#u seem very sweet and wonderful!
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dyrdeer · 11 months ago
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im sorry hes just like this :(
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deus-ex-mona · 4 months ago
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5am thoughts about how asuna is the same age as the gen 2 cast…
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
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Hey angel!! hope ur doing well!!
i was wondering if I could request roommate!marauders where they have crushes on reader buttt she already has a bf but he's just a total jerk.... and u sorta get the idea?? (if u haven't done one like this already)
much love!!! <3333
Thank you for requesting lovely <3
cw: douchebag boyfriend, marauders fancy reader but don't genuinely want her to cheat or end her relationship for them
(poly)roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
It’s heartbreaking how lovely you look first thing in the morning. Sweet, rumpled pajamas, plodding gait, sunlight stretching over features still soft with sleep. You raise your hand to cover a yawn as you enter the kitchen, eyelashes still drooping like they’ve weights sewn into them. 
“Morning,” you say on the tail end. 
“Morning.” James opens one arm to you. You step into the hug automatically, and he drops a kiss to your head, his own private indulgence. You’re eyeing the omelet he’s frying up with his other hand. “Want one?” 
“Mm, wish I could,” your voice is a somnolent mumble, “but Dale’s taking me to breakfast in a bit.” 
James tries not to react, but his hold on you stiffens some. From the living room, he hears Sirius scoff. “Oh.” 
“I’m sure your omelet would be better.” You pat his side, moving out from under his arm to go to the coffee pot. “We’re going to this cafe he likes, and they never have anything I want. Still, I can hardly show up full.” 
James feels himself frown. Typical of your boyfriend to take you somewhere you don’t even like. Perhaps he’s a tad biased, but James thinks you should eat one of his omelets and show up full just to teach him a lesson. 
He plates up the one he’s just finished. You tail him into the living room as he delivers it to Sirius, curling your feet up underneath you on the couch. Remus is sitting in the armchair reading the paper. He and James have already had their breakfasts, but you and Sirius are always the last up on weekends.
“Are you finished with the funnies?” you ask Remus. 
He looks up at you with a tenderness James doesn’t know how you can’t see. “Yeah,” he says, shaking out a page. “Here.” 
Sirius snickers at your choice of reading material as you reach across him for it. You nudge his thigh with your knee. “Bite me.” 
“Anywhere you’d like me to, babe.” He winks. 
You roll your eyes and fold the page to read, well used to Sirius’ flirting. Similarly to how he’d done with Remus, Sirius’ ill-advised tactic for winning you over involves alternating between taunting you relentlessly and acting like his affection for you is all one big joke. It only barely worked on Remus—James’ interference had been required there, and that was before he’d admitted to himself his own feelings for either of the two boys—so James doesn’t understand why Sirius would give it another go with you. 
“Oh.” Remus closes his paper, seeming to remember something. “I was wondering if you might have time to go with me to the farmer’s market this morning. We’re out of eggs, but I can’t haggle with the woman like you do.” 
You give him a sorry sort of smile. “I would, but Dale’s meant to pick me up at ten.”
“Oh, well.” Sirius rolls his eyes, chewing malignantly on a bite of omelet. “If Dale said he’ll be here at ten, then surely that’s what’s happening.” 
You bump his thigh again good naturedly. “Be nice.” 
James bites his tongue, and even Remus reopens his newspaper with a tad more vigor than necessary. Sirius is by far the most vocal with you about your boyfriend’s flaws, but your roommates all hate him. The guy’s a prick. James would never in a million years try to convince you to leave your partner for them—and despite Sirius’ joking, he knows neither of the other boys would want that either—but if you broke up with Dale, he would be very tempted to throw a party. 
James really doesn’t understand how someone like you could end up with someone so holistically unpleasant as your boyfriend. He’s rude, inconsiderate, he doesn’t express any gratitude for the sweet things you do for him, and he is never where he says he’s going to be when he says he’s going to be there. He shows so little regard for anyone but himself. If he told you he was going to pick you up at ten in the morning, he’s just as likely to arrive at three in the afternoon. Even for your half-hearted defense of him, it’s nearly ten and you’ve made no move to change out of your pajamas or get ready, because you know he won’t be here on time. It irks your roommates to no end to see you tolerate such poor treatment. 
“Maybe you can go with Remus to the farmer’s market,” you tell Sirius. “You seem like you could negotiate.” 
“Sirius doesn’t know how much eggs are supposed to cost,” Remus says idly. 
“Oi!” Sirius objects through a mouthful of omelet. “I do so.” 
James smiles at him. “Really. How much do you think eggs cost, love?” 
Sirius manages to take another bite while James is asking, so his mouth is conveniently too full to answer. 
“I can manage it on my own,” Remus says with indulgent fondness. “Dove, do me one favor, though?” 
You lift your coffee. “Sure.” 
“Don’t let him summon you outside with his horn again.” 
There’s a brief but thick silence while you finish swallowing your coffee and all three boys try not to look too obviously judgmental (Sirius trying the least, naturally). The purse of your lips reveals some embarrassment. 
Still, your voice comes out unconcerned. “It’s not a big deal to me. It’s not like we’re in school and I need him to come to the door and meet my parents. It’s a time saver.” 
“It’s rude,” says Remus gently. “You deserve someone who will come to the door for you.” 
James’ thoughts exactly. 
“Sure you don’t want some toast or something while you wait?” James asks, partly to dispel the tension and partly because he really does think you should eat something if Dale isn’t likely to be here until the afternoon. “You could call it an appetizer.” 
You stand with your emptied coffee mug, passing an affectionate hand over James’ hair as you move between his legs and the coffee table. “Thanks,” you say genuinely, “but I’m alright. I’m going to go get ready.” 
However eager James is to avoid the tension that comes from insulting (or, really, just speaking frankly about) your boyfriend, Sirius has no such concerns. “While we’re telling Dale things,” he says after you, “be sure to remind him that our flat has a three-strike roommate tears policy. Next time you come home crying, Jamie and I get to make a house call.” 
Your laughter echoes down the hallway. “Sure, I’ll let him know.” 
Sirius looks at James, perplexed. “Did I sound like I was joking? I was not using my joking voice.” 
James pats his leg consolingly.
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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lovscb97 · 10 days ago
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tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc
wc: 15.76k
add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]
nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons 
. . .
it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.
regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.
that is, until now.
you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—
chan.
but, not just chan, no no.
chan with another girl.
it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.
but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.
your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.
it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.
you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.
allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.
your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.
“y/n?”
a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.
“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
you think maybe that’s best for now.
. . .
it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.
grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—
oh fuck.
“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—
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“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.
what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.
unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.
karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.
fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.
because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—
the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.
your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.
you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.
it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.
oh, how the tables have turned, you think.
“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.
white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.
chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.
“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”
“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.
“listen, i—“
“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.
“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”
it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.
“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.
“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“
“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.
“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”
you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.
“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.
moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.
it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?
now, he’s definitely never going to be.
. . .
“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.
practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.
“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.
“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.
what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.
“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.
you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.
even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.
it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.
your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.
“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.
you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.
you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.
it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.
was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?
he did.
you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.
he cared. he had cared.
he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.
before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.
beep. beep. beep.
please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—
“the number you have dialled is..“
it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.
chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.
he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.
. . .
the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.
by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.
it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.
the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.
upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.
observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.
with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.
y/n.
your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.
y/n. y/n. y/n.
“y/n!”
your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.
..could it?
you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—
chan.
it’s chan.
chan is here.
“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.
“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“
“you came.”
chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—
“you called.”
that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.
chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.
