#this almost too forever but i FINALLY took the time to finish it!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off.

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach.

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse.

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that.

But you were so wrong.

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug.

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky...

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath.

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself.

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn.

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing.

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person.

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile.

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk.

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head.

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot.

“Thank you.” You almost whispered.

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo.

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes.

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away.

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness.

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it.

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke?

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session.

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there.

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.”

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you.

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over.

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected.

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it.

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.”

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop.

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again.

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything.

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes.

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one.

“I can do it myself!”

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged.

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss.

He was good at it.

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself.

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop.

God, he must be big.

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly?

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question.

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs.

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot.

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?”

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.”

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do.

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.”

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died.

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch.

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.”

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips.

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you.

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed.

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time.

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.”

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold.

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong.

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?"

“I do.”

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips.

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs.

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer.

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there.

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing.

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress.

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails.

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time.

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues.

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside.

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life.

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could.

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away.

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder.

You both felt how close you were.

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple.

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you.

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session.

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.”

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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the orange peel theory * fem!driver

how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?

pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes

guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> max verstappen, #1

would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand

max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely

he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”

and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing

when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol

-> logan sargeant, #2

he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand

he doesn’t even need to be told

he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those

totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever

everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight

-> daniel ricciardo, #3

he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day

he feels all cool with all the cameras

suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile

“peel this for me please?”

he does it without question

he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her

-> lando norris, #4

literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange

she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim

also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges

or oranges, for that matter

she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her

-> pierre gasly, #10

he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade

looking pretty cool in his cool fits

an orange is presented to him without question

he grins at her and thanks her for the orange

walks away and eats the orange himself

-> sergio perez, #11

would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange

would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her

excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick

would take one piece of the orange for himself

claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself

-> fernando alonso, #14

takes the orange without her saying anything

he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics

literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange

eats the orange without her saying anything

she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question

-> charles lerclerc, #16

is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too

still peels it for her though

even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos

asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange

-> lance stroll, #18

he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business

they don’t interact often because she scares him

is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no

mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away

which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely

because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange

-> kevin magnussen, #20

asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl

she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura

so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies

outrageous, if u ask him

-> nyck de vries, #21

has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory

she thinks about him often though

they're texting buddies actually

-> yuki tsunoda, #22

literally came prepared

he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit

she gives him the whole orange

she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy

-> alex albon, #23

was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend

says no immediately

but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her

peels it and takes more than half of the share

-> zhou guanyu, #24

is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often

is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her

peels it anyway

asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment

-> niko hulkenberg, #27

she literally cannot find him

doesn't get to participate in the trend

she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel

and on the grid in his race car

-> esteban ocon, #31

absolutely ADORES her

peels it without question

peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him

she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back

-> lewis hamilton, #44

this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel

but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel

he's just so tired of the panel interviews

giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange

-> carlos sainz, #55

peels it for her without question

the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out

also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend

inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps

-> george russell, #63

is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange

he heard from alex what she's been doing

he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok

she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well

-> valtteri bottas, #77

is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing

peels the orange for her anyway

asks if oranges are her favourite fruit

suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache

-> oscar piastri, #81

if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him

but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no

he will peel the orange reluctantly

takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing

— bonus

-> liam lawson, #30

asks her to fuck off

only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself

asks her if he can have one from her orange stash

she says no in tears because he cussed at her

shrugs and walks away

-> sebastian vettel, #5

this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying

has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying

eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap

she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them

eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously

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aperrywilliams · 7 months ago

Text

That Green Monster (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your relationship with Spencer is fresh new, and some of his insecurities arise when someone new joins the team, making him react in a wrong way to you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. And then fluff at the end (I don't even understand myself). Spencer lashes out. Spencer is insecure. Reader is mad. Both are so madly in love, though.

A/N: This one has been sitting as a WIP for way too long, so I decided to finish it today!

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A shot in the neck.

That's what it took for you and Spencer to - finally - get together. To confess you loved each other.

Everything happened while working a case in Texas. You had cornered a suspect who was hiding in a restaurant. You wanted to open a communication line with him, but out of nowhere, shots got fired. And one of them ended in your neck.

What happened next was a blur to everyone, especially to Spencer. He barely remembers Morgan pulling him back so that the paramedics could check on you.

The ambulance ride to the hospital and the hours of waiting for news were excruciating.

In Spencer's brain, only the thought that he might lose you forever without coming clean about his feelings for you.

You have been in a similar situation before, but this time, he thought you wouldn't make it.

It would be the loss of a friend and the loss of the love of his life.

If Spencer has to be honest, he realized he loved you after your first month working at the BAU. And with every passing day, the feeling only got stronger. But he was scared of saying anything, afraid of changing - or losing - the strong bond you guys already had.

So, he kept it to himself for years. For six years, to be exact.

But what he didn't know was you had fallen for him, too.

And how could you not? You both went through so many things over the years: Spencer's kidnapping, his Dilaudid problem, your family issues, the injuries, bad cases, unsubs attacks, hospital visits, and so on. With every bump in the way, you both were each other rock. Always together, no matter what.

The team affectionately called you Mulder and Scully, but in reverse roles, of course.

But even if, at some point, both of you realized what you had was much more than a friendship, neither of you did something about it.

Until you got shot in the neck.

In that uncomfortable waiting room chair, Spencer prayed, to whatever or whoever could listen, for a chance to make things right.

So when you woke up in your hospital bed hours later, the first thing you saw was Spencer's face.

He was by your side as always. But this time, he had something to tell you. Spencer didn't have the chance, though, because before he could say anything, three words blurted out from your lips: 'I love you.'

Between happy tears, you both spent hours talking and coming to the conclusion you were both idiots in love.

You didn't say anything to the team, but you all knew they knew, so it became unspoken knowledge after you were released from the hospital.

-------

With you home due to your neck injury and JJ on maternity leave, Hotch decided that some help would be better than putting more pressure on the remaining team members.

That's why he borrowed an agent from Sex Crimes.

Spencer had already told you that there was a new agent, but he hadn't developed this information in detail.

You knew him on your first day back, a month after you got shot.

Once you exited the elevator on the sixth, you headed through the bullpen glass doors. When you pushed them open, you didn't realize that someone was going in the opposite direction, and you almost hit the guy in the face with one of the doors.

"Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" you exclaimed when you realized what almost happened.

The man shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. Don't be. Nothing happened."

"But I almost hit you with a glass door," you pointed. The guy didn't seem phased by it, though.

"I'm okay, really," he insisted, flashing you a smile. You hadn't picked much of his appearance, to be honest, but the guy was easy on the eyes. Another thing that caught your attention was you had never seen him before.

"Do I know you?" You asked with curiosity.

"I don't think so. I'm Agent Dodds. Jake Dodds," he introduced himself, extending his hand. You've heard that last name before. You told him yours, shaking his hand.

"Really? You are a BAU member, right? I'm the backup agent Hotchner brought to the team," he explained, and then it clicked. He was the new guy.

Jake Dodds was young, fresh and motivated. After his first year in Sex Crimes, he already has a lot of accomplishments to show off. And, of course, he was doing his best to impress Hotch and the team.

Coming to the office bright and early and being the last to leave gave Dodds a chance to engage with the cases and the team members - you included. Due to your neck injury, you were mostly on desk duty, so you had enough time to help Jake with paperwork and all the questions he might have about past cases. And Dodds had many.

In the weeks that followed, he has spent a lot of time by your side, working with you when the team wasn't out of town.

It was part of your nature to be forthcoming and willing to teach others. And having worked at the BAU for almost six years, you felt like you could teach one thing or two.

Spencer loves that from you; it's one of the many things that made him fall in love with you. But for some reason, Jake's closeness to you started to bother him.

Spencer knew it was irrational and without foundation. Still, in the past weeks since Dodds joined, with each laugh from you when Jake cracked a joke, every time you sat together at the office a little too close, or every day you decided to have lunch with Jake rather than him, Spencer's jealousy only got stronger. It didn't help the team's comments about you and Jake.

'Dodds looks hooked by her'; 'The newbie definitely is flirting with her'; 'Really handsome view she has over there.'

Spencer could only bite his tongue. He could easily assume that the team was only messing with the situation, but the green monster growing inside didn't let him think clearly.

Spencer knew you, and you would never do something to hurt him, so why did he feel that uneasiness inside of him?

Maybe the fact you were in the early stages of your relationship made Spencer insecure. It was all new and fresh; he was happy with you, but although you both have known each other for years, he was inexperienced in the love department. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was different.

So instead of talking to you—which he knew was the right thing to do—Spencer did what he usually does when he feels overwhelmed: he shuts people out.

And you did notice, of course.

Something was troubling him, you knew that, but every time you brought up the topic, he dodged it. You didn't look much into it at first because you knew Spencer would talk to you eventually when he felt ready. Or you assumed he would.

But the days went by, and Spencer still hadn't told you why he had been so distant, so you decided to confront him.

You both were watching a movie at your place, but you noticed Spencer wasn't paying attention to the TV. After an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to bring this up, you tested the waters.

"Spencer, are you okay?" you asked him, genuine concern lacing your voice.

The question hung in the air enough to make you think he might not hear you.

"Spencer?" you tried again, swearing you heard him huff even if he tried to be subtle.

"I'm okay, just tired," he hastened to dismiss, not looking at you.

So he heard you, but you had to call his name again to get an answer. Something is definitely wrong.

Contemplating your options, you chose to end the 'patiently wait until he comes to you' strategy. You were his girlfriend now. Why he couldn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?

"Okay. This bullshit needs to stop now. You have been weird for too many days to tell me now you are okay and just tired. I know something happened and need you to tell me what it is," you demanded.

Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, Spencer had an inner debate about coming clean to you. He didn't want to admit how much Jake's closeness to you was bothering him. Spencer didn't want you to think about him as the possessive and clingy boyfriend who can't see his girlfriend near other guys.

He wasn't like that, right?

"You are imagining things. I'm perfectly fine," Spencer deadpanned, eyes returning to the TV.

Your mouth went slack. Were you imagining things? Was he thinking you were stupid?

"So I'm imagining things, uh? It's not you being defensive right now, isn't it?"

"No." He gave you a curt answer that meant precisely the opposite of what he was implying.

You wanted to give him a chance to open with you, but Spencer wasn't engaging.

It seemed easier to talk about what was happening to each other when you were only friends. Why is it so hard now you are a couple? You couldn't understand, and your patience was running short.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you called him out in frustration. "Who do you think I am? A random person who hasn't known you for fucking six years?"

Spencer internally flinched. He saw the confusion and anger mixed in your eyes, and he felt the urge to hug you tight, telling you he was being an irrational jealous asshole. But Spencer didn't bring himself to do it, and instead, he tried to play cool and detached.

"I already told you. Everything is wonderful, at least for me. Not for you?" Spencer asked casually.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked calm and collected, but you could feel he was anything but.

"Okay. I'll bite the bullet. So the distance between us in the past weeks doesn't bother you as it bothers me," you concluded.

Spencer let out a bitter chuckle.

"Funny you're bothered by that. You have seemed very busy in the past weeks," Spencer mumbled.

A slip that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Very busy?" you echoed his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spencer shrugged, unamused.

"Exactly what it is. You have been very busy at the BAU lately. I only have been giving you space."

You squinted your eyes, raking your brain to understand Spencer's meaning. For your mandatory desk duty, you have spent more time in the office than in the field, but besides that, what has been different?

And then it clicked on you. Jake Dodds.

Sure, you've been very willing to teach him things and help him with his work, but that only explains Spencer's annoyance if there is another reason.

"Is this about Dodds? Are you jealous of Jake?" you questioned in disbelief.

Spencer's face paled. You had caught him.

After your deduction, he should have told the truth, but Spencer is stubborn enough not to give in, especially if that meant recognizing something he felt embarrassed of.

"W- what?! No! Where did you get that? I'm not jealous or remotely close to that," Spencer rebutted defensively.

Oh, he was definitively jealous. At the realization, you let out a giggle, eyes softening at your boyfriend. For you, there is no guy he should be worried about- not for Jake or any other person. Your heart is his, and you know there is nobody in this world you want to be with more than Spencer.

But Spencer's face deflated. You were laughing at him, and he felt even worse.

"Spencer, there is no reason for you to be -"

You couldn't even finish your sentence when Spencer cut you off, standing from the couch.

"I already told you! Am I not speaking English to you?"

His face was red, but not by embarrassment anymore. Now, it was a kind of contained rage.

Stunned by his reaction, it took you a few seconds to say anything.

"I - I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Don't be rude," you chimed.

Spencer let out a humorless chuckle.

"Rude, did you say? Am I rude because I disagree with you? Is that? Or am I rude because this doesn't have to do with you?"

"Excuse me? When did this turn into a problem related to me?"

You stood to mirror his stature so as not to look vulnerable.

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you disappointed because not everything or anyone in this world is revolving around you?"

Spencer's voice was cold and sarcastic, something you had seen in him before but never directed toward you. He was outrightly saying you were self-centered.

"Spencer -" you tried to warn him to back off, but Spencer didn't stop.

"No. I get it. You like the attention. But, I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish self. Maybe the young and funny Agent Dodds could help you with that. But not me."

A dead silence settled in the room. If a needle had fallen on the floor, it would have made a noticeable noise.

You couldn't believe that man was your boyfriend—the man who was telling you such hurtful words.

Spencer saw how your features morphed from confused to hurt and then to offense, and with a twist in his guts, he knew he had fucked up.

"Are you done?"

Your tone was flat and collected, even if, on the inside, there was a storm of feelings. Spencer was deflated and looking for the right words to apologize.

"Hey, look, I'm -"

"I asked if you were done." You questioned harshly this time, and Spencer only gave you a shy nod.

"Okay, now get out!"

Your command was only followed by your actions as you walked to your entrance to open the door.

With horror, Spencer tried to sputter words to change your mind.

"I'm sorry. I - I didn't - Please, don't do this."

"I said, get out! I don't want you here!"

You emphasized your words, gesturing to the open door.

"Baby, I wasn't - I didn't mean what-" Spencer tried again, but you had made up your mind and didn't want to hear him.

"I don't fucking care! You had your time to explain yourself, and I don't want to hear anything else from you."

Spencer knew that nothing he could say at that moment would help his cause, so like a dog with the tail between his legs, he slowly made the walk of shame towards your door, but not before looking at you and begging for forgiveness with his eyes. It was a useless thing because you didn't even look at him back. Once he was out of your sight, you slammed the door shut, and your facade crumbled.

Tears started to fall freely, in a combination of pain and frustration.

It's needless to say, you couldn't sleep that night.

-----------------------------------

Spencer looked distracted and visibly sad.

Morgan knew something had happened to him, even if the man had denied the fact for the past two days. And Morgan was sure it was something related to you. It looked like Spencer would combust from guilt whenever his eyes landed on you. Morgan's suspicion turned to be right the moment you caught Spencer's gaze, and you purposely averted it.

"Okay, pretty boy, what did you do?" Morgan questioned Spencer when he caught him pouring coffee in the kitchenette.

"What? Me? Nothing!" Spencer defended himself, but the crack in his voice did nothing to help his cause.

"So she's not talking to you just because?"

Spencer shrugged, leaving the pot over the counter.

Was he being so obvious? If Spencer wanted to maintain the facade that 'nothing is wrong here,' he was failing miserably.

Morgan scoffed, grabbing a mug to pour some coffee for himself.

"Come on, Reid. There must be something. Since yesterday morning, you look like a kicked puppy, and she seems visibly upset, and you're both always attached to the hip."

Dangerous territory, Spencer thought. But at this point, his regret was more powerful than keeping your relationship private.

"She is mad at me," the man recognized. It was a 'vague' recognition, but it was something.

Morgan seemed not surprised, though.

"No shit, Sherlock. The question is why, pretty boy," Derek prodded.

Spencer sighed deeply. How could he express what really happened without telling the whole truth?

Morgan saw the struggle in Spencer's eyes.

"I know you are both hurting by whatever happened. Maybe talking would help you clear your head and think about how to fix it."

Spencer took in Morgan's words. Some advice could help, he decided.

"We fought. I mean, we argued two nights ago, and she kicked me out. And now she is not talking to me, and I don't- I want to apologize, but I don't know how."

Spencer winced, just remembering your fight.

Derek looked at him incredulously.

"She kicked you out? What in the world did you do so she reacted like that?"

The actual question was 'what he said' because, strictly speaking, he didn't do anything besides let his mouth run on its own accord.

He regretted every word he said to you the second they left his mouth, but the damage was done, and you were fed up enough to listen to his apologies, so you yelled at him to let you alone. He didn't blame you. But he was feeling miserable, and it showed.

Spencer told Morgan exactly what happened—word by word.

"Jesus, Reid. I didn't peg you like the jealous type," Morgan acknowledged. Spencer shook his head.

"It's not like that. I mean, I know she loves me..."

"But?"

Spencer sighed. "What if - what if she realizes there are better men than me? That I am not enough for a romantic relationship?"

Morgan's eyebrows knit together. Spencer's face was pure panic, only thinking about the possibility.

"And Dodds would be better than you? You know he's like a kid, right?" Morgan pointed.

"Yeah. A young man with a lot of confidence that makes her smile and has her undivided attention. He's smart and qualified for this job like any of us. I'm not better than him. And I can perfectly be disposable in comparison."

That was the thing. Spencer felt insecure about you finding someone better than him.

Morgan looked at him empathetically.

"Man, I think you are looking too much into it. I don't think you should feel threatened in your relationship with her. And I guess she thinks the same and feels hurt for you thinking that."

Spencer nodded. "That's why I know I fucked up. I hurt her for my insecurities. It's all my fault," he lamented.

"You need to talk to her," Morgan advised, and Spencer whined.

"How? She hasn't spared me a glance in two days!"

"You're a genius, Spencer. And above all, how long have you known her? Five years? Think of something."

"Five years, eleven months, three weeks, and four days," Spencer corrected without hesitation.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You'll figure it out."

Spencer sighed deeply as Morgan patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchenette. Derek was right; they should talk. Spencer just had to figure out how to make that happen.

-----------------------------------

That night you were sulking at your apartment, laying on the couch and watching some crap on the TV, when three knocks alerted you.

You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't think Spencer could be outside your door. You were clear in telling him you didn't want to talk to him when he cornered you in the breaking room this afternoon.

But if you knew something about Spencer Reid, it was that he could be stubborn as fuck. So when you looked by the peephole and saw him standing there, you only closed your eyes and sighed.

Spencer knocked again. "I know you are there. And I know you don't want to talk to me. But please, let me do the talk. Please, at least listen to the things I need to say."

"You already said enough," you spat from your spot on the other side of the door. Spencer gulped hard. He said enough hurtful things to you to kick his ass, but he was determined to gain your forgiveness somehow.

"I can't stress enough how sorry I am for that. But I need you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Spencer paused, and when he didn't hear you say anything, he continued. "I'm an asshole, and I would understand if you want to break up and never see me again. I mean, well - it - it would be kind of difficult not to see each other because we work together, but you know what I mean. Or maybe not, I don't know. Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?" Spencer chastised himself, trying to control his nerves.

You could hear him struggling, so you decided to spare him a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. You opened your door and saw him still trying to sputter what he wanted to say.

"If this is your way to apologize, you are doing a terrible job." Your voice was not angry but tired. Because if he had had two tortuous days of you not talking to him, you haven't done it any better, overthinking about your fight over and over again.

Spencer's glassy, pleading eyes found yours.

"I know. It seems it's another thing I suck at," he admitted fidgeting with his hands. "Would you, uh. Would you let me try again? Apologize. That is."

It's true you were still mad with him, but you really wanted to understand why he reacted the way he did that night and said all the things he said. You know him too well to ignore that something else beyond mere jealousy clearly triggered his outburst.

Without saying a word, you gestured for him to get into the apartment. Spencer was quick to comply before you changed your mind.

You both took seats on opposite sides of the couch, eyes overly interested in your living room rug. After some minutes of silence and knowing he needed to say something, Spencer cleared his throat.

"I guess I'm going to start with the beginning," he prefaced, keeping his hands in his lap as you turned to contemplate him in silence. "Uh - you know it took me time to come clean with my feelings for you. A lot of time, almost six years," he chuckled nervously. You nodded, not wanting to interrupt him, fearing to get him more anxious.

"The thing is- I have been in love with you for so long and creating scenarios of us in my mind that - that now I know it is real, I don't - It's still difficult to grasp the idea we are together, you know?"

As Spencer raked his hair, collecting his thoughts, you couldn't help but remember all the things you both went through until you decided to tell the truth to each other. Six years is a long time. But you wanted to believe it has been worth it.

"I'm not used to a life where I get to be happy; when I think I am, things crush down, and I lose everything. It's a rule: good things don't last in my life."

You know how difficult it has been for Spencer to accept that he is not cursed or anything like that—a very difficult task, knowing the things he has been through.

"So my mind began to be haunted by the idea that it was a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me, and I'm only worth it as a friend."

His words made you recall the times you both discussed your love life in the past and all the doubts weighing on Spencer's shoulders. After those conversations, you always swore to make him feel loved and appreciated.

"And then you came back to work, and Dodds was there. I created this whole scenario, telling myself that you would be better with someone like him."

Spencer paused to gauge your reaction. You were openly listening to him, taking in every word.

"I know it's unfair to you. I - I betrayed your trust by mulling those ideas and saying all those hurtful things I truly don't believe. I'm so sorry; I don't have a defense other than my incompetence in dealing with my insecurities," Spencer concluded, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips and averting your gaze. He looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and it hurts you to acknowledge how small he feels about himself. You reached your hand tentatively, touching his forearm, and Spencer's eyes drifted back to you.

"Spencer, you have to know there is no one in this world who I love so deeply as I love you. No man could compare to you. No matter how young or confident or whatever difference you can name. You are the most thorough, caring, and selfless person I know, and I love you so fucking much it hurts," you gave his arm a gentle squeeze to emphasize your point. Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He still needs to get used to your compliments.

"What I still don't get is why you didn't tell me. Don't you trust me enough to talk to me about how you feel?"

Spencer hastened to reply, taking your hand in his. "No! It's not that! I do trust you with my life!"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth at the beginning?"

"I - I don't know. I thought you would see me as the shitty boyfriend who can't see his partner near another man. It's as if I wanted to control you. And that's far from what I want," Spencer explained, scooting by your side as his grip on your hand tightened. "It was my problem, not yours. You did nothing to make this happen. I'm the one who must have to fix it." You shook your head.

"Baby, no. If it is something that upsets you, it is my problem, too. Spencer, we need to talk about those things and resolve them together."

Spencer's head hung low, taking in your words.

"But why? I am the insecure one, and you have done nothing more than show me how unfounded my fear is."

