relationship just yet.”

You scowled, confused. “What do you mean? You didn’t think our connection was romantic?”

“Not at all. You were just friends. There was nothing that hinted any romance until the night you went to his flat.”

“Ah, I see what you mean.”

Seungcheol nodded, not smiling but he seemed pleased with himself. “So, what happened next?”

What happened next? You and Mingyu became friends with benefits, that’s what happened. Despite that arrangement, Mingyu was thoughtful in ways that made it hard to draw a clear line between what was casual and what wasn’t.

At university, nothing changed. You were still just classmates—maybe not even that close. You’d smile at each other in passing, maybe sit near each other in a lecture like usual, but that was it. To anyone else, you were barely acquaintances. But behind closed doors, it was different—passionate, fervent, and surreally euphoric.

Soon after that first night, you moved your rendezvous to your place. Your apartment was bigger than Mingyu’s tiny studio, with enough space for both of you to comfortably exist, though most of the time you didn’t bother with space. Whenever he came over, it didn’t take long for his hands to find you or for you to pull him in. There was something magnetic between you, like a spark that kept reigniting no matter how many times you tried to cool it down.

The passion was always there, and you were always eager to touch each other. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even make it to the bed—his lips on yours, your hands tugging at his shirt, and before you knew it, you’d be tangled in each other, the sheets forgotten. Other times, when the heat had subsided, you’d lay there talking, conversations flowing easily about anything and everything.

It was odd, in a way—how effortless it felt when you were alone together. You could laugh, joke, and even sit in silence without any discomfort. Yet, in public, it was like nothing existed between you. Mingyu never brought it up, and neither did you. It was easier that way. You weren’t together, after all—just two people who couldn’t get enough of each other when no one was watching.

Sometimes, the heat was so consuming, that it blurred the lines between passion and affection. And yet, after the fire died down, there was always this: Mingyu, showing up with bread that you loved, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re here already?” you asked, surprised to see Mingyu standing in your living room, browsing your bookshelf like he had all the time in the world.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, flashing a smile as he carefully returned a small ceramic bear to its place.

“How did you get here so fast? You texted me like ten minutes ago,” you said, dropping your bag on the sofa as you walked toward him.

“I was nearby,” he said with a casual shrug, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, the familiar spark flickering between you. When he pulled away, he said, “I picked up some bread on my way here.”

“No way, is it the same ones you brought last time?” You couldn’t hide your excitement as you reached for the bakery bag he’d left on the coffee table.

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Yep, that’s the one.”

You sat in the living room that afternoon, talking over warm cups of chocolate and bread. You barely paid attention to the football game on the TV, giggling and pawing at each other, feeling cozy despite the cold weather outside.

At some point, Mingyu’s hands moved to your shoulders, and you sighed in contentment. “Thanks, I needed this,” you murmured, closing your eyes as his skilled fingers worked through the tension. It was one of Mingyu’s many skills, massages.

He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We should take this inside.”

You opened one eye, pretending not to understand. “Take what inside?”

Mingyu chuckled, his lips curving against your skin. “Well, if you want to do it here, that’s fine too but we should probably turn off the TV. I don’t feel comfortable having my idols watch,” he replied, making you turn to face him.

“Your idols?”

Mingyu shrugged and then nodded towards the TV where the football game was still on. Scoffing, you grabbed a throw pillow and hit him with it. You both laughed about it for a while, but eventually decided to lock yourselves in your bedroom.

Later that night, you stirred, the quiet glow of a laptop screen pulling you from sleep. Blinking, you realized Mingyu was no longer beside you. He was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the bed, fingers tapping rapidly on the keys.

Reaching out, you squeezed his shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

Mingyu paused, turning slightly to kiss your knuckles. “Go back to sleep, baby. I just need to finish this.”

“Can’t it wait till morning?” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.

He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. With a soft shush, he ran his fingers through your hair. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll be done soon. Just sleep.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed your forehead. At that moment, it seemed so normal, so typical of him. But you didn’t realize at the time—it was a sign that Mingyu had trouble sleeping through the night.

Mingyu had a quiet way of making you feel seen. It wasn’t grand gestures or romantic proclamations, but in the little things he did—thoughtful acts that slipped under the radar until you realized just how much attention he paid. One time during class, he came over holding a tiny ceramic bear, almost shy as he handed it to you.

“What’s this?” you asked, turning the figurine over in your hands.

“I noticed that your bear family didn’t have a dad, so,” he said with a small grin, watching as your eyes lit up in recognition.

It was such a simple thing, but the fact that he remembered your collection, that he’d thought of you—it left you feeling touched.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmured, smiling. “But thanks.”

“It’s a grizzly, not a polar bear. Is that okay?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect,” you giggled. “He’ll have to take up the responsibility of taking care of kids who aren’t his though.”

Mingyu shrugged, though there was a quiet satisfaction in his expression. “He’ll be a good stepdad to them. I can vouch.”

“You barely know the guy,” you laughed, playing along.

It wasn’t just gifts. Mingyu had a habit of taking care of the little things in your life without even asking. Like the time the lightbulb in your bathroom had gone out. You didn’t mention it to him, but the next time he came over, he had a replacement bulb in his bag.

“Didn’t realize you were an electrician now,” you joked as he stood on a chair, screwing in the new bulb.

He laughed. “Just figured you’d forget to buy one.”

“I wasn’t going to forget,” you protested, even though he was right. “But… thanks.”

It was like that often with him—effortless, natural.

“Alright, let’s see,” he said, stepping down from the chair and reaching for the switch to test if it worked. When it did, he let out a satisfied hum. “There you go. Good as new.”

“How much for your labor, good sir?” you quipped, wiping away the tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The grin Mingyu gave you was menacing, shamelessly checking you out in your tank top and shorts. “I’ll have you know I do not accept monetary fees.”

You knew what he meant and he made it especially clear when he casually pressed his palm on your left boob. You just scoffed and swatted his hand away. “I see you work pro bono. Thanks a lot.”

With a teasing grin, you walked away. In the kitchen, he cooked dinner while you sat on the counter, munching on an apple. You found it amusing that the wok he used was something he had brought from his own flat. It's been in your kitchen for a while now. Today, he brought his own kitchen knife.

“You might as well move in at this rate,” you teased after he warned you to be careful with his sharp knife. “What’s next? A drawer for your clothes?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll consider it.”

“You might as well do since you’re here almost every day,” you jeered. “You should bring your own toothbrush too.”

“Ah, that reminds me.” He moved toward you, placing a kiss on your cheek as he rummaged through the paper bag resting on your lap. From there, he fished out two toothbrushes, holding them up like a peace offering. “Look. They came in pairs.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I use an electric toothbrush, you know.”

“Then keep it as a backup,” he shrugged, still grinning. “Or don't. It’s not a big deal.”

You’d joked at first, but eventually, you started using the toothbrush he brought. It felt like a small connection, something that tied him a little more closely to you, even if neither of you talked about it.

And he remembered everything. When you ordered food, he always knew exactly what you wanted without asking. “Chicken katsu with extra sauce,” he’d say, already placing the order. He’d put on music that matched your mood perfectly, like the playlists you loved but never had to mention. Even the book you had been reading—he remembered the title, asked if you’d finished it yet.

Those little moments kept piling up, making it harder to separate the physical nature of your relationship from the real deal. Every time he remembered, every time he took care of something small, you wondered if maybe this wasn’t just friends with benefits after all.

But then there were moments of uncertainty that made you question how much you really knew about him. Sometimes, in quiet moments, he would zone out, lost in thought. You vividly remember one evening when you were curled up together on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background. You had been laughing at the antics on-screen, leaning into him, when you glanced over and found him staring blankly at the flickering light of the television.

When he slept over, you’d sometimes wake up to find him staring at the ceiling. His face was relaxed, but there was a tension in the way his jaw was set, a hint of a furrow in his brow. You reached out to touch his face, hoping to draw him back into the intimacy you cherished.

“Mingyu?” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep. He’d blinked, as if waking from a dream, and he turned to you then. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes before he masked it with a smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just… thinking,” he replied, his voice trailing off. You could see it in his eyes—something was weighing heavily on him, a thought he was wrestling with that he didn’t want to share.

“About what?” you prodded, trying to gouge out something—anything that he’s willing to share. He shifted slightly as if the question made him uncomfortable.

“Just stuff. Don’t worry about it,” he said, a noncommittal answer that only left you more curious. He pulled you closer in a warm embrace. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

The way he shrugged it off felt like a wall going up between you, and for a moment, the warmth of his embrace dissipated. You didn’t push further; you never wanted to pressure him. Instead, you closed your eyes, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

You wanted to know, to understand what made him so distant at times, but every time you tried to get closer, he would slip away like sand through your fingers. You had asked about it in passing, and while he always deflected your inquiries with a joke or a change of subject, it left you wondering if there was more to his silence. You didn’t want to overthink it; after all, it didn’t happen often. Or so you told yourself, hoping that with time, he would open up.

But instead of that, Mingyu disappeared, leaving behind an emptiness that echoed in the spaces where he once filled your days with warmth and laughter.

“Are you keeping up?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at Seungcheol who seemed to be quite slow at processing what you’d just told him.

“Yeah, of course. Though, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little lost,” he admitted, arms crossed and holding his chin. “If you don’t mind, can I ask why he disappeared?”

You smirked, standing up at once. “I’m gonna need a drink for this.”

Seungcheol’s understood. “By all means.”