“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.
he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.
“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.
“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.
“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”
that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—
“i love you.”
…what?
your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.
“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“
chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.
your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.
when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—
“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.
“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.
“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.
“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.
chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—
“let’s get out of here.”
. . .
by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.
“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.
“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.
“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.
“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.
“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.
“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.
“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak— 
“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him. 
“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat. 
his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.
chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.
“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.
your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.
“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down. 
“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.
“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him. 
a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes. 
“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.
this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words. 
“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.
“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell. 
chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish. 
because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.
“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.
“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.
“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible. 
“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly. 
your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway. 
“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment. 
sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now. 
“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.
“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.
“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.
chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you. 
“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.
“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.
“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation. 
a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it. 
“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.
on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes. 
“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible. 
“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 
chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly. 
“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“
now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.
“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe. 
“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan. 
“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly. 
“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
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willows-peak · 1 year ago
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*・゚✧ JJK Character's Fav Positions
tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, acute descriptions of cuddling, sfw and nsfw below the cut, the students aren't included in the nsfw portion dw
word count: expected 2.2k
a/n: im struggling with a geto wip so have this for tonight :3c i wonder if u can tell whos my fav to write
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⋆。˚ ♡ spooning: reserved for the clingiest of people, those who wanna feel your warmth no matter what, snuggled tight holding your back to their chest under a blanket and falling asleep to the slow breaths you make in your slumber
nobara: she's a girl with a very busy life, socially and academically, so when she finally gets to come home and relax into you, her back being embraced by you and held snugly to your chest as she sighs in content, she's as happy as can be. especially after a nice warm shower to wash the day's work away, curling up in bed in her jammies and taking a well deserved nap is all she needs. she gets very irritable if (god forbid) she cant be with you for a while
yuuta: he's a very sweet boy, even when sleeping. if u two end up cuddling, you'll somehow always end up being spooned, no matter how you two fell asleep. yuuta claims he has no idea how this happens, but youre starting to doubt him when you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and woke up with a snoring yuuta behind you. though, you dont have it in you to push him away, considering the way he grumbles and reaches out for you until youre back in his arms
getou: while he wasn't the one to initiate being the little spoon, that seems to be the role you gave him when you first started sleeping in the same bed. even while he was relaxed, his back muscles seemed to entrance you enough to want to stare at them while he slept. he wasn't surprised or offended at your reasoning of course, quite the opposite. you were fueling his already huge ego so how could he deny you? now, he'll rest with the feeling of your deft fingers combing through his hair, while your other hand was running across the bumps and crevices of his back.
⋆。˚ ♡ hugging: for the cuddling enjoyer who also wants to smoosh your face with their chest. legs tangled together, the comforting scent of your shampoo in their nose and their hand gently cupping the back of your head
gojo: speaking of the clingiest man alive. he treats you like a stuffie half the time while you two sleep, hugging you tight to his chest and having your face buried in the crook of his neck while he snoozes away. much like yuuji, the pressure of you against his body helps relax him, but unfortunately for you, that means this 6'3 man squeezing you as tight as possible and stacking on blankets on top of your combined bodies. let's hope you two live somewhere cold
inumaki: he always slept in fetal position before you two started dating, so this was just naturally how you two began cuddling. inumaki either slept at 8 pm sharp or he'd still be awake when you got up in the morning, so who was cuddling who was never consistent. sometimes, inumaki slept with his arm thrown across your hip and his face squished against your side, and others he'd hook his arm around the small of your back and hold you while you slept
⋆。˚ ♡ head on lap: sometimes you don't wanna go all out with cuddling your partner, and for those occasions look no further than the thigh pillow ™ for when you or your partner are too tired to move from the couch to the bed
maki: few words are ever spoken when you two do this. you could be catching up on your schoolwork, or talking with maki, or watching the tv, but often times you'll simply stop and roll over to lay on her lap, neither of you questioning or even batting an eye to it anymore. even when you first did it, there was only a moment of confusion in maki's face before she shrugged and continued talking to you
choso: when you asked him how he liked to cuddle one day, he shrugged his shoulders and answered with "whatever makes you happy." and while he meant it, you couldnt deny the pattern you noticed when you were lounging in bed, or sitting down, where choso would inevitably end up cozied between your thighs, his head resting on your tummy with his hand around your back. pro tip, he makes happy hums if you put your hand on his head
⋆。˚ ♡ head on chest: who needs blankets when you have a whole other person? the classic and well loved position that lets them hold u as close as they can, arm snagging around your waist and holding you tight as you drift into dream land
megumi: you may have thought this meant youre laying on his chest. nope. it took a while for him to open up with what he wanted with you, physically, but it very quickly turned into routine how he'd wordlessly crawl into your arms and flop down against your chest, grumbling incoherently when you asked him what was the matter. you'd sigh and resume whatever you were doing, combing through his messy hair until the soft sound of snores filled the room minutes later.
nanami: this man does not play around about two things, children and his sleep. he's very particular with how he rests, as in you *will* be with him while he sleeps, and you *will* be placed on his chest, held tight as he snored away. youre his wonderful break from monotony, a shining ray of sunshine in his cold and unwelcoming world, so forgive him for being clingy while he rests. though, this does come with the downside of him becoming restless if you're ever away. dont worry! he has a pillow with your scent sprayed onto it for this very occasion, just in case
toji: he wasnt huge on cuddling at first, both not used to it and finding it inconvenient to deal with if he needed to do anything at night. he didnt sleep well before you, and even if that hasnt changed, you snuggling up to him like a huge teddy bear at least gave him something to focus on in those sleepless fits he often has. on the rare occasion he sleeps before you awaken, youre extra careful to press a kiss to his chest as he silently rested underneath you
⋆。˚ ♡ in their lap: cuddling doesn't always have to mean sleeping, of course. sometimes its just a really really long hug with your partner. for times like this, curling up in someone's lap while you laze your time away sounds like a paradise
yuuji: at first, scooting you into his lap was just an easy way to keep you close while he had nothing else to do, arm secured around your waist while you either scrolled through your phone or talked to him about your day, the mundane things he loved about you. but, as he soon found, you on his lap added the extra bonus of pressure! a sturdy weight and warmth on his body, allowing him to relax and melt into you in those moments of silence shared between you two.
sukuna: lets just say you're lucky he's touchy at all with you. he'll tolerate surprise hugs or pecks on his shoulder, but the only physical touch he seems to ever enjoy is when you're slotted in his lap, free to touch and poke at whenever he pleases. you'd whine if he pinched your cheek, squawk if he pressed his nails into the meat of your thighs, glare at him if he groped your ass. all those lovely reactions are a fair trade for you scooting yourself into his lap and using his chest as a pillow, he deems
NSFW UNDER CUT!!! MDNI
⋆。˚ ♡ cowgirl: save a horse, ride a cowboy seeing you take control is unbearably sexy. pivoting your hips up and down on their dick while your hands grip at their shoulders, or having their hands grab at your ass while you slowly grind down against them. either way theyre yours for the taking
ino: a loveable, yet irritating trait of your boyfriend, is that he struggled to fuck you again after a round. you couldnt blame him, with how fast and hard he pounded into you and how he'd always make sure to hit your sweet spots until you were spasming and cumming around his cock. but when you werent satisfied just yet, he spared no time lifting you up into his lap, eagerly offering his cock for you to use as you pleased. and really, how could you pass up an offer like that?