"Well, because you're still my best friend, and I care about you." Spencer's gaze met yours again. "It's the thing I first loved about us, you know? I love feeling safe with you and having the trust to talk about what is happening to us." With loving eyes, you brought his hand to your lips to kiss it.

"I want you to keep being my best friend, too," Spencer said with a hopeful smile. It was all you needed to hear.

"Then please don't forget that. You can always talk to me, and I promise to do the same, okay?" Spencer nodded at your words, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay. I promise," Spencer replied before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You melted in his arms, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent, something you have been missing in the past two days.

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "So so much."

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry for my behavior two days ago," Spencer muttered in your hair.

You chuckled, slightly parting to look at him.

"Yeah, we have to work on taming that green monster, doctor. Otherwise, Hotch won't be able to bring anyone new to the team," you pointed, leaning to kiss his lips. Spencer smiled into the kiss.

"That means you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. You narrowed your eyes.

"Yes. But you still have to make it up to me," you teased, faking seriousness.

Spencer nodded eagerly nonetheless. "Whatever it takes."

"You could start making something to eat. I'm starving here after two days with a hole in my stomach," you rubbed your belly for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled, standing and strolling quickly to the kitchen. He felt so relieved after coming clean with you that he swore not to make the same mistake again. That green monster fed by his insecurities dissipating as he thought how lucky he was to love and have you in his life.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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bloodibambiidoll · 10 months ago

Text

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson angst #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson fluff #Dolly writes #divider by me

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taegimood · 1 year ago

Text

— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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kirammanswifey · 2 months ago

Note

Hii, I read your pt 1 n 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their s/o

Would you be able to hurt us(me) even more? Like they took too long to get us back that R already move on with someone better

Pretty pretty please🥺?

what if you never reconciled with arcane's characters after the breakup x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i loved the person who asked me to do this because i had thought about doing it but i didn't know if you guys wanted to read more of this but i guess we'll are masochist. so i ended up depressed after writing this, and that's saying a lot for a psychology student, the one i found the saddest and the hardest to write was jinx's, i love writing sad things but it's already too much suffering, later I'll come up with something lighter and nicer. as you guys know, requests are open ;)

break up link:

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The auditorium filled with applause as you finished your presentation. The project you had worked tirelessly on was finally being recognized. You felt proud, but also empty, as if something important was missing. As you looked up, you saw him. Viktor, at the back of the room, trying to go unnoticed, almost ready to leave.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It had been two months since the breakup, two months of complete silence. Without thinking, you called his name. "Viktor."

He stopped, turning slowly toward you. The auditorium's light accentuated the paleness of his face, his sunken eyes, and his thin body seemed even more fragile. Concern washed over you instantly, but you held back the urge to approach and ask what was happening to him.

"How are you? How have things been going?" you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm you were trying to project.

"Fine." His response was cold, distant, almost mechanical. "The lab is progressing. The projects are going as expected."

Each word of his was a dagger, his formality making you feel like a stranger, as if you had never been part of his life. The lump in your throat grew, but you forced yourself to continue. You couldn't leave things like this.

"Why didn’t you reach out, Viktor? Do you still feel the same?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, fearing the answer but needing to hear it.

Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, I still feel the same. What I’m doing is bigger than us. I can't afford distractions."

His voice was firm, but you could sense the slight hesitation, the pain he was trying to hide. Despite that, it hurt more than you expected. You nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, though it broke your heart.

"Thank you for coming," you said coldly, matching the distance he had put between you. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."

You turned around, ready to leave before the tears betrayed your façade. But as you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, almost as if he was waiting for something more, something you weren’t willing to give.

Viktor stood there, motionless, internally conflicted. In his mind, every memory with you fought against his convictions. He wanted to approach, to risk a second chance, to ask you to come back. The thought of losing you forever was suffocating him, but he also feared that his illness, his obsession with science, was too much for you to bear.

Finally, he decided to take that step, to approach you, to break the barrier he had built himself. But by the time he gathered the courage, it was too late. You had been intercepted by a colleague, a man who radiated health and vitality, someone who made you smile in a way Viktor couldn’t remember seeing for a long time.

From afar, Viktor watched, his heart breaking as he saw how the man made you laugh, how he looked at you with admiration. In that moment, he understood something he had always feared: you deserved someone better than him, someone who could be completely with you without the chains of science and illness.

He decided to leave, convinced that intervening would only cause you more pain. He didn’t know that as he walked away, you were watching him from afar, with a broken heart, wishing he had fought for you, even just a little more.

Jinx

Days passed after that heartbreaking farewell. The memories piled up in your mind, like broken pieces of a puzzle you could never put back together. Jinx's absence was a crushing weight, leaving you breathless, powerless. Her laughter, her mischief, her uncontrollable chaos... all had disappeared, and in their place, only an unbearable void remained.

One afternoon, as the rain furiously pounded against the windows and the sky was draped in gray, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew exactly where to find her. On somber days, Jinx always sought refuge at the cliff, a place where the world seemed to end and the abyss opened before her like an invitation.

You ran through the rain, feeling each drop like needles on your skin, every step filled with a desperation that was suffocating you. When you reached the cliff, your heart stopped. Jinx wasn’t sitting, as she usually did, lost in her thoughts. She was standing, at the edge of the abyss, her slender figure barely visible in the mist.

But before you could take another step, she jumped.

The scream that tore from your throat was heart-wrenching, an echo lost in the wind. You ran to the edge, but what you saw below froze your blood. Jinx lay on the rocks, her body shattered by the fall, motionless, lifeless. The sight left you petrified, unable to move, unable to breathe.

The days that followed were torment. Guilt consumed you. What if you had arrived earlier? What if you had said something different? What if you had hugged her tighter? The questions haunted you, whispering in your ear that it was all your fault, that you hadn’t done enough to save her.

You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You just returned to that cliff over and over again, hoping to find answers in the void Jinx had left. But all you found was more silence, more loneliness.

One night, when the moon barely peeked through the clouds, the weight became unbearable. You couldn’t go on without her. You decided it was time to join Jinx, to follow her steps into the abyss. You walked to the edge, feeling the cold wind on your skin, and looked down at the place where your love had met its end.

Then, a vision stopped you. Jinx appeared before you, but not like the last time. She was smiling, her gaze sweet and mischievous, like when she used to laugh at your jokes or drag you into her chaotic adventures. "Don't be sad, sugar," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

Her words, though you knew they were just a hallucination, filled you with a strange comfort. You smiled, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm going to be with you," you promised her. And without thinking further, you leapt into the abyss, letting the darkness take you, driven by the desire to be with Jinx once more.

Upon impact, everything became silence. But in that silence, there was something more. A whisper, an echo of eternal love.

In every universe, in every possible existence, you two would always be together. Even in death, even in the void. Because your love was that strong, that eternal.

Vi had spent two years engulfed in a darkness she couldn’t escape. After you left her, everything became a whirlwind of underground fights and empty bottles. Each punch she took, each night spent alone in the darkest corners of Zaun, made her think of you, of what she had lost. In her mind, she was always sure you would come back for her, that your love for her would be strong enough to forgive her. But days turned into weeks, then into months, and eventually, years. And you never came back.

One day, a job brought her to Piltover. A corrupt politician had paid her to "teach a lesson" to someone who owed him money. The money was enough for Vi to accept without asking questions. She was walking through the gleaming streets of the city when her body collided with someone else's.

“Sorry,” she said automatically, but when she looked up, she was left breathless. It was you. More radiant than ever, with a presence that seemed to light up even the cold stone of Piltover. Vi couldn’t help herself, she hugged you tightly as if her life depended on it. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into your hair. But her world stopped when she didn’t feel your arms returning the embrace. Instead, your body was stiff, distant.

You gently pulled away, but your gaze was like a dagger. “What’s wrong?” Vi asked, her voice trembling with confusion and the pain now flooding her. “Why are you treating me like this?”

Your expression hardened, and your words were cold, sharp as steel. “Do you really expect me to welcome you with open arms after what you did? After what you said?” Your eyes burned with a fire Vi didn’t recognize, a fire from someone who had suffered and changed. “You left me, Violet. You said things that broke me. And now, after two years, you expect me to greet you like nothing happened?”

Vi tried to respond, but the words died in her throat. There weren’t enough excuses to explain what she had done.

You continued, not giving her a moment to breathe. “Things changed when you left, Violet.” You raised your hand, showing a ring that gleamed under the sunlight. “My parents married me off to someone from the Council. At first, I thought it would be the end of the world, that I’d never get over it. But now… now I’m happy.” You paused, letting your words sink into Vi like a slow-acting poison. “I have a family. I have stability. And I’m happy. With you, Violet, I would never have had that.”

Vi looked at you, unsure of what to do, what to say. In her mind, you were still the person who loved her, but now, standing before her, you had transformed into someone completely different.

At that moment, a man approached. Tall, in his thirties, with a well-groomed beard, and in his arms, a small child with a smile Vi instantly recognized as yours. The man kissed you on the cheek and then handed you the child. Your face lit up with love as you held him.

“Sweetheart, did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked, glancing at Vi with curiosity. “Is she a friend of yours?”

Vi felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You looked back at her, but now, your eyes were just cold reflections of the past. “No,” you said with a tone that cut Vi to the core. “Just someone I used to know.”

Without another word, you turned away, the man beside you, the child in your arms, and the three of you walked off, a perfect picture of the happiness Vi had always dreamed of but could never achieve.

Vi stood there, motionless, in the middle of the street, as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Her entire world crumbled in that instant. Everything she had believed, everything she had hoped for, was gone. And now she knew she would live with regret for the rest of her life.

Caitlyn

The trial was a brutal display of coldness. You stood there, in the center, surrounded by the faces of Piltover who had once respected you. But now, you were nothing more than a traitor to them. Your hands were cuffed behind your back, your gaze fixed on Caitlyn, waiting... begging for her to say something, to defend you, to plead on your behalf. But she remained silent, rigid, her expression unyielding. The façade of the perfect enforcer intact, as you crumbled.

As you left the court, the cold air hit you harder than the judges' words. Caitlyn approached the guards, requesting to personally escort you to the edge of exile. Your eyes met hers, seeking answers, some sign that there was still something between you.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice breaking.

Caitlyn looked at you, her face colder than ever. "I did what I had to do," she said with a hardness that made you shiver. "If you had done the same, you wouldn't be in this situation."

There were no more words. No goodbyes. Just a chasm that opened between you, killing everything that had ever existed.

A year later, Piltover was burning in chaos. Zaun's gangsters had unleashed a revolt, and Caitlyn, always the leader, was on the front lines. The battle roared around her, but she didn't see the attacker coming until it was too late. The blade of a knife gleamed in the air, aimed at her, until a precise shot stopped the assailant.

Caitlyn turned, her rifle pointed at her supposed savior. "Back off," she ordered firmly, though her heart was racing.

The figure in front of her removed the owl mask, revealing a face that took her breath away.

"You're still an exceptional shooter, Cait," you said with a sad smile, your voice laden with painful nostalgia.

The chaos had ceased, the silence weighed between you. Caitlyn didn't understand how everything had ended so quickly, how her men had been immobilized. Her eyes filled with questions, and you, with a flash of understanding, gave her the answer before she could formulate it.

"It was us."

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Us?"

You laughed, a sound that carried both sadness and resignation. "I'm part of the Firelights. We heard about the revolt and came to the rescue. We don't want more trouble between Piltover and Zaun, so we stopped it to avoid reprisals."

Caitlyn's eyes widened, recognizing the rebel group that had caused so many headaches for the Enforcers.

"They took me in when I was exiled to Zaun," you continued with a touch of sadness. "They're my family now."

Caitlyn stepped forward, regret etching her face. "I... I missed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I regret not defending you."

But before she could say more, a figure riding a hoverboard approached. Wearing a mask similar to yours, his dark skin and white hair gave him away: Ekko, the leader of the Firelights.

"All clear. Let's go, babe," he said, extending a hand to you. Then, he cast a sarcastic glance at Caitlyn. "Looks like the Enforcers don't know how to do their job anymore."

Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but you playfully smacked Ekko on the head. "Don't be cheeky," you chided, but the boy just smiled and kissed you tenderly.

Caitlyn froze, watching the scene with disbelief and pain. Seeing the love of her life with someone else was an agony she wasn't prepared to face.

You climbed onto the board with Ekko, but before leaving, you turned to Caitlyn. "I hope you can find happiness someday, Cait," you said softly, your words a reminder that sometimes justice isn't enough to fill the void in the soul.

And with that, you vanished into the air, laughing with Ekko, leaving Caitlyn alone, shattered. She stood there, staring at the spot where you'd disappeared, the regret devouring her inside. But she didn't allow herself to feel more. She had a mess to clean up and a report to deliver. There was no room for pain now, and that would always be her greatest flaw.

Jayce

It had been five months since the last time you saw Jayce, five months since that painful goodbye that had left your heart in pieces. But you didn't allow yourself to stay in that state. You channeled your pain into ambition, into a fierce determination to prove your worth beyond being "Jayce Talis' partner." You joined the world of politics, and against all odds, you managed to gain acceptance into the Council of Piltover.

The news of your rise had spread to every corner of the city, but Jayce, absorbed in his work with Hextech technology and his duties as a Council member, hadn't noticed your progress until that day.

The first Council meeting with your presence was a revelation. All the members praised you, impressed by your intellect and the innovative plans you had proposed for the city. But Jayce heard none of that. His attention was completely captured by you.

You looked different. Your hair, which you used to wear long and dark, was now short and dyed a vibrant coral red. The clothes you wore were more revealing, showing a confidence in yourself he had never seen before. It was as if you were a completely new person, someone who no longer depended on anyone's shadow.

When the meeting ended, Jayce approached you with his characteristic smile, the one that used to melt your heart. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said with a mix of surprise and admiration. "It seems a lot has changed."

You returned his smile, but there was a touch of disdain in your eyes. "Yes, many things changed in my life when you left, Jayce. Everything got better," you said firmly. "I focused on my career and made a name for myself in Piltover for my skills and intelligence. I'm no longer recognized as Jayce Talis' partner. I'm no longer the pretty doll you used to take to those fancy parties."

Jayce frowned, his expression turning serious. "I never treated you like an object," he replied defensively. "That was always a misunderstanding. I just took care of you and gave you everything you wanted."

You shook your head slowly, your gaze steady on his. "No, Jayce. You clipped my wings. You didn’t let me be who I really am. And I'm so happy you left me because now I’m enjoying life, and I love who I am."

Jayce opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him. "There's talk that you have a relationship with Mel Medarda."

The surprise on his face was evident, but he quickly denied it, his tone defensive. "Of course not. We're just partners."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "More like master and slave. It’s pathetic to see how you let yourself be influenced and manipulated by someone else. The Jayce I knew, the one I once loved, would never have allowed that."

Jayce barely heard the reproach. His attention was caught by your words. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked, his voice hurt and low.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his with brutal sincerity. "No, Jayce. I don’t. I’ve moved on from you."

Jayce was left speechless, the emotional blow visible on his face. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy for you to forget him, especially when he hadn’t forgotten you.

Before you left, you stepped a little closer, your voice soft but firm. "And you know what the best part is, Jayce? I didn’t need to hook up with anyone else to do it. I got over you when I learned to focus on myself and my needs. You should do the same."

Without waiting for a response, you turned around and walked away, leaving Jayce there, paralyzed by the weight of your words. It was as if you had slapped him, leaving him breathless, not knowing how to recover from that loss. Because you would be a loss that would hurt him for the rest of his life.

Ekko

Months have passed since that last conversation that ended your relationship. Since then, Zaun has changed, and so have you. You've learned to live without Ekko, though the void he left still hurts. Fate, however, seems determined to cross your paths again. And it is on a rainy night, in an alley you used to walk together, that you meet once more.

Ekko is there, under the dim light of a streetlamp, his silhouette wet from the rain but heavier with guilt. He sees you approach, and something inside him breaks. Time hasn't healed his wounds, only made them deeper.

"I didn’t think I’d see you here again," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible beneath the sound of the rain.

Your heart races at the sight of him, but you stay firm. "I didn’t think I’d see you again either."

Ekko's eyes scan you, searching for something to give him strength to speak. "How have you been?" he asks, knowing that any answer will be insufficient for the pain he caused.

"I managed," you reply coldly. "And you? Doesn’t Zaun need you anymore?"

Ekko lowers his gaze, ashamed. "Zaun will always need me, but... I've been thinking a lot about us. About what I did, about what I said."

"And have you reached any conclusions?" you ask, keeping your tone distant.

"That I was wrong," he admits, his voice breaking. "That each day without you weighs more on me. That I let you go out of fear, out of responsibility... but I never stopped loving you."

His confession hits you, but it’s not enough to erase the pain. "Ekko, you made your choice. You chose Zaun over us."

"I know," he says, taking a step closer but not daring to move further. "And I regret it. If I could go back, I would. But I can’t. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that I miss you... that every day I regret more what I lost."

Silence takes over the moment. The rain continues to fall, cold and relentless, like the fate you both share. You look at Ekko, and for a moment, the love you still feel battles against the resentment.

"Ekko, love isn’t enough when it becomes a burden. I can’t go back to that, I can’t be your second place again," you say, trying to maintain your composure.

"I know," he replies, his voice barely a whisper. "But I wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t fix it, even if I can’t win you back, you’ll always be a part of me."

"And you of me," you admit, finally letting the tears you’ve held back fall. "But it’s too late, Ekko. Too late for us."

Reality sets in, and both of you know it. Without words, you look at each other one last time, each trying to engrave that moment in memory. Finally, you turn away, leaving Ekko alone, with the rain as his only company.

As you walk away, something inside you stops you, as if there are still words left to say. You turn slowly, facing Ekko once more, with the rain falling between you like a curtain of memories and pain.

"Do you remember what you told me the last time we talked?" you ask, your voice trembling but firm. "You said that sometimes there are battles not worth fighting because you know you’ll never win them."

Ekko nods, the weight of his own words reflected in his tired eyes. "Yes, I remember. And I regret saying it."

"Don’t regret it," you say, a bitter smile forming on your lips. "Because you were right. This... us... we were one of those battles. I fought for you, for us, but in the end, we couldn’t win. We couldn’t be what we needed for each other."

Ekko closes his eyes, the pain in his chest intensifying. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted you to lose faith in us."

"Faith wasn’t enough," you reply, your words cutting like a knife. "Not when the battle was lost from the start."

Silence takes over once more, each word a reminder of what was and will never be. Finally, you step back, moving away from Ekko and everything he represents.

"Goodbye, Ekko," you whisper, letting the rain wash away the last tears falling down your cheeks.

Ekko watches you leave, knowing those words will be the last you share. And as you disappear into the distance, his own regret consumes him, leaving him alone with the weight of a battle he should never have abandoned.

Silco

The lights flickered weakly in the brothel of the Undercity, as voices mingled with the clamor of incessant activity. Silco moved through the shadows, his presence as imposing as ever, closing a deal with one of his associates. Everything was going according to plan until his gaze stopped in a dark corner, and he saw you.

You were there, your makeup smeared, and your provocative clothing accentuating the marks of injuries that covered your skin. Silco felt a dry blow in his chest, a combination of anger and suffocating guilt. He couldn’t help but approach you, his hand gripping your arm firmly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh voice, each word laden with tension he couldn’t hide.

You looked up, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and latent hatred, but a bitter smile formed on your lips. "I'm exactly where I should be, Silco. I should never have left this place in the first place."

Silco narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening even more. "Don’t give me evasions. I want the truth."

You sighed deeply, letting the facade fall. Your eyes locked onto his, this time without a trace of the smile. "You want the truth? Very well." Your voice was a whisper laced with pain. "When you decided to abandon me, many started hunting me. I survived some attacks, others I didn’t." Slowly, you brushed your hair aside, revealing the patch over your left eye. "They tore it out. And, like everything in this damn place, they sold it to the highest bidder. Some found it exciting to have the eye of Silco's former 'bitch.'"

The rawness of your words left him immobile. The trauma soaked every syllable, and the guilt Silco felt grew like an oppressive shadow. "I had no one to protect me, no place to go. This brothel was my last refuge. So here I am, back in the only place I should never have left. And surprisingly, I'm doing well. You’d be surprised at what they're willing to pay for an encounter with what once belonged to you."

Silco couldn’t bear the self-degradation in your voice. "I’m going to get you out of here," he said firmly. "I’ll pay whatever it takes and bring you back home."

He leaned in to hug you, but you pushed him away with a scornful gesture. "What’s the matter, Silco? Tired of your new acquisition already? Miss having me under your control, like your personal trophy?" Your voice was lethal poison. "Keep your promises. I’m not going back with you. You taught me that love is an illusion, a mirage that only serves to mask hatred and danger. And sadly, I’m surrounded by both."

Silco swallowed, his facade beginning to crack. "Please," he insisted, his voice tinged with an unusual tremor. "Let me fix this. Let me help you."

But you had already walked away, heading toward an exotic-looking man waiting for you in a corner. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to work."

Without giving him another glance, you left, leaving Silco alone, trapped in a whirlwind of regret and pain. In his attempt to protect you, it was he who had condemned you to this life, and now the weight of his decisions crushed him, plunging him into a darkness even he could not master.

Mel

It was an ordinary day when, upon opening your front door, you found Mel standing there, her eyes red from crying, her face filled with a despair so profound it moved you. Her posture, hunched and fragile, spoke more than any words could. Before you could say anything, she threw herself at you, seeking comfort as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant.

Words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, like a torrent of repressed emotions finally finding an outlet. "I’ve done it... I’ve done everything wrong... I don’t want to lose you. I can’t... please, don’t leave me. I need us to be together again. I can’t live with this lie. I love you, I love you, I’m begging you."

You held her in your arms, feeling her trembling body against yours, a refuge against the internal storm consuming her. You clung to her, hoping that all that had been broken between you could be repaired, but then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the stillness of that moment.

"Sorry to interrupt," said a familiar female voice, with a tone that shook you. Caitlyn Kiramman appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, wearing a white shirt, almost translucent, that Mel recognized instantly. A shiver ran through her as she saw that the shirt belonged to you. Caitlyn smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but serene. "I’ll wait for you in the room," she said calmly before retreating into the house.

Mel, paralyzed, looked at you in disbelief, her anger beginning to awaken. "Seriously?" Her voice broke with disdain, but there was a contained fury in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. "Caitlyn Kiramman? You couldn’t find a better replacement for me? Seriously?"

You stared at her for a moment before responding with a calmness that only masked the truth behind your words. "No, Mel, I’m not looking for replacements. Caitlyn isn’t here to fill any voids; she’s here for a good time. And let me tell you, she’s done an excellent job at that."