Mingyu’s disappearance wasn’t sudden or unexpected; there were signs you hadn’t recognized until he was gone. It began with him replying late to your messages, then not replying at all. You’d see him in class, and when you approached, he didn’t avoid you outright but dodged your questions and made excuses to avoid conversation. Eventually, he started sitting on the opposite side of the lecture hall, far from you and even missed a handful of classes.

You were upset, not just because he chose to stop seeing you but because he didn’t give you any warning. You had been easing into it, getting used to the idea of something more. But when he left so abruptly, you felt foolish.

Still, you had to come to terms with the fact that there was no commitment between you—what you shared was temporary, and he was free to walk away just as you were. It didn’t change the fact that his action was a total jerk move.

“It’s okay. We were just fooling around anyway,” you told yourself after almost two weeks of silence. You forced a smile at your reflection in the mirror. “That’s right. You’ll be fine.”

You tried to push Mingyu out of your mind, diving into a busy social life—going out with friends and meeting new people. At one party, you were in the midst of flirting with a cute guy when you spotted Mingyu across the room. A wave of warmth washed over you at the sight of him, but you played it cool, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation.

“So, are you always at Jinwoo’s party?” you asked, trying to sound charming but feeling more like a dork.

“Only when there’s free food,” he replied, a little too eagerly.

You forced a laugh, trying to play along. “Well, they do have snacks... and drinks.”

He leaned in closer. “You know, I’m really into snacks. Like, I could talk about snacks all night.”

Your stomach turned slightly at the sudden wave of ick. You couldn’t tell if he was serious, or just saying it to be funny. What the hell does that even mean?

You caught a glimpse of Mingyu from the corner of your eye, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the exchange with an amused expression. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized how embarrassing this was—Mingyu was listening, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him hearing you flounder like this.

“Right, snacks. That’s... cool.” You shot him a tight smile, glancing around the room in a bid to escape. “Speaking of snacks, I’m gonna go get me some more. Excuse me,” you smiled and slipped away from the guy, the weight of Mingyu’s gaze following you as you headed outside.

“Wow, that was awful,” Mingyu said, appearing beside you just as you stepped into the cool air.

“You,” you spat, glaring at him.

“Hello to you too,” he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “What’s your opinion on people eavesdropping on other’s conversations instead of minding their own business?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he teased, though the grin on his face suggested otherwise. “I can’t help it if you guys were loud enough for me to hear, can I?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s none of your business,” you replied smartly, looking away with a frown.

Mingyu’s laugh was deep, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way that was all too familiar. “Alright. I’m sorry. How about hanging out with me so you need not deal with all those lame guys?”

“Pretty sure you’re much much lamer,” you scoffed.

He called your name softly, a teasing smile playing on his lips but his eyes were more serious than before. You failed to ignore the way your heart began to race. “Lighten up. I missed you, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you now?”

“I did.” Mingyu’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before he grinned again. “I missed you so much, I thought I’d go nuts.”

The confession caught you off guard but your annoyance was stronger. You scoffed, struggling to hold back and trying not to just go ahead and smack him. “Then you shouldn’t have ghosted me like that.”

His smile faltered slightly. The air between you shifted again, the playful banter fading into something heavier. Mingyu didn’t respond right away, and the silence that followed wasn’t awkward—just filled with something unspoken.

After a long pause, he finally nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry about that.”

You smirked, looking away and fixing your gaze into nothing. He should be sorry, it’s only right to be. But the fact remained: you were not in the kind of relationship where you could hold him hostage for something he was allowed to do. Yet here you were, feeling more hurt than you were allowed to be.

You let the silence hang between you, thick with unspoken tension. It went on for a while before it was broken by the sound of people clambering out of the main door, their drunken laughter echoing in the cool night air.

“Wanna get out of here?” Mingyu finally asked, breaking the spell.

“Took you long enough to ask,” you replied, striding toward the street with him following closely behind.

As you were passing by the parking lot filled with cars, Mingyu suddenly grabbed your hand. “We’re not walking to your apartment. That’s like a mile-long hike.”

“What?” you asked, confused but still allowing him to lead you toward a black SUV.

He opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in. While he rounded the car to the driver’s side, you glanced around the unfamiliar interior, a fleeting thought crossing your mind that maybe this wasn’t his car. But as soon as he slid into the seat and turned the key in the ignition, you relaxed a little.

“Please tell me this is yours and you didn’t just steal it.”

Mingyu chuckled, his smile easing some of your lingering unease. “Why would you think that?”

“Because last time I checked, you didn’t have a car,” you replied, watching him navigate the vehicle out of the parking lot.

“Oh, this is my dad’s. He’s letting me borrow it while I’m staying with them.”

You blinked, surprised. That was the first time Mingyu had mentioned his family or anything about his life outside of university. Naturally, curiosity sparked in you.

“You moved back to your family’s house?” you asked, hoping to finally get some insight into where he’d disappeared to.

“Yeah, had to,” he said casually, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

“Why?”

He hesitated, fingers tightening on the steering wheel for just a second before he shrugged. “Just some stuff came up. Nothing major.”

There was something vague about his response, and you could sense the conversation wasn’t going to go any deeper. He’d always been good at deflecting when it came to his personal life.

You nodded, accepting the explanation without pressing further, even though the curiosity still lingered in the back of your mind. It was frustrating, but at the same time, you’d gotten used to the fact that Mingyu shared only what he wanted, and nothing more. Maybe it was just his way of keeping distance—emotional distance, that is.

When you arrived at your apartment, you barely had time to take a breath before Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. It was like being caged, but in a way that made you feel safe, wanted. You couldn’t explain how much you had missed this—missed him. His warmth, his touch, the way his presence alone seemed to fill the space around you.

As you moved together from the living room to the bedroom, it felt inevitable, like gravity pulling you into his orbit once again. You knew you were letting yourself fall, diving headfirst into the abyss of passion and euphoria that was Kim Mingyu. And yet, even knowing that, you didn’t stop yourself.

You couldn’t.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” he whispered as he took your breast in his mouth.

Yes, you wanted to scream out, but all that ever left your mouth was a lewd moan. And when he heard that, he slid a hand under your dress, moving down to your hips and slipping inside your lace panties to put pressure there. He caressed your sex slowly, and then urgently in circling motions while his kisses trailed up from your breast to your neck, nipping at the supple skin before they found your lips.

Your hands had a mind of their own, greedily removing his jacket, and then running your fingers on the firm muscles and warm skin underneath. As the pleasure grew, it clouded your brain and you clung your arms around his neck in fear that your trembling legs would collapse under you.

“Lie down, baby,” he rasped in your ear, pushing you gently towards the bed.

You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing slightly. You watched as he undid his belt and kicked off his jeans before moving to undress you out of your dress. You saw how he ogled your body with those beautiful lustful eyes before he hovered over you and traced the outline of your face with his fingers.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” he whispered. He slid a finger into your mouth and you sucked it, making him exhale sharply and dive in to kiss you feverishly.

You were almost breathless with desire, your skin prickling with anticipation of what was about to happen—of what Mingyu was about to do. You could feel him against your thigh, hot and hard, so you spread your legs open, welcoming him.

And then with one push, he was filling you—stretching your cunt in the most exquisite way possible. His body pressed against you as he thrust in and out in a rhythm that sent ripples of pleasure through every single nerve in your body.

And all of a sudden, he stopped, leaving you momentarily confused. He stood up and said, “Come here.”

Without a word, you obliged, walking toward him in a haste. He then spinned you around so you were facing the full-length mirror in the corner of your room. “Take a good look at yourself.”

You saw yourself in the mirror; messy hair, flushed cheeks, and your lips swollen from kissing. You could see him in your reflection, standing behind you with fire in his eyes. You watched as he reached for your breast, while his other hand cupped your pussy, collecting the slick in his hand before bringing it to his tongue.

You gasped at how hot he looked, and seeing your reaction made Mingyu grin. Without warning, he pushed you back on the bed. Before you could move to lay on your back, he lifted you by the waist so your ass was sticking out. Then he pressed your face on the mattress before you felt a sharp, delightful pain on your buttcheek where he smacked you with his palm.

“Oh, Mingyu!” you cried out.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “That’s not loud enough, baby.”

“Mingyu, please!” you begged, needing nothing but to be filled again.

Once again, he pushed his cock inside you, making you whimper in the most obscene manner.

“Fuck,” he grunted. His fingers dug hard into your hips as he thrusted deeply and vigorously. Your hand held onto to the sheets, pleasure so intense that you couldn’t think anymore—you couldn’t even see your own naked, sweaty self in the mirror in front of you. But you could hear the sound of bodies slamming into each other again and again, and a breathless moan that must have been coming from your own throat.

When the ecstatic high engulfed the two of you, he loosened his hold of your waist and your legs felt so weak you could barely hold yourself up. So you collapsed on the bed, followed by Mingyu, panting beside you with a satisfied look on his face.

“How was that?” he said smugly, knowing damn well how wonderful he made you feel.

You just laughed, snuggling into him as you put off washing up for a few more minutes.

The heated passion gave way to a quiet intimacy as you both settled into bed. The sound of rain tapping against the window filled the silence, soothing and rhythmic.

You chatted lazily about random things—music, classes, friends—until you finally gathered the courage to ask, “What happened to you? Where’ve you been?”

“I’m really sorry. I got busy with school and stuff at home,” Mingyu replied, his tone casual. But you could sense something unspoken beneath his words, as always. “Did you miss me?” he added, trying to keep it light.