getou: why should he have to do the work when you look this good riding him? his eyes never leave yours while you're bouncing in his lap, the slap of your skin against his backing up your huffs and whines of pleasure, looking at him so pitifully when he backs his hips down out of you. "you want more? come on honey, work for it. thaaat's right, move your hips just like that f' me" he'd egg you on so sweetly, smiling at your pout while you spread your legs and angled your hips to take him deeper inside
⋆。˚ ♡ doggy style: nasty mfs who live for seeing your ass jiggle with every thrust or slap they give you. the way your tiny waist arches down and your chest is pressed flat against the sheets while they're pounding away at you is unbeatable to them
yuki: behind every woman with a big ass is an even bigger strap, and yuki is the prime example of that. she loves to fuck you in front of a mirror in this position too, cooing at you for being so good at taking her dick while fucking you with aimed precision, making you look at yourself while shes thrusting deep inside you. its enough to make you melt into the sheets and wail at the onslaught of pleasure going through your body, but dont worry, she still has so much more to give you
⋆。˚ ♡ against the wall: can you say desperate? they love this position so much, sloppy makeouts that lead to pinning you against the nearest surface because they feel like they'll die if their lips leave yours for even a second
gojo: call him a showoff, because its true. in this position, he can show you just how small you are compared to him, size and strength wise. bouncing you up and down on his cock until your pretty head doesnt work anymore, seeing your eyes oggle his flexed arms and the space where he was fucking up into you. this paired with fucking you inside his office? his dick has never been harder. the thought of someone hearing how good youre getting fucked, coupled with your horrible attempt at muffling your cries and moans makes him so fucking turned on
shoko: shes a true switch, which means its a toss up for whos gonna be on the wall in this position. it all depends on her mood, and who shes had to deal with today. if it was a slow day at work, she'll happily make out with you and grind her knee into your crotch against the door of your apartment for as long as she pleases. though, if her day was more hectic, shes not so subtly grinding herself onto your lap and pressing her fingers into your mouth, sighing woefully about how stressed she is until she expectedly pulls out her fingers, waiting for you to offer yourself to help her
⋆。˚ ♡ 69: they love the competitive-ness of this position. being able to grab your hips and shove them down onto their flat tongue, getting harder when they can feel how much you're struggling to focus from their mouth. but when you grind down into their mouth while bobbing your head on their cock? hooh
toji: hes so mean when he has you like this.. ruthlessly bucking his hips up into your tight and wet throat, sloppily licking and sucking at you and twitching at the feeling of you gagging when he hits the back of your throat. you can barely move your head, your brain getting fucked out by toji's tongue and lips expertly taking you apart piece by piece. you never lasted long when he had you like this either, much to his delight. eagerly lapping up your cum while you moaned and hopelessly squirmed in his grip felt better than any orgasm hes ever gotten, though your throat comes at a very close second
nanami: nanami can at times forget this position is for the both of you, with how into it he can get. hes good about it at first, groaning into you from the way your tongue licks and swirls around his thick cock. but the more he tastes you, the more ravenous he gets with his sucks against you, licking up any stray wetness that threatens to fall down your thighs as the pace of your sucking slows and breaks. you can try to lift your hips away from his tongue, but good luck with that. the grip he keeps on your thighs is near impossible to break, even if your an orgasm or two deep into the session
⋆。˚ ♡ mating press: whispers of them others name falling right into their lips as their hips rock into you, thighs pressed tightly against your chests and your legs shaking on top of their shoulders. the closeness of this position never fails to rile them up, allowing them to see every little face you make, and hear all those noises they fuck out of you
sukuna: youre helpless underneath him, and thats the way he likes it. you can barely move around when his large, muscular frame is pinning you plush against the sheets of your bed, arms forced to clumsily hold onto his shoulders as he fucks you so deep, so harshly that you choke on your own breath from the power behind his thrusts. "sssuku-na, please, too mm-! is' toomuch, oh" your pleads fall on deaf ears, his thrusts never faltering nor easing up with their intensity.
choso: he honestly thinks he'll die if he isnt pressed up against you while hes fucking you. it all feels so intimate when hes got you with your legs bound to your torso from his chest, his thighs holding your body steady while hes all up in your guts. he feels so wonderfully deep inside you like this, hardly able to get out a full sentence from the way you squeeze and milk his long cock, crashing his lips into yours as tears start to well up in his eyes from how good it all feels
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ellecdc · 6 months ago
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hi! i absolutely love your works, particularly your poly!marauders(w/lily). i think you write them so beautifully and harmoniously that you can't help but fall in love with them.
i wanna compliment you on your recent two-parter about remus and the whole revealing the werewolf thing. the angst to fluff had me on the edge of my seat. thank you for writing such a piece! 🤍
i hope its not too much to ask but in part 1, there's a brief mention of sirius receiving letters from i can assume is his family that lily confiscates and the group tends to love on him a bit more. let's say reader isn't in the loop about sirius' family life and she feels a bit sad that she can't comfort sirius like the rest can, and in general feels lost because it's another thing she isn't 'let in on'. i was wondering if you could write a little something on that? maybe some misunderstandings with a fluffy ending?
i hope this is something you're ok w writing 🥹 if not, its ok! still wish u the best always!
this is so sweet - thank you! & thanks for your request - hope you like it!!
pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5
poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader who find's her own way to comfort Sirius - 2.1k
CW: brief mention of Sirius' childhood, allusions to anxiety, our shy Hufflepuff reader, hurt comfort, Sirius-centric
There was this saying that you never really understood before.
Love makes you do crazy things. 
And while the definition of crazy may be up for debate, you’re quite sure it could be understood as acting completely out of character.
So here you were, acting completely out of character; voluntarily marching towards a secluded end of the library where three Slytherin’s were sitting that you had - up until this point - managed to avoid completely. 
But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, avoid them any longer; not now, not for Sirius. 
The dust settled relatively well after the news of Remus’ lycanthropy had been shared with you; the five of you seemed to find a sort of freedom in not having to hide from one another anymore. Remus could be himself, the other’s could love him appropriately, and you could too. 
But another one of those black envelopes with  a green wax seal showed up at breakfast yesterday, and the group delved into their usual hide-the-envelope-and-coddle-Sirius practice. 
Lily took the envelope and disposed of it, James and Sirius had a floo call with the Potter’s, and Remus’ mum and dad sent baked goods from Wales via owl. 
You had since gathered that these letters were coming from his parents, or at the very least from someone in the Black family; you had also gathered that the contents of the letter’s were hurtful or upsetting to Sirius. And even though he never got to read them, a heavy cloud seemed to form and follow the young ex-heir around. 
And your heart felt heavy; not because they were keeping anything from you, per se, but rather because they seemed to have a routine that didn’t include you.
And while you didn’t want to encroach in spaces that you weren’t necessarily invited in, you couldn’t help but feel like you should be doing more. 
Lily, James, and Remus all had something they could offer Sirius; they all had some way that they could support him. 
You didn’t.
And it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, but rather that no one seemed particularly inclined to burden you with any negativity. 
“Don’t worry about me, babydoll; this is standard Black stuff. I’ll be just fine.” Sirius had said when you asked if he was okay; his usual salacious smile significantly dimmed as it seemingly took the majority of his effort in his response. 
The others hadn’t been much help either; Remus and James effectively telling you that you were too sweet to have to worry about such horrid people, and Lily trying to assure you that they had it under control and not to worry - Sirius would be okay. 
And that was all well and good, but it wasn’t enough for you - it was about sodding time you started pulling your weight in this relationship.
So - with nothing more than the teeniest bit of courage you were sure you pilfered from your four Gryffindors and perhaps a healthy dose of delusion - you forced your feet to take you in the direction of the only person in the entire castle you thought might possibly be able to help you. 