Mel clenched her fists, her face turning red with rage, frustration taking over her. "How could you? Did you cheat on me? With her? After everything we’ve been through?" Her words were sharp, like knives, and her pain became more evident with each passing second.

You remained serene, though something inside you was breaking. "What did you want me to do, Mel? Sit in a corner, crying in a bubble of self-pity, like you probably did all this time? No, Mel, I couldn’t just sit and wait for something to change. Life is too short to keep waiting for the impossible."

Mel’s words came out as a sigh of disappointment. "I’m so disappointed in you," she said, her voice trembling from the impact of your words.

You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on your chest. "What we were living wasn’t real, Mel. It wasn’t enough for you, and it wasn’t enough for me either. You’ve been living in your mother’s shadow this whole time, looking for something you’ll never find. I can’t keep waiting for you to understand that. You got stuck in your world, and in the meantime, I moved on. I’m not going to apologize for that."

Mel, in tears, tried to get closer, a desperate attempt to capture what was already gone. She tried to kiss you, but you stopped her with unyielding firmness. "Mel," you said with a clear, firm voice. "Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself."

She fell to her knees, her face overflowing with pain. "I beg you... please, come back to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life. I need you, I can’t live without you." Her sobs were heart-wrenching, like a child lost in a cruel world.

You looked at her for a long moment, your heart heavy, but the words that came from your lips were inevitable. "And why didn’t you take care of me, Mel? Why did you let me go so easily? If you really loved me, why did you abandon me? Why did you let me face all of this alone?"

Mel didn’t know what to say. She stayed there, her mouth open, unable to offer any justification. She only murmured one last "I love you" in an almost inaudible whisper.

You sighed deeply, the weight of reality crushing you, and you gently lifted her from the ground, guiding her to the door. "Goodbye, Mel. I hope you can sort things out with your mother. I can’t keep being part of this battle."

The door closed with a dull thud, and it wasn’t just the door to your house that was closing, but also the door to your heart. There was nothing more to do. It was time to let go.

Sevika

The night was shrouded in a dense mist, and the bar buzzed with a mix of laughter, muffled conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled with liquid oblivion. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of tobacco, spilled alcohol, and sweat—a temporary refuge for broken souls. Sevika pushed the bar door open, stumbling slightly, her unsteady steps reflecting the state of her soul. Her dark, glassy eyes scanned the place with a mix of desperation and anxiety, seeking to drown the loneliness that pursued her like a relentless shadow.

When her eyes landed on the bar, her heart stopped for a moment that seemed eternal. There you were, behind the counter, moving with the professional grace of someone who had learned to hide pain behind a mask of indifference. Sevika felt the ground beneath her feet grow unstable, as if the earth itself was rebelling against her presence. She approached slowly, as if each step brought her closer to an abyss she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.

When she reached the bar, she leaned on the counter with both hands, leaning toward you. Your gaze was a mix of surprise and something colder, something that made her shiver more than any strong drink.

"What do you want to drink?" you asked in a professional, restrained voice, your eyes barely shifting in her direction.

Sevika looked at you, desperately searching for any trace of the warmth you used to have. "I’ve missed you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper before a knot in her throat broke it. "I’m sorry... God, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us."

She took your hands with unusual clumsiness, kissing them repeatedly as her words fell like broken laments. "I’ve been alone, so alone that I looked for others to forget you, but it didn’t work. No one can make me forget you. Please, give me another chance."

You sighed, and with a calculated gesture, called another colleague to replace you, leading her outside to the back alley. You lit a cigarette calmly, offering her one that she accepted in silence. Both of you smoked, the smoke forming an almost tangible barrier between you.

The silence was finally broken by a question that escaped as a rough whisper from her lips: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

You finished smoking, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot before facing her directly. "What do you want me to say, Sevika?" Your voice was low, but each word was a dart piercing Sevika's chest.

She frowned, surprised by the coldness in your tone. "I don’t know, something. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a fool."

"Why do you feel like a fool?" you asked, crossing your arms, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Sevika gritted her teeth, her fury beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Because I confessed my feelings to you, told you everything I went through, and it seems like you don’t give a damn."

You nodded, as if slowly processing her words before responding with icy calm. "And did you care when you left me? Did you think about how your decision would affect me? Did you think about anyone other than yourself?"

Her words caught in her throat, and for the first time, Sevika didn’t know what to say. Your smile was bitter, triumphant. "Of course not. You’re a selfish person, Sevika. You walked in here by chance, and upon seeing me, suddenly you miss me and want everything back. Well, I’m not buying that crap."

"It’s not like that," she denied desperately. "I miss you, really. I care about you."

Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You made your decision, and you have no right to ask me for anything after what you did to me."

Sevika tried to interrupt, but you cut her off sharply. "My break is over. Don’t drink anymore tonight. You’re talking nonsense." And with that, you went back inside, leaving her there, alone in the darkness.

Sevika stayed in the alley, staring at the door that closed behind you, while rage and sadness fused into a silent scream. She punched the wall hard, letting the physical pain try to drown out the torment she felt inside. But deep down, she knew that punch wasn’t enough to erase what she had lost, nor to heal what she had destroyed.

443 notes · View notes

pupyuj · 10 months ago

Text

→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...

word count: 10.6k

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.

content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.

requested? : kind of!

a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe

p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—

previous: magic words.

jang wonyoung was late.

to class.

which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to—

“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”

you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!

ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.

everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!

“come on, baby. give me a show.”

you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?

a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.

oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.

(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.

no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.

but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)

thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.

the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.

you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.

you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.

“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.

“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”

“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.

you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.

“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.

“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.

“w-what?!”

“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”

“oh, right!”

you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”

jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.

“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.

“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.

“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.

“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.

gosh, this school was a nightmare.

nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.

but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?

you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.

you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.

wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!

it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.

things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.

so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.

the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?

you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.

when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…

“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”

ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!

“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.

“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.

“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”

you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.

“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.

the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.

the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.

it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.

regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.

“wonyoung…”

the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.

you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.

“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.

“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.

it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.

“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.

“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.

“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone.

“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”

“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”

“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.

all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.

“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.

given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”

the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.

“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.

“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.

you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…

“okay.”

wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.

“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.

“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you.

oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.

getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?

it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.

you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.

“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”

soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.

“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.

“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)

you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.

“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.

“no.”

surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.

just like last time.

“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.

“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”

and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.

god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.

“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”

fuck, that was gonna do you in.

too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.

“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.

the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.

but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!

you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.

“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.

you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.

immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”

wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.

“well, consent is important—”

“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.

leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.

your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take everything i’m giving to you today.”

scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.

only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.

wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.

“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”

wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”

wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…

you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.

she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.

why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!

“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.

it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.

“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”

wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.

“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.

wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.

“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”

you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.

it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.

“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.

you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?

(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)

“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.

wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.

she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.

so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.

“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.

wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!

“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.

much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver.

finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.

you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion.

you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?

“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does.

“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”

“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited.

you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.

“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.

when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.

“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.

“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.

“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.

“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!

although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.

for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.

there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.

you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.

“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.

“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.

“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”

“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!

“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.

“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”

inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.

but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.

“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.

“i knew it!”

once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.

“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.

because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!

“is that…”

wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.

“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes.

the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.

“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”

wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”

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dustofthedailylife · 11 months ago

Text

You were not supposed to hear that...yet

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Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh.

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.”

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness.

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together.

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance.

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you.

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin alhaitham #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin brainrot #genshin headcanons #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 gi

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destinyisastar · 4 months ago

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HII are ur requests open? I love ur writing style sm that I actually wanted to requesthswiwjwo it's my first time,, Can I request a platonic Alastor x toddler!daughter where she was his biological daughter when he was alive but she died first due to being murdered(due to some enemies of alastor that were jealous of him)? And like, after many decades, he and Charlie visits heaven right?? What if he spots his little girl, but she doesn't recognize him because of his demon form ? 🥹

Dearly Departed

Thank you for my third ever request!!! I'm sorry this took a while the election lowkey made me have a breakdown. I'm very happy with how this turned out!

Alastor x Toddler Daughter Reader (PLATONIC!!!)

Summary: A look into the past life with Alastor and his beloved little girl that he holds most dear. However, when her life is taken far too soon, Alastor is given the chance to see her once more.

Warning!!: child death

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

Another day has just begun, the sun was shining its morning hue, birds were flapping their wings as they gather breakfast for their chicks, quite like how Alastor was doing right now.

The sizzling of the bacon is music to his ears as he looks towards the stairs. “Sweetheart?!” Alastor yells, “Come down and get your breakfast!” He hears the pitter patter of feet running on the floorboards. “Don’t run in the house my dear!” He calls once more.

Eventually you make it down the stairs, “Sorry papa!” You hold your hair ribbon in your hand as Alastor looks down at you with your hair in disarray.

“What on earth have you done to your hair!?” He turns the knob off the stove and bends down to your level, “Now, now this won’t do!” Alastor shakes his head, “Come along now darling.” He picks you up and goes back to your room upstairs.

Alastor sets you down on your chair by the vanity, grabbing your brush and tending to your hair.

“This papa! I want this on my hair!” You show him your red hair ribbon, “Please!!”.

“I’ll see what I can do!”

You giggle as he kisses your cheek.

“Almost done now cher!” Alastor puts the final touch on your hair by placing the ribbon he recently bought you. Lately all you been doing is requesting that he put that ribbon on you. “I love, love, love this ribbon papa! I want to wear it forever and ever!” you had said to him when he showed you.

Alastor smooths down your hair one final time, “There you are! All done! Can’t having you look all messy now, can we?” He laughs.

“Thank you, papa!” You jump off the chair and race down the stairs.

“No, no my dear what have I said about running in the house? You could fall!”

“Whoops sorry papa!” You stand at the end of the stairs, “I’m just happy today!” Alastor picks you up again.

“And why is that my dear?” He walks towards the dining table and places you in your seat.

“My teacher says we get to go on a trip today!” Alastor finishes up the meal he was cooking, for you, two pancakes with a slice of bacon and side of scrambled eggs for him… just a cup of coffee.

“Really now, why was I not made aware of this?” He places the plate in front of you.

You shovel some of the eggs into your mouth, “I did-“

“Don’t talk with your mouth full darling.” He hands you a napkin as you drink your water.

“I did tell you papa! And you signed the papers on Tuesday remember!?”

Ah yes, he does remember signing something for you. “Where is your teacher taking you again my child?”

You take the slice of bacon in you hand, “She said that we are going to be looking at the.. the flowers and rocks for our science class in forest where that big”, You take a bite out of the bacon, “bridge is.”

“My that sounds like it will be a lovely trip.”

“Mhmmm!” You finish up your meal, “Thank you for the food papa!”

Your books were already ready at the door by the table since Alastor knows you might forget them, “Wash your hands my dear!”

“Okay!”

Alastor laughs slightly as he sees you scurry off to the sink while holding your books in his hands.

“All done papa!” You reach for his hand.

“Are you sure you have everything you need my dear?”

“Mhmm! Gots everything!” You tell him while jumping slightly on your tip toes.

Alastor takes your hand as you both walk to his vehicle, placing you in your seat then taking his.

“Now my dear, when you get to that forest, I want you to stay by your teachers side no matter what.” Alastor looks at you in rearview mirror. “Don’t you go anywhere without telling anyone.”

“I won’t!” You say while kicking your feet.

Alastor parks the car by the school, steps out and picking you up placing you in his arms.

“Look, look there’s my teacher! Oh! Look papa, there’s Jamie! Hi Jamie!!” You wave your hand to your friend.

“Yes, yes I do see them my dear.” You start to wiggle in his arms. “But you do remember what we talked about in the car, hmmmm?”

“Yes I remember papa.. I will stay by the teacher and….. I’ll…”

“You will tell someone where you are going.”

“Yes! I’ll tell someone where I am going!”

“Good girl.” He places you down in front of the school doors.” I love you my darling.” He kisses your forehead.

“Love you too papa!!” You hug him one final time, “Bye papa!” You wave him goodbye as you catch up with your friends.

“Goodbye my darling! I’ll be here to pick you up as soon as school is out!

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

As Alastor drives away he fails to notice two men watching him closely or more importantly watching his daughter.

“That’s him, right?” asks the one with blonde hair.

The one next to him breaths out smoke, “Yeah that’s the fucker.”

“Shouldn’t we follow him?”

“No.” The man taps his cigar on the window.

“Why the hell not?”

“We are going after his brat.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill him instead?” The tattered blonde man asks, sounding a bit worried.

“Nah, that fucker has the audacity to ruin our business, our fucking fun and for what? That shitty radio host needs to pay.”

“But that’s a kid..”

The smoker looks at him, “Are you a pussy Johnny? Too afraid to kill a fucking kid?”

“I-I’m not.”

“Then man the fuck up. The boss wants this done.”

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

“Okay children! Remember stay close to me and pay close attention!” Mrs. Amber, your teacher, says. “Today will be picking up a few rocks to bring back to our class for our geology work. You may pick a few by the lake but don’t go into the water. As for the flowers you may gather some of every color.” Mrs. Amber passes some plastic bags, “You can put the rocks you find into the bag.”

“Okay everyone you may gather your rocks and flowers now! Just stay where I can see you and come back here when I call you!”

“Yes ma’am!” a chorus of children say.

You begin your pick of the rocks, picking out the most shiny, exotic ones. “Oooo this one can be for papa.” You say as you pick out a red one, placing it in the bag. You manage to gather a total of nine rocks. “Now for flowers!” You see your classmates’ carrying loads of flowers.

You turn your head to see if there are any flowers left on the ground as soon as your about to reach for one a girl, Vicky Valentine, snatches it away from you.

“Hey! I was going to grab that one!”

“HA well you snooze you lose Y/n!” She sneers at you and walks away.

You huff and look around once more and there you spot it, in the darker part of the forest there with its orange color reminding you of a sunset. “So pretty…” But the flower is nowhere near where your teacher can see you. “It’ll just be a second.” You promise yourself. “I’ll grab it and go…”

“Tell someone where you’re going darling…” You hear your papa’s voice in your head.

“Hmmmmmm…. I’ll only be a second!” you tell yourself as you walk over to the flower.

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

“Get ready Johnny… and stop your fucking shaking.”

The forest seemed to get darker, almost as if it was closing in on the little girl.

She picked up the flower.

“NOW!”

Johnny grabbed the girl as she screamed.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” The smoker smacks the girl in her face. “Hurry up!”

The girl begins to punch but they mean nothing. “SHUT HER UP DAMNIT!” The orange flower falls.

Johnny grabs the girl by her neck pushing her to the ground, tightening his grip. She tries to push him away, scratching his face.

He feels it before he hears it. The snap. The crack. The lifeless look in the girl’s eyes.

He never bothered to learn the girl’s name.

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

“WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER!? You were supposed to be watching her!!”

“I know Mr. Hartfelt I’m sorry b-but once we heard the scream I g-gathered all the children away I-I’m so s-sorry!” Mrs. Amber cries out.

“Mr. Hartfelt please calm down!” The principle tries to tell him.

“NO! My daughter isn’t here… SO DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” He starts to breathe heavily. Alastor runs back to his car, passing all the parents holding their children, driving over the speed limit heading to the forest where they left you, how… how dare they leave you behind.

He feels the tears going down his face but quickly wipes them away.

Alastor swerves as he makes it to the trail of the darkening forest. He races out of the car calling out your name.

“Where are you?!”

“Darling! Please answer me!”

“Y/N?!”

There in the shadow of darkness lays a body.

He treads there carefully almost as if his body was moving on its own.

An orange flower lays near your hand, a bag of rocks in your other, your eyes are shot open. Fear. There is, no, there was fear in your eyes.

His legs sink down to the ground, almost consuming him.

“Darling….?” His hands caress your face. “No…no… no” Alastor pulls your body to his, wrapping his arms around you, cradling the body of his beloved daughter, rocking her as if she still were a baby. “My daughter….” Tears began to fall down to your face.

Your life taken too soon, his darling daughter, his little girl, the light to his darkness was now gone forever.

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

PRESENT DAY

“Why did we have to bring Alastor with us?”

Vaggie walks beside Charlie as they begin their tread towards heaven’s gates.

“Well, he’s a big part of the reason why we have the hotel in the first place! And I believe he is here for… moral support!”

Alastor pats Vaggie’s head “Easy now! It’s not like I’m here for anyone’s souls! Ha-ha!!” Vaggie immediately pulls his hand away from here and sneers.

“You better not cause any trouble here!”

“Vaggie calm down please!”

“I am simply here for Charlie’s sake! Besides I might not ever get to see heaven so I might as well indulge myself for the time begin! Ha-ha”

As Saint Peter begins to search for Charlie’s name Alastor’s mind begins to wander.

Truthfully Alastor could care less about supporting the princess at this very moment. While the hotel might be his little passion project for now, he came here for one reason only. His daughter. The memory of his little girl flashes in his mind. Always happy. Always so lively. He wonders if he’ll get to see her here today. Of course, there’s no doubt in his mind that his daughter is in heaven. There would have been no reason for her to be in hell. But he still checked anyways. In the end, however he was glad he didn’t find her. She deserves to be in heaven, but she should have never been taken from him far too soon.

The little angel finally opens the gates alongside two others who appeared to be seraphims. Everything truly is brighter here as they say.

While the little seraphim speaks to Charlie, Alastor scans around the area with a stretched grin…… and there she was.

There.

Right there was a little girl with a red ribbon tied to her hair. His little girl, Y/n…

He watches as she laughs with the other small angels as they play in the grassy area surrounded by different colored flowers.

Alastor walks over to them carefully….why do his legs feel shaky? He hears Vaggie call out to him but doesn’t bother turning around.

“Hello there! My, my you seem to be having quite the afternoon here!” He tells the little angels with a wide grin. The two next to you fly off but you stay there staring at him with a smile.

“Yes! I’m having fun!!”

“How delightful my child!” He says as he pats your head.

You giggle, “Do you want one mister?” you say handing him a bright orange flower.

Mister? Do you not recognize him? “Darling… its me.”

You tilt your head, “Huh? I don’t think I know you mister….” You look at his face and set your sights on the top of his head or rather his ears. “Hey! You’re just like me!” you say while pointing at his ears and touching yours.

Alastor’s smiles softens, “I do believe we are similar….would you like to feel them darling?”

“Yes! Yes! Please!!” You jump up from your spot on the ground, excitement running through your body.

Alastor chuckles, “Alright then,” he picks you up and you immediately touch his ears.

“There sooo fluffly!!” you giggle once more.

Alastor hums and brings you closer to him, wanting to give you a hug…. If you do not recognize him… then this what he’ll settle for….

He hears his name called once more and gives a huff.

“Alastor! What are you doing?! Put that angel down and get over here!! Now!!” Vaggie yells, startling the other angels passing by.

Charlie pats her lovers’ shoulder and walks to Alastor.

“Alastor we should be heading to our rest area now!” Charlie grins slightly, hoping not to panic the little angel that Alastor is holding.

Your hands come to a stop, “You… have the same name as my papa…”

Charlie’s eyes widen.

Alastor holds you tighter, “I suppose I do…” his radio voice turned off.

“I miss him a lot… I hope he’s not mad at me for not following his rules…” You begin to sniffle.

“He’s not mad at you…. he could never be mad at you.” He feels his legs collapse to the ground.

“I don’t know where he is…..” You sob holding on to Alastor.

“He’s right here… I’m right here…”

You look up at the deer man in front of you, tilting your head… “Papa?”

Alastor closes his eyes for a second then reopens them to look down at you, you with your bright red ribbon, with your tearful gaze.

“Y/n… yes its me.”

“Papa!!” You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, sobbing. “I’m sorry…. so s-s-sorry! I didn’t mean t-to leave I s-swear… I’m sorry!!”

He pulls you closer, “Don’t be sorry don’t ever be sorry.”

Charlie watches from behind, hands wiping her tears away as Vaggie stands in shock.

He knows that he may never see you again after today… but just knowing that your safe and nothing bad can every happen to you is all that he needs to hear. No matter how much he wants you to stay with him. He knows that this moment is only a moment. He’ll have to go back down to hell… he’ll have to be separated from you once more. Maybe he’ll change his mind about redemption, but that of course will not work on him. So for this moment and this moment only will he hold his daughter tighter than ever before and dream that he stays here with her forevermore.

•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°. *࿐•°.

I hope you liked this, almost started tearing up towards the end! Thank you so much for requesting again hopefully this is what you meant!

Requests are open !!!

Wordcount: 2609

destinyisastar 2024

#alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #alastor angst #alastor the radio demon #alastor x daughter reader #x reader #hazbin hotel child reader #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin hotel platonic #platonic

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jen-with-a-pen · 1 year ago

Text

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan.

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”

You wanted to take his finger and break it.

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.”

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!”

“No! Fuck– Get off me!”

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.

“Is that all, Sergeant?”

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.”

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

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saythenametotheworld · 5 days ago

Text

Long Story Short | n.jm (18+)

Na Jaemin—your best friend, the one person who’d always been there for you, comes to help you back to your feet again. But is it too late to finally see him for what he truly is?

Campus Confessions master list

Genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, smut Pairing: Na Jaemin x afab!reader Warnings: sloooow burn, explicit sexual content Notes: 24k words. Part 5/5 of the Campus Confessions series, but can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to long story short by Taylor Swift. 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: long story short by taylor swift, friends by ed sheeran, clean by taylor swift

The school was packed. Students and visitors crowded the halls, their chatter and laughter echoing off the walls. The international high school science fair had taken over the campus, drawing in visitors and competitors from different schools—and different countries—but you couldn’t care less about any of it.

You checked your phone for the nth time, then sighed, shifting the cold cup of iced coffee in your hands. Your hand had started to numb, and your patience was running thin as you tapped your finger on the cup. The coffee was for Jaemin, something to hold him over until you both could finally leave and get proper food. But he was taking too long.

It was his birthday, and all you wanted was to take him to your favorite pizza place after he finished whatever student council errand had him running around. He had promised he’d be quick, but it had been twenty minutes since.

Just as you were about to text him, a pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind. “BOO.”

You jolted, the coffee slipping from your grip. The lid popped off upon impact, ice and liquid splashing onto your uniform. A sharp gasp left your lips as you turned to find Jaemin grinning, completely unbothered.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, arms lifted away from your body as the cold sank into your shirt. “Jaemin!”

His hands shot up in mock surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d scare that easily.”

“You jumped me!” You gestured at your now-stained uniform. “And now I’m soaked. Great. Happy birthday to you.”

Jaemin laughed, stepping back just as you raised your hand to smack his arm. “Relax. You can just buy me a new one.”

“Go buy yourself a new one,” you retorted, shoving the half-empty cup into his hand. You huffed, marching past him toward the school gates.

He gulped the remaining contents of the cup and caught up with you, while you tugged at your damp collar, scowling. “You took forever, my hand’s numb, and now I’m freezing.”