You had missed him. A lot. But you weren’t about to admit that. “Barely. Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

Mingyu chuckled, clearly not buying it. “Is that why you were out there flirting with every cute guy you meet?”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You seem to know an awful lot about me. One might think you’re interested or something.”

He laughed softly, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flutter. “You’ll find that I am, in fact, very interested,” he said with a quiet conviction. And suddenly, the air between you shifted again, filled with tension—desire mingling with uncertainty.

“Say,” Mingyu began, his voice lowering as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to be exclusive?”

Your heart raced at the word. “Exclusive…? Like—”

“Like not sleeping with other people,” he clarified, though that wasn’t quite the question you were about to ask.

You were about to ask if he meant dating. Thank God you didn’t.

“Oh…” you trailed off, unsure how to respond. “Why?”

Mingyu shrugged, his tone still casual. “No reason. It’s okay if you don’t want to. You’re free to do whatever you want. But… it’d be nice, don’t you think?”

There was no reason to say no. The truth was, you’d stopped considering other guys long ago, the moment this thing with Mingyu began. Still, his offer made your heart race—both giddy and nervous. But there was no way you’d let him see that.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like a fair deal,” you quipped, hiding behind banter.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, curious. “Wait, what does that mean?”

You shrugged again, refusing to elaborate, though it didn’t really mean anything.

“Hold on—what?” He sat up, feigning shock, and flexed his arms dramatically. “You don’t think this is a fair deal?”

“Where?” you teased, squinting at his muscles like you couldn’t see them.

Mingyu grinned and started flexing even harder, pointing out specific muscles like they were on display. “You seriously don’t see this? Look closely and tell me this isn’t a fair deal.”

You giggled, reaching for him with your toes. Grinning, he grabbed your foot and pulled you toward him. The sudden tug made you squeal.

“Come on, baby, take it back.” He leaned down, hovering over you, eyes soft. “Take it back while I’m still being nice.”

“I didn’t ask you to be nice,” you taunted, your coy smile daring him.

Mingyu chuckled low in his throat. “You’re extra beautiful when you’re naughty, did you know that?”

“No idea,” you replied, grinning as he leaned in, capturing your lips again. When his hand cupped your boob, you pulled away from the kiss and pushed him off. “No.”

“Aw, fine,” he sighed in defeat, falling next to you on the bed. Quietly, he settled behind you, wrapping an arm around your torso and sliding his other arm under your head. “Get some rest.”

He didn't say much after that, but there was a warmth in the way he pulled you closer, an unconscious act of intimacy that made your chest tighten.

It hit you then—how much you’d come to crave moments like this, not just the passion, but the feeling of being with him, of having him there with you in the silence. You’d never felt this way before, not even with past relationships, and the realization made your heart race. You were falling for him, had already fallen. It wasn’t the way he teased you or the way he kissed you, but the quiet moments in between, where you felt like he saw you, really saw you.

It had been a long week. Between schoolwork, dealing with your chaotic schedule, and pretending like everything with Mingyu was still as casual as it used to be, you were exhausted. The tension gnawed at you—this thing between you two was starting to feel like more than it should. It wasn’t something you were ready to acknowledge yet, but it lingered in the back of your mind.

You walked into your apartment after a particularly grueling day, half-expecting the silence to greet you. When you walked into the kitchen for water, you found a small plastic bag filled with food on the table. Next to it was a tiny ceramic panda bear, about half the size of your palm.

You blinked, trying to process it. It wasn’t there this morning. Mingyu must’ve stopped by.

You walked over to the counter, looking at the items. Inside the bag were a couple of your favorite snacks—nothing big, just the kind of things you liked to nibble on when you were too tired to cook. There was no note, but the panda felt like something only he would give you. It was cute in an oddly sentimental way, like he knew you’d smile at it.

You heard a knock at the door and quickly set the bear back on the counter, hurrying to open it. Mingyu stood there, casual as ever.

“Hey,” he said, flashing you that familiar, easygoing grin.

“Hey,” you replied, smiling back. “Did you stop by earlier? Or do I have a creepy psychopathic stalker who’s obsessed with me and thinks it’s romantic to leave food for me at home while I’m away?”

Mingyu laughed heartily. “What are you gonna do if the creepy psychopathic stalker was me?”

“I’m calling the police,” you told him, closing the door to his face. He didn’t stop you, nor did he knock for about thirty seconds after you closed the door so you opened it again. “Come on in, then.”

“I was in the area so I thought I’d drop by and surprise you but you weren’t home,” he explained, kicking his shoes off at the foyer.

“Snacks and a panda?” you asked, raising an eyebrow but smiling. “That’s quite a combination.”

Mingyu shrugged, a soft laugh escaping him. “I saw it in this shop near campus. And I figured if it was you, you wouldn’t leave it alone in that shop.”

“I don’t go around adopting every bear figurine I see, Mingyu,” you snorted, picking up the panda again.

“Maybe, but since he’s already here, you should have it up there with your little bear family,” he beamed, taking the panda from your hand and placing it up on the shelf with the rest of your bear collections. “She can be their Chinese aunt.”

“Because she’s from China?” you asked and saw him nod his head. You both laughed. “I’m sure they appreciate you making their family bigger.”

“Thanks for saying that,” he smiled, not the mischievous kind of smile that he usually sported, but a sincere one—as if he was touched by your statement. “I’m glad I could make them happy,” he added, staring at the bear family.

You stared at him for a moment, something warm and unfamiliar swelling in your chest. This wasn’t just some casual fling anymore, was it? You tried to play it cool, but the way he just knew—the way he quietly showed up in your life, making you feel special in small but wonderful ways—made it harder to keep pretending you didn’t care. You could only hope he’d open up to you and let you into his world. That way, you could love him properly.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “It’s cute.”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning his gaze back at you. “You’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “Shut up.”

Mingyu chuckled, leaning against the wall, watching you with an unreadable expression. It was like he wanted to say something but was holding back. You were holding back too, both of you toeing the line of something you could not bring up.

“I’ll make you dinner,” you offered, trying to fill the silence.

“You don’t have to,” Mingyu replied, but you were already walking toward the kitchen, grateful for the distraction.

The rest of the evening was spent with each other’s company, sitting together on the sofa with your head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked your hair. The silence wasn’t awkward or strained; if anything, it was soothing, the kind of peace that made you feel safe and whole.

It is in moments like this that you realize you need not fill every moment with words. Being with him like this was comfortable and nice.

Mingyu shifted slightly, one hand holding your shoulder as he reached for his phone on the coffee table. You glanced up at him, watching as the light from the screen cast soft shadows across his face. You’d memorized every detail of how he looked by now—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, that playful smirk he always wore. But tonight, something about him felt different. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, framed his forehead just the right way, and you couldn’t help but think of how soft it looked—how soft it felt the mornings you ran your fingers through it when he was half-asleep. He always looked good, like some kind of casual perfection, but right now, with his face relaxed in the glow of the phone, he looked almost unreal.

You’d thought he was handsome the day you met him—he’d always had that charm that caught you off guard—but now, now that you’d spent nights tracing every inch of him, mornings laughing at how messy his hair could get, and afternoons like this where he seemed so unaware of how much space he took up in your thoughts... it hit you all over again. He wasn’t just good-looking. He was beautiful in a way that made you ache a little, like your mind couldn’t fully comprehend that someone like him was sitting here with you.

His voice broke through your reverie, a gentle reminder that this wasn’t some dream you’d conjured up. He really was here. “Ah, I almost forgot. Exams start tomorrow. Are you ready?”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, suddenly reminded of the real world. “I’ve gone through all my notes, but I’m not sure,” you muttered, the conversation feeling trivial compared to what was really on your mind. You weren’t thinking about exams. You were thinking about how, with him beside you like this, nothing else seemed to matter.

“We could pray,” he snickered. “For our grades.”

You rolled your eyes. “As if you have to. You’re gonna ace everything and graduate with flying colors.”

Mingyu chuckled. “We’re freshmen—ages away from graduation.”

“Yes, but if you continue at your current pace, you’d really graduate with distinction.”

He hummed, kissing your forehead. “You think too highly of me. I like it more when you used to call me a himbo. Less pressure.”

Without thinking, you let out a soft sigh, turning to look at him. Really look at him. His focus had shifted back to his phone, his long fingers casually scrolling through whatever app he was on, but there was a subtle tension in his jaw, like maybe he was thinking about something too.

“Let’s go to bed. I’m tired,” you said, nuzzling into his shirt.

Mingyu sighed, pulling you closer as he placed his phone down. “Sorry. I have to be home tonight.”

“Oh.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so disappointed, but it slipped out anyway.

Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, clearly sensing the shift. “I just have to help out at home tonight. My parents…” He trailed off, leaving the explanation half-formed, and you didn’t press him for more.

“Right. Of course,” you said, forcing a small smile. “You don’t have to explain.”

There was an awkward pause before he kissed the top of your head again, his voice soft. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” You sat up as he rose from the couch, the warm space he left behind feeling a little colder already.

Mingyu grabbed his jacket from the chair, glancing at you with a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll text you.”

You nodded, watching as he left, and once the door clicked shut behind him, the silence of the room felt a little too loud.

“He’s just busy with exams,” you told yourself, sitting in your living room with your elbows propped on your knees, chin in your hands. You stared at the bears on the bookshelf, speaking to them as though they could somehow offer an answer. “Or maybe he had stuff to take care of at home.”