“My, my, my; to what do we owe the absolute pleasure, little Puffle?” Barty Crouch Junior mocked as you paused at their table; Evan Rosier and Regulus Black picking their heads up to look at you incredulously and bemusedly respectful. 
“Did ya get lost there, L/N? Need me to find you one of your Gryffindor’s?” Evan taunted, earning him what looked like a kick in the shin from Regulus, though you couldn’t be certain on account of the table impeding your view.
“Erm…I-I was sort of wondering if I could speak with you, Regulus?” You managed to murmur awkwardly.
The three Slytherin’s seemed to have a silent conversation as they shared glances before Barty shrugged and Evan rolled his eyes; both standing and leaving the two of you some privacy. 
Regulus watched as you cast a hasty muffliato around the table - another trick you’d picked up from the Gryffindor’s - and as you helped yourself to a seat with your boyfriend’s younger brother. 
“Is Sirius okay?” Regulus asked quickly, his voice no more than an urgent whisper as he looked at you imploringly.
His intensity caught you off guard; you were so certain getting anything out of the notoriously stand-offish Slytherin would be next to impossible, but he had beat you to the conversation and seemed to be just as worried about his brother as you were. 
You remembered then why you liked Slytherin’s so much; you often found a kindred spirit in them, for one thing that a Slytherin valued most was a sense of loyalty.
Well, didn’t you have enough loyalty to use to your advantage. 
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You wondered rather belatedly if you had overstepped. It was admittedly too late to ask yourself this now; standing outside of the boys’ dorm with a package in your hand.
What’s done is done. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
With this, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door.
It had been James to open the door; his jaw tense until he saw you, which seemed to cause his face to melt into an awkward expression you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Hi angel.” He greeted apologetically. “You okay?”
You were confused by his greeting, and his question, and the fact that he hadn’t moved out of the way of the door to invite you in as he usually did.
“I’m fine.” You responded quickly, trying to look behind him. “What’s wrong?”
James made a sound of discomfort in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder, still not moving to allow you entry. 
“Listen, sweetheart; I’m not sure now is a great time…”
“It’s Sirius, is it?” You asked quickly. His responding grimace proving your suspicions. “I need to see him.”
“Sweets, maybe you could come back la-”
But later wasn’t good enough, you see. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
So, in the name of love making you do crazy things and still acting completely out of character for you, you shoved your way past James’ hip, bending under his arm to allow yourself your own entrance to the boys’ dormitory. 
Lily sat at the end of Sirius’ bed where she had one hand resting on his ankle; her thumb stroking back-and-forth over his achilles tendon.
Remus sat against the headboard with Sirius in his arms; his lips pressed against his hair as he murmured sweet nothings to him.
And as you stepped closer, you could see an indent where James had been sitting, opposite of Lily likely serving the same support as your red-headed girlfriend.
“Siri?” You asked quietly, causing him to stiffen significantly before sitting up and feigning nonchalance.
“Hi doll.” He croaked then, wiping angrily at the tear tracks on his face and pasting on a smile. “Didn’t mean for you to see me like this. What’s up?”
You hated the faux blase act he was putting on for your sake, but you reminded yourself why you were here.
To help.
“I have something for you.” You offered quietly, procuring the parchment wrapped package and holding it out for him. 
“Awe.” He chuckled wetly with a sniffle. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“Well, I suppose I can’t take all the credit for it.” You replied, watching him pause in the process of opening to look at you in confusion.
“Open it.” You encouraged.
He finished ripping the parchment from the box before lifting the lid.
You felt your heart stop as the lid fell unceremoniously from his hands and a small gasp left his lips at the sight of the small, stuffed black cat sitting inside.
You’d spent the afternoon learning about the tail of two toys; Splash the cat and Padfoot the dog. The only toys the two young Black family boys were given came from their Uncle Alphard in the form of a plush cat and a plush dog; both with black fur as a nod to the family name and the boys’ hair colour. 
Even though Uncle Alphard had given the dog to Sirius and the cat to Regulus, the boys often traded, depending on their current circumstances. 
You learned that when Sirius went to Hogwarts, he had left with the cat. 
When he returned home after having been sorted into the wrong house, Regulus had given him the dog.
And when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts only to be ripped from his brother - possibly for good - after being sorted into Slytherin, he pilfered the dog from Sirius and left him with the cat.
They never discussed those plush toys again.
And when Sirius fled Grimmauld place one horrible night in June between fifth and sixth year, he left with nothing but his wand, the clothes on his back, and his school trunk.
Left behind was poor Splash the cat.
Regulus - fearing his mother would go on a warpath and completely destroy everything in Sirius’ room - quickly grabbed the cat and had kept it hidden in his school trunk ever since.
Until today. Until now.
Now, he left Splash with you; trusting that you would return him to his person, the one who needed him the most.
“How…” Sirius whispered as he quietly pulled the plush toy from the box; hands painfully gentle as if the toy would simply turn to ash should he jostle it. “Where did you get this?”
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tried to joke in an attempt to keep the moment light. Sirius simply turned his disbelieving gaze from the toy to you.
“You spoke with him?”
Suddenly, your fears that you had completely overstepped came flooding back; a nervous sort of nausea settling deep within your stomach that threatened to make this awkward moment horribly worse.
“I…I did- I didn’t say anything, of course! Because there was nothing to say, because I don’t actually know anything, which is fine too! I just…I couldn’t…well, you see, I just had to do something, you know? I couldn’t just-”
Your ramblings were (thankfully) cut off when the air nearly completely left your lungs as Sirius attached himself to your middle; his arms winding tightly around your body where they met in the middle of your back. You could feel the impression of Splash against your back from where he was still in Sirius’ grasp.
“I’m sorry if I upset you - I know it wasn’t my place, but-”
“You’re incredible.” Sirius whispered then. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”
“You’re not mad?” You whispered back, causing Sirius to pull away from you, only far enough to be able to look into your eyes with ill-hidden admiration. 
“My sweet shy girl; approaching Slytherin’s for me.” He murmured, causing Remus and Lily to snort and James to gawk.
“You did what!?” 
“You do know that a quarter of our school is made up of Slytherin’s, right?” You asked James then; Sirius pulling you back into his chest when you dared to remove your gaze from him.
“That’s entirely too many Slytherin’s, my girl.” James muttered, though he relented in his admonishment of you for your crime of daring to speak to your classmates in order to sit beside your other two lovers. 
“I can’t believe he gave this to you.” Sirius whispered; holding the cat up behind your back so he could examine it over your shoulder.
“He didn’t give it to me, Sirius.” You whispered back as you pulled away from him so you could look into his eyes. “You have a lot of people in your corner; more than you know.” 
His eyes seemed to well again, though he didn’t look nearly as heartbroken as he did when you first walked in, so you counted that as a win. 
“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” He asked then before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
You’re sure you could have counted at least seventeen ways in which Sirius Black deserved the nicest things you had to offer, but right now you were more focused on the feel of his lips against yours.
If love made you do crazy things, and those crazy things brought you to this; this being Sirius moulding himself to you as if he hoped he could make a home for himself inside of your soul, then you would happily spend the rest of you life mad as one could be.
You hadn’t fixed anything, not by a longshot; but you had helped, even if only just a little.
His lips tasted of salt and perhaps some sadness, but also of hope.
And for now, that was enough.
2K notes · View notes
linoveins · 7 months ago
Text
kitty keychains and pudding paybacks
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best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip
this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts
genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au
warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings
w.c.: 11.9k
a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.
you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.
the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.
minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.