“Don’t you have a handkerchief on you, or something?” he asked, unzipping his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“I did have one,” you muttered, standing still as he adjusted his jacket on you and zipped it up. “But some guy needed it, so I gave it to him.”

Jaemin scoffed, shaking his head. “You really shouldn’t be giving out your stuff to just anyone,” he chided, patting your shoulders. “There. You’re good to go.”

The warmth of his jacket surrounded you, chasing away your irritation. It smelled like detergent and something distinctively Jaemin, something familiar. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. Jaemin was always looking out for you and you didn’t think much of it.

Back then, you never really did.

The ceiling stared back at you, dull and lifeless, as your mind drifted aimlessly. Disconnected and meaningless thoughts swam through your mind—old conversations, half-formed ideas, fleeting memories. Until your eyes caught sight of the strip light clinging stubbornly to the edge of the ceiling, with its adhesive peeling away after years of being up there.

Jaemin had helped you put it up when you were sixteen. He’d almost fallen off the ladder, wobbling dramatically while you stood below looking unimpressed with your arms crossed. You’d given him hell about it, calling him useless for something he was doing as a favor. Your mom had scolded you after, shaking her head at how mean you were to a boy who was nice enough to help you out.

The memory made you smile, though it felt distant now. Back then, everything felt light and easy. Your only worries had been how to perfectly capture the grunge aesthetic you wanted for your bedroom.

A knock at the door cut through your musings, making your head snap in the direction of the door. You barely had time to sit up before Jaemin pushed it open, stepping inside like he owned the place.

He took one look at you and sighed dramatically. “It’s 10 a.m. Why aren’t you ready?”

“I am ready.”

He glanced at your bed, then at you—still in pajamas. “No, you’re not.”

“All my stuff’s packed,” you shot back, rising to your feet. “I just need to change and we’re good to go.”

Jaemin sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed your bags, hauling them out of your room without waiting for you to catch up. After quickly changing, you followed him outside to where his car was parked at the curb.

Your mom and sister stood by the door, sending you off with a chorus of reminders. “Don’t skip meals,” “Call when you get there,” “Behave yourself.” You nodded along to each of them, half-listening, while Jaemin loaded your things into the trunk.

Then, just like always—like second nature—

You slid into the passenger seat without thinking. You pulled the seatbelt over your shoulder, and Jaemin draped a blanket over your lap just as you reached for the console to connect your phone. A lollipop landed in your palm at the same time you tossed his glasses from the dashboard into his waiting hand.

“The silver one,” said Jaemin, nodding at the other pair of glasses on the dashboard. You took the black ones and swapped them with the silver ones.

“Thank you,” he chimed, wearing them carefully and showing them to you. “Looks better, don’t you think?”

You grimaced. “It looks the same to me.”

Jaemin deadpanned, shaking his head as he started the engine. “Why do I even bother asking someone with no taste?”

“Excuse me? How dare you?”

Four hours passed with comfortable conversation and music, your voices occasionally singing along to the songs playing through the speakers.

At some point, Jaemin reached for the volume dial, turning it down a notch. “You’re lucky we’re friends,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You raised a brow. “Oh? What did I do now?”

“You put that song in the playlist,” he said, nodding at the stereo like it had personally offended him. “We’ve been over this. It’s a crime against my ears.”

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? This is a masterpiece.”

Jaemin shot you a look of pure judgment. “It sounds like a car alarm.”

“You have no taste.”

“And you have terrible taste,” he retorted. “It’s been in all of your playlists since high school. Don’t you get sick of it?”

Scoffing, you skipped to the next song—one you knew he actually liked, though you made a show of sighing as if it physically pained you to do so. “Better?”

Jaemin grinned. “Thank you so much.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful, filled with more playful arguments about music choices, lazy singing, and the occasional comfortable silence. By the time you reached the city, your playlist had nearly looped itself, and Jaemin was humming along without even realizing it.

“You know,” you mused, unbuckling your seatbelt as he pulled up to your apartment, “for someone who ‘hates’ my music, you sure know all the words.”

Jaemin clicked his tongue, feigning annoyance. “Unfortunately, exposure to bad influences does that.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before stepping out of the car. Jaemin parked in front of your apartment building and helped you carry your bags upstairs, unloading them and complaining about how heavy they were. You only scoffed, knowing he was just being dramatic.

“You have dinner plans?” he asked once everything was inside. You shook your head. “You should text the others. Let’s all have dinner together.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you replied, slumping on your couch.

You could tell he was stalling. Dragging things out with small tasks—checking if the appliances are plugged in, rearranging the shoes by the door, checking his phone without really reading anything. But eventually, he ran out of excuses.

Jaemin stepped toward the doorway, pausing with one hand on the knob. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

His expression didn’t change, but you could tell he didn’t buy it. “There’s still a few hours before dinnertime. Don’t you wanna go out and do something?”

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you just hang out with me until later?”

“Oh, I have to take my stuff to the dorms,” he replied, sighing as if he really was considering the idea. “Are you sure you don’t wanna live with the girls? Just so you’re not alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Jaemin.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another like he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t. With one last glance, he gave a small nod and stepped out.

And then, just as the door was about to shut, his head popped back in. “Text me if you need anything.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know.”

Still, he hesitated. He paused briefly by the doorway, giving your apartment one last sweep. Then finally, finally, he walked away. The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was deafening. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Alone again.

You tilted your head back, resting on the backrest of the sofa and staring at the ceiling. It had become a habit at this point, staring at the ceiling and letting your mind wander anywhere and everywhere.

Six months had passed since the accident in Mykonos that left you with a few scars and a broken heart. Six whole months of healing and trying to reconnect with the person that you were before that summer. Seeing a therapist helped for the most part. You were able to talk about what happened, address your questions and confusions, and face the consequences of your actions. But it was useless for the emptiness that followed. The odd feeling of having a hole in your heart but not feeling any sadness or hurt about it. It was just… there.

This emptiness tends to be strong when you are alone. You hated it, but after six months of being a burden, of having people walk on eggshells around you, you couldn’t bring yourself to confide in anyone and tell them you hated being alone.

You stared at the boxes scattered across your living room, the remnants of your hasty move. The idea of doing something productive was almost laughable, but you pushed the thought aside. You were going to unpack. You would. And that would be something.

The process was slow at first as you sorted through the boxes. Old books, some clothes you hadn’t seen in ages, and trinkets you’d forgotten about began to fill the shelves and hang in the closet. It wasn’t the most exciting task, but it was progress.

Eventually, your mind began to wander as your hands kept working. You hadn’t realized how much bigger this new apartment was compared to your last one. It was the same building but the living room felt more spacious compared to your previous unit.

The layout was unfamiliar, and for a moment, you paused, your eyes drifting down the hallway to a door you hadn’t really noticed before. It led to a second bedroom. You hadn’t asked for it when you’d signed the lease—this new place was supposed to be temporary, just for this semester. You’d taken the break from college to heal, to recalibrate after the wreckage of the past summer. Now you were back and a small part of you felt like an alien in an unfamiliar territory. You hadn’t exactly figured out how to balance all of this—your old life and this new version of yourself.

You moved to the second bedroom, setting up the bed with the same care you’d given the first. The window in here was smaller, but it was cozy and had enough space for a few furniture and for moving around. It could be perfect for when your mom comes. Or, maybe it would just be a place for things you never used.

When you finally made it to the living room, the place was looking less like a chaotic mess and more like an apartment. You flicked on the TV, hoping some background noise would distract you from the heavy silence that seemed to follow you around. Sinking back on the plush couch, you entertained yourself with a show you’d been meaning to watch.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until loud, persistent knocks on your door jolted you awake. For a moment, you just stared at the TV, trying to make sense of the time and the situation. Then the knocks came again, this time with such force it sounded like they might break the door down.

Your heart rate quickened. You sat upright, momentarily disoriented, rubbing your eyes. Glancing at the clock, you saw that two hours had passed. You quickly got to your feet, shaking off the grogginess as you reached for the door.

“Who is it?” you asked, turning the knob and swinging the door open.

What greeted you was Jaemin’s panic-stricken face, his phone pressed to his ear, and his eyes wide as if he were on the verge of tears.

“Jaemin? What happened—” Before you could finish, he pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of you.

“What’s going on?” you asked, suddenly nervous.

“Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled, holding you even tighter.

“Jaemin,” you said, trying to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “Jaemin, I can’t breathe!”

Finally, he pulled back, hands still gripping your shoulders as he demanded, “Where were you? Why didn’t you pick up?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment. You glanced at your phone on the coffee table, still buzzing because he was still calling you on his phone.

“Oh…” you trailed off, feeling suddenly guilty. “I fell asleep. I didn’t hear it.

Jaemin sighed, his shoulders sagging as he stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open again, revealing the worried faces of your friends. The moment they saw you, relief flooded their expressions, and they practically lunged at you, whining and fake-sobbing as they pulled you into a dramatic group hug.

You caught Jaemin's eye. You gave him a quick, questioning glance, discreetly mouthing, “What's going on? Why are they here?”

Jaemin paused, then mouthed back, “This is all your fault.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before you could protest, your friends were already dragging you back into the apartment, chattering excitedly, leaving Jaemin behind with his amused grin.

Dinner plans had taken an unexpected turn, and now your apartment was filled with the comforting chaos of your friends’ voices, laughter echoing from both the kitchen and living room. Jaemin and Renjun had taken over cooking duties, moving around each other with an ease that suggested they’d done this plenty of times before. You sat curled up on the couch with Karina and Giselle, half-listening to their chatter while keeping an eye on whatever Jaemin was doing near the stove.

“I swear, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Karina huffed, lightly smacking your arm. “Jaemin made it sound like you were unconscious or kidnapped or dead.”

“I was asleep,” you muttered, sinking further into the cushions. “Totally fine. He might’ve overreacted a little.”

“Overreacted?” Giselle scoffed. “You disappeared for hours, didn’t pick up a single call, and this is your first night back. Can you blame us for being a little overprotective?”

You pursed your lips, unsure how to respond to that. You weren’t trying to worry them. It just hadn’t occurred to you that they’d actually be this worried.

“I get it,” Karina said, her tone softer now. “I know it must be exhausting having people hover over you all the time, but you kinda scared us. We’re not trying to be dramatic, we just—” She hesitated. “We don’t want you slipping back into that place.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I was asleep,” you repeated, though your voice lacked conviction this time.

For a while, the conversation drifted to lighter things—Karina complaining about her new professor, Giselle filling you in on a particularly messy situationship she got tangled up in. But in between their stories, your mind wandered. You’d been back for less than a day, and it already felt like there was a spotlight on you. Like everyone was waiting for you to break again.

As Karina started a new story, you took the opportunity to discreetly lean toward her and lower your voice. “Okay, but... why is Renjun here?”

She blinked at you. “Oh. He kinda just... ended up in the group last semester.”

You furrowed your brows. “How?”

“Dunno,” she said, shrugging. “We all started hanging out more, and he just stuck around.”

“Jaemin was the one who pulled him in, I think,” Giselle added. “And then it just happened. You probably didn’t notice ‘cause, well... you weren’t around.”

Right. You hadn’t been around. It was a strange realization—like the world had kept moving while you were frozen in place.

Before you could dwell on it, Giselle suddenly perked up, her voice turning mischievous. “Hey, Renjun,” she called toward the kitchen, loudly enough to grab everyone’s attention. “How’s it feel to make food for the girl you used to like?”

Karina covered a laugh with her hand, while Jaemin snorted under his breath. Renjun, standing by the stove, exhaled slowly and shook his head, giving Giselle a look that was equal parts tired and unimpressed.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” he muttered, turning to Jaemin instead of dignifying the question with a real response.

Jaemin only smirked, stirring the pot in front of him. “Nope.”

You wanted to sink into the floor. Giselle, clearly entertained, leaned closer to you. “Does it feel weird?” she whispered. “Having your ex-crush make you dinner?”

You shot her a look. “We’re not talking about this.”

“We should talk about this,” Giselle insisted, grinning. “We wouldn’t want things to be awkward. We’re fond of him, you see.”

Karina leaned closer and lowered her voice. “We like him more than Jaemin.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin interjected, pointing the spatula at Karina.

Thankfully, they didn’t press on the matter. Dinner proceeded smoothly after that, filled with easy conversations, inside jokes, and the occasional teasing at Jaemin’s expense. The warm, comforting energy reminded you of what you had missed—of how much you had needed this.

By the time the meal wound down, everyone was full and content, slumping into their seats as Jaemin and Renjun made a half-hearted attempt to clear the dishes before eventually giving up. With a few reluctant groans, they finally dragged themselves toward the door.

“I expect an actual text back next time,” Jaemin warned, pointing at you as he slipped his shoes on.

You rolled your eyes. “Noted.”

Renjun only gave you a small nod before stepping out, and just like that, the apartment felt quieter. But not for long.

The moment the door clicked shut, Karina and Giselle turned to you with identical grins. “Sleepover,” Giselle announced.

You blinked. “What?”

“We’re staying over,” Karina said, already making herself comfortable on your couch. “You don’t get a say.”

And just like that, the night stretched on, filled with whispered gossip, bursts of laughter, and limbs tangled together as the three of you squeezed into your bed. There was something nostalgic about it—something safe. Maybe it was the way Karina absentmindedly played with your hair, or how Giselle kept making you both laugh until your stomachs hurt.

Either way, by the time sleep finally took over, you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this at peace.

The first day of the new semester felt like walking into an old sitcom set. Same buildings, same people, same scenes playing out with minor variations. Even the air smelled the same, a mix of coffee, freshly printed syllabi, and stress.

Your first lecture was a blur. You spent most of it half-listening, jotting down random notes between doodles, and staring at the clock. Time moved in an odd way—too slow and too fast all at once. Lunch was better, mostly because it required no real thought. You walked through the crowded cafeteria, tray in hand, until you spotted your friends at a corner table. Karina and Giselle were talking, Jaemin was picking at his fries, and Renjun looked relaxed and refreshed.

Jaemin glanced up as you sat down. “Finally. Our esteemed scholar returns from the clutches of education.”

You stabbed a cherry tomato with your fork. “It’s syllabus week. I haven’t done anything.”

“And you still look like you’ve been through war,” Karina teased.

You hummed noncommittally, half-listening as they fell into conversation. Someone mentioned a professor who still hadn’t uploaded the syllabus, then the best study spots on campus, then somehow they were debating the worst seats to get in a lecture hall.

The minutes stretched. The sun outside moved slowly. You took bites of your food at an unhurried pace.

At some point, Jaemin turned to Renjun. “I can’t believe you’re still sitting with us.”

He didn’t even look up from his phone. “I can’t believe I’m still sitting with you either.”

“We adopted him,” Giselle said. “He had no choice.”

Karina leaned back in her chair. “We like him more than you, so he’s not going anywhere.”

Jaemin placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. Right on my face?”

“Renjun doesn’t embarrass us in public,” Giselle pointed out.

“Not yet,” Renjun muttered, glancing at you.

The conversation continued with pointless yet oddly entertaining topics. Someone tried to recall the name of a movie but got it completely wrong. Jaemin made a terrible pun that Karina groaned at but Giselle immediately wrote it down for later use. You laughed a few times without realizing it.

And then, just like that, lunch ended. Trays were cleared, schedules compared, half-hearted complaints about afternoon classes exchanged.

The next few days passed pretty much the same. Classes, meals, occasional hangouts with your friends. Conversations stretched a little too long, and lectures felt like white noise in the background. It wasn’t bad, just monotonous. The world kept moving, even if you weren’t entirely participating.

Your schedule was light by design. Easing back into normal life was the goal, after all. But normal life turned out to be... dull. You sat through your lectures, watching the professors gesture at PowerPoints that no one was paying attention to, doodling in the margins of your notebook just to stay awake.

Somewhere in the middle of it, you befriended your seatmate, Eric. He was easygoing, quick with a joke, and effortlessly charming in the way some people just were. He had a habit of leaning in when he talked, his voice always carrying a hint of amusement.

“Did you get all that?”

“I think so,” you replied, shrugging.

“Great, can I see your notes?”

You glanced down at your page. A series of unrelated scribbles stared back at you. You slid your notebook over anyway.

“Wow,” he muttered, chuckling. “An abstract artist. Impressive.”

You glanced sideways at him, unable to suppress a chuckle at his comment. You tugged your notebook back. “You asked to see it.”

“You know, I think you might be the only person in this class who doesn’t look completely bored and sleepy,” he mused, lazily spinning a pen between his fingers.

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s an assumption.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What’s your secret? Other than practicing abstract art in your notebooks.”

“Complete emotional detachment,” you deadpanned.

Eric laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I really really like you.”

You only smiled, assuming he meant it in a general, friendly way.

Meanwhile, Jaemin remained his usual self, looking after you in his own quiet way. He never outright asked if you were okay. He just walked back with you most days, keeping up a steady stream of conversation like he always had.

Today, he was talking about a new café that opened near campus. “They have this matcha croissant that’s supposed to be life-changing,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you walked. “I heard you girls are already planning a whole trip just to try it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing at him. “What about you?”

“I mean, I like croissants,” he shrugged. “But I feel like I’ll end up there no matter what.”

You hummed in response. Jaemin didn’t push. Instead, he switched topics, asking if you’d seen the latest episode of the drama you both started last year. You hadn’t.

“That’s tragic,” he sighed. “Now I have to pretend I don’t know what happens every time I talk about it.”

“You could just not talk about it.”

“That’s just impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “You know I don’t have that kind of self-control.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. The week passed before you knew it.

One evening, after another regular day of classes, you came home feeling drained. You went about your routine—shower, tea, maybe a TV show since it was Friday night. You had a good grasp of your plans for the night, until a simple misstep turned into a disaster.

You weren’t even sure how it happened. Did you trip over the edge of the rug? Lose your footing while stepping into the shower? Either way, one second you were moving, and the next, you were on the floor, hissing as a sharp sting shot up your ankle.

It’s not that bad, you told yourself. Just a little soreness. You managed to get an ice pack for it, and went to bed thinking it would be fine in the morning.

Except, by morning, it wasn’t. You were feverish, and the dull ache had worsened. Even shifting the wrong way sent a sharp pulse through your foot. You tried to get up and walk, but that proved impossible, so you decided to call the first person who crossed your mind.

Jaemin arrived not ten minutes later, equipped with some stuff from the drugstore and a takeout bag.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he stepped into your bedroom.

“Just a little accident,” you said too quickly. “I’m fine, but it hurts to move.”

Jaemin’s face tightened as he examined your ankle, pressing on it just enough for pain to shoot through, making you wince.

He exhaled sharply. “Yeah, no. We’re going to the ER.”

“It’s not that bad. I just need rest and some ibuprofen.”

Jaemin gave you a look. “You also have a fever. We need to check if you broke a bone or something. I know you hate it, but you’re gonna have to deal with this because, honestly, you’re way too clumsy for your own good.”

The trip to the ER wasn’t exactly eventful, but it was exhausting. You sat through the usual process—check-in, vitals, waiting. When the doctor finally saw you, they examined your ankle, prodded at it, and sent you off for an X-ray, just to be sure.

“Good news, nothing’s broken,” the doctor announced when they returned with your results. “Just a bad sprain. We’ll wrap it up, and you’ll need to stay off it for a few days. But there’s something else. Your bloodwork shows low iron and glucose levels.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You need to eat healthier,” they said simply, setting the file down. “Skipping meals, not getting enough nutrients. It’s showing up in your results. We’re giving you an IV now, but you should be more mindful of your diet moving forward.”

You exhaled as the nurse set up the IV, already anticipating what was coming. Jaemin, who had been sitting quietly beside you, didn’t say I told you so, but you felt it in the way he glanced at you.

It was only after the doctor left that he spoke. “I called your mom,” he said, casual like it was nothing.

Your head snapped toward him. “You what?”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “I figured you won’t tell her so, I did.”

“I was gonna tell her,” you grumbled. “Eventually.”

He didn’t look convinced. Before you could say anything else, your phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen before handing it over. “That’s her.”

Sighing, you took the call. “Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, honey.” Her voice was warm with relief. “Are you okay? Jaemin said you hurt your foot?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured her. “It’s just a sprain. And some iron deficiency, apparently. No big deal.”

Your mom sighed on the other end. “Sweetheart, you have to take care of yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “It’s just a sprain. And I’ll eat better, I promise. They gave me an IV. I’m allowed to go home after this.”

A pause. Then, carefully, she said, “I was thinking maybe one of your friends could stay with you for a few days. Just until you’re feeling better?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she added quickly, “It’s just a suggestion. I’d feel better knowing someone’s there with you.”

You blinked. “Mom, I don’t wanna bother them like that.”

“I know, but…” she sighed. “Let me talk to Jaemin, sweetie.”

You glanced at Jaemin before handing the phone back to him. He took it without question, nodding along as your mom talked his ear off. You could only catch bits and pieces—something about making sure you eat, not letting you skip meals, and keeping an eye on your ankle.

Eventually, he hung up and turned to you. “So, good news. You’re not dying. Bad news. Your mom insists someone stay with you for a few days. And—” He paused for dramatic effect. “She volunteered me.”

You gave him a flat look. “You volunteered yourself, didn’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jaemin dismissed. “What’s important is that I am now your temporary live-in nurse. I expect full cooperation.”

You sighed, debating your options, which, realistically, were none. You could protest, but you knew Jaemin. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you were limping around your apartment. And honestly? Maybe having him around wouldn’t be that bad.

“Fine,” you muttered.

Jaemin nodded. “Okay. I’ll take the couch.”

You shook your head. “No need. I have a spare room you can use.”

“Oh?” he said, pressing his finger to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “That’s even better.”

You exhaled slowly, rolling your eyes as you shifted to get more comfortable in the hospital bed. Jaemin, without missing a beat, adjusted the pillow behind you, leaning in a bit closer than necessary. You could smell his cologne, fresh, woodsy, and all too familiar.

“I have rules,” you said, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“Of course,” Jaemin murmured, sounding amused.

You felt his hand brush over your forehead for a second, checking your temperature, but it lingered there longer than usual. You let out a quiet sigh, more content than you'd been all evening. With Jaemin here, maybe things would be okay.

You were only 14 when Jaemin and his family moved in next door. At the time, you weren’t particularly thrilled by the idea of befriending some new kid just because your parents told you to. You were used to being on your own, and you didn’t really feel like spending your weekends babysitting someone. But, as parents do, they insisted, so you reluctantly agreed.

It would be easier if he wanted to be friends with you too. But you could sense that he didn’t. He was curt, somehow a little mean when he talked to you. So, despite your parents’ wishes, you didn’t put in the effort to really get to know him.

That was until one Saturday morning. The sun was a little too bright for your taste, but you went with your family anyway. The hike was supposed to be a fun family outing, the kind where you would all get some fresh air and maybe stop at the lake for some snacks. Jaemin had only just moved in for over a week, and he was quiet, reserved, completely out of place in the familiar group of your family and his own. You didn’t blame him for that, but it didn’t stop you from feeling annoyed when your mom pointed him out and told you to stick by his side.