It had been four days, and you hadn’t heard from Mingyu. He texted after he left your apartment like he said he would, but after that—nothing. The last thing he mentioned was that he was spending time with his father. But then, radio silence.

“He should at least check in on me, right?” you muttered, leaning back into the sofa. “It’s been four days.”

Just as you were spiraling further into your thoughts, your phone buzzed in your hand, making you sit back up with a jolt. Your heart raced at the thought of Mingyu finally texting you, but your excitement died down as quickly as it came. It was just Mina.

Mina: otw to pick u up. U ready?

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, bolting upright. You scrambled to your bedroom, throwing on the first outfit you could find that was semi-decent for a party.

You spent the next five minutes getting ready, knowing Mina lived nearby and would be here in less than ten minutes. By the time you heard the knock on your door, you were almost done with your makeup, except for the lipstick that you decided you’d do in the car.

“Coming!” you called out, rushing to slip on your shoes as you headed for the door. But when you flung the door open, it wasn’t Mina standing outside.

Mingyu stood there, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets, wearing the faintest of smiles. “Hi.”

“Mingyu!” you exclaimed, gripping the doorknob to resist the urge to leap into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d drop by. Is now a bad time?”

“No! I mean, yes—kinda! I’m going to Hoshi’s party,” you rambled.

Mingyu nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “Ah! I was supposed to go there too. Should we go together?”

“My friends are already on their way to pick me up,” you said quickly, wincing. “Come inside for a bit.”

You pulled him in by the sleeve, shutting the door before Mina could catch you in this whirlwind of confusion. Mingyu was here—after four days of nothing—and suddenly, all those unspoken thoughts came rushing back. Why hadn’t he reached out? What was going on?

“You said you’re supposed to go to the party?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yeah,” he answered, walking closer and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His sigh was long, deep, and heavy. Much heavier than you expected.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, placing a gentle hand on his back.

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been exhausted these days,” he confessed, sighing again. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

And you did. You let him stay there, gently stroking his back in hopes that it would bring him comfort from whatever it was that was bothering him. It was as if you could sense the weight of his worries pressing down on him.

In that silence, your mind raced. You wanted to ask what was wrong, but something in his demeanor urged you to hold back. Instead, you focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He needed this comfort, and for now, it felt like enough to be there for him. You didn’t move, not even when you heard the first series of knocks on your door. You just stood there, giving Mingyu the warmest hug you could offer.

When the second knocks came, followed by Mina’s voice calling your name, Mingyu pulled away. “Is that your ride?”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost in a whisper.

He smiled at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, lingering for a moment—thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. “I’ll see you there, then.”

“Alright,” you whispered, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I’ll go first, okay? You can stay for as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” he said, kissing your lips softly.

In the car with your friends, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Mingyu. Is he okay? What happened? Why did he seem upset and sad? Where was he these past few days?

“Where’s Mingyu these days?” Mina asked, tugging on your elbow to get your attention. “You guys are close, right?”

“Huh?” you asked, surprised by the question. What you have with Mingyu wasn’t a secret, but you didn’t openly tell other people about it. Whenever someone noticed that you seemed close, you always told them that you were friends. And in a way, you were.

Mina tilted her head slightly, confused. “Was I wrong? I thought you two got along.”

“Oh, yeah. We’re friends.”

Mina said, “I haven’t seen him around campus in a while. Is he okay?”

“I think he’s fine, yes. Why’d you ask?” you replied.

“Well, something happened a few days ago,” Mina said, hesitating. She turned to Jill, your other friend who’s driving. “Jill, tell her what happened.”

You met Jill’s gaze in the mirror briefly. “Lea and I saw him getting slapped outside the campus.”

Your heart ached. “When was it? Who hit him?”

“It was probably his mom,” said Lea, glancing at you from the shotgun seat. “She looked like it and Mingyu got in her car after. Luckily there weren’t many people there and I think only a few noticed. But he seemed really depressed at the time.”

You leaned on the backrest of your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you wondered about Mingyu. Is he having problems at home? Is that why he was upset?

“You’re worried. You must be close,” Mina said, probing for answers about your relationship with him.

“He’s my friend. Of course I’m worried.”

When you reached the party, you were stuck with your friends for a while, playing a round of drinking games with other people. When that was over, and you’d managed to slip away unnoticed, you searched the crowd for Mingyu.

You leaned against the wall, holding a half-full cup of punch, scanning the crowd. You spotted him nearby, talking to a group of friends, his usual easy smile lighting up his face. You smiled too, watching him. It was almost effortless with him, how he could make everyone around him feel comfortable. You’d noticed it before—Mingyu was always the life of the party wherever he went.

But then you remembered what your friends told you, and the smile faltered from your lips. How much pain was he hiding behind those sweet smiles? Were they fake the whole time? Or were they real and was he only able to smile this much outside his home? What was going on with his life? With him? At this point, the most fitting question would be, ‘Who is he really?’

You were about to join him when you noticed someone approach him—some girl you hadn’t seen before. She was tall, pretty, with perfectly styled hair and an outfit that screamed confidence. She touched Mingyu’s arm lightly, leaning in to say something that made him chuckle. It was a small, polite laugh, the kind he gave when he didn’t want to be rude, but that didn’t stop the knot from forming in your chest.

You tried to ignore it, reminding yourself that it didn’t mean anything. But when she took another step closer to him, her fingers lingering on his arm, you felt a strange tightness, a familiar sensation that crawled under your skin.

Jealousy.

Jealousy was a strange thing. You had never felt it before—not like this. The idea of losing him, even though you weren’t “together,” made your stomach flip.

Mingyu’s eyes flicked over the room, and then they landed on you. For a split second, you thought about looking away, playing it cool. But the look in his eyes, the way his face softened when he saw you, stopped you in your tracks. He smiled—his real smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners—and the knot in your chest loosened a little.

Without a word, Mingyu took a small step back from the girl and made his way over to you. You tried to act casual, leaning against the wall as if your heart wasn’t racing.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm and familiar. He stood close, the heat of his presence drawing you in.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to let the relief show on your face.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, leaning in slightly so you could hear him over the music.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, shrugging. “You seem popular tonight.” You couldn’t help the slight edge in your voice, even though you tried to play it off as a joke.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the subtle tone. “You mean her?” he asked, tilting his head toward the girl who was now talking to someone else. “She’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly, huh?” you replied, taking another sip of your drink. “Looked like she was being a little too friendly.”

Mingyu laughed softly, stepping even closer. His hand brushed against your arm, sending a familiar warmth through you. “Did you know I like my women territorial?” he teased, but his tone was gentle.

You scoffed, trying to hide the sudden rush of embarrassment. “Go find yourself someone territorial then,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his when you pushed past him.

Mingyu chuckled, turning to grab your wrist and stop you from leaving. “I don’t need to find one.” He tugged you towards him, hugging you from behind and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “I have my territorial girl right here.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. “Get off me. Why are you doing this in public?” you chided, shaking him off but not putting in any strength to actually get away from him.

“Oh, is this not allowed?” he asked and you were about to fire a retort when you caught your friends’ gazes from across the room. You felt your cheeks flare, looking away to avoid Mina’s teasing grin.

“Get off.” You pushed him away and straightened your clothes.

Mingyu chuckled heartily, tugging your shoulder so you’d face him. He was smiling softly, a softness that made you feel seen in a way that was more intimate than anything else. “Don’t worry. I’m yours exclusively.”

You stared at him, trying to read what was on his mind. You wish you could, but it was impossible.

The words hit you harder than you expected. Exclusively? He must be talking about the fact that you were exclusive fuck buddies. You wished he wasn’t, but you’d rather not have false expectations.

“I know,” you said, your voice quieter now.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung in the air between you, thick and unspoken. You didn’t need to say anything more. You both understood.

“Mingyu!” shouted someone from across the room. You both turned your heads in the direction of the voice and saw a guy waving for Mingyu. “Come on, man! It’s your turn!”

Mingyu chuckled, waving back. “You guys continue without me!” he shouted back. Then he took your hand, fingers lacing through yours, and gave it a small squeeze. “Wanna ditch?”

You shrugged.

“Come on. I know you want to leave and go for burgers right now.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips. “Did you just read my mind?”

“No, but I have a manual in my head with your name on it, and that information is saved here,” he replied, pressing an index finger to his temple.

“You’re so obsessed with me. Aren’t you embarrassed?” you quipped, pushing off the wall and walking toward the door, feeling the familiar warmth of Mingyu’s presence right behind you.

The night ended in your apartment, as expected. In the heat of the moment, you set aside everything—your confusion, the questions, everything. There was only you and him in this moment of passion. Once more, you let yourself spiral into the momentary distraction of pleasure. And when the high slowly dissipated, you found yourself in the warm bathtub, with your back leaning on Mingyu’s chest.

“Are you staying?” you asked softly. “Over, I mean. Or do you need to go home?”

“I’d love to stay,” he replied. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You closed your eyes, content with his answer. “I don’t even want you to leave,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

Mingyu chuckled lightly. “I don’t want to leave either. I wish I could just stay here. Forever, if that’s even possible,” he said and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Oh yeah? Then why do you—” You bit your lip, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. You weren’t used to confronting things like this. You looked up to meet his gaze, looking into his eyes. “Where will you disappear next time, Kim Mingyu?”

For a second, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite read. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet certainty. “Not unless you want me to.”