“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.
“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning. 
“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”
“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.
he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi. 
you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.
after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his. 
by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks. 
as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice. 
you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin. 
like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.
gotcha, idiot. 
you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.
he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time. 
“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.
“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”
minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.
his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.
he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.
the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.
you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.
“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!” 
minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.
you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.
he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.
you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am. 
you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.
he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.
and yet again, there he was. 
you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon. 
you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that. 
the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.
grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.
he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..
“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.
“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”
minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory. 
you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.
of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.
he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.
“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.
90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs. 
you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart. 
you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there. 
both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.
some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you. 
seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”. 
he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway. 
you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.
apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something. 
he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.
when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.
and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.
minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night. 
he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.
he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.
“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.
“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you. 
“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”
minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.
after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy. 
jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning. 
changbin followed him that night to ask about you.
“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.
“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”
“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.
changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.
“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”
he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not? 
minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.
“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.
he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?
he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded. 
minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.
he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you. 
he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you. 
but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well. 
get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.
“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you. 
the pudding.
normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.
his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.
somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.
the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.
“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor. 
“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.
“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”
“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.
“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him. 
“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.
you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?
the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it. 
the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.
the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.
the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.
the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging. 
the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.
he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.
“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.” 
you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.
“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand. 
you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.
once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all. 
you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings. 
the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.
“nothing?” you ask and he nods.
“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”
minho raises his eyebrow at you.
“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.
“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.
minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.
“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods. 
you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.
“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.
“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”
“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries. 
it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come. 
there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.
you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture. 
you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.
stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice. 
you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him. 
from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it. 
he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.
he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries. 
“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.  
the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet. 
you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.
he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.
he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.
he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer. 
you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.
“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed. 
your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.
a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention. 
he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.
“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.
he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.
you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.
the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.
you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.
“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.
“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”
minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear. 
to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down. 
minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday. 
he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.
you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.
“marry me.” 
the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up. 
he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.
he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.
“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.
when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.
what the fuck?
you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.
the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either. 
marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.
but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.
he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth. 
by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief. 
minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets. 
you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his. 
he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.
“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.
when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.
“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.
you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.
“w-what?” 
“your keychains.”
“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”
he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.
“can i see?”
you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again. 
“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.
“r-really?” 
minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous? 
“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”
“you don’t have to bother, really.”
“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.
“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”
“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”
when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.
“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.
“yeah. i- yeah.”
you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.
“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude. 
“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”
the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves. 
it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so. 
he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that. 
he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it. 
you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push. 
you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.
“do you wanna get sma-”
“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.
minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.
“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.
“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-” 
“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.
minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.
“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.
“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.
“i… i think i love her.”
“you think?” 
seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions. 
minho groans.
“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.
“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”
it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.
“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"
“didn’t i just tell you?”
“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?” 
“i just told you i left.”
“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.
minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did. 
he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later? 
your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different. 
so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.
he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring. 
“i got it”, seungmin says. 
instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time. 
minho’s heart skips a beat. 
you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you. 
“i- i’m sorry-”
“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you. 
seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave. 
minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.
seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him. 
he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.
“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.
you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.
“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”
your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.
“you-”
“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.
minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.
“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.
“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?” 
he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.
“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.
“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”
minho grins while shaking his head.
“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one. 
goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”
minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.
“there. it fits perfectly.”
he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.
“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.
“shh. it’s okay.” 
he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”
he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.
“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly. 
the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.
“you don’t have to ask.”
“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.
“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck. 
your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.
you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.
“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing. 
“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”
he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.
minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder. 
to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you. 
he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.
apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.
you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.
“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”
minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes. 
“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.
“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher. 
“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”
you nod at him. minho smiles. 
“but i… i’m not sure-”
“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”
“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”
minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.
“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.
“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”
he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.
“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”
“i didn’t tell you it was with a…  woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.
minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.
“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.
“want you now.”
minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips. 
your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar. 
he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.
your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom. 
he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.
“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is. 
he removes his shirt and lays on top of you. 
he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.
he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth. 
when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head. 
“shit.”
his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was. 
“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.
“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”
he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content. 
at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.
minho lets go of your nipple and grins.
“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you
“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?
you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.
“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble. 
“yes”, you whined. “minho-”
he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.
he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.
“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear. 
your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.
“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”
you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs. 
“min-”
“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”
minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.
“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”
minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.  
your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt. 
“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”
you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix. 
he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.
“mm. there we go.”
minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would. 
he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open. 
one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.
you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient. 
minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.
“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.
“min- please. i’ll-”
“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.
he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.
you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable. 
he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive. 
“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.
he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.
“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?
“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”
“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form. 
he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.
“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.
“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask. 
you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway. 
he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty. 
“pull it out then.” 
with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes. 
he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.
“it’s..”
“hm?”
“it’s really pretty like you.” 
minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute. 
you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.
“baby”, he speaks in warning.
“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.
“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”
“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”
oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.
“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.
you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.
“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”
you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.
“yeah? you wanna play?” 
you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.
“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”
he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down. 
“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders. 
you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.
“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear. 
he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.
you just whimper and he laughs.
“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”
minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.
“shit, min-”
“you ready, baby?”
“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.
“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”
you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.
“fuck.”
you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.
“hurts, min.”
minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again. 
he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly. 
you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.
“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”
his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard? 
“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”
you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.
“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.
minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.
“so good, baby. you have no idea.”
“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”
“shit, feels perfect in here.”
“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”
“just a few more. still hurts?”
“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”
he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.
“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.
“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”
“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here. 
after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force. 
“shit, minho.”
“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”
minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.
“p-please go faster.”
“you sure?”
“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”
minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.
“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.
“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.
“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.
he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.
you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.
“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.
“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.
“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”
he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.
“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”
he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.
“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”
minho is so fucking mean. 
you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.
“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows. 
“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”
he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck. 
minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.
“you close, baby?” he huffs.
“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”
“hold it.” 
you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.
“min, i can’t-”
“you can.”
“no-”
“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”
minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.
“pleasepleaseplease-”
“cum.”
you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you. 
it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.
you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.
he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs. 
you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had. 
minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.
“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 
after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.
minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake. 
“sleep well?”
you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.
minho notices and laughs at you.
“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.
“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.
it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why. 
it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.
“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.
“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.
“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”
you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.
“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say. 
his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.
“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed. 
“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”
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a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!
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tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins
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shrenvents · 6 months ago
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Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️
A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)
Divided Attention
Professor Howlett II
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Part one
Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public
Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader
Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.
Word count: 2.6k
Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.
From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.
The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.
With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.
But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.
As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.
What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.
Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.
...
The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.
They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.
It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.
A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.
His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.
Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.
"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.
I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.
As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.
Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.
He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.
Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'
Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.
So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.
It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.
I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...
While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.
Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.
"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."
"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.
"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.
"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.
Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.
I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.
"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.
"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'
I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.
"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.
Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.
He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.
"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.
"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"
His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.
Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.
"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.
My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.
Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.
"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”
When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”
Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.
"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.
"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.
"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.
Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."
"I haven't been avoiding you-"
I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.
When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"
"And what?"
"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."
I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.
My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.
"What?" He bites.
"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."
Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.
"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.
"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"
The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.
"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.
I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.
For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.
"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.
Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.
"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.
Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.
"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.
A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.
Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.
“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.
I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.
My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.
Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.
"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.
Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.
"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."
Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.
"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.
He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."
I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.
My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.