It didn’t take long for Jaemin to get lost. Not that it was entirely his fault. He was a city kid, and the woods were a different world. He wandered too far ahead, distracted by something, and before long, he was out of sight. That was when you heard him calling out for help.

You should’ve ignored it, honestly. The adults would hear him soon and they’d help. But somehow, you couldn’t just leave him alone. So you went after him, with quick steps as you navigated through the trees, trying to track down the lost kid. You found him standing by a cluster of rocks, looking entirely confused.

“Hey,” you called, catching his attention. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Jaemin turned to face you, frustration and relief etched in his expression. “I... I guess I took a wrong turn.”

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”

He followed you without a word, your pace steady as you led him back to the group. It wasn’t long before the others found you, and the hike resumed without much delay. But Jaemin stuck to you for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind because he was quiet most of the time, so you didn’t need to talk to him.

After that day, Jaemin kept showing up. At school, he’d sit next to you in class, not because he had to, but because he didn’t know anyone else to sit with. At lunch, ,he would find his way to your table, and you’d have your usual back-and-forth, making jokes and laughing about things only the two of you found funny. He was a little quieter back then, but there was always something comfortable about having him around. You didn’t have to try to impress him, and he didn’t make things awkward.

In high school, Jaemin was the guy you called when you couldn’t reach the top shelf in the kitchen, or when your phone was broken and you needed help figuring out what was wrong with it. When your family’s car broke down on a trip out of town, he was the one who came over with his toolbox and somehow managed to get the engine running again. And when you told him your food cravings at 11 PM, he’d be the one to show up at your door with your favorite late-night snack, laughing about how you were impossible to please.

“Am I your slave? Why do I have to do this for you?” he’d complain, but you knew he didn’t mean it.

Jaemin was dependable, and you had always known that. He wasn’t just that. He was also the guy who could make you laugh even when you wanted to stay mad at him. He was good at cooking, always surprising you with something new in the kitchen. And when he’d show you his latest photos, you couldn’t help but feel proud. He was talented. He always managed to stay humble, even when people around him began noticing just how good he was at everything.

You never really told him he was your best friend. You didn’t need to. The way you bickered and joked around always downplayed the depth of your connection, but you both knew you were each other’s person. It was the kind of friendship that didn’t need constant reaffirmation. The kind that lasted because it was simply there, no effort required.

Now, as you sat on the couch in your apartment, Jaemin sitting nearby while you fumbled through a book you were reading, you couldn’t help but notice how little had changed. Jaemin had grown up, of course, he had. He was older now, more popular, more confident, a little more polished. But underneath all of that, he was still the same guy you’d met all those years ago.

Still the guy who could cook you a meal without breaking a sweat, making your favorite dish like it was the easiest thing in the world. Still the one who was always convenient to have around, no matter the situation. There was something strangely comforting about how much he hadn’t changed. He had grown, sure, but the essence of who he was—the one who showed up without being asked, who willingly and effortlessly took care of everything—was still the same.

Jaemin was annoyingly good at taking care of you. The first morning in your apartment, you woke up to the smell of something warm and savory, your stomach twisting in hunger before you were even fully conscious. When you managed to make your way to the kitchen in crutches, he was already plating breakfast, acting like he’d lived here all his life.

“You’re up,” he said, not even looking up from the pan. “Sit. Eat.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Isn’t this too much for breakfast?”

Jaemin set a bowl in front of you, a perfectly balanced meal that made your usual instant ramen diet look embarrassing. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I thought you already knew that?”

You huffed but didn’t argue, mostly because he was right. And because the food smelled too good to resist.

For the next few days, Jaemin took over your apartment like a man on a mission. Since you couldn’t walk, he made sure everything you needed was within reach. He left water bottles and snacks at your bedside. He helped you move whenever you needed to get to the bathroom or the couch.

He had an almost annoying dedication to making sure you ate. Every lunchtime, without fail, he showed up at your apartment. You’d hear the front door unlock, and a few minutes later, he’d be standing in front of you, arms crossed.

“Did you eat?”

You’d roll your eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

Jaemin would glance at the table, checking for evidence. If he saw plates in the sink, he’d nod and remind you to take your meds before going back to campus. Sometimes just moving to prepare your own food was tiring, but you knew better than to try and lie to him, so you didn’t.

It was kind of nice. Annoying, but nice. But, of course, there were the embarrassing moments that came with having him around 24/7.

Like the time you walked into the living room, only to find him casually folding your clothes—including your underwear.

“Jaemin!” you shrieked, nearly tripping over your own foot.

He barely blinked, holding up a pair of lace-trimmed bras with a considering look. “Are these new?”

“Oh my god, drop them!”

Jaemin chuckled, but thankfully, he did as you said. “Relax. It’s just laundry. It’s not like I haven’t seen a bra before.”

Then there was the time you walked out of your room in the morning, still half-asleep, only to find Jaemin in nothing but a towel, casually walking out of the bathroom. You froze.

Jaemin, completely unfazed, rubbed his damp hair with another towel. “Morning.”

You closed your eyes shut, looking away dramatically. “What the hell?! Put some clothes on!”

He snorted. “Don’t like it, don’t look.”

“Excuse me? This is my apartment! I don’t need to see—” You cut yourself off before you could make things worse, groaning into your hands. “God, just—just go.”

Jaemin laughed as he padded past you toward the spare room. “Noted.” It was a nightmare.

When you were finally able to attend classes again, Jaemin always walked there with you. He made it look casual, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging whenever you pointed it out. “What? We have almost the same schedule.”

You didn’t. And yet, every day, he was there, waiting for you to get ready, carrying your bag when he thought you looked too tired, making sure you got back home without a hitch.

Around the apartment, he was everywhere. You’d be brushing your teeth in the bathroom, and he’d be leaning against the doorway, scrolling through his phone like he had nowhere better to be. You’d be on the couch, flipping through channels, and he’d plop down beside you, stealing the remote.

When he cooked dinner, he’d make you sit on the counter, keeping you close while he moved around the kitchen like it was his. “I swear, if you don’t start eating better, I’m gonna move in permanently,” he’d threaten, flicking water at you when you teased him about being a housewife.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” you told him one evening, watching as he washed the dishes.

Jaemin didn’t look up. “I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Because I want to.”

You stared at him for a second before shaking your head. “Suit yourself. I’m not complaining about a clean house and good food.”

Jaemin just chuckled. “You can admit you like having me around. Don’t be shy.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. He was right, but he’d never catch you admitting that out loud. Not to his face at least.

Before you knew it, two weeks had passed. Your ankle had fully healed, and Jaemin—your self-appointed live-in nurse and housewife—was finally packing up his things. You stood by his bedroom door, watching him fold his clothes neatly in place.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

Jaemin hummed, tossing a hoodie into his duffel bag. “Getting my stuff ready. I’m moving back to the dorm by the end of the day.”

You knew this was coming. It wasn’t like he was living with you permanently. But for some reason, you didn’t like hearing it out loud.

The idea of your apartment returning to its usual emptiness made you uncomfortable. No more clinking in the kitchen in the early morning, no more stolen bites from your plate, no more Jaemin casually invading your space like it was his own. Loneliness slowly crept into your chest at the idea.

But you didn’t tell him that.

By the time you stepped out of the apartment, the morning sun was warm against your skin, and Jaemin was walking beside you like he had been doing in the last few days. It had become routine—leaving together, arriving together. For the past two weeks, Jaemin had been around every moment of the day, making sure you ate, getting you to class, sticking around like a permanent fixture in your life. And now, just like that, he was packing up.

You glanced at him, the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. It felt strange, knowing he wouldn’t be there tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that. The thought unsettled you more than it should. Trying not to dwell on it, you cleared your throat. “What’s the college dorm like?”

Jaemin scoffed. “Let’s see… bunk beds that creak every time you move. Paper-thin walls so you hear everything. People talking, snoring, doing… other things.” He grimaced. “Shared bathrooms, too. It’s an experience, to say the least.”

You made a face. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” Jaemin confirmed, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. “And my roommate? Dude never cleaned up after himself. I swear, I did all the work.”

“That sucks.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Must be nice having your own space for the past two weeks, huh?”

Jaemin shot you a look, catching on just a little. “I guess.”

“You guess?” You raised a brow. “I mean, you had a whole kitchen. A clean bathroom. Nobody snoring in the same room as you.”

Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. “Are you trying to make a point?”

“Nope. Just making conversation.” You shrugged, keeping your expression neutral.

He rolled his eyes, but there was amusement dancing in them. “Right.”

You left it at that, but something about the conversation must have stuck, because at lunch, Jaemin was still talking about it. He was talking when you joined them at the cafeteria, casually sliding into the seat next to him.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked, although you already heard snippets of their conversation.

“Jaemin’s moving back to the dorms today,” Karina said, sighing. “We’re wishing him luck.”

“Why would you willingly go back?” Giselle added, incredulous. “Dorm life is hell. It’s literally just a shoebox with a bed.”

“And you can hear everything,” Renjun chimed in. “My friend used to hear his neighbor watch porn and masturbate at two in the morning.”

Everyone at your table groaned in unison. Giselle dramatically covered her mouth as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “That word in your mouth, Renjun? I can’t believe it!”

“What? Masturbate?”

You all groaned again. At this point, Giselle was fake-sobbing on Karina’s shoulder. “My sweet innocent Renjun. Jaemin, what have you been teaching my baby?” she pointed an accusatory finger at Jaemin.

“I’m literally half a year older than you,” Renjun deadpanned.

Your table was chaotic as usual, but your mind was elsewhere, focusing on Jaemin and the fact that he won’t be around after today.

And that afternoon after classes were over, you leaned against the doorway of the spare bedroom, watching Jaemin zip up his duffel bag. He moved around the room, gathering the last of his things, a hoodie hanging on the back of the door, his camera resting on the desk, a pair of socks he’d somehow left on the floor.

It was expected, of course. He was always going to leave. That was the deal. But standing there, watching him pack, you felt the reality of it settle in your chest in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

You sighed without meaning to. Jaemin didn’t turn at first, but when he finally did, he smirked. “Why do you look so upset? Gonna miss me when I’m gone?”

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, arms crossing over your chest. “I was just worried you’d have a hard time when you’re back in the dorms.”

Jaemin huffed out a small laugh. “I’ve lived there since freshman year. I’ll survive.”

You knew that. You weren’t actually worried about him adjusting. He was fine there before. He’d be fine again. But would you? Would you be okay when the small ray of sunshine that had been brightening up your space for the last two weeks disappeared?

You hesitated. The words forming in your head felt too heavy, too exposing. You weren’t even sure you wanted to say them. And yet, before you could think better of it, they slipped out anyway. “You don’t have to leave.”

Jaemin paused, his hands holding the zipper of his bag. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, shifting on your feet. You could leave it at that. Brush it off, pretend you meant something else. But he was already looking at you, waiting.

“You heard me,” you muttered, looking away.

Jaemin tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I did, but I’m not sure I’m understanding it correctly.”

Heat prickled at your skin. This was exactly why you didn’t want to say it. He was just gonna tease you about it. Annoyed, embarrassed, and already regretting this, you huffed. “I said I want you to stay. Don’t go back to the dorms. Just go get your stuff and stay here.”

Jaemin laughed. “Oh, you want me to stay—” He trailed off as his eyes met yours. His amusement faded slightly when he realized you weren’t laughing. “You’re serious?”

You dropped your gaze, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think you understand what it would mean if I stayed here,” he said softly, searching your face. “That means I have to live here with you, in your space. You’ll have to see me everyday until the semester is over.”

“I know that. It’s not like I’m doing this for free. We can split the rent and other bills. I’ll buy the groceries, you make sure to make food. I’ll lend you my linens and other stuff, you make sure they’re clean.”

“Why are you okay with this?”

You exhaled slowly, staring at the floor like the answer might be there.

Because the apartment would be too quiet without him. Because the past two weeks had been easier, and brighter, less mundane and less dull. Because you’d gotten used to him being there, to the sound of him moving around, to the way he always had something to say.

But admitting that felt like too much. So instead, you shrugged, forcing nonchalance into your voice. “Because I’m anemic and low on sugar. Someone’s gotta make sure I’m well-fed and healthy.”

Jaemin chuckled heartily, sighing as he gave you an affectionate look. He always did that when he found you cute or endearing, and it always annoyed you because it made you feel like a child.

“If you don’t want to then, forget it,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Go back to your bunk bed and dirty roommate, I guess.”

“Fine. I’m staying. But only because you forced me to,” he teased, opening his bag again and emptying it.

You stomped toward him, slapping his shoulder. “I did not!”

“Sure, you didn’t.”

You scoffed, annoyed and wondering if you could still take it back. But your heart is lighter now, more at ease. “You better not say that to the girls when they ask about this.”

“I don’t know,” he said in a sing-song. “I might. I might not.”

Living with Jaemin wasn’t all that different from when he was just temporarily staying over. It still came with the same pros: warm food every day, a perpetually clean kitchen, and the added bonus of a personal bodyguard whenever you had to walk home late. But, of course, the same cons remained—the casual half-nakedness, and the occasional mixing of laundry that resulted in you pulling one of his boxers out of your pile.

He changed the spare bedroom completely, swapping out your plain beddings for something that matched his aesthetic better—earthy tones and soft fabrics, the kind that looked straight out of a home decor catalog. He put up posters on the walls, ones he must’ve had in storage, and his toiletries now sat next to yours in the bathroom cabinet. It was still your apartment, but it was slowly becoming his home too.

For the most part, it was nice.

One evening, as you got ready to head out, Giselle came over, letting herself in as usual. She plopped down on your couch, watching as you moved around the apartment, gathering your things.

“Hey, did Jaemin leave already?” she asked, eyeing the shoes by the door—his shoes.

You glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door that was slightly ajar, revealing the edge of his neatly made bed. “Oh, no. He lives here now.”

Giselle blinked. “Permanently?”

“Yeah.” You pulled on a jacket, smoothing it out in the mirror. “He figured it was better than the dorms, so he just moved in.”

Giselle let out a low whistle. “Damn. I’m kinda jealous. I want a live-in housemaid who cooks for me every day too.”

You laughed. “He’s not a housemaid.”

“But still.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head in thought. “Isn’t it weird, though?”

“What?”

“Living with a guy,” she said. “Like, you’re a girl. He’s a guy. Isn’t that… I don’t know, weird?”

You made a face. “We’ve known each other since we were fourteen, Giselle. I don’t see him like that.”

“Huh.” She tapped a finger against her chin, thinking. “So girls and boys can really be just friends.”

“Of course. Why is that even an argument?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“I mean, I always figured it was possible,” she mused. “But you guys aren’t just friends. You’re like…” She gestured vaguely, searching for the right words. Then, she snapped her fingers. “You’re soulmates. Platonic soulmates, but still soulmates.”

You snorted. “Soulmates?”

“Yeah. You guys are practically an old married couple without the romance.” She grinned. “It’s honestly kinda cute.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue. Because, well, maybe she had a point.

The party was louder than you remembered parties being. Maybe it had just been a while, or maybe you were out of practice, but for the first hour, you found yourself unable to keep up with the energy around you. People moved in and out of conversations effortlessly, the music pulsed through the space, and the air was thick with the familiar mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume.

It felt new again, being surrounded like this, caught up in the rhythm of a rowdy crowd. You sipped at your drink, letting yourself ease into it.

As you looked around, the memories of the past summer came registering into your mind’s view. The last time you'd felt this kind of buzz was that summer in Mykonos. You hadn’t thought about it much in a while, but now, under the neon lights and the noise, your memories brought you back to those days. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t sad or upsetting to remember that phase. In fact, you almost laughed at yourself, recalling just how much fun you’d had back then.

You’d been reckless. Maybe a little foolish. Definitely unhinged at times.

Donghyuck crossed your mind, slipping into the memory as easily as he had slipped into your life back then. That summer had been a whirlwind, the two of you burning through it like a fire neither of you had tried to put out. You wondered how he was doing. If he ever thought about that summer. If he ever thought about you.

Before you could dwell on it for too long, a hand grabbed yours. It was Giselle, grinning at you as he tugged you further into the house. “Come on!”

“Where are we—”

Karina appeared on your other side, looping her arm around yours. “Drinking game. Let’s go.”

You barely had a chance to protest before they dragged you into a circle of students, their laughter and cheers carrying over the loud music and chatter. Someone handed you a shot. The game was in full swing—a card game of truth or take a shot.

You participated, not because you wanted to, but because you were already there. It carried on, drinks passing from hand to hand, each question peeling back another layer of someone's carefully curated image. You laughed as someone admitted to sending an embarrassing drunk text the night before, and winced when another revealed they had been caught sneaking a boy into their apartment by their roommate’s mom.

Then, it was your turn, which surprised you a little. You thought the chances of getting picked was low, given the large number of people participating in the game. But here you are.

“Who’s the last person you kissed?” said someone who was reading the card you’d picked, and the circle immediately leaned in, eager for the answer.

You hesitated, warmth creeping up your neck. The answer should have come easily, but instead, your mind drew a complete blank.

“Well?” Giselle pressed.

You shifted in your seat. “No one.”

That didn’t satisfy them. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious,” you insisted. “I haven’t kissed anyone recently.”

The group groaned in disappointment, and someone called out, “Boring!” You only rolled your eyes, but before you could deflect, another question landed in your lap.

“What about your first kiss?”

You laughed, relieved it wasn’t about the present anymore. “That was back in high school,” you said lightly. “You probably wouldn’t even know them.”

But the moment the words left your mouth, your gaze flickered across the room, drawn almost instinctively to Jaemin. He was standing far across the hall, deep in conversation, laughing with his friends.

And then it hit you. Jaemin. Your first kiss had been Jaemin. A sharp gasp left your lips.

The realization knocked into you like a gust of wind, rattling your brain, unearthing a memory you hadn’t even realized you’d buried. The circle of people blurred into static noise as your pulse pounded in your ears. Without thinking, you rose to your feet.

“Hey! Where are you—”

“Bathroom,” you blurted, before turning and walking—no, running—out of the room.

You didn’t stop until you reached the garden area of the house, stepping into the cooler night air. The party still pulsed behind you, but out here, it was less stuffy, easier to breathe.

You held onto the edge of a patio table as you tried to process what had just resurfaced. How could you have forgotten something like that? How had it just slipped from your memory as if it never happened?

Jaemin had been your first kiss. Not some crush, not a random guy at a party. Jaemin.

The thought sent your brain into overdrive. It must have been casual, right? A stupid teenage thing. A dare? A joke? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to summon the exact details, but all you got were flashes—his face close to yours, the stuffy in the air, the way he’d grinned afterward.

You let out a breath, feeling slightly light-headed. And then you heard a familiar voice calling your name behind you.

“Are you okay?” You turned, and there he was. Jaemin, stepping onto the patio, his head tilting slightly in concern.

You straightened immediately, forcing a neutral expression. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”

Jaemin didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he eyed you for a moment before asking, “Have you been drinking?”

You hesitated before nodding. “A little.”

He narrowed his eyes on you. “You know you’re not supposed to drink, right?”

You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes just a little. “I’m allowed to drink, Jaemin. And besides, I’m all better now. I didn’t even need to go to rehab and I’m off therapy.”

Jaemin shrugged, stuffing his hands in hi pockets. “Yeah, but it won’t hurt to be careful. You don’t seem that well to me.”

You understood what he meant. While it was true that the events of that summer no longer haunted you, you hadn’t reverted back to your old easy-going, and happy self. This was probably just a phase, a transition period because blending back seamlessly wasn’t as easy as people made it out to be. But you knew in your heart that you were all better now, you were simply adjusting.

Silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… lingering. There was something on the tip of your tongue, something you wanted to ask, but you didn’t.

Instead, you inhaled slowly, pushing the thought away. “I’m heading back in,” you said.

Jaemin nodded, stepping aside to let you pass. As you walked back inside, the memory of your first kiss still sat heavy in your chest. It was back now, no longer buried. And you had no idea what to do with it.

You had hoped that unearthing a memory as important as your first kiss wouldn’t affect your life. But it did, funnily enough. Now, you couldn’t look Jaemin in the eye or act normally around him. It was awkward, and you knew he could feel it too. He was just nice enough not to ask questions. Or maybe he knew he hadn’t done anything to cause this, so he wasn’t bothered at all.

You, however, were very much bothered.

As you sat on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone, your gaze kept drifting toward Jaemin. He was vacuuming the apartment like nothing had changed, like you hadn’t just recovered a lost piece of your history together. Did he remember that night? Or had he forgotten, just like you had?

You could still see it so clearly now. Some summer party when you were sixteen. The two of you, shoved into a cramped closet for a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

“We’re not gonna do it,” you’d said immediately. “Obviously, we’re not gonna do it.”

Jaemin had shrugged. “Let’s just let the seven minutes pass and we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” you’d agreed. But you’d been restless, hugging your arms around yourself, picking at the sleeve of your dress.

The closet had been stuffy, filled with the scent of old coats and lingering perfume. You’d had a few bottles of beer and cups of whatever mix of alcohol and softdrinks the jocks had concocted earlier. You’d been hot and light-headed. So when he shifted slightly and his elbow nudged your arm, you had looked up at him ready to snap and say something mean like you always did.

But you couldn’t. The words died in your throat when you were met by his eyes, striking in the glow of your phone’s flashlight, staring back at you. The same eyes that had always been so easy to read—except, for the first time, you weren’t sure what you were seeing.

“Just one?” you blurted before you could even stop yourself.

Jaemin moved to face you fully. “Just one,” he said, already reaching to cup your face and kiss your lips.

It was just one, as agreed. As soon as his mouth touched yours, something in you had caved. The kiss had stolen the air out of your lungs, and erased the rationality in your head. That one kiss had you gripping the back of his neck, fingers curling against his hair as you pulled him closer for more. His hands on your hips were firm, keeping you steady as you felt your knees go weak with the sensation of his lips.

It was just one kiss. But it was one hell of a kiss. And yet, somehow, you’d managed to forget it ever happened—until now.

“Hey.” Jaemin’s voice yanked you back to the present.

You blinked, vision coming back into focus. He was standing in front of you now, the vacuum off, watching you with mild concern. His hand was on your arm.

“Huh?” you said, stupidly.

His brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

Panic flared up in your chest. His touch felt too warm, too familiar, and suddenly, it was all too much. You swatted his hand away, bolted up from the couch, and rushed straight into your room.

You told yourself it was no big deal. Just a long-forgotten memory, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. It shouldn’t change anything. It didn’t mean anything.

But no matter how much you tried to push it out of your mind, you couldn’t. It was like Jaemin had been put under a magnifying glass—every little thing about him suddenly too noticeable, too distracting.