Your chest tightened. His words were simple, but the weight behind them hit you harder than you expected. How long had you been waiting to hear something like that? To know that, at least for now, he was yours, and he wasn’t going to slip away without warning like he had before.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice again. “No. I don’t want you to go.”

Mingyu smiled, that same easygoing grin that always seemed to make everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t. “Then stop worrying,” he said, his thumb still tracing those soft circles on your skin.

He didn’t make a promise, and maybe you should’ve asked for one. Because even though he stayed for a while, it didn’t stop him from fading away all over again.

You were at Mina’s apartment, sitting on the edge of her bed while she packed her things. Beside you, Jill was cradling a bag of chips, pointedly refusing to share.

“I still don’t get why you’re moving out,” Jill grumbled, slapping your hand when you reached for a chip. She shot you a glare and continued, “Can’t you just tell your parents you don’t want to live with them?”

“Asian parents,” Mina sighed, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Exactly! I don’t understand why they’d move to another state just to follow you here,” Jill said, incredulous. “That’s some next-level parenting!”

“They moved because they can’t stand being away from their daughter,” you chimed in, swiping a protein bar from Jill’s stash. “Also because they can.”

“Yeah, and that’s why it’s so confusing,” Jill scoffed, gesturing toward Mina. “My parents love me too, but they wouldn’t move out of their hometown just to keep me close. Are all Asian parents like hers? Do they really want their grown-ass kids living at home?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it happens more often than you’d think.” Your mind briefly wandered to Mingyu, remembering how he’d moved back in with his parents.

Before you could say more, music blared from outside the bedroom, cutting through the conversation. You looked up to see Lea entering the room, a towel draped over her shoulders like a makeshift cape. She carried a speaker in one hand, which she promptly set down on the nightstand.

“You say!” she belted, voice dramatic as she launched into the opening lines of a Hamilton song. “The price of my love is not a price that you’re willing to pay!”

The three of you groaned in unison.

Mina rolled her eyes, standing up to shove Lea out of the room. “Get out, nerd,” she said, feigning annoyance but unable to hide her smile.

“She’s sad. Let her grieve,” you teased, glancing toward the door where Lea continued knocking persistently.

Mina sighed and switched off the speaker, silencing the music. “She’s just overdramatic, that’s what she is. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore.”

“Maybe you won’t,” you said, shrugging. “Who knows? Some people like to disappear and not say a word. Only to show up out of nowhere and act like nothing happened.”

Mina crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head slightly as she observed you with a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

You shrugged, glancing at Jill who was giving you the same look. The chuckle you let out was awkward and defensive. “Nowhere. I’m just yapping for no reason. You know me.”

“Yeah, we know you,” Jill said, grinning playfully. “We know you’re hiding someone up at your apartment.”

“WHAT?” you exclaimed, backing away and laughing incredulously. “No. When did I ever! You’re crazy," you denied, snorting.

“Uh-huh? Then why haven’t we been invited there in like, six months already?” Jill interrogated.

You looked away. “I didn’t know you guys were keeping count.”

“Who is it?” Mina pressed, a teasing smile on her lips.

“No one,” you said briskly. “We haven’t talked in like, a week.”

“Oh, is it over before we even found out who it was?” Mina asked, appalled.

Before you could respond, Lea’s voice rang out from outside the door, full of flair. “You’ll be back! Soon you’ll see! You’ll remember you belong to me!”

Yeah. Mingyu will be back. Like always.

You went on with your life, like always. You’d learned to adapt. Classes came and went, each lecture merging into the next. On the first few times that Mingyu would disappear, you used to be distracted. Now you just went on as usual. Each day passed in a blur of classes, late-night study sessions, and the occasional laugh with friends.

“You still haven’t told us who this mystery man is. He’s not a professor, is he?” Lea questioned while you were at a cafe one evening.

“No! What the heck?” you said briskly, shaking your head at the ridiculous accusation.

“Is it Mingyu? You guys seem... close,” Mina teased.

“No,” you lied, blatantly.

Mina nudged your elbow. “Then why won’t you tell us?”

You hesitated, glancing down at your plate. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Jill asked, leaning in, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. “He ghosted you, right? You’re better off without him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you said, but the words felt heavy in your mouth. You could not bring yourself to tell them that he’d done this before, and that he’d be back. When he does, you’d take him back like you always did.

You didn’t want to tell them how much you craved his presence, even if it was a source of confusion and pain. The idea of him laughing and teasing you again, the thought of being held by him, being one with him in body and mind—it all felt like a drug you couldn’t resist. How could you tell your friends that? They’d kill you if they can’t kill Mingyu first.

Mina reached out, squeezing your hand. “You deserve someone who’s all in. Not someone who just pops in and out of your life.”

“I know,” you nodded, appreciating their concern. You know they were right, but you still wanted to wait for Mingyu.

Just as the ache began to dull into a familiar rhythm, you were in the library, buried under a pile of textbooks. The quiet hum of studying students surrounded you, but you were in your own world, focusing on an assignment.

“Hey, stranger,” said a familiar voice that made your heart race. You looked up to find Mingyu and your stomach flipped as you caught his eye. He looked goofy—exactly as you remembered. “Missed me?”

“More like I forgot what you looked like,” you retorted, trying to play it cool.

He laughed, that warm, infectious laugh that always made your heart flutter. “Oh, come on! You know you missed my face.”

“Not as much as I missed your annoying habit of interrupting my study sessions,” you shot back, though you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your face.

Mingyu grinned, leaning closer. “I can’t help it. What’s more interesting than me?”

Your heart swelled at his playful confidence, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in your chest eased a little. “A lot of things, actually,” you teased, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

“Lies,” he said pouting as he slid on the seat next to you, scooting so close that your shoulders were squeezed together. “So, any plans tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, but inside, you felt the warmth of his presence filling the void he had left.

Mingyu started to integrate himself back into your life seamlessly. He would swing by your apartment with snacks, distract you with silly anecdotes, and make you laugh until your sides hurt. You need not mention that most of these nights were spent with your limbs tangled underneath your sheets—half his weight pressing on you, your fingernails digging into his skin, as your moans blended with his soft grunts, creating a beautiful melody that made you lose your mind.

One afternoon, you found yourselves in the park, lounging on the grass under the fading sunlight. “So, what’s new with you?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you.

“Not much. Just the usual—classes, studying, hanging out with the same friends,” you replied, your gaze drifting to the clouds above.

He raised an eyebrow. “Just that? No wild adventures? No spontaneous trips?”

You laughed softly. “You’re my wild adventures, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s expression shifted, his playful demeanor softening as he studied your face. “I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I just needed some time to take care of stuff,” he explained, playing with the ends of your hair. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

His words hung in the air, and your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you made you feel special again—loved even. You could feel the warmth spreading in your chest, a blend of relief and yearning.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you said softly, your heart swelling with hope.

“I know,” he replied with a teasing smirk, but his eyes were sincere. You stayed like that for a while, just staring at each other, not quite understanding what your eyes were trying to tell each other, but content nonetheless.

“I should go,” you said, sitting up. Mingyu followed, holding your hand and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Go where? I was hoping we could hang out again tonight. How does steak sound? I’ve gotten good at it recently.”

“I am tempted, but maybe next time. I made plans with the girls.”

“Can I sleep over tonight, then? I don’t wanna go home,” he pleaded.

You winced. “Mina’s sleeping over tonight.”

“Didn’t she sleep over the other day, though?”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t have an apartment anymore. It’s a long story.”

Mingyu gasped playfully. “Is she moving in with you?”

“No, not really. But she’d be sleeping over sometimes.”

“Not your friend cockblocking me.”

You threw your head back laughing. “Dumbass. Go away.”

As the days turned into weeks, you settled back into the regular rhythm with him. Mingyu seemed lighter, more carefree. Every moment felt precious, as if you were both making up for lost time.

But behind the lighthearted moments, you could feel it—the underlying tension that often accompanied Mingyu’s presence. You pushed it aside, choosing to savor the time you had together instead of dwelling on what might come next.

Then, one chilly evening, it happened.

You’d heard somewhere before that one should expect disappointment. That way, the said disappointment would hurt less once it comes. They were only half-right.

“What’s your opinion so far?” you asked, watching Seungcheol lean back in his chair.

He shook his head slowly. “I’m not really in a position to comment.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one asking.”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I think you’ve got yourself stuck in an impasse. And honestly, it’s a frustrating one, because you knew what was going on, you didn’t like it, and you knew exactly what you could do to get out of it.”

“And your point is?”

“My point is, you could have spared yourself the trouble. You could have chosen differently—confront him, walk away, tell him to leave if he’s just gonna keep doing what he’s doing,” he replied.

You shot him a teasing smile. “Notice how you’re listing all the things I could have done, instead of what Mingyu should have done?”

There was a flicker of realization on Seungcheol’s face, clearly caught off guard. “Oh…”

You chuckled softly. “Exactly. That’s because people generally don’t trust men to be capable of picking up after their messes.”

“That’s actually a good insight,” he admitted with a nod. “So what happened after that?”

“You know what happened. It’s where I started when I told you this story. He called me after a week of radio silence, complaining about his annoying professor. Then I invited him over, we had sex, and we fell back into the same cycle of pretending like nothing was wrong. With him. Or with us. Then he vanished again.”

Seungcheol nodded quietly as he refilled your empty glass. For some reason, the gesture felt like a pat on your shoulder. In your mind, you thought that maybe this was his way of comforting you. That is—if he cared at all.

“That was the first time we fought,” you added, smiling bitterly at the memory.