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tacticalprincess · 7 months ago
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ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^
very im on fire of him
könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.
its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.
simon’s weird, quiet teammate, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.
he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.
“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”
after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”
“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.
“allow me—?”
“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”
his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.
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kisses4reid · 7 months ago
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missed it pt.2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - penelope brings a belated cake for you that leaves everyone guilty. what better way to say sorry then a belated party as well?
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, barely angst, fluff, forgotten birthdays and sorry’s
warnings - mentions of forgotten birthdays, being sad, crying, umm cake??? y’all not rocking w cake??? y/n uses she/her pronouns
w/c - 1.2k+
a/n - thank you for the request anon! the idea is perfect and so r u for requesting it, i rock w you
request - I was wondering if you were up for a part 2 of missed it???, maybe where someone on the team suddenly remembered that it was readers birthday, and tells the rest of the team about it ( maybe in the elevator, when they’re all heading home & reader left early or smth ). And Spencer’s like yea I went to see them yesterday & they were pretty messed up about it, and they all start to feel really bad, so they come up with a plan to set up reader a berlated surprise b-day party at rossi’s or smth, and reader cries because she’s never felt so loved and appreciated before!!
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Penelope scurried into the office with a leather red bag on her elbow and a large container that covered the lower part of her face. She peered over the plastic and scanned for the one person she was looking for, but instead she was met with a muscular man trying to suss out the tuperware that smelt amazingly sweet. "Hey babygirl," Morgan greeted with a smile, "You baked me a treat?"
Garcia walked further into the bullpen with Derek close behind her, "It's not for you, chocolate thunder. It's for Y/n." She replied matter-of-factly.
She placed her bag and the cake container on your empty desk and furrowed her eyebrows in the search for your presense which seemed to be absent.
JJ and Emily walked by with their cups of coffee in hand, joining Derek's confusion. Emily spoke up, "Why would Y/n need a cake?"
Spencer glanced then. He felt an unfamiliar rush of anger push him out of his chair. He bit the inside of his lip.
Last night, you had poured your heart out to him on the reasons you didn't tell others about your birthday, about much even. Would it be betrayal to expose you? Would it be kind? Spencer pondered as Penelope's mouth went agape in disgust.
She smacked each of the detectives on the arm, recieving groans and gasps from them all. "Are you kidding? It was Y/n's birthday yesterday. I was supposed to give her this yesterday but I was sick so..." Even a person like Penelope could read the subtle signs of regret on the profiler's faces. They screw their lips, glanced at each other - and Spencer - and didn't meet Garcia's eyes. Penelope sighed in anger and she started vocalising the very thoughts that were circling Spencer's mind.
"Are you guys serious? She worked 12 hours with each of you bozo's! And not one of you remembered? Not even a gift? Or a 'happy birthday Y/n'? You guys are unbelievable." She huffed and slapped her hand on the top of the cake container. "Where's Y/n?"
That's when the blonde turned to Spencer. "Uh- She went home early. She finished her paperwork pretty quickly." Emily, JJ, Morgan, and now Hotch - who had been wathcing from his office - all started packing up. Their cups of coffee were poured down the sink, and the sunshine was coming to a close. Spencer's hardened grip on his satchel was turning his knuckles white.
There they all were. Garcia's anger pouring out of her in determined and disciplining paragraphs about care and love and being a team, and Spencer's was pouring into his uneven breaths.
"I can't believe not one of you remembered. Not even Spencer! I mean-"
"I remembered."
The elevator went silent, the digital display counting down quickly. Spencer gulped and fiddled with his bag, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the memories of last night. Depressing, heart-breaking, beautiful. A lot of things happened last night. Some good, most bad.
"I went to her apartment last night with a cake. She was..." There was no lying to a team like this, "devastated."
JJ sighed, "We should do something."
Aaron nodded and brought out his phone, texting Rossi who also left early with you.
This week was full of tears and crying, snotty noses and new boxes of tissues. And today was no different. Though you promised yourself that yesterday was the last day you'd feel sorry for yourself, tears crept to your eyelashes even at the glass of the perfume Spencer had gifted you. It smelt amazing.
Your bed was a mess, your living room desolate and the kitchen long unused.
Today, you would get over it. You've gotten over it for years, why is this one any different? Is it because you thought you had found another family? Is it because Spencer proved people can care, but don't? Maybe it was because instead of wishing you happy birthday, you're father sent a photo of your sister's sports awards and asked why you didn't send her a congradulations text.
Today, you would get over it.
Today, I will get over it.
Your phone buzzed against your kitchen countertop as steam and the smell of onion and garlic filled your kitchen. You glanced, being met with a call from Derek, but being too slow to pick it up. And then suddenly there was a knock on your door.
You shut off the oven, wiped your hands on a cloth towel and tucked some loose hair behind your ears. Not only was this person interrupting a brand new recipe you had been reccomended, but also the reruns of your favourite sitcom. A sigh escaped you as you approached the door, preparing to explain that you were busy, but when you turned the doorknob you were met with deja vu.
Your team was beaming at you, all holding plates and bowls of various sweets and treats, as well as sandwiches and a large cake you assumed was decorated by Garcia.
"Happy Birthday Y/n!" They all screamed, not really in time but close enough to sound rehearsed. A smile slipped out from you as you laughed in shock. You felt your cheeks redden from the attention, feeling slightly uncomfortable and out of place, but you stepped aside to let them in anyways.
They hugged you, quietly and whole-heartedly apologised, and started setting up the surprise birthday lunch with Morgan's playlist filling the apartment. As Rossi passed he whispered, "Did you try that recipe I told you to try, the one I said at your belated dinner?"
Rossi was the only other person other than Penelope and Spencer to know your birthday. In fact, you two had the dinner planned for a week beforehand. You nodded with a smile and he joined the rest.
Spencer stood at the now closed door with a smile. He fiddled with the bottom of his sweater as he waited for you to turn to him, and when you did his hand latched onto yours discreetly. Your eye widdened slightly, gaze meeting his when he bent down slightly to whisper to you. "I wasn't sure if you would appreciate them showing up here but..." He smiled softly, "I think you deserve at least one good birthday."
Tears nearly brimmed your eyes before you heard your friends howl in laughter in the background, "Thank you, Spencer." A tear escaped you and he wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and his hold was tight with care, it made your heart stutter more than it already was. "Sorry," you giggled nervously and wiped your eyes. He gazed down at you and looked at you with confusion. "Why are you sorry?" "I'm crying at a party- A party for me." You said the last word like the scenario was a dream or seemingly impossible and it made Spencer's heart hurt. "That's okay, Y/n. As long as it's happy crying." He held your shoulders and rubbed his thumbs in comforting circles. "Yeah- Yes. I've just never felt this..."
You glanced at the crowd in your kitchen, full of people you loved and cared for. People you thought didn't care enough, but put an effort into a celebration that doubled as a massive and genuine apology for their mistakes. Nobody had ever said sorry to you for missing your birthday before.
"Loved?" Spencer's voice was soft as he finished your sentence. "Loved." You nod in agreeance, beaming at the tall boy so hard you felt like your heart was on display.
taglist (open!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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yuckiemouth · 1 month ago
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Ugh I miss u sex with Riki bro like him coming home from tour I’m frustrated
“I Missed You So Much”
“did you think of me every-time you masturbated in your dorm?”