Like the way his voice softened when he called your name. Or how his sweater sleeves were always pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. Or the way he laughed, nose scrunching, eyes disappearing. Or, most annoyingly, how effortlessly attractive he was.

That hadn’t been a new observation, obviously. You always knew Jaemin was handsome. It was just a fact. But suddenly, it was something you were aware of in a way you had never been before. Suddenly, you were attracted to this handsomeness and it was infuriating.

The worst moment, by far, had been a few days ago. You had been curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Jaemin had stepped out of the bathroom—fresh from a shower, towel slung around his neck, with his messy damp hair falling over his forehead. And, of course, because the universe was cruel, he had been shirtless.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but you did.

It was impossible not to when his toned muscles were right there, his defined chest and abs on full display as he wiped at his hair. You knew he was ripped. You knew he had been going to gym consistently, putting in the work to maintain his physique. But you hadn’t given it any attention until right now.

He glanced up mid-rub, catching you staring blatantly with wide eyes. “What?” he asked, smirking.

“Nothing,” you blurted, whipping your gaze away so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your ears burned. You buried your face back into your phone, scrolling blindly, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Jaemin just laughed, shaking his head as he walked into his room. But you were left with the horrifying realization that you had just ogled your best friend.

And it wasn’t just that. It was everything that used to be so normal, so second-nature.

The way he absentmindedly ruffled your hair, the way he leaned in close when talking, the way he smelled—clean, fresh, woodsy—a mix that smelled distinctly Jaemin. You found yourself noticing things you never paid attention to before. And the more you noticed, the more your brain kept circling back to that memory—of being sixteen, of being in that closet, of his lips on yours.

Jaemin noticed eventually. He noticed how you avoided his gaze, how you stiffened when he casually draped an arm over your shoulders like he always had. He noticed how you started keeping just enough distance between you, subtly leaning away when he got too close.

At first, he didn’t seem to think much of it—maybe just a weird mood, something that would pass. But when it didn’t, when you kept acting like a skittish cat whenever he so much as looked at you for too long, his patience finally ran out.

He caught you by the wrist one afternoon, stopping you just as you were about to escape into your room after he sat too close to you in the couch and you scooted away like you were terrified of him.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Your heart jumped to your throat. “Nothing.”

His grip was loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted, but his stare pinned you in place. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

Jaemin scoffed, giving you a look that said he wasn’t buying it for a second. “Yeah, okay,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you’re just gonna act like I’m gonna devour you each time I so much as look at you, why did you ask to live together?”

“Live together?” you echoed, his choice of words making your brain short-circuit. “We’re not living together. We’re sharing an apartment.”

“Yeah, that’s what living together means. I— That’s not the point,” he stopped and sighed, letting you go and placing his hands on his waist. “What did I do? Tell me so I can apologize and we can get over it.”

Tell him? Tell him? How were you supposed to tell him that you’d just remembered your first kiss with him and it was making you all giddy and nervous when he was near? You couldn’t possibly say that to your best friend of all people!

You opened your mouth to argue, to deny, to brush it off, but luckily, salvation arrived in the form of your friends ringing the doorbell.

“That’s the girls,” you said, making a break for the door before he could stop you again. “We’re seeing Ningning today. I’ll be home late, so no need to make me dinner.”

Jaemin let out a frustrated sigh behind you. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

“I will,” you replied, but you didn’t look back. You definitely will not call him to pick you up.

Café dates with your friends were usually a safe space, a break from the chaos of college life. But today, your mind was still preoccupied, and no matter how hard you tried to be present, you kept zoning out, stirring your iced coffee with the straw until the ice had almost completely melted.

“You’re quiet today,” Karina noted, giving you a curious look.

You blinked, forcing a smile. “Huh? No, I’m fine.”

“You literally just sighed to yourself,” Ningning said flatly.

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been acting weird since we got here. Spill it.”

You hesitated. Admitting this out loud made it feel too real. But the three of them were staring at you like interrogators, and you knew they weren’t going to let this go.

You exhaled, deciding to rip the band-aid off. “I’ve been thinking about something weird lately.”

Giselle leaned in, interested. “Weird how?”

You bit your lip, hesitating for just a second before blurting, “I just—” You exhaled sharply. “I just remembered that Jaemin was my first kiss.”

“WHAT?”

Their voices were too loud that it drew attention from the nearby tables. You winced, shushing them in a panic. “Hey, keep it down.”

“You just dropped a bomb on us, what do you expect?” Ningning whisper-yelled, looking personally offended that she was only learning this now.

Karina gaped at you. “Jaemin was your first kiss? How are you best friends with your first kiss?”

“I kinda forgot about it,” you admitted sheepishly. “It happened in high school. And I didn’t remember until recently.”

They exchanged looks, intrigue and disbelief dancing on their faces. Giselle was the first to recover. “Okay, wait. So, was it like, an actual kiss kiss? Or one of those lame pecks?”

You opened your mouth to answer but suddenly remembered just how intense it had actually been. Your face burned. Karina gasped. “Oh my god! It was a real kiss, wasn’t it?”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Can we not?”

“No, we absolutely can,” Ningning said, practically buzzing. “So? What does this mean? Do you—” she wiggled her brows, “—like him?”

“What? No!” you said immediately, way too defensive. “We were sixteen and dumb, playing seven minutes in heaven. I just— It’s weird, okay? It’s weird that I didn’t remember it, and now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

They exchanged another round of knowing looks. You hated it. “Guys, stop making me nervous.”

Ningning leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Okay, but think about it. You’ve lived with Jaemin for how long now? Three weeks? And now is when you suddenly remember this? What if your brain suppressed it because it meant something?”

You gave her a deadpan look. “Yeah, I totally repressed my first kiss because I was secretly in love with Jaemin all this time. That makes so much sense.”

Karina tapped her nails against the table. “Actually, she has a point. You said you forgot it happened, right? But then all of a sudden, it just comes back out of nowhere? Why? What triggered it?”

You hesitated. “Remember last week when we were playing a game at the party? And you guys asked me about my first kiss?” They nodded. “Yeah, that’s when it came back to me. Now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been acting all weird around him and he’s starting to notice.”

Karina’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, wait. What if the reason you forgot about it was because it would have changed the way you saw him back then? And now that you remembered it, you can’t unsee it because it’s been so long and he’s changed and you’ve changed and now he’s—”

“Hot,” Giselle finished, giving Karina a high-five after.

“Don’t say that,” you groaned.

“What? Hot?” Giselle snickered. “Why not? Jaemin is hot. Have you seen him?”

Karina grinned beside you. “Of course she’s seen him. They see each other 24/7 now.”

Ningning, just to fan the fire, said, “Bet he walks around shirtless after a shower.”

“Or when he gets back from the gym,” Giselle added, making all the girls oooh and fan their faces.

You stared at them, horrified. “You’re all insane.”

“Maybe, but you’re not saying we’re wrong,” Ningning said smugly. “Come on, babe. It’s okay to admit it. You like him. You want to kiss him again.”

“You guys are giving way too much meaning to something that happened years ago,” you insisted.

“Are we, though?” Giselle challenged. “Because we’re not the ones acting weird around our best friend over ‘something that happened years ago’,” she added, mimicking that way you spoke.

Karina tilted her head. "Yeah, why do you think that is?”

You opened your mouth to answer but came up empty. Because, ugh, they did have a point. It was just a kiss—one from years ago—but if it really was that meaningless, why were you spiraling?

“Wait, what about him?” Ningning prompted. “Does he remember that? Did he know that was your first kiss?”

Your stomach flipped at the question. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we ever talked about it.”

“What if,” Karina said, narrowing her eyes, “he remembers, but he never tried anything with you because he knows if you two cross that line, it changes everything.”

That thought sat uneasily in your chest. Giselle leaned back. “So. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” you said immediately.

They groaned in unison. “You have to at least ask him,” Ningning urged.

“Why? That’s just gonna make things weirder.”

“What’s weird is that you’re spiraling over this instead of just asking,” Giselle pointed out.

Karina agreed. “Yeah. What if this is your ‘childhood best friends to lovers’ arc?”

You shot her a look. “This is not a K-drama.”

“But it could be.”

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not just gonna randomly ask him if he remembers a kiss from when we were sixteen.”

“You won’t have to,” Karina chimed. “We’ll help you figure out the perfect way to bring it up.”

You had a feeling you were going to regret this.

Giselle smirked, stirring her drink. “See, this is why I always say men and women can’t be just friends.”

“We totally can,” you countered.

“Sure, whatever,” she said, unimpressed. “But at some point in every guy-girl friendship, there’s gonna be a small phase where one of them saw the other romantically. Or, in your case, had a history of sharing something as special as a first kiss.”

Your friends began teasing you about it. You could only frown and say nothing. Because, for the first time, you weren’t entirely sure if she was wrong.

Mark Lee was the last person you expected to run into.

You had been walking back to your apartment, your mind still agonizing about your conversation with your friends. The moment you spotted him, standing by the trunk of a car and hoisting a duffel bag over his shoulder, you almost gasped.

“Mark?” you called out, making him glance at you.

His face lit up in recognition. “No way. Look who it is.”

You walked towards him, smiling. “Hi.”

He shut the trunk with a firm thud and slung his bag higher onto his shoulder, his eyes scanning you briefly. “It’s been a while. You still live here?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You?”

“Nah, I’m actually moving out,” Mark replied. “I graduated last semester.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “Oh. Congratulations. I almost forgot you were a year ahead of us.”

“Thanks.” He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Feels weird, though. Like, I don’t think it’s hit me yet that I’m actually done with college.

“Four years of studying will probably do that to you,” you replied, chuckling.

“Four and a half for me,” he said, shaking his head.

You just nodded, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. A comfortable silence settled between you. It was nice seeing him, but now that you were talking to him, you realized you really didn’t have anything in common that you could talk about. You weren’t in the same circle of friends, nor were you particularly close. The only connection you had with him was Donghyuck.

“Hey, uh…” You saw hesitation flicker across his face before he offered a small smile. “I heard about Mykonos, Donghyuck and… everything.”

“Oh.” You froze, huffing a small laugh. “Yeah. That happened.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. I’m fine. I’m fine now. I wasn’t but, I am now,” you explained, not wanting to divulge more. You didn’t want to ask. You could’ve just left it at that—just another casual encounter with an old neighbor. But before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“How is he? Donghyuck…”

Mark shrugged as if he was expecting you to ask that. “He’s fine, I think. He’s studying there and actually putting in the work to get good grades. We text here and there, and I saw him when I went home after graduation. He looks the same, still insufferable and an idiot, but… he’s okay.”

A strange feeling settled in your chest—something between relief and disappointment. Mark must have sensed something because he tilted his head slightly and showed a ‘calling’ gesture with his hand. “You wanna—?”

“No.” You cut him off before he could even suggest it. “It’s for the best.”

Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Alright. Well, I’ll tell him you said hi.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. Take care, Mark.”

“You too.” And just like that, another piece of Donghyuck slipped through your fingers.

When you stepped into your apartment, the silence was almost jarring. No sounds of Jaemin humming to himself in the kitchen. No sight of him sprawled on the couch watching something ridiculous. The place felt... empty.

For a second, you thought maybe he was out. Then, you spotted his shoes by the door and figured he must be sleeping. Good. You weren’t in the mood to interact.

You went straight to your room, shedding your jacket and tossing your bag onto the chair. The moment you entered the bathroom, you turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as you pulled off your clothes. Under the spray, you closed your eyes, tilting your head back as the warmth soaked into your skin.

Donghyuck.

It hasn’t even been a year, yet somehow, it felt longer than that. You used to be neighbors. It used to annoy you when Donghyuck brought girls over, when the sounds of them having sex echoed faintly through your walls. That was before you knew what it was like to spend an entire summer with him—before you knew what it was like to fall into something messy and thrilling and impossible to forget.

You exhaled sharply and shut off the water. It was enough to know that he was doing well. That he was living his life properly. You weren’t hurt by what happened anymore, surprisingly. But a part of you still wished you were able to talk to him before he left. You deserved a proper goodbye. Especially with the scars left by that fateful event.

“Tragic,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the scar on your elbow.

The bathroom was still warm with steam when you stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around your body. Water dripped from your damp hair, trailing down your shoulders, but you barely noticed. Your thoughts were still in the past. You needed something to calm your nerves. Maybe tea.

You crossed the hallway to the kitchen, moving straight to the overhead cupboard. You stretched up on your toes, fingers barely grazing the box of tea on the top shelf but you couldn’t get it. Annoying. You tried again, straining a little harder but then suddenly, something brushed against your back.

You stiffened, breath catching as you turned only to find yourself face-to-face with Jaemin. Or rather, face-to-chest.

He had stepped up behind you so quietly you hadn’t even noticed, one arm reaching past you to grab the tea. His other hand rested against the counter beside you, blocking you in without even realizing it.

Your gaze flickered up just as he glanced down, and that’s when you realized how close you were. He was close. Really close.

His face was just inches from yours, close enough that you could catch the familiar scent of his detergent mixed with something distinctly him. His chest barely touched yours, but you felt every shift, every breath. The towel around you suddenly felt too thin.

Jaemin held the tea between you, as if just now realizing the way you were staring at him.

But instead of taking it, you asked, “Do you remember the time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

You caught the small shift in his expression. Surely he’d know which specific time you were talking about right? If he remembered that kiss at all, surely he wouldn’t be confused and assume you were talking about all the times you’d played seven minutes in heaven?

But his response came quickly and with certainty. “I do.”

Your eyes traced his features, noting the way his gaze flickered downward to your chest, a split-second slip before he caught himself and turned his head slightly, jaw tensing. Your chest rose with a shallow breath.

“Did you know that was my first kiss?”

Jaemin was still looking away, but you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “I think you mentioned it,” he admitted.

Your fingers twitched before you lifted a hand to his cheek, your palm grazing the sharp line of his jaw before settling at the curve of his neck. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and his pulse was steady but strong.

“Then why did we both forget it ever happened?” you asked softly, eyes fixed on his lips, so close and so inviting.

Jaemin finally met your gaze. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he stopped. His eyes lowered, and when he looked at you again, his expression had changed.

“I didn’t forget.”

The words sent warmth through you. Your heart pounded in your ears as your fingers pressed lightly against his skin. Something about the way he was looking at you made it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. So you did the only thing your body seemed to understand at that moment—you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his lips molding against yours, deep and persistent. Heat prickled at your skin, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tugged him closer for more. His grip on you was firm and possessive, and for a moment, nothing else mattered but the way he was kissing you back.

Then a voice in your head screamed at you to stop.

You pushed him away, breathless, panic creeping into your heart as your hands pressed firmly on his chest. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

The words came out fast and desperate, but it sounded more like a statement to yourself than to him. Jaemin backed away, studying your face as he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he breathed, and you weren’t sure if he meant it because it was impossible to read the expression on his face.

Either way, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You held your towel in place and walked away.

Jaemin didn’t argue. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and hurried away, leaving behind the forgotten tea and the line you’d crossed to the point of no return.

The next morning, you did what any sane person would do—you pretended last night never happened.

You took your time getting out of bed, hoping that by the time you stepped into the kitchen, Jaemin would be gone. No such luck. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking relaxed and unbothered, like he hadn’t kissed you breathless in the kitchen less than twelve hours ago.

You ignored him. Moving around the kitchen, you focused on your routine—heat up leftovers, pour yourself some water, avoid looking in his direction. But you could feel his gaze on you, lazy and knowing, like he was waiting for something.

When you reached for a mug, his voice cut through the quiet. “The tea’s in the drawer. In case you want it.”

Your fingers twitched. You didn’t turn around, didn’t react, but you heard the insinuation in his tone, the meaning hiding between the lines. Still, you said nothing. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction

Later that day, you met up with your friends at the quad, lounging on the grass as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky. The conversation was light and fun, and for a moment, you were free from the clutches of Jaemin’s infuriatingly charming grin.

That is until he came strutting in with Renjun, drinks in hand.

Renjun handed the drink one-by-one. He’d asked if you girls wanted something from the cafe while he was there, so you texted him your orders. But now that he was handing you the iced tea you asked for, you hesitated to accept it.

“I’ll have coffee instead,” you said, pushing the drink back toward him.

Renjun frowned. “What? But you asked for iced tea? Honey lemon, right?”

Yes, right. But that was before you knew he’d be coming back with Na Jaemin. “I changed my mind.”

Jaemin, who had been watching the exchange, chuckled under his breath. “You don’t want your tea?” You shot him a warning glare, but he only smiled. He took his coffee and held it out to you instead. “Here, you can have mine. I’ll take the tea.”

You didn’t want to take anything from him, but declining again would make it obvious. So you exhaled sharply and snatched the cup from his hand, ignoring the way he grinned. Then, just as you took a sip, Jaemin said,

“You sure you don’t want your tea? You seemed pretty desperate for it last night.”

You nearly choked. Your grip on the cup tightened as heat flared up your cheeks. Jaemin only sipped his drink, looking perfectly fine while you struggled not to just go ahead and strangle him.

Before you could say anything, Giselle, who had been oblivious to the tension, turned to the group with a casual, “So, what were you guys like in high school?”

Karina, clearly picking up on her intention, hummed in thought. “High school me? Pretty boring, honestly. I was too busy studying to get a proper life.”

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t get kissed in high school?”

“I did, of course. But not as much as I wished,” Karina replied, shaking her head. “My first kiss was because of a dare.”

“So is mine,” Giselle added, glancing sideways at you. “It was with my crush, but I stopped liking him after because he was such a lousy kisser.”

Then she turned to Jaemin. “What about you? Do you remember yours?”

You froze, realizing right then what they were doing. They had promised to help you figure out if Jaemin remembered that kiss all those years ago. And judging by the direction of this conversation, this was the help they meant. Not that it was necessary anymore. You had already asked him yourself.

But you couldn’t exactly tell them that. So you stayed silent, waiting, heart pounding a little too fast as Jaemin leaned back on his hands.

And then, he looked right at you. “I don’t remember my first kiss, exactly,” he said smoothly. “I do remember kissing someone recently, though.”

Your stomach dropped. His words sent a jolt of something hot through your veins—half panic, half something you didn’t know you’d feel for your best friend. You stared at him, pulse thundering in your ears, as his lips curved into the slightest smirk.

You were going to kill him.

But not right now. You were gonna take your time and kill him with no witness. So for now, you kept your distance. Even as the day stretched on, even as Jaemin hovered near, you refused to acknowledge him. When it was his turn to talk, you busied yourself with your phone. When he laughed at something, you pretended not to hear. And when it was finally time to head home, you walked ahead, ignoring the way he naturally fell into step beside you.

He didn’t say anything about it. Not once did he call your name or try to slow you down. At the apartment, you swung the door open and stepped inside first, not bothering to hold it for him. You kicked off your shoes, tossed your bag onto the couch, and started toward your bedroom.

But then he called your name and that made your patience snap.

“What is wrong with you?” you huffed, gesturing at him.

Jaemin’s voice was teasing, “What? What did I do?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You keep bringing it up.”

Jaemin didn’t even blink. “Bringing what up?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You know what.”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I really don’t.”

You scoffed, stepping closer. “The kiss, Jaemin. You keep hinting at it. You were so obvious, you might as well have just announced it to everyone.”

Jaemin simply shrugged, the smirk on his lips irritating you more. “I wasn’t obvious. You’re the only one who noticed.”

“Why were you doing it in the first place?” you demanded, stepping right into his space. “I told you, that kiss didn’t mean anything.”

Jaemin’s gaze flickered. He stayed quiet for half a second too long before he closed the gap between you. You stepped back, suddenly nervous at how close he was being. He kept at it, stepping closer while you stepped back until your back hit your bedroom door.

“If it didn’t mean anything,” he said, voice slow and teasing, “why are you so worked up about it?”

You didn’t have an answer to that, and he knew it. He was watching you too closely, too carefully, catching the way your lips parted, then closed again.

So you did what you always did when backed into a corner. You brushed it off. “Just forget it ever happened,” you muttered, looking away.

Jaemin studied you for a second, then exhaled through his nose. “No.”

“Yes!” you insisted.

There was a long pause. Then, he sighed like he wasn’t happy about it but was willing to let you have this. “Fine.”

“Good.” You turned back toward your door, gripping the handle with a sigh of relief. But just as you started to push it open Jaemin tugged your wrist lightly, just enough to make you turn slightly toward him.

Eyes gleaming mischievously, he asked, “Wanna do it again?”

Heat shot up your cheeks, exasperation and something dangerously close to exhilaration rushing through you despite the fact that you should have been pissed.“Stop,” you said, exasperated, shoving the door closed in his face.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you muttered, slapping your palm on his chest and shoving the door closed in his face.

Only to rip it open a second later.

Jaemin barely had time to react because you quickly grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was deep, hot, and feverish. Jaemin responded instantly, hands firm on your waist as he backed you against the doorframe, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

It was intoxicating, dizzying—the way he kissed, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this. But just before the moment took over completely, you pulled away, catching your breath.

Jaemin stared at you, lips parted, chest rising and falling. You stared into his eyes, then at his lips, biting your own as you savored the lingering sensations he’d left behind.

“You liked that?” he teased, catching the way you were looking at him. Flustered, you swallowed and quickly stepped back into your room, locking the door behind you before you could do something reckless again.

You leaned against it, heart racing, lips tingling, your skin still burning from the way he touched you. Then you heard him chuckle softly on the other side before he rapped his fist on the door, the sound startling you.

“You kissed me first, alright?” he called out, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice. “So you better not skip dinner because of this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting back a smile. Then, with a quiet groan, you slid down to the floor, pressing your hands over your face and kicking your legs in the air as you tried your best not to squeal.

You told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. But then it did. It started small, so small that it was easy to pretend it was nothing. Like that morning in the kitchen when you were making coffee, and Jaemin leaned against the counter beside you, too close, as always. He watched as you poured sugar into your mug, his gaze intent and knowing.

“That’s too sweet,” he commented.

You paused, the spoon clinking against the ceramic. “It’s not. You just like yours bitter and sad.”

Jaemin hummed in amusement, then he said, “I like my coffee bitter, but I’ve been told many times that my kisses are very sweet.”

You scoffed, taking the spoon out of your mug and turning to raise an eyebrow at him. “You telling me you’ve kissed lots of people isn’t really convincing me to kiss you again.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to convince you yet,” he replied, grinning playfully. Without warning, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. Then he leaned forward to press a soft peck on your cheek. “This is me convincing you.”

You stared at him, unimpressed, and took a step back with your mug. “Not working.”

Jaemin only smirked. You sighed, turning away to grab some bread from the overhead cupboard. The moment your fingers came up short, he stepped in behind you, reaching for it easily. You exhaled at sudden feeling of a deja vu.

He held it out casually. “Here.”