At that point, you’d recognize the cues. You’d had Mingyu memorized and knew exactly from the way he was beginning to get detached that he was about to disappear again—late replies, making excuses and avoiding you at the campus. The thought of being abandoned by him once more struck a chord in you. Before you know it, you were confronting him, demanding to be heard.

“You’re doing it again,” you said, just as he was reaching for the doorknob.

Mingyu stopped, looked back at you, and blinked, confused. “Doing what?”

You gestured at him at the door. “This. The avoiding, the excuses.” Your voice was sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

He shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ve been busy—”

“Stop!” you interrupted. “Just stop it! Don’t lie to me, Mingyu. You think I don’t notice? You’re pulling away, and you always do this right before you disappear!”

Mingyu sighed, backing away from the door and facing you fully. He uttered your name—softly, pleadingly. “Come on, baby. Let’s not do this right now.”

“What? Am I supposed to just take it in stride while you disappear to God knows where without so much as a word? No. We’re doing this right now,” you demanded. The corner of your eyes began to sting with the tears threatening to fall.

He reached to touch you but you recoiled, and he could only clench his fist then withdraw his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say?” you asked, appalled.

“I don’t wanna make excuses.”

“Who said you have to?” you asked quietly, your voice unsteady. “You just have to be honest.”

“It's easier said than done!” he snapped, exhaling sharply as he held your gaze. You could see the hesitation on his face before he looked away and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What do you want from me, Mingyu?” you croaked out, trying to steady yourself on your feet. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” he said defensively, reaching out again but you backed away.

“But you do! And I feel like absolute shit because… because…” The words got stuck in your throat. How were you supposed to explain the constant tug-of-war inside you? The feeling of wanting more but being too scared to ask for it? “Am I just someone you use when it’s convenient? Someone you need when you’re lonely, then toss aside the moment you’re done?”

“No! Don’t say that!” Mingyu growled, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into a tight hug. You tensed at first, but then you felt it—the way his arms wrapped around you, not in anger, but in desperation. “I care about you. I care a lot about you.”

The force of his hold spoke louder than anything he’d said. His grip tightened slightly, but it wasn’t suffocating. It felt… conflicted, as if he was holding onto you for dear life but didn’t know how to tell you why. You felt his breath, unsteady against your hair, like he was battling with words that refused to come out.

But it wasn’t enough.

You stiffened in his arms, resisting the urge to melt into his warmth like you always had before. “Mingyu,” you whispered, your voice barely holding together, “if you care about me, why won’t you just be honest?”

He didn’t let go, but his grip faltered, his fingers loosening just enough for you to feel the uncertainty. His silence stretched on, filling the air between you, but he still couldn’t say it. He couldn’t give you what you needed—a promise, a reason, something to hold onto.

“Go,” you said, your voice raw with pain.

Mingyu faltered, his arms falling to his sides, his eyes pleading as if you’d just said something he wasn’t ready to hear. “Please…” he whispered, reaching out again.

You turned your back on him. “Just go, Mingyu,” you repeated, voice cracking as you struggled to keep your tears at bay. “Go. I can’t do this right now.”

With your back turned you didn’t see him linger by the door, hand hesitating on the knob. You didn’t catch the sadness clouding his eyes, the way his fingers twitched as if to reach for you one last time. And you missed the way he looked at you—torn, broken—before he slipped out of your life once again.

And with Mingyu gone, he didn’t see your legs give out beneath you. You collapsed onto the living room floor, where the two of you had spent countless hours together, making memories that now felt like they belonged to a different time. Your sobs filled the silence of the empty room, the weight of everything crashing down on you, and for the first time, you let yourself break at the place where you had once felt whole.

You went on with your life, almost mechanical now with its repetition. Classes, study sessions, dinners with friends—it was all about keeping your head above water, distracting yourself from the void Mingyu had left behind. You had been through this before, so in some twisted way, you were used to it. He always came and went, and every time he left, it hurt less. The only difference was that this time, you weren’t sure if he’d ever come back.

You missed him in the morning. Your eyes searched for him around campus all day. And your soul ached to be held by him at night. Your friends noticed your distracted state, and they had asked once but didn’t press on when you’d hinted that you didn’t want to talk about it. They figured that, eventually, you'd open up. In the meantime, you stuck to your routine, pretending everything was fine. And in a way, it was. Your tears eventually dried up and the restless nights decreased. The pain had dulled, and you were starting to accept that maybe this was for the best.

But it seemed like fate wasn’t done toying with you yet. One evening, you were lounging on the couch with Jill, Lea, and Mina. You were halfway through a movie you’d been meaning to watch, a quiet evening like so many before when your friends had kept you company so you weren’t left to your sad thoughts.

Then your phone rang. At first, you thought it might have been a mistake, that you were hallucinating when you saw Mingyu’s nickname on your screen.

“R18 plus plus plus? Who’s that?” Mina teased, noticing the name flash on your phone. “A fling?”

“It’s no one,” you muttered, still staring at the screen.

“Aren’t you gonna pick it up? It’s kinda loud, love,” said Jill, motioning to the TV.

You stood up, heading to the kitchen to answer the call. You knew you shouldn’t, but a part of you—the part that still hoped, still craved his presence—wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice shaky.

“Hi.” The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, and they said your name uncertainly.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Dan. Your number was on the phone so I called. Can you come to the bar downtown? It’s right across from 00 University. The owner of this phone had a little too much to drink. Can you come pick him up?”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Mingyu? You hadn’t heard from him in weeks. “I… yeah, I’ll be there,” you managed, glancing at your friends. “Give me twenty minutes.”

You ended the call and stood, grabbing your coat. Mina raised an eyebrow, but you avoided her gaze. “I have to go,” you said quickly.

“Now, now. You’re not ditching us for Mr. R18 plus plus plus, are you?” Mina teased again, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.

“R18? Is that a booty call?” Lea chuckled.

“It’s not what you think, guys.” You sighed, offering a quick, apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for their protests, you rushed out the door, your heart pounding. You were confused and surprised. Mingyu drunk and alone in a bar? This was so out of character for him. He’d never done anything like this before.

When you arrived at the bar, you spotted him immediately. Slumped against the counter, his head hanging low, he was a mess. His hair was tousled, his eyes half-closed, and his cheeks flushed with alcohol. The confident Mingyu you knew was gone, replaced by this hollow, drunken version. You approached him, appalled at the sight of him looking wasted.

“You must be her,” asked the bartender.

You nodded, glancing at Mingyu. “How long has he been like this?”

Dan sighed. “A few hours. He was drinking alone, staring at your number. Said he wanted to call, but wasn’t sure if he should.”

Your heart twisted at that. He wanted to call? He was thinking about you? But then, why hadn’t he?

“How much did he drink?” you asked, eyeing about a dozen bottles of beer in front of him and hoping he didn’t drink all of those by himself.

Mingyu stirred at the sound of your voice, his head lifting slightly. He tried to focus on you, but his eyes were hazy. He mumbled your name. “...is that you?”

Dan gave you a sympathetic smile. “He’s all yours.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You sighed, wrapping an arm around him, trying to lift him to his feet. He leaned heavily against you, his body sagging.

He whispered your name again, slurring the syllables, and for a moment, something inside you softened. But no. You couldn’t do this again. Not like this.

With a struggle, you managed to get him outside. “Kim Mingyu, you’re gonna have to pull it together, or I’ll leave you here.”

Mingyu groaned, trying to straighten up. “I missed you,” he mumbled, his words barely coherent. He stumbled, reaching for your face but missing, his hand landing on your shoulder instead. He rested his head on your shoulder, taking a deep breath. “Missed you so much.”

You winced at the words, unsure of what to feel. Did he mean it? Or was it the alcohol talking? “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

In the cab ride back to your apartment, he kept trying to pull you closer, his head resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. Every time he said your name, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he hurt you so easily, and yet make you feel so needed at the same time?

When you got him inside, your friends were still there, their faces full of questions. Jill stood first. “What’s going on?” she asked, though the answer was obvious.

“He’s drunk,” you said simply, guiding him to the couch. “I’m sorry. Can we call it a night? I promise I’ll explain later.”

They exchanged looks but didn’t argue. Lea gave you a quick hug before leaving, followed by Jill and Mina. “Text us if you need anything,” Mina said quietly, her eyes lingering on you as if she wanted to say more.

Once they were gone, you turned to Mingyu, who had collapsed onto the couch. He was mumbling your name again, his eyes barely open.

You knelt beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead. “You’re a mess, Mingyu.”

He smiled lazily, his hand reaching for your face. Then he chuckled. “Dan, you bastard, what did you put in my drink? Why am I seeing things?" he drawled out the words.

“You’re not seeing things,” you chided, albeit softly, as you pushed his hand away.

You sighed, pulling away from his touch. You started to help him out of his jacket, his body warm and damp with sweat. As you worked, he kept trying to pull you closer, his hands wandering over your body, his lips trying to find yours but clumsily landing on different spots in your face.

You swatted his hand each time, and pushed him away as much as you could. You stripped him down until he was left with only his boxers. Afterward, you gave him a blanket and were about to leave when he grabbed you by the waist.

“Stay,” he whispered.

Just like that, the tears you thought had dried up started welling your eyes again. You stood there, letting yourself get enveloped by his warmth again. If only he could stay like this—open, vulnerable, needing you. But deep down, you knew this wasn’t real. Tomorrow, he’d be gone again.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and gentle. You stirred awake, feeling a familiar ache settle deep in your chest. The first thing you did was rise out of bed and go to the living room. Mingyu was still asleep on the couch, his arm draped lazily over the edge, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.