After their ‘WALK THE LINE’ tour, ENHYPEN finally got the chance to fly overseas to reunite with their friends and family. Although the experience was exhausting yet enjoyable for all seven members, they could finally relax—at least until they navigate through the throngs of enthusiastic fans and paparazzi. The pushing, shoving, screams, and tears were finally behind them as they settled into their first-class seats—something they could now afford, escaping the usual chaos of being followed even in the air. Riki sat at the very back by the window, headphones over his ears, resting his head on a neck pillow as he settled in for some much-needed rest. A soft ding interrupted his music. Riki glanced down, picking up his phone from his lap. A message from Y/N, his secret girlfriend back in Japan, lit up the screen. It read: “I can’t wait to see u ❤️.”
A warm smile spread across Riki's face as he read Y/N's sweet text. He quickly typed out a reply, "Me too, baby. Can't wait to hold you again." His thumbs hovered over the send button, but then he hesitated. Better not risk getting caught by the others, especially Jake who always seemed to snoop around his phone. Riki deleted the message and replaced it with a more innocent one: "Miss you already! See you soon!" Satisfied, he hit send before putting his phone away and sinking deeper into his seat, letting the gentle hum of the plane lull him towards sleep once more.
His phone dinged again and Riki’s 100% sure Jake would’ve twisted his head and asked “who’s texting you so much?”, but luckily he was slumped next to the seats beside him with his mouth agape. Riki chuckled before snapping a pic, preparing to use it for blackmail. He quickly checked Y/N’s message and it read: view picture. He dubiously viewed the picture and he inaudibly gasped. Y/N’s shirt was lifted with her perky titties in frame with the letters blocking her nipples like a tease. “I really need you.” Riki felt a stirring in his loins as he gazed at the provocative photo, his eyes lingering on Y/N's tantalizing cleavage. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. Damn, she knew just how to make him ache for her. He couldn't wait to get his hands on those perfect tits again, to taste her skin and hear her breathy pleas for more.
With a smirk, Riki typed out a response, keeping his words light and playful to avoid arousing suspicion. "Mmm, I really do need you too, baby. But we have a few hours till we land. Why don't you play with yourself while thinking about me?" He attached another sultry selfie of himself lounging comfortably, his bulge barely concealed beneath his pants. "Get me hard for our reunion." Riki let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair in anticipation. His mind wandered to their last encounter, the way she'd writhed beneath him, crying out his name as he pounded into her tight little pussy. The memory alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside his pants. With a sigh, he decided to drift off with that thought.
.
.
.
As Riki approached Y/N's apartment building, a sense of relief washed over him. Being surrounded by his loving family had been wonderful, but there was no denying that he craved the intimacy and passion he shared with Y/N. He quickened his pace, his heart racing with anticipation as he climbed the stairs to her door. Taking a deep breath, Riki knocked softly, hoping she wouldn't keep him waiting. When the door swung open, he was greeted by Y/N's radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with adoration. Without a word, Riki pulled her into his arms, claiming her lips in a searing kiss filled with pent-up desire. He needed her, wanted her, and nothing else mattered in that moment. Riki shoved her back into the apartment with the wet kiss, pushing the door back close with a soft kick.
Riki's hands roamed over Y/N's curves as he backed her against the wall, breaking the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat. He nipped and sucked at her sensitive skin, leaving a path of love bites in his wake. "Missed you so fucking much," Riki growled against her ear, his voice husky with lust. He ground his hips against hers, the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against her belly. "Need to be inside you, Y/N. Now." Without waiting for a response, Riki scooped her up into his strong arms, carrying her towards the bedroom as he devoured her mouth once more. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in their desperate hunger for each other. Riki laid Y/N gently on the bed, his hands roaming her body as he kissed a fiery trail down her chest. He paused to worship her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her pert nipples until they pebbled under his attention. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped and whimpered with pleasure.
"Please, Riki," she panted, her hips bucking upwards in search of friction. "I'm so wet for you. Fill me up, baby." He grinned against her skin, his cock throbbing with need. He slid down her body, kissing and licking a path to her dripping core. "Oh, I plan to," he murmured, burying his face between her thighs and inhaling deeply. "Fuck, you smell incredible." He left one last kiss on her inner thigh before adjusting himself between her thighs.
His rigid erection brushing against her slick folds. He looked up at her, his dark eyes smoldering with raw desire. "Fuck, I’ve missed you, Y/N," he urged, his voice thick with lust. "Hmm, this wet pussy," Y/N's breath hitched, her gaze locked onto Riki's as she reached down to guide him to her entrance. "I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "Make me scream your name until my throat is raw." Riki groaned, his control slipping at her bold demand. With a swift thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, stretching her walls deliciously around his thickness. "Oh, fuck yes," his eyes rolled as he began thrusting into her tightness. Her mouth falls agape with desperate pleas escaping her short breath. “Uh huh, yeah, fuck me harder,” she nodded, encouraging him to go faster.
Riki gripped Y/N's hips tightly, pounding into her with reckless abandon as he chased his impending release. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking his cock with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin and their ragged breathing filled the room, creating a primal symphony of lust. "You're so damn tight," Riki grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove deeper. "Take all of me, baby. Every inch." Y/N's cries grew louder, her nails digging into his arms as she teetered on the edge. "Riki! Oh god, Riki!" she wailed, her body tensing beneath him. With one final, brutal stroke, Riki felt Y/N convulse around him, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.
Riki's climax hit him like a freight train, his vision blurring as he spilled himself deep within Y/N's spasming heat. He collapsed on top of her, his heavy breaths mingling with hers as they both rode out the aftershocks. He rolled off her, pulling her close as they lay entwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Riki pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling content and sated in a way that only Y/N could provide.
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
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Hi, I love the emt!marauders you post, I was wondering if u could write one that the reader has a chronic disease that involves getting sore when it's cold? Idk how to explain, I have lupus, and when it's cold, my joints tend to get sensitive and sore...so something with fluff/comfort, pls?
Thank you for requesting my love <3
cw: reader has unspecified chronic pain that flares up in the cold, I relied on the internet to write this so if anything seems wrong/inaccurate please let me know
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 887 words
Sirius is furious with himself for not checking the weather report. It’s so rare that you all have time off work on the same day, it’s possible you’d gotten ahead of yourselves in the excitement, but the sudden onset of winter wasn’t part of anyone’s plan. Even in Remus’ coat and tucked under James’ arm, you’ve gone quiet and withdrawn. Sirius can practically see you cringing with every step you take down the sidewalk. 
The other boys are similarly concerned.
“Let’s pop in here,” James suggests, maneuvering you all towards a bookstore. 
“Jamie,” you say, voice all sweetness even when it’s threaded through with exhaustion, “don’t go in somewhere you don’t want to just for me.” 
“Doll, I know how it might seem that way,” says Sirius, “but despite popular misconception, James actually can read.” 
You crack a smile, though it looks like it costs you. “Right, thanks, but we’re supposed to be out doing things we all like. If we went into a bookstore, you two would just end up sitting somewhere while Remus and I looked around.” 
“I like seeing you comfortable,” James says, somewhat poutily, “and I like buying you things. A bookstore is sounding rather enjoyable right now.” 
“Don’t you want to go inside?” Remus touches his knuckles gently underneath the butterfly-shaped rash on your cheeks that’s worsening due to the sun and cold. It’s not a terribly frigid day but the wind makes it worse, and however you try to act your boyfriends can see the toll it’s taking on you. “Even if it’s just for a while, it’ll be good to give yourself a break.” 
“Rem’s cold too,” Sirius says, noting the tension in the other boy’s posture now that he’s given up his coat, “aren’t you, lovely? C’mon, I know where we can go.” 