But when you reached for it, he pulled it back—just far enough to make you glare at him—before swooping in and stealing a kiss from your lips.

You froze, still gripping your coffee. Jaemin, meanwhile, took your other hand, placed the bread in it, and patted your head like nothing had happened. Then he walked away whistling, leaving you standing there, mildly annoyed.

You recovered quickly though, placing the mug and the bread on the countertop and trudging toward him with heavy steps. Jaemin noticed and turned to look at you with that stupid smirk he always had.

“Oh, hi. What are you—”

You grabbed his collar and pulled him down, cutting him off with your lips pressed firmly against his. It was deep and reckless, but only for a few seconds. When you pulled away, Jaemin looked shocked.

And then he smirked. “Oh,” he mused, tilting his head. “So now you’re playing my game?”

You scoffed, tightening your grip on his shirt. “What game?” you asked before kissing him again.

And from then on, it was like a challenge. In your shared apartment, in the moments in between, in the spaces where no one was watching—you both kept crossing that line, over and over again.

A stolen kiss behind the bookshelf at the library. A lazy makeout session in the empty hallway of your apartment when you both got home late. A whispered “You drive me crazy,” before Jaemin kissed you stupid against the fridge door one evening, his hands firm on your waist, your fingers tangling in his hair, neither of you stopping until the timer on the microwave beeped.

And through it all, neither of you ever talked about it. Because if you did—if you admitted how much you wanted it—you wouldn’t be able to stop. If you acknowledged what was really happening, you’d have to stop pretending that it was nothing. That it didn’t mean anything. And that was something you weren’t ready for.

And then there was that night on the couch.

It had started with an old movie playing on the TV, both of you sitting closely and sharing a blanket. Jaemin had his arm on the back of the couch, fingers idly playing with the strands of your hair. It was harmless at first, but then his fingers trailed down the back of your neck, light and slow, and you felt goosebumps all over your body.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, only to find that he was already staring at you. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were dark and focused. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Jaemin was faster. His fingers tipped your chin, tilting your face toward his as he leaned in.

The first kiss was soft, almost hesitant. But then you sighed into it, melting just enough for him to take control. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, and before you knew it, you were on your back, Jaemin hovering over you without breaking the kiss.

The movie was forgotten, its noise fading into the background as the sound of your shallow breaths echoed in the room. His kisses trailed lower, grazing your jaw, all the way down to your throat. You gasped when he found a spot just beneath your ear, his teeth nipping at it before soothing the bite with his tongue.

“Jaemin,” you murmured, your fingers slipping into the back collar of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath.

“Mmh,” he hummed against your skin, not stopping.

His hands were already sliding under your sweater, warm against your bare skin. Your legs parted beneath him, your body arching into his touch before you could stop yourself.

And then when his hand dipped down to your lower abdomen, you tensed. Not because you didn’t want it, but because you did. Too much. Jaemin must have felt it because he paused immediately. His lips hovered over your collarbone, his breathing unsteady, before he finally pulled back just enough to look at you.

His voice was low when he asked, “Should we stop?”

You swallowed hard, nodding against your wishes. “Yeah. We probably should.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. His hands were still on you, your fingers brushing his back, and it would’ve been so easy to pull him back down, to let him keep going. But then he exhaled, forcing himself to sit up, and you followed, scooting to put a little space between you.

The movie was still playing, though neither of you paid it any attention. Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you with a half-smirk, though his voice was rough when he spoke.

“We’re really bad at pretending this is nothing, you know.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head as you folded your legs beneath you. “You’re right. It’s ridiculous.”

And just like that, it was over. For now, at least.

There was a strange feeling in your chest lately, something you couldn’t quite put a name to. Like the rush of something new, conflicting with the pressure of something unresolved.

You had spent the past weeks trying not to think too hard about Jaemin, about the way your lips kept finding his, about how easy it was to pretend nothing had changed when, deep down, you knew everything had.

But pretending only worked for so long. Because no matter how much you tried to move forward, some things still followed behind you. Some things still had a hold on you, however faint. And just as you were starting to believe you had left it all in Mykonos, there he was.

Donghyuck.

Standing just outside the campus gates, hands in his pockets, bouncing lightly on his heels with an impatient look on his face, as if he’d been standing there for a long time now. He was waiting for someone, but the moment his eyes landed on you, his face broke into a wide grin.

And just like that, all the hesitation that had been creeping up inside you disappeared. You ran across the quad toward him. “Hyuck!”

His laughter was warm as you threw your arms around him, his embrace just as familiar as you remembered. He still smelled like summer—bright, musky, and reckless, even in the cool autumn air.

“I was waiting here expecting you’d ignore me,” he teased, pulling back to look at you. “I would’ve chased you down if you did, though.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back, but there was no denying the way your heart ached a little. Not in the way it used to, but in the way that happens when you reunite with someone who once held every piece of you in their hands.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you at all,” you admitted. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Why else would I be here if not for you?” Donghyuck said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not here to get back together or anything. Not that you were expecting me to.”

You let out a small chuckle, but he wasn’t wrong. That thought had never crossed your mind. “You wish I want you back, don’t you?” you teased, making him laugh.

“Do you have time? Can we talk?” he asked, motioning outside the gates.

“Absolutely,” you replied without missing a beat, following after him.

You walked from the campus to the nearby cafe where you ordered food and spent the first few minutes laughing and talking about stupid things. Then the conversation turned serious, which was not something that often happened between the two of you, but you listened to what he had to say anyway.

“I really, really wanted to stay and wait for you to wake up,” he began, referring to when you had a coma after being run over by a car. “But it was out of my hands and I haven’t been on my best behavior for the longest time so… that was the last straw. My parents were furious and Hyung had no choice but to send me back.”

You bit your lip, nodding. “I figured you weren’t allowed to contact me after that?”

“Oh, I wish it was only that,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Because then I would have had chances to contact you in secret. But I wasn’t allowed any electronics at all. Not a phone, not even the computers at uni. I could only meet my friends at home and their phones are confiscated before they even step into the house.”

You winced. “That’s awful.”

He sighed. “You have no idea. I was going nuts! They put me in rehab too for my drinking problems.”

“You had drinking problems?”

“I have drinking habits that they didn’t like so they saw it as a problem.” He chuckled, flashing that boyish smirk you used to hate but had grown to love. “What about you? How are you doing? I heard you skipped a semester?”

“Well, moving on from something that major wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” you replied, laughing at your own expense. You told him what had happened after that summer. How you came home heartbroken and sad. How you had to get therapy because you were showing signs of depression. How you moved on from it all but still didn’t know how to properly live the life you used to have before that summer. It was a six-month battle and it had been ten months since that fateful summer, but looking back on it now, it felt so much longer than that.

“I’m glad I came. I owed you an explanation, so I had to find a way,” he said, his voice softening. “And I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Something in your chest tightened. You had spent the past months wishing that fate would at least grant you this—closure, a proper goodbye. And now that it was here, it felt like a load was being taken off of your shoulders.

“I’m doing okay,” you said honestly. “And thanks… For coming, I mean. And for being safe.”

Donghyuck smiled wistfully. “I have Taeyong Hyung to thank for that. He convinced our parents to let me come. Told them I needed to ‘learn from the field.’” He made air quotes, then dropped his hands with a small shrug. “Truth is, he just wanted to help me see you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything, Donghyuck grinned. “Guess I’m still the guy who gets what I want, huh?”

You laughed despite yourself. “Looks like it.”

“Yeah. Not all the time now, though. Just sometimes.”

It was strange, this conversation. Maybe time really does heal everything, or maybe you were already healed on your own before today. Either way, as you sat there with Donghyuck laughing, catching up, and looking back on the wildest days of your youth so far, your heart felt lighter and the world seemed to shine brighter with his smile.

“That’s my ride,” he said at one point, looking outside the cafe. You followed his gaze and spotted Taeyong standing by the curb, leaning against the car, waiting.

You turned back to Donghyuck, feeling just a tiny bit sad that this chat was almost over. “Well. I guess this is it.”

He nodded, watching you carefully. “Don’t forget me, okay?”

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t think I could if I tried. This scar right here spells your name out,” you quipped, pointing to the scar on your elbow which you got from the accident.

Donghyuck reached to feel it, his touch gentle and warm. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you said, watching his solemn expression. “I got it after you saved me, so, thank you for this.”

Something passed through his eyes, something unreadable that he masked with a smirk. “Yeah. Not really exciting. I’m more used to leaving bruises on your neck than scars that don’t disappear.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Sucks to be you. You won’t be leaving bruises on this neck anymore.”

Donghyuck made a show of clutching his broken heart. “What have I done?” he whined, fake-crying.

That made you laugh, and in the quiet that followed, you reached forward and squeezed his hand, offering him one last comforting smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too,” he murmured, squeezing your hand back.

As you both stepped out of the cafe, you turned to Taeyong, who gave you a small nod, like he knew what this moment meant to you. “Thanks,” you told him sincerely.

He didn’t ask questions, just nodded again and slipped into the car with Donghyuck. You watched them drive away with a comforting sense of fulfillment blooming in your chest. Then you noticed a presence appearing beside you, and you didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

“You good?” Jaemin asked, peering down at your face.

You chuckled, linking your arm through his as you started walking. “I’m fine. We had our closure. He’s okay, and I’m okay. So I’m fine.”

“Good. I was just asking to make sure you didn’t break down crying,” he teased.

You scoffed, hitting his arm. “That’s right. Make fun of someone’s heart ache. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Jaemin grinned, giving your hand a small squeeze. The moment passed, fading into the rest of your day.

You weren’t sure when it started feeling different. Maybe it was after the first time you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. Or maybe it was in the moments in between, the ones that had nothing to do with kissing.

But the kissing didn’t stop. It was easy to blame it on your body. That was the logical answer, wasn’t it? You hadn’t had any action in a while, and now Jaemin was right there, warm and solid, tempting and willing. The way he kissed you made your skin burn, made your stomach flutter, made you crave more. It had to be that. Just chemistry. Just a reaction to touch and proximity—a biological response, if you please.

And yet, in the late hours of the night, when you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, it was never just the stolen kisses that stayed in your mind.

It was the way he always waited for you after class. The way he pulled you to the inside of the sidewalk when you walked together, his hand pressing lightly against your lower back. The way he noticed when you were exhausted and handed you a water bottle before you even asked. The way he listened intently whenever you spoke, no matter how insignificant the topic was.

Jaemin had always been like this. Thoughtful. Gentle. Attentive in ways no one else was. But now, it made you wonder, was it really just because you were his best friend? Or had he always seen you more than just a friend and you were just too blind, too caught up in your own world, to realize it?

It bothered you more than you wanted to admit. It followed you through every sneaky kiss, every whispered tease against your lips, every smirk before he kissed you breathless against some forgotten corner of your apartment. Until, one day, it became too much.

Jaemin was being especially affectionate that afternoon. Not in the usual teasing way, not in the way that led to secret kisses or knowing glances. He was just doting. Leaning close, brushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. Making sure you weren’t too cold, giving you his jacket before you even noticed the cold. He smiled at you like you hung the damn stars, his eyes soft and fond.

And you snapped. “Can you please stop acting like my boyfriend?” you blurted, voice sharper than intended.

Jaemin froze, his hands pausing in the middle of adjusting your sleeve. His brows lifted just slightly, before his expression carefully smoothed over.

“Right,” he said lightly like it was no big deal. But his hands dropped from you, and his gaze grew colder.

You expected him to say something else, maybe throw out a cocky remark, maybe push back. But he just stepped away, nodding like he understood, and left you standing there without another word.

And for some reason, that felt worse than if he had argued with you.

Maybe it was for the best. For the next few days, you and Jaemin kept a comfortable distance from each other. No more stolen moments hidden from other people’s eyes. No more lingering touches. No more knowing glances. You admit it was hard to get used to it, but it was better that way.

One afternoon, when the sun was gentle enough for you to hang out at the quad, and the atmosphere was just like every other day with the usual campus chatter, students huddled in groups, couples hanging out by the benches, laughter echoing from clusters of friends. You were walking with Karina, listening to her rant about an upcoming exam, when something caught your eye.

Jaemin.

He stood a short distance away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, a relaxed smile on his lips. Beside him, a girl laughed at something he said, her head tilting back slightly, short blonde hair falling over her shoulder. She was pretty—undeniably so. And Jaemin was watching her laugh—amused, warm, unbothered.

“Who’s that?” The question left your mouth before you could think twice about it.

Karina followed your gaze and made a noise of recognition. “Oh. That’s Minjeong.”

You blinked. The name was vaguely familiar, but not enough for you to immediately place it. “Minjeong?”

Karina turned to you, looking genuinely surprised. “You know, Winter? Jaemin’s ex. You seriously don’t remember?”

Oh. That Minjeong.

You remember her now. She was the girl he had dated last year, the one he had broken up with after a short while. You hadn’t paid much attention to her then—Jaemin had simply told you they didn’t see eye to eye, and you hadn’t questioned it. He never seemed all that affected by the breakup, so you figured it hadn’t been anything serious. But now, standing there watching them, a strange thought lodged itself in your mind. Jaemin lied.

Because right now, they looked like they were seeing eye to eye just fine.

You swallowed, looking away before you could overthink it any further. Karina, thankfully, moved the conversation along.

“By the way,” she started, narrowing her eyes slightly, “what’s up with you and Jaemin?”

Your head snapped toward her. “Nothing.”

She gave you a skeptical look. “Really? Because you two seem kinda distant lately. Did you fight?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Because technically, you hadn’t. “There’s no reason for us to fight.”

Karina hummed, unconvinced. “Okay. That’s even more suspicious.”

You frowned. “How is that suspicious?”

“Because you and Jaemin always come up with things to fight about,” she said simply. “If you’re not overly clingy, you’re fighting about something minor. It’s always one or the other.”

You exhaled sharply. “We didn’t fight. And we’re not distant. We’re just being… friends. Like usual.”

“Okay, let’s just say I believe that and you’re not very suspicious right now because I have a feeling you’d snap at me if I push your buttons,” said Karina, stepping back a little.

You rolled your eyes, brushing her comments aside. She wasn’t wrong. You and Jaemin were either attached by the hip or fighting, no in between. You bickered, pushed and pulled like it was second nature. But lately...

Lately, he had given you space. After what you’d said to him, after the way his expression had cooled and he had simply left, he had kept his distance. And somehow, that felt worse than all the arguments in the world.

It was cliché at this point. Your life wasn’t some rom-com flick, but it seemed to be thriving on predictable storylines. Like right now—just when you were struggling to figure out what to do about this whole mess with Jaemin, of course, someone had to show up to stir things up.

Admitting you were jealous was the last thing you wanted to do. Because doing so meant admitting that you liked him as more than a friend. And acknowledging that meant defeat. You didn’t like defeat. Love and relationships had defeated you several times before. You weren’t about to let it happen again.

And yet, there she was. Minjeong—Winter—whatever people called her now. She was pretty. Endearing. Adorable, even. The kind of girl that made it impossible to dislike her. And that just made it worse.

She was likable. Genuinely likable. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate her, which would have been easier. But that didn’t change the fact that seeing her next to Jaemin made something twist in your chest

And Jaemin? He looked… happy? That smile, the way his eyes crinkled as he watched her laugh at something he said. It was the kind of look you’d seen a hundred times before, but right now, you hated it. Right now, you wanted to forfeit your pride, march over there, and pull him away from her.

Which was stupid. You were being stupid. You took a deep breath, shaking off the thought just as you passed their table.

“Lunch?” Jaemin offered casually, as if he weren’t sitting there with his ex.

You barely spared him a glance. “No, thanks,” you said curtly, your voice colder than you intended. You walked past him and went straight to your friends’ table.

Karina raised an eyebrow when you plopped down across from her, stabbing your fork into your food a little too aggressively. “So… that’s a ‘no’ to talking things out?” she asked dryly.

You exhaled sharply, refusing to look back at Jaemin’s table. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you muttered.

Karina hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Right. And I’m Beyonce’s daughter.”

You weren’t proud of it, but your mood had been awful all week. You snapped at Renjun over something trivial, ignored Jaemin’s messages, and couldn’t focus in class because every time you blinked, you saw her—Winter, laughing, tilting her head toward Jaemin like he was the most interesting person in the room. And Jaemin? He was eating it up.

You buried yourself in your studies, submitting assignments ahead of deadline, studying for quizzes, and doing advance reading. You used to hate presentations, but you were thankful for having one because you had something to keep your mind off of things.

But at the end of the day, when you were done with everything and fatigue was catching up to you fast, all you wanted was a familiar, comforting presence to keep you sane. Giselle and Karina were unavailable. Renjun might be free but you weren’t close enough to hang out with just the two of you.

Jaemin was your only choice. Not that it was because you were out of options, in fact, he’d always been the first choice. So when you finally caved and texted him, you were completely caught off-guard by his answer.

You: Are you free? Nana: No.

It was a simple response. Nothing inherently wrong with it. But it didn’t come with an apology, or an I’ll see you later, or even a What’s up?—just No.

And that stung, squeezing painfully at your heart. But what really did it was seeing him a few minutes later, leaving the library with Winter, laughing at something she said.

You were sitting on the steps just outside the entrance, waiting for Giselle, when you spotted them. Jaemin had his hands in his pockets, casual and unbothered, while Winter gestured about something, her voice cute and teasing. They stopped a few feet away, still talking, and you had a front-row seat to the easy, unhurried way Jaemin listened to her, the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

He looked like he had all the time in the world for her. Not even a few minutes ago, he had been too busy for you.

You sat there, gripping your phone, overthinking every possible meaning behind this moment. Had he chosen to spend time with her instead? Was he making some kind of decision without telling you?

And then, as if he could sense someone’s eyes on him, Jaemin turned his head, his eyes landing on you.

Your heart leaped to your throat. This was it. This was the moment where he’d see you, where he’d realize you were right there, waiting. Where he’d excuse himself and come over because that’s just what Jaemin would do.

Except… he didn’t. He looked at you, waved with a smile, then turned back to Winter and kept walking.

The impact was immediate, a slap to the face without ever being touched. You didn’t even realize Giselle had arrived until she waved a hand in front of your face. “Earth to you. Are you okay?”

You exhaled through your nose, keeping a neutral expression. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You stood up, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets, willing yourself not to look back. But Giselle had seen exactly what you had been staring at.

“Huh,” she mused as you both started walking. “Didn’t expect that.”

You sighed. “Expect what?”

Giselle jerked her chin toward Jaemin and Winter. “Them, hanging out again. I thought they ended things on bad terms.”

Your fingers curled inside your pockets. “You knew about them?”

Giselle shot you a confused look. “Of course, I knew. You did too. She used to give Jaemin hell for always hanging out with you.”

Your steps faltered. Right, there was that. If the two of them were together trying to rekindle their old relationship, of course, she wouldn’t want Jaemin hanging out with you. She used to hate it before, and she had no reason to like it now. Especially if she knew you and Jaemin had crossed the line.

But knowing that made you angrier. Why would he try to get back with his ex just days after being rejected by you? Was Jaemin always like this? Fickle and move on to the next girl as soon as he was done with one?

You knew you were overthinking things. You knew Jaemin wasn't that kind of guy. But the thought still made you seethe.

Jaemin was waiting when you got home. You barely glanced at him as you kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag onto the couch, your exhaustion amplified with irritation. You had spent hours at the café, helping yourself to a single drink, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, trying (and failing) to distract yourself from the mess in your head.

“Where were you?” Jaemin asked, his voice casual. “Had dinner yet?”

You didn’t look at him as you walked toward the kitchen. “Out. And I’m not hungry.”

Jaemin, of course, didn’t let that slide. “Out where?”

You opened the fridge, staring blankly at its contents. “Why do you care?”

Silence. Then, slowly, carefully, he said, “Are you mad? You sound mad.”

That did it. The way he said it like he genuinely didn’t know, like he couldn’t possibly fathom why you might be upset, snap the tiny thread holding your patience together. You shut the fridge door, finally turning to face him. “Why would I be mad, Jaemin?” you said, voice cool, almost mocking. “It’s not like I expected anything from you.”

Jaemin blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.” You crossed your arms, your pulse hammering. “I asked if you were free. You said no. And then five minutes later, there you were, walking out of the library with your ex-girlfriend who used to hate my guts. Laughing, smiling, acting like you had all the time in the world.”

Realization dawned in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, so you pushed further, your voice gaining an edge. “So forgive me for assuming I wasn’t worth squeezing into your very busy schedule, and getting mad about it.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Are you serious?”

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I promise you, I’m dead serious.”

“You’re mad because I was with Winter?”

“I don’t know, Jaemin, should I be?”

His expression darkened. “Oh, come on. You know what that was.”

“Do I?” You shot back. “Because from where I was sitting, it looked a hell of a lot like you choosing her over me.”

Jaemin stared at you, his jaw tightening. “That’s not what that was! You’re jumping into conclusion and it’s not fair.”

“Neither is you acting like I’m supposed to be fine with being ditched without so much as an explanation! You’re the one who acted like you’d literally combust if I so much as disappear from your sight, now you pick someone over me like I’m nothing?” The words came out louder than you intended, echoing in the small space between you.

The silence that followed was loud and suffocating. Jaemin took a step closer, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “You’re the one who told me to stop acting like your boyfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but he wasn’t done yet. “And now, what? You’re mad that I did?” He tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “What do you want?”

You wanted to yell at him. To push him away. To tell him he was an idiot for not knowing, for not seeing. But you had to stop yourself. Because to answer that question, to say the words out loud, meant admitting the truth. And you weren’t ready for that.

So you did what you always did when things got too real. You turned away. “Forget it,” you muttered, moving to walk past him.

Jaemin didn’t let you. Before you could take another step, his hand caught your wrist, yanking you back just enough for you to stumble into him. His arms caged you in, backing you against the counter. “Jaemin—”

“Tell me.” His voice was low, his face inches from yours. His grip on your wrist wasn’t tight, but it was firm, keeping you there. “Tell me why you’re mad. Or I’ll make you.”

Your breath hitched at the promise in his tone. Your heart was hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it. And then, before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “I was jealous, okay?”

The second the confession left your lips, you saw the glint of relief in his eyes. His grip loosened, but he didn’t pull away. He just stood there, watching you with a smile threatening to tug at his lips.

Heat crawled up your neck. “You knew,” you blurted out and the smirk he was concealing finally revealed itself.

He knew and he just wanted you to say it out loud. Annoyed, you tried to twist out of his hold, but Jaemin was faster. He caught your face in his hands, tilting it up, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“You’re jealous?” he echoed softly, like he needed to hear it again to believe it.

“Na Jaemin, I swear to god—” He didn’t let you finish. His lips crashed against yours, stealing whatever excuse, whatever deflection you were about to throw out. It wasn’t like the other times. It wasn’t teasing, wasn’t playful. It was urgent, consuming, an answer to every question you refused to ask.