Quietly, you walked over to the couch. You sat down on the floor next to him, folding your legs beneath you. Your eyes traced the familiar lines of his face, softened in sleep. He looked peaceful—vulnerable even, like he wasn’t the same man who’d disappeared for weeks without a word.

How many times have you told yourself not to expect more? That he wasn’t yours to keep. He was only yours in stolen moments—when the world outside didn’t exist, and it was just the two of you, tangled in each other. But those moments were fleeting, like a breath you couldn’t quite hold on to.

You sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. “Damn you, Kim Mingyu.”

What if this time was different? What if, just once, he stayed? Hope was a dangerous thing. Every time you thought you were free from him, he pulled you back in, sometimes with nothing more than a look, a word, or the weight of his presence.

Mingyu stirred, his eyelids fluttering open slowly. His gaze found yours almost immediately, bleary but aware. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at each other, the silence heavy with unsaid words, with everything you were too afraid to admit. The hurt. The longing. The quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

His eyes lingered on your face, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. You felt exposed under his gaze, like he could see through the walls you’d built to protect yourself from him.

Then, without a word, he reached for you. His hand, warm and tentative, cupped the side of your face, and you leaned into his touch instinctively, closing your eyes for a second as your breath caught in your throat. When you opened them again, his gaze was intense, searching.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and familiar. Then, his grip on you tightened, and you found yourself sinking into him. For a few moments, it felt like nothing else mattered. The pain, the confusion, the nights spent wondering where he was—none of it existed here.

You knew this wasn’t safe. Letting him back in, letting him hold you, kiss you—it was a cycle you couldn’t break. But you didn’t pull away.

He guided you to the bed, his hands sliding over your skin with tenderness, as though he was afraid you’d slip away from him. You weren’t sure who needed who more in this moment—whether he was seeking comfort from you, or whether you were the one hoping he would stay, if only for a little longer. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Your clothes fell away slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between you. His touch was familiar, yet it felt different somehow—softer, more cautious. You shivered as his lips trailed across your collarbone, your breath hitching in your throat.

He then lay on his back, guiding you to straddle him. You’d miss everything about him these past few weeks, but you didn’t know how much you longed for him until he was deep inside you. It hurt a little, but you didn’t falter, you just stayed there for a second, adjusting to the stretch that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Mingyu sat up, his hands supporting your back as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You okay?” he asked, his lips ghosting over your skin. You nodded, moving ever so slightly. Mingyu kissed the side of your head. “Good girl.”

You didn’t reply, too caught in the moment to think beyond the feeling of his hands on you, and his manhood inside you. Soon you were breathless on top of him, grinding rhythmically, back arching with each motion. His hands were as strong as they had always been, gripping your hips as he guided your movements. You did not contain your moans, knowing Mingyu preferred hearing them—that he loved hearing you.

Just as you were nearing release, Mingyu shifted your positions, pinning you underneath him. He stared into your eyes for a moment, caressing your cheek before he kissed your open mouth. And once again, he thrust into you. The room was filled with soft sounds—quiet breaths, gentle whispers of each other's names. Everything felt slow, like time had stretched out just for you two, giving you space to exist in this fleeting moment.

There was no rush, no frantic urgency. Just two people, tangled together in a slow, deliberate, and passionate sex driven not solely by lust but by something more powerful.

Love. You felt it in his every push, every kiss, and every touch. It was different this time. His hands lingered longer, his lips sought yours more often, and the way he whispered your name—it wasn’t just desire. It was more, and you felt it deep within your chest, like an ache that had finally found its release

And when it was over, you lay together, his arms wrapped around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. You traced lazy circles on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. His body was warm, his presence grounding you in a way that made you want to believe he could be yours.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.

You froze, your hand still on his chest as the words hung in the air. You weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you lifted your head to look at him, your heart hammering in your chest. “What did you say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, a faint smile playing on his lips as he repeated the words that made your breath catch. “I said, I love you.”

Your heart swelled, but with it came a surge of doubt. Could you believe him? Could you trust these words from the same man who had vanished from your life without a second thought so many times before? It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, one step away from free-falling into something that could either break you or save you.

You wanted to say it back. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but they felt too heavy, weighed down by all the times you’d convinced yourself that this moment would never come. Instead, you settled for leaning up and kissing him, slow and soft, your lips lingering against his. Maybe this kiss could say what you couldn’t. Maybe it could be enough to bridge the gap between hope and reality.

When you pulled back, you looked at him again, the uncertainty gnawing at your chest. “Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice smaller than you intended. “Or are you just saying it because… because of what just happened?”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with something unreadable. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I mean it,” he said, his voice rougher now, like the words were harder for him to say than he let on. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—something softer, more vulnerable. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. You both knew what this was, even if neither of you was ready to admit it.

You pressed another kiss on his lips, your hand cupping his face. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Seungcheol’s eyes stayed locked on you, you could see curiosity and concern written on his face. You just stared right back, keeping your lips tight.

“That’s it?” he asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving.

You nodded. “That’s it.”

He blinked slowly, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He’d been so engrossed in the story that neither of you had noticed how late it had gotten.

“It can’t be,” he murmured. “What happened after?”

You let out a breath, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “We talked. Well, fought, mostly. I asked him what he wanted—if he’d finally commit. In the end, he didn’t pick me. After everything, I thought he would. You know confessing his love and all that. But… meh.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s how it went.”

Seungcheol leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “So you walked away?”

“I don’t wanna go into details anymore, but yes I walked away with my dignity intact. I mean,” you paused to laugh. “I couldn’t keep letting him do that to me, could I? I had to stop it. I was better than that, though it took a while for me to finally grasp that fact and walk away.”

Seungcheol nodded slowly, but there was something unsatisfied in his expression. “Well, good for you. You deserve that. You deserve better.”

“I know,” you chuckled, but the laugh felt forced. “It’s funny, looking back. I acted so stupid for him. But I’m just glad it’s over now, you know? That chapter is closed.”

He tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “That’s good. Although I dare say, your storytelling is a bit, I don’t know… anticlimactic?”

“Is it?” you asked like it wasn’t something you already felt too. You forced a shrug. “Maybe. But that’s how it went. Things kept circling back to the same pattern and this part is basically the same. There’s only so many times you can replay the same argument, you know? I just skipped it,” you added with a forced smirk, hoping it would distract him from prying any further.

Seungcheol observed you for a minute, and you wondered if he could see right through you. Seems impossible. He didn’t really know you until today, and you were a pretty decent liar.

“Right,” he said, his tone softening, though the doubt hadn’t entirely left his face. “What’s next then?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I mean, who’s next?” he clarified, leaning back in his chair. “Kim Mingyu is not the only guy you’d ever dated, is he?”

You let out a short laugh, but it was strained. “No, there were others. But it’s late, Mr. Choi. The lady needs her sleep.”

He shot to his feet, his face immediately contrite. “Ah, of course! I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. If you want to hear more, you can ask the front desk for me. Tomorrow’s my day-off so I have time. We can also discuss the fee you promised,” you said, smiling and then narrowing your eyes at him. “That is, if you haven’t forgotten about it.”

“I remember.” He smiled. “Good night then.”

“Thanks for listening,” you said with a small wave as you turned to head toward your room.

As you made your way back to your quarters, thoughts of Mingyu swirled in your mind. You’d lied to Seungcheol. The ending between you and Mingyu wasn’t anticlimactic at all. It had been messy, filled with bottled-up anger and days wallowing in misery. But you’d never admit that to Seungcheol. Sharing a failed romance with a stranger was one thing; baring the ugly truth of just how miserable and pathetic you felt back then? That was something else entirely.

At the time, you thought he’d finally let you in. He did, for a moment. Mingyu had opened up about the weight of familial expectations, how it crushed him to follow a path that wasn’t his. He talked about the people and dreams he had to leave behind. And he confessed that the reason he couldn’t choose you, after all this time, was that same fear—that one day, he’d have to turn his back on you too.

“You don’t have to,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be here. Wouldn’t it be easier if you had someone to rely on?”

He’d smiled at you then, a smile filled with gratitude and maybe something like love. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

And so, you stayed. And Mingyu? He stayed the same—thoughtful, goofy, always consistent. Sometimes, he’d come to you in low spirits, and you’d let him lean on you in silence, even though he never fully shared his feelings. You fell deeper in love with him, slowly realizing that everything felt emptier, harder without him. You barely noticed time fly by, but you did notice that Mingyu no longer disappeared. He no longer detached himself from you. He was there all the time, even on days when he didn’t feel like himself.

Freshman year passed and you went up with him at his family’s estate to spend the break. He lived in a big house but his parents weren’t home the whole time you were there. It was nice to get a glimpse of his life, of the place he grew up in and the person he was before you met him. You spent time hanging out, making love, and being each other’s support system.

But despite how wonderful it was, despite the burning passion, the cloud of uncertainty loomed over you while you were there. The happiness you felt was so overwhelming, it scared you. It felt too good to be true, like the calm before an inevitable storm.

This storm would come earlier than either of you expected. And it came in the mail.

“What is it?” you asked, wrapping your arms around Mingyu’s seated figure. You tried to peek into the letter, but he put it away.

“Nothing important,” he replied, holding your arm and rubbing it as he looked up at you. He smiled at you and then pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Where were you?”