You don’t seem to have it in you to protest as Sirius leads you all down the block to the coffee shop around the corner. The heat is blasting inside. He finds you a table away from the door, where the cold breeze coming in can’t reach you and the whirring of the coffee grinders is less deafening. James insists on buying you each a warm beverage and a sweet (only you and Remus protest this; Sirius doesn’t know why you bother). 
“My poor girl,” Sirius murmurs, holding your frozen hands carefully in his. Remus’ coat pockets have done an insufficient job protecting them. Sirius devotes himself to rubbing warmth into each finger. 
“I think my drink would do as good a job of warming them up,” you say amusedly. 
“As good? I’m insulted.” 
“You know she really should be stretching her joints herself, love,” says Remus. 
“I do know,” Sirius replies primly, “thank you very much. It’s only that I’m very selfish.” 
Remus hums into his tea. “Selfish enough to let her drink go cold.” 
Sirius relents and lets you pick up your mug. You squeeze his hands thankfully before letting go. 
The windows at the front of the shop are foggy. It’s not cold enough yet for frost around the edges, but the mist gives the bustling street a blurred, wintry look, like the four of you are encapsulated in a warm snow globe scene, unmoving and separate from the outside world. Sirius finds it rather peaceful. 
“Did anyone bring ibuprofen?” James asks. 
You cringe sheepishly. “No, sorry. I forgot it at home.” 
“Don’t be sorry, lovie.” James palms the back of your neck, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Any of us could’ve thought of it. We’ll stop somewhere and grab a bottle.” 
“It never hurts to have extra,” Remus agrees before you can argue. 
“Okay,” you say, voice gone soft as it often does when you feel your boyfriends are taking too much notice of you. Sirius doesn’t understand your aversion to this in the slightest. “Thanks.” 
“It’s ungodly freezing out,” Sirius complains. “I move that we make a coffee shop stop every two blocks.” 
James’ face lights. “It could be like appetizer hopping—”
“But with pastries,” Sirius finishes. 
You don’t immediately argue, a promising sign. Remus appears to be warming to the idea as well. “We’d have to pace ourselves a bit more,” he points out, looking at your table cramped with plates and saucers. “Maybe at each place we pick one thing to share.” 
Sirius scoffs. “Suit yourself. I’m not splitting a muffin into four pieces and eating only one.” 
James looks as though he agrees, but he only says cheerily, “We’ll figure it out as we go. Does that sound good?” 
He poses the question to everyone, but they all know he’s really only asking you. Remus and Sirius give their assent quickly and you shrink a bit in your seat, embarrassed. 
“If it really doesn’t sound too inconvenient for you guys.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug. Sirius thinks with satisfaction that the motion looks easier than it might have when you first came in from the cold. “Then yeah, I’m alright with it.” 
“Oh, yes,” Sirius teases, “an afternoon spent enjoying coffee and pastries with the three most fetching people on the continent. I should really rethink this, it may be too inconvenient.” 
“Prick.” James elbows him and leans over to wrap an arm around you protectively, but your smile blooms, and that’s all Sirius wanted in the end.
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neonross · 1 month ago
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I absolutely love your lil D-16 au! It's very sweet, and fun to see Starscream as a dad to baby Megs lol
A thing I had wondered for the au was where might the other little minors be? Have they been wandering about? Was it only D who made it to the surface? Are they being raised by Alpha Trion (or even Sentinel)? I have so many questions and it would definitely be fun to hear more details for the au
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aw! thanks! glad u guys seem to like the AU, the other miners gonna keep a secret for now, cuz mainly focusing on stardad n lil dee w/ the rest of the highguard cuz thats how this au started
the rest of the sparklings i will say are all on Iocon and none have met each other-
that happens like YEARS LATER whhen they're older but heres a doodle of em!
I will be doing a quick ramble on the general info of the AU so- stay in tune for that ig ahah
gonna call this au stardad n lil dee AU btw
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kentopedia · 11 months ago
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I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento
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omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3
contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k
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“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”
your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.
he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”
“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”
kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.
you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”
nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”
though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”
“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”
the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.
“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”
kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?
“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.
you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”
the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”
despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.
“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.
“of course, kento.”
he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.
“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”
you blinked. “what do you mean?”
“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”
all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”
“don’t you?”
you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”
“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”
“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.
you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."
“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”
that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”
kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”
“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”
he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“you’re so stupid.”
kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”
and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.
“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”
kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”
he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.
you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”
kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”
“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.
but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”
whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.
“hey kento?”
“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”
“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”
kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”
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earlysunshines · 4 months ago
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downstairs neighbor
danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff
synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.
warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread
a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn
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danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.
she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.
hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.
she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.
when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.
“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.
before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.
a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 
“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?
danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”
the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.
you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.
“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”
the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.
you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—
you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.
“who are you?”
“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 
“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”
“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”
“you must be new.”
“sorry?”
“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”
you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.
danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.
the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.
“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”
“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”
“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”
“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”
“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”
“last night i went down and asked her to–”
“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 
“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 
“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”
“what?”
“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”
“you’re just going to let this slide?”
“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”
danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.
you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 
as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.
fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.
when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.
“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.
you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.
“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”
“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.
finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 
and that’s when you see her.
danielle. she’s sitting just two seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.
of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.
you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.
as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.
you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.
“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.
“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.
“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.
“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”
“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.
the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.
as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”
“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.
“who?”
“the girl from friday.”
yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”
“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”
“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”
“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”
yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”
“shut up.”
“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”
“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”
but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.
“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”
you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.
“i guess.”
the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.
you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 
these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.
now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”
“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 
“and if she does?”
“i’ll shut her out again.”
“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”
“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 
“you’re good at that.”
“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”
your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 
“not again, i don’t trust myself.”
she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”
“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”
“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.
“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”
“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”
“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.
yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”
“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.” 
lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 
you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.
you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.
“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.
“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”
“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 
she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.
“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.
“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.
you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—
“um, thanks,�� you mutter.
“it’s no problem.”
“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 
she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”
if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.
“right, okay,” you manage to say.
“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 
“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”
“night then.”
“night?”
she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 
haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.
“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.
“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”
“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”
“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 
a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.
“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”
“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.
minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”
“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”
danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”
“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”
danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.
“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”
“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.
“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”
“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”
“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”
“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”
“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.
“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.
“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”
hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.
danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.
hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.
there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.
out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.
“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”
“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”
“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”
“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.
“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.
“what?”
she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”
“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”
danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.
“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.
you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.
when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 
you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.
for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.
sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.
what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.
after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 
"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."
"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."
"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”
“yeah…”
“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”
“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”
“you’re not into her, are you?”
the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”
“nothing more, right?”
“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”
jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”
you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.
“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”
you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”
jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.
even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.
the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.
you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 
you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 
you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.
the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 
danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 
“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 
danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”
“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”
but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.
minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 
once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.
she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 
danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 
determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.
there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.
danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 
“y/n?”
“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."
“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”
you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 
the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 
you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 
danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”
“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 
she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.
without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”
“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.
“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”
you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.
your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.
but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”
you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.
danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.
she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.
when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”
you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.
she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 
“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.
you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.
"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."
“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”
she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”
you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 
your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.
there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 
with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.
you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 
the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.
you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.
— 
danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.
"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.
you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."
“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”
“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.
“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”
“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”
“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”
“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.
“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”
you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.
";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”
you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”
“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”
her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."
“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.
“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”
“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”
you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.
you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”
danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”
you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"
“yes?”
“are you free later?”
“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”
“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”
she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”
“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”
danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”
“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”
she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.
“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”
she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”
“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.
you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.
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