You gasped, and Jaemin took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, pressing you further into the counter. One hand slid down, gripping your waist, the other tangling in your hair. You should have stopped him. Should have shoved him away. But instead, your hands found his shoulders, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless. “You’re jealous,” he said again, softer this time.

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shirt. “Shut up.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Winter and I… we—” He paused, searching for the words. “It’s not what you think.”

Your stomach flipped. “It better not be,” you scoffed, hiding behind the mask of nonchalance. Jaemin chuckled.

“I wasn’t choosing her over you.” His fingers brushed against your cheek. “We got paired for a group project and we’ve been working on it all week. Earlier when you texted me, we were heading out to submit it.”

You stared at him, still breathless, your mind scrambling to process what he just said. A group project. That was it? That was all it was?

The weight in your chest lifted so suddenly that you nearly laughed at yourself. The past week—your overthinking, your jealousy, the way you’d lashed out at him—had all been over something so stupid.

“Oh my god.” You shut your eyes, mortified. “You’re kidding.”

“Wouldn’t joke about this,” said Jaemin laughing. “I’m sorry, I should have explained it at least.”

You groaned, dropping your forehead against his shoulder. “I’m actually gonna die of embarrassment.”

He chuckled, his arms wrapping fully around you now. “Yeah? Well, you should know I’d never choose anyone before you. There’s no one above you, silly.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend, Jaemin,” you chided, pulling back to glare at him. “You can’t just put me first over everything.”

Jaemin only smirked, his fingers tightening at your waist. “I don’t want a girlfriend. You’re all I want.”

“Don’t say that,” you muttered, burying your face in his chest. “What if I can’t reciprocate?”

“Well, you were jealous of me and my ex,” he murmured, his tone teasing, but there was something else underneath it—something smug, satisfied. “That’s a good start.”

“Oh my god, enough!” you huffed, pushing him away and trying to escape his hold but he was quick to lift you by the waist, setting you down on the counter.

Before you could argue, before you could even think of something to say that would salvage your dignity, Jaemin kissed you again, lips moving against yours with a heat that sent your mind spiraling. His hands held you firmly, one on your waist, the other cradling your face like he was afraid you’d pull away.

You weren’t pulling away. That fact alone should have set off alarms in your head, but right now, you didn’t care. Not about pride, not about the mess between you, not about the fact that this was probably the worst way to handle your emotions.

Just as you were starting to get consumed by the heat of his touch, Jaemin pulled away and you scoffed before you could even think twice about it.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered against his lips.

Jaemin exhaled a breathless laugh, looking up at you with that handsome grin he always had on. “And you’re stubborn.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, his voice lower now, rough with restraint. “I thought you didn’t want me acting like your boyfriend.”

You swallowed, your heart beating wildly as you met his gaze. “I don’t,” you whispered, slipping your hand inside the collar of his shirt to rub his back. “But I still want you.”

Jaemin went still for a split second, his grip tightening. “Say that again,” he said—no, he pleaded, eyes glassy with desperation and desire.

“I want you, Jaemin,” you obliged, swallowing shyly.

His mouth crashed onto yours, all restraints melting away. The kiss was deeper, messier, a collision of breath and want, like he was finally letting himself feel everything he’d been holding back. You barely had time to process before he wrapped your legs around his torso, lifted you from the counter, and carried you across the apartment into his bedroom, his body hot against yours.

His hands skimmed down your waist, sliding under the hem of your sweater, palms warm against your skin. His lips moved down to your jaw, then lower, lingering at the soft spot beneath your ear. Jaemin groaned when you arched your hips against his crotch, his grip on your hips tightening like he was holding himself back—like he was still trying to be careful. But you didn’t want careful. You wanted reckless.

You tugged his shirt off, fingers tracing the smooth lines of his back as he pressed you down into the mattress. His lips were feverish, moving with a desperation that sent heat pooling low in your stomach. When he pulled back to look at you, his pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling like he was struggling to catch his breath.

“Let me.” His voice was rough, hand sliding down your thigh. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers found the waistband of your shorts, toying with the fabric like he was waiting for permission, but you just spread your legs wider.

He cursed under his breath before his lips were on your throat again, trailing lower, his hands already working to get rid of the last pieces of clothing you both had. Every touch was hot as he whispered promises against your skin—promises he was more than ready to keep.

He lowered himself, head disappearing between your legs. He took a sniff, nose pressing against your sex before he licked a stripe on it.

“Jaemin,” you breathed, your entire body burning with anticipation and want.

Jaemin responded by sucking at your cunt, making you gasp as the first bout of pleasure washed over you. He kept at it, lapping and licking, fucking you with his tongue while you writhed and moaned. You clutched your fingers at his hair, wanting so much to push him away, but you kept pulling his face closer for more.

He rose to meet your gaze at one point, with a smirk gracing his lips, making you lose your mind further because of how hot he looked.

“If you keep shouting like that…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your lips as his finger slipped into your sex. He kissed you again just when you were about to moan. “...the neighbors will hear and they’ll know.”

You didn’t care, but you covered your mouth anyway, biting your lower lip as well to make sure you weren’t too loud. Jaemin moved his fingers, in and out, curling and pressing, all while watching every shift in your reaction. When he pushed another finger inside, you failed to stifle a gasp, your hand flying to his arm and squeezing it tightly.

“Shh,” he shushed gently, kissing you once before he went down on you again. And he took his time, teasing, tasting, dragging out every moment until you were trembling beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders in a feeble attempt to not lose your mind at the mind-blowing orgasm that washed over you.

Jaemin kissed you again as he positioned himself between your legs, his manhood prodding your entrance. “Tell me you want this.”

Your hands found their way on his chest, feeling the firm muscles, the way his stomach tensed at your touch. You nodded, still dazed, already losing yourself in him.

“Use your words, baby,” Jaemin coaxed, his voice a little uneven now, like he was barely keeping himself together.

You reached to cup his cheek. “I want this. I want you, Jaemin,” you whispered, and his answering curse was swallowed by your lips as he kissed you again.

His lips on yours muffled the gasps you let out when he slid his manhood in—rough despite the wetness of your orgasm, stretching you impossibly wide. “You okay?” he asked, voice strained with concern.

You nodded quickly, overwhelmed, and he kissed you again, swallowing your soft whimper. “Relax for me,” he whispered soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

He moved with a patience that contradicted the way his body trembled against yours, like he wanted to take his time, like he was memorizing every sound and expression you made. His hands traced along your ribs, slow and reverent, before sliding down to your thighs, gripping them with just enough force to make your breath hitch. His movements were steady, his thrusts heavy as he pounded into you.

“You feel so good,” he breathed against your lips, his voice wrecked. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

You barely had time to respond before he kissed you again, deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. His hands slid higher, exploring every inch of exposed skin, setting your nerves on fire. When he started ramming harder, you let out broken gasps and whimpers, and that sound had him gripping you tighter.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, lips brushing along your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

You swallowed, eyes rolling back as you held onto him for dear life. “I don’t know,” you admitted in a ragged voice, but Jaemin just hummed, nipping lightly at the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

“Yes, you do,” he coaxed, straightening up on his knee and gripping both of you thighs as he tried to plunge in as deep as he could. “You want this.”

“Harder,” you managed to croak out, shutting your eyes as he drove you further into the edge.

Jaemin hummed, and you could picture the smirk on his lips. “Harder, yes?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, desire clouding your judgment. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised before obliging.

Every touch, every kiss, every reassurance had you melting beneath him. He was everywhere, and you wanted more of him. Needed more of him. He gave you everything. He kissed his way down your body, slow and reverent. Every time you gasped, every time your breath hitched, he murmured against your skin—

“That’s it, baby.” “You’re so beautiful like this.” “Let me make you feel good.”

And you did. More than you ever had before. And when he finally pushed you past the point of no return, you realized—he had always been there to catch you. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as Jaemin exhaled a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against yours before collapsing above you.

The silence between you was jarring. It was the kind silence that didn’t belong in a space that had only ever been filled with teasing, bickering, and laughter. The sheets were tangled between your legs, your skin still warm from being touched by Jaemin. But the aftermath of the warmth that had consumed you moments ago was heavy.

Regret wasn’t the word—not exactly. But uncertainty sat heavily in your chest, and you hated it. You exhaled, staring at the ceiling, before finally voicing the question that had been gnawing at you since the haze of desire dissipated. “What now?”

Your voice came out quieter than expected. You turned your head to look at him. “Why did we do this? What if we ruined everything?”

Jaemin was propped up on one elbow, watching you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. He didn’t look the least bit conflicted. If anything, he looked like a man who had finally gotten what he wanted.

He smiled. “Baby, we were done the moment you kissed me in front of that fridge a few weeks ago. This friendship? It ended right then and there.”

You swallowed, trying to make sense of his words. “I never wanted to be friends with you anyway,” he added, voice soft but unwavering. “Did you forget that?”

You hummed. “Isn’t that kind of a betrayal, though?” You searched his face, looking for something—an answer, a reassurance, maybe even a reason to argue. “You’ve loved me all these years, and here I was, thinking you were my best friend.”

Jaemin’s eyes darkened, but not in the way they had earlier. This was something more profound. “I do love you,” he admitted. “But not all these years.”

Your heart lurched painfully. “What—”

“I liked you when we were younger,” he clarified, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. “But we became friends, so I let it go. You were happy with other people, and I was happy being the one who stood beside you.” He exhaled, the tension in his grip loosening. “I only realized I loved you now. Not because I was waiting, not because I was hoping, but because tonight, you looked at me the way I used to look at you.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The way he said it, so simple yet so profound, left you at a loss. “You’re so cheesy,” you muttered instead, forcing lightness into your tone.

Jaemin only chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s okay. I know you’ll love me anyway.”

It was sweet. He was sweet. And for a split second, you wanted to believe in the warmth of this moment, in the possibility that maybe you could finally have something good.

But then reality sank its claws into you, dragging you back down. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not now. Maybe not ever. Your heart still bore the scars of past failures, of love stories that had ended in ruins. You didn’t trust yourself to make this work, to not destroy something before it even had the chance to grow.

You couldn’t risk it. Especially not with Jaemin, your best friend, your emergency contact—the one person you knew would have your back no matter what happened.

The hesitation must have shown on your face because Jaemin’s expression shifted. He didn’t look disappointed. He didn’t even look surprised. If anything, he just looked patient.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, stroking your cheek. “You can take your time.”

Your throat tightened. “And if I never push through with it?”

Jaemin smiled, something achingly fond in his gaze. “Then I’ll still be here. And I won’t hate you for it.”

That was the thing about Jaemin. He never asked for more than you were willing to give. And somehow, that made you want to give him everything.

Jaemin didn’t hesitate when he asked for his right to act on his feelings. He promised he wouldn’t push too far, wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want, but he wanted to be able to touch you, hold you, kiss you when he felt like it. And for some reason, you didn’t push him away. Maybe because deep down, you liked it too much. Maybe because it was easier to indulge than to fight it.

So you let it happen. You let him linger closer, let his hands find yours whenever you were within reach. You let yourself fall into his presence, allowing the way he touched you to become something you expected, something you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it out loud.

Mornings changed first. You got used to waking up to the press of his body against yours, to the weight of his arm over your waist. He was always warm, always impossibly comfortable. Jaemin, who once used to be the one dragging you out of bed, now found excuses to keep you there.

If you tried to get up, he’d pull you right back, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. “Five more minutes.”

You’d roll your eyes, and push at his chest, only for him to hug you tighter, murmuring something about how you smelled too nice for him to let go yet. You always huffed at him, but you never actually pulled away.

Jaemin took care of you in the smallest, most effortless ways. Your coffee was already waiting for you before you even asked. On mornings when you slept in, he’d slip into your room just to leave a cup on your nightstand, the smell of roasted beans waking you up before the sunlight even had the chance.

When you cooked together, he always found ways to touch you. Guiding you from behind when you stirred the pot, his hands sliding to your waist like it was second nature. He’d taste whatever you were making and hum in approval, then kiss the side of your head just because.

He always looked at you like that too, like you were something precious, something his. And you let him.

The little touches never stopped. A hand on the small of your back when he passed by. Fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ear. When you got too focused, too lost in your work, he’d lean in and press a quick kiss to your cheek, just to remind you that he was still there. He did it so casually, so confidently, like touching you was as easy as breathing.

But it wasn’t just at home where things changed. At school, Jaemin was just as affectionate. He sat closer than usual, his knee bumping against yours under the table, his hand resting on your lower back whenever he leaned in to speak. He stole sips from your drinks, stole bites of your food, stole every excuse to touch you in ways that, had anyone been paying closer attention, would have looked like something far more than friendship.

But no one noticed. Because, to them, you and Jaemin had always been this way—close, affectionate, orbiting around each other like you were both integral parts of each other. No one questioned it when he pulled you onto his lap during movie nights at Giselle’s place because it was easier than sharing the small couch. No one batted an eye when he draped an arm over your shoulders at lunch, absentmindedly playing with your hair as he listened to Karina talk about weekend plans. Not even Giselle, who usually had a sharp eye for these things, suspected anything when Jaemin took your bag without a word and slung it over his shoulder, carrying it for you.

You could feel it though. The way Jaemin’s touches lingered just a second longer than they used to. The way he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he whispered your name sometimes, like it was something he was still getting used to saying with affection and love.

You caught yourself looking for him. When he wasn’t home yet, you listened for the sound of the door unlocking, for his familiar voice calling out to you. You never used to notice it before, but now, your shared space felt off without him in it. And when he was home, you never questioned why it felt better.

One night, you slipped up. You were half-asleep, curled up against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you gently. And maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the warmth, or maybe it was just him, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Don’t go. I'll be lonely without you."

Jaemin stilled. Then his arms tightened around you, his lips pressing on the top of you head. "I’m not going anywhere."

And that was how you lived—entangled in something unlabeled, something neither of you tried to question or define. He didn’t ask for more. You didn’t push him away.

Nana: You’re fine with getting new housemates, right?

You frowned at your phone. You asked him to get groceries, and he’s talking about getting housemates?

You: No. Nana: Not even gonna ask who they are first? You: Doesn’t matter. The answer is still no. Nana: That’s unfair. You should at least meet them before deciding. You: It’s my apartment. I get the final say. Nana: you mean, OUR apartment.

You: I still get the final say. Nana: What if I just bring them over for a quick dinner? No pressure, just introductions. You: I don’t see how that changes anything. Nana: You might change your mind. You: I won’t. Nana: … Nana: So that’s a yes to dinner?

You sighed, already regretting your decision.

You: Fine. But it’s still a no. Nana: Noted.

About an hour later, you heard the front door open and close, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jaemin kicking off his shoes. You looked up, expecting to see him with, what? Two guys? A couple of friends in need of a place to crash? Instead, Jaemin stood in the doorway, grinning like a kid who had just done something he wasn’t supposed to.

In his arms was a fluffy cat with wide, curious eyes. Another poked its head out of the bag slung across his chest. And at his feet, a third cat rubbed against his legs like it had already claimed him as its personal human.

You blinked. “Jaemin.”

“Yeah?” he asked, completely nonchalant as he set the cat in his arms down on the floor.

You gestured at the trio of kitties now sniffing around your apartment. “What the hell is this?”

Jaemin crouched to scratch behind the ears of the one that had been circling his ankles. “This,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “is Luna, Lucy, and Luke. Our new housemates.”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Jaemin finally looked up, smiling at you in that sweet, boyish way that usually meant he had done something ridiculous but wanted you to let it slide. “They needed a home.”

“That’s not an answer.” You pointed accusingly at the one sitting on the couch now, making itself comfortable. “Jaemin, we never talked about getting a cat. Let alone three.”

“I know.” He stood, brushing off his jeans. “But a senior from our department is graduating and she couldn't take them home with her. She was looking for someone who could adopt them, and I was only gonna get one but then she told me they’re siblings and have to stay together. And I just can’t leave them, can I?”

“So you thought bringing all three of them home was a good idea?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice to that soft, coaxing tone he always used when he was trying to win you over. “You love cats.”

“That’s not the point.”

“They love you already,” he continued. “Look.”

You felt something nuzzle against your leg. Looking down, you saw Luna—Luke? Lucy? Whatever—purring up at you, their big round eyes full of innocence. Your heart softened, but you refused to let it show.

Jaemin noticed anyway. His smirk was triumphant. “Oh, they are sooo staying.”

You sighed heavily, pouting with your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I hate you.”

Jaemin laughed, leaning in to kiss your temple. “No, you don’t.” Then he hugged you from behind, squeezing you gently as he watched the cats now making themselves comfortable in their new home. “So, should we get them matching collars, or is that too much?”

Your last semester of college came too soon, slipping through your fingers like the pages of a book you weren’t ready to close. Life moved forward whether you were prepared or not, and with it, your friends were the first to step into their next chapters.

Karina and Giselle walked the stage that spring, struggling to keep their caps in place as they jumped into each other’s arms. Renjun beamed as he shook hands with professors, looking a little smug in his honors sash. Even Jaemin, who always brushed off big moments like these, cracked a self-satisfied smile when his name was called. You cheered for them, clapped until your hands hurt, and posed for pictures, but there was no denying the way it felt watching them leave while you stayed behind.

The halls of NCIT felt emptier without Karina’s complaints about deadlines and Giselle’s dramatic reenactments of campus drama. But Jaemin was still there. He hadn’t packed up and left like the others. While everyone else dove headfirst into their careers, he stayed, taking time off instead of immediately stepping into the expectations waiting for him outside college walls.

His days were spent taking care of you, spending time with you, helping you with homework, and piecing together his photography portfolio, and somehow, you became the centerpiece of it.

“Look at me.” Jaemin’s voice was soft but insistent as he crouched in front of you, camera in his hands.

You huffed, tearing your gaze away from the book you weren’t really reading. “I am looking at you.”

He clicked his tongue. “No, you’re glaring at me.”

“Because you’re being annoying,” you retorted. Jaemin grinned, completely unaffected.

“Let’s try that again,” he said. You sighed but gave in, letting your eyes meet the lens, expression softening just a little. He snapped the photo immediately, and from the way his face lit up, you could tell he got exactly what he wanted.

“Perfect,” he murmured, flipping the camera around to show you.

You tried not to let it get to you, but there was something about the way he saw you, how his lenses captured you as someone important, someone loved.

The cats were an extension of the both of you, curling up on Jaemin’s chest when he sprawled on the couch, purring on your legs when you stood in the kitchen. Jaemin spoiled them rotten—Luna got her favorite sunspot by the window all to herself, Lucy got head pats on demand, and Luke had claimed Jaemin’s lap as his personal throne.

“Traitor,” you had muttered once when Luke chose Jaemin over you.

“They just love me more,” Jaemin had teased, scratching behind Luke’s ears with a smirk.

This was how things had been between you two. Ever since that night, the night you crossed a line you could never uncross, nothing really changed yet somehow, everything had.

Jaemin never held back anymore. He was more affectionate, more attentive, like he wasn’t afraid of pushing too far. He called you baby like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulled you into his arms whenever he felt like it, and pressed kisses to your forehead without hesitation.

He worshipped you in the privacy of your apartment, uttered your name like it would hurt him not to do so, touched your skin like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, ever kissed, and ever laid his eyes on. He loved you in and out, and you basked in his attention, his affection, and his unwavering loyalty.

Maybe you should have stopped it, maybe you should have told him to slow down, but the truth was, you liked it. You liked how easy it was, how warm it felt. You liked not having to question what you meant to him anymore.

And Jaemin never asked for more than what you could give. He let you take your time, let you figure it out in your own way. So you spent the rest of the semester like that, somewhere between best friends and something more.

When your turn to graduate finally arrived, they were all there—Karina, Giselle, Renjun, Ningning, everyone who had been with you through the years. They cheered for you just as loudly as you had for them, but it was Jaemin who stood out the most. He was impossible to miss, holding your bouquet like it was his accomplishment, snapping pictures as if he were paid to do it.

The ceremony was long, the speeches were boring, but it didn’t matter. You had done it.

It wasn’t until the reception that Karina’s eyes narrowed at Jaemin when he leaned over to fix your cap. “Baby, your tassel’s on the wrong side,” he murmured, adjusting it before you could react.

Karina gawked. “Did you just—? Did he just call you baby?”

Giselle nearly choked on her drink. Renjun gave you a slow, knowing smirk. You felt your stomach drop.

“What?” Jaemin blinked, completely unfazed. “I’ve been calling her that since earlier.”

“You have not,” Karina accused.

“Yes, he has,” Renjun said, crossing his arms. “You guys just don’t listen.”

Giselle let out a scandalized gasp. “Oh my god. Were you guys—? Since when?”

“I’m gonna get more food,” you blurted, grabbing Jaemin’s wrist and dragging him away before anyone could interrogate you further. He let you, chuckling under his breath.

Later that week, when the celebrations died down and you were finally hauled the last box of your stuff outside your apartment complex, you glanced back at NCIT right across the street and thought about the years you had spent in this place, all the moments that had led you here.

The late-night cramming sessions, the spontaneous road trips, the heartbreaks, and the reckless decisions. Every piece of your college life was shaped by the people who walked it with you.

Giselle, Karina, and Ningning, your constants through every breakdown and triumph, who saw you at your worst and never let you stay there for too long. They made the ordinary feel special, turned bad days into bearable ones, and stayed no matter how messy life got,

Renjun taught you friendship and admiration. You haven’t heard from Yangyang for a long time now, but you’d never forget his cheshire cat smile and how he taught you to live in the moment. Jeno taught you patience and the importance of putting yourself first. What you had with Donghyuck ended before it had the chance to properly begin, but the memories of your youth will always have him in it.

Love in the eyes of a college student was everything and anything. It was stupid, it was dumb. It was exhilarating, it was euphoric. It was slow, it was fast. It was damning, but also freeing. Such are the highs and lows of college romances. At the end of it all, you leave it all behind and move on with your life.

“Baby!” Jaemin’s voice cut through your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at the sight of him waving happily and beckoning you over to his car. “Time to go!”

You took one last look at the campus that had been your whole world for the past few years, exhaling softly. Then you walked toward him, toward the future.

Because some things, you take with you.

You walked toward him, fishing your phone from inside your pocket. Jaemin leaned in to peer at your screen. “What are you doing?”

“Sending one last entry to Campus Confessions.”

“Campus Confessions? NCIT's confessions page?”

“Yes.”

Jaemin gasped. “You send entries to CC?”

“I do, sometimes,” you replied, getting into the car.

“For whom?” he pressed, sitting on the driver's seat looking perplexed and surprised. “Did you just send a last minute confession to a crush or something?”

“Start driving. We're way behind schedule as it is.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but didn't argue. You smiled as you watched him seethe in his seat, driving the car away from the apartment complex.

To: NCIT Long story short, I survived. - x

[fin]

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