You pointed at your head, wrapped in a towel. “In the bath,” you said, straightening up and walking toward the bed to undo your hair.

“You were gone for an hour.”

“Yeah. I was actually waiting for you to join me,” you said, not hiding your disappointment.

He groaned. “Oh, man. You should’ve told me.”

You grimaced. “No, you should’ve looked for me when you noticed I was gone.”

He tucked the envelope in the drawer before jumping in the bed with you. He pinned you down, making you squeal. Then he started peppering you with kisses all over your face. When he caught a whiff of your neck, his expression immediately shifted from goofy to naughty.

“I’d love to do it in the tub, but the bed isn’t such a bad idea too,” he lilted, undoing the ribbon of your robe.

“The bed is the best place to do it, dumbass.”

Mingyu hummed in satisfaction. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said, making you laugh.

That afternoon was spent being one with each other too, like the previous ones. When you fell asleep, Mingyu was beside you, his head leaning on your chest while you play with his hair. But when you woke up, it was already dark and the spot where Mingyu laid was cold.

You pushed yourself upright, wrapping your robe around you as you padded across the room, calling out his name. “Mingyu?” The sound echoed back in the silence. You checked the bathroom, the living room—every corner of the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. No sign of him.

You tried his phone next, only to find it sitting on the nightstand. Thirty minutes passed, then an hour. Your calls for him became more frantic, though still unanswered. It was only when the housekeeper returned that she offered some explanation.

“He went out earlier, ma’am,” she said, smiling kindly. “He didn’t say where, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Mr. Mingyu would never leave you alone.”

Right, he wouldn’t. Yet that wasn’t reassuring at all. This housekeeper might have watched Mingyu grow up, even took care of him during those years, but she had no idea what Mingyu had put you through. Still, you wanted to believe in him.

The hours passed, and the next morning came. He hadn’t come home yet. You waited until the evening, and the following evening on the next day, and the next, and the next. Still no Mingyu. The house felt hollow without him, as though the walls themselves knew something was wrong.

It was on the fourth day, when your frustration turned to desperate curiosity, that you found the letter tucked away in the drawer of his desk. Your fingers trembled as you unfolded it—an acceptance letter to a university abroad.

He hadn’t mentioned this. Was he planning to leave? Had he already left?

You’d looked for him and asked everyone at his house for help but no one seemed to know where he went. They even had to contact his parents and you didn’t really expect them to know either, but it was frustrating to hear them say it.

“Have you checked his flat, ma’am?” the housekeeper asked.

You blinked. “I thought he moved out of his flat?”

The housekeeper shook his head. “No, ma’am. He’s been living here again, but that place in the city still belongs to him. Maybe he’s there?”

It wasn’t like him—not anymore. Ever since the two of you had gotten closer, you thought the days of him pulling away without warning were over. You had let yourself believe that, anyway. But now, you felt the creeping sense of something breaking, something final.

You commuted back to the city and went straight to his flat. You hated this feeling—the waiting, the uncertainty. It felt like standing on the edge of something crumbling beneath your feet.

And now here you were, in front of his door, heart pounding as you knocked. You didn’t expect him to answer. But, he did.

Mingyu stood there, looking disheveled, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days. The sight of him was both a relief and a frustration, all the hurt and confusion swirling inside you.

“We need to talk,” you said, pushing past him into the apartment before he could say anything.

He closed the door behind you but didn’t move. “I know,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What’s going on, Mingyu? You disappeared. Again. After everything we talked about. After you said you didn’t want to keep doing this.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m sorry,” he said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Your voice cracked despite your efforts to keep it steady.

Mingyu finally looked at you, his expression torn, like he didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words. “I don’t know… I needed time. I couldn’t—”

“You always need time, Mingyu,” you interrupted, your frustration boiling over. “You say you don’t want to do this alone, but then you push me away every chance you get. Do you even want me in your life?”

“I do! I’ve never wanted anything else! But I can’t… I—” he paused, running his fingers through his hair. “I can’t keep dragging you into this.”

“You’re not dragging me, Mingyu. I’m here to stay! But if we’re gonna keep having this… if you’re gonna keep doing this to me, then what’s the point?” you asked, the words heavy with your anger and frustration. “I’m sick of this, Mingyu. Aren’t you?”

His eyes widened, and you could see the conflict in him. But he didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything, and that silence hit you harder than anything else.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a step closer to him. “If you don’t want me, just say it. Tell me to go, and I will. But if you want me to stay…” Your voice faltered as you searched his face, desperate for any sign. “Tell me to stay, Mingyu. Say it.”

For a long moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your uneven breaths. You waited. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

“Mingyu, please…” you pleaded, holding back your tears. “Just say ‘don’t go,’ and I won’t,” you added, shaking your head.

Mingyu reached for your face, staring at you with tears in his eyes. Then he pressed his forehead against yours as he sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart sank, the answer clear even though he never spoke the words. You took a shaky breath, nodding to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered, wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek. “I get it.”

You backed away and then turned toward the door, your chest aching with every step you took. But before you could reach the handle, you stopped, glancing back one last time, hoping—praying—that he would say something, anything, to stop you.

But Mingyu stayed silent. And with that, you walked out with finality in your stride.

To say you were a mess after that was an understatement. You were a wreck—miserable and sad, wandering through the days like a ghost of your former self. You ran to your friends, crying in their arms for hours, the kind of raw, gut-wrenching sobs that left you breathless. You thought you’d only cry about it for a few days and get over it. But it went on for a whole month.

Some nights, after too many drinks, you’d find yourself dialing his number, the alcohol loosening the grip of reason in your mind. “Mingyuuuu,” you’d whine into the phone, your voice slurred and pathetic. “I love you so much! Take me back!”

The next morning, you’d wake up to the shame of your drunken confessions, staring at the ceiling with the weight of regret pressing down on you. You’d replay the conversations in your mind, cringing at how desperate you sounded, wondering how you let yourself fall apart so completely.

Your friends did their best to pull you out of the darkness, but every attempt felt futile. You’d join them for outings, but you were barely present, laughing too loudly at jokes that didn’t register or staring blankly at the world around you. One night, they dragged you to a party, insisting you needed to have fun. But there you were, clinging to your drink, watching everyone dance and laugh, while the memories of Mingyu spun in your mind. Once the reality set in that he was no longer there to ditch the party with you, you stumbled to the bathroom and locked yourself in, sobbing into your hands as the beat thudded through the walls.

Even the simplest tasks became challenges. Your studies slipped away; assignments piled up, and your grades plummeted. You’d sit in your lectures, staring at the board but absorbing nothing. Friends would express their concern, but you brushed it off with a half-hearted smile, not wanting to burden them any more than you already had.

Eventually, you hit a breaking point. On one particularly dark day, you sat alone in your room, surrounded by empty cans and bottles and crumpled tissues. The realization hit you like a freight train: you couldn’t do this anymore. You weren’t just grieving—you were drowning.

In the haze of your despair, you made the impulsive decision to skip the semester and move back home with your family. The thought of facing another day in the city without Mingyu felt unbearable. Packing your things felt like burying a part of yourself, but it was your only option. Every corner of your apartment did nothing to help your move on anyway.

You took one last look of the place where you made the most memories with Mingyu. And as you closed the door, you hoped it would also close that chapter in your life.

Your parents welcomed you with open arms, concerned and confused by your sudden return. You pretended everything was fine, but they noticed the shadows under your eyes, the way you flinched at the slightest mention of your time at university.

In the quiet of your old room, you often found yourself staring at the ceramic bears on your nightstand, remembering the small joy of building a family for these inanimate decors. Your friends tried to reach out, but you brushed them aside, too ashamed to admit how far you had fallen. They understood, giving you the time and space that you needed, knowing you'd be back once things were all better.

And as the weeks passed, something began to shift. The sun shone a little brighter, and the weight of your grief slowly lightened. You spent time with your family, rediscovering old hobbies and connecting with friends who reminded you of who you were before Mingyu. Slowly, you started to feel like yourself again. You laughed more, shared stories, and realized that life still held moments of joy, even in the absence of him.

One day, while cleaning your room, your eyes caught your little bear family, focusing on the grizzly and panda Mingyu had gifted you. Their faces seemed more cheerful now and you felt a bittersweet pang in your chest.

Where could Mingyu be right now? How is he? You had no idea, but you wished he was in a better place than before. Somehow, you wish you could at least extend a hand to comfort him, even as a distant friend.

Then an idea came. You picked up the grizzly and the panda, memories flooding back—of laughter, of warmth, of love. But you knew that holding onto them was holding you back. And right now, you didn’t really need them anymore.

You wrapped the figurines carefully in bubble wrap and wrote a short note:

“I’m sending these with a happy heart and I hope that instead of bitterness and sorrow, they will bring a smile to your face, just like they did when we first met them. Thank you for the memories. Know that I do not regret meeting you, and if I had to do it again, I would. Although, maybe I’d make better decisions then. You’ll always have a space in my heart, Gyu. I hope you’re in a better place—both in your heart and mind. Love, me <3”

As you dropped the package off at the post office, you felt lighter, liberated. The storm that had raged within you had dissipated, replaced by the gentle promise of new beginnings. You smiled to yourself, knowing that while the past would always be a part of you, it no longer defined you. You were ready to embrace whatever came next. You’re young, you have a whole life ahead of you.

And if you happen to run into Mingyu again in the future, you hope he will be in better circumstances. Whatever he was going through, you wished he’d get over it and be genuinely happy.

[fin]

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